SILVER-2 (NORRIS FILES)

by Marshall Huffman

  "Fair enough. If I'm not there by 1:15 P.M., you take off and leave me alone, agreed?"

  "Agreed," he said and without further comment he turned and walked to his Rocky and headed back towards Georgetown.

  About three miles down the road he came to an unpaved crossroad. He turned right and drove for a further half mile. He came to a fenced in courtyard with a gate

  across the drive. He got out and pushed a hidden button and the gate opened. He drove the car into the yard and under the car port. He got out and opened the house. It was hot and stuffy inside. He went from room to room and opened the windows and turned on the ceiling fans. He checked out the refrigerator and found only ice cubes in the freezer and an open box of baking soda. He took out the tray of ice cubes and made himself a glass of water. It tasted terrible.

  After he retrieved his bags from the Rocky and went to the bathroom he decided to head into town and pick up some supplies. He went to the hidden safe and placed the two metal containers inside. He changed clothes and headed to Georgetown.

  It took close to 30 minutes to reach the village and soon he found himself on the strip that turns into Seven Mile Beach. He was saddened to see how much it had changed since his last visit. So much had transpired in this sleepy little town over the past twenty years.

  Now you could find Burger King and KFC, along with other American franchises, that had sprung up over the years. Two big cruise ships were in the harbor and a fleet of taxis were waiting to take the tourist laden with too much money, to various destinations. Dive boats skimmed across the water loaded with excited divers out to discover the adventures of the great wall. They would be filling out log books about the splendor of the silent world just a few yards off the busy strip.

  On impulse, he decided to head to Parrot's Landing and rent scuba equipment for a quick dive at Devils Grotto. It was one of his favorite dive sites in the entire world. When the silversides were in, it was like nothing else in the world. Millions and millions of small fish twisting and winding their way through the thousands of coral tunnels in that area. He presented a C-card and rented a tank, regulator, BCD, mask, snorkel, weight belt and fins.

  He usually dove with a computer but decided against it this time because of the relative shallow dive. The Grotto is only a few yards off shore and can be easily reached by simply snorkeling. He knew it was a cardinal sin to dive alone but he was willing to take the risk this time. It was exhilarating as always. He never tired of the marvel of the place.

  The silversides were not in on this visit but the time quickly passed as he explored tunnel after tunnel. The sea is the last frontier on this planet that can be discovered by the average person. He felt sorry for those who would never understand its beauty.

  After finishing his dive he returned his gear and headed into town to pick up provisions. He bought some snacks and a few beers then headed back to the house. Along the way he stopped at the Lighthouse Bar and had a bowl of their island black bean soup, a conch burger and a couple of Coronas. Life was good.

  He arrived back at the house under a clear sky with a full moon. It was staggeringly beautiful. The next day was typical, clear as a bell and the humidity was just starting its climb. He retrieved the two cases and headed back into Georgetown. This time his destination was the center of town where the financial district is located. Within a couple of hours he had formed the Giland International Corporation, with assets of three hundred thousand American dollars. Few questions are ever asked by the Cayman banks so lying was unnecessary. It worked well for both parties.

  He had finished his business by noon and had a leisurely lunch before heading to the blowholes. Right at 1:00 P.M. Zane drove up in his rented Jeep.

  "I'm always amazed at this place," he said, as Zane walked up to where he was standing.

  "Yeah, it's one of my favorite places on the whole island. I often come here to just think," Zane replied.

  "Imagine how much power it must take to shoot the water 50 feet or more into the air like that. Truly amazing."

  "I'm here," Zane said.

  "Yes. I rather expected you would be. Here is the situation. I have been contracted to arrange an assassination. I have agreed to the contract. Your part will be strictly recon. No other involvement. You will recon the cities I supply you with and make your recommendation. No one else will be involved as far as you’re concerned. It's really that simple."

  "Oh no. There is more to it than that. You’re not about to pay me one million to just do recon work. What's the rest?"

  "Nothing. Hell Zane, you won't even be in the States when this is pulled off. You can be right back here on the island if that's what you want."

  "I won't have to be a handler?"

  "Zane, you make the reports, deliver the weapon and take off. That's it."

  "Ah, deliver the weapon. So now I am involved further. Small detail."

  "Don't be a jerk Zane. For a million bucks you can surely bring yourself to deliver a weapon. You won't be the handler this time."

  "No more frickin' Oswalds, you hear? I’m too old for that shit. "

  "No Oswalds. Just do the information gathering, drop off the weapon and haul ass."

  "For that, I get a million dollars. American dollars right?"

  "Absolutely."

  "This means another President doesn't it."

  "Don't be so sure. 've said nothing like that have I Zane?"

  "You don't have too. A million for scouting work. Hell that tells the tale right there."

  "Like I said, that's your speculation, and actually it doesn't figure into the equation right now does it?"

  "No, I guess not. When would you want me to start?"

  "I don't know just yet. Other plans are being formulated as we speak. You just need to be ready.

  Once I call, you will need to move fast. We are under a time constraint. I must fulfill the contract before June 1st."

