O’Connor moved his palm up and down, signalling Aleta to remain calm, and they watched the magnificent creature in awe. Even though it was over four metres long, and would have weighed over a tonne, its movements were unhurried and graceful. The torpedo-shaped shark was a deep grey on top, changing to white on the underbelly. Its huge round eyes were wide open, although just before an attack, the shark would roll them back into their sockets for protection.
The animal disappeared behind the blind side of the sphinx and the pair waited for it to reappear. O’Connor and Aleta had encountered great whites before, and while never a zen moment, both knew the shark’s preferred prey consisted of seals, dolphins and rays, which they usually attacked from below. Attacks on humans were almost always a case of mistaken identity – to a shark, a board rider with arms and legs extended could look like an elephant seal from below, but with over 3000 razor-sharp teeth, and a bite that exceeded one tonne of pressure per square inch, that was usually cold comfort to the board rider.
The animal appeared around the sphinx, closer now, and suddenly it charged, pectoral fins down and back arched in classic attack mode.
9 Corsica
The low hills to the north of Corsica’s Figari Sud-Corse airfield flashed past the windows and the EVRAN Gulfstream G550 powered into a clear Mediterranean sky. The aircraft climbed quickly, banking to the left toward the Italian island of Sardinia, before setting a south-easterly course that would take it across the southern tip of Italy and on to Alexandria on Africa’s northern coast.
As soon as they reached cruising altitude, the steward appeared with Crowley’s customary croissants, percolated coffee and champagne.
‘Did you make any progress on getting us a scientist to debunk this climate change crap?’ Crowley asked Rachel who was seated in the plush leather chair opposite. ‘I’ve got a feeling this is going to be front and centre at the next presidential election, and we need someone with gravitas who can swing the voters against it.’
Rachel withdrew a folder from her soft leather attaché case. ‘Down to three candidates, but before we left, I received a report from Hernandez in Area 15. The most promising is a Professor Ahlstrom.’
‘The Swedish Nobel Laureate?’
‘One and the same – due to receive his prize in Stockholm next week for his groundbreaking work in nuclear physics.’
‘So why would someone like Ahlstrom be a candidate? He’s more likely to speaking out against fossil fuels?’
‘You need to look to the second page,’ said Rachel. ‘Area 15 has turned up some interesting data on our professor. Ahlstrom’s presently at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, which is about as prestigious as it gets, but as you can see from the report, our man has some interesting habits.’
A slow smile spread across Crowley’s face as he scanned Rachel’s report and the meticulous research from Area 15. ‘So even the Nobel’s ten million Swedish krona isn’t going to get this guy off the hook?’
Rachel shook her head. ‘And it’s not quite that much. The prize varies according to how much the committee has in the fund, and given the current sluggishness of world financial markets, it’s rumoured that this year it’ll be reduced to eight million krona, which is a little over a million dollars. But as you can see from the report, in between frequenting nuclear physics laboratories, our man Ahlstrom has expensive habits . . . mainly cocaine, gambling and high-priced call girls, and his wife’s just filed for what’s going to be a costly divorce. Vivienne Ahlstrom’s a well-regarded scientist in her own right, and until now, she’s turned a blind eye to Ahlstrom’s dalliances, but now the kids have left, apparently she just wants out.’
‘Can she be bought? If we go with this guy, we’ll need to settle this quickly.’
‘If you mean, “will she remain out of the spotlight?”, I think so. She’s already got someone else on the scene, so I think she’ll be happy to settle. Half the Nobel should do it, but she’ll want the house.’
‘Make sure she gets it.’ Crowley stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Homeless and up to his armpits in debt . . .’
Rachel nodded. ‘It will be a real coup if we can get Ahlstrom to switch camps. If a scientist of his reputation starts to rubbish climate change science, the rest of the world will listen. And I think it’s a better than even chance. The drug thugs and the banks are already circling.’
