by Young, Mark
“Not really. I knew he was interested in the scientific fields your father and I studied. But specifically, no, I didn’t find anything. There may be only one place we can get our hands on that information.”
“You mean…”
Joe nodded. “Harrogate. It wasn’t until he took you to that location that I realized its strategic importance. Not just its proximity to NSA’s largest tracking installation in the world, part of ECHELON, with access to all the major world power’s intelligence data. But Kane’s mansion could become a central clearinghouse for whatever the Megiddo Project sought or a launching site to other locations, other host servers. Plugging into NSA’s communications network like some neighbor who runs an electrical cord to your house to tap electricity. Except Kane may have become a part of the household, so to speak. Some very well-connected people may have allowed him to tap into their network from his place at Harrogate. People with the same political agenda—globalization at all costs.
“It wasn’t until we tracked you to his place in England that I began to put it together. At least I could guess where he was storing his data and information—none of which was going out over the Internet. That’s when I realized he directed the operation in face-to-face encounters with people, very seldom risking exposure by using technology to communicate his ideas and orders. At least until this project Megiddo.”
“What changed?” Gerrit leaned back, watching as his uncle continued to search online.
Joe finally glanced up. “Say we’re facing a threat of a major WWIII kind of war across the globe. First, military leaders will break down the war into chunks of arenas, say Europe, Asia, North America, etcetera. Within each of these arenas, lines must be drawn and battles waged. But even before all this happens, a massive intelligence operation must be up and running to feed critical information to the command staff, to establish a network of assets and sources, and to acquire vital information about the enemy’s tactics, capabilities, and strategy.”
Gerrit nodded. “I understand. So, Project Megiddo—”
“Exactly, they are going to use Megiddo to build this massive intelligence base in order to launch an offensive.”
“How can they possibly hope to coordinate this on a worldwide front?”
“Through technology used under the operation name of Project Megiddo. At least that’s my suspicion. Somehow, Kane’s people—or other co-opted scientists—have created a kind of network of proxy servers on steroids, using some kind of quantum-computer breakthrough. I think that is what your dad suspected and began to collect information to prove it.”
“I thought we were years away from any usable breakthrough in quantum computers.”
Joe shook his head. “We’re closer than you think. For example, IBM financed a research group at the Watson Research Center in Yorktown Heights, New York, to actively pursue advances made at Yale University and the University of California, Santa Barbara. University researchers believe that standard microelectronics manufacturing technologies can offer quantum computing using superconducting materials like rhenium or niobium. They face many obstacles, but their findings have been very exciting.”
“So,” Gerrit said, following his uncle’s logic, “if Kane’s people have made a breakthrough with quantum computers, they can use this capability to develop an intelligence-gathering tool no one else can match.”
Joe looked at him with concern. “That’s my point. I believe they already have set up a host of proxy servers to handle and filter all the data they glean from NSA’s system. In some ways, they don’t even need NSA; it just makes their search parameters quicker and more efficient. By linking these servers, using quantum capabilities, they can virtually gain access to any system in the world, break it down, manipulate that system, and extract whatever they desire for their own use. And they can do this without leaving a trace in the host server.”
Gerrit whistled. “Like using stealth bombers without anyone ever realizing they were there.”
Joe nodded. “I believe they have reverse proxies—you know, a computer that appears to be an ordinary server to users—to enable encryption protocols like TLS and SSL to be neutralized and allow access to any secure website they choose. God only knows how they plan on using this information.”
“I have some good ideas how they might use it. They can gather dirt on anyone, turn them, and then use these assets to gain political and military power. We have to expose this.”
“We’ve got to break into Kane’s place in Harrogate to get a better picture of what he’s up to.”
“Are you suggesting we somehow sneak into that place to steal whatever he’s working on?” Gerrit looked around the plane. “With this crew? That’s crazy, Joe.”
Alena glared at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Gerrit.”
His uncle smiled and cocked his head. “You’ve been in combat many times, son. Are you saying a tiny ol’ house in England, protected by a handful of security guards, is going to stop you from saving the world?”
“Saving the world? You have no idea what he’s working on. For all we know, he could be working on a new pill that will make the world slim, trim, and attractive. Now, that is something people might kill over.”
Joe hit the power button and closed up the computer. “Kane would never have blown up your house and killed your friends and family if the stakes weren’t high enough. You might be right about one thing—we don’t know specifically what we’re looking at, which makes breaking in more challenging.”
“Not to mention, we’ll be outgunned. I saw some of the security in that place. It’s state of the art. Hidden shooters with elevated advantage, walls and doors all heavily enforced. I could go on.”
Joe raised an eyebrow. “Makes this operation even more challenging to plan. But first, we need to find out more about Project Megiddo.”
“And where we can find that out?”
“Where everything gets channeled through one way or the other. Washington, D.C.”
“And who is going to give up this information?”
Joe looked at Gerrit carefully. “The one person who has just realized how expendable he is.”
Gerrit suddenly knew where Joe was going in this conversation. “Senator John Summers.”
