At five minutes to seven, the intercom came alive. The voice of a young woman penetrated his sleep.
“Your visitors are here,” she sweetly said. Bart realized Ryan had called the backup receptionist to cover for him.
“Send them down,” Bart replied as he rolled off the couch and stretched. “Steve, get up,” he nudged the still sleeping man. Steve jumped to his feet like he was in a fight and started to punch the air.
“Whoa, slow down buddy,” Bart said.
“Oh, sorry,” Steve replied. “Bad dream,” he said as an excuse.
***
Two minutes later, the conference room door opened. Chase and Haleigh casually strolled in. They looked very tired but eager to get to work. Chase was dressed in jeans and a green golf shirt. Haleigh had clothes on now too. They matched her husband.
Bart waited one beat and asked. “Where is Colt?”
“They weren’t in the lobby,” Haleigh replied weakly.
Bart grabbed his cell phone and dialed Banyon’s number. It went straight to voicemail. He tried Loni’s phone, but got the same results. “Goddamnit,” he yelled. “Where the hell is Banyon?”
“He’s on his way to see the President in Washington,” Marlene replied on the big screen monitor. She had suddenly appeared on the screen at precisely seven o’clock.
“But he is supposed to be here,” Bart complained loudly. “Why is he going to see the President instead?”
“They have a plan to put a stop to Vice Admiral Meyers and the Effort. From what I know, it requires Banyon to be in Washington,” Marlene said. “We will have to proceed without Colt and Loni.”
“But I need to see…,” Bart started. He was cut off by Marlene.
“Before we start, the President has asked me to deliver a message to you Bart,” Marlene said flatly with no emotion.
Bart brightened with the mention of his old college roommate. “What’s the message?” Bart asked cheerfully. He expected congratulations for the takedown of the nanobot factory and a big bonus too.
“He wants you to back off your surveillance of Colton Banyon,” Marlene said in a frosty tone. “He wants you to stop bugging his car, his home and every conversation he has with someone besides you.”
“What makes you think…” But Bart was cut off by Marlene.
“Colton Banyon is a special asset of the President. He does not work for you Bart. Do you understand? This is a direct order.”
“I…I,” Bart flapped his mouth.
“If you don’t stop immediately, the President will find someplace else for Banyon to work,” Marlene added. “You will lose the money he brings into the firm.”
“But Colt and I are friends,” Bart retorted.
Haleigh suddenly spoke up. “Yesterday Colt told me you bugged the van and his car. So it is true then.”
Bart flapped his gums again but could come up with nothing to say.
“If you are friends, then be his friend and not his shadow,” Marlene responded in a voice which could freeze water. “God knows we pay you enough money already,” she continued to chide him. “Are you that greedy, Bart?”
Bart’s face turned beet red. He struggled for something to say. “I’ll make sure none of my employees ever bugs him,” he said to save face.
“Let me make this perfectly clear,” Marlene shouted. “We are not talking about any of your people Bart. We are talking about you personally. Stop all surveillance of Colton Banyon immediately or suffer the consequences.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bart replied in a subdued voice.
“And you’ll stop trying to find out how he gets things done too,” Marlene further pressed him.
“That too,” Bart said sheepishly.
“And stop over-charging him for everything,” Marlene added.
Chapter Eighty-Six
P
ramilla landed the plane in Washington D.C. at ten forty-five in the morning. The team hadn’t gotten any rest or sleep during the trip. They had spent the entire flight going through the Schultz treasure. They didn’t want to leave it at the airport in Las Vegas, so they piled it into the plane. It was an irresistible draw to the Banyon team. Maya and Previne, the two archeologists, examined every piece with lots of oohs and aahs. In the end, Previne determined the spoils were worth much more than what Wolf had told Banyon.
“I see three items here which I believe are priceless. They are all paintings.” She continued, “I can’t put a value on them but they need to be returned to their original owner.”
“And what do you think is the value of the rest of the treasure?” Loni inquired.
“The rest of the treasure is worth around 100 million dollars,” Previne said.
“We should easily get 10-15 million dollars as a finders’ fee,” Maya exclaimed with joy.
“But who will we present it to?” Loni asked.
“We’re going to turn it over to ICE. They are a division of Homeland Security,” Banyon announced. “They work closely with the Holocaust Art Recovery Working Group and Cultural Heritage Unit, both run by the State Department. That way Marlene can get some credit for the find as well,” he told them. His team all agreed.
“When will we do that?” Loni asked.
“As soon as we are done taking down Michael Meyers,” Banyon replied.
“We’ll need to watch over it until then,” Previne said.
Banyon got up and stuck his head into the cockpit. “Pramilla, please radio the tower and have them send us some security people to guard the plane while we are gone,” Banyon quickly said as she taxied the plane. “We don’t want anyone to enter the plane while we are gone.”
“We’re going with you?” Maya asked with surprise.
“You have to,” Banyon replied. “You’re all part of the plan.”