‘And the other two?’ Crowley asked, flicking through the remaining dossiers.
‘They’re possibilities, but they’re pretty clean. I’ve only included them because they’re both well known and like Ahlstrom, highly respected in the broader international scientific community, and from our point of view, they’d be pretty credible. But although both have had the odd affair, none of those are ongoing, and their finances are in much better shape, so the leverage for us isn’t nearly as strong.’
‘How much is it going to cost to bring Ahlstrom on board?’
‘One and a half million should get the drug barons, bookmakers and banks off his back, and if we offer him a place to stay – a town house should do it – then it’s a matter of how much he’ll want to jump off the climate ship.’
‘Half a million a year?’
Rachel frowned. ‘That might be a little generous. If you want me to negotiate though, I’ll keep that one in reserve.’
‘Let’s do it. As soon as this conference is over, get yourself up to Stockholm. I’ll have Prince Johan organise you a ticket for the Nobel ceremony,’ Crowley said, handing back the folder. Half a million a year would be money well spent, he thought. It was only a fraction of what he paid Rachel, but she was as ruthless as she was good in bed, and worth every dime.
‘And the security situation in Alexandria?’
‘The military are expecting protests, but that shouldn’t bother us. They’re mainly confined to the harbour foreshores.’
Crowley nodded, a satisfied look on his face. The more unrest there was in this part of the world, the more likely oil prices would rise.
The EVRAN corporate jet rolled to a stop on the south-west side of the runway at Alexandria’s Borg el Arab International Airport, away from the main terminal. In a measure of the power of the Pharos group, immigration and customs procedures that might take mere mortals and even government officials an hour or more were handled quickly and discreetly. Three black Mercedes were waiting on the tarmac: one for Crowley and Rachel, and two for Crowley’s personal bodyguards, several of whom were moonlighting members of the powerful Egyptian military.
A short distance after leaving the airport, the small convoy swept past the outlying areas of Al Hawwariyyah and Qaryat Shakush, already threatened by the advancing Sahara Desert to the west. The largest desert in the world was expanding at the rate of six kilometres a year, which over the next one hundred years would not only prove a problem for cities like Alexandria on the Nile delta, it would devastate many areas of the African continent itself – but that was not a thought Sheldon Crowley entertained. For the CEO of the world’s largest emitter, the chardonnay-swilling, leftie fluffballs who constantly advocated government taxes to eliminate climate change were a far bigger threat. They reached a large roundabout and turned right onto the Cairo–Alexandria Desert Road and the convoy weaved its way past rusted buses belching black smoke, ancient Soviet Lada taxis in their ubiquitous yellow and black livery, camels and rubber-wheeled horse-drawn carts of doubtful origin.
The convoy came to a halt outside the huge wrought-iron gates of the Kashta Palace, in the wealthy Somuha area to the south of the city. The palace, like many that had once belonged to Egypt’s King Farouk, had been used as a guesthouse for VIPs. The eighteenth-century building, modelled on the Palace of Versailles, had accommodation for up to forty guests, and for the Pharos Group, it was perfect. Secure and secluded, it was away from the troubles erupting on the Corniche, the waterfront promenade that ran around Alexandria’s harbour. And not only was the Kashta Palace removed from any disturbances, the fifty hectares of
gardens made it almost impossible for anyone to eavesdrop on conversations as the participants strolled along the paths in breaks between briefings.
Rachel opened the window of the Mercedes and produced two passports. The guard snapped to attention and saluted.
‘Ahlan wa sahlan, Sayad . . . welcome back, sir.’
Crowley waved dismissively, and the convoy moved up the long, gravel drive lined with palm trees. Between the Pharos meetings the palace was left vacant, guarded by a skeleton security staff; now, every hundred metres or so, the convoy passed detachments of the Pharos guards. Heavily armed with Heckler & Koch MP5 sub-machine guns with laser sights, earpieces in place and dressed in black, they were instantly recognisable. More were stationed around the perimeter of the gardens. The whole area was covered by CCTV, with security controlled from a command centre in the basement beside the extensive wine cellar. The convoy swept under the stone portico supported by magnificent stone pillars, topped with the carved faces of the pharaohs, from Tutankhamun to Ramesses II. Above the portico, on the third floor roof, more armed guards scanned the perimeter from behind the stone balustrades.
