On the fourth day, a van arrived from a local grocery, and Garza’s men proceeded to unload the bags and boxes of food into a golf cart that took the supplies from the gate up to the villa, which sat back from the road about seventy yards. The driveway, which they believed was a winding and twisting asphalt path, was shaded by the canopy of leaves from the trees to within ten feet of the villa. The heavy foliage made the path and most of the villa completely invisible to Ron and Tom. Shortly after the grocery delivery, another van arrived, carrying five burly men who appeared to be guards. They were let into the compound after a quick search, bringing the total number of guards to eleven.
The following morning, Garza arrived, just as Ron predicted, at about ten a.m. After a half-hour, he left again in a caravan of three vehicles. All three were big black SUVs with blacked-out windows. Tom jumped on his rented Vespa scooter and followed the Garza convoy as it headed into town. The scooter was the perfect vehicle for navigating the overcrowded streets and also perfect cover, since there were hundreds, if not thousands, of them in the resort town, making Tom appear to be just another tourist. The extremely heavy traffic afforded Tom the advantage over Garza’s large SUV convoy, since he could slip in and out of the traffic, stopping now and then, just long enough to let Garza pass him. Then he’d ride along behind Garza for a while before pulling ahead again to wait for Garza to arrive. Tom played the leap frog car chase game over and over as they crawled through the town.
After twenty minutes of Garza’s convoy crawling along the main drag doing the traffic mambo, Garza’s SUV convoy finally pulled into the local country club just south of town. His golf clubs were unloaded from the middle SUV directly onto a golf cart where a man had been patiently waiting. Stepping from the SUV with a cell stuck to his ear, Garza quickly settled into the cart’s driver’s seat, just as a second cart pulled up with two more men. A security detail of four men in two golf carts quickly followed them around the corner of the building. Tom, after making sure no one had noticed him, began taking pictures of the foursome using a telephoto lens from behind a stand of trees. Tom took his time with the picture taking, ensuring he had clear head shots in order to identify each of the men later. He also kept an eye out for Garza’s security detail, which seemed quite large, even for a guy who was some sort of drug kingpin.
In addition to the pictures, Tom took detailed notes about Garza’s security detail. Two of the security men walked the course with Garza about ten yards off to the sides and the rear. Two other security men fanned out across the course ahead of Garza by about a hundred yards. The two with the golf carts kept racing up and down the sides of the course, stopping only when a golfer was about to make his next shot or putt. A final two guards stood watch over Garza’s SUVs. Then, as a complete surprise, a fourth SUV pulled up a few minutes after Garza and his foursome had left for the course. Six additional men were inside. Four of the men exited the SUV and began walking the perimeter edge of the golf course in pairs going in opposite directions from the parking lot, while the other two used the SUV to patrol around the course outside the fence line.
While Garza played golf, he talked with the other men in his foursome individually, making this more a business meeting than a golf game. Each man provided Garza with a briefcase, which he tossed in the basket on the cart without opening.
Another bit of intelligence that jumped out at Tom was the fact that no other golfers were allowed on the course while Garza played, which Tom assumed was part of Garza’s security plan. The course itself was beautiful, with the majority of the course set on the low bluffs that overlooked the coastal road. The only exception was the eighteenth hole, which was located across the road from the rest of the golf course. It was set high on an elevated spit of land that jutted out into the water. The spit was maybe forty feet high with the beach running right up to the base of it, then petering out in a boulder field, framing the spit perfectly. It was quite stunning. The only access was by an elevated bridge that connected it to the rest of course.
As Tom checked out the eighteenth green, he noticed the guards taking a hard look at him. One of them even took his picture before he could mount his trusty Vespa and ride away. Yes, they took security very seriously around Mr. Garza.
Back at the villa, Tom let Ron know that Garza had additional security that wasn’t part of the villa team. He also shared how they had arrived at the golf course a few minutes after Garza and how they had patrolled the perimeter of the course while he played. They both agreed that they needed to have more eyes on this thing and called the boss, General Chip Clarett, for reinforcements.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bill Richland had spent his morning sorting files and collating them, trying to make sense of the mounds of data that the hacking programs were collecting. What had previously taken months to distill from raw data was now about to produce actionable results within a few days. Bill dreamed of the day that intelligence could be obtained in real time.
He had started with banking records of the members of the Brotherhood’s governments. He was more than a little surprised to find that the oil producing nations all received foreign aid from the USA. Even the nations that had been labeled as rogue nations or terrorist supporters received just as much or more than the other Middle Eastern nations not so designated. A quick mental calculation caused Bill to pull out a calculator to make sure his math was correct. It was.