Chapter Eighty-Seven
L
oni looked out the window and saw a long, black, stretch limousine sitting by the hanger. The President had sent it to transport them to the bunker. “But I can’t meet with the President looking like this,” she said with horror. “Neither can the Patels.” They were all still dressed in their black stretch fighting outfits. Their clothes were dirty, they had no makeup on and their hair was disheveled.
Banyon was ready. “We have some time, we can stop at a mall,” Banyon promised as he showed them his wallet and pulled out a credit card. “It’s part of the plan,” he said.
“What’s your limit on that card?” Loni quickly asked.
***
Forty-five minutes later, they pulled up to the gate area for the USNORTHCOM bunker. They were fifteen minutes late. The President was already there, standing in a slight drizzle and looking slightly annoyed. He had six Secret Service agents around him. The soldiers in the guard house for the bunker stayed inside the building but watched with interest.
Banyon and his team left the limo and quickly walked up to the President. The Secret Service agents shifted uneasily as they approached. The President told his agents to let the people through. The women on Banyon’s team all looked spectacular now in new short, colorful, dresses displaying their beautiful legs. They had cleaned up, changed in a washroom and applied newly bought makeup during the ride to the bunker. Banyon and Eric hadn’t changed, but had cleaned up in a washroom as well.
Banyon introduced each of his team members. The President shook hands with each of them and gave his best political smile. Banyon then told them to go and stand by the limo while he talked to the President. The President then ordered his agents to give them space to talk. They retreated to the Presidential vehicles.
“I have to admit, I’m a little nervous,” the big man announced. “I was never a spy during my career.”
“Be careful what you say, sir. Meyers probably has someone watching us on camera right now,” Banyon said.
“That son-of-a-bitch,” the President uttered and clinched his fists.
“I’m glad you are wearing a raincoat though,” Banyon said. “It will make it a
lot easier for me to pass you the artifact,” Banyon explained. He raised his arm to signal the women to create a distraction. Maya pretended to slip on the wet pavement and went down. The other women quickly crouched down in their short dresses to help her back up. It was just as Banyon had planned. The camera quickly zoomed in on the women.
“It’s bullet-proof,” the President responded as he opened his coat for Banyon to see. Banyon watched the camera while he slipped the four inch oval artifact over the Presidents head. The talisman now laid flat on his chest. He was sure that whoever was watching was distracted. The President quickly closed his rain coat.
“How can I be sure this thing will work for me?” the President asked.
“Try it out,” Banyon told him. “But not on me or my team. Ask someone to do something which they would never do otherwise.”
“Okay, but how does it work?” the President asked curiously.
“You have to expose the artifact while planting the thought. Just say what you want them to do. You must continue to expose it until you are finished. You can also order them to not remember anything.”
The President thought for a few seconds. “You’ll have to block the camera,” the President said. Banyon moved to be in between the President and the camera on the guardhouse and began to make funny faces like a crazy man would as a distraction.
“Sally, would you come over here for a second?” the President asked over his shoulder. His back was to the camera. Shortly, a pretty young blond woman in a skirt and suit jacket stood before him. She was part of his Secret Service detail.
He opened his raincoat and she noticed the swastika. She opened her mouth to say something, but the President beat her to the punch.
“Lift up your skirt and show me your legs,” he ordered.
Sally immediately reached down and began to pull up the hem to her skirt. The other Secret Service people could see nothing as the diminutive Sally was completely blocked by the Presidents open coat. Only the people behind her could see anything and they was Banyon’s team.
As the hem of Sally’s skirt reached an indecent height, the President reacted. “You can stop now and you will not remember anything that has happened,” the President said with a smile on his handsome face. Sally immediately dropped her skirt and stared at him.
“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?” she asked.
“Ah…never mind,” the President said with a wave of his hand. She left and Banyon now stood in front of him.
“I kind of like this thing,” the President commented. “I may keep it.”
“We can’t allow that to happen, sir,” Banyon said carefully. “Do you see those people by the car?” Banyon pointed.
“Yes, of course. They are your team.”
“Well, they have all taken several pictures with their phones and Eric has recorded a video of you abusing the woman,” Banyon explained. “If you don’t return the artifact to me at the end of this, the pictures will all go to media centers all over the country. You know what that would mean — don’t you?”
“Yeah, I would be impeached. But I can just order them to erase their pictures using the talisman,” the President replied confidently.
“They are out of range. I made sure of it when I set up this demonstration,” Banyon told him. “The artifact only has about a twenty foot range.”
The President shrugged and replied. “Okay, you win. I’ll return it to you when I leave the bunker. I’ve got bigger fish to fry anyway.”
“Thank you, sir,” Banyon replied politely.
“Remind me to never play chess with you as well as poker Colton.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Banyon said with a smile.
“Well, I’d better get going. I wouldn’t want Vice Admiral Meyers to have to wait for me,” the President announced. He offered his hand and Banyon shook it.
