Global Conspiracy

by David Shomron

  “Academically, you are right. But poverty and power are not the only issues there. Wouldn’t you say that they are also attempting to expand this power of theirs outside their countries?”

  “And who is to stop them,” Lemke said angrily. “The United Nations? They are all talk, talk, talk, and their ‘peace-keeping forces’ are a joke. The United States? The EU? NATO? Come on, Patrick! You know as well as I do that they are political cripples, no spine, no guts, no balls. They have the power but behave like impotents.”

  “So what do you think can be done against the dictators?” probed the admiral.

  “Destroy them of course!” Lemke noticed he had raised his voice, so he leaned toward the admiral and tried to speak normally, but his eyes gleamed just as vehemently as before. “Send in private commandos, vigilantes, mercenaries, whatever—and rip their regimes apart!”

  “But outside the Western governments do you know of any entity that can actually perform these acts?”

  “Of course not,” Lemke replied bitterly. “There aren’t any. If only there were.”

  “If you found out that such an organization does exist, would you consider joining it? I don’t mean actually marching through the forests with the commandos.” Admiral Stone laughed lightly. “I mean by using your expertise and the facilities at your command. Personally, I would think—”

  “Let me tell you something in the strictest of confidence, Patrick. In my private laboratory, I have already developed substances that could be very damaging to these nasty regimes. I am now at the stage where I need to find somewhere to experiment with these materials, and that isn’t so easy. However, I am planning….”

  “But if you had the opportunity and the location to test your … experiment, supplied by some organization, would you be willing to cooperate with it?”

  Inwardly the admiral was shuddering. It wasn’t so long ago that German chemists had experimented and had found a very effective way to annihilate millions of people.

  “Yes, of course I would. Why? You don’t believe I can go through with this?”

  “Never occurred to me, my friend. I know you to be a man of integrity. But please explain to me—what does this substance of yours actually do?”

  Lemke edged closer to the admiral and lowered his voice to a whisper.

  “It looks like fertilizer and it is used the same way. It is packaged in a sealed bag, and the moment the bag is opened it starts working. The stuff is spread over an area, and for approximately eight hours it emits a certain gas. This gas is harmless to living organisms, but it has a peculiar reaction to internal combustion engines when sucked in through the carburetor. The engines simply die. They become totally useless. Think of what can be done with this. A car, a truck, a tank, even a whole convoy could be put out of commission.”

  Bingo!

  The admiral was dumbfounded. He had not expected this kind of luck so quickly. He imagined himself reporting to Anne, and quickly guessed her response.

  “How certain are you about that ‘harmless business,’ Gustav?”

  “The gas has no effect whatsoever on living matter, I guarantee. Only when mixed with petroleum-derived fuel fumes, and then it only neutralizes its combustibility.” Lemke grinned, showing yellow-stained teeth. “Mein Gott, I have been breathing this stuff for two years already, and all it has done is to make me slimmer….”

  The admiral made a great show of measuring the German’s corpulent form with his eyes.

  “You would make an ideal ‘after’ picture.” And they both burst out laughing.

  Admiral Stone ordered two schnapps. “Gustav, old chap, prepare yourself for some very interesting news.”

  Half an hour later the German industrialist was recruited. They arranged the methods of communication between themselves and parted with a vigorous handshake.

  The admiral had no idea how Lemke’s experiments could be carried out. He had never expected to actually have a workable product to deal with, and he certainly could not have foreseen what that product was.

  But that issue could be tackled later. Right now he was deliberating between flying home to Brighton and taking the train to Paris to inform Anne.

  EIGHT

  Anne continued to conduct a normal life. She occupied herself by preparing tomorrow’s lecture, having a light meal, and watching television, mainly the news. This evening she was entertaining her friend.

  Since her husband’s death five years ago, she hadn’t developed an intimate relationship with a man. There were many men around her, to be sure—some young, some older, intellectuals, administrators, and even tycoons she had met through Raoul’s military and diplomatic careers. She socialized with a few of them but nothing more ensued. She wasn’t interested in a relationship and quickly rebuffed any advances made in her direction. Gilbert was the latest of her very few attempts, and it only convinced her more than ever that solitude was best for her. She kept a proper and respectful attitude toward women. She avoided gossip and personal involvement of any kind.

  Tanya Gerard was the only one close friend she had. She could discuss any topic with her and they gave and took advice from each other. She had known Tanya some time before she and Raoul were married. In fact, according to prevailing norms, the two women should have been enemies, as Tanya had been Raoul’s inamorata when Anne was introduced to him.

  At that time, Tanya worked on stage as an actress in the evenings, and during the daytime she studied theatrical arts—acting and stage directing—at the university. Raoul was then a young and ambitious officer who dedicated all his time to the army, trying to attend all the additional training and seminars available and volunteering for every exercise and maneuver he could find. Usually, when Raoul had a free moment, Tanya was busy, and vice versa. Such a relationship could not endure for long.

  Anne, on the other hand, was a bookworm and never went anywhere. Whenever Raoul had a rare free evening, Anne was always available. Tanya saw at once that it was a lost battle where Raoul was concerned, since she wasn’t prepared to give up even one minute of the time she allocated to the theatre. So, no ill feelings were nurtured toward Anne—on the contrary, they found a lot in common and became fast friends. Their friendship grew even stronger after Raoul’s death.

