Omega Series Box Set 2

by Blake Banner

  “What’s going on, Ahmed? You sounded worried on the phone.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then, “Aaron, have your people authorized the Mafia to invest directly in our company?”

  Another prolonged silence. “What? No! Of course not!”

  “I got a visit.”

  “What kind of visit?”

  “A man from New York. He said he represented interests in New York and New Jersey who wanted to invest twenty million dollars in our company. He suggested, quite strongly, that those interests were the Mafia.” He paused. Fenninger didn’t answer. Musa went on, “Now, it was my understanding that your people were going to manage the funds we received, and that none of it was going to be traceable either to the cartels or to the Mafia. So, why has this guy turned up unannounced, on my doorstep, making me an offer I can’t refuse?”

  “He threatened you?”

  “There was a heavy threat implicit at the end, just before he left.” There was an audible hesitation from Musa then.

  Fenninger said, “What? What is it?”

  “I’m pretty good at reading people, Aaron, and I noticed two things about this man. One, he was putting on an act for me. Maybe that’s something the Mafioso do, I don’t know. I have no experience of dealing with Mafiosos. The other thing, which leads me to believe he was what he said he was, he was dangerous. That man was a killer. You could see it in his eyes.”

  “Twenty million bucks, huh?”

  “And more if the partnership was successful.”

  You could almost hear Fenninger narrowing his eyes. “Define successful? What were his terms?”

  “Yeah, that’s where it became interesting. He knew what we were about.”

  “He knew? How?”

  “I don’t know how he knew! He just knew!”

  “Didn’t you ask him?”

  “Of course not, Aaron! I wasn’t going to show him he’d fazed me! I wanted him off his guard. I told him I needed to consult with my partners. I needed to back up, take some time out and discuss this with you.”

  “OK, point taken. How much did he know?”

  “In general terms he knew that we had a program in place to manipulate public opinion and create role models to shape behavior and thinking. He knew we were conducting research in that field and he wanted to invest in that research.”

  “Holy shit…”

  “So you ask me to define success, and I’m not sure I know how to. He’s not looking for a return on his money, he is seeking to do what you are seeking to do, standardize and manipulate public thinking and behavior. He was talking about ensuring the election of presidents, making legislation popular…”

  Fenninger said again, “Holy shit, holy shit…”

  “Who is this guy? How does he know about us?”

  “Get out. I need to talk to some people. Do nothing. I’ll be in touch in a while and I’ll tell you how to proceed. What have you arranged with him?”

  “I told him we’d be in touch by tomorrow. That was when he threatened me. He thought I was giving him the old ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you’ routine.”

  “OK, go back to the office. I’ll be in touch before the end of the day and tell you what to do.”

  Musa hesitated again. “Aaron, there is a rather worrying possibility.”

  “What?”

  “That he is FMW. You saw what they did to UBC in New York.”

  There was another protracted silence, then Fenninger’s voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s a possibility. I’ll be in touch, Ahmed.”

  I heard the door close. There was some movement, the chink of ice and the splash and gurgle of a drink being poured. A moment and then the clunk of heavy crystal on wood. Then Fenninger’s voice again.

  “Beta, this is Epsilon. We have a problem. It could be a big problem. Somebody from New York just tried to buy in to Intelligent Imaging Consultants.” A few seconds of silence, then, “I have no idea who, that’s why I’m calling you on the secure line. He knew, at least in general terms, what the company did. And he wanted to invest in that and take a controlling share. He implied he was from the Mob. I thought you had those guys under control.”

  He was quiet for a long while. Then he said, “You’re certain he’s not Mob? Ahmed said he was pretty sure he was.”

  Another silence. “Well if he’s not Mob, who the hell is he? Is he FMW? We need to find out and we need to find out fast. We are under attack, William, and we do not know who the hell from... No, I will not calm down! We have an unknown actor with twenty million bucks to spare, claiming there is plenty more where that came from, and he knows about the IIC program. I don’t think I should calm down, and frankly I would like to see you a little more excited.”

  He listened for a couple of minutes, then said, “I’m going to give Ahmed the go ahead to arrange a meeting with this guy. I have not decided yet whether to be present. And listen, William, there’s something else. There have been a couple of paparazzi parked outside my house for the last day or so… I need a drink, I’m going to put you on speaker.”

  Beta, William, had a soft, quiet drawl. “Epsilon, stop using my name. If you panic, you stop thinking and then you are no use to yourself, or to anybody else. I am going to talk to Pro Levy, get him to put out feelers in Jersey and in New York. I’ll tell him to keep it quiet. Maybe this is a small, independent operation and they don’t know what they’re getting into. Twenty million dollars isn’t exactly big money. After that he’ll talk to the Capos, ask them if they’ve decided to make an approach without our approval. If both those inquiries come back negative, then we’ll know we have something a little deeper going on.”

  Fenninger sounded like William’s unflappable tones were getting on his nerves. He sighed. “OK, that’s fine, but just speculate with me for a moment, will you? Let’s assume that your inquiries out east draw a blank. Who the hell has this kind of information about us?”

