“That is impossible,” responded Gerut. “Each agency has many secrets. They will never share them willingly.”
“Who says that they have a choice,” smiled Slezeak.
“What…?” was all that Gerut could get out of his mouth.
“That’s right,” Homeland Security has the power to demand any information from any agency. By presidential decree they must supply anything we ask for. In addition, we can choose anyone we want to be part of Homeland Security.”
“Any information?” asked Gerut.
“We decide what we need to know and we don’t have to share it with anyone else. We can take over any investigate we please in the name of Homeland Security. In, addition, we have many organizations under our wing. They all report to us. TSA is a new organization that controls the airports and other means of transportation. Also the Border Patrol is now part of Homeland Security. We also control the Coast Guard and now rule the seas around America. We can control who enters the country and who leaves. If we decide, we can detain anyone for as long as we want under the Homeland Security umbrella. Remember we have pushed through the ‘Patriot Act’. This allows us to detain anyone at any time. They have no rights once we detain them. We are making America safe, strong and also very secretive, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m familiar with the Act. The actual acronym is the U.S.A. Patriot Act. Its real name is the “Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism Act of 2001”.
“Good you have done your homework,” said Slezeak. “So, you understand we have a perfect vehicle to implement our long range plans.
“Many American don’t like it because it means the government can look into anything they do in the name of “Domestic Terrorism”. Big brother is watching and can swoop in at any time,” Gerut interjected.
“This is true,” replied Slezeak. “But in the hands of the proper people like you and me, Homeland Security can not only protect the borders, but can control them as well. Kind of like an occupation, don’t you think?”
Gerut finally started to get the picture. “You mean that if the Effort controlled Homeland Security, we would have a way of controlling the people and no one could touch us. Kind of like the Gestapo.”
“Yes, kind of fits into the plan our ancestors began when they arrived here, don’t you agree?”
“But in America, politicians make the decisions,” Gerut said. “We will have to take our orders from them.”
“This is why we are going to develop several political candidates and even eventually elect a President. Then the Effort will gain control of America and the “Third Reich” will rise again. No one will be able to resist the new United States,” Slezeak said in proud fashion.
“So we will control several key industries, control the borders, control people through the Patriot Act, control the media and control the government.” Gerut said with the enthusiasm of a confirmed zealot.
“That has always been the plan and we are nearing completion. In another ten years, we will succeed.”
“I had no idea we had come this far,” added Gerut with admiration in his eyes. “But where do I fit in?” asked Gerut.
“The Director of Homeland Security is very old and in bad health. The politicians of the Effort have lobbied with the President to nominate me as the Director. This will happen within the next year. I will be the highest ranking Effort member. It will be my destiny to take over the country. I will lead the Effort, not Fogel. But I will need your help.”
Gerut suddenly realized he could have a second chance to gain control of the Effort. He also recognized that Slezeak was intending to change the long term plans for America and install himself as a dictator. It was the position he wanted. He now eyed Slezeak like a hungry wolf would eye a lamb. He could bide his time and take the leadership away from Slezeak when he was ready. After all Slezeak was just a dumb bureaucrat. Germany at its highest point was run by soldiers, men who knew how to use a gun and knife. The new Third Reich should be run the same way, he reasoned.
“But, what help would you need?” Gerut replied with sugar in his voice.
“You will head up my army.”
“What, how…?”
“I have gain approval to start a rapid deployment security force. I want you will head up the program.”
“Sounds like the storm troopers,” replied a now interested Gerut.
Ignoring the comment, Slezeak said, “The government has learned there is a need for a small, but very strong and well-trained security force that can be deployed to any location on demand. The recorded horrors of the Katrina hurricane in New Orleans taught us people without law become animals. Many people were killed in the aftermath of Katrina by the police and rioters. The U.S. can’t allow that to happen again. So we are putting together a force that can be sent into any situation and take over by use of Marshall Law. The army will have very broad powers and can arrest or even shoot anyone that they deem as a threat.”
“And you want me to head up the force, right?” Gerut was already calculating in his head. He would need a hundred well trained men.
“Not only will you head up the force, but you will have complete control of the members and their training. John, I’m sure that you will hire the right people for the job, right?” Gerut understood that Slezeak was referring to men who thought like they did.
“Who would I report to?” Gerut asked.
“Why you would report to the Director of Homeland Security, of course. No one else could interfere. You would have complete control of your people. I promise,” Slezeak opened his arms in welcome.
***
Gerut had run the conversation through his mind many times over the last several years and now reviewed his progress.
His was finally proud of his position in life. He had hired and personally trained a hundred and twenty good, solid, fighting men. They were the best equipped small army on the planet and had done many good things. The American public knew preciously little about his troops, yet his troops had helped America on several occasions. Gerut thought about a few.
