by Joe Nobody
Unlike the other recent arrival from the states, Richard was dressed in a manner more closely associated with the typical tourist. Donning a Caribbean sun hat to compliment his Hawaiian T-shirt, slacks, and Sperry Top-Side loafers, it was almost as if the senator had swapped roles with the man he was meeting.
There were, however, similarities between the politician and Mr. Church. Like the Department of Energy physicist, Hughes strolled through the resort’s grand foyer without paying the slightest attention to his surroundings. He was clearly a man of leisure, appearing to any onlooker as though he was merely checking in for a little rest and relation.
In reality, it was familiarity that prompted the senator’s casual demeanor.
“Good afternoon, Senator,” greeted the concierge as Richard entered the expansive lobby. “I hope your travels today haven’t been too stressful, sir.”
“Good day to you as well, William. I assume my office requested the usual accommodations?”
“Yes, sir, your regular suite is ready. I had a bellman unpack your personal items, and your first guest has already arrived. He’s waiting in the conference room.”
“Good, William. Impeccable service as usual. Have a fruit tray delivered to our meeting if you would? Something light. We may be dining there as well.”
“Of course, sir.”
A young lady appeared, her cinnamon colored hair and bright green eyes reminding the senator of a local lass who had endeared herself to him during a recent trip to Ireland.
“This is Libby, sir. She will escort you to the meeting room,” William informed the senator.
Displaying rows of perfectly white teeth, Libby smiled at the older man with the charm of a woman who was comfortable in the knowledge that she was desirable. “Right this way, please.”
Libby led Richard down a long, dreary hall. The senator couldn’t help but notice the way her curves were accented by the sway of her gait. It was obvious she possessed a marvelous body underneath that dull uniform. The politician started to fantasize about potentially bedding the young woman later, but quickly pushed the thought from his head.
He’d learned from the experience of other politicians that nothing ruined a political career faster than a sex scandal. The American public didn't care what party you belonged to… or whether you were up for reelection or not. “Taking such liberties” was considered an abuse of power and influence, and now wasn’t the time.
Once a politician had been caught partaking in such carnal leisure, his credibility evaporated instantly. The common sentiment was that if a man couldn’t be trusted to control his lustful urges, how could he be entrusted with the duties and responsibilities of a powerful office?
Even if he weren't going to run for office during the next cycle, the media would have a field day with such a story. The national press would spin the facts, making the issue seem more about the senator’s party and associates, and less about the fact that an older man was tempted by a lovely smile, fresh skin, and an ass that just wouldn’t quit.
Richard had learned to stay away from anything that would potentially ruin his career. This included disproportionate amounts of booze, gratuitous money, and excessive favoritism. And it had paid off – until the party bigwigs had yanked his leash. He’d made several allies in the Senate, along with a select number of high-ranking military officers. Now those relationships were about to pay off.
As he followed young Libby and her cute little bottom toward the conference room, the scope of the opportunity was at the forefront of his mind. The Texan and his invention offered a once in a lifetime opening. The undertaking would be difficult, but if it all worked out, the game in Washington would be changed forever.
They finally arrived at the meeting room. Libby opened the door for Richard, the senator greeting his grandson-in-law with a flashy smile. “If you need anything just give us a call,” Libby flirted.
Richard nodded, “Thank you, young lady,” and enjoyed one last peek as Libby sashayed out the door.
If we succeed, I’ll be able to partake of opportunities such as Libby’s charms without worry or guilt, the senator considered. I won’t give a shit what anybody thinks.
Strolling over to the table, Hughes took a seat and nodded toward Church’s stack of files. “Did you have any trouble bringing the records I requested?”
“No, sir. I have the data addressing the latest incident report if you want to go over it now,” answered Leonard as he indicated a folder on top of the stack.
“Let's wait until our other guest arrives, and then we can get started. He should be here anytime, and until then, I want to know how my granddaughter is doing. She never calls anymore,” lamented Richard.
A few minutes later, the third and final attendee arrived. At 6’3” and a rock solid 240 pounds, Admiral
Theodore Armstrong was hardly a low profile individual. With a shaved head, thick shoulders, and arms more resembling the tree’s trunk than mere limbs, the senior Naval officer had ascended the ranks through the Navy’s Special Forces programs, including a stint as the commander of the SEALS.
But it was more than just his physical dimensions that made Armstrong stand out. His stride was filled with purpose, his gaze unwavering and definitely unafraid. Here was a man who had endured confrontation at the most violent levels, and had not only survived, but thrived.
Only his weather-beaten face and gray eyes disclosed his advancing age.