The government of the United States was paying over half a trillion dollars to Middle Eastern and oil rich nations, like Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Oman, Aden, Lebanon, Jordan, Egypt, Syria, Iran, Libya, Morocco and others, to help build roads, schools, or to provide food and other humanitarian aid. We paid them to do these things, even though they controlled sixty-five percent of the world’s wealth, and their economic policies through OPEC drove our economy into the ground. What the hell is going on?
Bill called his staff and had them concentrate on finding all of the connections between the federal government and the Islamic nations. Something smelled very bad here, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He then called Steven, and after a short wait, he was connected.
“Bill, what can I do for you?” Steven cheerfully answered.
“I wanted to give you a head’s up about something that appears very promising,” Bill stated.
“Oh,” was all Steven replied.
“Okay, you know we’ve been gathering data about the worldwide movement of money. We’ve focused on the Brotherhood and their money movements, and as a sideline, we decided we would check out the home country of each of the main members.”
“Okay,” Steven replied absent-mindedly as he checked over a file he was reading when Bill had called.
“Yeah, what I found is very interesting. Did you know that our federal government pays out foreign aid to Middle Eastern nations, including the oil rich nations, to the tune of over a half a trillion dollars annually? The Feds even pay countries like Libya, Syria and Iran big chunks of change, despite they’re on the international terrorism watch list.”
Steven interrupted Bill at this point. “They what? How much?”
“Well, Libya received the smallest amount of money at about hundred million between the State Department, CIA, agriculture, and humanitarian aid. Then Syria is next, receiving two hundred and fifty million from State, and Iran is next, receiving eight hundred million. They’ve got the money spread out over a dozen departments, so it’s a real challenge to put the total together.”
“Jesus Christ! We’re giving aid to the enemy. How is this possible?” Steven asked.
“I’m sure that some idiot had a perfectly good reason to give money to our enemies, but I can’t think of one. Maybe they thought it would buy peace or something,” Bill suggested.
“Do we know how long they’ve been doing this?” Steven asked.
“No, but I’ll get someone working on it right away,” Bill stated.
“I know it might be far-fetched,” Steven stated as he thought the ide
a through, “but could they be using that money to pay for terror attacks against us?”
“It really doesn’t matter if they use the money we give them or not. By giving them the money, they are then free to spend money on terrorism that they would have needed to spend elsewhere. It’s blood money, any way you look at it. We’re either paying them a bribe to try and keep oil prices as low as possible or to stop attacks on Israel or maybe even to stop piracy. I can’t say for sure, but I’ll have someone find out,” Bill reiterated.
“Make this a priority, will you, because we need to know why we’re sending money to our enemies, what they do with it and who benefits from the payments. Do you think we can find that out? I don’t mean just what the press releases say, but what the real purpose is for money.”
“I don’t know about absolute proof, but we should be able to find plenty of very convincing circumstantial evidence,” Bill replied with authority. “Oh, yeah, I do have one last thing before we hang up. I know the financial issues beyond the illegal bribes is probably someone else’s area of concern, boss, but have you been made aware of the colossal trade deficit and the huge overall debt this country is in? It is as bad a problem as the terrorist problem is, maybe worse. They may even be connected. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Starks try to dump our own currency and join in with the Europeans under this new world currency they’re hawking. It’s backed by the spot price of crude oil. It stinks of a power play by the Middle Eastern leaders, using it as second weapon against the West. I’d bet my last breath on the fact the attacks on Houston and Hamburg were to help force the West to do as they say. So are we watching this, too?” Bill asked pointedly.
“I see this information every day, Bill, and I spend hours each day formulating the next move for the corporation in dealing with this crisis, but to be honest, I know it’s bad for the country, but my plate is full.”
“I understand, and that is exactly what the bad guys want—for you to be overwhelmed and forced to pick your battles, and once you have, they do an end run around you. The Brotherhood is doing this; I can just feel it in my bones. They’re setting us up, along with the rest of the world, to cut our legs out from underneath us when we refuse to accept that they are in charge. It’s written in the Koran that they are the chosen ones by Allah to rule the world in his name, and they must force the rest of the world to submit or kill them. Even without having the solid proof yet, I’d say that the money we’re giving them each year for schools and roads is tribute, not aid.
“It’s our political hacks’ way of trying to buy goodwill, where there is no goodwill to be bought. If we were to drop foreign aid altogether, I’d be willing to bet we’d see a substantial drop in the overall debt. But as long as that doesn’t happen, we’re doomed to financial ruin and the loss of our country,” Bill preached.
“It’s not that bad. If we would just elect a few people who will put America ahead of their own pockets, we can reverse what is happening,” Steven stated lamely.
“That’s bullshit and you know it, Steven. I strongly suggest we don’t wait too long to make our move on Starks and his cronies in Congress and the courts, or there will be no reason to bother because America will be gone,” Bill firmly stated. “You think about it and get back to me.”
“I guess I don’t need to think about it. You’re right. So who can we get to start finding out how much we waste each year on foreign aid?” Steven asked.
