Landsdale put the name of the city that would be spared in his pocket and said to Harry, “Now you won’t know until it’s over.”
Harry didn’t think he’d ever know.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Harry Muller listened as the five men discussed the final details of Project Green and Wild Fire.
Somewhere, deep down in his heart, Harry Muller agreed that 122 nukes exploding across Sandland might not be a bad thing. It was the 4 nukes in America that really bothered him, and it seemed to be bothering Wolffer, Hawkins, Dunn, and Landsdale, too. But they were dealing with it. He heard Madox say, “If I could have picked our time, I’d have liked to nuke LA during the Academy Awards.”
Actually, Harry thought, Madox is dealing with it too well.
General Hawkins returned to the happier subject of Wild Fire and said almost wistfully, “Coincidentally, at about the time of the Academy Awards, the huge lake behind the Aswan High Dam would be at full flood level.”
Bain Madox nodded and said, “Well, thanks to Mr. Muller, we don’t have the luxury of picking our time.” He looked at Harry, then continued, “Even though the stars, the moon, and the planets will not be aligned on Tuesday, I think that Mr. Muller’s arrival here was a sign from God that we needed to shit or get off the pot.” He warmed to his subject and said, “Things don’t have to be perfect to launch a hundred nukes. The nukes themselves create their own perfect world. They are transcendental. Divine.”
Scott Landsdale asked Madox, “Bain, before you were rich and powerful, did anyone ever use the word crazy in the same sentence with your name?”
Madox poured a glass of water while he stared at Landsdale. Finally, he said, “Sometimes I get carried away on the subject of Wild Fire. I mean, it’s not often in the history of the human race that an overwhelming problem has a simple solution. It’s even more rare when fate has put that solution into the minds and hands of a few good men. This excites me.”
No one, not even Scott Landsdale, responded.
Madox continued, “A few more operational details. First, you should all plan on leaving sometime tomorrow. The rest of the club members will leave Monday, as planned. I’ve arranged transportation for church services tomorrow morning—”
Harry said, “I’d like to go to church.”
Madox looked at him and said, “You’ll be sleeping late.” He paused. “It goes without saying that no one here will discuss the agenda of this closed executive session of the Board with any other members. You must act natural and look normal. As you may know, Steve Davis lives in San Francisco, and Jack Harlow and Walt Bauer live in the LA area. Do not look at any of them like they’re about to die.” He added, “Actually, none of us knows yet what two cities we’ve chosen, so that should help you.”
No one said anything.
Madox suggested, “If your acting ability is not up to the situation, say that we were talking about the coming war with Iraq, which is indeed worrisome. And please watch your drinking. Understood?”
Everyone nodded.
Madox continued, “As for communication, we all have untraceable cell phones, just as the drug dealers have, and we’ll use only those phones. Plus, as you know, I have my own cell relay tower here with a voice scrambler. But call only if and when I need to hear from you.” He added, “Most of what I need to know about Project Green, I can see on an all-news station.” He thought a moment, then went on, “Sometime around the dinner hour, every radio and TV station in America—except for those in the two cities—will become part of the Emergency Broadcast System.”
No one said anything, and Madox continued, “About an hour later, I expect to hear a news flash about the American nuclear response to the nuclear attacks on America. Is that right, Paul? Ed?”
Ed Wolffer replied, “Yes, Wild Fire will be announced to the nation and the world. There’s no reason to keep it secret since it’s hard to keep a massive missile launch and one hundred twenty-two nuclear detonations a secret for very long.” He added, “At some point during the evening, the president will address the nation from his secure location and reveal the existence of Wild Fire. Hopefully, this will have a calming effect on the country. If nothing else, it’s good for national morale.”
“Well,” said Bain Madox, “it’s good for my morale. After 9/11, everyone was depressed when we didn’t respond immediately, but this time, Americans can’t accuse the government of being overly cautious.”
General Hawkins responded, “True, but this time we’ll get a lot of flack for overreacting.”
