The Kasparov Agenda (Omega Ops Legion Book 1)

by C. S. De Mel

  “I have with me today, a man who some may call an Omega Ops Legion ‘historian’, a Mr. Uecker Clemens. A venture capitalist back in his prime, now retired. And, much like L.B. Jefferies, he has formed an obsessive hobby of keeping an all-seeing eye on his subject. In this case, the Legion.”

  “Clever comparison coming from a high school dropout.”

  “College dropout actually, but I’m sure that won’t be the first factual error you’ll be making on this show. Either way, I’m sure you’ll be able to help in lifting some of the mist that surrounds this organization with your, err, expertise.”

  Uecker sneered at Stiltson from across the studio. “Just so we’re clear, I think your show is smut, some of the worst kind of media garbage out there. I’m only here to clear up as much of it as I can, before you further warp the minds of your pea-brained listeners.”

  Jerry grinned. “Like I said, New York: action-packed show.” He cleared his throat. “Well, let’s get right to it. The First Bank incident. Legion involvement. Disaster. Give us a play-by-play, Mr. Jefferies.”

  Uecker was still wearing a sneer. “Don’t get cute.”

  Jerry waited for Uecker to continue, but he simply stared back at him angrily. Jerry smiled. “Alright—Uecker. Walk us through it.”

  “Love to. First off, it wasn’t a disaster. It was making the best of a bad situation.”

  Stiltson raised an eyebrow. “Really? One hostage—a single mother—dead. Three police officers dead. Injuries across the board. You consider that making the best of it?”

  “Frankly, yes. If Bruce and his Legion boys didn’t get involved when they did, the body-count would’ve been far higher.”

  “You don’t know that!” Stiltson challenged, smacking his desk. “You can’t know that. It was entirely a police matter that should have been handled by the police. They had no stake in it.”

  “When one of these lunatics calls out a Legion member by name and uses him as a bargaining chip, I’d say that gives them a big stake in it.”

  Jerry let out a loud laugh. “A good point. The entire situation was brought about by the Legion to begin with!”

  “Yeah, and I guess Martin Luther King and JFK stood out in public with ‘kick me’ signs on their backs. You know you’re doing the right thing when people come gunning for you. For every person trying to do some good, there’ll be another ten trying to unravel it.”

  “In the case of First Bank, the police were the ones responsible to do that ‘good’ you’re referring to,” Jerry countered. “Not these wannabe superheroes that think they’re above the law. And if they’re going to play the role of superheroes, at least do it right. Dead hostages, dead law enforcement agents. And to top it all off, they let the main targets escape: Tony Calzone and Scorcher. Reports suggest they had another crime boss from their overseas network present at the scene as well—also eluded capture. When the NYPD associate themselves with people like those in the Legion, their credibility goes down.” Jerry picked up the latest newspaper and ruffled through the pages. “A little piece of info for everyone tuning in. My understanding is that Police Captain James Morring, the man that was spearheading the operation at First Bank, is coming under heavy fire from the higher-ups for allowing Legion interference—and rightly so. Just outrageous.”

  “They can try to crucify him, but he’s a competent man and it was the right decision. Despite what you say, Stiltson, I’m sure the citizens of New York will see it that way as well.”

  “Don’t be so sure. What happened under Morring’s command will not be remembered in any sort of good light. Three fallen police officers. Now, don’t get me wrong, my sympathies go out to those officers and their families. But they knew the risks, and they were willing to put it all on the line to save lives. They died heroes. Now, what we have with the single mother is something entirely different. She was a hostage, and she became a casualty. She died a victim. What can the Legion do to repair that damage? What can Captain Morring say for allowing their interference which lead to this outcome?”

  Uecker sighed. “I’m certain they did all they could. And in doing so, they minimized the damage.”

  “Try feeding that to the mother’s six-year-old daughter she left behind. She was in the bank with her mother at the time of the incident.”

