A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10)

by Gerald Kubicki

  “We have full dossiers on all of them,” she quickly replied. “But so far, we haven’t found anything suspicious or a link which ties anyone to Schultz or the Effort,” Marlene said with disappointment.

  “How many people are we talking about?” Haleigh wondered. “I mean how many people could the President choose from?”

  “There are eleven men to choose from. Only the President can make the choice,” Marlene read from her notes. “But usually the ranking officer from each branch of the military is the top candidates. There are four of them.”

  “One of them is probably a ‘sleeper’,” Banyon announced.

  “What’s a sleeper?” Chase asked.

  “That’s someone who is squeaky clean but has hidden ties to a cause. They only become active when they are needed. The communists and terrorist groups employ sleepers. We need to look at the earlier lives of those four men. They would have been recruited when they were young.”

  “Almost all of them come from military families and backgrounds,” Marlene quickly said. “There is only one who grew up outside the military. But he is a favorite of the President,” she added.

  “Can you tell us about him?” Banyon asked.

  “Well, okay,” she started as she looked inside a folder. “I’ll be damned,” she suddenly exploded.

  “What?” Loni squealed.

  “This one was born in Vernon Hills, Illinois.”

  “He could have had contact with Bernard Schultz growing up,” Loni exclaimed. “He could be the sleeper.”

  “Anything else?” Banyon pressed her knowing that there was more.

  “It says here his mother never reported any income to the IRS, other than some rental income. The income tax records show she filed as single, as well. When she died he inherited her house in Vernon Hills. It was twenty years ago and he had to pay some huge back taxes on the property.” Marlene looked up into the screen and removed her reading glasses. She then added a thought. “He was only a Captain in the navy then. He was not paid enough to afford the taxes. Where did the money come from?”

  “And now he is a Vice Admiral,” Banyon said.

  “Let me get this straight, he went from a Captain to a Vice Admiral in less than twenty years, is that correct? Isn’t that incredibly fast?” Steve asked suspiciously. “Or could he have had some help along the way?”

  “It sounds like he might have been given some outside help to pay the back taxes and also in getting promoted so quickly,” Banyon reasoned. “That would be typical of a sleeper agent.”

  “Uh oh,” Marlene suddenly let out, as she continued to read the dossier. “He is not only the Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, but he is also the Commandant of USNORTHCOM. He is the logical military commander to be picked to implement martial law nationally,” she said with horrifying amazement.

  “He’s our guy,” Loni roared. “What’s his name?”

  “His name is Vice Admiral Michael Meyers,” a stunned Marlene replied. “He is next in line to become the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

  “Let’s pick him up and sweat him,” Loni said as she ground her fists together.

  “Wait, we need more proof than this before I call the President,” Marlene told them. “The evidence is too circumstantial.”

  “Marlene can you have someone check the security cameras at the Pentagon and track the movements of Vice Admiral Meyers for a couple of hours before people started dying there?” Banyon quickly asked.

  “The DoD doesn’t share anything with us, but let me make a call. I’ll be right back,” Marlene got up from the screen.

  ***

  A few minutes later, the group at Dewey & Beatem was arguing about the impact of martial law.

  “Under martial law,” Bart said like the lawyer that he was, “personal rights are pushed aside. The military dictator, usually called a Military Governor, can suspend Habeas Corpus and replace any civilian government official or even disband the local officials. Many law makers believe Section 1031 of The National Authorization Act of Fiscal Year 2012 legalizes martial law in the United States given the right circumstances.”

  “Well, Bart, do you think the Effort had anything to do with getting that law ratified?” Loni asked.

  “I could only speculate,” Bart responded. Suddenly they saw movement on the flat screen. A young man sat in Marlene’s chair. He appeared to be nervous and excited at the same time.

  “The Director is still on the phone but wants you to know we have a break in the case,” the young man spoke very quickly. Without waiting for any comments he forged ahead. “Postal inspectors have found thirty letters so far which fit the description of credit cards. They all were addressed to people with Hispanic surnames. Hope this helps, I need to get back.” The man vanished from view.

  “I would have thought they would go after Blacks first,” Haleigh said to no one in particular.

  “Do you have any idea how many Hispanic families there are in Chicago?” Chase asked Banyon, who lived there.

  “Somewhere between two and three million Hispanics live there. Many are illegal,” Bart responded.

  “The spray containers will be used to go after the illegal Hispanics as most illegals don’t have an actual address,” Banyon said. “This makes sense now. Blacks and Hispanics often live in the same neighborhood. Chicago has the highest murder rate in the country. More Blacks have guns there than Hispanics. Once news of a plague spreads, the Blacks will start shooting any Hispanics they find.”

  “This is horrible,” Loni groaned.

  “Not if we can confiscate most of the credit card letters and destroy them,” Banyon replied.

  “But we will still have to deal with about a hundred sprayers too,” Haleigh lamented.

  “So, we just have to figure out where most of illegals will congregate tomorrow morning,” Chase reasoned.

