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Authors: Joseph Garber

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BOOK: Whirlwind
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Next-to-last call: Max Henkes, chairman and CEO of DefCon Enterprises, the prime contractor for the Whirlwind project.

Max hadn’t been a happy camper. In fact, he was so furious he less spoke than stuttered, yada-yada, what do you expect? Sam was happy to let him get it out of his system until Maxie boy stepped over the line. “… more than tuh… tuh… ten billion dollars worth of research in the hands of the goddamned Ru-Ru-Russians!” Max howled. “And you’re re … re … responsible, you goddamned in-in-incompetent!”

Well, that was enough of that. The man had to be put in his place and that place was many, many ladder rungs below the national security advisor.

“Incompetent? Good word, Max. The way I see it, if some airhead had bothered to lock the lab door, this never would have happened. So who’s incompetent? I’ll tell you who. DefCon Enterprises is incompetent. And you, Max, are DefCon. The buck stops on your desk. If you want to look for incompetence, I suggest you look in the mirror.”

“You… you try to blame me! When your own so … so … soldiers


 

“Drop it, Max. One more word out of you and I will indict your corporate ass for criminal negligence, and you will be in a world of pain.”

Max went silent. When he spoke again, the stuttering had disappeared although not the anger. “I don’t deny we have to shoulder our share of the blame, but you have to understand that it was one of the junior staff. She was up late, polishing a progress report for presentation the next morning. I, for one, think it commendable that one of our employees was putting in extra hours to “

“Write a computer file that’s on its way to Moscow. Is that what you want to commend?”

“No, of course not. All I’m saying is that the woman was tired. Here it is, two o’clock in the morning, and she’s been working her tail off. She hears something explode. She runs outside to see what’s going on. Then she sees a fire. So she pitches in to help douse it. In my estimation that’s praiseworthy.”

“We’ll give her a medal after she gets out of jail.” Sam smiled. Doling out torture was preferable to being, as he had been most of the day, on the receiving end.

“Sam, listen “

“No, you listen. This is the second time you people have caused me grief. First, there was that Wing boy “

“Dr. Wing’s your man, hired at your recommendation. You sure as hell can’t blame DefCon for his son’s mistakes.”

“I can, and I do. Jesus! It’s not like the stupid kid kept his plans secret. Your company travel agent booked the tickets. Wasn’t anyone in your shop paying attention? Hey, our chief scientist’s brat is planning on visiting mainland China, the son of a man running a Magma Black project wants to rub shoulders with the commies, is this a good thing or a bad thing? Tell me, Max, how fucking dumb can you get?”

“Do we have to go over this again? Don’t we have more urgent things to talk about?”

Sam nodded appreciatively. Henkes had just fed him his straight line. “Yes. Yes, we do. But the point, Max, the very clear and very obvious point is this: we’ve got a bad problem on our hands. What Wing’s kid did makes it about a thousand times worse. You understand me?”

Henkes’s voice was still angry, but it was a frightened anger. “I’m afraid I do.”

“Good. Then understand what comes next. I’m putting a lot of uniforms in the field. But it’s not enough. I need a different sort of talent. The kind you get with the Navy SEALs or Delta Force. Unfortunately I can’t use ‘em. They’re all committed overseas. Besides, those lads … well, their operations tend to be a little less understated than the present situation requires. I can’t afford that. Not in America. If we were chasing jungle bunnies in some third-world shithouse, it’d be a different story. Dead colored boys aren’t prime time news. Dead white boys are.”

“Don’t tell me the media are involved!” No anger now, only fear.

“We’ve got them locked down for now. But if the body count starts to mount…”

“So what are you going to do? How can I help?” He was on the edge of panic, exactly where Sam wanted him.

“Subcontractors. Somebody effective but discreet. There’s an outfit I’ve used in the past. They can get the job done. Problem is, I can’t pay them direct. There’s no way I can let a money trail lead from people like that back to the White House.”

“You want them on my payroll?”

“Got it in one.”

“No sweat. We’re on a cost-plus contract. We’ll just pass the expense through. My company is happy to do anything let me emphasize that anything to get Whirlwind back.”

