A Dubious Terrain (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 4)

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A Dubious Terrain (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 4) Page 17

by Gerald J Kubicki


  “You adorable dummy,” Sarah shot back. “It’s made to stop bullets, not fists. The impact of the bullet would probably hurt, but you won’t die.”

  “But what if the bullet is very powerful and penetrates the cloth?” a concerned Randy wondered out loud.

  “Randy, I told you the shooter will only have a small hand gun. It will be a .22 caliber. That is very low impact. These suits are made to withstand a .357 magnum bullet. That is a powerful bullet,” she calmly replied.

  “I’m still worried,” Randy pressed.

  “Look, many businessmen and even Presidents have worn these suits in public. It has a lifetime guarantee,” she said with a smile.

  “Yeah, but it is my life on the line. If I am dead, I can never collect on the guarantee,” he seriously replied.

  “You will be safe. Remember you also have Lana. She will protect you,” she answered with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “And, how is it that you know so much about bullets and guns,” he suddenly asked as he placed his hands on his hips in challenge.

  “My father had an extensive gun collection remember. He made me learn about guns and bullets from the time I could shoot. That was when I was five years old. We used to hunt together. Didn’t your father teach you about guns?”

  “The biggest gun I have ever touched was a water squirt gun,” he laughed as he pretended to take aim. “I used to fire the squirt guns at girls in tee shirts in the college dormitory. Hmm, that thought is making me hot,” he said as a lecherous smile crossed his face. He started towards his wife with lust in his eyes.

  “Slow down cowboy. We don’t have time right now. Maybe we will have time on the plane with Lana.”

  “Yes, with Lana,” Randy dreamily answered.

  “We both will be ready for you,” Sarah smiled.

  “Did you tell her how to dress?” he suddenly asked.

  “No underwear in the cabin,” Sarah replied.

  “But, what if someone notices?”

  “We are taking the family plane. It will be just the three of us and the pilot. But you must not get your suit dirty, so you will probably have to take it off.” Sarah knew exactly how to play her husband, even if he would soon not be around. Her plan was slightly different than his.

  “So what happens when we get to Las Vegas?” Randy suddenly asked. “I mean, where are we actually going?”

  “I told you, silly, the MGM hotel,” Sarah patiently replied. She knew Randy was very afraid, she needed to be strong.

  “Oh, yeah, you did mention that,” he said.

  “And you are going to be great. Just follow the plan, everything will be just fine. We have everything under control.”

  “Will the others show up? He asked. “I don’t want to be onstage by myself. We need others to show their support.”

  “The major of Las Vegas is not happy, but he will show up.”

  “Why is he not happy?”

  “Randy, Las Vegas is the center of the fight game. It brings in millions of dollars every year. He is going to be part of a protest against the very thing that brings in money for the city. You can understand can’t you?”

  “But he will attend?” Randy persisted.

  “Yes, He told me the fight was not sanctioned, but I promised him extra media coverage if he approved the license. He will show.”

  “Well, you didn’t lie. He will get extra coverage when he gets shot by one of the assassins,” he joked.

  “You are so smart,” Sarah lied.

  “Of course the extra money we paid him to approve the license probably had some impact on his decision to show.”

  “Politicians love money,” Sarah said.

  “What about that do-gooder retired governor, will he show?” Randy had known the ex-governor of California for many years. He had a reputation of being too liberal with the budget. It had cost him in the last election.

  “He is planning on making a movie comeback. This is just the spotlight he wants to get back into the game. He will put on a good performance.”

  “Lucky thing your family controls a lot of media sources,” Randy said. Randy knew Sarah’s father had been one of the founders of the Effort. He had chosen the media and marketing industry to dominate. He had been very successful and now that he was dead, Sarah was appointed the head of a media empire that included several major papers, over twenty radio stations and one of the largest internet search engines. She was not only filthy rich but also very powerful and was the backbone of the Sanders political machine.

  “All three of you will arrive at the Garden Arena at eight o’clock. The protest will start at eight fifteen. It is all arranged.”

  “We need lots of people there, the more the better. Have you taken care of that?” Randy wanted lots of people to see his performance.

  “Everything is scheduled, my dear. We even have a license to be there, again approved by the mayor. My media people say we could expect several thousand people.”

  “What about the Effort websites, will they be able to get people to the event? How many do we control?” Randy was getting more and more worked up.

  She looked at him and shook her head. “The Effort has fifty websites under various names and agendas. The news of the impromptu protest of the LDA league fight will go up within the hour. We can expect around three to four thousand to show up in front of the Garden Arena by eight fifteen tonight. That is when the fun will start. All is ready.”

  “I’m still nervous. It is my ass that will be on the line. What if something bad happens?” Randy was never good in pressure situations.

  “What could happen? Gerut will have several of his best men in the crowd. We will communicate by cellphone. They will surround the assassins and take them down as soon as they shoot. They will die immediately. The men will be given commendations for their quick work. You will be protected by Lana and your expensive suit. What could go wrong?” Sarah spread her arms indicating that she had thought of everything.

