The Trust Of The People (Conspiracy Trilogy Book 2)

by Christopher Read

  Flores remained unconvinced that Anderson was right, but there seemed little harm in doing as he suggested – after all, the FBI was actively pursuing other similarly implausible leads.

  “We’ll add in Delaware,” Flores said, mind made up. “New Jersey if we have to.” He started to rap out orders, keen to make a start; only this time, just to be sure, he’d bypass the main FBI network.

  Anderson had started with several thousand possible sites; now they were likely to be heading into the tens of thousands.

  * * *

  Recent tradition dictated that the setting for a prime-time address be decided by the nature of the speech – Oval Office for sombre, East Room for everything else. Cavanagh sat at the Resolute desk, framed on either side by the U.S. and President’s flags, choosing not the have the distraction of family photographs on the table behind him.

  “Good evening. Yesterday, as you will know, an attack against the USS Milius claimed the lives of thirty-two of our sailors. Many others have been injured. All our prayers are with the families who have lost their loved ones or are still awaiting news. These brave men and women were simply doing their duty, the USS Milius part of a naval detachment sent to the South China Sea. The situation there has seen tensions increase dramatically over the past nine days with China, the Philippines and Vietnam all suffering loss, armed conflict threatening to propel the region into a catastrophic war no-one can win.

  “Our naval forces were present in the South China Sea purely in a defensive role and were attacked without warning, provocation or just cause. The torpedo attack was carried out by a submarine which was subsequently sunk with all hands; the loss of life a direct consequence of the attack on the USS Milius. In total, six torpedoes were launched against our vessels, with five destroyed in a well-executed defensive operation; unfortunately, one managed to evade our counter-measures. This was thus not some accident or mistake but a deliberate attempt to murder innocent sailors and sink an American ship. It is almost certain that this was the same submarine that attacked the Vietnamese frigate HQ-17 on Friday.”

  Cavanagh paused: the facts were relatively easy to detail; who should be blamed and the nature of the U.S. response, far harder to explain.

  “This was a despicable and cowardly act. If the intention was to provoke us into a hurried and misguided retaliation against one particular nation, that will fail utterly. Physical evidence, combined with that gathered by the U.S. Intelligence Community has so far failed to provide conclusive proof as to the perpetrator. That will change once we have examined the remains of the submarine; unfortunately, that is not a quick or simple task. However, I can assure you that once those responsible have been identified, the United States will enact a just and proportionate retribution for the many lives lost.

  “The U.S forces presently in the South China Sea will remain on station, with any attempt to deny or delay their rightful passage met with deadly force, and I urge all nations in the South China Sea to step back from further confrontation. America is proud to stand together with her allies in the defence of freedom and all that is good in our world, the sacrifice of our men and women forever remembered in our thoughts and prayers.

  “Thank you. Good night and God bless America.”

  * * *

  While most TV stations immediately returned to their prime-time schedule, the news channels gathered first impressions as to how the President had done, it seen by some as being crucial to the survival of his Administration. Initial feedback was generally positive, but once the speech had been pulled apart with every word and imagined pause duly analysed, opinion became far more divided.

  Cavanagh had not tried to defend himself against Thorn’s accusations, in fact there was no mention at all of America’s internal problems. With respect to the South China Sea, the President had implied that the U.S. was going to sit on its hands and again do absolutely nothing – no retaliation, no attempt to avenge the thirty-two lives lost. There was even a plea to other countries to play nicely. Some argued that it would have been irresponsible of Cavanagh to order some form of retribution against China without definite proof; for others it merely confirmed the truth of what Thorn had said.

  And there had been nothing either concerning China’s unprovoked attacks against Russia. President Golubeva had matched Cavanagh’s live TV address, speaking for some twenty minutes and condemning China for the murder of seventy-nine of its citizens. The act was seen as a deliberate attempt to provoke Russia into an escalating border conflict, Golubeva reinforcing the notion that China intended to reclaim much of its imperialist past; not just Tibet and a few islands in the South China Sea, but Mongolia, Taiwan, and a good chunk of Siberia. Russia’s Eastern Military District had been put on high alert and Golubeva confirmed earlier news reports that Russian artillery had retaliated by hitting military targets inside China.

  Once again Beijing was having to refute accusations involving significant loss of life, the regularity of its denials creating its own problems; few countries now seemed willing to give it the benefit of any doubt, its well-documented belligerence counting against it. Satellite images produced by China claiming to prove that Russia had attacked its own citizens were immediately disputed by Moscow, the United States refusing to confirm or deny the allegations, stating that it was still in the process of evaluating the evidence.

  With China being squeezed between Russia in the north and the United States Navy in the South, other countries now sought to profit from China’s difficulties, some wanting to repay a previous slight: India, Japan, Taiwan, Vietnam – there were plenty ready and willing to join any U.S.-led coalition, sensing it might be their one chance to thwart China’s threatened expansion. Louisa Marcelo was helping maintain public pressure on the Philippine Government, it having to adopt an aggressive stance merely to survive, and throughout South-East Asia, the desire for compromise seemed to have all but evaporated.

