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When he returned, he sat across from Gardener and gave him an update on his call to his team.
“We have those two Justice agents under observation, General. I’ve had a standby team watching the senator. Purely as a security precaution. When those men appeared at his office and then his house, the team put a tail on them, so we might not know who they are, but we sure as hell know where they are. Hope I haven’t overstepped my authority, General.”
“Renelli, when something like this happens I realize I couldn’t have made a better choice. We have to watch for any moves from people like these Justice people. If you hadn’t seen fit to cover the senator, who by the way doesn’t need to know about our surveillance, then we would not have these people under our watch. Good work, son. Keep it up.”
Gardener nodded, satisfied that he had the situation under control. He knew, come the day, that he could always depend on his own people.
They were his people and they would die proving it. What more could a commander ask?
Rick Renelli had been in Gardener’s command for more than eight years. He had been a good soldier. But Renelli’s problem had been his overenthusiasm and that eagerness to please had proved his undoing. During a covert operation, Renelli had allowed his forceful attitude to kick the rule book out the window. The end result had been the death of three men in his squad and his superior officer badly wounded. On their return stateside Renelli had been accused, tried and discharged from the service.
Two weeks after that he had been contacted and advised that someone had a job for him. A night flight had delivered Renelli to the Gardener ranch in New Mexico and a meeting with his former commander. Gardener had bawled out Renelli big-time, angry at the way he had wasted his military career over a moment of laxity. The dressing down hadn’t been so much for the actual misdemeanor, more for the fact that Renelli hadn’t managed to extricate himself from the charges. The moment the shouting was over, Gardener sat Renelli down for a meal and offered him a position in the clandestine group he was forming to spearhead his planned coup against the U.S. government and the planting of a Gardener man within the Iraqi government, one who while steering the country toward a new democracy would also smooth the way for Gardener and his global enterprise. As far as Gardener was concerned, the U.S. had to maintain a strong grip on the Iraqi oil deposits. They were vitally important given the way the world was moving. America’s strength depended on its military machine and the industrial power base that served it. Allowing that to slide would leave America open to both internal and external threats.
The current administration, with its low-key polices and too much appeasement, was betraying the U.S., opening the gates to allow America’s detractors to gain ground, and showing a weaker face to the world in general. Chase Gardener had the vision to push America back to the top, his policy one of standing hard against the people trying to hold it back. Renelli, a man who had previously seen the way Gardener performed, had no argument with the man. He was a soldier, eager to serve under his old commander, and he’d accepted Gardener’s offer the moment it was laid in front of him.
While Gardener had his service people and contacts already lining up behind him, there was going to be a need for something off-the-books, a force that could stay away from the military machine as such, while carrying out Gardener’s covert operations with the least possible hindrance. Renelli, a combat veteran, was a natural. He could run the covert team, funded through one of Gardener’s many financial outlets, without having to concern himself with military protocol. Once the operation moved into gear, time would be a vital consideration. One of Renelli’s responsibilities would be unforeseen events. Incidents that might, if left to run unchecked, create difficulties for the main body of the operation. Gardener had explained from the start that due to the fluidity of the Iraq situation and the homeland operation, which would require the ability to be changed at a moment’s notice, he—Renelli—would need to be able to operate within that kind of environment. Renelli saw no problems there.
Before dawn the next day Gardener and Renelli had drawn up a list of names of men, all ex-military, who were to be approached. The offer would be similar to what Renelli had been made. The men were to be recruited to be part of Renelli’s team. Answerable to him initially, but with Gardener as their ultimate commander. The team was to be provided with anything it needed. Money was no object. Gardener had the ability to procure weapons that could be concealed via judicious juggling of orders and needs. Renelli’s team would be paid for by Gardener Global and equipped in part by the U.S. government.
The scheme had been running smoothly until Luke Jacobi had stumbled in on something he would have been better to have left alone. That hadn’t happened. A little ball-fumbling had allowed Jacobi to walk out free and clear. Gardener wanted retrieval before Jacobi passed that ball to someone who might run with it.
A LITTLE WHILE LATER Gardener received a call from McAdam himself.
“If this is about the senator, I already know.”
McAdam grunted his acknowledgment.
“We’re working on it.”
“Rod, I have my own people on it. The matter is well covered.”
“Fine. That wasn’t the main reason I called,” the CIA man said.
