Endangered Species: PART 1

by John Wayne Falbey

  The interior was comfortably decorated and furnished in homage to the style of a luxurious western ranch. The lodge had eleven separate bedrooms and bathrooms, a large dinning hall, ultra modern kitchen, library, gymnasium, and boardroom. A large separate facility housed staff, sheltered motor vehicles, and provided a few spare bedrooms and bathrooms for occasions when the main lodge was fully occupied. A tunnel connected the two facilities.

  The library had stone floors overlain with throw rugs that reflected Southwestern style and colors. The light switch on the wall beside the entrance to the library served two purposes. It did turn on the lights recessed in the lower part of the tray ceiling, providing accent for the fireplace and bookcases. But, if flipped ten or more times in rapid succession, the switch activated an electrical motor. The motor caused a three-foot by three-foot stone plate in the floor to recess and pull back under the adjoining flooring, revealing a set of steps leading down into a chamber beneath the library. There was a long, well polished, mahogany table and several comfortable chairs in the room. Bottles of fine wine were stacked in specially crafted shelving that kept each bottle in a prone position so its contents could work on the cork. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the chamber also were lined with lead and other more sophisticated materials that defied all attempts to probe the activities occurring there.

  The lodge was owned by a company that, in turn, was owned by another company that was owned by yet another entity, and so on through a mind-boggling chain of twists and convolutions that were impossible to decipher. The funds to acquire, develop and maintain the property, if the chain of ownership could be unraveled, were provided by three billionaire industrialist brothers. Alfred, Hermann, and Tomas Mueller were among the founding members of the Society. Its membership also included certain top military brass, politicos, and senior members of the security agencies that helped design the facility and kept it on the cutting edge technologically.

  Rhee turned down the gravel road and stopped in front of The Lodge, tires crunching on gravel and pine needles. The valets and most other employees had worked there for years. They knew that no one touched Levell’s black Cadillac Escalade other than Rhee. The staff helped the Korean transfer Levell from the rear of the SUV to his wheelchair. Once he had transported Levell into the main structure, Rhee returned to the vehicle and drove it around to the parking facilities in the second building.

  “Are the others here yet, Timothy?” Levell said to one of the staff members.

  “Yes sir, Mr. Levell. I’ll let them know you’ve arrived.” The man turned and headed toward the main living area of the building at a fast trot. He knew it was useless to offer to help Levell. The old man was extraordinarily tough and independent. He seemed unfazed by his disability. At times, Timothy and the other employees at The Lodge almost forgot about the spinal injury that had robbed Levell of the use of his legs. But he and the others had heard the stories about him, that, despite his age and the injury, Levell was physically and mentally very powerful. And his political power was even greater. No one who had any involvement with the Society, as a member or employee, had any doubt who its leader was.

  Levell propelled his wheelchair down a wide stone-paved hallway to the library and waited for the others to begin filing into the room. Impatience was his norm and today was no exception. He fidgeted in his wheelchair until the others began to arrive. Once all of them were there, Timothy flicked the light switch on the wall by the door to the library several times. The three –foot square section in the floor dropped quietly down and slid back underneath the adjoining portion of the floor. No one made a move to descend into the chamber below. Levell always went first. Not because he insisted; but because the others did. It was a matter of respect. Two powerfully built members of the staff lifted the wheelchair and its occupant and wrestled it carefully down the stone steps.

  Six people joined Levell at the table. He sat at the middle. In terms of group dynamics, it was the weakest position. Levell always chose to sit there for two reasons. It was a way of making a statement that he didn’t think of himself as more important than any of the others. It also spoke to the magnitude of his personal power that he could sit anywhere and would be the undisputed leader. The group’s number two, Marine Corps Major General Roscoe “Buster” McCoy sat at one end of the table. To prevent several of the others from squabbling over the seat at the opposite end, the Mueller brother in attendance that evening, Alfred, took it.

  The remaining guests included the chairman of the powerful Senate Armed Services Committee, and the Deputy Director of the CIA’s National Clandestine Service, an Air Force general who was the current chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The only woman among the group that evening, Maureen Delaney, was chief executive of one of the largest technology companies in the world. Over time at these meetings, she had gone from sitting wherever a chair was available to sitting next to Levell. It made Alfred Mueller, the oldest of the brothers at eighty-three, smile. These were two of his favorite people. Both were exceptionally intelligent and capable. He could see that, despite their mutual shyness around each other, something was developing between them.

  Levell looked around the table, his back ramrod straight. He was clear-eyed and, at seventy-three, his full head of iron-gray hair was cut short and neatly combed. He turned to his right and looked at Maureen Delaney for a moment longer than he had the others. She smiled sweetly and patted his hand that rested on the arm of the wheelchair, causing him to blush slightly.

  “As usual,” he said, “I thank each of you for coming. It seems these meetings are becoming more frequent.”