  “Well,” Bart started by counting off on his fingers. “They have to eat, they like music, they like liquor, and I’m not sure about sports.”

  “So, we should cover all the Mexican restaurants in Chicago? That would be impossible,” Loni lamented.

  “We’re looking at this in the wrong way,” Banyon announced as he scratched his head in thought. Everyone turned towards him.

  “What do you think then?” Haleigh baited him.

  “I think this all has to do with what the illegals do during the early day,” Banyon offered. “If the Effort people went after the restaurants and began killing people, the establishments would quickly close down and become ineffective as a killing zone. Besides, many won’t even be open until the afternoon, well after the chaos has already started. It has to do with what they do for a living. I’m sure of that.”

  “You may be right Colt,” Bart agreed. “Most illegals are in the service business,” Bart told everyone. “They are either domestic help, work in a restaurant, or do gardening work. That way, they can get paid daily off the books and avoid any taxes.”

  “Got it,” Banyon yelled out and suddenly stood up.

  “You’ve figured out were they will be?” Haleigh said sarcastically.

  “Have any of you ever gone past a home improvement store early in the morning?” Banyon said with a smile.

  “So?” Loni asked as she flipped her hands to make Banyon hurry up.

  “There are usually dozens of Hispanic men standing around near the front entrance looking for a day job. When people buy plants they sometimes hire them to put the plants in the ground. They are almost always illegals.”

  “That’s it,” Bart agreed and smacked the table. “The Effort would get the most bang for their buck by going after those people. They will be done and gone before the mail is delivered. Those illegals will be the first to die.”

  “But won’t their own people die once they spray the air?” Loni said with concern. “What if there is a wind shift or something?”

  “I don’t think the sprayers will know they could die. I’m sure the Effort will consi
der them as collateral damage. They have a long history of sacrificing their members,” Banyon responded.

  “How many home center retailers are there in Chicago?” Loni asked.

  “There are thousands. Too many for us to cover,” Marlene said as she sat back down in front of the screen.

  “Then we need to use local law enforcement,” Bart argued. “They will need to chase the illegals away and stake out the outlets. When a person shows up with a spray canister or a suspicious piece of paper, they can nab them.”

  “Remember, these guys will have a very deadly weapon which they could unleash at any moment,” Marlene reminded him.

  “Then the officers should be allowed to shoot to kill,” Loni said with a huff.

  “And just how is that any different from having a military dictator decide who lives and dies,” Marlene spat back. “There has to be a better way.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  V

  ice Admiral Michael Meyers hung up the secure phone in his command post. He was in the middle of the bunker which was the control center for USNORTHCOM. He had an evil grin on his ruddy face. He had put the caller on speaker phone so all of his men and women could hear. They were all committed now, no turning back. The plan is going smoothly, he thought. The command center was very high tech with every conceivable gadget and communications system available to the United States military. The bunker was built to protect the military leaders if there was a war and could withstand a major assault.

  He had just finished talking to the President of the United States. He had been instructed to send in Army troops to quell the growing chaos in Washington D.C. The President could have chosen to send in the National Guard, but it wouldn’t have mattered, Vice Admiral Meyers now controlled them as well. From the bunker the Vice Admiral could control the vast military network based anywhere in North America, including Canada. He could aim and fire any weapons as well.

  The President told Vice Admiral Meyers there was a growing crisis and he should prepare for extended duties. He said martial law might have to be declared. The Vice Admiral said he understood and suggested the Commander in Chief send out a communique ordering all military personnel to follow the Vice Admiral’s orders completely. The President agreed. Vice Admiral Meyers then expressed great concern over the safety of America’s top leaders. The President also agreed. He told the Vice Admiral he should secure his bunker and let no one in, just as the President had done. Everyone in the room heard the suggestion. He then hung up after thanking the Vice Admiral for his loyalty and devotion to America. The President had told him that he had faith in his leadership.

  Damn right, Vice Admiral Meyers thought. I am a good leader and loyal to America, but not as the country exists today. Soon I will be granted the power of a dictatorship and I’ll have the talisman to help me take over the country. Nothing can stop me. He stood up and addressed his troops.

  “Well, you all heard the President, it seems we have been charged with saving America,” he quipped confidently to the subordinates who were in the room. “So let’s get down to business shall we.”

  “Yes, sir,” the minions replied in unison.

  “We are in for a hard couple of days,” the great leader continued. “There will be some tough orders that must be followed. Some which may seem wrong to you, but I know I can count on complete loyalty from all of you.”

  “Yes, sir,” they all shouted out.

  “Good,” Vice Admiral Meyers said drawing out the word.

  “What is your first order, sir?” his next in command asked, as he stood rigid alongside the glass high tech conference table in the middle of the command center.

  “Give me ten minutes to do some planning, will you. Meanwhile put a list together of the people I need to talk to,” the Vice Admiral said seriously to the young man. The Vice Admiral was really waiting for the President’s communique to be sent out.

  “As you wish, sir,” the Army veteran who was a major saluted and turned on his heel.