Despite the new arrival wearing a white dress shirt, suit jacket, jeans, and dock shoes, Leonard knew immediately he was meeting with a career military man. That fact made him extremely uncomfortable.
The physicist’s attitude degraded further when Armstrong removed his jacket. With his eyes fixed on the officer’s shoulder holster, Church muttered, “Is that really necessary?”
Armstrong didn’t know what the pudgy, sweating scientist was talking about. “What?” came the gravelly voice. “What’s the problem?”
“He doesn’t like your firearm,” responded Hughes calmly. “He’s not accustomed to being around armed men, Ted.”
The admiral was going to let it go, but Church kept sneaking worried glances at the weapon’s black grip, almost as if he expected the pistol to draw itself and start blasting away.
“Look, son,” Armstrong began with a fatherly tone. “I spent the early days of my naval career hunting down and killing some dangerous men. I’ve exterminated the enemies of my country on five different continents. Some were drug czars, some liked to sell our foes weapons. Some were planning to make 9-11 look like a high school prom. Now, despite the years and miles, I never know when one of their sons, nephews, or widows is going to recognize me and seek revenge.”
The explanation seemed to have the opposite effect as intended. Church was now sweating profusely, practically squirming with discomfort. His eyes went to the conference room door as if he expected a band of masked gun to burst in at any moment.
“Let’s move on,” the senator interjected. “No doubt we are all a little weary from our travels. Let’s begin with what we know of the Olympus Device, shall we?
Leonard opened a file, shoving copies of a report to the two other men at the table.
“Gentlemen, I present the latest incident report concerning Weathers. As you both know, the Gulf Cartel recently tried to invade the city of Laredo in order to capture Weathers and his invention. Several civilian and law enforcement officers lost their lives during the incident; however, the tide was turned by Weathers’ involvement with the Olympus Device. Weathers singlehandedly annihilated nearly the entire force, including the Cartel's leader, Tio. Weathers’ current whereabouts are unknown,” Leonard concluded, having finished his Reader’s Digest version of the events.
“I always told the president that we needed protection for our borders. Now the media is burning him for it,” noted Richard.
“Leonard, you’re an expert in physics. Is it possible to create another rail gun?” asked Armstrong.
“It's possible, but you would have to reverse-engineer the current device. The inventor’s brother was being tasked with that project down at Texas A&M, but without the original to copy, progress has been sluggish.”
“Well, no one knows the whereabouts of the current rail gun. Do we have any data recordings of it being fired?”
“Right now, the only detailed analysis we have is with Professor Weathers. So far, he’s provided little hard data,” replied Leonard.
“He’s stalling for his brother,” observed Armstrong.
“How can you tell?” asked Leonard.
Armstrong grimaced, “I've looked at their profiles. The Weathers are a tight knit family. Mitch doesn’t want the technology used for military purposes, and he’s repeatedly lobbied for his brother to be pardoned.”
“This all leads to a dead end,” muttered the senator.
The admiral grunted, “Our death… or at least the demise of our nation. Speaking strictly from a military perspective, whoever possesses that device can dictate the global, political pecking order in its entirety. While a single unit could be dealt with, all of the analysis I’ve seen assumes that the weapon could be quickly duplicated in mass. A small infantry squad could easily defeat any army standing today. One shot could wipe out an entire carrier strike force. Submarines would become fish, ready to be shot in a barrel. Air power would still hold some advantages, but how long would it take bright minds to create a radar-guided version?”
The three men just sat there lost in thought. Finally, Armstrong continued.
“Perhaps we are going at this the wrong way. We know that every attempt the FBI has made to capture the rail gun has ended disastrously. Why don't we try a different method?”
“Like what?” asked Leonard, his tone indicating he wasn’t going to like the answer.
A harsh glance from Senator Hughes stopped the admiral from answering the question. An unspoken communication passed between the two men, the politician apparently sending the implicit message, “He’s not ready for that conversation.”
What followed was a peppering of the physicist, Admiral Armstrong throwing out one question after another.
“Do we know the power curve of the discharge?”
“Can the weapon be fired after an electromagnetic pulse?”
“Will it shoot under water?”
Again, the senator had to intercede, interjecting his own non-military questions to keep Dr. Church from becoming suspicious.
“Can we replace coal-fired power plants with this technology? Nuclear? How long will it take to develop automobiles that run on the rail gun’s principles?”
At one point, during a short break to use the facilities, Hughes pulled the admiral aside. “You’re pressing too hard on the military aspects. He’s naïve, but not stupid. Balance your questions with peaceful, soft inquiries for the benefit of mankind, or we take the chance that he’ll go back to Washington and start spouting off about this meeting.”
