“Cut the crap. I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want that damned island neutralized, and the people on it taken into custody. I wouldn’t care if they were killed, but I’d like to get information out of them first. Then, they’re dead. I want them DEAD, DEAD, DEAD!”
“Erik, you must relax. A man of your age can damage his health with such outbursts. Save your energy for something important, like taking me to dinner.”
As Erik continued to fume, Eleven realized that Stoellar was close to completely losing it. He had been so fanatical about taking over the government that he had lost touch with reality. She had suspected that he was becoming unstable, and his current state of agitation surely seemed to prove it.
Eleven knew that she was certainly the cleverest member of the group and likely the richest. She could hold her own in any situation, but she was also very, very patient. She had always figured that at some time in the future, just when it was least suspected, she would eliminate the others in the Krakow Klub leaving just herself and Stoellar. Now, it looked as if she would have to eliminate Stoellar as well. Then, she would take over. She would have the ultimate power. She would control the world. What a lovely thought, indeed.
As she ended the call and hung up, she thought, Too bad about Stoellar; he was often rather amusing in an odd sort of way.
****
Henry Wilkinson dressed himself in what remained of his clothes. His shirt was in shreds and scorched in several places. His pants weren’t much better. All in all, he looked a fright.
Looking into the mirror in his bathroom, he thought, So much for the dignity of the office.
Nevertheless, he stood tall and tried to look as presidential as possible under the circumstances. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to get it into some order.
Then, slowly, he reached inside his shirt and pulled out the small device that he always wore on a chain around his neck. He raised the little device ceremoniously and depressed a button in the center. The device, he knew, would transmit an emergency signal to the Secret Service agents who must be just outside the door. They would burst in, guns drawn, and escort him from his hospital room and back to the White House immediately.
Nothing happened. Silence! No pounding of feet running down the hall. Nothing!
Perhaps the transmitter had been damaged in the explosion. Wilkinson decided to find his own way out. He had never been particularly brave, but today, he would show the world that he was up to this challenge.
He walked to the door of his perfectly equipped hospital room and opened it cautiously. He was surprised to see a small vehicle, resembling a golf cart, parked outside in the hallway. There were no wheels; that was certainly strange. Nevertheless, he took a seat and much to his surprise; the craft began to move very smoothly down the corridor.
After only about a minute, the little craft slowed to a stop before another door. Wilkinson stepped out and walked hesitantly toward the door. As he neared it, it opened slowly. He entered, and the door closed immediately behind him. He jumped in surprise.
The situation was indeed peculiar. He began to feel a twinge of fear. He examined the door closely, but there appeared to be no means of reopening it. It seemed to be tightly sealed. He was in a small, empty room that appeared to be a foyer. The walls were some type of shiny material, and he could see his reflection being morphed gently from one shape to another. It was most unnerving.
Directly in front of him was a second, much larger door, again sealed, with no apparent means of opening it. He approached it slowly, his shoes making no sound on the polished, reflective flooring.
This door went from the floor to the ceiling of the room and was about eight feet across. What could require such a massive door? Then, he noticed it. A small red button positioned on the right side of the door. He stretched out his index finger toward the button, hesitated, and then drew his hand back.
Thinking to himself, “Why should I be afraid? What could be behind that door that could harm me? After all, I am the president of the United States, the most powerful person on the planet.”
He straightened his shoulders, reached out, and firmly pressed the button. The giant door slid open soundlessly.
He stumbled backward in shock. There, before him, was Earth, partially lit by the sun—a spectacular sight! The deep blue of the oceans and the contrasting land masses were stunning. It almost took his breath away.
As he struggled to catch his breath, he thought that he would have another heart attack. But the view held him in its grip. It was so beautiful to behold from such a distance. Three-quarters of the planet was lit by the sun with the remaining quarter still visible in the soft umbra. He had seen NASA photographs, but this was incomparable. It was no photograph. It was Earth from a million miles out in space.
Suddenly his bewilderment was shattered by a voice seemingly coming from everywhere at once. “Mr. President, would you like to reconsider my offer at this time?”
Henry Wilkinson dropped to his knees; his hands were trembling. The air of authority now totally gone from him. “Dear God, he mumbled, where am I?”
The voice said, “Get back on the transporter, and it will bring you to me. Don’t worry, sir. Everything will be okay. You are in no danger here. I am your friend, and I only want to help you.”
Wilkinson rose and started towards the door. Suddenly, he stumbled again and fell to one knee. Shaking, he wrested himself up and the door opened before him. He got into the transporter. It immediately started moving. He realized it was taking him to his new master. He resigned himself to the fact that he was totally under the control of this man, John Scott, whoever, or whatever the hell he was.
****
Number Eleven was most upset. Things were not going according to plan, and she sensed impending disaster. She realized that someone had been able to penetrate their secure communication system. How could that be?
She went over all the possibilities. The secure satellite phones could not possibly have been compromised; they used the world’s most secure communications system.