There was the drug cartel in Mexico his troops had eradicated. They sent the entire organization to their graves. At the same time Gerut had met Danta Lopez. Lopez was at the time a minor player in the drug trade. Now Lopez was a major informant and provided Gerut with targets for his troops. The current Effort plot even involved use of some of the drug kingpin’s people. Lopez had no idea Gerut had plans for Lopez too. He thought Gerut was interested in buying him out. Gerut actually wanted to replace Lopez, with himself.
Then there were the pirates in Somalia. His troops had leveled an entire village on the coast. They had also taken out the leadership of a black gang in Los Angeles. The locals didn’t even hear a shot fired as his men used suppressed weapons to destroy the stronghold. His men had been to Siberia, China, and even Iran. The list was long and in every case the mission supported the American agenda, the Efforts agenda and his own agenda. Gerut thought of himself as an unsung America hero.
Gerut reasoned that he had done great things for America and now it was time to get his payback. It would all happen this evening.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
About the time that the flight containing Colton Banyon and Loni Chen passed Denver, John Gerut left the MGM hotel. He had a meeting with Danta Lopez in a small Latino strip club on Flamingo. It was about a five block walk from the huge MGM hotel. He was dressed in camouflage army pants, a white tee shirt that accented his still buff physique, and a baseball cap with a Yankees logo. He wore dark aviator sunglasses in the bright sun. Not one person took note of his dress. Such was the accepted attire on the strip. People wore anything on the crowded sidewalks. He passed many pretty girls along his journey they smiled at him, but he had too many thoughts on his mind to pay any attention to the women, at least for the moment.
His objective wasn’t to actually meet with Lopez. That would be too dangerous
. Instead he would enter the bar and order a beer at one of the tables. Lopez was expected to be nearby at another table with the illegals that had crossed the border the night before. Gerut wanted to make sure they had arrived. A lot was riding on their part of the Efforts operation. He didn’t want the boys to meet him just in case the plan didn’t go as expected.
He had already decided to dispatch three of his most loyal men to position themselves at the scene where the assassinations would take place. They would shot the boys as soon as they had attempted the assassinations. Gerut did not want anything to point back to himself.
As he entered the bar, he stripped off his glasses and stood for several minutes as his eyes adjusted to the dark interior. He then proceeded to a table about halfway towards a small stage. As soon as he seated himself, a petite dark-skinned girl approached him in nothing but a string bikini bottom. She smiled and attempted to sit on his lap.
“Are you in the army?” she sweetly asked.
“Get away from me,” Gerut growled.
“What’s your problem?” she shot back.
“You are,” he retorted. “I don’t like your color,” he added as an insult. John was a veteran of low end strip clubs. He knew word would quickly spread to all the girls in the club that he preferred white girls. The girl left in a huff, only to be replaced by a white cocktail waitress who took his order of a light beer.
As he waited for his beer he scanned the room. Lopez was not there yet. The lack of attention to timetables was a constant reminder why Gerut hated Latinos. To him, they were never on time. Of course, blacks were worse. His thoughts were broken by the appearance of a slender white stripper on stage. Ah, that’s better, he thought. Gerut leaned forward in his seat so that he could get a better view of her pole dance.
While he ogled the stripper on stage, the waitress delivered his ten dollar glass of unnamed tepid beer. He dutifully paid her and gave her a five dollar tip without saying a word. She produced a wide smile and appeared to nod to someone behind him. Almost immediately a light skinned female hand touched his shoulder and an attractive woman in similar attire to the pole dancer slid into the chair and nestled on his lap.
“You in the army?” she purred.
“I work for the government,” he replied grinning.
“It must be dangerous work,” she cooed. “You are so handsome and are clearly in good shape. By the way, my name is Amy.”
John Gerut had spent many nights in strip bars. He knew how to play the game. He loved to have sex with women from the low end strip clubs, as long as they were white. He looked for the most vulnerable young girls. The lower their self-esteem the better he liked them. He liked to control them and make them appreciate his rough sexual habits. He liked to force girls to satisfy his needs. It was something he had learned from several of his nannies. He would immediately become aroused whenever he thought about one nannie. Her name was Helen. The girls he found in the strip joints were substitutes for the lovely Helen. As the girl sat on his lap, she wiggled and squirmed to get his attention, Gerut relived life with Helen.
Helen had been hired by George Gerut when John was twelve years old. While John was still a youngster on the inside, he was nearly six feet tall and was broad of shoulder from working out in school gyms. She was, of course, a live-in as George was always traveling. The Gerut family had two maids and a cook. But they were all old, in their fifties and were more like grandparents then employees and could not keep up with the rambunctious, inquisitive boy, so a nannie was hired to be a companion and substitute mother. Her name was Helen. She came from a strict Norwegian family and was studying to be a doctor at Georgetown University. She was twenty-two years old and could be described as a willowy blond with pouty lips. The preadolescent John took one look at her and decided she was no substitute mother, but could be used for better things.
