He’d worked for Stoellar and his group for years, but it had been a relatively painless experience. They told him how to vote, what laws to propose or support, and in return, he had received substantial increases in his Swiss bank account. Large sums of money for political campaigns were always available to him.
Now, Wilkinson had the distinct, and chilling, feeling that he was being thrust into a position that he was totally unprepared to handle. It had never been part of his bargain and certainly not his goal. He had just wanted to be a senator and serve his time in Washington, DC, until he could retire and reap the endless benefits afforded to him. He had never wanted to be vice president, much less the president.
Once he was completely alone, he answered the call. “Erik, good to hear from you. I wanted to discuss the VP nomination with you. Congress seems hopelessly deadlocked and will never approve Montrose. Maybe you can come up with another candidate. She’s just too much of a political risk. Surely you can…”
Stoellar displayed his impatience and interrupted the president. “Wilkinson, I asked you to nominate Montrose for a reason. She is crucial to something important. Forget Congress. This deadlock is unacceptable.
“I’ve discussed the issue with constitutional experts and here’s what you’re going to do. At exactly twelve noon tomorrow, you are to call a press conference. You will announce that due to the highly contentious legislative gridlock caused by the opposition party, of course, you’re going to appoint Carla Montrose to the office of vice president by executive order.”
Wilkinson was stunned. “You know, as well as I do, that the Supreme Court will overrule such an order in a heartbeat.”
Stoellar almost yelled, “The Supreme Court can’t decide to take a shit in less than two weeks! We need a strong vice president, and we need one now. Issue the damn order at noon tomorrow, and Carla can be sworn in immediately after that.”
“But none of the Supreme Court justices will be willing to swear her in.”
“Now listen, Henry, we do not have to have a Supreme Court justice do the honors. Remember LBJ was sworn in by a federal district judge. We will arrange for a cooperative federal judge to be available to swear Carla in as soon as you’ve made your announcement. Remember where you are—Washington, DC. In that town, it may be easy to block something from happening, but once it has happened, things change. The tendency is to try to fix what has already been done; reversing something seldom happens.”
“But even her own party doesn’t want Carla as vice president.”
“Dammit, Wilkinson, I’ve been getting some substantiated rumors about possible terrorist activities. The chatter has increased over the last few days. You may not like Carla—hell man, who does? But you’re going to need a tough VP with balls of steel if we do experience terrorist attacks. I’ve said my last word on this issue, so please, just get on with it.”
Raising his voice and adding as much chill as possible, Stoellar continued, “Henry, I repeat, it is necessary that you appoint Carla tomorrow at noon. She will be sworn in before Congress comes back from lunch.”
Changing his voice to one of authority, menacing authority, Stoellar, added, “Henry, we are not making a suggestion here. You must do this. You have no other option.”
With that, Stoellar ended the call abruptly. Wilkinson was terrified. How had he gotten into this mess? More importantly, how could he get out?
Years ago, he’d made a deal with Stoellar, and that deal had made him rich and successful and among the Washington, DC, political elite. Now, it was time to pay the devil his due.
Oh God! How he needed a drink. His hands were shaking, and his mouth was dry. The nearest liquor cabinet was in the residential quarters, and he made his way there so quickly that the Secret Service agents assigned to guard him almost had to run to keep up with him.
Back in his New York penthouse, Erik Stoellar swore under his breath at the incompetent fool that he had placed in the White House. Oh well, at least it is going to be temporary.
Then, he picked up another phone and made a second call.
After several rings, the phone was answered by General Llewellyn (Lew) McGowan, commanding general of ARRCOM.
“General, are you in a position to talk?”
“No, but I will be in short order.” Then speaking to someone else, Stoellar heard him say, “Gentlemen, you must excuse me for a moment; this is official business.”
About one minute later, he said, “Okay, we can talk now.”
Stoellar began, “Operation Plato is being put into operation. You know what to do, but until about noon on Tuesday, all movements must be discreet and not attract any undue public attention.”
“I understand completely.”
Returning to his golfing foursome, McGowan said, “Gentlemen, Sorry but duty calls. I’ll need to take the cart back to the clubhouse. I will have someone bring it back to you. In the meantime, Colonel Bruce, if you’ll just take your golf bag out of my cart, I’ll be on my way. Again, sorry for the inconvenience. And, by the way, I’m canceling my bets for the day. See you later.”
The foursome was made up of all military officers, so such an interruption wasn’t alarming or even interesting. They waved goodbye and prepared to continue their game.
Stoellar had one more call to make. He punched in a number and waited for eight rings and then ended the call. That was an agreed upon signal within the organization. He would get a return call within minutes.
He walked over to the bar and poured a glass of brandy, one of his more pleasant vices. Then, he crossed over to the windows of his penthouse that looked down over Central Park. The place never ceased to interest him. Today, a pleasant Sunday afternoon, meant that the park would be teeming with activity. Stoellar smiled to himself as he imagined the people down there, going about their lives without a clue as to what fate had in store for them soon, very soon.