What about their computers? As with the phones, they were impossible to hack. Her associates in China had made sure of that.
What other possibility was there? Someone was gathering information on the organization, and it was imperative that she determine the source of that leak.
She knew of only one person that might help her: Dr. Hiram Wu, a professor of electrical engineering at Stanford University. Someone seemed to know every move that the Krakow Klub was making, and they had to be getting that information from someone within the organization. If anyone could figure it out, it would be Wu.
There was little left for her to do in Key West. At this point, finding the leak was far more important than finding Dr. Jim Slater.
She called her pilot and ordered him to file a flight plan to San Jose, California, immediately. They would take off as soon as she got to the airport. During the flight, she called Dr. Wu on her satellite phone. He was a member of her inner circle and owed her many favors, not to mention his prestigious position at the university.
“Hiram, I’m sorry to be calling you so early in the morning, but I need your help, and it’s urgent.”
She proceeded to relate the circumstances, but not the content, of how information was being gathered in some clandestine manner by persons unknown. After several minutes of exchange, Dr. Wu suggested that there might be a device planted on her person. Didn’t she ever watch American TV?
She thought for a moment before replying that it would be highly unlikely. She had changed clothes frequently and never wore the same thing twice in a row. Same with her shoes, coat, and jewelry. Also, she scanned her residences frequently for electronic bugs.
Wu then suggested that, somehow, a microscopic transmitter could have been implanted on or in her body. Had she had a recent physical examination? What about immunizations? Dental work? A tattoo? Anything at all that could have provided an opportunity for a devic
e to be planted?
Dr. Wu suggested that she meet him at the nearby California Center for Imaging as soon as she arrived. He had been part of a team evaluating a new German scanning device that would put all the others on the market to shame. Forget MRIs. Forget PET scans. This new device was the stuff that radiologists dreamed about using.
A few hours later, Number Eleven arrived at the imaging center and was directed to the laboratory where Dr. Wu and his associate, Dr. Shin Lin Cheong, awaited her. The two proudly showed off a dazzling piece of new equipment and assured her that, if anything had been implanted in her body, the scanner would detect it. And best of all, there would be no records made of the studies. Since it was strictly a research project, no one would ever know that she had set foot in the place.
After undressing and putting on a disposable gown, she was instructed to lie on the flat metal table at the front of the scanner. She must lie completely still during the entire process. She had had an MRI before and hated it. But, she had composed herself and taken it. This thing surely couldn’t be any worse than an MRI.
Surprisingly, there was no sound at all, as she moved slowly through the scanner. How nice!
As her entire body was scanned, the two doctors huddled over the monitors looking for anything that might suggest an implanted device. She could not hear their conversation, as they began to point to a particular section of the scan and speak animatedly in Mandarin.
After the massive machine had completed the scan, she was instructed to get dressed and wait for Cheong and Wu in the office next door. They would have confirmed their findings within a few minutes and would give her a verbal report.
Eleven dressed and was opening the door to Dr. Cheong’s office in less than three minutes.
Dr. Cheong directed her to a seat in front of the massive array of scans that had just been performed. They began at the lower extremities and worked toward her head slowly. Every few seconds, they paused the screening and looked carefully at some tiny part of the image.
Nothing was detected throughout her entire body until they reached the head. The three-dimensional view of her head showed every minute detail. It was quite eerie. Then, a short beep sounded, and the screen was automatically centered on the top center of her head. There, a tiny artifact could be seen.
Cheong enhanced the image and enlarged the view. Indeed, a tiny dark object was visible at the top of her skull. Both doctors leaned forward and intensely studied the object for several minutes.
To her, it looked like an insignificant dark speck. To them, it was the prize they had been seeking.
As they chattered on, gesticulating frantically, she became more and more annoyed.
“Okay, I want to know what that is! Tell me right now!”
Dr. Wu bowed slightly in her direction and apologized. “I think that we have detected something very unusual. This dark speck that you see could be a microscopic transmitter. If so, it is much more advanced than anything I have ever seen. Nothing even close to its microscopic size is known to be currently available today.”
Dr. Cheong added, “It seems that the device was inserted just beneath your scalp in front of the coronal suture. I think that we can extract it quite readily with a large bore needle and syringe. I can direct the needle to the precise site of the device using a radiological image. There will be little if any pain associated with the extraction, but I can give you a local if it would make you feel better.”
“Forget the local. Let’s get this over. And, after you get that damn thing out of my head, I need you to figure out exactly where it came from and who might have put it there.”
Thirty minutes later, the device had been successfully extracted. Eleven reached up and touched the top of her head. There wasn’t even a bump to show she had had the procedure. Perfect.
Eleven spoke directly to Dr. Wu, “Take the thing to your lab and study it carefully. Call me as soon as you figure out what the hell that thing is.”
She glared at Wu, saying, “This operation is to remain secret. If word of this gets out, I will know. Do we understand each other?”
