Mosaic (Breakthrough Book 5)

by Michael C. Grumley

  Hayes raised an index finger to the waiting Army officer, standing patiently to receive him, before giving the chief his complete attention. “Make it fast, Millican. I’m already late.”

  “Sir, we’re under attack.”

  “Where?”

  “Our internal network.”

  Hayes’ face tightened. “Is it that Will Borger again?”

  “No, sir. This one is bigger. Much bigger. Thousands of connections. All originating from the Department of Defense.”

  “What?!”

  “The DoD, sir. Probably less than a few thousand feet from where you’re standing.”

  Hayes twisted back around, staring up the steps and through the pillars of the Pentagon’s main entrance. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “No, sir.”

  “What are they after?”

  “It’s hard to say. They’re targeting everything.”

  “Then shut them down!”

  “We’re trying. But it’s not that easy. They’re already in and have–”

  “I don’t care!” shouted Hayes. “JUST SHUT THEM DOWN! Go in there and start pulling out the damn plugs or something!”

  Millican paused. “Yes, sir.”

  “Wait!” Hayes almost ended the call before bringing the phone back to his ear. “Dugway. What’s happening at Dugway?!”

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  On the other end, Millican nodded and bent down to check a live satellite feed. “Yes.” He zoomed in on the main entrance, then used a mouse to scan around the fenced perimeter and guard towers. “Nothing at all.”

  “What about the SEAL team?”

  Millican tilted his head to one side, securing the phone, while using his other hand to type. The video feed switched to the hangar at the airport. He punched a few buttons and switched the image into thermal view. Dozens of yellow and orange blobs could be seen inside.

  “They’re still in the hangar.”

  “All of them?”

  “Looks like it.” He moved outside and examined the giant helicopter. It was motionless and appeared to still be dark blue in the picture. “Nothing moving on their chopper either.”

  Hayes ended the call, seething as he squinted over the top of the Town Car and across the large field of grass around him.

  119

  Defense Secretary Miller glanced up from his desk when he heard the sudden burst of shouting, followed only moments later by his office door being thrown open from the other side. In the doorway, Andrew Hayes breathed heavily while struggling against a powerful hand wrapped firmly around the man’s left arm.

  Hayes’ eyes were boiling and found Miller just before being yanked back out of the doorway. “Goddamn it, Miller!”

  Another one of the guards jumped in front of the CIA Director and peered through the door at his senior officer. “I’m sorry, sir!” was all he said before reaching for the doorknob to pull it closed again.

  “Wait.” As he watched Hayes attempting to wrestle himself away from a second guard in the background, Miller calmly put down his pen and nodded. “Let him in.”

  The guard glanced back with a look of surprise. “Are you sure?”

  Behind him, Hayes yelled, “Get off of me!”

  “Yes,” the secretary nodded and rose from his chair, buttoning his suit jacket. “Let him in but stay right outside the door.”

  “Yes, sir.” He promptly stepped back, providing an opening for Hayes, who was now beet red and noticeably ruffled.

  Enraged, he stepped into the room and grabbed the edge of the door, slamming it shut.

  “Morning,” Miller replied dryly.

  “Don’t morning me, you son of a bitch! I know what you’re doing!”

  Miller raised his eyebrows and looked down at his desk, where he calmly picked up his cup of coffee in one hand and the rest of a doughnut in the other. “Well, then don’t tell my wife. This is supposed to be a banana.”

  Hayes ignored his humor and stormed across the carpeted floor. “Shut it down!” he growled. “Shut it down now!”

  Merl Miller studied him and took a slow sip from his mug. “I think this is where I say, I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

  The anger in Hayes’ eyes intensified. Before he could retort, there was a loud knock on the door.

  “Come in.”

  This time the door opened to reveal Miller’s personal secretary. “I’m sorry, sir. Admiral Langford is here to see you.”

  “Fine. Send him in.”

  His secretary nodded. She briefly noted the infuriated Hayes in the middle of the room before moving aside for Langford.

  The admiral stepped in, and Miller’s secretary promptly pulled the door closed behind her with a click.

  Langford looked from Miller to Hayes, silently finding the broad difference in their demeanors more than a bit amusing. He returned to Miller with a nod. “Having your morning banana, I see.”

  “You’re just in time. Director Hayes appears upset about something.”

  The CIA director growled in a more controlled tone. “I said shut it down!”

  “Shut what down?”

  “The attack.”

  “What attack?”

  “You know damn well what attack. Your computer attack!”

  Miller looked at Langford. “Did you order a computer attack?”

  “I don’t even know how a computer attack works.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “You think this is funny?”

  Miller looked at Langford. “You know who was funny? That Red Skelton. I used to listen to him as a kid. I remember him making me laugh so hard I cried once.”

  “Yeah. He was good.”

  Hayes remained glaring at Miller. “So, this is a game to you two. Some kind of joke.”

  Miller shook his head and placed his mug back down. “A joke? No. Just a couple of old men reminiscing.”