John soon discovered that Helen was afraid of losing her job. She worried she was not good enough to be a companion to John. He discovered her parents were always berating her and telling her she was not good enough. She had very low self-esteem. Within weeks John began to employ the lessons of power taught to him at the private schools he attended. He reminded her she could lose her job if he gave her a bad evaluation. He ridiculed her hair, the way she dressed and told her in private she had to address him as “sir”. He soon began to dictate what clothes she worn. When he complimented her dress, he noted she was happy and pliable. Within a month he entered her bedroom and demanded she must display what underwear she was going to wear that day. Soon he was standing in her bedroom and watching as she slid on her panties after he approved. She craved his approval and seemed to enjoy the sexual exploitation John demanded.
One day he said he had hurt his hand and he required her to undress him for bed. With a flushed face, she unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. By the time she started on the belt for his pants she was mad with lust. She yanked open his pants and pulled them down. John did not have on underwear. She then stood with her head bowed down. He ordered her to her knees and stood before her. She looked up at him from her kneeling position with fear in her eyes and said that she didn’t know what to do next. He told her to open her mouth as far as possible.
For two years, John controlled Helen. She became his sex slave and his taste became more deviant. On some days he would order her to go without underwear. He would grope her in public, like at the movies. He made her read books about sexual positions and techniques. He made her into his own private pornography star. It all came to a halt when one of the maids found two pairs of handcuffs in the night stand. She reported it to the horrified George Gerut, and Helen was fired without severance pay. George believed that Helen was taking advantage of an under-aged innocent boy. John was angry over the firing, but got over it when a new nannie was hired. He learned to hide his sexual toys.
His thoughts were interrupted when Amy the stripper said, “I feel something. You must want some company. I can come to your room later. I get off at 7 P.M.”
Despite a throbbing in his loins, John did not have time for her today. “Sorry, my little friend, but I’m going to be busy all day. I will come and see you tomorrow though.” He flipped her twenty dollars and a smiling Amy got off his lap and left the table.
As Gerut again scanned the room he discovered Lopez had finally showed up with his charges. He noted there were only two Mexicans and then there was a white guy. He immediately thought Lopez was trying to rip him off. The Effort had ordered three Mexican boys. Gerut now thought something was wrong. Lopez was always screwing up. The sloppiness of his organization would change when Gerut was in charge.
Lopez looked at Gerut and nodded towards the bathroom. Gerut never wanted to be seen in public with Lopez, but decided a meeting was in order. He needed to find out what was going on. Gerut got up and headed to the back of the room. He reached the bathroom and quickly scanned the toilets to make sure that no one was hiding there. He then waited for Lopez.
Lopez entered the door a few minutes later. Gerut moved in front of the door and blocked it so no one else could enter. He stood with his back leaning on the door. He pounded his fist to make sure Lopez knew that he was upset.
“You were supposed to deliver three boys, what happened?” He growled.
“A minor problem occurred during the crossing of the border,” replied a confident Lopez. “It won’t happen again.”
“So, where is the third boy?”
“Killed during the crossing,” Lopez was smug in his reply.
“How are we to implement the plan without him?”
“The white dude at the table will do the job. He works for me. You have nothing to worry about my friend.”
This only made Gerut even angrier. Lopez was not his friend and Gerut wanted to eliminate non-white people, not white people. His men were under orders to shot the boys and this meant the white kid would be shot as well. This did not settle well with him. He thought about the change and decided, in the end, Gerut would
still achieve his goals, so what if one white guy died along the way.
“They look like zombies. Are you sure they can do the job?”
“Drugs,” Lopez replied in a matter-of-fact way. “They are all good shots — learned how on the little farm their parents own for now. Soon it will belong to me.”
“I want the white guy on the mayor,” Gerut ordered.
“Why is that my friend? That is a change of plans,” Lopez asked.
“Listen Lopez you are working for me here. I don’t like to be questioned. I give the orders, you obey, is that clear?”
“Si senior,” Lopez sarcastically replied.
“Look, all battle plans go out the window once the battle starts. Get over it.”
“If you say so,” Lopez answered.
“There better not be any more screw-ups or it is your head,” Gerut spat back at the startled Lopez. He then turned and left the bar. He never heard Lopez reply that he should watch is own back.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
On his ranch in New Mexico, Randolph Sanders was getting ready to leave for the short flight to Las Vegas and the Strip. His wife, Sarah, sat in a chair by a window in their expansive bedroom. She was dressed in only a robe that barely covered her desirable body. She admired his new black suit. It was a very special new suit. It had only recently arrived from the factory in, of all places, Bogota, Columbia.
“What do you think?” Randy asked his wife as he held out his arms and turned around so that she could get a full view of the tailored suit.
“It looks just like any other three piece suit to me,” she announced. “But it looks great on you,” she quickly added.
“It better be worth the two thousand dollars it cost me,” he replied as he thumped his chest. “Ouch, that hurt,” he added.
A Dubious Terrain (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 4) Page 16