  “You know the answer to that as well as I do, Epsilon. It could be a play by Gibbons. I think MFW are nothing more than a bunch of rednecks with too much fertilizer on their hands. But if they are in bed with Gibbons they maybe it’s them. But the only way we are going to find that out is for you to arrange a meeting with this character. And you need to be present, as Aaron Fenninger, and you need to be very interested in what he has to offer. Draw him out. We need to know who sent him and what they are after.”

  Fenninger sighed. “Yes, OK.”

  There was another moment of silence. I heard the ice in Fenninger’s glass rattle and the soft clunk as he set it down on the desk again. I half expected the call to end at that point, but then Beta started speaking.

  “There is something else. I met with Alpha last night.”

  “Oh?”

  “We are hampered by the loss of Gamma.”

  Fenninger grunted. “We have lost two in a very short time.”

  “I know, but we must keep going as best we can until a suitable candidate appears. We discussed the melt.”

  Fenninger grunted. “I know we are set for a record this year. I have been talking to the NSIDC, it is set to be the biggest melt on record, greater even than 2012.”

  Beta sighed. “Exactly, and here’s the thing. The immediate effect is that we are going to have a cold, wet summer and the president will capitalize on that to bolster his position on climate change…”

  “Good.”

  “However, the knock on is that early next year we will have severe drought in the Mediterranean, in East Africa, the Middle East, China and the prairie states. The people in Climate are saying it could be the beginning of the Event.”

  “Holy shit… That soon…”

  “You see where I am going with this, Epsilon?”

  “I think so…”

  “Don’t think, be sure. We’ll be going to war on the back of that drought. The Middle East will go to pieces, their regimes will crumble. It’s what we’ve been waiting for. This is where Syria pays off. We are going to march in:
Syria, Saudi and Iran. The EU are going to kick. So are Russia and China. This will be the biggest test since World War Two. We need to control public thinking and behavior, Epsilon. Are you hearing me?”

  “Yes, I hear you.”

  “Get your house in order. Find out who this guy is, and deal with him. We do not want another UN on our hands.”

  “I understand, Beta. I’ll deal with it.”

  “And, Epsilon?”

  “What?”

  “Grow a pair, will you? You’re like a fucking girl when you panic.”

  I smiled. There was silence. Then the rattle of ice and the splash of liquid again, and after a moment the shattering of Waterford crystal. More silence followed by the muttering of voices and somebody sweeping up the tumbler he had smashed. The door closed and the bug in Ahmed’s office was activated.

  “Hi, Aaron! that was quick. I just got in. Have you got some news for me?”

  When he spoke there was no trace of the petulant tantrum that had made him smash his glass thirty seconds earlier. He was radiant with Californian sunshine and positive vibes.

  “Yeah, listen, arrange the meeting. Talk to the others…”

  “They’re due in a few minutes.”

  “Good, make them understand, however tempting his offer may be, we do not want this guy onboard, OK? We are going to have to manage a drought and a war early next year…”

  “Shit! Really?”

  “That does not leave your office, OK? We’ll advise you on where to invest to capitalize. Keep your mouth shut and you could become very, very rich indeed. But you do not want to talk about this to anyone outside IIC.”

  “We understand that, Aaron.”

  “So my point is, Ahmed, we need you guys to manage the crisis when it comes, and we cannot have outside investors taking control.”

  “Sure, that’s not a problem. I’ll talk to the guys. Where is the drought going to be?”

  Aaron gave a small laugh. “Uh…parallel forty, north, right around the globe.”

  “Jesus…”

  “Yeah, East Africa, Middle East… You know, weather is a chaos model. It’s hard to be precise.”

  “And the war?”

  “Basically, the Middle East is going to hell.”

  “I thought it was already there, Aaron.”

  “Well, now you know. It isn’t. It’s just on the threshold.”

  Ahmed was silent for a moment, then I heard the smile in his voice. “Don’t you forget to give me those pointers. We are going to clean up!”

  Fenninger snorted again. “Play your cards right, Ahmed, and there might be all kinds of opportunities opening up for a man with no conscience.”

  “Hey, Aaron, I am that man!”

  They both laughed and hung up.

  After that, I sat through Musa’s meeting with his partners. It was pretty much a reiteration of what I had already heard. The only thing that was new, and that interested me, was that Intelligent Imaging Consultants was fully engaged with Omega and Omega’s objectives.

  From the comments they made, I gathered they did not know that Omega existed as an organization in its own right, and they were not aware of Omega’s long term plans. Their belief was that Aaron represented an anonymous department within the federal government, but with that caveat, they were on board with their plans and were not squeamish about using famine to justify war, just so long as they got the insider information to allow them to buy the right shares at the right time.

  I closed the laptop, pulled a Camel from my pack and sat and smoked for a while, staring out at the broad, bright boulevard, considering my options. After a while I began to smile.

  Six

  The call came when I was on my way to Olympic Boulevard to see Ted Wallace late that afternoon. It was Ahmed. I took a moment to think of Joe Pesci and tried to talk like him.

  “Ahmed, talk to me. Whatcha got for me? Make me a happy man.”

  “Mr. Franklin, I can tell you that my partners were very interested in your proposition and we would very much like to talk to you in more depth and, um, put some flesh on the bones, so to speak.”