  "Why? Wait, don't tell me."

  "I wouldn't anyway."

  They talked for a few more minutes as Zane learned further of the general outline of the plan. He was stunned when he was told about the SILVER - 2.

  "I had no idea they had produced a weapon like that. You mean to say you have procured the weapon?"

  "Procured is a good word. Yes, it's in my possession."

  "You have the shooter as well?" Zane asked.

  "Let’s say, I have a line on him. Actually, I have three in mind, but one is a notch above all the rest. That is not a major concern. You don't need to know anything further for now, understand."

  "Sure, sure. Over 9,000 feet accurately? Man that changes all the rules."

  "Yes it does. That's why I told you about it. You will have to look at unconventional locations. Areas that used to fall outside the realm of practical are now primary locations. So, I take it you’re going to accept the offer?"

  "I am. But you understand this is the last time. Never again. If you know what's good for you, it will be your last time as well," Zane said.

  "It's my last go round as well. We have both been in this far too long. Neither of us needs this stuff anymore."

  "What about identification. Do you want me to arrange it or did you bring me ID?"

  "No I didn't. I wasn't sure you wanted any. Look, you haven't stepped foot in the US since 1968 have you? They aren't going to be looking for you after all this time. Hell, that was before all their stuff was on computers. I don't think they will have any interest in you, but if you want, I can arrange for a complete ID package or you can take care of it yourself. We would both use the same source wouldn't we?"

  "Hell you’re right. It would be a lot simpler not have to go through all that B.S. again."

  "It's your call. You don't even have to tell me your plans. You just be ready to go when I call. Here is a hundred thousand for now. I'll have another four hundred thousand transferred to your account within the next couple of weeks. The rest will be deposited when your work is done."

  "Damn trusting o
f you. What makes you so sure I won't just take off with the money?"

  "Well Zane, that means I would have to hunt you down and ......well you know."

  "Hey. I was just kidding."

  "Me too," he said as he walked off towards his rented Rocky.

  "I'll be in touch soon," he said as he started the motor and drove off.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The rain was coming down harder as the limo eased its way through the heavy Washington traffic. It was just a little after 2:00 P.M. when Robert Henderson entered the Randolph House. The doorman was surprised when he saw him come through the door. Usually he was told in advance when a dignitary was coming.

  "Mr. Vice President, It's an honor to see you again sir."

  "Well thank you Smithers, nice to see you again too. I have a meeting with my good friend Linden Schranz. Has he arrived yet?"

  "Oh, yes sir. He has been here for some time. He is in the Woodrow Wilson Room. That's at the top of the stairs, first door to your right."

  "Yes, yes I know where the Wilson Room is Smithers. Nice to see you again, by the way, how are those three kids or yours. Growing like weeds I suppose."

  "Yes sir. Thank you for asking," he said startled that he had not only remembered his name but that he had three children as well.

  Never forgets a name they say, it must be true he thought.

  Albert climbed the stairs and entered the Wilson Room without knocking. He walked over to Linden and shook his hand.

  "Pardon me for saying this Lin, but you look like hell. What's the matter? Did you get your pecker caught in the wood pile again?" he joked.

  "Rob, you know me far better than that. That I could handle, maybe even be a little proud of it at my age. No Rob, I'm afraid it's a lot more serious than that," he said solemnly as he walked over to the wet bar. "What can I get you to drink? Single malt scotch, neat?"

  "You bet. Cardhu or O'Ban would be great if they have it," the Vice President replied.

  Linden made the drinks. He handed one to Robert along with a glass of water. Robert mixed in a small amount of water and tasted it.

  "Ah, perfect. Now Lin my boy, tell me what's got such a bee in your bonnet?"

  "Robert, what I am about to tell you is not only serious but could be dangerous as well," Linden said sternly.

  "Oh hell Linden, if you’re about to tell me that the President, or more precisely, the First Bitch, has decided to drop me from the ticket next time, I already know."

  Linden nearly spit out his drink. He stared at Robert for a few seconds before stuttering, "How in the hell did you know? Only three people are supposed to have that information."

  "Well, I can see I hit the nail right on the head. Hell you have been around long enough to know if two people know something in this town, then everyone knows. You cannot keep a secret in Washington D.C."

  "How and when did you find out Rob?" Linden asked starting to settle down.

  "How doesn't matter. I found out about it a couple of weeks ago. I was going to talk to you about it the next time I saw you. So here we are and I'm talking."

  "Christ Rob. I appreciate that you think you are one up one me but you don't know the half of it. Rob I caught wind of this nearly a year ago. I finally got conformation last spring."

  It was the Vice Presidents turn to be flustered.

  "Like hell you say. Are you trying to say that Harriett Richards decided to drop me almost a year ago? I don't believe it."

  "Well Rob its true. I can now prove it. Actually the plan was made even before then. Back when you were picked as the running mate they had decided to use your influence to help them sweep into the White House. It worked too. You were considered dispensable. Once they were in they would discard you."

  "Horseshit, Linden."

  "Alright Robert, tell me one significant thing that they have included you in since taking office. Name just one and I'll shut up."

