by Steve Richer
“A shadow government,” Rogan breathed out, remembering CIA man Dickie Joseph and what he had told him before getting killed.
“No, much more elaborate than a shadow government. You see, it’s nothing official but there’s a special cadre of people running the entire world as we speak.”
“The Illuminati?”
Hephner chuckled as if he heard that comment ten times a day. “We don’t have a name.”
“The Trilateral Commission? The Bilderberg Group? The Council on Foreign whatever that Angelina Jolie is in?”
“No, some of these are merely offshoots or tangential organizations. They don’t have a fraction of the power and authority that we do.”
“And what do you do?”
“We run the world, Bricks. We decide when wars are fought, we decide who wins. We build economies, we destroy them.”
“You destroy democracies.”
“No, we preserve lives. Do you know that this is the safest the world has been in a thousand years? You’ll have the media try and scare you with the carjacking of the day but the truth is, because of us people are more prosperous than ever. Proportionally, fewer kids die in wars than ever before in history.”
“You can stop the sales pitch, you’re not getting my $10 membership fee.”
“We know that,” he said. “We’ve known that for over five years. You had the perfect profile to join our ranks and that’s why we sent Shiloh in to assess you. But you know what she said? She said you were too nice to get your hands dirty.”
“My hands are already dirty. I’ve been trying to clean them for 20 years.”
Rogan thought about the man he had left burning to death in that plane when he was a teenager. He had effectively killed the man for money and he’d never be able to forgive himself for that.
“We know about that too,” the FBI Director said.
Rogan’s head snapped up toward Shiloh who nodded.
“The diamonds you gave away when you were a kid, it’s what led us to you. We’ve known about the source of your fortune for a long time. And then it was simply a matter of connecting you to your town and that mysterious plane crash. Of course, we also knew about the Juarez cartel transiting through El Paso County. It wasn’t hard to do the equation.”
“I don’t suppose all of this has been a ploy to arrest me? Maybe you’d like me to confess now?”
“Don’t be stupid, Bricks. We’d still very much like to have you join us.”
“Sorry, world domination has never been a career goal of mine.” He stood up and went closer to the fireplace. Maybe that’s how it felt like in hell. “So who are these people apparently running the world?”
“As you might understand, I won’t name names. But it’s a select faction of politicians from around the globe, prominent financial tycoons, military leaders, even a few popular artists you would recognize. There are exactly 100 of us, never more, never less. Then we have a few connected people and employees to handle more sensitive matters. A core group of 25 handles the decision-making process with the others voting when necessary. These 25 are rotated out every year. It’s very democratic, all things considered.”
“And you guys get your rocks off crushing regimes and making money out of it.”
Hephner shook his head. “The faction has been around since after World War I but it was very informal at the time, like old frat brothers keeping in touch. But after World War II, after that carnage and the invention of the atomic bomb, it was decided that we couldn’t stay on the sidelines anymore.”
“Isn’t that why they set up the United Nations?”
“Some of our members didn’t have faith in that organization. They thought it was so desperate to appease everyone that nothing would ever get done. So the faction began to be more proactive. It was pretty selfless at first, noble minded. Some hotheads in the US and in the Soviet Union were keen to start a decisive war, a conflict that would have without a doubt annihilated the world’s population. It was through our intervention that we moved the pawns to establish proxy wars instead.”
Rogan snorted. “So you’re the guys responsible for Korea, Vietnam? Awesome, thanks.”
“Yes, these were terrible, but we saved millions of lives in the process.”
“Congratulations, you guys are saintly superheroes. So what’s the problem?”
“There’s a division among us, Bricks. Like I said before, aside from a few regional conflicts the world is essentially at peace. Idle hands are the devil’s playground. Some of our members have become greedy, using their power for personal gain.”
“Aren’t you are rich and powerful already?”
“Not necessarily.”
“What does the man with a billion dollars want, Rogan?” Shiloh asked. “Another billion. It’s human nature.”
Rogan couldn’t deny that.
“Aside from sharing goals and contacts, we have no common enterprise. I only make $180,000, my government salary. A friend of mine is the CEO of a bank in the Middle East, he makes how many millions his job entitles him to. I have another friend, the curator of a museum in France, he makes peanuts. It’s our network that is the strength. It’s doing the right thing that is important to us.”
“Except that some people are beginning to take advantage of the faction for themselves.”
“Exactly.”
“Who?” Rogan asked.
“We don’t know.”
Rogan turned around and faced them again. “Come on! You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t know.”
“We only have suspicions.”
“Fine, now let’s play a game, shall we?” Rogan began. “Let’s play a game where you guys finally tell me how this involves me.”
The Director nodded. “Okay.”
Chapter 33
The Director of the FBI went to the bathroom and when he came back he refilled his coffee. Shiloh took the opportunity to put out a package of cookies which Rogan dove into in spite of his waffles.