  ***

  When a copy of the communique landed on his desk, Vice Admiral Meyers roared. “Who do I call first?”

  “The commander of the nearest military base,” his assistant replied.

  “Get me General Davidson at Fort Meade then,” he commanded his communications officer.

  General Davidson and Vice Admiral Meyers didn’t get along very well. Davidson didn’t like taking orders from a Navy man as Davidson was a lifetime Army man. But the rift between them had more to do with the Vice Admiral’s reputation for arrogance, his heavy handedness, and his willingness to press the button rather than work towards a peaceful settlement. It could get people killed and they would be Davidson’s people this time. Today there would be no friendly banter on the phone.

  When General Davidson came on line, Vice Admiral Meyers didn’t bother to greet him. “You know the President has put me in command of squashing the riots and unrest in Washington, don’t you?” Vice Admiral demanded.

  “We received a communique from the White House, a few minutes ago. It told me you were in charge,” General Davidson replied dead pan.

  “You will not be receiving any additional orders from the White House. The President himself will likely be a target. I have been charged with cleaning up this mess,” the Vice Admiral said with fake disgust.

  “I understand many Congressmen have already been murdered,” General Davidson acknowledged. “Do you have any idea who is behind this?”

  “Don’t know yet,” Vice Admiral Meyers replied. “For all I know, the President may be in on the plot himself — for political reasons.”

  “Stranger things have happened,” the general admitted while trying to act civil to his new commandant.

  The Vice Admiral pressed his advantage. “You will take all your orders from me now and you will do exactly as I say, or I’ll have you relieved of you duties. Do you understand, General?”

  “Yes, sir,” General Davidson replied without emotion.

  “Now, I want this mess in the capital cleaned up immediately. Send in your troops and blockade the city. Find the rioters and stop them. Your men are authorized to use deadly force, if they need to.”

  “Do you want us to take the captured rioters to jail or to our base?” General Davidson asked.

  “I want them in the morgue,” the Vice Admiral replied a little too loudly. “But I’ll settle for the jail. We might have to bring more troops into the city and we will need the facilities base.”

  “Anything else, sir,” the General asked sarcastically.

  “Once you clear the streets of rioters and looters, I want you to post men around the city. I want the maximum number of checkpoints possible. The current rioting is only the beginning. There will be more trouble.”

  “That seems a bit over the top, sir.”

  “We suspect a plague maybe involved,” Vice Admiral Meyers added to raise the general’s concern.

  “I’ve heard that too, sir,” General Davidson replied. “But how do I protect my men?” he asked.

  “They should wear gas masks and I suggest you issue shoot-to-kill orders for anyone suspected of being infected. We are working on finding out who carries the plague right now. By tomorrow, we should know,” Vice Admiral responded.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That is all,” Vice Admiral Meyers huffed and hung up the phone. Nobody could see the smile on his face.

  “Who’s next on the list?” he called out.

  Chapter Sixty

  T

  he people at Dewey & Beatem were still trying to find a solution to stop the Effort. The plot to kill illegals at the home centers in Chicago was a tough one to crack. They were huddled around a map of the home centers when Marlene made a surprise announcement.

  “It’s a plague,” she said calmly.

  “How did you find out?” The always suspicious Haleigh inquired.

  “We recovered a spray canister which was not completely empty,” Marlene said. “Our scien
tists have been working on the contents for a couple of hours now. They have confirmed that the nanobots are carrying a plague.”

  “How did you get the canister?” Steve asked. He wondered if the information would help in stopping the sprayers in the future.

  “We got it because of some good luck,” she explained. “We collected the canister from a Congressman who was taking a shower with an unknown woman,” Marlene noted. Several eyebrows in the room went up. Everyone was pretty sure the woman wasn’t his wife from the way Marlene spoke.

  “And?” Loni interrupted.

  “The Congressman was already showering when the woman entered the shower. She suddenly attempted to spray him in the face. Fortunately, he remembered the warning from the President and batted the sprayer aside just as the woman pressed the plunger. She sprayed herself instead.”

  “Then what happened?” Loni demanded.

  “They wrestled for a minute and he managed to knock her out. He called his security team, but by the time they went into the bathroom with hazmat gear, she was dead and the sprayer was next to her body.”

  “And the Congressman?” Bart jumped in.

  “They have him isolated, but so far he seems fine,” Marlene responded. “But we were able to get live nanobots to analyze from the canister. That’s how we were able to find the plague.”

  “Interesting,” Bart muttered.

  “So the woman must have been connected to the Effort,” Banyon reasoned. “I didn’t know they used women. This is a new complication.”

  “The congressman says he met her in a bar,” Marlene explained. “He claims he didn’t have sex with her and was surprised when she entered the shower.”

  “Okay, I believe that,” Haleigh commented with a snort. “But it does mean that our sprayers could be men or women.”

  “Explain the plague. What kind of plague is it?” Loni asked as fear gripped her heart. She already knew there were several different kinds of plagues. Some were more dangerous than others. She had learned about them from Colton Banyon earlier. Some had killed millions of people.