“Well, certainly on one side of the aisle,” George replied.
“Hmmph. I’m pretty sure that is both sides of the aisle, George.” the President responded, “Maybe there are fewer idiots on our side, but that just makes the whole thing that much sadder. These guys are smart enough, and they are using it for personal political ambition.”
“Make you wonder how you got in?” George said as he pulled up his Powerpoint presentation to review with the President. There wasn’t much on it, just a few code phrases which reminded George what he wanted to speak about and in what order. He could have used notecards, but that just made him seem antiquated. So, one almost useless laptop later and he seemed up to speed on technology.
Hurrah for him!
“No, I got in because those who knew better figured they could manipulate me.” He shrugged, “I wasn’t too stupid to recognize that. I was just smart enough to make sure my eagerness hid any rejections to their requests until I got the job. Then, they found out they could kiss my ass,” the President supplied.
“Well, are you ready for the latest update?” George asked him.
“Sure, I popped two antacids before I came in here. I’m trying a new brand out,” he joked.
George looked up at him, “Seriously?”
“Well, yes,” the President acknowledged, “you give me a stomach ache each time you leave. I might as well take the medicine early.”
George turned back to his laptop, “Ok, Presidential Stomach Ache 022 is ready to go.”
“Amusing,” the President replied.
“Well, if you have ever heard the axiom two problems are a problem, but three sometimes cancel out?” George asked him.
“No, I have heard something similar,” he agreed.
“Maybe I have the quote wrong, but the idea is sound. Perhaps when you have at least three problems, they can be used to fix each other.” George replied as his first slide ‘China’ came up. “So, we have the issue with a group of companies based in China using mercenaries to attack the TQB headquarters here in America using a small dirty bomb. The idea was probably to detonate inside the base and no one, except TQB of course, would presumably be harmed. Unfortunately for them, someone on the TQB side either caused it to detonate in the valley, or took it to the valley to detonate.”
“Did they get away?” The President asked.
“Couldn’t tell you. But the previous significant other of their CEO is no longer seen with her. We think he bought it in the blast.”
“Who was he?”
“Again, hard to tell. We know his name is ‘Michael’ and that he lived in South America. However, we are getting a lot of run-around, and our computers seem to have a lot of junk data on him. So, he might remain anonymous.” George said, “So, it’s possible one of the caskets we track leaving their ceremony was him and a few others who died in the altercation.”
“Why are they hiding the hits?” the President asked.
“Probably because they are a secretive bunch. They aren’t using the opportunity to get a sympathy play with the public, so my best guess is it doesn’t fit in with their strategy, or it isn’t in the company’s DNA to do so. Personally, I’m not happy not knowing.”
“That’s because your role is to know,” the President replied.
“True, but when I unwrap TQB, all I get are more questions, not more answers.”
“I’m on vacation, George.”
“I was invited!” George replied smiling, “Besides, we aren’t even to the second slide. So, on the first slide, we have a group of Chinese conglomerates going after the technology in cahoots with American conglomerates. We have tracked down a couple of contacts, and they have fuzzy lines over to Europe.”
“So, we have multi-national companies who employ millions and millions of people all over the world implementing military operations in their zeal to steal TQBs technology. TQB bit back, and slapped the conglomerates and has been fighting them in the stock market, and taking them out. Further, we have some very suspicious deaths which you believe are probably TQBs response to a military action. Now, I need to figure out how to respond to the Chinese allowing some of their industrial cronies to use weapons they shouldn’t. Not only how to respond, but what assets we need to use, correct?”
“Well, ordinarily yes.” George allowed, “I’ve spoken with the Chief of JCOS, and he has polled everyone. Some of them have dug up people who know people who either know TQB people or who have heard stories of some of those people. It’s scary stuff, and I don’t mind scary movies.” George said.
“Are you going to lay it on the line this time, or are you going to hint at the answer, George?” the President asked him.
“Sir, one of TQB's men is Frank Kurns. I have confirmed an eyewitness to seeing him just seven years ago.” George hit the button on his laptop to bring up the next slide. “Here is a picture outside an ATM at that time and my contact confirmed this is Frank Kurns.” The man pictured was older, healthy perhaps, but certainly old. “This is a picture of Frank Kurns today.” The next slide was a younger thirty-something man.
The President leaned close and asked for the two pictures to be brought up side-by-side. George just hit the next slide in the deck that showed them both. “NSA says seventy-eight percent likely the same man. We went back into our archives in the military. Check this out.” George hit the next slide, and now three pictures were side by side. This time, the middle was a nice color shot, the far right a black and white.
“Son-of-a-bitch.” The President said, “How the hell?” He looked up to George. “The same man?”
“Yes, sir.” George agreed, “Not only the same man but I did a little more digging. I’m pretty sure he has worked in a super secret group for the government since World War II. He’s over a hundred years old I believe. There is some question of whether he lied or not to get into the service early, but that is him. I don’t think we need to quibble a few years plus or minus when we are talking ten decades.”