Joe nodded. “And you may be the only one who can make him talk.”
Another thought hit Gerrit. “Kane will find out I survived that bombing.”
“I believe Kane might already know you’re alive,” Joe said. “Remember when I said you have to trust someone?”
“Trust a politician? You’ve got to be joking.”
Stretching, Joe leaned back and raised his legs, flexing his feet. “Not a politician, Gerrit. A father. That man lost a daughter to Kane’s ambitions. He may still believe it was the work of those Russian gangsters, but sooner or later the truth will break free. You can help him see the truth. If you do that, you can unlock what we have been trying for years to uncover.”
Gerrit looked out the side window into the darkness beyond. He wondered about the senator and what the man valued most—power or family.
He’d just have to find out.
Chapter 34
Washington, D.C.
New surveillance vehicles and new faces waited for them as the jet taxied into a private hangar. Gerrit saw a blacked-out Chevy Suburban, midnight blue, and a dirt-spattered white Ford van.
Joe emerged from the cockpit, leaving Redneck at the controls. Joe slid onto the seat next to Gerrit. “Willy did his thing on the computer and tracked Senator Summers to a restaurant just outside D.C. That means he is in town.”
“How did Willy…? Wait a minute. You tagged a senator?”
Joe grinned. “Tagging a senator is not all that hard. We snatched one of his credit cards, did a slight modification, and slipped it back into his wallet.”
Gerrit raised an eyebrow at Joe.
“Getting into a politician’s pocket is easy. We did the dirty deed while he was staying at a real
ly nice hotel after his meeting with you at Dulles.” Joe’s mouth tightened. “Willy also tracked Kane to D.C. He arrived about an hour ago.”
“Kane’s here? You’re able to track him, too?”
“Thanks to your face-to-face with him, we got close enough to pin down his location and plant what we needed to track him.”
“You don’t think he might suspect?”
Joe shook his head. “The guy figures he is too untouchable for anyone to get close. What concerns me is that Kane’s here…now. Maybe he’s having second thoughts about the senator.”
“You think they might try to take out a senator? That’d be crazy.”
“I don’t know what they’re thinking. I’d guess he and Summers will have a few words. But if we’re lucky, we might get close enough to listen in on Kane’s conversation.”
“He must be traveling with a security detail. How are the four of us supposed to get close enough for that?”
“We generally never work alone on operations like this.” Joe nodded toward the parked vehicles outside. “Those guys only know that they’re supposed to report to me—no questions asked. I’ve been fortunate enough to marshal resources almost anywhere, even other countries, through contacts I’ve made. That’s what makes this whole thing work. We may not be able to be as direct as Kane—who allegedly works as a consultant for any number of federal agencies—but we have our own contacts, our own networks based on those with like-minded agendas.”
“Protecting the sovereignty of the United States?”
“And other allies of our government. Like Great Britain, Germany, and France. You can’t imagine the pressure on these countries to bend to a world rule. A one-world government mentality.”
Gerrit shook his head. “I’m sorry, Uncle Joe, but I just can’t buy this conspiracy theory. I’ve heard all these wingnuts talking about the Council on Foreign Relations, the Trilateral Commission, and the super-secret Bilderberg Group, organizations supposedly trying to create control and dominance over the rest of the world. As far as I’m concerned, they’re a bunch of idiots. No one is going to let our country take orders from a world government. I think Kane and his people are a bubble off plumb if that is what they think will happen.”
Joe tapped his fingers on the counter next to him. “Gerrit, we don’t have time to go into all this right now. I believe you’re wrong…gravely wrong. I only mentioned these contacts so you might see where the lines are drawn. I can’t force you to believe that there’s a war going on within our own government. That’s something you’ll have to decide for yourself—if we survive. Until then, I’m going to do my best to keep you and the others alive.”
“You seriously believe that what happened to Mom and Dad—to all of us—is connected to efforts by these globalists to control the world? People like Kane?”
Joe stopped tapping his fingers and drew closer to Gerrit. “Not only do I believe it, but I believe you will soon see that I am right. Take a look at what’s happened so far. What do you think motivated Kane—and others like him—to take these chances? Bombings? Murder? Theft of technology? Simply to make a buck?” His uncle shook his head. “It’s much bigger. The stakes are greater. It’s about power and supremacy of a certain ideology. World order. World control.”
Joe stood, gazing down at Gerrit. “Just keep an open mind. At this moment, we need to talk with Summers and find out what Kane’s up to. Let’s get moving.”
Alena and the others were already off the aircraft, standing near the vehicles. Several men in casual clothing leaned against the vehicles, arms folded, looking at Redneck with some interest.
As they emerged from the hangar, Gerrit turned to his uncle. “I wonder what those guys think of our little group. Especially Redneck.”
Joe chuckled. “My Jewish ninja, my California gangster, and my Chicago head-slammer sure do raise eyebrows. Until they need to blend. Then they leave these surveillance guys in the dust.”
Gerrit smirked. “Jewish ninja? Alena? You’ve got to be kidding.”
Joe smiled. “Don’t get her mad, or you’ll find out the hard way.”