“So?”
“My contact at the White House has just confirmed what we talked about yesterday. Time and date as previously suggested.”
“Good news, Rod. And your other reason for calling?”
“They picked up Lane in Chechnya. Word just came through. He’d gone looking for that camp Dushinov is said to have running to train Khariza’s crew. Some local agreed to guide him in, but they were caught. The local ended up near skinned to the bone. Dushinov’s men took Lane. That’s all I know right now.”
“Did Lane pass anything back before he was captured?”
“No. I hadn’t heard from him for a few days. Last report said he had a line on something, but he couldn’t give it a name yet.”
“Can you get anyone else into the area to try to extract Lane?”
“Not likely. Our station man said the locals have shut down. He can’t get anyone to help him after what happened to Lane’s guide. This rebel, Dushinov, has the territory out there pretty well under his heel. The guy has kicked the Russians out of his backyard for Christ’s sake. He’s a scary mother.”
Gardener leaned his head against the backrest of his seat, staring up at the curved ceiling of the cabin.
“Chase, you still there?”
“Just thinking. If we can’t get to Lane, then all we can do is hope he keeps his mouth shut. Call me sentimental, but I hope he dies quick. If he starts to get a loose tongue, it could have repercussions. Rod, I’ll be back at the ranch late tonight. Fly out and we’ll have our talk. The senator will be joining us for the weekend.”
“I already had the same thought about Lane,” McAdam said. “I’ll see what I can do about him. Don’t hold your breath for quick results. Talk to you later.”
Gardener closed the line. He experienced a moment of excitement at McAdam’s confirmation of the earlier news. It meant they were going to have to bring their move forward, but he found that stimulating. The sooner they embarked on their plan, the better. Too much waiting around could allow things to go wrong. He was taunted by the image of the man named Jacobi, one of his former soldiers. A man now on the run because he hadn’t gone along with Gardener’s plan and had then taken it a step further by doing some snooping on Gardener and his people and had actually got them on videotape. Gardener was trying to contain the matter, but the longer Jacobi remained on the loose, the greater the chance he might expose what was about to happen. Having to bring matters forward like this was going to eliminate potential disasters. He called Renelli to update him on the situation.
“Still leaves Jacobi on the loose, General. He could find someone and convince them to look at that damn tape. Word gets out, it would make it impossible for us to go ahead.” Renelli paused. “General, you don’t think those Justice agents have had contact with Jacobi? Maybe he got through to them and it’s why they’ve been doing some checking?”
It gave Gardener a moment’s concern.
“No, I don’t believe so. If Jacobi had told his story and played that tape, we would be locked down by now, wondering what day it was and where we were.”
“If that’s so, General, we’re still clear we need to move fast.”
“I agree. I was giving the problem some thought just before you called. So we can’t afford to leave Jacobi on the loose where he can do anything to harm us. Can we, Renelli?”
Chase Gardener Ranch—Present
GARDENER STOOD, turned away from the view with a certain reluctance and watched the CIA man crossing the floor. McAdam looked like someone carrying the troubles of the world across the shoulders.
“Good trip, Rod?”
“Nice to see we can keep our sense of humor,” McAdam said. There was a slight peevish edge to his words. He pointed to the tumbler in Gardener’s hand. “Mind if I have one of those?”
Gardener gestured to the liquor cabinet.
“Help yourself. The large tumblers are at the back.”
McAdam took him at his word and filled a tall glass. He took a long swallow then topped up his glass before he turned back to Gardener, who had made his way to his big oak desk. McAdam took one of the comfortable leather armchairs facing the desk.
There was a silence until Gardener waved his own tumbler as an opener.
“And?”
“I managed to get word to one of my people in the area. He’s going to try to get a line on Lane. No guarantees. That part of the world is hard to crack. Those Chechens are difficult to deal with. They still operate like the damn Mafia. My guy will do what he can.”
“What about these so-called Justice Department people? Who the hell are they?”
McAdam shrugged. He swallowed some of his drink.
“A shrug hardly impresses me, Rod.”
“What else can I say? Chase, I have trawled every damn database I can access. There isn’t a known intelligence agency in existence I haven’t looked at. These guys are so off the wall it isn’t true.”
“So who are they? Reporters from Sixty Minutes? Come on, Rod, there has to be something about them.”
“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.
