by Gary Starta
Seacrest had had enough. “Run from who? Hide from what? Look, Mr. Montgomery, we’ve been through enough. We’ve been watched, drugged and sent down nothing but blind allies. One of our agents is in the hospital, so badly beaten during a kidnapping that we have no idea when she’ll recover. Our own defense department is giving us the runaround, and we’re not sure we can even trust our own boss. I am one small step away from committing a murder of my own, so I think you’d better tell us everything you know right now or I swear to God I’ll take this frying pan and smack it out of you!”
Chapter Thirty
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, Agent. Now kindly put down the iron maiden.”
Jill limped back into the kitchen to put the frying pan back on the stove. Turning back to face Montgomery, she folded her arms to let him know that he was still on thin ice. “Tell me…how exactly does a man of science die, come back to life, find himself a job as a museum curator and end up involved in a murder fest?”
“Um, well, you see…” Montgomery’s eyes darted in all directions as if he were hoping to find an answer floating around in the air.
“I’m waiting.”
He smiled, then, revealing laugh lines around his eyes and a dimple on his left cheek. “It’s a long story. May I please sit down?”
Silently, she pointed to the chair she’d just dragged in from the kitchen.
“Agent Seacrest,” he began, “You don’t have the time to hear it. Once they find out your husband failed the test, you’ll both be back on the hit list. We have to get out of here as soon as you can get your husband up and ready.”
“Failed what test? And who are the hell are ‘they’?”
He exhaled audibly and looked at his watch. “You’re going to make me tell you the whole story right now, aren’t you?”
She stood, waiting.
“All right, if it’ll light a fire under you both. Just let me get through it quickly, and don’t interrupt me. We don’t have much time. First off, my real name is Montgomery, not Moreland. Most people call me Monty.
“I’ve known who they are for years now – as an entity, I mean – because I worked with them at Meese. They began as a top-secret think tank created through a joint effort of the highest military, intelligence, and private sectors of the country, to review and approve or deny funding – unlimited funding – of the most promising scientific research meant to push the entire world forward. This group was so secret and had such tremendous freedom of money and power that their existence and individual identities were virtually unknown.
“For purposes of plausible deniability and because the presidency is a short-term position, even the White House was never told about it. Their decisions were absolute and irrevocable. They had to be, because we needed a group like theirs to quietly push civilization ahead without any constraints. They operated outside the law and outside of the democratic process. Without them, we could never have entered the space or information ages in the short time it’s taken us to get there. Every significant discovery in science, medicine, technology, aerospace, agriculture, and energy, among many others over the past sixty-odd years was possible only because they chose the projects that got the green light.
“As time went on, the group members changed here and there, but their mission and resources never did. Without oversight, they discovered they had the power of God. They could shape the future any way they wanted without any responsibility to anyone or anything. Gradually their mission changed from helping the world to controlling it. The story is an old one.
“There was one government organization that had staying power, and it was the one that originally developed this think tank. They were the only ones who could arrange for the group’s future funding and protection. Only the very highest officials knew about them, and they didn’t put up much of a fight when the group threatened them with exposure. That knowledge would have rocked the country right off its foundation. Instead, they became the group’s new support system and protector. As part of the deal, all records of the original group’s name and each member’s identity was destroyed.”
Carter chimed in. “Is it Meese you’re talking about? And how do you know all this?”
“No. The group was planted there over time and assumed a new name and mission as a cover for their real activities. Essentially, they decided to hide in plain sight, and it worked like a charm. Meese has no idea it’s a front for them. All they know is that this project review board has always been there.
“I found out who their protector was much later on. My protégé was developing a drug that could revolutionize the art of war. When the project was turned down, I began to smell a rat, but I never told her that. I guess I should have. Later, she killed herself. That was no secret at Meese. After that we began to butt heads. I invented nutty ideas that could never work in a million years and asked my scientists to present them for me.” Monty stopped here, smiling with the memory.
Seacrest wanted the rest of the story. “Then what, Monty?”
He cleared his throat and continued. “Up until the day my wife was murdered, a few years ago, I had absolutely no idea that they were anything other than what they seemed to be. After my wife’s death, though, I received an anonymous letter telling me it was done as a warning to me and strongly suggested I drop out of sight. Permanently.
“I had no idea what I had done or to whom I did it, but I ran away, sent Meese a letter of resignation and then faked my own death. I’ve been running and hiding ever since.”
Monty sighed and went on. “For years I tried to figure out what caused this shit storm. After Arleen passed away, I heard, through one or two trusted sources, that the drug had disappeared from the Meese lab, but I was the only one who remembered what that drug could do. No one in upper management seemed to care that the only sample left was missing.”
Carter wanted a clear statement from Monty. “Are you convinced this secret think tank was responsible for the theft of the drug?”
“Yes. By coincidence, soon after the drug went missing, the group was disbanded so Meese could team up directly with the military to redefine their agreements and partnerships.
