And the Meek Shall Inherit (Harbinger of Change Book 2)

by Timothy Jon Reynolds

  “I would advise against that,” answered Ray. “You have to look at the facts here. They’ve sought nothing. If our Japanese and Middle Eastern friends have taught us nothing else, it’s that you can’t negotiate with a fanatic.”

  Lawrence stood, stretched, and, for lack of a better term, said he was “sick of this shit.” Then he regained a bit of composure before continuing. “First, we need to silence them and blind them by taking away that satellite. So unless someone has a better idea, I’ve had the Sec-D on the phone and the approval for the strike has been set in motion. I’m going to give the green light. This is a collateral damage situation for sure, but the onus is on us as this killer satellite hits our group first. By our estimations, the next burst will be a costly one. Not just to us; the Chinese and Russians will be affected after us, too. Hell, we haven’t even heard one word from the Chinese in all this and what we have heard from the Russians isn’t very helpful. They both seem to be sitting back and waiting to see where the dust settles.”

  “Smart move if you ask me,” said General Early. “As a nation, we’ve only used our nuclear arsenal as a deterrent to greater loss. They know they have us by the balls.”

  Kim took the reins this time, “Well, Gentlemen, I can’t even begin to tell you what will happen if this satellite runs amok.”

  “‘The Great Change,’” uttered the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

  “Yes, that’s right, Mitch,” replied Kim. “And who knows what hardship that will bring to the U.S., seeing we have over four hundred satellites up there.” That was her parting shot as she left.

  Kim left the meeting as the topic was heading toward the Bush Group, Admiral Anders was speaking at the moment and she needed to meet with the Secretary of Defense. Terry Dianato was a hard man to grab by the tail these days and she needed to talk about after their satellite goes down. Plus, Lawrence had been doing just fine on his own in there. He made a very good point of the dangers of letting martyrdom help them turn this into a bigger movement than it already was.

  He’d really been holding his own and she was proud of him, but the decisions were very hard now and they weren’t going to get easier. Kim was sure that after the satellite was gone, Hurst would do what Ray said; and that was to contact them on the Ham Radio frequency he listed on his email to the pilot.

  Kim needed to inform Dianato that based on the Intel that Hurst brought out, they might have to act in a matter of minutes because for all they knew, the target would be moving and if they didn't strike immediately, they might miss the opportunity.

  She realized that his was not an easy job, but as the son of an Italian immigrant from the Bronx, Terry’s life had never been easy. She knew that he got his start in Upstate New York as a prosecutor, and like the President, he took no favors and made his way up the ranks through honesty and integrity.

  He came into the political light through a special election when a former congressman died mid-way through his term. The rest was history, as he made his bones on asking hard questions and taking no prisoners. Where others were either too afraid or too controlled by special interest groups to act, he wasn’t.

  Terry Dianato was the person to stand up and do something about the things he saw wrong, and with friends like TJAC behind him, he was a natural for Caulfield’s Cabinet.

  With Kim gone, Admiral Anders normally felt Lawrence tended to look weaker and more vulnerable as he took over a meeting she had left. He no longer had that feeling as the President addressed his gathered military minds. “As you can see by the packets in front of you, none of our ships picked up any incoming warnings, just some schools of fish prior to the attack. Even the Utah.”

  “The Utah? I wasn’t aware any of our attack subs were hit, Mark,” said General Early, quick to jump in, “I thought we pulled her back as a precaution?”

  “Turns out no, the sub was hit by a squib. No serious damage to the sub, but it did strike the propulsion area.”

  That was sobering for the President as he considered using subs to launch on the facility once the satellite was gone. Mark Anders added, “It occurs to me that we can’t trust those waters now anyway, the Reagan carrier group will be in position to strike from the Atlantic by 1400 hours tomorrow. So if we disable their bird in the sky, then they will be crushed between a rock and a hard place. We never have to endanger the Utah.”

