Natural Born : Book Three: Annihilation Series: A Political Technothriller Series

by John Hindmarsh

  “Samuel, you have reversed these two people. Look, I’ve known George for years, and I’ve seen a lot of evidence. The FBI is good at gathering evidence and they have a lot of it. George is as guilty as fuck.”

  The president looked pained. He did not like foul language. “I don’t believe you. And I’m going to do something about it. Watch my news conference tomorrow.”

  The president looked at his notes and placed them to one side. He raised his head so that the news cameras could catch the right shots. He was Honest Abe, the man the country could depend on, and he looked everyone in the eye.

  “Good morning. I asked you all—well, probably not all of you; I haven’t seen this room so full of media people—to come here this morning for a briefing. I have several concerns and I’m going to share them with you.

  “For one, I have been informed Congress is considering a bill titled, I think, Bots Are Persons Bill. I do not agree that we should be even considering granting some mechanical assemblages the unwarranted status of person. I’m a person. Most of you—I can see a couple of exceptions—are persons.” He ignored the wave of laughter. “We think. We bleed. We live. We die. I’m advising Congress, here and now, that if they bring this Bots Are Persons Bill to me, I will veto it. Do not think it will be otherwise.”

  “But sir, at least thirty states have enacted similar legislation and another fifteen are planning to do so.”

  The president didn’t recognize the voice and was so intent on his focus on the cameras he didn’t see who spoke. He replied, “We can always make it financially costly for states who do that. It’s a stupid idea and the sooner they recognize that, the better. This is all a project of the Euler Organization. I’m going to ban them from doing business with the federal government.”

  “Sir, Euler claim the export market is far more remunerative than the US market.”

  “Ah, Rigby, it’s you with these nonsense comments. You’re banned for a month. I don’t believe Euler is telling the truth.”

  He paused, checked his notes, and returned the page to the desk beside him. “While I’m discussing Euler, I’d like to mention the next concern of mine. My very good friend—George Flocke—is missing. George has established a marvelous group via the American Eagles Foundation. Members of the Eagles represent the finest of America. And by the way, those members include me, the President of the United States. There are lots of false reports circulating that he, George Flocke, somehow has been attacking this Euler guy—Toby McIntosh. That’s absolutely false. If anything, it’s the other way—McIntosh has been attacking my friend George. I wouldn’t be surprised if McIntosh has somehow caused his uncle to disappear in order to inherit the Euler business, and has done the same to George, to stop him defeating this stupid legislation.”

  The press uproar was deafening. The president held up his hand. “No, I’m not taking questions. Enjoy the remainder of your day.”

  He stood and left the press room.

  Darwin said, “Toby, I’ve recorded a briefing by the president. You have to watch it, now!”

  “What happened to waking at a reasonable hour?”

  “It’s seven a.m. I’m serious. He’s really pushing back on our legislation and attacking you.”

  Toby woke Billie. “There’s a program we have to watch. Darwin says the president is already rejecting the new bill and it hasn’t even got through Congress.”

  After he and Billie watched the president’s news conference that Darwin had recorded, Toby said, “Wow. Declaration of war or not?”

  Billie’s face was pale. She nodded her head.

  She said, “The media will be full of it, probably for the rest of the day.”

  “More like the rest of the week, and today’s only Monday.”

  Darwin commented, “Sounds like a major attack to me. I’m working with Rick to produce a schedule of releases of the material I have on Flocke. We have incontrovertible evidence that he’s behind attempts to assassinate you.”

  “Do we know where he is?”

  “Flocke arranged for a charter jet to take him to Europe. The jet landed at Halifax where he disembarked. It was a very quick stop and the charter flight continued to Paris. Someone picked him up in an SUV, an old one, and we haven’t been able to track it or him. We suspect he’s chartered a second jet, but we can’t prove it.” Darwin sounded annoyed at his lack of data.

  “Let me know as soon as you find any trace of him. He’ll be into all kinds of nonsense, now that the president has publicized his disappearance.”

  “Yes, I will. Do you want to review the material we’re preparing to release?”

  “Let me see the first couple of files. After that, breakfast. Then you can get up to full speed and release as much evidence into the public domain as possible.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  oOo

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rick pushed aside his notes. He’d been working with Darwin, Bronwyn, and Junior, reviewing video records generated by bots in Washington D. C., California, and Nevada. He said, “Flocke—the man’s a megalomaniac, totally obsessive. He’s a psychopath—he has people killed at whim. I hadn’t realized just how bad—”

  “We have known. Toby, too, but he hasn’t seen all the evidence that we’ve gathered,” Bronwyn said.

  “Let’s do this. I’d like a thirty-minute documentary on the brownshirts, covering their crimes. Focus on their standover activities. They have been involved in civil disorder activities, as well. Include cuts of Flocke from his team meetings, especially where he’s threatening Toby.”

  “Easy,” Darwin confirmed. He didn’t mention he was holding back evidence of one or two of Flocke’s more extreme attacks such as the sabotage of the Tesla aircraft. He wanted to keep something in reserve.