“This time, Jim,” Madox said, “the world and the media will sit in awed silence. You won’t hear a peep. Not a fucking peep.”
The Board members nodded, and so did Harry.
Madox said, “It should be an interesting night. I’ll stay here, obviously, to send the ELF signal that will detonate the devices.” Again, he went to the suitcase standing upright on the floor and put his hands on the black leather. He stared at each man and said, “I, gentlemen, will push the nuclear button, which will devastate two American cities with four nuclear devices, and when I do that, I will ask God’s forgiveness. You will see to it that Wild Fire is launched as a retaliatory response.”
General Hawkins asked, “How long after Tuesday will you stay here, Bain?”
Madox returned to his seat and replied, “I don’t know. Why?”
“Well, understand that there will be a lot of panic in America when the nukes detonate in the cities. People will figure, if the enemy has a few nukes, he might have more. The cities will start to evacuate, which will cause chaos and, unfortunately, some injuries and deaths. Our family members and friends are at some risk . . . and I can’t and won’t be calling people I know all over America telling them to stay put and remain calm. We can only hope that the retaliatory strike—the obliteration of Islam—will calm people down. But in the meantime—”
“Jim, what’s your point?”
“Well . . . now that the hour has actually arrived . . . I’m thinking . . . and I guess we’re all thinking of the reality of what’s going to happen.”
Madox replied, “I know this is all so sudden, Jim, but it’s the kind of thing you needed to think about after 9/11 when we began planning Project Green.”
“Yes, I know. But I’m thinking now of you staying up here in God’s country while we four are in Washington, and our friends and family are scattered all over the country, which is in a state of chaos. Where will your family be?”
“Wherever they are, they are. I’m not making any calls.” He added, “My children don’t return my calls anyway.”
“That’s your decision. But I think you need to get back to New York as soon as possible after this happens.”
“Why?”
Hawkins replied, “To share the experience, Bain.”
“All right . . . I’ll do my best to get into New York as soon as possible. But I do need to destroy and dispose of the ELF transmitter, just in case anyone shows up here with a search warrant. That’s my job. Your job, gentlemen, is to stay in Washington—or the designated secure location—to influence events. Agreed?”
Everyone nodded.
Harry again scanned the faces around the table. It seemed like reality was starting to sink in. Again, he was reminded of the radical groups he’d investigated over the years. They bullshitted everything to death because, deep down inside, most of them really didn’t want to risk their lives to plant a bomb, shoot a cop, rob a bank, or kidnap anyone. Now and then—when they had a Bain Madox in charge—some of their bullshit turned into action. And in half those cases, someone in the group ratted out the plan to the cops, or turned himself in after the crime to work out a deal.
Harry looked at each face around the table. Maybe, now that the time had come, one of these guys would come to his senses before Tuesday. The president’s adviser, Dunn, looked a little shaky, and he might blow the whistle. The general was a little shaky, too, but Harry knew the type—he’d go along, then m
aybe blow his brains out afterward. The defense guy, Wolffer, was committed to the program, and he wasn’t going to budge.
And then there was Landsdale. Harry remembered Ted Nash, Corey’s CIA nemesis, now deceased. Corey had once said about Nash, “The best you can say about a CIA officer is that they lie to everyone equally.” If Landsdale had sat there agreeing with everything, Harry would have suspected him of being a double. But Landsdale gave Madox a lot of shit, so Landsdale was probably loyal to the program, even if he wasn’t loyal to Madox. Harry thought that Madox understood this, but he must have trusted Landsdale, or the guy wouldn’t be here. In fact, Harry could sense that Landsdale was actually in tighter with Madox than the others were.
And then there was Madox himself. Here was a guy who had everything, but something was driving him to risk it all. It wasn’t really about oil, or money, or power. It was about hate, like it always is with these guys, like it was with bin Laden, Hitler, Stalin, and all the people Harry had interrogated and arrested since he’d gotten into anti-terrorism. And it was a little bit about crazy, too, which led to the hate. Or was it the other way around?
