Full Blast

“Nothing, Chase. If they’re genuine, then they don’t have any recognizable remit.”

“Well, we need to find out. Jesus, Rod, you work for the fucking CIA. You run a covert black-ops section with carte blanche independence. Right now I am not exactly impressed by its competence. I brought you on board because we’ve worked together in the past and you think along the same lines as I do. Rod, wake up. I can’t afford any slip ups. It’s a damn good thing my people have these Justice agents under observation.”

McAdam didn’t even flinch. He swirled the liquid in his glass.

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had Khalli about to stage a comeback in Baghdad. Call the Agency all you want, Chase, but it was me who got you your info on Khalli. I found where he was in hiding. I got to him and delivered him. So get off my back. And don’t think I’m trying to score points, but how’s the search for Sergeant Jacobi coming along?”

Gardener smiled. “Good one, Rod. We’re still looking. He’s been shut out from making contact with anyone. The man is alone with no one to turn to. We’ll get to him. Only a matter of time.”

“Unless he finds someone who’ll listen to him.”

“He isn’t going to find a sympathetic ear in that direction. The word has been circulated. I’m using up favors on Jacobi. Sooner or later, he’s ours.”

“Let’s hope sooner.”

Gardener inclined his head in agreement.

“Rod, your room is made up as usual. Go catch some sleep. You look like you need it. I’ll see you at dinner. The others will be here by then. Plenty of time to talk then.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I could do with some sleep. It’s been a busy few days and flying always knocks me sideways.”

Gardener chuckled to himself as McAdam left the room. The man had only flown in from Langley. Over the past few days Gardener had traveled all the way to Turkey and back, with no more than a few hours’ sleep from start to finish.

Rod McAdam, CIA, was an important part of Gardener’s group. The man had contacts all over. He had undercover people in place across the Middle East. The former Soviet Union. It was hard to put a finger on places where he didn’t have people. His position within the Agency meant that he controlled a large number of operatives and his long standing in black-ops meant much of his control was only known to himself. He was able to intercept and divert, even cancel out information that might point the finger at Gardener and his group. McAdam was an opportunist, tired of his profession and looking for a way out. His tie-up with Gardener meant he would be able to walk away from the Agency with a payoff far in excess of anything the CIA could have provided. The trouble with McAdam was his eternal pessimism. He let himself get wearisome and there were times when Gardener could have allowed himself to lose it with the man. He always checked himself. Bawling McAdam out would prove to be a negative action and Gardener needed the man’s access to information.

“WHEN WE ENTERED into this we all knew what we were doing. It was and still is a regrettable decision. But it has to be done because the current situation demands it.”

Gardener glanced around the room. He saw no evidence of disapproval.

“Andy, how are your people shaping up?” he asked an Air Force major.

“I have over thirty percent of my command behind me. The ones who matter. I realize that still leaves a sizeable group who refuse to join us. I have them confined to the base under guard and I have that locked down until further notice.”

“It’s a pity we have to do that,” Gardener said. “This is still a democracy and those people have their rights. But we’ll just have to ignore those rights until this situation is stabilized. After that they can make their final choices.”

Ralph Justin leaned forward. “A question.”

“Ralph?”

“I understand you are communicating between yourselves. How is it no one is picking up your transmissions? Just remember, I’m a plain old civilian.”

“It’s a good question and deserves an answer,” Gardener said. “Murphy, you want to explain.”

Lieutenant Harlan Murphy, a communications officer from Gardener’s command, nodded.

“We’re using one of the Gardener Global satellites. It’s out of the military loop and anything going via that satellite is on an encrypted secure channel. We use simple phrases to authenticate who we are to one another. No reason for anyone to even break into our transmissions.”

“Haven’t I read somewhere that no form of communication is entirely safe from eavesdroppers? Aren’t there listening devices in orbit?”

Murphy smiled. “Quite correct, Senator. Listening programs are getting even more sophisticated every day. But they are far from fully perfected yet. Even the Echelon system, as good as it is, has a hell of a lot to deal with. The sheer amount of electronic traffic it has to filter is phenomenal. It can’t get everything. And we make certain that all our conversations are limited to a vocabulary that avoids code words or links Echelon might recognize.”

