Part 2 (1/2)
Was.h.i.+ngton DC The Vice President's residence in the grounds of the United States Naval Observatory in northwestern Was.h.i.+ngton DC was quite some pile, with its Victorian turret and broad, columned porch, the place could almost have been a country club or a tree shrouded health spa retreat. But the place had a spooky quality, black funereal shutters and deep bulletproof windows that stared out at the pleasant flower filled grounds, with silent menace. Jack Senegar sat out back, by the white painted porch overlooking the pool and drank in the scene. Fifteen minutes he had been waiting and still no sign of the VP. Senegar hated tardiness in all its forms, especially when it came in the overfed political form of the Vice President of the United States.
When Vice President d.i.c.k Hanssen finally arrived, he was full of himself as usual; blowing in, wearing a too tight blue polo s.h.i.+rt tucked into the top of his double pleated pants to accentuate his sagging physique. Not only that, he was wearing s.h.i.+ny brown ta.s.sel loafers, that gave him the preppy vibe of an insurance salesman, or an area manager for some G.o.d-awful office supplies firm.
Senegar waited until the VP got close, then rose up out of his seat, until he towered above him.
The Vice President was ebullient. ”Jack, so good to see you again, thank you for coming, I hope my people have been taking care of you?”
Senegar eyed the bone-china cups and the silver coffee decanter and gave the Vice President a thin look. ”We should get down to business,” he said.
The VP beamed, a look of wide-eyed enthusiasm suddenly taking over, ”But of course Jack, of course we should.”
Senegar sank back slowly into his chair. He snapped down a wayward crease in his immaculate pinstripe suit jacket with an idle flick of the wrist, then stared at the Vice President for some moments.
The VP's smile got wider. His greedy politician's eyes surveying Senegar, a.n.a.lyzing him, to see how deep his loyalty ran.
Senegar sat poker faced, watching the p.r.i.c.k run his NLP moves, like he had read them off the back of a cornflakes packet or something. Who would have thought a schmo like this could be playing political bagman to the man who actually ran the country, Politicians, thought Senegar with disgust, worthless self-serving weasels to a man; paying lip service to patriotism and the higher ethics of government, yet all the time thinking only of themselves and how they could turn political advantage into cold hard cash.
”So Jack, what can you tell me?”
”Our friends in the Bureau are involved.” ”Involved? To what extent?”
”Level Nine.”
”How can you be so sure?”
”HUMINT & COMINT confirmation.” ”I see.” The Vice President gave Jack a grave look. ”I have spoken to the President-an off the record briefing. He is anxious that the situation be resolved before the next National Security Council Princ.i.p.als meeting, in three days time. Don't look at me like that Jack. The President has a lot on his plate. Economically we are balanced on the edge right now, and the international situation is running bleaker than ever. Just before the princ.i.p.als meeting, he has to fly out to Los Angeles to meet with those G20 jackals and you know what that means-every leader in the world crying and whining like we were the only folks who could do a d.a.m.n thing to straighten this planet out.”
”Three days?” Senegar sat impa.s.sive. Finally he said, ”I have initialized Deep Five. I have an a.s.set moving into place as we speak.”
”The a.s.set we discussed?”
Jack Senegar gave a snort. ”Of course.” The VP smiled, ”You have done well Jack.
The President will be pleased.”
”The Admiral won't be pleased. Far from it.” ”Welcome to the business of politics Jack, no matter how hard one tries to please everyone, one often finds that diplomatic niceties are impossible luxuries.” The VP steepled his fingers, gave Jack a grave look and said, ”We are cogs Jack, cogs in the big machine.”
”The Admiral is a man who holds a grudge. He is known for it. And when he finds POTUS has co-opted his daughter for a home-game operation there is no telling how he might react.”
”Who cares, how he might react Jack. He is an employee, like everybody else. He will do as he is d.a.m.n well told, and like it.”
”The a.s.set has a record of violent and unpredictable behavior, there are other a.s.sets I could deploy to resolve this little conspiracy, in fact I would recommend we take that course. We are dealing with fire here, you know that don't you?”
The Vice President laughed. ”A conspiracy of fire? That has a certain ring to it Jack,” he paused, gave Senegar a careful look and said, ”We have to ensure the Admiral's loyalty.”