Madox looked at Harry as though he knew that Harry Muller was thinking unkindly of him and asked, “Did you want to say something, other than ‘fuck you’?”
“Yeah. As a Federal law enforcement officer, I want to remind everyone that conspiracy to commit murder is a crime—”
Madox interrupted, “We’re talking about war, Detective Muller, not murder. Generals sometimes sacrifice troops—and even civilians—so that other troops can live to fight again.”
“Bullshit.”
Madox waved his hand in dismissal and turned his attention back to his Board members. “Gentlemen, on September 11, 2001, nineteen Islamic hijackers who had no good reason to do us harm, and who were not of the caliber of you men sitting around this table, carried through with their plan. Not one of them deserted, or informed on the others—and they went willingly to their deaths. I’m not asking any of us to sacrifice our lives—I’m only asking that we, as patriotic Americans, do no less to our enemies than our enemies did to us.” He concluded, “If they can do it, we must do it.”
A few heads nodded.
Madox said, “I’d like each of you, at this time, to give a yea or a nay to Project Green.” He turned to the deputy secretary of defense. “Ed?”
Ed Wolffer stood and said, “Gentlemen, what we are about to do takes courage and resolve, which is in no short supply here. And I believe that each one of us knows in his heart that what he is doing is necessary and right.” He paused, then continued, “This is not a time for us to think of ourselves and the personal risks we’re taking. It is a time to stick our necks out for our country—the way our men and women in uniform do every day.” He concluded, “I vote to implement Project Green.”
General Hawkins also stood and said, “As a military man, I have taken an oath to uphold and defend the Constitution, as you all have. I have also taken an oath to obey the commander in chief. I take these oaths seriously, and after much thought, I’ve decided that I can, in good conscience, vote to go ahead with Project Green.”
Paul Dunn got to his feet and said, “I wish this hadn’t been forced on us with so little time to fine-tune our plan, but we have to play the hand we’ve been dealt. I vote to go ahead.”
Scott Landsdale remained seated and said, “I have a strong feeling that this is the only chance we’re going to get. Harry Muller was not sent here to watch birds. Our best defense against any further government interest in our activities—and possible conspiracy charges—is to take the offensive. If we don’t use the nukes, we’ll lose the nukes.” He said, “I vote yes.”
Bain Madox stood and stared silently at the far wall, deep in thought. Then he looked at his Board. “Thank you for your courage and your loyalty. Indeed, you are all soldiers in the service of civilization.”
Harry said, “Good soldiers don’t murder civilians. Did you murder civilians in Vietnam? Is that what they gave you the Silver Star for?”
Madox glared at Harry and for the first time showed anger. “Shut up. You are not to speak until spoken to. Understand?”
“One last thing—fuck you.”
Bain Madox ignored him and began, “Gentlemen, we few men are the small army that can and will defeat the spread of Islamic fundamentalism and terror. We are but the latest, and perhaps the last, in a long line of good Christian men and women who have defended the faith and Western Civilization against Islam. Please be seated.”
Madox hit a few keys, and a map of Europe and the Middle East appeared on the monitor. “The Spanish and the French—before they lost their balls—fought the Muslims in the West. The Crusaders brought the war to the Muslim heartland. The Christians in the Balkans fought the Turks for half a millennium.”
He paused a moment, then continued, “Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the Polish king John, who, in the seventeenth century, when the Muslim hordes were poised to drive into the heart of Christian Europe, this man, without being asked by anyone, took his army from Poland and battled the Turks at the gates of Vienna.”
