by Hunt, Jack
“How much you paying?”
“I’ll give you five thousand.”
“Five thousand? Forget it. I’m not going out on a limb for five thousand. People talk in this town. If this gets linked back to me, my business will be over.”
“Don’t you think I’ve thought of all that? You’ll be fine. I already have an alibi.”
Richard had arranged to meet him at a truck stop just north of Breckenridge. It was a greasy spoon diner that rarely saw anyone from the local area besides truckers and lot lizards doing their rounds. Richard stood out in his expensive suit and overpriced cologne.
Howard shook his head. “Twenty grand, and I want ten at the start and ten when it’s done.”
“Twenty grand? Are you out of your mind?”
“Hey, you’re lucky I don’t go to the city council and tell them about this.”
Richard stared back at him. “You know, Howard, I could make things real difficult for you. I would recommend you tread carefully.”
“Twenty grand or find someone else. Though I doubt you know anyone with my connections.”
Howard knew he had him. The fact was the only reason Richard knew Howard had connections in the sex trade was because he was screwing Elizabeth. At some point his name was dropped, and that sleaze tried to capitalize on it.
“Why him?” Howard asked.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Just curious.”
“Well keep your curiosity to yourself.”
“It’s just that I imagine your daughter isn’t going to like it. What did he do to you?”
Richard stared back at him and without missing a beat said, “Married my daughter.”
Howard burst out laughing and rocked back in his seat. He leaned forward and took a scoop of his apple pie and shoveled it away. “Underwood, you are one screwed up individual. Why don’t you tell her to leave him? Pay him off. Or better still just ignore him.”
“It’s not as easy as that.”
Howard shook his spoon at him. “I rarely see him around. Seems like that’s a good thing.”
“That’s the problem.”
They stared at each other and Howard broke into laughter. “You really are one twisted fuck. So, do we have a deal?”
“Twenty grand. I’ll drop off ten this week. But I want the video, you hear me? And if word gets out that I was behind it, I will burn you to the ground, do you understand?”
“Burn me to the ground. Yeah, I get it. Though I would like to see you do it.”
Richard leaned across the table. “You’re not the first and you won’t be the last. Just do the job, keep your mouth closed and you’ll be twenty grand better for it.”
He snorted as Richard looked down at the plate of food the waitress had given him. He pushed it away without taking a bite.
“You know, Richard, I figure that someone who is willing to pay twenty grand might be worth more.”
It was in that moment that he understood the real power behind Richard, and the reason why even after all these years he hadn’t crossed him. Without saying a word he gave a nod to something or someone over Howard’s shoulder and the bell above the café door let out a shrill. In walked a huge barrel-shaped individual in a leather jacket, with tattoos up the side of his neck. He sat down beside Howard, making him look small.
Richard leaned in. “I really hoped we didn’t have to go here but I figured you might pull something like that. Asking for twenty grand is a joke but I let that slide because I know you can get the job done, however, let me be very clear here. I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. We are not friends and once this is over we will not speak again about this event and if you do, not only will I burn your businesses to the ground but also you and my friend here will get acquainted. Do I make myself clear?”
Howard swallowed and cast a sideways glance. The guy looked as if he’d walked straight out of the prison yard.
“I’m cool with that.”
With that said Richard tossed down a few dollars on the table to cover their meals and left the café. And true to his word he showed up later that week with ten grand and green lit him for the night Sam would be at the bar.
Richard had arranged to have a meal with Sam, and a couple of drinks.
Elizabeth, desperate for cash and eager to earn herself a week’s worth of blow, had agreed to show up despite being an old friend of Sam’s. Howard remembered it like it was yesterday.
He stood outside the bar with Elizabeth and gave her the drug for his drink.
“Slip this into his drink, keep him happy, and leave the rest to me.”
“You know, Howard, I don’t like this.”
“Then I’ll have one of your pals do it. I’m sure they could use the money.”
He pulled out a bag of coke and hung it in the air like a carrot on the end of a stick. “I’m guessing you won’t want this either.”
Elizabeth snatched it out of his hand.
“That’s a good girl.” Howard looked through the window of the bar and restaurant. “Look, I know you like him but believe me when this is all over you will understand why it had to be done. Now go on in there, sway that ass of yours and make polite conversation. For old times’ sake.”
Richard left the bar, and glanced at Howard on the way out.
Howard gave him the thumbs-up before he slipped into his car and drove away.
From beyond the window he watched as Elizabeth entered with a group of friends and made eye contact with Sam. Plied with alcohol and pleased to see an old school friend, he was like putty in her hands. He had no idea what line of work she was in or the crazy coke habit she had. All he saw was an old friend wanting to have a drink.
It didn’t take long, less than ten minutes before she managed to drop the GHB into his drink. Seeing him unravel and give way to the drug coursing through his body was the best part. Her pals had been paid to carry him out of the bar to a waiting vehicle, which would take Sam and Elizabeth to a fifty dollar a night, bug-infested motel on the outskirts of Breckenridge. Clothes were removed, photos were taken and a video was put together.