”What about the girl?”
”The girl is expendable Jack, just like everyone else. We are fighting for the greater good here-the future of the United States of America.” Jack Senegar didn't move, his hard-lined face cast in stone. Finally, he said, ”There will be casualties. A lot of casualties.”
The Vice President, gave a sharp laugh, shook his head and said, ”Collateral damage Jack, an inevitable consequence of war. And I would remind you that this operation is strictly beyond the rim. No blowback of any kind. Are we clear on that Jack?”
Jack Senegar sat impa.s.sively for a long time. Finally he said, ”Affirmative. We will carry this one all the way.”
”Splendid.” The Vice President gave Senegar a sly look and said, ”You should try the coffee Jack, it really is rather good. The best in DC I would say.”
Jack Senegar got slowly to his feet, and made his leave.
06.
Honolulu International Airport, Oahu. A thousand tourists, maybe more, clogged the baggage hall, all of them buzzing with excitement at the prospect of a Hawaiian vaycay. Dressed in a lightweight business suit and una.s.suming cotton blouse, accessorized with a floaty scarf and designer sungla.s.ses, Karyn always travelled low- key. She made like a business traveler or conventioneer, blowing into town for a boardroom meeting. Travelling anonymous, she wore her hair high, with heavy rimmed gla.s.ses, she called it the Librarian look, it was the kind of blind that would keep unwanted attention to an absolute minimum. Karyn always accessorized the Librarian look, with a well-used copy of the Wall Street Journal, the kind of literary bromide that could slap down just about any male ego in five seconds flat.
As she moved anonymous among the throng, trailing a compact carry on and Gucci purse, her senses moved to high alert.
They were watching.
They had to be watching.
Question was, who exactly was she was up against? If the Federales were working a deep cover job like Senegar said, they would be swarming the job en ma.s.se-spotters, hitters, back up and beyond. Since the twin towers strike the Feds had really upped their game, moving wholesale into covert operations-anti terrorism strikes, the whole nine yards. They had even gotten themselves a billion dollar Biometric surveillance system, known as Next Generation Identification. NGI was a vast computerized facial identification system that worked on 3D modeling algorithms. The system used security cameras at airports, rail terminals, and ports to recognize terrorists, criminals, and other persons of interest.
Persons of Interest .
That catch-all term would no doubt include deep cover operatives from the CIA, working beyond the rim operations on American soil. If a rogue cadre inside the FBI had been involved in the murder of the senator and his pal the governor, they would be monitoring new arrivals to the Island very carefully, striving to keep a lid on their dirty little operation.
Heading through the crowd, Karyn sensed cameras everywhere, all of them zooming in for a close focus shot of her face, so they put a make on her-mark her down as friend or foe. But she knew her face was NGI clean-The CIA's electronic intelligence unit treated the virtual security of their agents very seriously. In the modern world, computer based intelligence could be as deadly to agents as real world a.s.sa.s.sins.
The eye in the sky, watching from above.
Watching day and night, without rest.
Recording everything.
Security always came at a price, thought Karyn. The bleating media had blown the lid on facial recognition, but they, like the public, would never know the full extent their so called privacy had been compromised. In the computer age where technology ruthlessly catalogued the lives of untold millions, there was no longer any escape from Government. Privacy had become a lost luxury that society could no longer afford. No matter if you were a vacationing family or a terrorist sc.u.mbag looking to bomb your way into the hereafter- those pointy-nosed busybodies at the FBI would have your every move down.
And should you fall foul of their code- They would trace you down-your friends and your family too and they would do it quicker than you could email a complaint to your favorite liberal senator on Capitol Hill.
But for Karyn, the schmantzy new spy system the Feds were polis.h.i.+ng up held no fear. The Agency was the last word in government muscle-all others were pretenders. And whoever had put the ice on the senator and his pal the governor were about discover how bad that kind of hurt could be. h.e.l.l, those freaks at the FBI could poke their beaks into the private affairs of the whole G.o.dd.a.m.n world it they wanted to. They could put the gun to enemies of the United States where ever they found them-court or no court, the more mad dog bombers that got fried the better.