  “I know what you’re doing. I’m not stupid.”

  “What are we doing?”

  A hint of a smirk appeared on Hayes’ face. “You want her back. The Chinese girl. And you think by distracting us, we won’t see what you’re really up to.”

  Miller turned to Langford. “Are you up to something, Jim?”

  “No.”

  “Jim says he’s not up to something. And I am trying to finish my breakfast.”

  “Shut it down,” Hayes repeated. “And I mean now!”

  Miller sighed and placed the last bite of doughnut next to his cup. He then dusted his hands and reached for the phone. “Give me Waterman in Ops.”

  He paused, waiting, while his eyes remained on Hayes. When the call was connected, he spoke into the receiver. “This is Secretary Miller. I have Director Hayes in my office wanting to know about a computer attack. Do you know anything about that?”

  After another short pause, Miller nodded and hung up.

  “He says they’re not doing anything.”

  Hayes was not amused. “You’re making a grave mistake.” When Miller didn’t answer, the CIA Director continued. “You think this is some kind of game. Some…charade. But you are meddling in something you shouldn’t be. And with the wrong group of people. People who know more than you think.”

  He took a step forward, still staring at Miller intently. “Have you forgotten that I was in the room with you at Transocean headquarters? We know about all of it, and then some. I told you before, we’re keeping tabs on your special little team and what they’re trying to do. It’s called treason.”

  “Funny,” Langford said. “Of all people to accuse us of treason.”

  Hayes frowned. “We have a lot more on you than that.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like my first wife.”

  “Go ahead. Keep making your jokes,” Hayes replied through dark eyes. “Soon it will be all you have left. Because we know all of your secrets. Including the platoon of Navy SEALs you’re hiding at Salt Lake.”

&n
bsp; Miller glanced at Langford.

  “Did you think we wouldn’t find out? That you sent your team to try to get the girl, and your Commander Lawton?” He looked back and forth between them. “Sounding familiar yet?”

  The men said nothing.

  “Do you really think a helicopter full of commandos are going to get into that place? And back out? You two, of all people, should understand just how suicidal that would be. And your grand plan is to distract us with a computer attack?” Hayes shook his head. “That’s the best your entire Department of Defense could come up with?”

  Hayes’ dark eyes suddenly feigned surprise. “Oh, that’s right! Your hands are tied. You’re not actually in a position to tell anybody about this, are you? You had to keep things quiet. Lest your even bigger secret gets out.” He smiled. “But a cyber attack? That’s easy to order. While still deceiving your own people.”

  “The CIA does it all the time,” Miller replied dryly. “You don’t just bend the rules like the rest of us. You actually think they don’t apply to you.”

  Hayes grinned. “Because they don’t.”

  “Everyone has rules,” Langford said. “Eventually. It’s called a conscience.”

  Hayes turned to face the admiral. “Ah. Let conscience be your guide,” he mocked. “So noble. So…righteous.”

  “If you say so.”

  Hayes stared at Admiral Langford. “You don’t think I care about our country?”

  “I don’t know what the hell you care about.”

  “Well, I do,” he replied.

  “And so do we.”

  “No, you don’t. The country you care about lives in fantasy land, like some utopian novel of how the United States might exist someday. I care about our country now. As it exists today! The last good thing. The last righteous thing left in a world that wants nothing more than to tear us apart. To destroy us completely. Without the slightest remorse.” Hayes was livid.

  “We’re the only country that actually stands for something. And still has enough power to do what’s right. To show what’s right. Before it’s too late and people like you turn this nation into a shell of its former self. Or worse, some carcass picked clean by a world of vultures.”

  He went on, “It’s not just the Muslims against the Christians anymore. Today we’re fighting an endless list of Islamic militants, jihadists groups, separatists of every possible ilk, international and domestic terrorists, and even some developed nations, so-called friends, all hell-bent on bringing this country to its knees. By whatever means necessary.”

  “In case you forgot, we’re fighting the same battle.”

  “If that were true, you wouldn’t be trying to take them back. You would understand how badly they’re needed. To help protect our nation. But no. Instead, you see a world full of individuals, sensitive and innocent of their own actions. People who need to have a say in everything. Whether they understand it or not.” Hayes waved an arm. “But you know what? All they really want to know is who the hell is on T.V. tonight. Or which celebrity is crying over another horrible injustice. No one cares. All they care about is making sure everyone remains comfortable and happy, no matter what they lose in the process.”

  “No,” Miller disagreed. “What we see are victims. Both here and out there. People who want no part in any of these maniacal factions. People who have as much right to live as anyone else. And as much right to the truth.”

  “And you want to save them.”

  “Not save them,” Langford clarified. “Just give them some hope.”

  Hayes sneered. “Hope? Hope for what? Look around you for Christ’s sake! The world is devolving into bedlam right before your eyes! The world is being overrun by the meek. Hypnotized by propaganda and brainwashed into hating someone new every month! They don’t give a shit about us. All they care about is having someone to blame for their squalor. Because they’re too weak to pick up a damn pitchfork and fight back! To take back their countries from the lunatics.”