  “Put some flesh on the bones, huh? What are we making, a horror movie?” He tried to laugh but failed and I kept on talking. “So when do you wanna meet? I gotta tell you, Ahmed, I know here in Cali you like to take things easy, but I’m not a big fan of fuckin’ around wasting my fucking time, you know what I’m sayin’?”

  “Well, what about tomorrow afternoon…?”

  “See? That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about, mañana, mañana. We’re talking an initial investment of twenty million bucks with more to come if we’re all happy. But you gotta have your fuckin’ martinis, you gotta go down to Santa fuckin’ Monica and swim naked in the fuckin’ evening sunshine an’ screw a few whores, and then you gotta take your fuckin’ time over croissants and cappuccini in the morning before you can get your fuckin’ ass in gear to discuss business. And forgive me if I’m blunt, but let me ask you this, Ahmed, what the fuck is gonna happen between now and tomorrow that you can’t fuckin’ talk business to me tonight?”

  “Well, Mr. Franklin, it has gone five o’clock…

  “I have one thing to say to you, Ahmed: One of my most influential and affluent associates has flown in from Detroit and is waiting for me at the airport, because I assured him you would be keen to see proof of our intention to do business. He has come all the way here, for you. And he is going to be very disappointed at your lack of reciprocal enthusiasm. Two: I have done some of my own most lucrative business in the very small hours of the morning. And three, is there any reason why we cannot transact business in your office tonight?”

  “Well, it’s…”

  “I’m gonna tell you what I am going to do for you, because I do not want you and my principals to get off on a bad foot. Let me tell you that a bad foot is not a good thing to get off on. I don’t want to turn up at the airport and say, ‘Hey Jackie,’ we call him Jackie the Kid, he likes that. ‘Hey, Jackie, this uh, Ahmed, he didn’t mean no disrespect, but he had to go swimming with some whores in Santa Monica, or some shit. He’ll see you tomorrow…’ I don’t wanna do that. So I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do for you. You and me, we gonna meet tonight, with Jackie, at your office. We will discuss some preliminaries over a drink. Then maybe we go party, get some girls, snort some coke, know what I’m sayin’? We’ll have a good time. That’s how he likes to do things. You will find him a very generous man. And as a thank you, maybe we can sort out a personal bonus for you. I’ll call you from the airport. Don’t disappoint me, Ahmed. OK?”

  “No, listen, Mr…

  “Don’t disappoint me, Ahmed.”

  I hung up. He didn’t call back.

  The sun was low, and the light bronzed, by the time I pulled into the parking lot opposite Archer’s Detective Agency, and left the truck among the lengthening shadows. I rode the old elevator to the fifth floor and found Ted alone. His secretary had gone home for the night and he was sitting with his feet on the desk smoking and drinking whiskey, like a real PI. He looked tired. I closed the door and accepted his invitation to sit and have a drink. I poured a shot and lit up a Camel.

  “I’m hoping you’re going to tell me you have no news.”

  “Not a thing.” He shrugged. “It might help if I knew what you were looking for, apart from whether he drives with his window open. It sure as hell isn’t your sister.”

  I smiled. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  He narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not joking?”

  I ignored the question. “We’re done with the surveillance. You can call your associate off. Consider the remainder of the fee a bonus.”

  He frowned at his drink. “I told you I was a cop for a long time.”

  “You did.”

  “My instinct is telling me that there is something very wrong about this job.”

  I nodded. “Your instinct is r
ight. The reason I’m calling off the surveillance is because you and your associate are at risk if you continue.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, then picked up the phone and made a call. When the call was answered he said, “We’re done. Get out of there. Make sure you’re not followed.” He hung up, then screwed up his face at me. “We are at risk, from Aaron Fenninger? That’s like being at risk from Gene Roddenberry, or George Lucas. It’s ridiculous. What’s this all about…” He waved a hand at me. “Mr. Smith? I don’t even know your name.”

  I sighed. “What these things are always about, Ted: power. But believe me, you are better off not knowing the details.”

  He gave a small laugh. “I think I’ll convince myself you were some kook on one of those reality games, like that movie, with Michael Douglas…”

  “The Game.”

  “That’s the one.”

  I smiled. “Something like that. You got photos, film, papers, reports…?”

  “Yeah. I thought we had a few more days…”

  “It’s fine. I don’t need a report. I just need whatever you’ve got, and it’s best if you don’t keep any records.”

  A look of understanding dawned on his face. “You’re government? CIA…?”

  “Would it make a difference?”

  He sighed. “Not really.

  “Will an hour be long enough?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll go and grab something to eat. I’ll see you here at eight?”

  He nodded. “OK, no problem.”

  I walked two blocks to Il Mare, an Italian restaurant on Hope Street, and had a steak and a beer while turning over in my mind how I wanted everything to play out. The timing could be tricky, but with a little luck and a cool head, I might just pull it off. The thing to do in any complex operation is to think through all the things that can go wrong, and have a backup plan for each one of them. My problem was, right then, that there were so many things that could go wrong, for so many reasons, all I could do was improvise and play my own part to the best of my abilities.