“I don’t wish prostate problems on anyone,” Hephner said as he sat down.
“I’m in luck then,” Shiloh replied with a smile.
Rogan finished his cookie. “Who pays her salary? Is she a part of the 100?”
“No,” the old man said, shaking his head. “We have some contractors, others are more on a permanent basis.”
“And who pays? You said earlier this wasn’t a common enterprise so somebody has to shell out some money for all this. I don’t expect the kind of assassins who’ve come after me to be the bargain basement type.”
“When they die, members are expected to bequeath 5% of their estate to the faction. We have a seemingly innocent foundation acting as a front. There is a committee among us in charge of expenditures.”
“How responsible of you. So how about someone tells me why I’m here. No bullshit this time.”
“It’s like I told you before,” Hephner began. “I needed a clean agent I knew for certain wasn’t part of the faction. Bonus points because we had dirt on you. If you decided to not play ball, we would’ve been able to make you.”
Rogan snorted. “That worked out wonderfully.”
“Yeah, we kind of hit a snag.”
“Are you talking about people trying to kill me? Because I’d like to talk about these people trying to kill me.” Shiloh and the Director glanced at each other. “Is there something you don’t wanna tell me?”
“We don’t know who is doing this, who’s interfering.”
“Give it a shot,” Rogan said as he came back to the couch.
“We think it’s because you were getting too close to the truth,” Shiloh said softly.
“I already gathered this much. Can you enlighten me with some details?”
“You’re wealthy, Bricks. You have more money than a lot of people in the faction.”
“So?”
“So that makes you dangerous. You’re unpredictable, you’re a loose cannon.”
“Oh please…”
“To these people you are a loose cannon,” Hephner said, nodding. “Think about it, you don’t need anyone, you’re independent. This makes people nervous. Having leverage is a very important tool.”
“Okay, fine. But whatever happened to just having me reassigned? Your buddies could have gone to you and asked to get somebody else on the case. There’s no need to throw me out of a perfectly good airplane. And by the way, I would seriously question employing Albert. He’s the one who brought me to those killers.”
Hephner nodded again. “I’ve suspected him for a while. You know how it is, keep your friends close but your enemies closer.”
“Very reassuring.”
Rogan leaned back into the couch and crossed his arms.
“To answer your question, it wasn’t only about keeping you from investigating. It was about sending a message.”
“I like e-mail myself.”
The FBI Director ignored the comment. “It was the rogue clique within our faction sending a message not to screw with them. With you dead, it would have made some people understand that they should just keep their mouths shut and do as they’re told.”
“Awesome, I’m a message.” He grabbed another cookie and popped it whole into his mouth. “Can somebody enlighten me about Cass? She’s obviously on the wrong side of things, maybe she doesn’t know she’s on the wrong side.”
“Trust me,” Shiloh said. “She knows. She slept with you, pulled a gun on us. She knows.”
Rogan still wasn’t convinced about that. He had slept with her, had spent time with her, and it was hard to believe that she was with these bad guys after all.
“Okay, she’s a criminal, whatever. Riddle me this: we were by ourselves for like a whole day. Maybe more, time is getting fuzzy. Why didn’t she off me then? She’s had ample opportunities.”
He had a vision of being in the same bed with her and drifting off. Why didn’t she kill him in his sleep? The thought was chilling.
“They had tried to kill you what, two or three times by then? They reviewed their tactics.” Shiloh was confident as she spoke. “I would wager her orders were to follow you, see if you were being controlled by the other side in the faction. She wanted to follow you until she got more information. That’s how I would have done it.”
“Is that right? You’ve done this sort of thing before?”
“I have done many things, Rogan.”
The older man said, “Information is our most valuable asset. It’s how we operate, it’s how we’ve kept on top of things for so long. It’s reasonable to think she was tailing you.”
“You mean to say that the shootout in Georgetown last night was fake?”
“Well, that’s most likely when their plans shifted. They tried to kill you, purposely avoiding shooting each other for the show, and when you escaped she was ordered to keep an eye on you instead.”
“This is crazy,” Rogan whispered before drinking the rest of his coffee.
“Did she at any point go to the loo?”
“Sure.”
“Perfect opportunity to contact her people.”
Rogan exhaled. “This looks like a perfect time for me to go back to Alaska.”
“On the contrary,” Hephner replied. “It’s time to apply some pressure.”
“Some pressure? Are you out of your fucking mind? Your faction, this other group? They have the pressure market cornered, okay? They know me and they apparently don’t like me very much. There’s not a whole lot I can do anymore.”
“You can still run the investigation – do your very own investigation.”
“Right, with half the US government after me on top of all these mercenaries. They are mercenaries, yes? They’re not part of the CIA or anything, are they?”
“Yes, they’re private military contractors, definitely not connected to the government. They wouldn’t use official covert ops personnel for a domestic operation. In any case, you were never tracked by the FBI. As soon as your plane blew up I made sure that you wouldn’t even be considered a person of interest. Special Agent Carranza just pretended you were a wanted man to keep you under her thumb.”