“I’ll see you in a little while,” he said.
Banyon watched as he approached the guard house. The Secret Service agents were in tow, but were told only the President could go inside the bunker. The nervous bunker guards wanted to frisk him, but the President roared.
“I am the Commander in Chief and a retired General. Do you really want to frisk me soldier?” He said in his most intimidating military voice.
“I suppose it will be alright to skip the body search,” the second lieutenant said nervously. “But you’ll still have to go through the metal detector.”
“I’ll not submit to that either. What do you think I am? A terrorist for Christ sake,” the President said as he placed a threatening stare at the soldier. He crossed his arms and stood his ground. It made everyone nervous, just as Banyon had planned.
“Let him through,” a voice came over the intercom. It was Vice Admiral Michael Meyers. Banyon was sure Meyers would not let a stubborn President stop his plan.
Banyon smiled, the President was in.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
T
he Commandant of USNORTHCOM was near panic as he watched the President being escorted to the bunker. He passed through the blast door and stood calmly in front of the elevator. Meyers had left his sound-proof conference room just in time to stop the security search which he had been watching on his monitor. Meyers was sure there were media people recording the topside activities, after all he had invited them, and he didn’t want it to appear the President was under duress.
As he watched the screens over the shoulder of the security analyst, he saw the President enter the elevator and begin his descent to the command area. Meyers quickly tightened his tie, ran his fingers through his hair and cursed himself for gaining twenty pounds. He then stepped to the elevator — and waited for it to open.
“Where the hell is Brenda?” he said under his breath. “She was supposed to be here by now.”
“Excuse me, sir?” an aide said.
“Oh nothing,” Meyers replied when he realized someone had heard him.
“Very well sir.” The aide said.
“Go make sure lunch is ready in the conference room. I don’t want it screwed up too,” he snapped at his aide.
Vice Admiral Meyers was, so far, not having a good day and it accounted for his foul mood. He had experienced several setbacks so far this morning. He had not been able to stop the riots in Washington. Several people had died, but only a few were Hispanics and the local commander had refused to implement the shoot to kill order for all Hispanics found on the street.
The Chinese and N. Korean fleets were just hours away from American shores and the radio traffic sounded like an invasion was imminent. He currently didn’t have a way to stop them. The President still commanded the ships at sea and they posed a big threat as well. He didn’t have enough missiles to stop both threats.
He had waited with anticipation for the news to start reporting the mass killings in Chicago, but by eleven o’clock, the only reports out of Chicago were of some men dying outside of home centers. While most were Hispanic, the reporter said the murders were all suspected as being gang related. After all, the announcer reported, Chicago had the highest murder rate in the country. Another report said the mail delivery for the Chicago metro area was delayed due to a fire at the main post office.
Meyers could see the Effort’s grand plan falling apart rapidly. He was the only hope to make it work. Even Brenda and the old man weren’t returning his calls. But he intended to fix all that very soon.
The elevator doors opened and out stepped the President.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. President,” Vice Admiral Meyers said cordially. “Shall we retreat to the conference room for lunch?”
Chapter Eighty-Nine
T
he two men maneuvered around several workstations. The President smiled and waved to the workers at their stations. He seemed relaxed and not under any kind of pressure. They eventually came to the conference room and Meyers allowed the President to step inside first, using a wave of his hand. Vice Admiral Meyers followed, closed the
door and locked it. Two Marine guards stationed themselves in front of the entrance. No one was going to be allowed to enter. Several service men snuck a peek into the half-open room and concluded the two men were going to have a quiet lunch.
Vice Admiral Meyers walked to the back and took the seat at the head of the table, a place usually reserved for the President. He wanted the President to know he was in charge. He had a clear view of the control room and saw several people look in. He was pleased with his strategy so far.
“Sit down and eat,” Meyers offered graciously with open hands. The President still had his raincoat buttoned to the top and remained standing with his hands in his pocket and his back to the door.
“I’m not very hungry,” he replied and stared menacingly at the Vice Admiral.
“Suit yourself. The food is quite good down here,” Meyers said amiably. He picked up his knife and fork and began to cut into his roasted chicken.
The President noticed the Vice Admiral’s hand shook as he tried to cut the meat. It was a sure sign of the pressure Meyers was under. He had felt the same kind of pressure himself, several times. “Looks good, though,” he calmly said.
Meyers wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed and was buying for time. Maybe Brenda will show up yet, he thought. “We’ll get to our business after I finish eating then,” Meyers said with food in his mouth.
“I’ve scheduled time. I’ve nothing better to do at the moment,” the President replied sarcastically.
The President continued standing, with his back to the door and just stared at Meyers. It was unnerving the Vice Admiral. “Well at least sit down while I’m eating. You’re displaying the manners of a sore loser,” he said arrogantly — to rub it in.
The President said nothing but unbuttoned a few buttons on his raincoat and reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out a folded letter and dropped it on the table. “Sign it,” he ordered.
A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10) Page 31