  Beijing realised it couldn’t just wait for a powerful group of its enemies to gang up against it – somehow, if China wanted to keep its future plans on track, it needed to wrest back the initiative.

  Chapter 18 – Monday, November 7th

  Eastern United States – 09:52 Local Time; 14:52 UTC

  The President always found the trip to New York frustrating, the roundabout route of Andrews to JFK in Air Force One, then Marine One across to the heliport in downtown Manhattan, seeming unnecessarily complicated. Security concerns were the excuse, Cavanagh too unsure of his facts to argue the point. Just minutes after landing, the President’s motorcade was heading along FDR Drive towards the United Nations Headquarters. Twenty-eight vehicles, plus a dozen motorcycle outriders, traveling at speed along an empty road while around them the Monday-morning Manhattan traffic struggled to cope with road closures and heavy rain – Cavanagh invariably felt uncomfortable at such examples of privilege, where possible cutting back on the frivolous, trying to set a good example.

  Now such trivial concerns seemed totally irrelevant. Cavanagh was having to fight for his political career, unsure who he could count on, fearful of not doing the ‘right’ thing. The Post’s latest editorial had been stinging in its condemnation of Cavanagh’s TV address and his handling of China; there was even an unsubtle hint that he should abandon thoughts of a second term. Under different circumstances, Cavanagh knew The Post would be suggesting he step down, but with no Vice-President that particular idea was a non-starter.

  A week ago, Cavanagh would have judged the Cabinet totally loyal; now the cracks were starting to show, Thorn perhaps not the first to abandon ship. The Secretary of State’s letter of resignation had finally been found, Amy Pittman handing it to him as they had walked towards Air Force One.

  Once aboard, Cavanagh had ripped it open, reading the formal words with rising contempt. The sense of betrayal still rankled, Thorn’s twisting of the facts to suit his own specific message an unjust end to his two years as Secretary of State. The public mood was still extremely negative, the onli
ne petition against Cavanagh now passing two million. As its numbers rose, so the stock market continued its downward trend, opening that morning twelve percent lower than the previous Monday. The voting chaos had continued, with Alaska the latest state to report polling places shut and voters turned away.

  The motorcade turned left off the 42nd Street exit, Cavanagh readying himself for the speech of his life. Whether it was the stress of the moment or something else, he suddenly realised a bead of perspiration was running down his face.

  “Mr President, are you alright?”

  Cavanagh glanced across at the National Security Adviser seated to his left, forcing a smile. “Yes Amy, I’m fine. Didn’t sleep that well, that’s all.” Now his nose was running as well. “Probably the start of a cold…”

  Any further comments were cut short as the limousine slowed to a halt, a Secret Service agent immediately pulling open the car door.

  Cavanagh spent the next thirty minutes in a daze, going through the motions, shaking hands and saying the rights things but not really feeling he was actually there. Although he could be nervous before a big speech, Cavanagh had learned to cope with generally no-one ever the wiser. Now he felt light-headed, dabbing at his face and nose, silently swearing at the cold that threatened to spoil his big speech – one sneeze and the drama of the moment could easily be lost.

  As the adrenalin kicked in, he seemed to regain his focus, nose and sweat glands finally behaving themselves. He strode confidently up onto the stage, the General Assembly Hall spread out before him, his message going out live to every media outlet across the world.

  “Mr. President, Mr. Secretary General, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen; we come together at this crucial moment in time, the threat of an international war hanging over us. I’m sure we all share the hope that the world will never again see the madness of a world war, but the danger of further escalation cannot be ignored. Several proud nations have already suffered loss; innocent lives unnecessarily sacrificed.

  “Let me make this very clear to everyone in this great hall and those watching around the world: for many of the nations represented here, the delicate balance of peace and economic growth that has endured for three-quarters of a century is under serious threat, the three most powerful countries in the world watching each other for the first sign of weakness, with a single misjudgement or misunderstanding liable to push us all into the abyss.

  “Two clear choices stand before us – continue as we are with the vicious circle of provocation and reprisal, ever widening; or a unified and concerted effort to reduce tension and solve for all time the problems that have led to the present confrontation. A single nation, even three or four, brave enough to step back from the brink of war will not be enough, we must all…”

  Cavanagh swayed slightly, almost losing his train of thought, trying to cover up his lapse by taking a sip of water from the glass in front of him. “We must all work together to bring about a lasting peace. Sadly, the record of the past seventy years shows that nations and their leaders cannot be relied upon to hold to promises, even when made in good faith, internal and external pressures weakening their resolve. We don’t need exclusion zones and every small reef militarised, nor should we allow bigger countries to bully and blackmail their smaller neighbours. The United Nations is an organisation that should be justifiably proud of what it has achieved, but on key issues its recent record is disappointing. We argue and debate, a vote for reason defeated by a single veto.”

  This wasn’t what his audience had expected, Cavanagh revealing something of his own frustrations. The President took a second sip of water, the massive screens to left and right revealing a slight tremble in his right hand.