“What did we have him doing?” the President asked.
“Well, that’s where it gets interesting,” George said and hit the button to go to the next slide.
CHAPTER NINE
Outside Paris, France
“I’ve always wanted to enjoy Paris,” Marcus mentioned as he and Gabrielle walked along a quiet road ten miles outside of Paris, “but I hadn’t expected to have to walk the last ten miles,” he said. “Some date I am.”
Gabrielle laughed and slid an arm under Marcus’s, “Hey, we are here to have a good time. I should remember that the French always have at least two strikes going on at any one time. I think there is a national law that says one of those who are striking must be the taxi drivers.”
Marcus was surprised that Gabrielle allowed the intimacy of slipping an arm inside his. He didn’t pretend to believe this would go anywhere, but he sure as hell would enjoy it. His time with Bobcat and William, and TOM as well, had made him a much more easy-going fellow. It had made his whole decade when Bethany Anne had supported the rumors in the media that he was the Marcus that had told NASA to kiss his ass. She had purposefully pulled Marcus into a meeting he wasn’t expecting, so he was caught with a ton of photographs standing next to the World’s Most Famous CEO.
He even had an old ex-wife try to call him. Just in case boredom set in, her message got saved on his voicemail group for later replay..
“Gabrielle, do you think Bethany Anne would allow us a little fun?” Marcus asked, thinking aloud.
“Like what?” Gabrielle asked.
“Like landing a pod where we can be seen?” Marcus asked, a little concerned he was pushing the envelope.
“Hell if I know, let’s ask her,” Gabrielle said, “If you get a scratch on you, I’m going to get my ass kicked the next time we spar, so I’m not going to cheat on this one.” She pulled up her purse and retrieved her phone. While it looked ordinary, the insides were not. It took half a second for the security to confirm it was Gabrielle,
and she hit the shortcode to speak to ADAM, “Hey ADAM, I need to know if I can interrupt BA. Mmmhmmm. Ok, I’ll wait.” She leaned over to whisper to Marcus, “She’s kicking Barnabas's ass at the moment, so we … Oh! Hi BA, Marcus the man and I are stuck outside of Paris walking the streets. The taxis are on strike, again. What? Hell, ever since they had horses I imagine. If there isn’t a strike going on somewhere is this country, we’ve switched dimensions. Either way, Marcus would like to drop a Pod with us in it right into town… Mmmhmm, oh, I guess that was rude. Hold on.” Gabrielle handed the phone to Marcus, “Sorry, she wants to talk with you.”
Marcus accepted the phone from Gabrielle, “Hello? Yes, hello, Bethany Anne. Right, bad research on my part. True, not exactly a way to impress a lady, but until this evening, I’ve only had Bobcat and William around for guidance and might I point out they are dreadful instructors on how to treat ladies.” Marcus pulled the phone away from his ear for a second and whispered to Gabrielle, “She laughing!” He missed Gabrielle's smirk when he put the phone back up to his ear, “Yes, well, I suppose that is true. Ok, I’ll ask.”
He turned to Gabrielle, “Is Paris a requirement, or would you consider visiting another city?”
“Did you have one in mind?” she asked him.
“Actually, I was thinking Los Angeles. I know a few places there to take a proper lady.”
“A proper lady, huh?” She looked at him, “Why not? I haven’t been to Los Angeles anytime recently.”
“Well then, my knowledgeable date, why don’t we whisk off to LA and leave these strike-happy people to their own devices?”
“I’m a little overdressed for whatever time it is there, aren’t I?” Gabrielle asked, looking at her evening dress.
“My lady, you are going to Shangri-la, where traditional left the city eighty years ago and never came back,” Marcus quipped.
“Well, then. Yes, I think we shall,” Gabrielle agreed.
Three minutes later, the phone was back in Gabrielle’s purse, and the two of them were on a twenty-two minute Pod trip to Los Angeles, California for a lunch date.
London, England
Beatrice Silvers walked up to George, the doorman of her building and nodded to him. Her building was a quaint four-story where she rented two of the four penthouse apartments. She had the north side with windows on the east and west. It allowed her to switch bedrooms since they were mirrored layouts, initially. She had a ten-year lease and expected to be able to buy out the owner by the time her ten years were up.
Or, she would find something on him and ruin him. Either way, she wouldn’t be moving.
She walked to the inside lift and pressed the button and stepped into the marble-lined elevator and turned around to go up the four flights. While Beatrice would often take the stairs for health reasons, she had plenty of walking in the last few days as she had gone from one member to another to get them back on track.
That stupid bitch Anna Elisabeth Hauser had spooked half her damned group. As soon as these children in adult clothes were finally settled down, she would see what she could do to that useless excuse for a woman in power who had run at the first chance she had away from this whole effort.
