“Sounds to me like this guy is preaching some new form of communism,” the American President confided to the British Prime Minister. “My people are worried that he plans to grab power and then he’ll misuse it just like Stalin and Mao did.”
“Surely not!” The Prime Minister was shocked at the suggestion. “We tend to think he’s more of a throwback to the nineteen sixties. A bit of a hippy dreamer, preaching ‘peace and love’ to the world with no practical experience in running anything. Confronted with the realities of power he will expose himself for the innocent he is.”
“We’ll do the broadcast with him and show the guy up for the flake he is,” the President concluded.
As he hung up, he looked around the Oval Office for approval of this announcement, but everyone seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with him.
Forty-Seven
The Ukrainian had retrieved a phone number for the girl who was hoping to sell the stolen semen via the Dark Web. When he dialled the number from a new phone she answered after only two rings.
“I hear you have a product and you are looking for a buyer.”
“I’m looking for a million dollars.” He was struck by how young she sounded.
“New Zealand dollars?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, which suggested to him yet again that he was not dealing with a professional. She was making things up as she went along.
“American dollars,” she said. “Cash.”
“Not a problem.”
“And we have to meet in a public place.”
“Sure. Where do you want to meet?”
She named a coffee shop in a mall and he agreed a time to meet the following day. He promised to bring the money in cash.
“I will be wearing a green shirt and green-framed glasses,” he told her. “When we meet, act as if we are old friends.”
“Okay.”
From the eagerness with which she accepted his offer he suspected that the other buyers she had been talking to had been far less co-operative. They had probably quibbled about the money and they had probably wanted to know how she could prove that the product was what she said it was. If she had more experience she would have realised that he was agreeing to the deal far too easily to be true.
That evening he visited the coffee shop, dressed in black and without glasses, to make sure he knew where all the entrances and exits were. He bought a coffee and watched the way the staff worked. He went to the toilet and checked out the windows and the security cameras both inside the premises and surrounding it. He did not want to repeat the experience of being in the club with no idea of the layout.
The following morning he stuffed a sports bag with newspapers to make it look like it was full of money, dressed himself as he had described to her on the phone, and drove to the mall. He went into a shop opposite the coffee bar and waited until he had seen her go in, buy a coffee and sit down, then he walked purposefully across, zig-zagging to avoid the security cameras.
Once inside he walked straight over to her.
“Hi,” he said sitting down beside her and pecking her on the cheek as if they were old friends, or perhaps even lovers.
“Hi,” she replied. “Lovely to see you.”
He was impressed; she obviously knew how to act.
“Do you have the product?” he asked.
“Do you have the cash?”
“In the bag.”
She glanced at the sports bag and then lifted a large holdall onto the seat between them. He glanced in and saw what looked like a freezer box.
“I brought your bag,” he said in a normal conversational voice for the benefit of people at the neighbouring tables.
He placed the bag on her lap so that no one else could see that he had slid a knife up inside her rib cage. Even she didn’t realise for a few seconds. She looked down and the blood was bubbling out behind the bag. By the time she looked back up he was already leaving the premises with the holdall and she was dead before she was able to cry out for help. It was several minutes before someone noticed that the girl slumped in the corner was not responding when asked if the seat next to her was taken. Then several people noticed the blood pooling on the floor around her feet and they started to scream. By that time the Ukrainian was driving away from the mall, wearing a white T-shirt and dark glasses with gold rims. The green shirt and glasses went into a bin several miles from the mall and were never found by anyone.
Once safely back in his apartment, he unwrapped a new phone and made a number of calls to let people know what he had to sell.
Forty-Eight
Virtually every senior figure in the American and Russian armies had accepted the invitation from a consortium of banks, corporations and bodies representing industry sectors such as pharmaceuticals, guns, oil, real estate, cars and mining. The Chinese generals had also been approached and had cautiously agreed to send a few senior representatives. The invitation was for a long weekend at a Las Vegas hotel, which had been turned over entirely to hosting the event. If big business was going to be asked to provide funding for the armed forces in the future, its leaders wanted a chance to get to know the people they would be dealing with.
The hosts had shipped all the hotel’s other guests out, finding them alternative accommodation along the strip, and had surrounded the premises with their own security staff. The media were not informed of the meeting and to any casual passers-by it would have looked like a large conference of business people, interspersed with soldiers who might well have been enjoying their leave.