  “The selfish aspirations of the few must not be allowed to generate turmoil across half the globe. The United Nations has the authority to act, and through its members, the military muscle, but does it have the will? The President and Secretary-General can only do so much; the real power lies with those who wish to create a world where stability and peace would inevitably lead to prosperity for all.

  “The United States has supported the United Nations since its inception, Franklin D Roosevelt one of those who believed it could be trusted to solve problems similar to those we face today. Personally, I fear he would be bitterly disappointed with the reality. The world needs the U.N. to be forceful and proactive, a body which is truly willing to take on and find solutions. We can still all work within certain guarantees, but the United Nations must prove…”

  Cavanagh stopped suddenly, his body swaying more noticeably this time, eyes seeming to lose focus. “The U.N must prove that it has the will to achieve a permanent…” His voice trailed away, and he almost fell, having to clasp the top for support. Reacting instinctively, a Secret Service agent raced forward, left arm curling around the President protectively, Cavanagh almost seeming to collapse against him.

  The polite silence was broken by an increasing clamour as the delegates reacted to the scene unfolding in front of them, the President helped off the stage, white-faced and barely able to stand.

  * * *

  McDowell watched the scene from New York with a wry smile: Cavanagh’s reaction to the drug had been more rapid and far more dramatic than planned, but they could hardly have timed the effect better, the President illustrating to the world his apparent frailty. Most observers would assume that the stress of recent weeks had finally ground him down; either that or he was seriously ill. Yet Cavanagh’s near-collapse also created problems for McDowell, it now certain that the drug used would be revealed significantly earlier than anticipated, the White House perhaps even regarding it as a failed assassination attempt.

  McDowell was one of five men and women seated in the computer centre, every console occupied, the large screen now split into thirty-two separate views. The vast majority were live images, the remainder data streams revealing the latest economic and voting statistics. So far, everything was progressing as well as McDowell could have hoped and his main concern was the tenacious nature of those arrayed against him. It surely couldn’t be too long before the FBI located the farmhouse complex. To abandon it was always an option, McDowell just not wanting to do so without good cause; all of those involved were well aware of the risks, the potential rewards for success far outweighing the penalty for failure.

  Anderson hooking-up with the FBI was to be expected; the torpedo attack on the USS Milius was not, the artillery bombardment of Khabarovsk also looking to be part of the same strategy. President Golubeva was definitely working to an accelerated agenda, the reason for her willingness to commit substantial resources to this second phase now easier to understand.

  It was a problem McDowell had struggled with: he could threaten to delay or even pull out completely, but their schedule was now virtually self-sustaining. In any case, his team was already fully committed and Sukhov would know it was no more than an empty threat. Events in the South China Sea were certainly well out of McDowell’s control, everyone now waiting to see how China would react. In the end he had demanded Russia refrain from further action, reinforcing to Sukhov the need for at least forty-eight hours of stability.

  Sukhov had at first been non-committal, returning McDowell’s call within the hour to agree with everything he had asked. McDowell assumed Golubeva had recognised that the situation in Washington was still fluid, and was wary of ruining everything they had all worked so hard for.

  McDowell glanced up at the main monitor: the CNN news ticker was reporting that Cavanagh was being taken to Mount Sinai Hospital east of Central Park. There was no update as to his condition, the anchorman stating that the President had looked exhausted, ‘the demands of the last few days obviously taking its toll’.

  McDowell could well imagine the turmoil at Mount Sinai, the Twenty-Fifth Amendment once again raising its convoluted head. Section four of the Amendment specifically dealt with the problem of a President becoming unable – or incapable – of discharging his duties effec
tively. In the latter case, it could only be enacted with the agreement of the Vice-President and a majority of the Cabinet: with no Vice-President, that criterion was thus impossible to meet. Attorney General, doctors, lawyers and advisers would presently be arguing as to what to do, and whether the President could actually be considered ‘unable’. When Reagan had been shot in ’81, Bush as Vice-President had simply refused to invoke the Amendment, leading to demands for future clarification; yet even after forty years nothing had been resolved and whatever the state of Cavanagh’s health, he could not legally be replaced.

  Directly below the CNN segment on the wall monitor was a more static scene, a long-range shot showing the gated entrance to the home of Republican Congressman James Bennett, Speaker of the United States House of Representatives. He might presently be under a cloud over the recent claims of financial impropriety, but with the Vice-President’s resignation, Bennett had become first in the presidential line of succession.

  So far, there had been nothing unusual to see, the expectation being that Bennett’s level of security would prove to be a reliable indicator of the President’s health. As next-in-line, the number of Secret Service agents had already been increased the once, but McDowell now hoped that there would be no further additions.

  After all, he wanted a lame duck President, not a dead one.

  * * *

  Anderson crouched close to the edge of the treeline, gaze looking east across the farmland to the high chain-link fence and the buildings beyond. Flores waited beside him, finger pressed to his earpiece, waiting impatiently for everyone to get into position.

  The repeat of Anderson’s buildings’ search had proved complex and frustrating, the fear of an informer encouraging Flores to bypass normal procedure and stretch his authority to the limit. In just two hours he had pulled together a team of fourteen, each agent well-known to Flores and trusted absolutely.