  “Are you sure that this will work?”

  “Randy, the fact that two leading political figures will be assassinated will thrust our plans into the limelight. You will survive and be viewed as a hero. I know how the American public thinks and reacts. My media network will blame illegal aliens for the assassination. They will also blame the LDA league and indirectly all Latinos for creating the mess. We will also announce that Lopez is actually involved in people smuggling and drugs. Gerut and his men have plans to take him down immediately. You will suddenly be a crusader. Our platform will be to stop illegals from existing on American soil. You will instantly become a leading candidate for the Presidency. Isn’t this what we have planned to do for all these years?”

  “Your right,” Randy said has he hung his head in shame. “It’s just that I want so much to be President. I said I would do anything, but I didn’t know it included me being shot at on purpose.”

  Sarah immediately went into a damage control mode. “Randy, you do want to be the President, don’t you?”

  “More than anything in this world,” he said with a dreamy look in his handsome face.

  “Well this is the fastest way to make that happen,” she reasoned.

  “Are you sure?” Randy said forcefully.

  “Look I have had my best marketing people working on the data for a long time. We have studied every attempted and successful assassination since 1900. In every case, the popularity of the politician has jumped dramatically after the attempt.” Sarah spouted off statistic after statistic using her perfectly polishes fingers to count off the facts.

  “Yeah, but what about the dead ones?” Randy asked.

  “Well, their popularity also grew,” she replied smugly. She didn’t want him to know she was counting on that.

  “A lot of good it will do me if I’m dead,” he screamed at her.

  “Please stop saying that. My marketing people say your chance of dying is less than fifteen percent. That is less than you walking in a ghetto.” She wa
ved her hand in dismissal.

  “Well I never walk in a ghetto,” Randy said sarcastically.

  “I might also mention the assassins cause always takes a big hit. The American public will vilify illegal aliens. Hell Randy, wars have been started because of assassins. This will thrust your face and your platform for the ‘safe party’ into the national limelight. My people will take care of the rest.”

  “But, I could be dead,” he lamented.

  Chapter Forty

  Sarah knew she had to play Randy like a fiddle. She knew he was very ambitious and did want to become the President of the United States more than anything else, except maybe a life of debauchery. She also knew he would never live long enough to complete his dream. She would be the crusading widow. She was slated to become the President. It was all for the Effort. It had been ordained by the ruling council years ago. She just had to make him attend the protest in Las Vegas at the Garden Arena. But she knew exactly how to do that.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she called out as Randy kept studying his profile. “I’m going to tell Lana that she has to be undressed before we get on the plane. Are you up for some fun?” Sarah wanted to keep Randy off balance and not allow him to think too much.

  “When will the car pick us up?” Randy now had visions of having major fun on the way to the plane.

  As Randy was fantasizing about his up-coming trip, his thoughts were interrupted by a phone ringing. Sarah reached to snatch it from the bed-stand and noted the call was coming from John Gerut. While he was part of the Effort, he, like Randy, was not council members and didn’t know the full plan. Sarah had known him all her life but distrusted Gerut. He was self-consuming and made many mistakes during his career. He was now in a powerful position as head of the quick assault force for Homeland Security and was also openly ambitious. This made him dangerous to her, but he immediately served a purpose and had to be handled with care.

  “This is Sarah,” she said into the phone.

  “Sarah, this is John. I thought Randolph would answer this phone, but I’d rather talk to you anyway,” Gerut said to charm her.

  “John, I am always happy to hear from you,” she lied. Gerut had tried to seduce her many times and she had to admit he was handsome, but there was something sleazy about John Gerut. She had always kept her distance. “We are very busy now. We are about to head for the airport. What’s it that you want?”

  “I’ll see you guys tonight, but I wanted to let you know we are completely prepared for your visit.”

  “That’s very good to hear,” she calmly replied, knowing there was going to be a shoe to drop any second.

  “There is one small change in plans, however.”

  “What change in plans?” Sarah suddenly snapped. She rolled her eyes at the now very agitated Randy.

  “It’s nothing major,” he reported. “One of the Mexicans got himself killed during the crossing last night. Lopez has replaced him with a white guy. I wasn’t happy about this as the Mexican that got killed was the guy who was to shoot Randy. So what I did was change the white guys target to the mayor. Maybe your media people can make him out to be a homosexual that is in love with a Mexican or something like that. The Mexican that will be after Randy will be fourteen years old and will miss his shot. I’m pretty sure.” Gerut said that incase Randy was listening. Sarah’s plan was actually to not miss the congressman.

  “Well we can work around that,” she replied as she began to develop a spin on the situation. “Just follow your original orders.”

  “I thought you could handle it,” he answered encouragingly.

  “I’ll get the media guys on it right away.”

  Gerut then continued, “Let me fill you in on the rest of the plans.”

  “Okay,” she answered as she watched Randy. He was becoming more nervous and was pacing the room. She realized he was contemplating backing out. Randolph Sanders was, after all, a chicken with little backbone. Sarah had to spend much of her time motivating him. She knew what she had to do right now.