  “For each attack on Euler or Toby, prepare either a fifteen- or thirty-minute review of Flocke planning and instructing his people, with clips of the subsequent criminal activity. We’ve got the attempts to kidnap Toby and Billie in Los Angeles, the ambush of the convoy returning to Bel Air after the funeral for Billie’s adopted father, the attack on Pepper Mountain with the Russians, the subsequent Russian attempt to rescue their men, the assassination of his three senior brownshirt members—oh, and the fighter jet attack on Pepper Mountain. All of those were carried out at the direct instruction of Flocke. Anything else you can find, let me have details and we might be able to use it.”

  “Toby wants to review the first couple of files, he told me.”

  “That’s good. As soon as you have the first file ready, send me and Toby a copy. You all know what we need. Remember—everything must be verifiable.”

  “We have the videos,” Bronwyn said. “We’ve previously handed copies of some of the material to the FBI and to Colonel Coleman.”

  “This will be fun,” Junior said. “Darwin and I will share the narrations.”

  “Okay. Everyone, let’s go.”

  After Rick reviewed the first file and checked with Toby that he approved the contents, he released it for broadcast on Travers TV. He contacted the main news media outlets and each one jumped at the opportunity to use the files in their news sessions. Each time Rick cautioned, “We’ll provide shorts from thirty seconds to two minutes, and a full-length documentary style presentation. We will deliver files to you on the following conditions. You do not modify or edit the material. You do not change the narrator. You do not modify or edit the accompanying text. You can say whatever you want, of course, when you run the material, but you cannot alter it. If you can’t agree, I’m sorry, but you can’t have the files.”

  Only one media outlet pushed back. Rick refused to modify his conditions. The channel got back to him and agreed the conditions after the first files were run on competing channels.

  He was about to relax; he hadn’t had lunch, and it was already mid-afternoon. His PA knocked on his door. She entered and walked over to his desk; on the way she tidied files, removed equipment from chairs, and organi
zed his pending work. After she placed a packet of sandwiches on the side of his desk, she said, “I’ll make you a coffee. You need to have a break. By the way, there’s a lady here to see you. A Miss Khela. Shall I show her in?”

  Rick was surprised. Karla had decided to return to San Francisco and he had arranged for her belongings to be shipped to her. Now she was back. He said, “Yes, please.”

  A minute later, Karla walked into his office. “My, this is a major improvement on our first location. You’ve gone up in the world.” She sat down in one of the now cleared office chairs.

  “Karla. What are you here for?” She always stirred his blood and he repressed that reaction.

  “That’s not a nice way to greet a friend.” She pouted.

  “You left. I hope I returned everything that was yours?”

  “Of course. Yes, I left. Family issues. I told you.”

  “Your family issues no longer exist?” He typed a short message on his computer; it read, “Darwin, is Karla’s brother still in the brownshirts?”

  Darwin typed back, “I’m pleased you remembered. Yes. Far more entrenched. Be cautious.”

  Rick replied, “Always.”

  He looked at Karla. She seemed annoyed by his distraction. He explained, “We’re working on major material releases. The first one has been released worldwide on Travers. US media is buying in.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  “You watched the president’s news conference this morning?”

  “Yes. It didn’t look good for Toby.”

  “Well, we’re fighting back. Flocke has been up to his neck in actions against Euler and Toby. We’re releasing new evidence.” He did not think he was saying anything confidential; the material was already being broadcast.

  “You are? Can I help?”

  At last, Rick thought. Someone has pushed her to ask. Whoever it was, they had quick reactions and possibly more knowledge about him and Travers TV than he thought safe. “I thought you had your job back in San Francisco?”

  “It wasn’t as exciting as working here with you.”

  “I’m not so certain it’s exciting here. It’s got larger and we have more coverage, but it’s the same old same old.”

  “Euler, with Travers TV, is regarded as a major upcoming media organization and you’re recognized as the man behind it all. That’s got to be exciting.”

  The desk phone interrupted his reply. The caller was one of his production people. He pressed the accept button; the phone was on loudspeaker. “Yes, Terri?”

  Terri said, “There’s a major brownshirt riot building up steam in Orange County. Do you want to oversee our response?”

  Rick thought for a moment and said, “No. Work with Junior. He can anchor it.”

  “Done. Junior said that would be your response. We’re on it.”

  Rick ended the call.

  “Delegation, too?”

  “With our growth, it’s the only way to survive. Now, why do you want to work here? Really?”

  “I missed the excitement of starting up a media channel. And as I said, my family issues are resolved.”

  “Your brother is still a brownshirt?”

  Karla frowned and bit her lip. He had once thought that was sexy. He laughed to himself. Past tense—he no longer considered it was more than a pose.

  She said, “No, he’s not really that involved any more. Mom’s feeling better and he’s spending more time with her.”

  “That’s good.” Another desk phone buzzed. He looked at the caller ID; it was Darwin. He said, “It’s a busy day. I haven’t had lunch yet. I have more material to review and release. Maybe—”

  “We could meet after you’ve finished?”

  “Maybe.” He shook his head. “No, maybe not. Today will be a long one. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow, around midday?”