  Uecker was beginning to lose his patience. “You don’t think I know that? Unfortunately, these are the consequences when dealing with scumbags. The Legion and the police are waging war with these people, and there’s going to be casualties. For that one hostage that died, the rest were able to be saved. We should be thankful that it wasn’t more than one.”

  Stiltson knew he hit pay dirt—he had him now. He smirked. “Luckily for us, I think the majority of us don’t think of human life as such an expendable commodity. For the six-year-old girl that lost her mother, that was everything to her. How can you measure the value of a human life like some sort of statistic?”

  “I’m doing nothing of the sort! I’m just coming to terms with the harsh reality of the situation and that this was the best possible outcome.” What was further aggravating Uecker was the revolting smile Stiltson was wearing. Over the air, Stiltson was sounding empathic, but only Uecker could see his complete and utter indifference.

  “You heard it here first: the Omega Ops Legion is ready to chalk up the losses to ‘making the best of the situation’.”

  “Now you listen here, you smart-ass—”

  “I’m sorry, we still have a lot to discuss, but we’ll leave the issue on this note: If you’re going to break away from procedure, you’d better be damn well sure you know what you’re doing and leave no room for criticism. Because there will always be a lingering doubt of what could have happened if things were done the right way.”

  “That’s not what the Legion does... Write off losses...” Uecker was red in the face, but as much as he wanted to storm off the show, he had already decided beforehand that he would see it through to the end. He had to cover as much as possible and give some good publicity to the Legion. He wasn’t exactly sure how good a job of it he was doing so far.

  “Okay, Uecker, moving on: You are purported to be the expert on the Legion—a chronicler, if you will—”

  “Hey, that’s what you called me. I said nothing other than I’m familiar with how the Legion operates.”

  “In any case, why don’t you share with us exactly what the Legion does?”

  “Yeah, I can give you the broad strokes—”

  “Wait! But before we go into that, let’s talk history. I think everyone is curious as to how this organization came to be in the first place. How’d it all start?”

  Uecker scratched his chin. “Loaded question…but I’ll give it a shot. This is my understanding of it: Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, speculated to be towards the end of the High Middle Ages—”

  “This sounds like the start to some piss-poor folklore...”

  Uecker ignored him. “There was a period of civil anarchy in Asia. It was specifically being spurred on by a cult group.”

  “The cult group being the Legion?”

  “No…this was something malicious. A group upholding dangerous ideals and leading men down dangerous paths. I believe this cult’s greatest power laid in their ability to spread. Their growth was phenomenal, and their influence grew rapidly throughout Asia and spread westward.”

  Stiltson smirked. “So, they were out to take over the world, were they? Did this cult have a name?”

  “The Demon’s Wake.”

  “Frightening!”

  “Anyway… Several men and women created a coalition—an opposing force to the Demon’s Wake. Men and women from Europe and Asia. It was a time where no one knew whom to trust.”

  “That’s how it is at any time in history…”

  “Nevertheless, long story short, in the face of adversity, these men and women joined together and managed to defeat and disband the cult. Thus, these were some of the first members, the foundin
g members of the Omega Ops Legion we know today.”

  Stiltson picked at his teeth idly with his index finger. “Great story, absolutely riveting—could have used a dragon though. Now, the name of this organization, the ‘Omega Ops Legion’—what does that mean? Omega Ops… Sounds militaristic and possibly genocidal. The ‘Final Operation’? And I suppose ‘Legion’ references the army from hell that will carry out this cleansing?”

  It was Uecker’s turn to laugh. “Hardly. Omega stems from the Greek letter and was used to symbolize greatness and unity within the Legion. Ops is actually in reference to the Latin term meaning ‘having the power to aid or help’. And ‘Legion’ references the ancient Roman Legions that have been revered for their efficiency and skill.” Uecker smiled. “And there you have it. I suppose the name itself sums up exactly what the Omega Ops Legion is all about.”

