The Return of Elliott Eastman (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The following morning Eddie downloaded and printed Elliott’s letter.

Dear Senator Graham,

Please listen to the conversation on the enclosed disk. Once you have listened to it, please be aware that we have an identical copy. We know it was Arnold ‘Doc’ Hastings who set up the meeting at the behest of a number of banks. Please understand it is not our intention to do anything with the disk. We will be expecting you to vote with an affirmative on Senate Bill 1190. If you do not vote accordingly our copy will be hand-delivered to the Justice Department.
Thank you.

A similar letter was attached in a second e-mail, but with the names Doc Hastings and Senator Graham reversed.

Elliott sent a third e-mail asking Eddie to make copies of the letters and the tapes; one set to be delivered to Graham and the other to Hastings as soon as possible. Eddie smiled. “You’re one smart chap, Mr. Eastman.”

Elliott wasn’t going to send the information to the Justice Department and have Graham removed from office just so another money grubber could take his place. No, he was going to leave Graham in place, but require his vote. Elliott was also going to put Hastings on notice thereby drying up a major source of funding for the good senator. It was blackmail pure and simple and yet could it truly be considered a crime if it prevented a crime, prevented a vote from being bought by the big buck banking companies? Eddie knew the way he felt about it. Right is right. The courts might rule differently, but that didn’t faze Eddie. He was seeing this through to the end. He was going to see a change in the way of life for the better for every American. He looked up to see James Lally standing in front of him dressed to the nines in his light brown United Parcel outfit.

“Special delivery today?”

“Very special,” James replied with a smile.

James arrived at Senator Graham’s office and dropped the package with the secretary. Half an hour later he appeared at the offices of Beaux Lott Group and asked for Doc Hastings.

“He’s busy at the moment,” his secretary explained.

“I’m sorry, but I must have my receipt book signed by him.”

“I’ll sign for him.”

“I’m sorry. This form indicates personal delivery, only he can sign for it.”

“Hummpf. That’s odd. I’ve signed for him before.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Let me see if I can interrupt him.”

The secretary left for a moment and then returned saying, “You may go in. It’s the fourth door down the hall on your right.”

“Thank you.”

James knocked softly and then entered. Doc Hastings was a heavy-set man with a ruddy complexion and almost pure white hair and an expression that reflected the fact that he did not like being interrupted.

“I’m sorry sir, but I must have you sign for this package.”

“Sure, sure bring it here.”

As Doc scrawled his name across the ledger James looked around at the mahogany walls, the glass and mirror bar in the corner and the plush décor.

“Nice digs you got here,” James stated.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hastings responded in a dismissive tone as he handed the pen and ledger back to the United Parcel delivery boy.

James dutifully handed him the receipt adding, “I suggest you open it and listen to what’s on the disk right away.”

Hastings looked up, a puzzled expression on his face. “Huh, you know what’s in here?”

“No,” James said innocently, “but I don’t get many packages that require a face to face meeting with someone like you. Have a nice day.”

James strolled at a leisurely pace back towards the front door, briefly made small talk with the secretary again and as his hand touched the front door knob he heard Hastings’ voice as he screamed, “Ricky!”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

At first Elliott was reluctant to draw more people into the inner circle, but Eddie felt it was necessary and with what was at stake the smart move to make.

“You never go to war knowing you’re outnumbered,” he insisted.

Finally Elliott agreed. However, he was feeling weak and traveling back to Washington once more didn’t sound appealing at all. He suggested the meeting be held at the Colorado ranch. He brought in a chef, slaughtered a corn fed beef cow, ordered several cases of wine, kegs of beer, the finest scotch and Cuban cigars. Dinner was an amiable affair with the men making small talk and enjoying the fine repast. Afterwards, with cigars, scotch and Cognac, they retired from the dining hall to the great room and Eddie opened the meeting. All of the original members of Operation Anvil were there as well as a half dozen new faces. They were all former soldiers, some Navy Seals and some Special Operations personnel. All had worked with Elliott in some capacity over the years.

Eddie stood on the hearth dressed in army fatigues, his hair close cropped, broad shouldered and ready to take on whatever was sent his way. He exuded an air of confidence, but a confidence tempered by wisdom in the ways of war and a wariness of the strange twists of fate that war could introduce.