None of the participants’ presidents was officially informed of the event, although the Russian President had found out from one of his most trusted generals. The Chinese President had also been informed unofficially and was assured that his staff was listening in at any number of different points in the hotel, just in case they found themselves excluded from any of the discussions. The Chinese President was not averse to the idea of keeping a dignified distance from the other countries for as long as possible. He suspected that it would play better with his own population if he was seen not to be considering military options for maintaining his power base. From what he had heard it seemed that public feelings were more sympathetic towards the quiet approach of his regime than they were to the sabre-rattling proclamations coming out of the Oval Office. He wanted to maintain that advantage for as long as possible.
The trigger for the meeting might have been the rumours that Joe and his twelve followers were planning to call a halt to the financing of armies and the procurement of armaments, but the fact that their forces had been put on permanent stand-by to deal with whatever unrest might result from Joe’s pronouncements to the world seemed to all of the delegates at the Las Vegas venue to confirm that they were still needed to maintain law and order and protect the status quo in a world that was teetering on the edge of revolution. None of them believed that it was either practical or right that they should suddenly be disbanded and told that their services were no longer required, their “guns to be turned back into ploughshares” as one of the Russian generals put it.
“Human nature doesn’t change overnight,” one of the American generals had been widely quoted in the media as saying. “If you suddenly do away with all the armed forces there will be nothing to stop rogue aggressors from invading unprotected countries. There will be nothing to stop the more unsavoury elements of society from rising up and taking control. Do people really want a world run by drug barons and religious fanatics?”
Many commentators had pointed out that throughout history it had often been society’s most unsavoury elements who had controlled the most powerful and destructive armies, that many of the most respected “gamekeepers” had started their careers as “poachers”.
When Joe’s messages about creating a global government had first started to circulate in both the m
ainstream and social media, the general consensus in military circles was that each of their political leaders would want to protect their positions and that their budgets would therefore be safe and might even be increased to match the increased risk of insurrection. As the numbers following and liking the messages that Joe was putting out increased exponentially, some of the more politically acute military experts had sensed that their political leaders and supporters were beginning to waver in their determination to protect their military budgets.
When the weight of public opinion on the internet and other media started to talk seriously about the possibility of disbanding armies completely and directing the funds to places where they could do more good, such as healthcare and education, the political leaders did not immediately leap to their defence. The generals began to feel that they could no longer rely on the backing of their leaders. If giving up their armies was the only way that the politicians could cling onto their power, the generals were beginning to envisage their own powerbases being pulled out from under them. That was why they had decided it was time to make plans for their own survival.
The idea of unleashing hundreds of thousands of trained soldiers into the civilian world overnight, having stripped them of their jobs and their status, was alarming to anyone who understood well the average soldier’s capacity for anger and destruction when not kept under control. Some predicted that it would lead to a rise in mercenary armies, with criminal organisations recruiting the soldiers for their own nefarious purposes. Others predicted epidemics of alcohol and drug abuse among a population of predominantly young people, suddenly feeling that they had been thrown on the scrapheap after being promised a lifetime’s employment.
“It’s obviously a naïve and short-sighted approach,” one high-ranking American general announced to a conference hall full of his peers, “and entirely impractical to implement at such short notice. We have been told that they are claiming that trillions of dollars are currently being spent on armies, armaments and space surveys and that all that money should overnight be redirected towards raising people out of poverty, providing a universal basic income, providing free healthcare and feeding the hungry. All very altruistic no doubt, but wholly impractical.
“How are they going to be able to get food to those who need it in the middle of Africa without soldiers to guard the convoys? How are they going to stop the bullies who run the dictatorships around the world from simply marching across internationally established borders and plundering whatever they want? Who will stop the millions of dispossessed who are being affected by political turmoil and drought in the southern hemisphere from simply marching north and taking what they want from those who currently own it?
“The politicians blow with the wind. They see this crackpot and his young hippy followers as potential voters and they don’t believe they can stand up to them. While they have us behind them they can still hold on to their positions, but if they agree to these demands they will have given away all hope of clinging to power. We need to be strong and take the decisions on their behalf if we are to save the entire global system from collapse.”
There was a vigorous round of applause as a conference room full of strong men and women pounded their palms together and slapped the table tops in a show of international solidarity. Russians and Americans were united by what they saw as a mutual foe, a new enemy that they could only defeat if they worked together and forgot past differences. The few Chinese generals sitting at the back of the room applauded politely but their expressions gave away nothing of what they were actually thinking.
Entertainment had been laid on for the guests in the hotel theatre and dining rooms as well as in the casino. After a long day of meetings, the American general who had earlier been speaking had eaten a large meal and was digesting it with a brandy when he was informed that a Russian of equivalent rank to himself wished to have a private meeting, just the two of them with their translators.