Ignorance is bliss. How very true. His thoughts were interrupted by his telephone.
On the other end of the line was Number Eleven. Eleven was the quintessential professional, and one of her well-trained agents would play an important role in the very near future. At any rate, the situation gave him a legitimate reason to be calling her.
Number Eleven was his favorite and certainly the most trusted of his associates. She was younger than the others but far more lethal than all of them put together. In fact, her danger was what made her quite attractive to Stoellar, and he often fantasized about expanding their relationship beyond business. In fact, a little bondage game might just be in order one of these days. He smiled to himself. He shivered in anticipation at the thought of Number Eleven dressed in black leather and brandishing a whip.
“Eleven, your man, Lt. Colonel Collins must be ready to move ASAP. You’ve already briefed him on his responsibilities in preparing for our guests at location Omega. I want you to make certain that everything is perfect. There cannot be anything to make our guests suspicious. I trust you to take care of this in your usual professional manner.”
“I’ll relay your message immediately. By the way, has the president ordered the conscription of the property yet?”
“That will happen on Tuesday afternoon. I want Collins to be in place and ready to act by then.”
“Very good. He’ll be there with all supplies and equipment before then. He’ll act as soon as the order is signed.”
Number Eleven ended the call, and Stoellar smiled to himself. Perfect. Everything was proceeding as he had planned.
****
At about the same time that Erik Stoellar was launching Operation Plato, Maxxine was putting together a most distressing report for John. She spoke to Mister T, who informed her that John was very busy with his guests and should only be disturbed if there were something urgent to report.
She decided that her report could wait for a while. She’d just go back and examine the data one more time. Maybe she could confirm it through other sources. At present, there didn’t seem to be any i
mmediate danger, but she would remain on high alert.
One of the spacecraft monitoring Earth had detected something called Operation Plato. Apparently, the operation was to include the detonation of a nuclear device at a location called Omega. What kind of nuclear device? Could this be a terrorist attack? Where was location Omega?
It was all very suspicious, but nothing was clear yet. Surely, if this did turn out to be a nuclear device, John would surely just ask Maxxine to deactivate it. But then again, maybe this was just some harmless code talk by the humans. They were always doing strange and illogical things and often used weird code names.
After a few more minutes of investigation, Maxxine got an updated term for the device. It was a tactical nuclear weapon. Now, this sounded most serious indeed. She checked her database and learned that the type of device in the report was probably only a ten kiloton yield device. Rather small by comparison to the atomic bomb dropped on Nagasaki and barely equal to the one used on Hiroshima, but very deadly to the small area if affected.
Her next report indicated that location Omega was a hotel. A hotel! Who would want to nuke a hotel? It made no sense whatsoever to her logical brain. Humans were an odd lot, at best. Could this be the action of a disgruntled guest? Maybe an employee who had been fired unjustly? Who would know? She’d just have to find out.
So Maxxine kept listening and watching and would tell John the next time he had the time to talk. She would probably have more information on the subject by then.
Maxxine was beginning to enjoy herself immensely. She totally agreed with Maxx. Humans are fascinating biologicals creatures. Their ingenuity for devising ways of inflicting pain and suffering on their fellow man seemed to be without bounds.
She was going to enjoy her assignment more than she had ever dreamed. “Thank you, Maxx!”
Far out in space, a pleased male voice said, “I love it, God help me, but I do love it so.”
Maxx was a fan of General George Patton’s famous quote about war.
Maxx thought of Patton, “They don’t make them like that anymore!”
Chapter 7: Operation Plato
“The things that will destroy America are prosperity at any price, peace at any price, safety first instead of duty first and love of soft living and the get-rich-quick theory of life.”
- Theodore Roosevelt
Freedom: Seldom given. Often taken. Always difficult to keep.
Those who have been given freedom without a dear price, seldom value it highly enough to fight those that would take it from them.
Fortunately, and occasionally, there are a few good men that will fight for freedom. Not only for their freedom, but for the freedom of all men because they understand that if all are not free, none are free.
****
At precisely noon on Monday, the president of the United States made his announcement appointing Carla Montrose by executive order in a brief appearance on national television. In the past, he often spent more time in recognizing reporters in the pressroom than he did for this entire broadcast. He obviously wanted to get it over with quickly.
For this speech, Wilkinson chose to make his appearance from the Oval Office. That in itself was unusual as the Oval Office is traditionally only used for solemn and sober announcements to the nation. Today, he sat at his desk, flanked by the American and presidential flags to the right and left. Just behind him stood Carla Montrose, dressed in a severely tailored dark suit. For accessories, she wore only a simple strand of pearls around her neck and a thin gold wedding band on her left hand. Her facial expression was one of humility, and there seemed to be a tear in her eye.