  Robert just looked at his friend. It was true and he knew it really.

  "Ah hell Lin. No president ever includes the V.P. It's the rule here in Washington. Job protection."

  "Do you know the rest of the plan? Not only are the dynamic duo going to drop you from the ticket but who do you think they have marked to replace you?"

  "I've heard a couple of names mentioned, but know I don't know who. I suppose you do or you wouldn't be so smug. So who is it?"

  "Harriett Richards."

  "Harriett Richards what? What do you mean? You’re not trying to tell me that she is going to be nominated as Calvin's running mate. That's ridiculous. Who told you this bullshit?" he said, raising his voice.

  "Calm down Rob. I told you it was serious."

  "Crap, Linden. Someone is jerking you chain. That can't be true."

  "Look, let me show you something that will prove what I'm saying," Linden said reaching into his pocket and bring out a piece of stationary, "Sit down and read this."

  He handed the paper over to the Vice President. It was a photocopy of White House stationary from the Office of The First Lady. The writing was clearly Harriett’s. Robert had seen it far too many times to dismiss it as a fake. He read the note and sat it down quickly on the table in front of him as if it were a snake that could bite him. It was addressed to The President of The United States, Calvin Richards. He forced himself to lean over and read it again:

  To: President Richards

  FROM: The First Lady

  RE: Vice President

  Calvin,

  The timetable stands as initially outlined to you. I do

  not intend to deviate from that plan. Your fondness for

  Robert is touching but your concern for who may have

  found out is ridiculous. Rest assured that no one but

  you, Wilber Wainright and myself know of our

  intentions. No one from Henderson's office could have

  gotten wind of this unless you talked. I will assume

  that is not the case. We will maintain the same

  schedule I had originally outlined:

  June 1 Announce that Robert will no longer be able to fill the position

  of Vice President His failing health will be the main reason. You will be seeking a new person with far more vision.

  July 22 You will announce that after an exhausting search you have selected the perfect running mate. The name will be announced on national television on July 30th.

  July 30 Announce that I am the person best qualified for the position. By then Robert's health will be a significant factor and should make it all the more acceptable. I cannot imagine anyone doubting my ability anyway.

  August 1 Start national television and news media blitz to

  unite the party behind us. Calvin, I have told you over and over, I will take care of Robert. His failing health will be my job. You have no need to know of the details. I intend to be the next Vice President of The United States. I will see you at the reception tonight. Do not be late.

  H.

  The Vice President read the note over several more time as if transfixed. Finally he stood up and walked around the room.

  "God Almighty. I knew she was an evil woman but who would have ever suspected she would go this far. What does she mean, 'my failing health'? I'm in great shape. She can't be serious."

  "You know damn well she is as serious as a heart attack, no pun intended. Your failing health, as she puts it, sounds sinister at best. Rob, the woman intends to see to it that you are not fit for office. She and Wilber Wainright have something cooked up, you can bet on that. They want to keep Calvin out of the loop," Linden said.

  "I should have seen this coming. Man, she is one evil person. If what you say is correct the stage was set some time ago. She has it all worked out. Even my demise is figured into the equation. Am I dumb, blind or just too stupid to see this coming?"

  Linden didn't say anything. Robert needed to work this out for himself.

  "This means they intend to rule the White House for the next four years a
ll by themselves," Robert said.

  "Think again friend. I know for a fact that she intends to elevate to the Presidency once Calvin has completed his next term. They intend to control the Government for the next twelve years."

  "You can't be serious. The country will never allow it."

  "Maybe they won't, but that doesn't mean they won't give it a hell of a try. What's to stop them? It's legally possible as you well know."

  "No. No. No. They can't get away with this. I'll go to the media. I'll expose the entire plan," Robert shouted.

  "Easy Rob. Think about it. If you blow the whistle they will start a smear campaign to discredit you. They have the media power to do it. You will be made to look like a feeble old man that is inept and bitter. They will kill you in the press. Trust me; you cannot win a war of words with the Richards. You see what she is capable of. Do you think she will let you derail her carefully laid plans? Do you Robert? She thrives on this kind of thing."

  "Oh God. What are we going to do? Twelve years of the Richards will destroy this country Linden. You know that as well as I. What are we going to do? This country cannot stand twelve years of onslaught by the radicals. We can't just let this happen."

  "Well this is for real. They have plans to insure their success. Did you know that they intend to nominate Judge Del Ray Brooks to the Supreme Court? I swear it's true."

  "Brooks, the self-proclaimed homosexual activist? That's outrageous. No way."

  "Think of what that means Rob. Where will the moral values of this country be? Listen to me. They have it all planed out. Don't you see? Even your health, whatever that means, has been factored into the master plan. Rob, before I came here today I met with some business associates. They know what's in store for the country. They are looking at alternatives. I just need to know if you are willing to listen to what they come up with."

  "Hell Robert, I'll listen to anything that is reasonable. This is an abomination. Sure I'll listen but keep in mind that the plan has to be totally legal. I won't go along with something crazy. I'm no Linden Johnson," Robert said evenly.