  * * *

  The Hot Line from Moscow started to ring. General Hatten spoke first, “I think they see us fueling the ICBM.”

  The President issued to the room in general, “Well, if we don’t do this now, it’s just a matter of time before it gets to them, so I don’t know what they’ll add here.” He answered the phone professionally, “This is President Lawrence Caulfield.”

  * * *

  “Miro, it’s indisputable. They’re fueling a rocket in Kansas.”

  The Russian President responded to his Chief of Staff, “That’s madness. They planned to do this with no notifications?!”

  “I believe they suspect what we’re doing and this is their retaliation. It will be unprecedented.”

  “Yes it will, but all this is. You know we can’t let that happen. We have assets in the area that this bomb would ruin.”

  “Well, if we’re going to use it anyway, Miro, we might as well make a friend in the process rather than an enemy. When they figure out we could have saved them, it will be the pathway to a new Cold War. You can never have too many friends, Miroslav.”

  “Very true, Thion, very true.”

  * * *

  Pablo came into the room with the air of a nobleman, but truthfully she was biased. He always looked noble to her. He carried a flat plastic piece with a cable coming off it. As he got nearer to her she saw it was a portable console with two buttons on it, one white, one black. He looked into her eyes—but something about him had changed, something happened in the last twenty minutes to make a change in the resolve that had just been there. But it was more than resolve as Pablo always carried an unintentional hubris that one carried when one was the Messenger of God.

  He picked up on it by her expression and made it go away in an instant, but it was there and she couldn’t help but wonder what could have brought doubt to him? They walked over and Pablo plugged the console into their workstation via USB. A few pushes of the keys and his countdown clock appeared on their screens.

  He looked at her and said, “Once we both push our buttons together, the program will start.” Pablo looked at Vera who was watching him with rapt attention, trying to see that crack in the facade again. “Well, Vera, before our satellite goes off twice more we must do this as the relays we use will be destroyed after that. No reason to wait though, we can just go now. Are you ready to change the course of history, my Dear?” She nodded in agreement, but now she realized something about his voice was different, too.

  * * *

  “This is President Caulfield.”

  “Hello, Sir, this is President Volkov.”

  “Yes, Sir, how are you doing?”

  “Truthfully, not so great, Comrade President. Our satellites tell us you’re fueling an ICBM out of Kansas for flight? Could this be true?”

  The American President let a purposeful pause occur, then he spoke tersely to the Russian President, “Come on, Mr. President, don’t play coy with me. We don’t have the luxury of time here. You know our backs are against the wall, but so are yours, dammit! So why is it that you don’t seem to have a greater sense of urgency, Sir? Could it be our birds are first? Even if this time my sources tell me you lost only one communications satellite, it won’t be long before it’s more.”

  “Yes, Comrade. It’s true, we are exposed, but what you’re about to do is madness!”

  “Madness we are willing to accept the check for, Mr. President!”

  The Russian president tried to ease it off a little as it was getting heated. He re-toned his voice and said, “Please call me, Miroslav, Sir, we should not start out a friendship on such formalities.”
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  “Miroslav, you’ll have to excuse my rudeness, but I hardly see what’s transpiring here as a friendship starter! Even looking at it through diplomatic eyes,” added President Caulfield. That caused a pause on their side.

  “Fair enough. We have a non-nuclear solution to your problem and we would like to help.”

  After a thoughtful pause, Lawrence said, “Now those are the type of words that make friendships, Miroslav. Feel free to call me Lawrence. Do you mind me asking you how this will be accomplished? We have a lot riding on this.”

  4 – Unmasked

  It was happening again—the anxiety. There were less than four hours left, but he feared he wouldn’t make it. Matt had to pull the plug soon, but when? He couldn’t let them push their buttons of destruction. It was all coming to a head and he had to keep his. This whole military/satellite thing was nothing more than a big “sleight of hand.” Man, there is going to be a high price to pay for taking one’s eye off the ball. And it’s up to me to stop them.