In some ways Howard felt sorry for the guy. He didn’t care about his marriage but he understood what it was like to be manipulated by Richard Underwood. The guy was a leech on the skin of society, sucking it dry and serving no purpose.
That night Sam’s marriage was ruined. No man could have explained that video, or the photos of him chatting to Elizabeth in the bar.
And true to his word, Richard gave him the rest of his money.
But that wasn’t where it ended.
Howard should have known that Richard wouldn’t take the risk of having him drop his name as being the one behind it. It wasn’t long before his apartments were being shut down for code violations and a health inspector showed up at his store and slapped him with a hefty fine.
He knew Richard was behind it, trying to move him along, run him out of town but that wasn’t happening. Just like he wasn’t going to create new rules that would require the folks of Breckenridge to hand over their firearms. Sure it was just a rumor swirling around but he knew how Richard operated. It always started as a rumor.
“Howard. Howard!” Keith shouted, snapping him back into the present moment.
“What?”
“It’s done. Let’s go before someone shows up.”
He looked around at the devastation. Huge holes in the walls, spray paint covering every surface, carpets torn up, furniture rolled out into the backyard, windows smashed and Carl had even taken a piss in his kitchen.
As Howard backed out of there and melted into the tree line, returning to his vehicle on Ski Hill Road, he felt a great deal of satisfaction.
This was just the beginning.
Chapter 6
Juliet – 01 Launch Control Center
Nine miles west of Peetz, Colorado, seventy-five feet below ground in a nuclear bombproof bunker the size of a shipping container, Missileer 1st Lieutenant Mia Hart sat before
a communication system console nervously anticipating the warning order. Since the power had gone out across the country they’d been on high alert. She and one other member of the launch control crew had been living off a limited amount of food from topside. The emergency food below the floor was rarely used unless somehow they became locked behind two blast-proof doors.
The sound of an air-conditioning unit pumping cold air through the capsule dominated. Before the grid went down the whole system drew power from an outside source. They’d been running the diesel backup generator for the last ten days, and had only had one shift change since the event. Why? She’d still like to know that. They’d had little communication with higher-ups and something told them they wouldn’t know any more until the lights came back on. Working on rotating twenty-four hour shifts, three days a week inside that submarine style container, was hard enough on an ordinary day but that had only got worse with the attack on the country.
It didn’t help that all the equipment was dated, and many things were broken, like a few of the communication systems, and the tiny airplane sized toilet because there had been a recent leak and they hadn’t got around to getting it repaired.
Mia breathed in the musty smell of military-grade paint and stagnant air.
This was Mia’s first time being in the capsule.
“I swear once this is over I’m putting in a request to be posted somewhere else,” Mia said.
“Ah, you worry too much. Besides, look at it this way, you only have three years of doing this before you can go to another missile base and move on to become an instructor, or an evaluator. And if you make it through that, well the world is your oyster. Hell, you might even work with the test squadron in California or one of the NATO forces in Europe,” Lieutenant Douglas said. He was laying back on the single mattress trying to get some shuteye. There always had to be one person at the ready just in case enemy missiles were launched. In such an event they would only have minutes to fire back. “In the nine years I have been doing this job we have never once had to launch. You’ll soon get the hang of it.”
“We’re ten days into this and the power still isn’t up.”
“Came up this morning.”
“Yeah for all of ten minutes.”
“That’s a good sign,” Douglas said. “It means they’re working on it. Look at it this way, Mia. If the Russians wanted to nuke us they would have done it by now. They’ve had plenty of opportunities. I’m telling you this isn’t the Russians. Probably somewhere in some dank basement an IT guy is going to get his ass served to him on a platter for falling asleep on the job and hitting the wrong button. Happens all the time in my neighborhood. Do you know how many times the Internet and phone system goes down where I am?”
She shrugged, her eyes firmly fixed on the aged panels in front of her. Some were a light blue, and some were a pale military green. When she took the job, she imagined that the system would be high end. It was 2018 for goodness’ sakes. The world had advanced. The nuclear system hadn’t.
“Four times. I kid you not. It goes down once a week.”
“Your phone line?”
“Our phone is connected with our Internet so if that goes down, so does the landline.”
“You need a separate line.”
“That would have cost more.”
Mia chuckled. “What, twenty bucks?”
“Twenty is what they advertise. You got to look at the fine print, Mia. That’s where they get you. Oh, I’m sorry, sir. We forgot to tell you that there is a fee for connection, and a fee for buying us a keg on the weekend,” he said in a mocking tone. “You name it. They are notorious for their fees.”
“Change company.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Of course it is,” Mia said. She quickly changed the subject. “Douglas, doesn’t it freak you out that we have in our pockets computers the size of our hand with ten thousand times the computing power than these rusted industrial stacks in front of us?”