“By all means,” the general boomed, “bring him in.”
Both men were aware of one another’s distinguished military records and there was a cordial atmosphere of mutual respect as the Russian and his translator sat down and the heavy doors to the private room were pulled shut by hotel staff. An American and a Russian guard took up positions outside the doors to ensure there was no interruption.
“I believe we have both spent time in Afghanistan,” the Russian said, as if merely trying to find some common ground upon which to build a relationship.
“A godforsaken country if ever there was one,” the American replied.
“A lot of snakes,” the Russian continued after a few moments of thought. “Dangerous ones.”
“Indeed. My soldiers used to go out hunting them at night,” the American agreed.
“The best way to deal with a snake,” the Russian went on after a significant pause, “is to cut off the head, fast and clean. Don’t play games with it. Don’t wait to see what will happen next, just take off the head.”
The American realised that they were no longer actually talking about snakes or Afghanistan.
“It was the same in Russia in 1918,” the Russian continued.
“The revolution?”
“The Tsar and his family. Executed quickly and cleanly. Then the revolution could proceed successfully.”
“An execution?” The American mulled the word over thoughtfully, his eyes boring into the Russian’s impassive face. “Interesting suggestion.”
They talked on for a while until interrupted by a knock on the doors. One of the guards stepped smartly in once his general had barked his permission.
“Apologies for the interruption, sir.”
“What?”
“Reports are coming in of crowds of protestors forming all over the city and marching towards the hotel.”
The two generals exchanged tight-lipped looks.
“Where is the Chinese contingent?” the American general asked.
“I believe they are in the casino, sir.”
“Find the best vantage point to see the streets and take us there,” the American commanded.
Three minutes later he and the Russian were standing side by side in a bedroom on the twentieth floor of the hotel looking down through binoculars at the streets below, which were already thronged with crowds waving banners and burning torches, shouting slogans up at the hotel windows.
“We stand for the Earth we stand on!”
It was possible to see more coming from surrounding streets, bringing traffic to a halt in every direction. The translators stood between the two generals.
“How in God’s name did they manage to raise so many people so quickly?” the American wondered.
“Activists working on the internet,” the Russian replied. “They have great power now. More than we ever had. They put out a call to micro-influencers and millions hear it and respond. This is the new warfare.”
“Micro-influencers?”
“People with more than five thousand authentic followers,” the Russian explained.
“You knew this was going to happen?” The American’s tone had hardened. “Did the information leak to these micro-influencers come from your people in St Petersburg?”
The Russian ignored the question. “We are guests in your country, General.” His voice was low and threatening. “I trust you are going to be able to ensure our safety.”
“They’re just pacifists,” the American replied after scanning the crowd once more, “making their point. They won’t hurt anyone. We will leave it to the police to deal with. I assure you, General, you and your colleagues are perfectly safe.”
“Those are big crowds,” the Russian mused, “and this is just one city. It will be hard for you to control them all. If we do not cut the head off the snake soon it will only grow larger, until it is big enough to swallow us all.”<
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“I entirely understand what you are saying, General. You have succeeded in making your point,” the American said, turning smartly on his heel and leaving the room.
Forty-Nine
The Ukrainian was working in front of the mirror. He had padded his cheeks from the inside and fitted a set of different teeth over this own, transforming the appearance of his face. He then shaved his head with meticulous care and altered the shape of his eyebrows. He had not shaved for a few days and was able to carve the resultant growth into a fashionable style, the sort of style which would be popular with someone who worked in a television studio but different to the look he had affected at Joe’s televised interview.
It was now more important than ever that he was successful in his mission. The previous night a phone which had not rung for many years had brought him a message from a source deep inside the CIA. It appeared that the Americans also wanted to hire his services, and they wanted him to target the same man as his other employers. He was fairly confident that neither side knew that the other had contacted him and he wanted to finish the business quickly, before they found out. This one killing would now result in several fees and make him rich enough never to have to work again.
He intended to perform the assassination at the television studio where Joe was going to be talking to the political leaders. That way the whole world, including all his various employers, could witness that he had completed his assignment successfully. He was aware that there would be a number of people at the studio who were also backstage at the previous broadcast. He didn’t want any of them to see anything familiar about his face. He also knew that however careful he might have been before, he was bound to have been recorded on security cameras and he did not want to trigger any facial recognition algorithms.
Call Me Joe Page 28