Madox looked around the table to make sure everyone was listening and continued, “No one has asked us to save Western Civilization, but we see the danger, and we will do what needs to be done. I believe that the Holy Spirit is guiding our thoughts and our actions, just as God guided King John, who had little to gain and everything to lose by coming to the aid of his Christian brothers at Vienna. Because King John knew, gentlemen, that if he didn’t stop the Turks at Vienna, then all of Europe would fall to Islam. And remember, no one else in Europe came to the aid of the beleaguered city—all of Europe chose to bury its head in the sand and pray that they would not be next. Sound familiar? But the Holy Spirit, gentlemen, entered the mind and heart of King John and told him what he had to do, told him that it was right and necessary, and that his victory over Islam would please God. And armed with the presence of the Holy Spirit, outmanned and outgunned, King John of Poland defeated the Muslim Turks and saved Christian Europe. This man neither asked for nor received any thanks or reward for all he’d done.”
Landsdale asked, “Not even an oil lease?”
Bain Madox ignored him and continued, “We, gentlemen, are like King John. We are all that stands between Western Civilization and the enemy at the gates. God has led us to this place and this time for a purpose. By sacrificing two American cities—which, like Sodom and Gomorrah, aren’t worth much anyway—we can prevent the enemy from destroying other American cities at his time and choosing. We are, in effect, saving Washington, New York, Seattle, Chicago, Atlanta, Dallas . . . Palm Beach . . . I want you all to understand and believe that, and to sleep easy tonight, and not be troubled in your hearts, your minds, or your souls.”
He looked again at each man. “If Jesus Christ himself were here, he’d say, ‘Strap on your brass balls, boys, and go for it.’”
The other four men glanced furtively at one another, but no one commented on Madox’s speech, or his imagined message from Jesus Christ.
Bain Madox took a swig of water, which Harry was starting to suspect was straight vodka.
Madox concluded, “Okay, I’ve said my piece. Now, I ask you to bow your heads in silent prayer and ask the Lord for strength, guidance, and maybe a little absolution in case He has any problems with this.” He called down the table, “You, too, Harry. Pray with us.”
Bain Madox bowed his head in silence, then reluctantly the others followed.
Harry Muller prayed that one of these guys would come to his senses or lose his nerve, or maybe get a better divine message than Madox was getting.
After a minute, Madox said, “Amen,” then said, “Cocktails start at five in the barroom, dress is casual. Poker in the game room, if anyone is interested. We have a new dartboard with Hussein’s face on it. Dinner is at seven-thirty, tie and jacket, please. Use the fireplace for your notes on the way out. This Executive Board meeting is ended. Tha
nk you for coming.”
The four men gathered their things and quietly filed out of the room.
Bain Madox and Harry Muller stared at each other down the length of the table.
Madox said, “It’s just you and me, Harry.”
Harry Muller sized up the situation. If he could coldcock Madox, then the window was his best chance. But if he could talk to the two goons outside, and tell them what was going on, that might be better than making a run for it.
Madox asked him, “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking I like this plan.”
“Bullshit. Hey, how did I do?”
“Okay.”
“Just okay?”
“You lost me with the King John thing.” Harry guessed he could be on top of Madox in under three seconds, even with the shackles.
Madox said, “It troubles me that you don’t get this. Do you want this fucking war on terrorism to go on until your grandchildren are old?”
“Look, pal, we have to take our hits, and we hit back. They’re not going nuclear, so we don’t have to go nuclear. You’re missing the point of Wild Fire.”
“No, I’m not. The point is, it works too well.”
“Yeah, that’s the fucking point.”
“It’s like this, Harry—if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, then Mohammed has to come to the mountain. Right?”
“Yeah, whatever.” He grabbed the heavy metal ashtray that Landsdale had used and flung it at Madox, then jumped to his feet as Madox ducked to avoid the ashtray.
Harry covered the ten feet in less than two seconds, but Madox was already on his feet, backpedaling toward the wall. Harry moved as fast as he could with the shackles, but Madox moved faster and drew a gun from under his jacket.
Harry lunged at Madox, who fired at point-blank range. Harry stopped, confused that he didn’t feel the bullet hit him, and aware that the gun had barely made a sound.
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