  Tanya now dedicated her life to the theatre. She flirted and had affairs with almost every man she met and never gave a thought to marriage or raising a family, even though she realized she was not getting any younger. In her opinion, the theatre and a family were two conflicting concepts. A decision had to be made, and she had chosen. Her reputation grew, and she became the darling of Paris. Fans and admirers—including many respectable members of the Parisian elite—flocked to the stage door, and sent her invitations, flowers, and presents. They all fell under her spell—authors and playwrights, of course, but also musicians, professors and wealthy industrialists. And Tanya did not hesitate to pick her lovers from among them—their marital status being of no concern to her.

  Because of her bohemian lifestyle, she and Anne couldn’t meet as often as they would have liked, but whenever the opportunity availed itself they would spend a few hours together chatting, or just have a café crème at a bar.

  It never crossed Anne’s mind to mention her new clandestine activities to her closest friend. Even if she had not been bound to the utmost secrecy, Tanya just wasn’t the type with which to discuss such issues. She belonged to another world, a different species of humanity, it would seem. Although Anne did not have any boyfriends, she was keenly interested in Tanya’s amorous affairs, and listened attentively to all her friend’s exploits. None of them, however, stimulated her enough to change her attitude toward intimacy with a man.

  They were sitting on the sofa in Anne’s flat. It was one of those rare occasions when Tanya could afford the time. Coffee and cookies were on the table. Anne was always impressed by her friend’s beauty, an animal magnetism enhanced by fiery-red shoulder-length hair, a tiny waist and an ample bosom that she alw
ays kept almost completely exposed. A golden hand-shaped amulet rested in that glorious cleavage, and Anne noticed it for the first time.

  “Is that a good luck charm you’re wearing?” asked Anne. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Mais oui, ma petite,” gushed Tanya in her rich contralto. “I got this one last week from a lover. He happens to be an Englishman, a retired senior army officer, or so he says. He got it somewhere in the Middle East. It’s supposed to ward off the evil eye.”

  “You just keep wearing it there and you’ll get more eyes on you than you bargained for.” Anne and Tanya laughed. “Curious design, though. A hand with two thumbs….”

  “Who cares!” Tanya scoffed. “It reminds me of him. I see him now and then when he’s in Paris, which isn’t very often. What a man! I swear, he makes love like … like a bear. He’s so strong he sometimes makes me cry out.”

  “I hope he isn’t too violent with you,” Anne said. “Does he beat you?”

  “He wouldn’t dare,” Tanya replied. “But he is brutal in a loving kind of way. And I like it a bit rough, you know that. But we never overdo it.”

  “Go on, Tanya! You’re no midget. I’ll bet you give him a bruise or two yourself.”

  Tanya put on her dreamy look, the one she used when she remembered a particularly wild spree with a man.

  “Ma pauvre Annie,” she murmured. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand. It isn’t a fight. It’s … it’s passion! It’s satisfying yourself and satisfying your man. Even animals don’t have that kind of concern for each other—they don’t have sex for pleasure as we do, just the natural instinct to procreate. Oh, you’re too conservative, Annie, you wouldn’t understand. Raoul was too gentle with you.”

  Anne wasn’t offended. She didn’t mind being constantly reminded by Tanya what she was missing, and this wasn’t the first, and probably not the last time she had referred to Raoul. She bit into a cookie.

  “Now tell me about your latest play, Tanya.”

  Tanya’s eyes sparkled.

  “It’s not the play. I’ve just been invited to direct Molière’s Le Misanthrope at the People’s Theatre in Moscow. What do you think of that?”

  “Why, Tanya, that’s wonderful! Didn’t you always say you wanted to be recognized abroad? Here’s your chance.”

  “I really can’t go into every detail right now, Annie. I’ve got to be home in an hour—Lucien is expecting me and I just hate to keep him waiting. But here’s the conflict I’m in, and I need your advice. On one hand this is my big opportunity, as you have said. On the other hand, Paris is my home and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in the world—I thought I’d mention that in case they offer me to stay there.” The grin again. “In Moscow I’d have perfect freedom to work as I please—that would be really fantastic. But I’d be severing all my ties here in Paris, and when I return, who knows what I’ll find. And I’ll be a year or more older, too, remember. Here in Paris I have the lifestyle that I cannot live without.”

  “You don’t speak Russian, do you?”

  “I do, just a little, but they promised me a translator at all times.” Tanya giggled. “My grandmother—you know she was a Russian émigré—used to converse with me in Russian. So although the text in my hand will be in French, I’ll understand what the actors are saying.”

  Anne entertained a nasty thought. She could encourage Tanya to consent to the invitation, and then she would have one less obstacle to maneuver herself around regarding her new role. That way she’d need to invent less lies. But decency overcame selfishness.

  “Have another coffee, Tanya?” Tanya shook her head. “Listen, this is totally up to you—it’s your life, after all. I won’t try to influence you in any way. But what I can do is tell you how I would react. Have you ever been to Russia?”