“When the old museum curator was murdered, I was offered his position, but I was afraid to accept anything other than a temporary assignment. You and Agent Deeprose were the local F.B.I. investigators on the scene, and that was how I heard about the Collective, as you call them, and about the murders being committed by their members. I still keep my ear to the ground. But when the video of one of their meetings went viral, I recognized Senator Pressman’s face.”
Seacrest wore a sour face as if she wasn’t a hundred percent convinced, yet. “Then why didn’t you say anything about it to Carter when you had the chance?”
“He would have thought I was the killer, and I still had no way to prove I wasn’t. I had knowledge, motive, and opportunity. Open and shut case. You have to understand, Agent, that all I had were some pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit together.
“I racked my brains trying to remember anything I could about the group and the drug. All I knew was that they turned down Kate’s project, I pissed them off mightily after her death, and the drug disappeared at the same time they did. When the drug resurfaced, I had no idea whether or not they were the ones who did it. And how was I going to prove it? Who’d believe a crazy story like that?”
Seacrest tapped her foot. “Why are you convinced they’re the ones who stole it?”
“They turned down that project for bullshit reasons, so there must have been another very good reason behind their decision, after all. Slowly, the pieces came together. They must have thought I knew of their plan to steal it and use it for another purpose. Or maybe I just had the misfortune of knowing the drug ever existed. Wrong job, wrong place, wrong time kind of thing, you know?”
Jill paced around the bedroom and then came to a short stop. “Wait a minute. Why weren’t you eliminated at the time, then, instead of merely
threatened, and why haven’t they ever been able to find you?”
“They targeted my wife, first, as a warning to me, and probably planned on getting me later on when things cooled down a bit. In fact, sometimes I wonder if Katherine really committed suicide. We were all liabilities. The reason they haven’t caught me yet is because I’m smarter than they are - always one step ahead.”
Carter put all the big questions to Monty now, no longer holding back. “What was the original name of this secret group who calls themselves the Collective? Do you know who’s protecting and helping them? Would you remember their faces if you saw them again, I mean, besides Senator Pressman? And how is he tied to them?”
“When I recognized Pressman’s face, I realized he must have dropped out of sight and changed his name and career as well. Neither of us were supposed to live to be able to identify the rest. I never knew their real names, but he did, because he’d been one of them. The thing is, he was the genuine article. Pressman had no idea what their real agenda was. He wanted to approve funding for Dr. Blake’s research because he’d been a P.O.W. in Vietnam. He saw first-hand how a drug like that might have brought things to a quicker, more decisive end and prevent a ton of suicides, afterward.
“I’m pretty sure Pressman had no idea why the others wanted the project squashed, but as it turned out, he had a price. They offered him a career as a senator in his home state if he agreed to be the lone dissenter on Kate’s project. The only reason the leader of the Collective appeared on a movie screen was to use Pressman’s likeness and voice to set him up. The poor bastard almost had a heart attack when I walked into his office. He thought I was dead. We talked for a long time that day. He told me just about everything he knows. He owes his career to them, and he wants to live to enjoy it. Pressman will never roll. That’s definite. If he spills what he knows, he’s a dead man.”
Seacrest asked the question on both her and Carter’s mind. “Monty, who are they? What’s the real name of the think tank?”
“There have been rumors, for well over sixty years, of the existence of a group of all-powerful men who worked behind the scenes shaping the future of the modern world. I always thought that was just a conspiracy theory. Now I believe they’ve always been here, right under our nose. The men we’re after are referred to as the JASONS.”
Seacrest threw her gaze over to Carter. He was falling back to sleep, so she lowered her voice. “You still haven’t told us who’s protecting them, Monty. Tell me everything you can about why the JASONS are using the drug on their members and what exactly this drug is. I also want to know why attendees are being programmed to kill. What’s their real agenda, Monty, and who the hell is Galatea?”
“Agent Seacrest, I think I’ve told you enough to impress upon you the fact that we have to get the hell out of here. Can we finish this later?”
“Mr. Montgomery, the more I hear, the crazier the story sounds. We’re not going anywhere until I know the rest of it. When you said Carter failed the test last night, what exactly did you mean?”
Montgomery closed his eyes and held up his hands in surrender. “All right. All right. I’ll tell you the rest of it. Just promise me you’ll get him dressed and ready to go as soon as I’m done talking. And if you don’t want us all killed, for God’s sake, take out your gun, and keep it aimed at the door.”
When Seacrest returned with her gun, he continued. “Step one. The test began by forcing the drug on him. The rest of the test subjects were lured to those meetings and dosed without their knowledge. I suspect this Silver Man couldn’t resist telling Carter their plan. They wouldn’t care if he knows now anyway, because he won’t remember a word of it, later. No one would believe him even if he did. And he’ll have to be put down, anyway, as well as you and myself.
“Step two. When the drug kicks in, he begins to hallucinate and becomes aggressive and paranoid. That’s when they program his mind to kill. They repeat this mantra over and over again until he knows it by heart and believes every last word they shove down his throat. He’s given a name, address and a detailed plan to commit a murder so they can see how the drug works on him.”