Done deal, another fine negotiation brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

Sam had told Max to expect a quote-consulting contract-unquote to arrive on his fax machine within the hour. The letterhead would read “The Specialist Consulting Group, Inc.,” and the contract would be signed by that organization’s president. All Max had to do was countersign it and fax it back. He didn’t even have to read it. In fact, he’d be better off if he didn’t.

Max understood. Max agreed.

Only then did Sam make his last call. As he dialed, his skin crawled.

Now, two hours later, he was keeping his eye on the clock. Quite soon, only a minute to go, Sam’s oversized plasma TV would switch on automatically. Then he and Claude would watch a closed-circuit broadcast dangerous men being briefed by the even more dangerous man to whom Sam had made his final phone call of the day.

Sam knew him, had met him more than once, had more than once shaken his astonishingly cold hand. He tried to picture his face. Oddly, he couldn’t. Whenever he tried to recollect his features, all he could think of was a pale tiger with hunger in its heart and no mercy in its soul.

He could remember the voice, though. It was not a voice you forgot easily low and guttural, an Afrikaans accent, throaty as a hunting cat’s growl.

The television blinked on. The Specialist Consulting Group’s red eagle logo appeared on the screen. An announcer spoke: “Please stand by for a briefing from our chief executive officer, Mr. Johan Schmidt.”

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

I should like everyone to know…

Excuse me, would someone kindly cue the music. Thank you. Ah, an excellent choice. The cavatina from La Forza del Destino, not inappropriate, I do believe.

Well then, to recommence. I want all of you here in the auditorium, and all of you watching from the field, to know how much I appreciate your deferring your other duties to participate in an uncommonly important mission.

As you are aware, our organization has gone through trying times. A few years ago, one of our consulting teams failed to perform to standards. As a result, a significant client dispensed with our services. Bonuses have been scant, and perquisites have been few. We have had to run lean and mean.

However, I have been working hard to reestablish credibility with that client, doing all in my power to win back his trust. I am pleased to report that I have been successful. We have been given a second chance.

Accordingly, to quote a famous maxim, failure is not an option.

First slide, please.

This is the heart of our mission. I do not know what it is, and our client has requested we not attempt to find out. Suffice it to say that it is oblong, sixty-two inches in length, thirty-five inches wide, eighteen deep. Weight: seventy-six and a half pounds twenty-eight and a half kilos. It is essential that this article be secured. No price is too high to pay to achieve this objective.

Next slide.

A seemingly ordinary backup disk. It is our second objective, and quite as important as the first. A crucial fact, gentlemen: this disk is not to be put in any computer. Security codes are secreted throughout it. As soon as it is inserted in a drive, the disk determines if it is connected to a classified file server and a very high level of classification it is. If no secure server is found, then, in nanoseconds, the disk destroys itself.

Another crucial fact: as those of you with a technical bent know, such protection schemes can be breached. A man with the right skills can subvert any security system protecting any disk. For this reason, our client is keenly interested in whether or not the disk has been compromised. If any of you tamper with it… well, our client would find that disappointing.

As would I. Next slide.

Ah, I see I have your attention now. Yes, despite her graceless dress, she is rather comely, isn’t she? You at the projector, show the boys the next five slides. Whistle and applaud as much as you want, gentlemen, because this beauty is our third objective. Irina Kolodenkova is her name, and she plays for the Russian team. You will find a full dossier on her in the information package that will be distributed after I conclude my remarks.

The computer disk and the rather large brown object are in Ms. Kolodenkova’s possession. Secure one, and you will have secured them all.

Yes, question in the back.

Ha! Of course! Most certainly you can strip search her when you catch her!

There will also be a full body cavity search. You see, the rather tasty-looking Ms. Kolodenkova was in a place she shouldn’t have been. She may have had a digital camera in her possession at the time. Such cameras can record photographs on small magnetic strips. Sad to say, such strips can be swallowed. It should be self-evident that if the strips exist, our client wants them retrieved. Accordingly, a comprehensive autopsy is planned.

