A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10)

by Gerald Kubicki

  “I’m only here to offer you my condolences and to help you, Michael,” Bernard said in a calm voice.

  “I’m not sure I want any company,” Michael replied defensively.

  “I truly understand,” Bernard said sadly. “You see, the loss of your mother was my loss too. But I have only a little time to spare. I can answer all your questions as well.”

  “Alright come in. Let’s hear what you have to say,” the captain said wearily. He was more curious than anything else. He waved the two men into the house and headed towards the dark living room. He had trouble finding the wall switch to turn on a lamp, but Aldo silently stepped forward and went directly to the device and turned it on. Clearly he has been in this house before, Captain Meyers thought.

  “Aldo, supply my son with the documents, would you please,” Bernard ordered as he settled in a soft chair. Captain Meyers took a spot on the old couch across the coffee table from Bernard and started reading. Aldo stood behind Bernard. After a few minutes Captain Meyers looked up.

  “These all look legal, but they could be forged,” he reasoned.

  “Did you read the letter in your mother’s handwriting?”

  “She says you were married to another woman but offered to leave your wife for her,” he recounted sadly.

  “Yes, that is true,” Bernard said nodding his head. “After all she produced a child for me, when my wife could not.”

  “Why would my mother refuse to be married to you?” Michael Meyer asked the smiling man across from him.

  “She was dedicated to a cause. Her personal life did not matter to her,” Bernard explained.

  “I’m well aware of that,” the Navy man shot back.

  “It is a cause I also believe in completely and one I hope you will embrace too.”

  “What cause are you talking about? My mother was not very committed to anything,” Captain Meyers blustered. Including raising me, he thought.

  “Oh, but she did truly believe in a just cause, Captain,” Bernard corrected him. “She and I along with many others only seek to make America a better place to live,” Bernard calmly added. After a pause he continued. “For White people,” he delicately said.

  “I never knew,” Meyers replied.

  “Do you believe in our cause?” Bernard asked. He then sat back to observe his son’s reaction. This was the key question for the interview. The fate of Captain Michael Meyers would be determined by how he answered the question. Aldo subtly moved to the side for a clean shot if needed.

  Captain Meyers was stunned by the old man’s response. He had long thought America needed a cleansing. Over his career, he had run across people who thought the same way, but he never met anyone who was actively pursuing the goal.

  “That sounds like you are a White Supremacist,” he challenged.

  “Oh, please,” Bernard said as he waved his hand. “That is so old school. We are much more sophisticated today. Mostly we seek change from within the system. Our tentacles run deep. We have people placed in very high positions and control almost all vital industries in America. We have been building our network since the 1930’s. Someday, we will pounce and will take what is rightfully ours.”

  “So, what do you call yourselves then?”

  “Our organization is called The Effort.”

  “I never heard of it,” Captain Meyers responded and shook his head.

  “That is the point,” Bernard announced as he pointed to the ceiling. “It is a very secret organization. And we want you to be part of it.”

  “I’m no spy,” Captain Meyers yelled.

  “No one is asking you to spy. You will be more of a ‘sleeper agent’.”

  “I found some very suspicious file folders in my mother’s desk. She was a spy,” Captain Meyers started, but was cut off.

  “I know, I left them there for you to find,” Bernard said. “So, we could have some common ground for our discussion.”

  “What do you mean?” the captain responded heatedly.

  “Your mother worked for me.”

  “For how long?”

  “Since she came to America in nineteen forty-four,” Bernard retorted. “We were at that time working for the Nazis, but they eventually went away. We have also done work for the Russians and some other people. But all the information we collected has also gone to the Effort. The Effort was always my true employer.”

  “What is it that you want from me, dad?” Captain Meyers said sarcastically.

  “I want to welcome you into the Effort,” Bernard responded.

  “I’m not a joiner,” Captain Meyers said distastefully.

  “Oh, but you are already a part of us,” Bernard mysteriously replied.

  “What, how?” Captain Meyers screamed.

  “Michael,” Bernard said softly. “Did you ever consider why you never had a police record when you were young? How do you think you got into Annapolis? And how do you think you were commissioned as a Captain of a ship so quickly? You were not inline for the promotion.”

  “You?” Captain Meyers replied in a shocked incredulous voice. He thought he was incredibly lucky during his career. He had been in trouble several times, but the records always seemed to get lost or expunged. Likewise, he seemed to get promoted without having to put forward hardly any effort. He never considered that someone was watching over him — let alone someone who said he was his father.

  Bernard nodded his head. “I have protected you and advanced your career,” he proudly stated.

  “But why?”

  “We have been grooming you for a very special position, my son.”

  “To do what?” Captain Meyers felt that he was in a living nightmare. Everything he thought to be true was a hoax. The old man in front of him had manipulated him and his surroundings since the day he was born, and he didn’t even realize it.