  “More shit keeps hitting the fan,” McCoy said. His voice was a low growl, appropriate for a forty-year veteran of the Marine Corps. He also was Levell’s oldest and closest friend. Realizing he had cursed, he pulled the unlit stub of a cigar from his mouth and said, “Oops, sorry Maureen.”

  “Not to worry, General. As I’ve told you before, I grew up in an Irish Catholic family with six older brothers, all of them Marines. I’ve heard far worse.”

  “Buster’s right. Things are intensifying,” Levell said. “They have been ever since Chaim Laski was removed from the scene.”

  The CIA’s Clyde Seaton said, “We knew Laski was a glorified bagman laundering funds from the Russians and using it to support a variety of left-wing causes. But I, for one, am a bit surprised that his death didn’t cause a more substantial disruption in those activities.”

  “It just demonstrates how well organized and powerful these devils are,” the senator said.

  McCoy pulled the cigar from his lips again and said, “And how deeply entrenched they are.”

  “Why shouldn’t they be?” Seaton said. “They’ve been at this for generations, infiltrating and subverting the news media, unions, educational institutions down to preschool levels, the entertainment industry, anything that helps them reinforce their message and recruit more and more voters.”

  “As we’ve all said before, it may take a generation, likely two, to undo all they’ve done. It will have to be a bottom up effort to capture control of one of the major political parties and change the national direction,” Delaney said.

  “Laski was just a tool. So are the Russians and any other enemies of the American democracy,” Mueller said. “They’re all fools, but dangerous ones, letting themselves be used, yet blind to that fact because of their intense hatred of the United States.”

  “Well,” Levell said, “we all know who really is behind this.”

  Around the table, the others nodded their heads.

  “AGU, the Alliance for Geopolitical Unity,” the Air Force General said. “And isn’t it ironic that most of us sitting around this table also are members of it.”

  McCoy snorted. “Cliff and I are the only ones who aren’t. Good thing the rest of you are. It’s good to have spies in the enemy’s camp.”

  “Membership in AGU is almost mandatory for those of us who are at the top of their games in poli
tics, industry, academia, the military and other important disciplines,” the senator said.

  Delaney said, “It’s a prerequisite for achieving and maintaining a pinnacle position in one’s chosen profession, and has been ever since it was founded by a group of international bankers and their cronies.”

  “Their goal is to further their control of wealth via a world banking monopoly to be empowered and protected by the establishment of a global government. It’s something that has driven the Left for generations.” Seaton said.

  “Unfortunately, its inner sanctum is ruled by a cadre that consists solely of international bankers and financiers.” Delaney said. “None of our SAS members have been admitted to that group.”

  Levell chuckled. “But the secretary of the treasury is a member and he has a very loose tongue around his mistress. She happens to be on our payroll.”

  Sitting back in his chair, the Air Force general said, “Throughout history, there have been countless efforts to create the idyllic society, one in which there is no poverty, war, economic inequality, or social injustice. The end result has always been the loss of personal freedoms, including freedom of speech, freedom of action, freedom of self-expression, freedom in the choice of work, freedom of conscience, even freedom of thought. All in the fantasy that individuals can’t make good decisions; only a central, dictatorial person or autocracy can create a better life than the individual.”

  Delaney said, “The evidence of AGU’s end game is clear—fostering global socialism, the push for international disarmament, and gun control laws at home to prevent the possibility of a citizens’ revolt. Add to that the destruction of currency values through legislation that promotes market bubbles, which cause financial collapses, leading nations into bankruptcy, and ultimately the creation of a global currency and one-world economy controlled by the leaders of AGU.” She looked at Levell then continued. “It’s frightening to know that the Federal Reserve System was formed by the same people who founded AGU, and who control its every move.”

  “As Baron Rothschild, the international banker, wrote, ‘Give me control over a nation’s currency and I care not who makes its laws’,” McCoy said, with the unlit cigar still clamped between his teeth.

  “Yes, yes,” Mueller said impatiently. “None of us would be sitting here today if we did not understand the gravity of the situation and the effectiveness of our opponents’ insidious tactics. Nor do any of us underestimate how dangerous our actions are to each of us personally. If we had not created our own organization, the Society of Adam Smith, and carefully recruited and vetted our members, we could not hope to effectively combat AGU. But, for us here today, the pressing issue is measuring whether our strategy is succeeding.”

  * * *

  Levell and the others broke for dinner. He was in the lounge area near the dining hall enjoying a pre-dinner cocktail with McCoy and Delaney when Rhee motioned to him from the entrance. He rolled his wheelchair over to the Korean and followed him a short distance down the hall. Rhee purposely made no attempt to assist Levell. He knew the man’s pride would forbid it in Ms. Delaney’s presence.

  “What is it, Mr. Rhee?” Levell said.

  In heavily accented English, the Asian man said, “While in meeting, you get call from Mr. Whelan.”

  “Whelan?” There was a note of surprise in Levell’s voice along with a trace of concern.