“I’ve got a few people in mind. I’ll contact them and see if they’re willing to help and let you know. It should only take a few days.”
“All right. Set the ball in motion, and I’ll do some homework on my end as well, through my financial connections,” Steven stated before he hung up.
Steven took a couple of minutes to write down a few notes before returning to the meeting he had been attending when the call came in. The meeting was with members of his research team. They were demonstrating the new personal computer that Kilauea was about release onto the market. The whole program had been in development less than three years, and with a few minor tweaks, it would be ready for the marketplace in the next sixty to ninety days. The operating system would rival Windows in every way, except it was based on crystal technology, and it called its pages Cells, as in multiple cellular organisms.
The tweak to be added was to be buried deeply within the programming. It was a subtle but effective program that would, first of all, eliminate all spy programs, gathering all of the information it could from them and feeding that information back to Kilauea’s stand-alone super computer. The purpose was to zero in on hackers, find them, and put them out of business. It was the worst virus program Steven had ever developed. It would eat right through every computer or computer system that had published a virus or spyware, except, of course, Kilauea computers and programs. Plus, it would provide subliminal messages to the operator, suggesting that they do the right thing and that those who did the right thing were the coolest of people. The software also suggested things like you should not steal and that you should not cheat. It went so far as to suggest that they should turn in anyone who did cheat. It also stated the user needed to believe in hard work and doing a good job, stay off drugs and to save sex for marriage. It even invoked “God Bless America,” in addition to concepts such as put man first, not animals; demand lower taxes and less government, better public education, and better politicians with strict term limits; that politicians should be public servants as a second part time career; don’t be a racist; don’t litter; don’t pollute the air or the water; demand that America stop buying foreign oil and have common sense environmental laws. The messages asserted it was one’s right to bear arms and to speak freely. Finally, it planted the idea to force Congress to require the United States drop out of the United Nations and kick the UN out of the United States.
If it went according to the plan, he would personally insert the hidden program on the final production master in just over a month. The computer itself would be available for the school shopping season, though he was going to give away a few dozen to every school in America. His engineers were even finalizing an adaptable version of the Cells operating system that could be installed on any computer by any manufacturer. That would be ready for the marketplace within the next two months. Schools with computers already would receive the free operating system. The new Kilauea personal computer was to be the lowest priced machine on the market with the largest number of features and largest amount of storage.
It was the first time Steven had ever considered doing anything like this, but after talking with Chip regarding how there could be subliminal programming going on right now with the current consumer electronics and computers, he knew that he had made the right decision in creating the new division and new product. He was the only one in his position with the power and the wealth to make it happen. As sure as the rain fell, Steven was sure it was happening. Someone either at the upper levels of the government or someone in a powerful industry position had planted a Trojan horse virus to change America’s thinking. Men like George Soros had that kind of money and influence. Plus, there was no end to the number of politicians who would love to have that kind of power. If you stopped and looked at how America had changed since the internet had gone public and the computer became a must-have home convenience, the evidence was there. Steven had looked and didn’t like what he had seen. So he was going to do his best to change it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The team arrived in Costa Rica three days later—everyone except for Steve, who was still on the mend at the Research and Development Center. Pam and the boys, Mike and Alex, judging by their swagger as they walked off the plane and went through customs, appeared to be well rested and fully recovered from their injuries suffered in Israel. Ron had arranged a separate villa for the newcomers just down the road from where Tom and Ron’s villa was, which provided them a different view of the Garza villa.
Fast Eddie Garza had remained at his beach house for the past
week, adhering to the same schedule every day. He swam first thing every morning, then had a big breakfast, then played golf. After golf, he had lunch at the club, and then it was back to the villa by two, where he took a siesta in the middle of the day with his girlfriend. His evenings began with another swim. Then he and his girlfriend went out for dinner, right at sunset, at the same restaurant every night, overlooking the bay. They finished each night by stopping off at one of the local hotspots, where Garza let his girlfriend dance for him, before returning home to bed around two or three in the morning. The only thing that did change were his golf partners. They were different every day, although several had been paired with him two or three times during the week.
Each day, there were at least two new golf partners, and sometimes, all three were new to the foursome. Tom was sure that a few of these golf partners were government officials who had stopped by to pay their respects and collect their graft. Also daily, briefcases were exchanged before they played golf. The team took pictures of every golf partner and (when possible) every houseguest that Fast Eddie entertained, and he entertained a lot.
After the first two weeks, Tom and Ron both felt they had yet to discover an exploitable chink in Fast Eddie’s armor. He was always very well protected. He was never in a position where he was exposed for more than a second or two and never the same place twice. Tom was beginning to think they’d have to have to call in a B-2 strike in order to get this guy. But Ron wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.
Reprisal!- The Eagle's Challenge Page 6