  “Our long term plan to take over America politically will not happen for many years yet. But we need to be ready. We must plan for the future. You are part of that plan.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Captain Meyers blustered. He stood and threw up his arms in frustration. “You just walk into my mother’s house on the day we bury her and announce you’re my father. Then you attempt to recruit me into some clandestine organization. Are you nuts?”

  Ignoring the insult, Bernard explained. “You are being groomed to be the Supreme Leader of the American people. Dictator if you prefer. You will be given the ability to make sweeping changes and make America into a haven for white people.”

  “Me, the Supreme Leader?” Captain Meyers repeated as he pointed to himself.

  “We have it in our powers to keep promoting you. We intend to make you the highest ranking military officer on record. When the crisis comes, you will be the one to implement martial law and guide the country. We, of course, will provide the crisis.”

  “But I’m not spy material,” the captain replied.

  “We don’t want you to do anything to jeopardize our mission; that includes spying. You will have no contact with any other Effort member but me. I am your father, after all.”

  “And I don’t have to do anything but continue my military career?” Captain Meyers inquired as the information sunk in.

  “Your successful military career,” Bernard grinned. He now knew his son would accept the position.

  “Tell me more?”

  That evening, Michael Meyers became a member of the Effort. As time went by, he did exactly what his father wanted.

  Chapter Forty-One

  T

  wenty years had gone by quickly for Michael Meyers. He no longer was a ship’s Captain and he no longer traveled the seven seas. He was now based in Washington, D.C., at the Pentagon. Three years ago, he obtained the highest position in the Navy and held the post of VCJCS (Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff).

  He was the second highest ranking military officer in the U.S. Armed Forces. In two more years he would become the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (
CJCS). Bernard had made it all happen, just as promised, but recently told him that he would never be the Chairman. The time to strike was now.

  While the Joint Chiefs of Staff is the highest positions a military lifer could obtain, they do not have any operational command responsibilities. They mostly serve as advisors to the President. The chain of command for the Armed Forces starts with the Commander in Chief, the President. It flows next to the Secretary of Defense and then the military is divided up into areas of responsibility or functions. They are called Unified Combatant Commands (UCC). There are nine of them in the world, each with their own Combatant Commander (CCDR) — they control all the armed forces in their sector.

  Vice Admiral Michael Meyers also held one of those commands in addition to his Joint Chiefs of Staff position. He was the Combatant Commander for USNORTHCOM, The United States Northern Command. All the military forces for the entire continent of North America fell under his command. In a crisis, he would be the one to implement martial law in America. It was as if he had planned it that way.

  Meyers sat in his well-appointed office and opened the package sent by his father. It had cleared security, marked as medicine. The Admiral had gone to the post station located in the large Pentagon building to pick it up. He claimed he had a sore throat and the medicine had been messengered over from his drug store. Vice Admiral Meyers had grinned as he carried the box back to his office. He knew better. It wasn’t medicine. It was the start of his rise to the position of dictator.

  The box contained two things, a letter and a small pump-spray container. He looked at the plastic canister. It appeared to be mouth spray. At least that was what it said on the bottle. He put it to the side. The letter was written in code which he quickly deciphered.

  As usual, Bernard’s messages were short and blunt. The decoded message said, “Spray on paper or directly at subject. Subject will die in less than an hour. Do it now.” The admiral smiled with an evil grin.

  Admiral Michael Meyers grabbed his satchel and headed off for a meeting at a clandestine local restaurant. The man would be his first victim.

  As he cheerfully strutted down the vaulted halls of the Pentagon, he was in a good mood. Soon I will control this whole building. He then wondered if there was enough spray to dispatch a few other people he didn’t like.

  Part Six

  Disaster Starts

  Chapter Forty-Two

  B

  ack in the Las Vegas offices of Dewey & Beatem, Colton Banyon grabbed his encrypted cell phone and yelled out that he had to make a very important call. The other people just stared at him as he abruptly left the room. They had seen his reaction to the name Bernard Schultz. Once he was in the hallway — he started to run.

  Banyon sprinted down the long hallway which led to the reception area. He breezed by the startled receptionist, Ryan, and bolted out the glass door heading towards the parking lot. But he didn’t stop there. He continued running until he was well off the Dewey & Beatem property and behind the next building away from the law firm.

  He needed to talk to Wolf but didn’t want anyone else to hear. He knew Bart had cameras and microphones all over the building. He also believed Bart would cover the entire parking lot with surveillance — and since Bart had also rented the van — he probably had that bugged too. Bart didn’t know about Banyon’s ability to talk to a spirit but he suspected that Banyon had some sort of special gift. If Bart found out that Banyon was “different”, Colton Banyon knew he and Loni would never be free again. Other than the President, nobody else knew about Banyon’s abilities, except the rest of his team. He intended to keep it that way.

  When Marlene announced the owner of the horse farm was Bernard Schultz, Banyon instantly knew an old Nazi was involved in their case and it meant Wolf could help him solve the crisis. Wolf had mentioned Bernard Schultz several times over the last few years, but Banyon had begged off going after him at the time because he was already busy with a takedown of another old Nazi, or was worn out from chasing one. Wolf had always said they had time. Now there was no time.