With that, she whirled and trotted out the main entrance to the limo that had been waiting for her. Within minutes, she was back at the airport and boarding her plane.
Wu called a colleague at the university and asked a favor of him. He explained that he was involved in a top secret study for a major electronics company and that he needed access to an electron microscope. He asked, humbly, of course, if the scientist could do the scan for him.
The associate was more than happy to assist Dr. Wu since he had been most helpful to him in the past. He knew that vast amounts of grant money would be at stake and that he would likely be sworn to absolute secrecy.
After ending the call, Dr. Wu rushed to the research laboratory where his fellow scientist performed the scanning procedure while they both waited anxiously for the result.
****
John had already ordered another chair for the president before he arrived in the control room.
The door opened, and an obviously shaken and deflated individual made a very un-presidential entry into the control room.
John extended is hand, “Welcome Mr. President. Please, take a seat right here. We have much to discuss.”
The president wearily fell into the chair. He was still rather pale, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. His tattered clothing smelled of smoke and gasoline.
John reached out and patted him on the shoulder, “Mr. President, you are safe now. No harm will come to you. You’ve had a substantial shock, but you’ll be just fine. Besides that, I have some good news for you. That quack, the White House physician who was appointed by your predecessor, is associated with the Krakow Klub. And, of course, so was the former president.
“Dr. Newton has deceived you from the beginning. Your heart is completely healthy and always was. I’ve had a complete battery of tests run since you’ve been here.
“It seems that Dr. Newton was a long time pawn of the Krakow Klub. They put him through medical school and arranged for his commission in the Navy. He is on their payroll, and for whatever reason, they instructed him to diagnose you with a serious heart problem way back when you were first nominated for vice president. All your medical records have been faked to reflect the supposed heart condition.
“The medications that you were taking had nothing to do with your heart. In fact, a couple of them were just placebos. The primary one, that little blue capsule, was a rather clever innovation by the Krakow Klub. One of their research scientists at Athena Pharmaceuticals came up with that little formulation just for you.
“The medication is a modification of one of their more popular antidepressants. However, the formulation was adjusted so that you were susceptible to suggestion. No, you weren’t taking a happy pill. You were taking a pill that made you agreeable to whatever Newton and his higher ups wanted from you.
“Erik Stoellar was never your friend. He pulled you into his plot very carefully over many years. You’ve been an unwitting and unwilling pawn in his scheme. But that’s over as of today.
“Oh, by the way, remember that new medication that Dr. Newton gave you the night before your heart attack in the Oval Office? Well, that medication was to make you dizzy and disoriented. Then, remember that injection that he gave you before that mad dash to Bethesda? That caused a severe dysrhythmia that was almost fatal.
“You’re quite lucky. The bastard would have given you a final injection just as you were being carried into the hospital. That one would have been deadly. In just a few seconds, you’d have been a goner.
“There is something puzzling me. Normally, Newton as White House physician would have ridden in the ambulance with you. For some reason, he ordered the other doc to attend you en route. I’ve come to believe that Newton had a suspicion or premonition that there might be foul play on the way to the medical center. If so, he’s going to be very frightened. He will surely know that he should have been t
he one incinerated instead of his innocent colleague. By the way, that colleague, Dr. Allen I believe, was also saved from that inferno. He is currently doing well and is safely in our hands. The world thinks that you’re both dead.”
The president was stunned. This day was becoming more and more unreal. He shook his head in disbelief and tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
“Yes, Mr. President, you have been betrayed, as have we all. But, that’s in the past. We have a job to do, and you are needed to play an essential role in wresting our nation away from these psychopaths.”
John directed his attention to the large screen in front of him. The screen immediately lit up with the recorded scene of the fiery crash of the white van into the ambulance. As the scene unfolded, John described the planning, organization, and perfect timing required to orchestrate such an event successfully.
Henry Wilkinson watched the scene with a horrified look on his face. His voice shook. “How could you have possibly saved me from that inferno?”
“Mr. President, there is much that I will tell you and much that you need to know. But, for now, time is of the essence. You must grasp the extreme seriousness of the situation. Our nation is in a dire crisis. The most powerful nation on the planet has been brought to its knees.
“It’s only one day after your so-called assassination, but the Krakow Klub is moving rapidly toward the completion of their coup. They plan to overthrow the government and are ready, willing, and able, to kill anyone who might stand in their way. We have no time to waste. You must pull yourself together and trust that I have the best interests of the United States at heart.
“I have the resources and power to defeat this organization, but it won’t be easy. The blood of many innocent Americans could be lost in the process if we’re not extremely careful. But, we have no choice. We must control this evil before it devours our government and then spreads throughout the world like an uncontrolled malignancy.”
The president straightened his shoulders, and John noted a new look on his face. There appeared a steely determination. His eyes narrowed and focused on John.
The Krakow Klub Page 27