“We all know why we are here and have proven ourselves to be of one mind. It is time to take our government back. It is time to take matters into our own hands. Throw out the rules and make our representatives do the right thing. If I am mistaken in this assessment then please correct me now or forever hold your peace. If you are not in agreement with the foregoing statement then I would ask you to leave at this time.”

No one spoke and no one left the great hall.

“Good. You all know the Master Sergeant and the sacrifices he is making in this cause. He will address you now.”

Elliott rose from his chair, strode to where Eddie stood, shook hands and thanked him and then turned to the forty or so faces in the room.

“As you know we have opened what may be considered a war on the status quo, but is being termed the ‘War on the Deficit.’ I believe this is a desperate measure, but long overdue. We have a once in a lifetime opportunity where the President, the Secretary of Defense, the Army Chief of Staff, the Chairman of the SEC, the Chairman of the Federal Reserve, the Treasury Secretary and many others all stand united in this effort. However, I doubt even these esteemed men know the array of forces against us. What we are up against has been going on for some time. In short it is the financial, military and congressional cartel with a stranglehold on the economy, siphoning off massive profits for themselves at the expense of our nation. Their agenda is not in the national interest, but if they can hold on for another twenty years they will have made their fortunes and the country be damned. We don’t have twenty years. We may not have five with our debt soaring so uncontrollably.”

Elliott paused and looked around the room.

“I hold in my hand an article from the New York Times, April 25
^th
, 1896 and this is a quote, ‘Senator Barney Martin of New York has been the subject of congratulations this evening for the part he took in summarily ridding the Senate floor of a lobbyist at this afternoon’s session. He literally chased him out of the room.’

“I won’t read the whole article, but the point is that the date was 1896. Over one hundred years ago, lobbyists were stalking the floor of the Senate and a senator threw the bum out. I don’t think that would happen today.

“You can bet a bill requiring change of the magnitude that is currently being discussed will bring out the lobbyists in full force. Lobbyists will literally throw millions of dollars at the Senate in an effort to defeat SB 1190. They will attempt to filibuster the bill, tie it up forever in committee. This means that our efforts thus far, although quite successful, must be redoubled. Eddie has approached me with a number of ideas. The single most effective idea in my eyes is information. We need to know the most intimate facts of everyday life for every senator; we need to know their every weakness. We need to apply pressure on them as it has never been placed before. We are up against a system of graft the likes of which the world has never seen before. It reminds me of a quote from the French economist Frederic Bastiat, ‘When plunder becomes a way of life for a group of men living together in a society, they create for themselves in the course of time a legal system that authorizes it and a moral code that glorifies it.’

“This, my friends, is what we are up against. I will turn the meeting back over to Eddie and he will explain how we intend to proceed from here.”

Eddie took his turn at the hearth.

“Gentlemen, I think what the Master Sergeant is trying to say is it’s time to kick some greedy ass!”

This comment drew cheers, whistles and ‘huzzahs’ from the men. After a moment Eddie held up his hands. The room slowly quieted down.

“We intend to fight fire with fire. I know that’s a dreadful cliché, but we intend to do just that. We’ve completed a test run, thanks to the efforts of James Lally.”

James was standing off to one side of the room and doffed his green beret in deference to those assembled and the mention of his name.

“James and I happened upon information regarding a cash drop by Doc Hastings of the Beaux Lott group, a lobbying firm, to Senator Graham Brown. We intercepted the courier and recorded the conversation where he admitted to the pay off and named names. We then delivered a copy of the tape to Senator Graham’s office. James was able to gain access to the senator because he posed as a United Parcel delivery person; an innocuous bystander if there ever was one, but it proved it could be done.”

Eddie paused and took a sip of Cognac.

“Does anyone here know what DARPA stands for?”

A dark haired young man in the back with a deep tan and a build like Arnie Schwarzenegger in his heyday raised his hand. “The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. I worked with them briefly at Notre Dame.”