  He looked at Vera with a torn heart—he now knew she was carrying his baby. In this situation, it didn’t seem to matter though; the future of an entire nation trumped her and their unborn baby.

  How can I do this now? She said she couldn’t have babies. No matter though. I cannot allow them to do this. Matt thought of all the undertakings he went through to get things into place, especially his relationship with Mauricio. Who knew that his friend was such a connector?

  He recalled that fateful day when he needed some antibiotic cream for one of the dogs. The General Store’s parking lot was full, and even the double parking up front was taken, so Matt pulled around the corner. He was driving himself with his three-man detail because he was a much better driver than the rest of the group. Matt pulled the car up to double-park on the side street adjacent to the store just as a striking young woman was getting out of her car. He noticed her as she had similarities to his Vera.

  She wore a black and yellow skin-tight workout suit and she had obviously been working out as she had a sweat stain down the small of her back. She was so sexy that his trained detail was distracted beyond hope as she opened the back door of her sedan and retrieved something off the floorboard.

  Then it happened in a flash.

  A van came skidding up. The side door opened and two men jumped out and grabbed her. Well, at first they grabbed her. She was quick though, and made a deft move sliding out of the right one’s grasp while foot stomping him. As he cried out in pain, he got an elbow to the throat.

  Next she took on the guy to her left. She ball-punched him out of the gate; then she was free. Her next move was a kick square to his face. He fell back into her car and as she went to punch him, number one tripped her up and the fight started to turn wrong. With one leg wrapped up, she took a punch to the face . . . and Matt had seen enough.

  He flew out of his vehicle before anyone could stop him and he was on her two assailants before they knew what was happening. The first assailant was standing over her as he’d brought her to the ground. Matt knocked him flat with a single power punch to the temple. The second was already on the ground with her and Matt wasted no time to fight fair. He just delivered a series of head stomps until number two was unconscious, his walking boots more than adequate for the job.

  The driver had seen enough and peeled out, driving off with the side door open. Matt drew his Beretta and aimed, but just past his field of view was a corner full of kids playing. Damn Peltz and his training! The van turned the corner and was gone. The guy he punched was fighting off the daze, stumbling to his feet, at which point his head intersected with the butt of Matt’s Beretta, thus ending his efforts. Then Matt turned and saw his impressed Security detail, the one named Tito saying, “Glad you’re here protecting us, Boss.”

  Matt turned to the girl, who was composing herself by yelling Spanish epithets and kicking each of her attackers intermittently. She was periodically wiping blood from her mouth and every time she saw her blood, she renewed her fury. Matt was reluctant to just leave her alone, although he was getting the feeling she might have come back in that fight. So they waited and the crowd grew.

  Soon Mauricio came running around the corner yelling “Cecelia!” He ran right past Matt and grabbed the girl. She hurled a tirade of mixed Spanish and provincial slang that had Matt bewildered. In two years he’d become almost fluent, albeit his cohorts still had to resort to English when he was around if things needed to be clear, and in Spanish; he got lost when it was rapidly spoken.

  Even though he’d been getting used to it, this was verbal madness. There was a bombardment of words that had no meaning to him other than their obvious inflection. Mauricio calmed her down and asked one more question as he was pointing at the two.

  Suddenly she answered in a stoic way that seemed to sense the coming reaction. Mauricio pointed to them and repeated what she said the first time. She nodded yes, but this time the way he said it was chilling because Matt could hear a much more serious tone. Plus, the way his daughter answered his rage with a humble, “Si” was very telling as tears were running down her cheeks.

  All this gave Matt an indication of what was coming next. Within seconds both men were dead. Riddled with bullets from Mauricio’s Gold Cup 45 caliber pistol, each of their bodies lurched violently with every angry shot. Matt noted that Mauricio used two hands on the gun, had a proper shooting stance, and didn’t miss once. Although he kept firing after the clip was drained, Matt attributed that to just wanting to shoot them more than a lack of training.