  Stiltson stared for a moment, then laughed. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you, old man?”

  “Seventy-two. Why the hell would I mind?”

  “Well, this may strike you as news, but some people are sensitive about their age. But I had a feeling you wouldn’t have that problem. And you’re a member of the Omega Ops Legion?”

  “No, I never said I was.”

  “Well, you seem pretty intimate with their inner workings and the mythologies surrounding the organization. How is it you’re privy to such information?”

  “I have many friends that are in the Legion. The first real taste of it was from my mother, Mary Clemens, a lovely woman. No formal ties to the Legion, but she directly assisted with progressing their work.”

  “An unofficial member, so to speak?”

  “Yeah, I guess you can say that. Warm personality—always tried to find the good in people. Involved with the charities the Legion organized. Financial and community outreach, that sort of thing.”

  “Yes, I’m sure every little boy believes their mother to be an angel, but to raise a son like you, well…” Jerry let out a short laugh of derision. “The fruits of the labors speak volumes.”

  “Really? Are you trying to bait me to come over there and slug you one? Makes for great on-air radio? Or maybe you just can’t help yourself from being a jackass.”

  “Little of both, maybe?”

  Uecker tried his best to control his temper so that he could continue to hit his points. He took a deep breath. “As I was saying—my mother, she was exceptionally intelligent and would always try to fully understand why something was the way it was. She never blindly accepted anything as fact. I guess when I saw the type of woman my mother was and how the Legion influenced her life, I wanted to make it a part of my life as well—even if I didn’t officially join.”

  “I’m curious... You seem to be so engrossed with the Legion; why wouldn’t you try to join it? Why not your mother?”

  “I can’t speak on behalf of my mother on this, but for me, I suppose I like to operate from the sidelines.”

  “Is that the reason? Or maybe, the thought of being officially tied to such an organization scared you.”

  Uecker raised an eyebrow. “Why would I be scared?”

  “Because in your fascination to dig deep, perhaps you learned a bit too much. Things about the organization that wouldn’t sit well with any man, woman, or child outside of their circle.”

  “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Stiltson.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m here—to jog your memory. Tell me, what do you know about Bohemian Grove?”

  Uecker stared at Stiltson for a moment. He scratched his head. “The Bohemian Club? That’s where all those rich republicans stand naked against redwood trees, right?”

  “It’s where the world’s elite gather. The most influential, the most wealthy—the most powerful. Frankly, it seems like the meeting hall where these men decide what direction they’ll take the world in. Political agendas, corporate agendas... Some of these men have entire nations within their sphere of control. And where is the Omega Ops Legion in all this? What’s their connection with the Bohemian Club?”

  “I wasn’t aware that such a connection even existed.”

  “Oh no? Are you aware that the Legion has long since associated its organization with the symbol of an owl? And that it has been suggested that Legion members have been in attendance at Bohemian Club meetings, where a forty-foot owl statue stands at the center of it all. Maybe it’s the Legion that formed the club in the first place!”

  A tinge of red pinched at Uecker’s cheeks. In the back of his mind, he was struggling to comprehend how this annoying man got his hands on such information. Mind you, as far as Uecker knew, all the things Stiltson was spouting on about were just wild rumors. But to know about the Legion’s owl symbology… Uecker was very curious about Stiltson’s information sources.

  Uecker composed himself. “As far as I know, the owl has been used by certain factions within the Legion some time ago. Currently, I don’t think it’s being associated with the Legion at all. But during the times that it was, it represented wisdom and knowledge. Nothing nefarious, as you would have your audience believe.”

  “So, the Legion and the Bohemian Club both using the symbol of an owl is just a coincidence?”

  Uecker scoffed. “And I suppose, according to you, the girls down at Hooters are all part of the conspiracy as well?”

  Jerry smiled. “Please, we both know that women aren’t allowed membership into the Bohemian Club.”

  “Well, the Legion holds no such prejudices. Many of its members are, in fact, women.”