To the outside world, the existence of the shadowy, eponymous Pharos group was virtually unknown, and even those who had heard of it had no idea that Pharos himself was Sheldon Crowley. Next morning Pharos surveyed the fourteen men and one woman seated at the polished mahogany table of the conference room. They either controlled a substantial proportion of the world’s resources, or were in very strong positions of influence, or in many cases both. But no single member had the power to achieve a New World Order on their own. The membership had been carefully crafted to create a powerful hidden synergy. On the wall behind Pharos were two large, framed quotes:
‘Let me issue and control a nation’s money and
I care not who writes the laws.’
– Mayer Amschel Rothschild, 1744–1812,
founder of the House of Rothschild
Beside it was another framed quote:
‘Behind the ostensible government sits enthroned
an Invisible Government owing no allegiance and
acknowledging no responsibility to the people.’
– Theodore Roosevelt, 1858–1919,
twenty-sixth president of the United States
Together, the quotes encapsulated the ideology of the Pharos Group.
In front of each place at the table was a soft leather folder containing the participant’s confidential briefing notes on the current world financial situation and predictions for the movement of stocks and shares. The folders included secret information on the G7 governments of the US, the UK, Germany, France, Italy, Japan and Canada, as well as detailed notes on a rising Russia, China, India and Brazil, and predictions on the likelihood of political change.
‘Given the upheavals in the Middle East,’ Pharos began, ‘the world is more unstable than at any time since 1939, and that is something we intend to turn to our advantage. I am reminded of a statement by the thirty-third president of the United States, Harry S. Truman. In 1941, when he was a little-known senator from Missouri, he said, “If we see that Germany is winning we ought to help Russia, and if Russia is winning, we ought to help Germany, and that way let them kill as many as possible.” It is a strategy we can employ throughout the Middle East and beyond, as we move to gain ultimate power. That strategy is at Flag A of your briefing notes. Firstly, we need to take control of the world’s finances and stock exchanges; and secondly, we need our people at the top of the major political institutions. Any views?’
‘Fortunately for us, not many people know that the US Federal Reserve is owned by the banks and not the government.’ René du Bois, the tall, distinguished CEO of the world’s largest merchant banking group, spoke with a heavy French accent, and an air of authority. Much to Pharos’s displeasure, a small section of the French media was still pursuing the allegations made by the Filipina kitchen hand, but at least Du Bois’ lawyers had been successful in getting his passport returned.
‘We are already the major player in the Fed,’ said Du Bois, ‘but we need to increase our own holdings while we weaken the other banks to the point we can wipe them out, one by one. On the wider front, the key to control is debt.’ Du Bois paused to let his emphasis take hold. ‘As you’re well aware, when governments need money, they print money, buy their bonds and charge interest. The money goes into circulation via the banks, which create more money through customer loans, which goes into circulation through additional banks, which in turn repeat the process. Debt is the key to our control of the world money markets. We’re also in positions of influence at the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund, and through those organisations, we can impose much more debt on the developing countries to keep them in a position of subservience.’ Du Bois smirked. It was all so easy for those on the inside. Even those in positions of political power rarely understood who was really pulling the levers.
‘We, of course, need to continue to improve our position vis-à-vis our stock holdings, by manipulating the world’s stock markets. Nowhere have we been more successful in this manipulation than through this mythical war on terror,’ Du Bois continued, ‘especially in the Middle East. It’s this region that offers us the greatest opportunities to create chaos on the stock markets. Once the masses are enslaved through overwhelming debt, we can influence a change from capitalism and democracy to acceptance of our world government.’