The president began to speak in a serious voice. “My fellow Americans, I am saddened by the actions of Congress in failing to approve my nominees for vice president. They have placed our nation in a dangerous situation. This week of partisan fighting is inexcusable and has created an image of an impotent government—a ship of fools. This nation cannot afford to appear as weak to those who would seek to destroy our form of government. Therefore, after much thought and consideration, I have come to the painful decision that I must exercise my privilege as chief executive to appoint the next vice president.
“Representative Carla Montrose will be sworn in immediately at the conclusion of my address.
“Our nation is facing a host of serious internal and external issues that must be addressed. Further, several terrorist organizations pose significant threats to our homeland. It is imperative that a vice president be immediately available to share the burden of guiding our ship of state safely through these dangerous waters. Also, the vice president would be required to act as president if I, for any reason, am unable to fulfill my duties.
“Carla Montrose has served her state, her party, and our nation tirelessly throughout her career. She is well qualified to hold the office of vice president and will carry out her duties and responsibilities with utmost dedication and perseverance.
“Therefore, I am putting the needs of our nation first, and will now sign the executive order that immediately appoints Carla Montrose as vice president of the United States.”
The president lifted a pen and signed the document before him with a flourish.
“God Bless Vice President Carla Montrose, and God Bless the United States of America.”
The Honorable Sheldon G. Rutherford, chief justice of the United States District Court for the District of Columbia, then administered the oath of office of vice president of the United States to Carla Montrose.”
It all took only a few minutes. It was all over but the shouting, so to speak.
As soon as the broadcast ended, Carla leaned forward and spoke softly to the president. The camera crew and federal judge all thought that she was expressing her gratitude for his faith in her capabilities. However, what she said was, “What a corny speech! Such drivel, but the public will eat it up! You always were good at bullshitting, Henry.”
After the swearing-in ceremony, they left the Oval Office together. They were smiling, but they both knew that all hell was about to break loose in Washington.
One of them dreaded it while the other looked forward to it with glee.
Later that afternoon, Wilkinson called the White House medical facility, just down the hall from the Oval Office, to inform the White House physician, Dr. Wesley Newton, that he would like a quick checkup. He explained that the stress from the last few days had taken its toll, and he was afraid that his blood pressure might be out of control. As soon as he ended the call, he left the office and walked purposefully down the hall to the medical center, as always, trailed by Secret Service agents.
He still wasn’t comfortable with that situation and longed for more privacy, but he knew that would never happen. In fact, the only time that he could have any real privacy was inside the residential quarters on the second floor. And even then, there was always an agent just outside the door.
Newton greeted him warmly and ushered him into the examination room where he performed a cursory physical exam after a staff nurse had taken his vital signs.
“Mr. President, all your vital signs are good, considering your heart condition. Your blood pressure is within normal limits, so you can relax about that. I don’t think that your heart condition has changed, but I’m going to run a few additional tests just to make sure.”
“Dr. Newton, I’m just physically exhausted. The last week has taken a toll on me. Maybe you could give me a little something for sleep. Something mild, of course. I have to be mentally alert at all times.”
“Yes, Mr. President, but I insist that you have an electrocardiogram before you go back to work.”
Dr. Newton personally performed the EKG and examined the readings closely.
“Your EKG hasn’t changed from the previous one.” He double checked the readings. “I don’t think that your tiredness is due to your heart. I’ll give you a mild sleeping pill for tonight, but I’d like to see you again tomorrow. Also, I think we’d better adjust
your daily heart medication.” He unlocked a nearby cabinet and withdrew a vial of prescription pills from the carefully stocked supply of pharmaceuticals that were always ready in the medical office. “This will be just slightly stronger than what you’re currently taking. You should take your first dose in the morning with food.
“As I said, your condition is still serious, so I’m going to insist that you take the afternoon off and get some rest. I don’t want you interrupted for any reason. Take the sedative at bedtime and you should rest well, but you won’t wake up groggy in the morning. Just be sure to start your new medication at breakfast.”
The president reluctantly agreed, went back to his office, and informed his staff that he’d be resting for the remainder of the afternoon.
Back in the medical facility, Dr. Newton smiled to himself. The idiot had just played into his hands. Now, he wouldn’t have to resort to subterfuge to alter his medications. The gods of good luck must surely be hovering above his shoulder. The president had come to his office for a checkup today, and that gave him the perfect opportunity to complete step one of his assigned tasks. Tomorrow he would finish the assignment, and he would be free at last. He hated what he had to do, but it meant that his obligations would be completed, and he would finally be free to pursue his life.
****
Erik Stoellar watched the presidential speech with amusement. He smiled broadly as Carla Montrose was sworn in as vice president, and he noted that afterward she looked directly into the camera and gave a wink. To others, it went completely unnoticed. It just appeared that she had a slight tic in her right eye, probably due to nerves. But, Stoellar knew that the wink had been intended for him. It was a sign celebrating their victory.
Stoellar was exuberant. All the years of careful planning, meddling in global politics and even a few assassinations was about to pay off. He was within hours of taking control of the government of the United States, and that would soon lead to the Krakow Klub controlling the entire world.
The Krakow Klub Page 19