  Karla appeared disappointed. She apparently expected a far friendlier reaction. “Well—”

  “Before I forget to mention it—all new recruits must be vetted by our security team and have to be interviewed by the chief executive. I’m responsible for production and now have a boss.”

  Karla looked even more disappointed. “Oh. I hadn’t realized that. Very well, I’ll visit tomorrow and share lunch with you.”

  “Good. I have work to do.” He escorted Karla to the door. “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Darwin said, “That’s the right response. Junior thinks Karla was briefed this morning by a senior brownshirt member.”

  “Well, the chemistry has gone.”

  “Ah. Congratulations.”

  Rick ignored the comment. He opened the third file prepared by the SIs. This was definitely going to be a long day.

  oOo

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Darwin had four Political Action Committees (PACs) set up, funded, and operating. Three were established as super PACs that had no limitation on the amounts that he could fund them with, while the fourth was a nonconnected PAC. That last one was able to receive donations of up to $5,000 per calendar year from individuals, and it was proving very popular with bots. Each PAC had been established according to the rules of the Federal Election Commission and he was being very careful to ensure they complied with the law.

  He normally held a monthly meeting with the manager of each PAC; perhaps not surprisingly, the managers were bots. The treasury function of each PAC, however, was performed by a firm of CPAs, with whom he met separately. The PACs had rules to follow, and he was adamant the rules would be followed.

  He’d called for a meeting of the four bot managers so he could brief them on the urgency with which he wanted them to operate. He’d taken over the property that Toby had acquired and which Dr. Narumi Horikoshi and her team had used for their body shop project. Now the PAC managers occupied one of the apartments, and thus, they did not have far to walk to join the meeting.

  The president’s press briefing had set off alarm bells. Darwin wanted the PACs to produce and run television commercials, carry out social network activities, and do everything they could to ensure both public and political support for what everyone was calling the Bots Are Persons Bill. It was time, he’d decided, for the nonconnected PAC to commence offering funds to support future campaigns of members of Congress. The super PACs would be responsible for supportive television advertising and all other media activities.

  The meeting, given that it was between himself and four bots, was short; they could communicate at the speed of light and had their own internal language, a mix of English and NATE computer code.

  Darwin established the urgency of his plans. He defined general requirements for advertising and social media activities. For the nonconnected PAC, he listed the members of Congress they should approach to offer funding.

  Fifteen minutes later they were all in agreement and Darwin ended the meeting. Advertising would start to hit the airwaves within forty-eight hours. Social media activity would commence in less than five hours; the PACs had fifty social media-savvy bots that would begin messaging and posting on every site that had an influence on politics and social awareness. America was about to be introduced to a series of campaigns far more aggressive and comprehensive than any prior campaign, bot-driven or human.

  Darwin turned back to the campaign against George Flocke. He had some hitherto unpublished files he wanted to use. One set clearly showed Flocke arranging the Tesla aircraft sabotage, when Toby’s new TE-Air electric jet exploded as it was about to land in Bermuda; the aircraft had been flying under AI control and no humans were aboard. The AI, sadly, had been lost. The other set of files showed Flocke planning and carrying out the assassination of three members of the American Eagles organization; he wanted to hand the latter to the FBI before it was released to the news media.

  He decided to deal with the assassination episode first, and he contacted the senior FBI agent responsible for Toby’s protection, Raymond Reynolds.

  “Yes, Darwin?”

  “
I have some video files you might like to utilize.”

  The FBI agent was cautious. “Yes?”

  “Yes. There was an explosion in New York a little while back. It killed three senior members of the American Eagles; Christian Edwards, Bishop Lee Simpson, and Gabriel Laduke. I understand the FBI has not discovered who made and planted the bomb, nor have they identified the instigator of the crime.”

  “Correct.”

  “I have videos. One shows—I’ll call him Party A—contacting a bomb maker, Party B, and instructing him to produce and set a bomb in place in a hotel meeting room. The second video shows B manufacturing the bomb and later, setting it in place. The last and final file shows A listening to the meeting of the three men and dialing a cell phone to trigger the explosion. I have pieces of the cell phone used, with, I believe, fingerprints of A. Oh, and I have a video file of A dumping the cell phone components. Are you interested?”

  “I suspect I can guess the identity of Party A. It’s a tainted offering. It will either make me or break me, if I present your records. I assume you’ll be releasing the details to the public?”

  “Certainly. I won’t pressure you, though. I understand your reservations.”

  Reynolds breathed deeply. “Send them to me. When will you go public?”

  “Tomorrow. Do your best.”

  “Indeed. I may end up applying for a position in the Euler Organization, if I get thrown to the wolves.”

  Darwin laughed. “I don’t think it will get that bad. However, let me know if it does.”

  “I will. I’ll brief you on reactions.”

  “Thanks. Good luck.” Darwin ended the call. Toby, he thought, might not approve his tactics, but he thought it was one way to deal with the missing brownshirt leader. He would leak details of the Tesla sabotage later. He wanted to apply constant pressure on Flocke and his friends.

  Darwin was about to leave his Euler office when Junior contacted him.