“Correct. They have developed nanotechnology to a degree that many in the public sphere would find hard to believe. Sure, they’ve trotted out a few things like a mechanical hummingbird that sits in your hand, a dragonfly and moths with micro-transmitters attached to their bodies and computers controlled by GPS satellite. The claim is they will be used to monitor battlefield conditions. What was not disclosed was they have developed full Hybrid Insect Micro-Electric Mechanical Systems. We have been provided an opportunity to purchase sow bugs. These little guys are equipped with a full complement of micro-listening devices and transmitters. To give you a little perspective, a nanometer is one billionth of a meter. A human hair is about 75,000 nanometers wide. These little sow bugs are mechanical, nearly invisible, and can be dropped anywhere in the senator’s office and will listen in on every conversation he has until the magneto-batteries run out about two months down the road. We intend to arm you with a wonderfully comfortable United Parcel outfit and a letter to deliver to every senator cordially inviting them to a big bash meeting at the Four Seasons Hotel with a representative from their favorite lobbying group. At that time a listening device will be placed in his office.”

Eddie paused.

“And it is true. We are sponsoring a big bash at the Four Seasons. We will have a number of special assistants at the party who will photograph each senator enjoying the party and well, from there we’ll take it the rest of the way …”

Eddie gazed at the men scattered about the room. Some sitting on couches, Lazy-Boys, foot stools or standing. A heavy-set man in the front with a thick black beard stood up and began clapping. The applause slowly spread until it reached a thunderous crescendo a moment later.

Once the applause died down Eddie asked, “Any questions?”

The man with the beard stepped forward saying, “Where do I go to get fitted with my UPS delivery boy outfit?”

“George, first things first, we’re going to have to use a machete to cut the underbrush off your face,” Elliott replied. “UPS drivers are clean cut young men.”

The room exploded in laughter.

After the meeting adjourned most of the men went to the bunk house for a little card playing and reminiscing while Elliott strolled out to the porch. It was long after midnight, but a full moon was up and the soft white light glistened off the small trout pond not far away. Elliott sat down and sighed. He was going to miss this place. The pain in his side was constant now in spite of the barrage of pills he was taking, and the jaundice was sapping his strength. How much time did he have before he met his maker? This was a question he could not answer. Elliott was determined to leave this planet a better place than when he found it. There simply had to be enough time. Elliott took a sip of his drink and tried to dispel these dark thoughts. He sat staring at the moon floating on the water for a long time and finally stood and went to bed.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Senate bill 1190 was spread across the various committees of the Senate just as Cobbings, Bainer and Whitback had requested.

Elliott’s cell phone rang and he answered it on the first ring.

“Elliott, Paul here.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Elliott said sensing the seething anger on the other end of the line.

“It looks like they are setting up to do battle with us.”

“How so?”

“My people in the Senate confirmed they have sent SB 1190 to the Senate Committee on Appropriations, the sub-committee for Financial Services and General Government, as well as the Senate Armed Services Committee. They will send it to their sub-committee for Emerging Threats and Capabilities and lastly the Senate Committee on Banking, Housing and Urban Affairs with the intention of sending it to their sub-committee on Economic Policy.”

“So they are going to amend the hell out of it and then send it back to the House for revision,” Elliott said softly with a sinking feeling that he had no chance of seeing this through.

“We can’t be sure what they’re going to do. We knew they weren’t going to simply forward it to me for signature, but I didn’t think they would send it to three committees and three sub-committees.”

“Triple whammy times two,” Elliott commented.

“I think Cobbings is behind this. My sources say they have never seen him so angry. He was throwing things around his office and fired one of his favorite interns.”

“Rightfully so. I might do the same if my mug had been photo shopped into a conversation where they are planning to attack Medicare in an effort to kill a bill and it was plastered over every newswire, newspaper and website in the nation.”

“There’s not much we can do for the time being. The next move is theirs,” the President concluded in a dejected tone.

“Actually, we’ve already put the wheels in motion for the next move, but let me think on this a bit,” Elliott said. “I think we need to approach this very carefully. We’ll need the names of every person sitting on all those committees, what pet projects they have in their districts, and when they are up for re-election.”

“Okay, I’ll have my secretary forward the info to you via e-mail shortly. I’ll talk with you later.”