I was close enough to hear their conversation.
Mary was speaking to them in a high-pitched agitated voice. “I tell you someone broke into the storage building and stole food and weapons. I couldn’t tell exactly what they took.” She spoke in an accented voice, probably South American.
“Don’t worry Mary, we’ll find the bastard and kill him.” Mike said.
“Since he’s now armed, we need to call the mainland to get some of our guys out here. With at least ten men, we can make short order of the search,” Gimble said. “If we make the call soon, they can be here first thing in the morning.”
I immediately understood that if I waited until morning, the ten additional goons, along with Mike and Gimble, would certainly flush me out. Not enough places to hide on this small island.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Mike replied. “Let’s go to the storage building and figure out what he stole. We need to know what we’re facing.”
I slid to the side of the equipment building as they passed, and moved to the edge of the building as the two men entered the other structure. Mary remained outside.
After about ten minutes they came out. “What did he take?” Mary asked.
Gimble shook his head. “It looks like he took food and a few other things. But what we need to be worried about is that he stole the .12 gauge shotgun and shells along with a machete. That changes everything.”
“Until the reinforcements arrive, we need to hunker down here in the compound with one of us guarding the entrance to the camp at all times,” Mike said, looking around. “I wonder where the bastard is right now.”
“Listen Mike,” Gimble said. “We’ll electrify the fence, lock the gates and then I’ll station myself at the front of the camp.”
I knew if I left the compound and they activated the electronic fence, I wouldn’t be able to get back in. My only chance of survival was to incapacitate these guys tonight prior to the reinforcements arriving in the morning. I knew they would be busy for a while securing everything, so I had to find a reasonable hiding place until I could move around in the dark. I hesitated and listened.
Mike took Mary by the arm, “Sweetie, you go back to the trailer and make the call to Dimitri. Tell him that someone is on the island with us, and that he’s armed and aware of our drug operation. We’ve been unable to locate the bastard, and need at least ten men to assist us in locating and eliminating him. Can you do that for me honey?”
“Sure Mike, don’t worry about me,” Mary replied. “Just get this done so we can get back to our normal activities. This situation makes me nervous.” She began walking back toward the trailer.
I watched as Mike and Gimble headed toward the equipment building. Not being able to hear them, I assumed that they were discussing their plans.
When they went inside the structure, I moved to the corner of the building. Crouching, I ran as fast as I could toward the trailer. I knew that Mary was inside; probably occupied with the phone call she was instructed to place.
When I got to the backside of the trailer, I spotted the other building. Since by view was blocked before, I didn’t realized how large the structure was. I ran to the building and was surprised to discover that the sliding door wasn’t locked. An open padlock was hanging on the hinge, indicating that one of the three people had recently been inside the building. I quietly slid the door back and went inside.
The building was clearly temperature and humidly controlled. Stacked about ten feet high were columns of bales. Apparently the marijuana bales were being readied for pickup. I have no ideal what the monetary worth of the stash was.
A long staging table was located on the left side back of the building. I noticed several small items on the table. I went to the table and found a couple of rolls of duct tape and a box cutter. I slipped the items in the backpack.
There was one small window in the back of the left side of the building. I moved to the area and looked outside. Twilight was descending. Oddly the old Platters song came to mind, and the words echoed in my brain. It was Susan’s favorite oldies song. I felt emptiness deep inside, wondering what happened to my beloved wife and daughter.
“Heavenly shades of night are falling, it’s twilight time.
Out of the mist your voice is calling, it is twilight time.
When purple colored curtains mark the end of day.
I’ll hear you, my dear, at twilight time.”
“Deepening shadows gather splendor as day is done.
Fingers of night will soon surrender, the setting sun.
I count the moments darling till you’re here with me
Together at last at twilight time.”
Tears formed in my eyes as I thought of my deep love for Susan and our daughter.
It was Twilight time and here I was, hiding in a building filled with drugs, not even knowing where in the vast ocean this island was located. My only friends were an Albino Monkey named Moses and his partner Zippy. The other inhabitants of the island, two Russian men and a woman wanted me dead. In about twelve hours or so, ten additional assassins would join them to hunt me down and exterminate me.
I shuttered, and then reached deep inside, looking for the courage that I always seemed to find in times of danger and emergencies.
I bit my lip and stood up. I’ll be damned if I’m going to go down easy. I will get out of here and find Susan and Lisa.
A stony calmness filled my senses. I don’t want to kill anyone, but before this night is over, I must subdue Gimble, Mike and Mary, get on that boat and find civilization.
I sat there scheming for about an hour as darkness filled the building. I stood and looked out the window. Clouds covered the moon and it was pitch black outside. I walked to the entrance, slid the door back about two inches. Only the lights in the trailer broke the darkness. I slipped outside the structure and closed the door.