The get-together continued for over three hours, Dr. Church trying to provide insight and facts to what seemed like an unquenchable thirst for information.
Finally, Senator Hughes stood, stretching his frame and announcing that enough had been accomplished for one day. All agreed to reconvene in the morning.
Later that evening, the admiral met in private with Hughes. “I’ve run the numbers given the doctor’s input, and I believe we have a 74% chance of success if we possess the weapon. If the device is destroyed, the probabilities drop considerably below 50%.”
“Then we must acquire the Olympus Device.”
“That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? You heard the good doctor. Every attempt to capture the man has resulted in a mass of death and destruction. Together, our combined resources are significant, but if the entire federal government can’t locate or arrest the man, we don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell for success.”
The politician rubbed his chin, mulling the problem over. “Back in the meeting, you started to suggest an alternative method of dealing with our friend from Texas. Obviously, you’ve got something in mind.”
“Well, Weathers wants a pardon, as well as the government’s assurances that the technology will never be used for military purposes. So why don't we give him just that? I don’t know what you distinguished gentlemen in the Senate call it, but in my world, we use the term, ‘bait.’”
The senator immediately rejected the idea, “There’s no way the president will go for that. And even if we did convince him to meet the Texan’s demands, that doesn’t put the Olympus Device in our hands.”
But the military man wasn’t ready to give up on the concept just yet. “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. We convince the Blue Ribbon Panel to recommend opening negotiations with Weathers’ attorney… Kennedy, if I remember right. We’ll argue that a show of progress and goodwill can have nothing but a positive impact on our dear, chief executive’s public image and approval rating,” said Armstrong with a smirk.
Richard smiled slightly and chuckled. “I think I see where you’re going with this, Ted. Go on.”
“If the Feds earn Weathers’ trust, he might even show up at the meeting with the device. Once we know its location, there are a number of options available to us.”
“Spoken like a true politician, Admiral, but can we really convince the president to agree to this?” queried a cynical Hughes.
“Oh, he’ll have no choice. I’ll have some of my contacts drop a few rumors to the press. Military morale at an all-time low, several members of the general staff considering resigning, the Pentagon in disarray sort of thing. With all the current public outcry plus the risk of a damaged military on his hands, he’ll welcome having an out.”
Hughes sat quietly, his mind racing with the possibilities. Armstrong watched him carefully, secretly wondering if the senator had the intestinal fortitude for treason.
But was it really sedition? Armstrong was sick of the United States being the world’s unappreciated policeman. He’d lost so many friends and comrades, just to see the military thrown under the bus when things got rough. I only want our government to run the way the framers originally conceived, the admiral thought. Even they believed a revolution every few decades was a good thing. We’re merely doing this to restore our country.
Any doubt Armstrong had concerning his partner in treachery was annulled when Hughes finally spoke.
“You know I've been thinking. The president has shown a great deal of incompetence in this whole situation. It really makes me worry about what would happen if the rail gun were in the government’s hands with such a man in charge. Perhaps it’s time for a more capable group of patriots, such as ourselves, to take control and steer the United States in the right direction.”
The topic of seizing control of the United States was now on the table. Armstrong grinned widely, happy to see they were on the same page. “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing, Senator. I am sure that our original strategy of forcing the president to resign and the Congress to make some badly needed changes is a step in the right direction. However, in reality, I think we must consider taking things a step further.”
“Yes, it is time for a drastic change,” Hughes agreed. “Technology like the rail gun doesn’t come to light every day. It would be irresponsible to just sit around and watch such an opportunity wasted.”
“With the science of the rail gun, there will be nothing but progress. It solves so many problems we’re currently facing. Iran? Russia? Terrorists? With unlimited energy, who needs oil? Without the revenue from our gas guzzling society, our friends in the Middle East won’t be able to fund their radical allies. If North Korea won’t disarm, we’ll just crush their nuclear program with a single shot from the Olympus Device. I could go on and on.”
“All the while, free energy will create an economic boom the likes of which we’ve never seen. But none of this is going to happen if the men controlling the technology are incompetent, slithering
fools such as those that occupy the White House today. Our nation needs strong leadership, especially with the Olympus Device in the government’s hands.”
“Then we’re in agreement, Senator,” Armstrong nodded, extending his hand to the politician.
Hughes smiled and accepted the handshake. “For too long has the government failed the American people. I’m in full agreement that now is the time for us to step in and cut away the rot that is Washington.”
Armstrong nodded with approval. He sauntered over to the well-stocked bar and overturned two glasses. “A drink then, to seal a pact of revolution.”
“A toast then, to new beginnings and a prosperous new world – guided by us,” Hughes responded, raising his glass.