“Nope. Were you sleeping when they trained you? That computer in front of you not only handles the missiles but it is completely unhackable. No one knows the language of these machines, it isn’t connected to the Internet, unlike your cell phone.” He folded his arms behind his head and breathed in deeply. It was just another ordinary day on the job for him, and yet she was freaking out inside. Had the country’s grid not been down she might have taken it in stride but something wasn’t right about it and the powers that be weren’t saying what was going on. Contrary to what some thought, not everyone in the military knew what the left hand was doing. All of them knew just enough to do the job before them. They knew the risks but that’s what they signed up for; to serve and protect, and if push came to shove and she got that command she wouldn’t hesitate to turn the key.
She glanced at the box and went through the routine in her head of what they would do if they got the order. It would come through on paper on one of the ancient teletypewriters; she would then have to unlock a red box that contained the launch codes and two sets of keys. It had to match the incoming encrypted message otherwise they didn’t move ahead. If all were good, both of them would have to enter the launch code simultaneously on a panel in front of her and then get on a conference call with another squadron to make sure they had a valid launch order. If they got the go-ahead, two keys would be inserted and turned in unison, and the other launch crew would do the same on their end to launch the ten ICBMs from that launch facility.
They were one of forty-five launch facilities spread out over 10,000 square miles of remote ranch land and wind farms. She was one of ninety missilers sitting on alert ready to launch at command. The isolated post was a good two hours away from the Air Force base, three miles from the nearest silo, and nine from the furthest.
“Yeah but we also know there are still a couple ways for people to get control of these ICBMs,” Mia said.
“Oh please. No one is going to be stupid enough to go digging down for the HICS cabling. And if they do, it’s pneumatically pressurized with air and monitored by us. We’ll get an alert and security will head out.”
“By then it could be too late.”
He laughed. “We have motion detectors out there.”
“Not for the cabling. It spans across 10,000 square miles of farmland.”
Douglas cast a glance over at her for the first time in several hours.
Mia reached for the rotary phone. “Maybe I should call up, and…”
Above ground was a six-man alert response team responsible for the security of the ten missiles and responding to any sensor alerts from Mia or Douglas.
“Put the phone down, Mia. They are already stressed out enough as it is. All they need is for you to fill their head with illogical ideas. No one is going to be stupid enough to do that. And it’s debatable about whether or not it could be done.”
“Debatable? Not according to the former head of STRATCOM. He said that our nuclear missiles could be hacked, launched and detonated without authorization. And he said that there were only two realities in today’s world, either you’ve been hacked and won’t admit it, or you’re being hacked and you don’t know yet.”
Douglas swung his legs off the bed and got this serious look on his face. “When I was told I was getting someone new down here I didn’t expect them to send someone who would question every goddamn thing. Enough, lieutenant.”
“I wouldn’t be questioning if the country’s grid wasn’t down and we had received a shift change in the past four days. There are thousands of lives on the line here.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
She looked back at her console. “We have 450 missiles online. It doesn’t take much to launch them. I’m just saying, taking these missiles offline and removing the warheads would help. It would only take a couple of hours to get them ready but at least that way no one could launch them by mistake and hackers couldn’t gain access.”
“Sounds good in theory except there
is a major flaw in what you just said. What if Russia or one of the other countries decided to fire upon the USA? Huh? It would take only thirty minutes for an ICBM to arrive in the USA from Russia. Right now we can fire back within minutes. Besides, it’s not like we can do anything about it. We are just the trigger team. That’s it.”
Mia shook her head. She had a five-year-old son at home with her husband. She loved her country and would do anything to protect it but even she was starting to have doubts about the situation they were in.
“But it wouldn’t be the first time things went wrong. I’m just saying.”
He scoffed. “That was back in 2010 and it wasn’t a hack. It was a temporary interruption with our ability to monitor them. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Losing contact with fifty Minuteman III’s I would say is a big deal.”
She recalled it hitting the news long after it had been rectified. No one knew if the enemy was trying to disable or launch the missiles. It threw Global Strike Command into a state of panic.
“Mia, this whole command system was designed back in the ’60s and ’70s. What do you expect? Things break down. Turns out it was just an improperly installed circuit card. And I might add if it wasn’t for that, we wouldn’t know about the vulnerabilities.”
She caught him by his own words.
“So you admit there are vulnerabilities.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you alluded to it.”
He shook his head. “After this is over. I’m going to be having words with the higher-ups. I don’t think you’re fit for this job.”
“What, because I’m a woman?”
“No. Because you’re annoying,” he said rolling back over and pulling the red blackout curtain across so he didn’t have to converse with her. But she wasn’t done. She turned in her seat and yanked it open.
“Surely you must be worried. It’s been ten days.”
He groaned. “Mia, seriously, give me a break. I want to get some sleep.”
She got up and paced, keeping an eye on the console. She couldn’t drop her guard for even a minute.