  “Then I suppose the Legion would be the front, and the real meat of the organization gets dished out within the confines of Bohemian Grove.”

  Uecker rubbed his eyes. “Are you about done with the witch hunt?”

  “Try to undermine the truth all you like, the American public are not the blind sheep you believe them to be.”

  “I didn’t say anything like that! I don’t think—”

  “Well, we’re almost out of time here, so I’ll give a few closing points on the issues: With the new millennium fast approaching, who knows what the Legion has prepared for us? Y2K might just be the beginning of their agenda. Once the financial systems inevitably crash due to these glitches, society as we know it could very well be thrown into turmoil. The Legion, no doubt, has planned for all of this and are ready to pick up the pieces and remold them to benefit the few, while the society’s masses—honest people like you and me, will be thrown to the wayside. Don’t let the Legion take hold of our country in such a manner. We have to fight back and it starts right here with us. We need to take back our rights and freedoms because organizations like the Legion sure as hell don’t want us to keep them. Stiltson out.”

  Uecker’s face was red with frustration as he began to spit into his mic: “Yeah, and I’d like to add that all the garbage Stiltson vomits out onto the air are a bunch of half-baked conspiracies that don’t have a shred of evidence and panders to the lowest common denominator. Don’t let this moron of a radio host throw you into his delusional fantasy world.”

  Stiltson stood up from his chair and stretched. “I’m sorry, Uecker, we were out of time, so that last little bit you had to say didn’t quite make it...but hey, great show! Listen, I know you personally know Bruce. If you would be able to bring him onto the show, we’d put him on in a second.”

  Uecker’s eyes bulged. “So you can stick more skewers through him? You turn my stomach, you cockroach.”

  Stiltson laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Hey, it’s nothing personal—just makes for good radio. And good radio makes for good ratings. Let him know, Mr. Jefferies. Let him know.”

  “Go to hell.” And on that note, Uecker threw off his headset and stormed out of the booth.

  ***

  Chapter 16 – Varick Strikes Back

  Friday, November 5th, 1999

  Four days since the First Bank incident.

  The negative publicity the Legion was receiving appea
red to be getting worse with each passing day. Bruce had optimistically predicted that the initial shock of the event would dissipate in a few days, and things would slowly get better. But after the Shocktalk interview with Uecker, the media had a gold mine of different angles to spin. It was painfully obvious there would be no end to Legion bashing in the foreseeable future. Leading the efforts was Shocktalk Radio and their media circus. It was unnerving how much pull such a trashy radio network had.

  ***

  Arthur Finch had been invited to a quiet dinner at Kasparov Manor. Joining him at the table was Varick, Santos, and Alex.

  “So where’s Frank these days?” Varick asked.

  “Frank had to take care of some administration at Fort Bragg. I think he’s going to be there for a week or so. Might be going back and forth between here and Bragg over the next couple of months he said.”

  “You didn’t need to go with him?”

  “Not on this particular trip, no. Said it wasn’t necessary.”

  Varick smirked. “But aren’t you the brains of the outfit, Arthur?”

  Arthur shrugged. “That’s what I thought, but Frank said he could field this one himself, so why cut my vacation short? Still want to make a Liberty Island tour before I go.”

  Santos returned to his seat after answering a lengthy phone call. “Teddy?” Varick asked.

  “Yeah—asking for Bruce. He couldn’t reach him on his cell.”

  “Was wondering when he was going to call here, with the mess that’s being going on... Bruce is probably still in Attica, just to hide and avoid the calls.”

  Arthur was intrigued by Santos and Varick’s conversation. “Who’s Teddy? Bruce’s keeper?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” replied Santos. “But since he’s not around, I end up getting the lip as if it’s my fault.”

  Varick speared his roast potatoes with a fork. “It is your fault, Santos.”

  “I didn’t tell Uecker to go on that show. And he was only trying to help.”