“And does that make us safe?”

“Hopefully for as long as we are going to need to be safe,” Gardener said. “I understand your concern and the logic behind it. To answer your last question, and I believe Murphy will back me on this, we are vulnerable to a degree. But every gamble has its downside. As far as we are concerned, communication between our units is vital. So we take the chance. And don’t worry about Gardener Global. The people running the communications are not going to be a problem.”

“So how ready are we?” the senator asked.

“We have equipment and personnel in place, so we’re ready to go. The first objective will be to detain the President during his trip to Bucklow.”

“Easier for you than trying to deal with him in the White House.”

“Just one of those tricks of fate,” Gardener said. “Out of the blue he sets up this trip to visit the site and talk with the survivors. We couldn’t turn down an opportunity like that.”

“Resistance?” Justin asked. “You must have considered it.”

“Of course. It may be necessary for us to engage in combat with units still loyal to the current administration. Casualties will be regrettable if they refuse to surrender.”

“Killing our own isn’t the best way to engender public sympathy.”

Gardener turned to face the senator.

“Show me an alternative, Ralph, and I’ll use it. If not, I can’t afford to go soft over those who choose to resist. Someone is going to get hurt. Possibly on our side, too, but even though I understand that, I have to accept the losses.”

“What about my fellow government representatives?” Justin asked.

“Same goes for them. They take it on board. If they don’t, they’re against us.”

“Chase, we’re going to need those people.”

“Agreed. I don’t see a major problem. Ralph, you of anyone in this room should understand the way the people on the hill work. They fight with words, not guns. I don’t believe we’ll be facing a bunch of Congressmen armed with M-16s, or at best skeet guns.”

Justin smiled at the image. “Interesting thought, but I’m sure you are right.”

“Ralph, that’s where you will come into your own. You’ve never hidden your opinions about the way the administration has been running the country, or its handling of Iraq since the war. Truth be told, there are enough like-minded on the hill for you to swing the whole damn herd your way. Once we have their backing, we’re on even firmer ground.”

“Sounds wonderful in theory. But we both know it might not run uphill the way we want.”

“Oh, hell, Ralph, you’ll have my people backing you. Don’t forget that. There’ll be a lot of yelling and stamping of feet, but once the dust dies down and they see what we’ve done…”

“Taking control of key installations? Power, water, broadcasting? Your men at the major airports and seaports?”

“We move fast and we move hard. With the top men of the joint military command secured in detention who gives the orders? We do. We deploy and we stand fast. The President is moved out of office and I make my national broadcast. I explain what we’re doing and why. The American public wants something done. Too many of our people are dying out there in Iraq. That needs to stop. They’re tired of the loss of life. The drain on America’s resources. We come out of this with right on our side. Plus our hand on the Iraqi oilfields. Getting control of those would be one hell of a plus in our favor.”

Senator Justin picked up the pot and refilled his coffee cup. He sat back and took time to listen as the tight group of men discussed the upcoming takeover of the American government. He saw the earnest looks on their faces, the calm tone of their voices, and he saw that they were fully committed to what they proposed to do. They viewed their actions as necessary. Something that America needed to stay the most powerful nation on Earth, and they were prepared to stand against the elected government and the President of the United States to carry their project through.

Ralph Justin was with them. He had to be because he walked the same path and held the same reasoning. There was a need to protect their own interests, both political and business.

There was a need to get America back on track, to show that the country still had a grip on sanity in a world that was on the slide. The Iraq situation was one example of good intentions turning sour. The country, far from stepping into the light, had backtracked and was being plagued by insurgent terrorist groups who struck where and when they wanted. By indecision and a lack of consolidation. Razan Khariza was back from the wilderness, engaging in all kinds of subversion. Doing his damnedest to move back into the power position within the country. The actions of Khariza and his group, trawling in sympathizers from all over the place and setting them free to kill and destroy, had all the earmarks of an attempted return to the old ways.