Abruptly bright lights shattered the darkness and it was like midday in the compound. I ducked behind the left side of the building. Apparently Mike and Gimble had turned on all the lights in the compound, including bright spots on the poles. They were prepared for any attack I might be planning. I looked at the perimeter. Several trees outside loomed over the razor wire at the top of the fence. Inside the fence at least three huge trees were adjacent to the outside trees. If an emergency occurred maybe I could climb of those trees to the top and jump over to the other side, catching hold of another tree branch there. On second thought, no way in hell could I get out that way.
Apparently they thought I was outside the compound. With the lights on, the electrified fence protecting the perimeter, and a guard at the front, they felt protected until reinforcement arrived.
I was up shit creek without a paddle.
Chapter 32
Chief of Staff Roy Long entered the room and took a seat without speaking. He obviously was there to later brief the President on the meeting.
Following him, the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Harold Stancil, walked into the cabinet room. The silver-gray was overpowering his black hair since his appointment as Director. The Director of the FBI is, as a normal course of action, under constant pressures, but the past few months had been devastating.
He straightened his black silk tie. His usual impeccably pressed black wool suit was slightly rumpled as he had not slept in eighteen hours, and had not been home to shower or change clothes.
Director Stancil was not noticeably tall; his features were striking but not conspicuously handsome. His hair, now mostly gray, was brushed backward from the temples. There was something very slightly odd about him, but it was difficult to say what it was. Perhaps it was that his eyes didn’t seem to blink often enough and when you talked to him for any length of time. He was a no nonsense man.
“Welcome Harold,” General Lovelace said. “Take a seat.”
Stancil nodded and looked at the anxious faces seated around the oval mahogany table. He recognized all of them as power players in the admin
istration of President James Helms. He took a seat beside CIA Director Henry Taylor.
Lovelace continued. “Harold, I’ve briefed the gentlemen here about the imminent threat. We, along with you, will serve on the select committee to get to the bottom of the threat. The President is committed to the protection of the American people and our Democracy. Everyone here has been cleared to receive classified information. Please update us on the situation.”
Director Stancil knew from his undercover agent with the Russian Mafia that there were people in positions of power in Government that were involved in the plot to overthrow the Government of the United States. He didn’t know who to trust.
He stood and looked around the table again. Speaker Stockman grinned at him. The rest of the men at the table were subdued and staring at him with anxious eyes. He did not trust Stockman.
“Gentlemen, as I’m sure you’ve been told, we had an undercover agent embedded in the Russian mafia. A couple of weeks ago, he discovered a plot which indicated that the Russian Mafia was working with ISIS in developing a plan to overthrow the US government. Nuclear weapons were mentioned.” Stancil hesitated, and took a deep breath.
“His information at the time was limited, however he indicated that a high ranking government official was involved, along with other lower level US Government personnel. He acquired this information by developing a friendship with a Muslim who had been radicalized by ISIS. He obtained and copied coded information from the person’s home computer. Later, when serving as a bodyguard for his Russian Mafia boss, he was posted outside the door when the Muslim met with them. He heard the participants talking about a nuclear weapon being in place in the USA. The location was not mentioned.” Stancil hesitated. There was total silence in the room.
“Later I received an urgent call from my Agent requesting a face to face meeting at a safe house. The call lasted no longer than twenty seconds. He related that he had obtained additional physical evidence along with the coded information, but was concerned that he might have been compromised. Unfortunately, on the day that the meeting was to take place, his mutilated and beheaded body was discovered in a plastic bag at the foot of the Washington Monument. The enemy, of course, was sending us a message. For security purposes the local police listed the undercover agent, after consultation with us, as a homeless man who was slain by thieves. We claimed the body so no further publicity could ensue.” Stancil stopped, and took a drink of water.
“These people are savages. We have no physical evidence, only what my Agent verbally articulated to me. He was one of our finest operatives, so I don’t doubt his information. We have been unable to find the Muslim he acquired the coded information from. The man’s home was emptied and wiped cleaned when we arrived. The Mafia boss he worked for disappeared without a trace. We know the plot exists, but we have no further details at this time. The Agent’s apartment was searched and contained no helpful information.”
There was complete silence in the room. Everyone appeared to be in shock.
Vice President Alex Broome was the first to speak. “How in the hell did the FBI allow this to happen? You are supposed to be the foremost law enforcement agency in the world. You hear rumors, but have no proof of anything.”
Stancil did not respond to the outburst.
Speaker of the House Stockman stood up. “Mr. Vice President, we are all stunned by this information, but it does no good to shout at the Director. Harold, is there any other information that may lead us to the identity of the conspirators? Is there a time frame you can give us on when you will have additional information?”
“Harold, before you answer let me make a statement,” CIA Director Henry Taylor said. “I want to assure the Select Committee that the CIA will offer full support and assistance to the FBI. I am certain that foreign governments must be involved so this gives up joint jurisdiction with the FBI. I will meet with Harold after the meeting to develop mutual plans of actions.”