  He leaned against the wall of the building and tried to catch his breath. Banyon was well over sixty years old and extended running was not much fun for him. Once he regained his breath, he turned towards the wall so no one could read his lips, and acted like he was making a phone call.

  “Wolf, is Bernard Schultz involved in this?” Banyon asked out loud.

  “Good to hear from you, Colt. I thought you had given up on me,” the spirit replied happily in his old, cultured, voice. “The answer to your question is yes, he is. He is the mastermind.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before? We could have solved this case already. Many people may die because of that.”

  “Like you, I didn’t know until recently,” Wolf replied sadly.

  “How could you not know?” Banyon yelled. “You told me he was one of your targets a long time ago.”

  “That’s correct,” Wolf admitted. “I have said that. But as far as I knew, he was not actively pursuing a project which was a threat to anyone. I only knew he was talked about at some of the Effort meetings. I had uncovered that, but I hadn’t found an actual link to them in the past.”

  “Why couldn’t you find him? You can see everything.” Banyon asked in a frustrated voice.

  “Colt, I don’t just know things. I have to research them. That requires a time, a place, and a person. I had only his name. He must have communicated with the Effort by phone and electronically. You know I can’t follow either one.”

  “Then how did you suddenly connect to him?”

  “I was not able to connect him to this mess until you identified the woman who had purchased your books. Once I saw the postmark on the FedEx envelope which was sent to her, I backtracked to the FedEx mailbox where it was posted. By going further back, I discovered the man who dropped it in the box. He is a servant for Schultz, by the name of Aldo. I had to research back three weeks to find him.”

  “Why did it take so long to find him?”

  “As I just told you,” Wolf said with a bit of annoyance. “I cannot track electronic impulses, like an email or a phone call. I can only track physical things. There were no leads to pursue until the woman from the bookstore was found. It was only then that I discovered the old Nazi Bernard Schultz was involved.”

  “Who is he?” Banyon quickly asked.

  “He is a German monster who the Effort brought over here to spy on Americans. His real name is Albert von Braun. He is a scientist by trade but committed many atrocities, especially to women, as a Nazi in Europe while attempting to genetically build the perfect horse. He continued his experiments on horses in the United States and has made some discoveries which have led to several famous stallions. He parlayed that and his continued spy operation into a huge fortune. Now he has set his sights on making America a military dictatorship. He must be stopped.”

  Banyon thought about that for a few seconds. “Is it true? Has he perfected killer nanobots?”

  “Yes, this is quite true,” Wolf replied. “He found a scientist to work with who has developed and made the devices. I am researching the full history right now. These devices could provide so much good in the world, but right now, they are being used as killer machines. The creation of these devices is quite dubious.”

  “Is he also the one that sent the letter with the threats to the President?”

  “Actually, Aldo, his servant, sent the letter. But Schultz told him what to write.”

  “Do they intend to kill millions, like the letter says?”

  “They have already begun killing people. It started several hours ago.” The statement sent a shiver down Banyon’s spine.

  “Do you know who they are targeting?”

  “You already know they are trying to kill everyone in Congress. But that is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “How? We know about putting the nanobots on a softcover book. Is there another delivery system?”

  “Th
ey are using several methods which require someone to get close to the targets,” the spirit responded. “I believe some will succeed.”

  “But doesn’t that mean there are many people involved? Where is he getting the help to implement his plans?”

  “Schultz is the senior member of the Effort. He has plenty of help. They also have trusted people embedded in the government.”

  Banyon was now really worried. He had fought the Effort several times before. He had won some battles and lost some as well.

  “The letter sent to the President said there will be mass killings in two days, no matter what the President does, but he was instructed to implement a gun ban immediately. Why does Schultz want that?”

  “Schultz lied. The deaths will begin piling up tomorrow. He also knows the President can’t ban guns without the consent of Congress which is why he has gone after them first. It is an attempt to cripple the government and create chaos.”

  “Where will the mass killings start occurring and who is targeted?” Banyon was suddenly panicked.

  “Chicago is the place and the target is all the Hispanics there.”

  “Oh my God,” Banyon screamed. “Can we stop them?”

  “I’m not sure,” Wolf said. “They are sending every Hispanic household a fake credit card with the nanobots embedded on the surface. Once a Hispanic person touches the card the nanobots will activate and search out anybody with Hispanic genes; that would include others in the household. Anyone they come in contact with will die in as little as one hour. Then the nanobots die and decompose leaving no trace — it will look like a pandemic.”

  “They can target just Hispanics? How can they do that?”

  “Different races have different genetic codes, Colt,” Wolf replied. “The genetic code for Hispanics has been identified. They also have the means to target just Blacks as well. Blacks will be attacked two days from now unless you stop these bastards.”