  She motioned him to come close to her as Gerut rambled on about the minute details of his plan. As he reached her side, she reached out and unzipped his pants

  When Gerut asked a question, all that Sarah could reply was, “Hmm.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  John Gerut closed the cellphone and continued on his journey around Las Vegas. He left the strip club an hour ago and made his way to a dingy off-the-strip motel where several of his men had set up their headquarters. It took him an hour to cover the ten blocks to the motel because he was worried Lopez would have someone follow him and had doubled back several times to shake any watchers.

  He called his men into the tiny suite for an operations meeting. This was the last time he would communicate with most of them until after the shooting started. The first thing he did was remind the men they were on a top-secret mission for Homeland Security and they were sworn to never speak of it, even among themselves. He then talked to all the troops that would be in the crowd at the protest. He made sure each knew the Mexican boys had to die after they shot at their target. He fielded questions, but there were none. His men were professionals and would do their jobs without questions.

  He then had a private meeting with his most trusted soldier. At the meeting Gerut asked for his commitment to the cause. The soldier, Andy Krenitz, was a diehard Neo-Nazi and Gerut wanted to make sure he followed his orders. As far as Krenitz knew, Gerut was the head of the entire movement. He had no knowledge about the Effort. Gerut wanted him to keep thinking that.

  “Tonight you will be able to take a step into history,” Gerut announced.

  “Yes, I am ready,” replied Krenitz as he stood at attention.

  “This will be our own “Night of the Long Knives”. You do know about the event?” Gerut asked the soldier.

  “It was the night that Hitler, our glorious leader, disposed of all of the enemies of the state in Germany,” answered the solder.

  “That is correct.”

  “It will be my pleasure to serve this blow to our enemies this night.”

  “Good,” replied a now satisfied Gerut. “Now what is your mission?”

  “Kill Sanders,” he replied with determination in his voice.

  “Your job will be to wrestle the gun from a fourteen year old weak Mexican as soon as he points it at Randolph Sanders.”

  The soldier interrupted, “But, instead of taking the gun away from him, I must aim it for him and shoot Sanders in the head. Then kill the boy. No one will notice that I aimed and pulled the trigger, right?”

  “Yes, that is correct, but I want you to shoot both of the Sanders.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  John Gerut had two more stops to make before all was ready. He flagged down a taxi and headed to a small warehouse on Paradise road near downtown. The Taxi dropped him off near mid-town and Gerut walked the remaining blocks to the warehouse. He rapped three times on the heavy metal door and a man in a white smock opened it. Gerut entered without greeting the man by name and followed him to the back of the building where they reached another door and a room that was full of equipment and chemicals.

  There were three more of his troopers lounging on metal chairs around a table. They were playing cards, but immediately stood up at attention as Gerut entered the room. Each of the men was dressed in black short sleeve tee shirts and black jeans. They were all over six feet tall and had the physiques of hard military field operatives. Gerut gave a critical sweep of the room with his eyes and was satisfied there was no one else around. He then went to each man and shook hands. This meeting would be less formal then his usual meetings. These men were his strongest supports and completely loyal. They were his gang.

  Without preamble, he turned to the man in the smock and said, “Do you have the ingredients I requested?”

  The man had a Ph.D. in Chemistry. His name was Michael Kane. He was the owner of a small chemical company that had fallen on hard times. The business was near
bankruptcy and he had become desperate. Gerut had found the company using Homeland Security information and offered Kane a way out. Gerut told the man that Homeland Security would pay off his debts if he helped the government with a secret project. The man readily agreed and was sworn to secrecy. Gerut, of course, had no intention of paying off the debt, but Michael Kane thought he would. Kane would be dead within a few hours.

  “All the ingredients are here,” Kane said with a sweep of his hand towards a table and a large empty vat.

  Gerut headed over to the table. His men fell in behind him and formed a circle around the vat. “Let’s get started,” he said.

  “All I need is the formula,” offered Kane.

  Gerut reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small leather folder. From the folder he extracted two pieces of paper. He unfolded the pages and handed them to Kane. Ultra Top Secret was written across the tops of the pages. Kane took the papers put on his glasses and sat down at the table. He studied the formulas for about five minutes. He then looked up at Gerut.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  “Of course we do,” replied Gerut with a smirk. “We need you to mix this formula for a top secret mission, now get to it.”

  “This is a scientific break though,” Kane gushed. “The implications are tremendous.”

  “We know this already. That is why no one else must know about the formula,” Gerut answered with a measure of impatience.

  “This is just too fantastic,” Kane muttered as he made his way to the table and the ingredients. This will take me about an hour to mix,” he said to no one in particular as he began to pour chemicals into the vat.

  Gerut and his three men stood around the chemist as he mixed a batch of the formula. They all knew to not speak. Secrecy was the hallmark of the gang. Everyone was impatient to see the results of the chemistry.

  After about an hour of Michael Kane mixing the batch with a large metal spoon, he looked up at Gerut and said, “I think that it is ready.”

 

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