Director Stancil bit his lip and remained silent. The last thing he needed was the CIA involvement in the investigation. He couldn’t even trust his Agents at the FBI with the most critical parts of the information. He hoped that he could convince Director Taylor in the private meeting to allow the FBI handle it alone.
Attorney General Lovelace stood. “As Harold reported to you, there is no additional information available at this time. As soon as more evidence is uncovered, you will be informed. This situation is top priority. I expect each of you to be diligent and inform Director Stancil or me if you observe any government employees acting peculiar in any way. We don’t know if his undercover Agent was correct or not concerning top-level employees in the government being involved in the plot. Anything else Harold before I adjourn the meeting?”
“One additional point,” Director Stancil said. “I currently have another undercover Agent embedded in the one of the organizations. The Agent is presently in contact with me, and expects to report important new intelligence soon. At this time, with due respect, I can’t divulge any further information about the location or identity of the Agent.”
“What in the hell do you mean? We’ve been cleared for top secret information,” Vice President Broome shouted.
“I am sorry sir,” Stancil replied.
“The meeting is adjourned,” Attorney Loveless said.
The VP got up indignantly, and stomped out of the room.
Roy Long walked up to the Controller. “Wait a moment until everyone leaves,” he said.
As soon as the room emptied, Long nodded to the Controller. “As you know it’s required that when the President addresses a joint session of congress for the State of The Union speech, he must name a member of his Cabinet to be the ‘designated survivor.’ In this special case he wants to bestow that honor on you. In the event of a catastrophe, someone must step in and restore order. Will you accept this appointment?”
The Controller was shocked. He sat silently for moment thinking. “Of course I will. Give my thanks to the President.”
The Controller rose from his seat and calmly walked out of the room. This unexpected turn of events put him in an unforeseen position. The primary reason for eliminating Senator Roberts and Governor Patton was to put the VP Broome in the position of winning the Presidency without any established competition. That was the backup plan in the event that the Master Plan hit a snag. He had complete power over Broome and would face no challenge from him in taking over control of the government.
The Controller and his ISIS Forces in the USA used the Russian Mafia for financial support and to carry out assassinations and other things that required physical force. The Russians expected a prodigious position of power after the Coup took place in payment for these efforts.
Based on his appointment, the Controller was pleased that he was now in the position to take control of the country if the Master Plan was executed as planned.
His masterful back up plan to manipulate the election of VP Broome and to control him through blackmail probably would not be necessary. In that case, the Russians might be upset that they had lost three of their primary assassins in the elimination of Roberts and Patton.
The Controller’s appointment as ‘Designated Survivor’ made those deaths unnecessary if the Master Plan was successful.
He decided at that moment to keep the assignment of “Designated Survivor” secret, only to be revealed when the Master Plan appeared to be absolute in its implementation. No sense in unnecessarily upsetting the Russians, or providing them with this vital information at this point in time.
Also, he had critical work to accomplish. The damn covert Agent who is still alive and imbedded in the organization must be discovered and eliminated or his intricate plot could unravel. He was furious at the stupidity of his collaborators in not identifying the spy.
The Controller’s inside information led to the discovery of the first undercover agent, and he personally directed the beheading. Now he had another interloper to locate. The Controller
was angry, very angry.
He whispered “Allahu Akbar,” and his anger subsided.
Director Stancil left the room and hurried back to his office. He closed and locked the door. Picking up his secure line, he punched in Agent Stewart’s private number. He needed to inform Stewart of the undercover Agent’s identity, and secure his assistance to have a withdrawal plan in place for her if necessary.
He didn’t want to lose Macy too.
Chapter 33
Two days had passed since Special Agent Gerry Stewart talked to Director Stancil. He called on one occasion, but was told that the Director was busy with a Special Presidential project.
After receiving the autopsy report from Doctor Makena, and the preliminary forensic report from Agent Dan Garcia, he was convinced that the murder of Mrs. Roberts was set up to frame Senator Roberts. All the physical evidence pointed to his guilt, but Stewart had seen elaborate frames before.
A blaring horn interrupted his thoughts as he sat in his Lexus at a stoplight. He frowned, and drove forward merging onto the Northwest Freeway. Soon he took the first right onto W. 43rd street. Driving another half mile, he took a sharp left onto One Justice Park Drive. His windshield wipers slapped the light drizzle of rain from the windshield. He pulled into the parking lot and marveled again at the new FBI Headquarters in Houston.
It was called the Emerald City or Green Monster, but the FBI’s nameless new eighty million dollar super building is high-tech and energy-efficient, built to hold off enemies from bomb-laden trucks to hurricanes.
What makes it especially different is that the eight-story building is not only startlingly green, but also the first FBI building the government has built and owns — rather than leases — since the Oklahoma City bombing attack of 1995.
After the federal building there was shredded by explosives, Washington began evaluating vulnerabilities to terrorism and establishing minimum-security standards.
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