“Bitch.”
“So I want you to keep digging. We don’t know why the President killed his wife, that’s still very much a mystery and we have to find out why.”
“I guess the President was a member of the faction?”
“Yes, has been since he was a senator. So you need to discover why he murdered his wife on TV and which faction members put him up to it.”
Rogan started to agree but instead said, “Couldn’t you just ask him yourself? You’re both members, you must have a secret handshake and everything.”
“Appearances, remember? I can’t just waltz in the interrogation room, especially since I’m a political appointee. No, I have faith in you, Special Agent Bricks.”
Rogan filled them in on the President having his daughter kidnapped. This explained the shooting itself but not necessarily the kidnapping. The mystery was ongoing.
The old man stood up and from the pocket of his jacket he retrieved an evidence bag and handed it to Rogan.
“For me? You shouldn’t have! You’re gonna spoil me rotten.”
Rogan looked into it and found the wallet he had left behind at Gerald Butrymowicz’s home along with his FBI credentials.
“Don’t say I never did anything for you. Should help you look more official. Ms. Kappas will assist and provide you with a sidearm.”
This was real, he really was going back into the line of fire to finish this.
Chapter 34
Rogan had one of the most satisfactory pisses of his life – all that coffee had really done a number on him – and now they were on the road. He was driving the Ford which Shiloh insisted had been stripped of any GPS locators and they were on their way to Fredericksburg.
“Mind if I change the station?” he asked.
“That’s right, you’ve never been much into talk radio.”
“There’s way too much talking in the world, sweetheart.”
And with that, he turned the knob and found a classic rock station. AC/DC was launching into the first licks of Back in Black and he couldn’t help bob his head along. It was scientifically impossible not to.
“I think somebody had a wee bit too much coffee this morning.”
“You practically mainlined it into me. But it worked, I’m bright eyed and bushy tailed.”
“Splendid.”
Rogan continued swaying to the music, occasionally mouthing the lyrics he remembered. He glanced sideways at the woman next to him. It was hard to believe that she had once been his wife. She was so different, possibly even more beautiful than he remembered, but different all the same. Hell, she was a different nationality altogether!
“I’m having trouble getting used to this, Victo… Shiloh. Hearing you speak like you’re a character from Downton Abbey is definitely unsettling.”
“Would you rather I spoke with that down-to-earth Midwestern accent from before?” She smiled and did just that.
His heart skipped a beat, she sounded exactly like before and it blew his mind.
“Please don’t do that,” he said. “That’s five tons of crazy in a one-ton car.”
“Sure.”
He had a vision of spending a lazy Sunday in Park City with her at his arm, pretending they were alone in the world. He remembered every time they did that they ended up renting a hotel room and spending the night under the bed sheets, and not sleeping a wink.
“How did you wind up working for the faction anyway? I mean, do they have ads in the papers or something?”
“I was MI6.”
Rogan was gobsmacked. “British intelligence, really?”
“Briefly. Went to Oxford where they spotted me just a year in. Normally, they wait until you finish your studies to formally recruit you. Not to be immodest but they had a shortage of young, pretty operatives so once I accepted the challenge I went through SIS training.”
>
“I was married to James Bond and I never knew it…”
“That was the whole point. Anyway, after four years in the service and a particularly nasty incident in the West Bank where my superiors displayed utter incompetence, I joined the private sector.”
“What kind of private sector?”
“Corporate security, consulting mostly. I was involved in some K and R operations, delivering ransoms and supervising hostage exchanges, that sort of thing. Then I was given more and more solo missions.”
“For the faction.”
She cocked her head and looked at him. “It wasn’t as sinister as it sounds. For the most part I had to talk to people, convince them it was in their best interest to do so and so. That’s what I was doing before and after the little episode between you and me.”
“That little episode? It’s called a marriage.”
“I truly did love you, Rogan. I couldn’t stay with you and put your life in danger.”
“You didn’t really love me. If you had, you would have told me the truth.”
“Rogan…”
“We could have disappeared together, Shiloh. Especially now that I know that you knew about my past, we could have vanished on the other side of the world. Only you chose to listen to your boss instead of the man you loved. Allegedly loved.”
She stared at him for a few more seconds but didn’t say a word. He was telling the truth and she knew it.
After long minutes she said, “I’m sorry.”
Now it was his turn to keep silent. He longed to turn back time, to get things back like they used to be, but he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of breaking first. It was petty of him but it was all he had.
It was the weekend now, Rogan was pretty sure, and traffic was light getting into the city. He remembered the directions he had looked up beforehand and plotted a course toward Blooming Sunflower Home, the long-term care facility where the President’s illegitimate daughter lived.
“Shiloh, I have to ask you something.”
“This is the morning of sharing secrets after all.”
“I have to ask, because it’s been driving me insane.”