Beatrice stepped out after the ding and the doors opened. She walked down the green carpeted floor and turned to her left. There were two doors side by side as the entry to her one apartment. She kept the right one permanently locked and management had added a heavy-duty steel lock to that side.
A computer controlled lock secured the other door. It notified her anytime someone entered her home.
She stepped into her apartments, turned, and reset the door. Setting her purse on the table just inside the doorway, she grabbed her scarf to hang it on the hook next to the door. She had walked fifteen feet towards the kitchen when she stopped and slowly turned in place to witness a female sitting in a chair over in the corner, staring at her.
“Excuse me,” Beatrice said, “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” Her brain put the lady and the CEO of TBQ Enterprises together. “Oh my,” Beatrice said, “What are you doing here?”
“Living,” Bethany Anne answered.
Beatrice took a step back and bumped into another person. She moved forward quickly, startled to find a man in a monk's robes behind her. “Who are you?” she asked, her heart pumping.
“My name is Barnabas,” he replied.
Beatrice turned back to Bethany Anne, who sat quietly in her chair, just watching her. “What is it you want?” she asked.
“Well, what I want I can’t have, Beatrice Silvers,” Bethany Anne answered.
“What do you want from me?” Beatrice asked, stepping once more toward the door.
“Well, I would ask ‘why?’ But having spoken with Barnabas a second ago after he delved into your mind, he informs me it was all business. People are not people. They are chess pieces. Lives are not lives, they are numbers to you, Beatrice Silvers,” Bethany Anne spoke, her voice was cold, angry.
Beatrice took another step while the two watched her neither one moving from their locations. “What are you talking about? You aren’t making any sense!”
“Beatrice, you might as well go over to your door and try it. It won’t open.” Bethany Anne smiled a wicked smile. “I’ll wait right here while you figure that out.”
Beatrice's heart raced even faster as she hurried to the door and placed her code and her hand on the lock, and finally tried to use the override to get out. Nothing worked. She banged on the door, pleading for someone to hear the noise.
“Oh, that won’t work either,” Barnabas said as he wandered around her living room, picking up a piece from her shelves to look at it and then set it back down. “I have made sure no one is on this level, and those on the level below are sleeping, for a while, and won’t remember anything for the next few hours,” he finished, picking up a unicorn made of glass. “This is pretty,” he commented before dropping it to the floor. When it shattered on the wood floor, Beatrice jumped and turned around. She was holding the doorknob behind her, still trying to turn it.
“You see, Beatrice,” Bethany Anne said as she stood up, “Anna Elisabeth Hauser tried to warn you, but you failed to heed the warning." She turned to Barnabas. "I’ll have to visit this woman to see if she warrants punishment, or an award Barnabas.” The man nodded his understanding. Bethany Anne turned back to Beatrice, “You were part of a group that put into place efforts that killed my people as well as my love. Your group is going to be pulled apart but, not so sadly, you won’t be around to see it.”
“Why?” Beatrice panted, her eyes darting between Bethany Anne and Barnabas, “What is he going to do to me?”
Bethany Anne turned back to Barnabas. “See? This is why big brooding men are a pain in the ass, the assumption of who to fear is entirely lost,” she commented as she stepped closer to Beatrice. Bethany Anne turned to look Beatrice in the eye when she was within reach. “It isn’t what Barnabas is going to do, Beatrice. You are mine, and while ripping your head off appeals to me, it is so damned messy. Plus, there are issues with people finding blood and the whole clean-up thing. No, I’m going to send you on a trip.”
“Where?” Beatrice asked, still stealing a glance at Barnabas who was watching impassively.
“Where I send a lot of useless excuses for human beings,” Bethany Anne said, allowing her eyes to turn red finally capturing Beatrice's attention entirely, “to Hell with a pitstop in between.” She stabbed out with her arm and grabbed the woman. Beatrice barely had time to start a scream before Bethany Anne had pulled her away from the door and pushed her into the Etheric.
Beatrice Silvers disappeared.
“You know,” Bethany Anne eyed the glass pieces and said, “We are going to have to clean up that damned unicorn now for when someone comes looking.”
“Why?” Barnabas asked, “I wanted to capture her attention. Now, when someone comes to the house, it will draw them into the question of what happened to Beatrice Silvers
with the broken unicorn?”
Bethany Anne stepped towards Barnabas, “You’re playing with minds already, Barnabas?” she asked.
“I find a particular joy in mental punishment,” he admitted, “I’m curious, how long will she last in the Etheric?
“Well, air isn’t the problem, but water will be and so will the emptiness. I doubt more than a few days.”
“Could she run into anyone there?” he asked looking down at the few broken pieces of the unicorn, “Do you want me to pick this up?”
Bethany Anne came up to him. “You know what? Don’t, you are making the call on this. I don’t know why she couldn’t find someone in there, and then they have each other to die alongside. Now, let’s go.”
Release The Dogs of War (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 10) Page 10