As they walked toward the vehicles, Gerrit looked at his uncle. “What’s the game plan?”
Joe walked over to the surveillance vehicles, beckoning to one of the men standing near the black Suburban. The man handed him a briefcase. “Our group takes point. These guys will back us up if needed. Otherwise, I want them to stay out of our way.”
“What do you want me to do?” Gerrit asked, eyeing the strangers.
Joe placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “You are going to be our star tonight. Front and center.” He tossed the briefcase onto the hood of the vehicle and opened it. He reached inside and pulled out a .9mm Beretta. “Here. I want you to have this in case things go sideways at the house.”
“What do you want me to do? Shoot the senator?”
After closing the briefcase, Joe turned to him. “I want you to stay safe. Use it if you have to. I just want you to walk out of there alive. After everyone gets some rest, we’re going to set up on his house so that you are ready to move tomorrow night when Summers arrives home.”
Senator John Summers felt stress tighten his neck muscles as he entered his two-story brick mansion in Bethesda, Maryland. Home at last. After the chaos and noise of his boisterous day on the Hill, he reveled in the silence that greeted him like a long-lost friend. He sent his limo driver and security detail home for the night.
Checking that the readout on the alarm control box read “Armed,” he made his way to the bar in his den, pouring a stiff Scotch on the rocks to settle his nerves. The press had been hounding him about Marilynn’s death as well as the other deaths in Seattle. They wanted to know whether he was concerned about his own safety, and those newshounds scrambled to wring every morsel of juicy news out of his tragedy. Vultures!
He balanced the drink in one hand as he eased into a leather recliner, yanking on the lever to raise the footrest. He kicked off his shoes and stretched his legs out, flexing aching feet. John placed the drink on the end table next to him, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
“Good evening, Senator. We meet again.” A voice cut across the darkened room.
He shot up, dropping his drink and nearly falling out of the chair just as a light flicked on across the room. John struggled to his feet.
Gerrit O’Rourke sat on the sofa, legs crossed, as if he owned the place.
“How’d you…? You’re alive.”
“Still breathing, Senator. No thanks to you and your friends.”
“Me? My friends? What in Sam Hill are you talking about?” It felt like he was staring at a ghost. “They told me you died.”
“As Mark Twain once said, ‘The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.’”
“I don’t give a rip about Mark Twain. How come they thought you were dead? I mean, Kane told me—”
“Kane lied.” Gerrit rose off the sofa and moved closer to John.
“He told me those Russians killed you…and Marilynn.”
“If they’re Russians, then Kane was the one who hired them. Right now, I don’t know who pulled the trigger. But I do know Kane was behind it. In fact, up until a moment ago, I thought you might have had a hand in it.”
“Me? You think I might have had my own daughter killed? Are you insane?”
Gerrit edged closer. “Then tell me what Kane told you.”
John hesitated as the man drew closer still. John took a step back. “He said the deaths appeared to be connected. That the Russian gangsters retaliated after you killed their boss. Said they’d hit the three of you because of the case you all were working on. I thought…” He fell silent, trying to remember exactly what Kane told him. His face flushed with anger. “That lying son of a—”
“Tell me why Kane seemed to know about the deaths. Think about it, Senator. You do the math.”
John looked at Gerrit for a moment without speaking. “What have I done?” Slowly, John sank back into
the chair, head in hands, his voice a tortured whisper. “What have I done?”
Chapter 35
Gerrit didn’t want to lose momentum. Maybe the senator had a heart after all. It was time to make his move while the man seemed vulnerable.
Gerrit crossed the room and made a drink for both of them from the wet bar. He felt the handheld radio under his coat and heard someone click a static transmission in his earplug. He hoped Joe and the others were picking all this up.
He glanced over at the senator. The man’s shoulders sagged, chest heaving as he tried to stifle deep sobs. Drinks in hand, Gerrit drew near and handed one glass to Summers. “Here, drink this. It might help.”
As the senator reached for it, Gerrit’s jacket opened to reveal the holstered weapon under his left arm.
“You came into my house armed. What are you going to do? Kill me?”
Gerrit drew back and looked down at the senator. “I didn’t know what I’d face here. For all I know, you and Kane were working together to cover up everything.”
“You must not think very highly of me to believe I’d be complicit in Marilynn’s death.” The senator glared at him. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m a father first.”
“That was not the feeling I got from Marilynn.” Gerrit returned to the sofa and sat down. “She never felt she was good enough for you. Always trying to impress you.”
Summers clasped the drink in both hands, peering down into the glass. “I may have pushed her hard, but I did it for her own good. She had the potential to do great things. Maybe even run for office.”
Gerrit took a drink before replying. “Yeah, that’s quite an achievement, Senator. Look what it got you. Working with bottom feeders like Kane.”
The senator scowled. “I have this country’s best interests at heart. Always have.”
“You mean like selling this country out to those who want our sovereignty to take a backseat to a one-world order?” He remembered what Joe had said, and thought it might be a good time to test out his uncle’s theory. See if Joe might be right.