  Rhee’s attitude never reflected emotions; he was the essence of stoicism. “He say very important. He want you call him quick.” He handed Levell the special satellite phone. It had an extraordinarily high degree of encryption and operated on a system of communications satellites that was owned and operated by a Brazilian company. It, in turn, was owned through a series of other international entities that ultimately were controlled by the Mueller brothers. The satellites operated commercially, but also harbored highly encrypted communications accessible only by persons specifically designated by the Muellers. That meant certain members of the Society, including Levell and a handful of others.

  Levell nodded to Rhee and the small, wiry man began pushing him down the wide, stone paved hall to a room that appeared to be an extraordinarily well-equipped media room. Artfully concealed in the A/V equipment was the communications gear necessary to send and receive messages over the Sat phone. The antenna on the roof was indistinguishable from a lightening rod.

  Following the destruction of Chaim Laski and his financial network, Levell and other highly placed members of the Society had arranged what appeared to be the deaths of Whelan and his fellow operatives in the Sleeping Dogs. Afterwards, the Society had helped each of the men to go to ground. In the process, Levell had provided Whelan with one of the special Sat phones. He knew the Irishman wouldn’t use it without an extraordinary reason. He didn’t like the thought of that.

  As soon as he heard Whelan on the other end of the call, he said, “Back from the dead, are we?”

  “Like a bad penny.”

  “I assume you have a very good reason for this call.”

  “I do.” Whelan paused for a second then said, “Maksym.”

  There was silence for a few moments. Levell broke it. “Has he become a problem?”

  “He tried to kill me and my family.”

  Levell let the statement sink in for a moment. “Unsuccessfully, obviously.”

  “This time.”

  “So, you were right about him eventually seeking his revenge.”

  “He’s my brother. He’s like I am; take no prisoners.”

  “He didn’t come personally, did he?”

  “No. He sent five Ukes.”

  “Five! Dumb ass. Like that would ever be enough.”

  “He won’t make that mistake next time.”

  Levell appreciated the concern in Whelan’s voice. “What actions are you taking to be ready for a ‘next time’?”

  “It’s clear that he knows where we are. Any ideas how he might have gotten that intel?”

  Levell thought about the question for a few moments. “No. As far as I know I’m the only person who has that information, and I sure as hell didn’t share it with anyone.”

  “He might have figured it out. He and I were born near Dingle. It would just be a matter of time before he pinpointed the Fianna. But there also is a possibility that the information might have been leaked by someone in the Society.”

  “So, I’m asking again, what do you plan to do?”

  “Caitlin’s extended family is large and tightknit. We have armed people watching us constantly, but that won’t stop Maksym indefinitely. They’re no match for him.”

  “What would you like me to do at this end?”

  “Let the others in the unit know that someone may be coming after them, too. Maksym found me; he can find them.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can from here. Be prepared; there are things developing that will require your services.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that, Cliff. I told you after the Chaim Laski operation that I’m retired from wet work.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice in the matter, Whelan. If you still care about the country that took you and your parents in and provided opportunities you’d never have found anywhere else, then the Dogs are going to have to be reactivated.”

  There was a long pause. Finally, Whelan said, “What’s the problem, Cliff?”

  “This nation is quickly reaching a point where it can’t effectively oppose its enemies. The current administration has weakened the country by, among other things, polarizing the population along racial and economic lines, destroying the middle class, reducing its military power and space program, leading from behind in global affairs, and eschewing a rational foreign policy.”

  “Is it just the president and his party, or are there others involved?”

  Levell made a sound that wasn’t like anything Whelan had heard him make in the past. It sounded very much like a weary sigh. “You’re very observant. No, it’s much deeper than that. There’s an org
anization, the AGU or Alliance for Geopolitical Unity. Its members are the top financial people in the world, Wall Streeters and their ilk around the globe.”

  “What’s their role in this?”

  “Greed. They want a planetary banking monopoly. Their goal is to create a one-world government. The international bankers control it, but they include among their membership lackeys in the mass media, education, and entertainment who push propaganda of ‘humanism’ and world brotherhood, while opposing such ‘selfish’ things as nationalities and patriotism. Their strategy includes eliminating middle classes, destroying confidence in currencies, massive debt structures. They intend to weaken America and take it out of the international mix.”

  “Why is the current administration playing along with this?” Whelan said.

  “A recent editorial in the Wall Street Journal summed it pretty nicely. It pointed out that those on the left don’t seem to grasp that the one-grand-scheme-fits-all compulsion is out of sync with the individualization that technology lets people design into their lives today. Rather than resolve the complexities of public policy in the world we inhabit, the left’s default is to simply acquire power, then cram down what they want to do with one-party votes or by fiat, figuring they can muddle through the wreckage later. Making the unworkable work by executive decree or court-ordered obedience is one way to rule, and maybe they like it that way, but it isn’t governing. And it certainly isn’t in the best interests of the American people.”

  “What about the opposition party in America? Aren’t they capable of combatting these actions?”