“Go on…”
“They study them to see who will follow the orders, who will resist them, and who will go rogue and kill someone of their own choosing while they’re hallucinating. In your husband’s case, they decided to use him as a test subject and get rid of him at the same time. They overdosed him and sent him here to kill you, if you didn’t kill him first in self-defense. If he succeeded, he’d either kill himself when he found out what he’d done or be sentenced to life in a federal prison, if not executed, for murdering an F.B.I. agent who also happened to be his wife. In the event he failed to kill either you or himself, well, you’re just two more loose ends to get rid of. No big deal.”
Seacrest was reaching the end of her rope, her face was turning red. “Why would they try to kill us when Carter won’t remember anything from last night and if we have no way of finding out who they are and who’s protecting them?”
“Because Carter has the Burn List, which leads straight back to David Florio’s murder, Meese’s computers, the development of the drug we named Hyzopran, and the JASONS’ theft of it. Dalton Wells’ name must also be on that list. The Burn List can put them in jail for a thousand years apiece and permanently screw up their plan to become richer than God and twice as powerful.”
Seacrest kicked a table leg to punctuate her frustration. “Carter has a…a what? A Burn List? Why was Florio killed for having it? Why is Wells’ name on the list, and what other names are on it?”
“Agent Carter found the Burn List on David Florio’s hard drive, and I’m assuming Wells’ name is there. Wells’ killer was in possession of the drug when he was arrested, and your tests showed that he must have ingested it no longer than 48 hours prior to the murder and his arrest. He’d been at a meeting of the Collective during that time, Agent Seacrest, which you may or may not already know. Agent Carter knows everything now, I’m sure of it – all except for who’s protecting them. That forced their hand, Jill. They have to eliminate you both and Agent Deeprose, too.”
“Do you know if there’s a step three, Monty? I mean, why risk testing an unknown hallucinogen on an unsuspecting public to assassinate a list of people unless there was a larger purpose? Couldn’t they just arrange for professional hits? Who’s protecting them? Who’s Galatea?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. That would have made everything so much easier, wouldn’t it?”
“Do you know who else is on the list?”
“No. I’ve never seen it. Pressman knows, though, and now your husband does. He’s got it hidden away somewhere. If we could get our hands on a copy, it might tell us a lot more about why those particular names are on it.”
Seacrest woke Carter to ask him if he remembered discovering something called a Burn List, where it might be, and whose names were on it. He told her there was a copy in the computer desk drawer but no longer remembered why those names were there. She rummaged through it until she found the list and then handed it to Monty.
“Take a look. Does it mean anything at all to you?”
He read the list slowly. Seacrest and Carter anxiously watched him puzzle it out. Those not already assassinated were now being protected, but there would be no end to this if they couldn’t see the whole picture. All it would take is a new list that would achieve the same goal. Both agents were afraid to compromise the operation by sharing information with anyone at the Bureau, including Fischetti.
It only took him five minutes to figure it out. Monty’s head flew up; he looked like he’d seen a ghost. “I know what this is! It’s a list of people in key positions of economics, government, industry, technology, the arts, natural resources and on and on. They’re all long-termers too - people who have a real impact in all those areas of work. Some seem trivial and low-level, but according to this list, they’re all tied to an event, entity, or someone incredibly influentia
l. They’ve got to be assets the Silver Man wants taken out after he’s done with them. Knowledge is power. From the looks of some of these other names it seems there are those presenting viewpoints and laws and regulations that are in his way. My theory, right or wrong, is once they’re gone, he’ll make sure that every last replacement is one of his own people and that there’ll be list after list after list of assassinations and replacements until they have control of everything, everywhere. But I’m with you; why used drugged amateurs to do it if it’s a long-term plan?
“The people on this list are from all over the world, but the majority are from here. There’s a Supreme Court justice, a civil service employee, titans of industry, a protest singer, philosopher, ballet dancer of all things, a scientist at area 51, etc., and one museum curator in charge of priceless European art, Agents.”
Seacrest believed him now; there was no way not to. “So where do we go from here, Monty? Do you have a plan?”
“The plan right now is to get out of here! Every minute we waste is another nail in my coffin and yours.”
Carter and Seacrest had been in tough spots before and weren’t going to be rushed out the door without a little more information. Carter, as usual, boiled it all down to one simple question, and he wanted an answer before trusting Monty completely. “You could have told us all this without putting yourself or us in any danger, Monty. Why are you really here?”
“You know those kids aren’t the real culprits, but you’re being pressured to get their convictions without too much nosing around. Even I could see that much from what I read online and saw on T.V. Don’t you see? You’re being stonewalled. Sabotaged. The people responsible for that must be the ones protecting the JASONS. Now, you’ve got them after you, too. That’s the reason I’m here. You need me because none of them would recognize me now. I can pick up where you left off.”