  “No.”

  “Neither have I. But this is a fantastic opportunity to visit a huge and fascinating country. The boost to your reputation is also a considerable factor to consider. If I had been offered to lecture for a year in Moscow I would probably be facing the same dilemma you are now. Why? It’s hard to say. I also feel my heart is here, even though I’m not French-born like you. But I married a Frenchman and that changed my life. Now my whole world is here—my work and my best friend. So I might have rejected the lecture offer. Now you tell me, dear Tanya, would you have advised me to go?”

  Tanya was staring silently at Anne. Abruptly she shook herself and said, “I think I’ll have a whisky on the rocks now, Annie.”

  “Of course,” Anne said and got up to prepare the drink.

  The phone rang. Anne excused herself and answered it.

  “Anne?” It was Admiral Stone, and he sounded excited. “Can you talk?”

  “I have company right now,” Anne replied testily.

  “I understand. Just take care of what you say, okay?”

  “All right.”

  “Could you possibly free yourself and see me? I have something very important to tell you, and it’s not for the phone.”

  Oh, hell! Anne thought. I get to see Tanya so infrequently and now I have to give that up, too. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to miss that opportunity,” she said into the phone, glancing toward Tanya. “Where are you now?”

  “Excellent, Anne, excellent. Your guest is probably getting the impression that you have to leave. I’ll come to your flat in half an hour. Okay?”

  “Well, that doesn’t leave me much time, does it? Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?”

  “Well done, Anne. Now you’re giving it a sense of urgency. See you soon.” The admiral hung up.

  Anne finished preparing Tanya’s drink. She returned to Tanya and was surprised to see her putting on her jacket. She walked up to Anne and hugged her.

  “Thank you so much, Annie. I’ve decided—I’m not going to Russia!”

  “What … but—”

  “No reconsideration,” Tanya said firmly. “I have to give my answer tomorrow. Annie, you have helped me make up my mind. Now I have to go and you have a date.” She gave another mischievous grin. “You’re off to see someone. Good for you. And this time you will tell me all about him! Bien—I wouldn’t want my tall, blond and awesome-looking Lucien to think I was standing him up. He’s a nervous and impatient twenty-year-old student, hung like a horse, and I’ll tell you all about him next time.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong, Tanya,” Anne protested. “It’s an old friend of Raoul’s. He’s between trains….”

  “Knock it off, Annie, ma chérie—I know all of Raoul’s old friends, remember?” She opened the door and winked at Anne. “Have a fabulous time. Ciao!”

  Half an hour later Admiral Stone arrived.

  “I came directly from the Gare Du Nord,” he said. “You won’t believe the international hopping I’ve been through today. First Amsterdam, then Hamburg, and now Paris. I’m exhausted.”

  “My sympathies,” Anne said, with a hint of irritation. “What did you wish to tell me that was so urgent?”

  “I’m terribly sorry, Anne—I didn’t mean to spoil your plans. But after you hear what I have to relate, perhaps you’ll think it was worth your while. Do you think I could have a drink?” The admiral sat down heavily on the sofa.

  Anne realized with a start that she had been very inhospitable.

  “My goodness, Admiral, I do apologize. Whisky, tea, coffee?”

  “Whisky will do fine, Anne, thank you.” He waited for Anne to pour drinks for them both before continuing.

  “I have met with the two candidate recruits I mentioned at our last meeting. We can scratch Jef van Welde, the physicist—he won’t do at all. But Gustav Lemke is quite another story.” He reported what happened over dinner in Hamburg.

  “So you see, Anne, we have a ‘product’! It’s supposed to do exactly what we hoped, it’s safe, and its effectiveness is until about eight hours after deployment. We are on the threshold of a breakthrough. Lemke cannot test his stuff at his plant without arousing su
spicion. I told him we’d take care of that.”

  Anne was stunned. Such a huge step in so short time was impressive indeed.

  “We’re moving from wishful thinking into action,” she said. “I think we’ll need someone who will be capable of conducting experiments of this kind in the field, as it were.”

  “You mean like an Operations Executive?”

  “Well, I suppose that would depend on how involved he or she would be in the actual participation in our final operations. If so, he would need to be recruited into our management board. That would make us four instead of three. How does that sound to you?”

  What an amazing woman, thought the admiral. She’s already two steps ahead. Of course, none of us could physically conduct these experiments, no matter where they were supposed to take place.

  “You’re right,” he said. “We’ll need to have a board meeting as soon as possible. I’m off to London now, and I’ll inform Cedric as soon as I arrive—and I don’t care how late it’ll be.”

  He gulped down the rest of his whisky, waved goodbye and marched through the door.

  NINE

  Alfred Boulanger was a tall, thin man in his early sixties. His closely shaved head, green eyes, and hooked nose gave him an owl-like appearance. As owner and CEO—his official French title was President Directeur Général, or PDG for short—of Satellimonde, one of the most profitable conglomerates in designing, building, and launching of commercial satellites, his appearance was always at the height of elegance and his manner full of self-confidence. He lived with his family in a château about twenty kilometers southeast of Paris, but he spent most of his time at his office in the capital.