However, and I cannot emphasize this enough, it is absolutely critical that the woman be taken alive. The possibility exists that she has spoken to another agent, transmitted a message, or simply dropped photographic strips into the mail. For this reason, she will need to be questioned. I myself will administer the interrogation. It will go quickly, I think. She’s a pretty woman. A pretty woman is a vain woman. The closer a straight razor comes to her pretty face, the more voluble she becomes.

But we all know that, don’t we?

To repeat and reemphasize: my cardinal point is that Ms. Kolodenkova is to remain alive and in reasonable health until questioned by me, questioned personally. This is not to say that you cannot amuse yourself with her. It is the right of warriors to use the enemy’s women as they wish. So enjoy. After all, no one will be filing charges.

Let me add one salient point. There is a time element in this mission, and the clock is ticking. In the unlikely event we do not apprehend Ms. Kolodenkova before noontime Friday, she becomes an open contract. Were a competing party to take her, we would forfeit our performance bonus. Gentlemen, that would be unacceptable. Completely unacceptable. Am I understood? Good. Now, should this woman remain in play after Friday noon, the rules change. When you see her when, not if you are to kill her where she stands. That will earn us our head price, although I’m sure we all would be happier to provide full satisfaction to our client by delivering her before the deadline.

I have every expectation we will.

Final slide.

Here we have the fly in our ointment. The gentleman’s name is Charles McKenzie. Some of you may remember him from the newspapers two years ago. Older hands will recollect our firm’s previous, distasteful experiences with him.

Be advised: Mr. McKenzie is a good news bad news proposition. The good news is our honorable profession has never known a better manhunter. Much to everyone’s advantage, he is in pursuit of Ms. Kolodenkova. I should be quite surprised if he does not find her. Therefore, if we follow McKenzie, he surely will lead us to her doorstep.

Following him will not be as easy as it might sound. He already has eluded those charged with watching him

Yes? Ah, I am afraid so. The FBI. Gentlemen, please hold down the laughter. Our time is short, and I have a great deal more information to share with you. Good, thank you. Well then, McKenzie is out of sight for the moment. However, he will resurface. He has no choice. Once he does, we will be alerted. Then we, rather than the lackluster lads from Quantico, will be in charge of keeping an eye on him.

That brings me to the bad news. The bad news is that there’s more to McKenzie than his tracking skills. Succinctly stated, he is a highly competent professional, a master of the arts in which we all have so diligently trained. Approach him cautiously. Expect the unexpected. He is dangerous and that is an egregious understatement.

More bad news, our client believes McKenzie may have an agenda of his own. Having secured Ms. Kolodenkova and the objects in her possession, he is quite capable of behaving in a manner inconsistent with our client’s best interests.

Question? Yes, on the aisle.

There are more scenarios than I care to enumerate. I’m told he might try to use Kolodenkova as a bargaining chip. Alternatively, the materials she has stolen involve a secret that McKenzie could use against our client. Blackmail, apparently, is not out of the question. Why this is so is none of our affair. Our sole job is to deliver the results expected of us.

What? No, absolutely not. Under no circumstances is McKenzie to be terminated. Our instructions in that regard are regrettably specific. I say regrettable because I personally would welcome some quality time with him. Unfortunately, the privilege is denied me. At most, we are allowed to incapacitate him although not in earnest. A bullet through the ankle is acceptable, I suppose, but little more than that.

Gentlemen, I do recognize that such unwelcome limitations to our flexibility raise the possibility of casualties in our ranks. The only consolation I can offer is that our company’s survivors’ benefits package remains the best in the business.

Yes?

Excellent question. Thank you for asking. There does indeed exist some possibility however remote that Ms. Kolodenkova will be captured by another agency. Both local police and federal officers are searching for her. Should one of them get luckier than he deserves, you are to relieve him of his prisoner. If he resists, you are authorized to employ appropriate force. The word “appropriate” is defined as whatever it takes to do the job.

Now, let me move on to procedural matters.

First: civilian wear. You must look and act like ordinary citizens. No battle dress, and, unhappily, no Kevlar or M5. The deer and the antelope play in the great American Southwest. Likewise the tourists. Protective coloration is the order of the day.

BOOK: Whirlwind
10.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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