  “I can think of some developed nations with that description,” Miller answered. “Many of whom are allies. And the people you’re talking about aren’t fighting back not because they lack courage. They don’t bother fighting because they’ve lost hope. Because nothing ever changes. Just regime after regime promising a better life, only to have them find they’re just as oppressed as they ever were.”

  Hayes shook his head. “They are oppressed because they’re cowards! They throw up their hands and wait for us to fight for them!”

  “How much fight do you think you’d have if you couldn’t even keep your own kids fed? How long do you think these people are willing to watch their own children suffer for an ideology that’s crammed down their throats and never changes? Ever.”

  Hayes glared at Miller for a long moment. “You’re old and soft.”

  “Jesus,” Langford murmured. “Where’s your humanity?”

  “Don’t talk to me about humanity!” He looked the older man up and down, disgusted. “Where’s your sense of loyalty?! The fact is, the weak and the poor have suffered for thousands of years. They always have and they always will. Nothing will ever change that. The world is indifferent. The universe is indifferent. One day when our sun goes out in a blaze of glory, there will still be millions of mouths crying out for someone to help them. And there will still be degenerates trying to attack those who have what they don’t, in the name of some God, or in the name of fairness, or compassion. No matter what the cost. No matter who has to be killed to take it! And you know what, it will never end. Not by itself. Not while there are others like me still alive.”

  “Even if it means destroying the innocent with the guilty.”

  “Have you ever seen an elephant taken down by a wild group of hyenas? It’s astonishing to see something so powerful felled by attackers so small. And it’s not because of the numbers. It’s because the elephant forgets how powerful it really is. It forgets that it can trample the hyenas to death like a steamroller. So instead it runs, trying to escape.”

  “So, we’ve played nice for too long.”

  “You’re damn right we have. We have the largest military on the planet. The greatest technology. And we simply sit here, waving our ax around, while allowing our enemies to search for more chinks in our armor.”

  “And you want to use the ax,” Miller said.

  “Yes.”

  “Because you have no rules.”

  “No rules that I’m not willing to ignore for the greater good.”

  “Spoken like a true dictator.”

  Hayes stared at Miller before finally smiling. “Don’t get in my way.”

  Miller glanced again at Langford.

  “And if you think you’re going to get those women back,” Hayes said. “Think again. From this moment, if I see a single one of your SEALs leave that hangar, the gloves come off.” Hayes spun and moved toward the door, pausing when he grabbed the knob. “Because this little computer attack of yours is pathetic. You’ve started a fight. But what you’re about to get…is a war.”

  Langford watched the door close before turning back to Miller, still standing behind his desk.

  “Well, I guess we know where he stands.”

  The Defense Secretary peered down at his desk before turning to face the sunlit window behind him. Outside, a patchy blue morning sky stretched over an endless sea of deep green oak and maple trees––dotted with buildings and streets until the forest green and azure blue met on the horizon.

  “You think he’s right?”

  “About which part?”

  Miller continued gazing out the window. “Do you think we’re just getting old and soft?”

  Langford considered the question. “I don’t know. Probably. But I like to think age comes with at least some wisdom.”

  “I hope so. Because right now I can’t tell if this is wisdom or just idealism.”

  “Probably both.”

  The secretary glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t we all want to
see the world become a better place?”

  “Presumably. But everyone has a different idea of how to make that happen.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Miller mumbled. He turned and faced Langford with a tired expression. “I think we need to consider the possibility that Hayes already knows everything. And if he does, he can’t be the only one.”

  Langford frowned. “I don’t think he does. He knows about the alien ship and the ruse with the oil rig. Obviously. And the bacteria that was sourced from the plants in Guyana, whose source has been destroyed. But I don’t think he knows what’s in the water near the ship or about the vaults we found.”

  “So, maybe he doesn’t know as much as we think.”

  “Or as much as he thinks.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  “As for getting older…I don’t think this is a matter of sentimentality.”

  “No?”

  Langford shook his head. “My father died almost twenty years ago after a long bout with pancreatic cancer. Before that, he spent the last several years of his career with the United Nations. In the end, it was a long fight. A long, slow decline. Which gave him a lot of time to reflect.” With hands in his pockets, the admiral stepped closer. “A few days before he died, he told me no one really makes as much of a difference as they think. That most change comes from circumstance. By events just…unraveling through their own fruition, only later to be miscredited. He said real change, change being truly individual or consequential, was actually very rare. That very few people could say they intentionally changed the world.”

  Miller nodded thoughtfully.

  “I do believe Hayes is right about one thing. We are fighting a constant battle. Every day. Putting out one fire after another. Dealing with one crisis after another. Where does it end?”

  Miller shrugged. “It doesn’t.”

  “You’re right. It never ends, because nothing really changes. The people and the details change, but the fight over power never does.”

  “And life will never be fair.”