The Last Enemy - Parts 1,2 & 3 - 1934-2054
Page 62
Chapter 16
As Charles entered the studio of his Long Island mansion, his videowall automatically tuned in to the early morning CNBC news report. The anchorwoman was commenting on the latest polls, that forecasted a landslide victory for the Democrats in the Presidential election happening in two weeks.
Holographic projectors appeared on his desk, showing all the incoming emails. He was halfway in his morning routine, when an unknown call came in. He usually rejected these types of calls, except this time an email from an anonymous sender simultaneously popped up on the screen. The subject read, “Pick it up.”
Charles answered and he immediately recognized the voice of Skip, who was excited beyond imagination.
“Heeelloooo, Charles, I suggest you ditch the ordinary news and listen up. The most important bit won’t be there. I will keep running all the intelligence agencies, directly reporting to the President.”
Charles was astonished. As much as he needed Skip to keep his place to safeguard his company’s government business, he could not believe that Stuart Strickland, the Democrat candidate, could afford to keep a person like Skip in such a role.
“Skip, are you sure? Apart from beating J.Edgar Hoover’s record in office, how do you think that Strickland can justify this with his voters? He has made a pledge to change all the Moreno policies of the past eight years, starting from the federal ban on Telomerax, and he would keep you where you are? Are you blackmailing him with some juicy scandal?”
“Not at all,” Skip replied cheerfully, “Fact is, I am just a simple civil servant after all, I only have to make sure that the policies decided by our Presidents and Congressmen are implemented in the most effective way. It was not me who addressed Congress nine years ago to ban Telomerax. Neither was it my idea to bury Benedict XVII in Washington National Cathedral, just to make the point that the late Pope was more American than Catholic, and all the other bullshit that wreaked havoc with our NATO allies and sent our financial system and economy into mayhem again.”
“In other words,” Charles said, “you persuaded Strickland and his staff that the situation is so bad that they cannot afford any discontinuity in such a crucial place like yours?”
“Exactly,” Skip chirped, “and by the way, it’s nothing new. The same thing happened when Obama took office back in 2008. He left the Bush-era Secretary of Defense and CIA director in place for a while. Let’s face it, our country is practically on the edge of a second civil war. How else would you describe it? Just look at what happened this summer past in San Diego, or what the governor of Oregon is saying.”
Charles, like any other American, remembered all too well. In July, drug gangs had seized control of the Mexican border and large parts of the San Diego metropolitan area to smuggle to California the biggest Telomerax shipping ever, a convoy of sixteen trucks worth thirty-five billion dollars on the market. It took the National Guard and the US Army seven days of fighting and more than one thousand casualties to get the city back under control. In most Southern cities and in many neighborhoods of the inner cities the night curfew was now the rule. In this climate, Edward Wu, the governor of Oregon, and a Democrat like Strickland, had called for a state referendum to secede from the Union, with many other states ready to follow suit.
“Strickland will let states do what they want with Telomerax, just like we did with weed twenty years ago. Then the new President can just hope that the move reduces the level of violence and gets the economy back on track after the shocks of the last years.” Skip continued his monologue, “once money and security are restored for most Americans, all the mambo-jambo about secession will stop. Obviously he has to keep America out of any dangerous foreign matters, like meddling with Russia and China. He understands this very clearly. Throughout the entire campaign, he repeated several times that he will definitely pull out of the Middle East, given our energy independency, and forget all about the Saudis and the deal that Roosevelt made with them about one-hundred years ago. This is history now.”
“Alright, Skip, I have heard that several times,” Charles interrupted him, “I am now busy creating a business plan for next year, considering that government demand for Telomerax detectors and skin chips will drop, and I have investors to please. True, we are building parts for the combat exoskeletons, and we see demand for that growing, but I am still missing several billions of sales over the next few years.”
“Charles, we have known each other for many years and you still think I am so selfish as to not think about my long term friends? That’s upsetting. You still have some things to learn about me,” Skip rebuked and continued, “Our security spending won’t go down. It’s all about restoring confidence and security, I told you.”
“Yeah, restoring confidence and security while keeping your agency power untouched,” Charles thought, and then he replied.
“That’s why we are increasing the plan for the exoskeleton production for the Army and the various police corps, but this won’t be enough to compensate for..”
“Forget the exoskeletons, what about the flies?” Skip’s voice suddenly turned harsh, “We need lots of them. Hundreds of thousands. Maybe even millions.”
Charles paused in disbelief. BioGuard engineers had just completed the first production line, yet they were nowhere near that capacity. However, Charles thought, such sales would easily allow BioGuard to meet its revenue growth targets up until 2040.
“Skip, are you kidding me?” Charles tone was at the same time submissive and inquisitive, “It would take us three to five years to produce that amount. Up till now you have been buying a few hundred per year. And what for?”
“You have to fix that,” Skip was now definitely upset, “if you cannot do it alone, just ask the Israelis again. The reason is always the same, we have to defend our country from all threats, both external and, even more, internal. I will call you back in three weeks and I need to see a solid plan.” Skip hung up.
Charles looked at the clock, which showed 6:45 AM. His director of West Coast manufacturing was still asleep. Since he had no time to waste, he looked through his contact list and dialed the third, nameless, Tel Aviv mobile phone number.