‘Changing that culture of capitalism will not be easy, especially in emerging consumer economies like China,’ observed Samuel P. Talbot, the baby-faced former Head of the World Bank, ‘although I agree with the thrust of the argument. We can use the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund to increase control over developing counties, but we need continued control of the majority of the world’s media to ensure the real picture is not reported,’ he said, looking at Louis Walden, the short, balding media baron.
‘Changing the culture is difficult but not impossible,’ Pharos observed. ‘Our own energy and finance multinationals will continue operations unabated, and once we have more of our people in bodies like the UN, we can start a campaign aimed at getting the masses to agree to a post-capitalist world. Through the media, we create the perception that the capitalist system is riven with corruption, and driven by pursuit of blind profit. We begin to make a very strong case that people will be much better off under the control of a revitalised UN – essentially a world government whose finances we control, and where universal production brigades produce only what is needed on a sustainable basis. The lunatic Left embraces it, and the masses rise up against greed and corruption to embrace a wiser system of ration quotas and an acceptance of duties assigned to them. But first,’ he warned, ‘we have to gain control of the world’s political systems from within.’
Pharos turned to a new section of his folder. ‘You will see from your briefing notes at Flag B that the only political systems we can predict with any certainty, at least for now, are those of China and Russia. For China’s chairman, Xi Jinping, it will be business as usual, although he will face growing pressure from the hundreds of millions of his countrymen who are not sharing in China’s newfound wealth. And therein lies an opportunity to destabilise the regime, although that may be a couple of years off yet . . . Any thoughts?’
Pharos listened intently as the discussion ranged from likely GDP growth rates, to future labour problems under the one-child policy that had produced a birth rate that was the lowest in Chinese history.
‘And we should be mindful of another weakness which we can turn to our advantage,’ Louis Walden added, ‘and that’s the internet. Sina Weibo, the Chinese equivalent of Twitter, is starting to give the wider public a voice, and although the government has managed to maintain their censorship controls, they’re vulnerable to cyber attacks.’
Pharos made a note as the participants probed the weaknesses of the Chinese regime, before the discussion turned to Russia.
‘Vlad
imir Putin is firmly in control,’ said Pharos, ‘and the Russians have plans.’ Pharos flicked the remote, bringing up a map of what Pharos analysts predicted Europe might look like with a resurgent Russia. ‘With the annexation of the Crimea from Ukraine, Russia has gained the rights to huge oil and gas reserves in the Black and Azov Seas off the Crimean coast – ten billion barrels of oil and four trillion cubic metres of natural gas, and that’s just the start.’
‘Apart from Germany and France, the Eurozone is still a basket case,’ Du Bois agreed, ‘but there are weaknesses in the long term. Russia badly needs capital investment, and if the oil price drops, we can exploit that, because that will impact on the Kremlin’s ability to improve living standards.’
Again, Pharos listened intently before he brought the discussion to a close. ‘As long as Vladimir Putin’s there, the political systems in Russia are going to be a tough nut to crack, but the situation in the United States is very different,’ he said, with a rare smile. The discovery of large-scale shale oil deposits had the potential to finally bring the United States self-sufficiency in energy and free her from the shackles of unfriendly regimes in the Middle East and other tenuous overseas supplies.
‘The problems in the United States start with the current administration,’ Crowley observed. ‘McGovern made a speech in Huntsville the other day – the usual left-wing nonsense about climate change, when half the country’s digging themselves out from under snow drifts, for Christ’s sake. But McGovern’s not taking any notice of that, and now, for the first time, we may see a move toward legislation taxing carbon emissions. One of the greatest threats we face to our operations in coal, oil and gas is a tax on carbon, and it’s got to be stopped. We need the Republican Party back in power.’
‘And we would need someone in the White House we could control,’ the former secretary of state Bradley Guthrie observed. ‘Someone we could count on.’
The Alexandria Connection Page 8