  Matt and his men grabbed the emotionally charged pair, whisking them into Matt’s SUV and promptly got them the hell out of there. Once Mauricio and his daughter were in the vehicle, they both hugged Matt furiously. The girl was getting sweat all over his new shirt, not that he wasn’t sweating a good amount himself. He imagined his discomfort stemmed more from the fact that he knew his Vera would not like it at all, as she was never very keen on other women being around him.

  After that day, Matt discovered who Mauricio really was. The best word he could use was “connector.” Mauricio knew the right people, and with the life of his daughter in the “owed” column to Matt, Matt could now get anything he needed. From a hand-held Ham radio to the ingredients necessary to make Sarin gas—hell, even to get a note into CIA Headquarters, Mauricio Vega proved to be a good friend to have.

  Matt snapped back into the reality of the room he was currently in. The daydream worked a little, he had killed some time, but time was running out fast and daydreams wouldn’t help much longer. He was using every trick he could to strengthen his “Poker Face,” but the time was approaching and he needed to accept it.

  He took a mental inventory of his weapons. He had his five-inch belt knife concealed on the inside of his waistband. Long ago he got into the habit of wearing short sleeve green khakis shirts and would leave them un-tucked. He did this on purpose, knowing that he would have to conceal something sometime—and a tucked in shirt afforded him no opportunity.

  He also had the Walther PK38 taped to the small of his back, his Beretta being too big to put there. On the inside of his right leg, concealed by his khakis pants, was the radio, secured by an elastic band he’d fashioned.

  His right front pocket held the key to it all. With one push of his finger the remote would trigger the gas. The problem was, he was never able to determine if the vents he was gassing were also the vents for their air here in the mountain. He hadn’t been able to ascertain if the two were separate or not. So if I push the button, there’s a better than even chance that I’ll be ending myself as well, a sobering thought.

  He much preferred the version where he was outside when the event occurred. Regardless, that button was getting pushed—if it needed to be. He placed his hand in his pocket and stroked the remote control, all the while watching those two preparing to push their respective buttons. Both buttons will change the world, but which one is the one that the world truly needed more?

  Ma
tt thought about the absolute power that he held in his hand and shivered, as no man should have the power that either one of them now control. It was just too much of a burden and in the wrong hands, too much absolute control. Pablo was telling her what to expect once they pushed their buttons, when without warning, several of the console’s lights and alarms went off. Things suddenly looked to be heating up. Matt stared at them, but really his mind was on their controller and how to stop them from pushing their respective buttons.

  * * *

  Yuri was in the room adjacent to the one he once manned. Their sector had no secrets, and the rooms contained within were all of the same clearance. Once one worked here, one’s life was never the same again—mainly because one could never transfer out. Therefore, to reduce boredom and complacency the personnel were shifted once a year, but always within the four sections within his Red Division.

  The other logic in it was if someone went down, then any one of them could step into the vacated station. Every section of the underground mountain had its own color. Once one worked in Red, one was there until retirement or death.

  The pay was great, and he was sure Natalia was enjoying it very much, what with her Western spending lusts. Yuri was just as sure she looked good out there as he was also sure he was broke.

  He could hear the activity next door and was more than curious, as the activity was frantic—in a way that got his adrenaline pumping yet scared him to his core. His station was the frantic one immediately after the incident in Peru, but now the station next door was abuzz. That’s more action than this place had ever seen. Not good.

  The walls within were not soundproof, and Yuri could hear his drinking friend Dima taking orders and answering like he was in training during his first week. Yuri heard orders issued, then re-issued and confirmed. Finally, they got the green light to fire. He knew their Rodina II Satellite also had a secret dual role because that was his last station. That satellite had a single fire Vympel K-13 heat-seeking missile that could easily destroy an enemy satellite before it could raise any defenses it might have. Now it appeared they were cleared to fire it . . . at something.