The Ultimate Revenge

by Sally Fernandez

  Noble flapped both hands in the air, “Now I’m thoroughly confused. I still haven’t made the connection to the United Nations.”

  Adam pressed on; he was about to connect the dots. “Two months before the CLEAR Act passed in the House, the president signed Executive Order 1-3-5-4-7, titled ‘Stewardship of the Ocean, Our Coasts, and the Great Lakes.’ It specifically called for,” Adam looked down and read…

  America’s stewardship of the ocean, our coasts, and the Great Lakes is intrinsically linked to environmental sustainability, human health and well-being, national prosperity, adaptation to climate and other environmental changes, social justice, international diplomacy, and national and homeland security.

  “The Law of the Sea Treaty!” Noble was stunned.

  “Bingo! The language in the Clear Act reverts back to the prior Executive Order that substantially mandates membership in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea Treaty, or LOST, bypassing the two-thirds votes required to ratify it in the Senate.” Adam was impressed that Noble had knowledge of LOST, the international agreement that defined the rights and responsibility of nations and their use of the world’s oceans.

  “It sounds a bit like global governance,” Noble acknowledged.

  “It sounds a lot like global governance. I also portend this Act will place a permanent roadblock to American energy, locking down our offshore drilling capabilities.” Adam abruptly changed topics. “Are you familiar with the Tres Amigas Project?”

  Noble was excited by the question and played along. He assumed it would all start to make sense. “It’s a sort of national gateway that would connect the Eastern, Texas, and Western Interconnections and control the transmission of power to all states, with the exception of Alaska and Hawaii. It was in the news for a while and then there appeared to be no further mention. I just assumed it was one of those shovel-ready projects to nowhere. Why is it important?”

  “They call it the Superstation and it is alive and well. It is still around and it is not just a super-power-station. The goal is to create a super power exchange, in addition to opening up markets for renewable energy. Investors and private placements fund the project.”

  Noble shifted in his chair. Now we are getting somewhere, he thought.

  Adam went on to explain that while the project was still in the construction phase, it had been slow going. In 2009, the governor of New Mexico granted a ninety-nine year lease in the city of Clovis for the Superstation. In return, the state would receive approximately nine million dollars per year in revenue, once it is operational; it was originally slated for 2014, and then pushed to 2016.

  “In fact, it wasn’t until 2013 that FERC first granted approval to interconnect with the Southwestern’s transmission system, allowing them to begin the first phase. Then they needed additional approvals from FERC for the other interconnections, and they’re still acquiring the rights-of-way for transmission lines throughout the region,” Adam clarified.

  “I’m following.”

  “Okay, have you heard of Stronghold Management?”

  “Of course, they’ve been awarded a multitude of government contracts. Primarily, they are consulting gurus operating within a multitude of industries, providing design, operations, and project management services.”

  “That’s a simplification. They operate in sixty countries, with over thirty thousand employees, bringing in annual revenue of over seven billion U.S. dollars. One of their major projects is to manage the construction services for the Superstation.”

  Noble gave his undivided attention to Adam as his interest amplified.

  “Bear with me,” Adam cautioned, “it gets more interesting. Between the years of 2009 to 2012, the federal government granted Stronghold Management over two billion dollars of stimulus money from the Jobs Recovery Act. Their contracts were awarded to several governmental agencies, including the DOE.”

  Adam described how he scoured over 470 government quarterly reports on the government’s recovery.gov website and reviewed the various Stronghold grants. The reports indicated that the total number of jobs created was slightly over 7300, but fifty percent of those jobs remained in the government and the other half fell into a category called other. He found that many of the reports indicated less than one job created, with a qualifying statement that read, No jobs created, only retained.

  “It was hard to determine on this transparent website just how many jobs were created with the expenditure of over two-billion taxpayers’ dollars.”

  Noble was stunned. “This is starting to smack of crony capitalism.”

  “It’s not a smack; it’s a straight-out head butt. By the way, did I mention that Stronghold Management reallocated upward of ten million dollars of stimulus money to manage the design of a defunct solar manufacturing plant in California?”

  So we’re using taxpayer dollars not only to build a company, which we know failed, but also to keep that company from going into bankruptcy.

  “And the political peddling is even worse.” Adam explained, “In one year, Stronghold Management’s political donations totaled over six million dollars. Add that to another four million dollars for lobbyists; it takes their influence in Washington to new heights.”

  To Noble it sounded like a resounding climax, but he could not fathom how this would lead him closer to Simon. Even still, he found it fascinating and urged Adam to continue. “You never told me why you left the department?”

  “I started to dig deeper and deeper into the Stronghold companies and the Superstation. Stronghold has a long list of infractions and disputes with the government, including timecard fraud and paid kickbacks.”

  “I thought you said the DOE and the other agencies continued to pay out stimulus money to Stronghold?”

  “They did, and what I discovered was frightening. Stronghold’s Remediation Company managed environmental cleanup projects. Remember when we spoke about one of my clients, a producer of beryllium?”

  “Yes. I recall they were having difficulty accessing the drilling sites due to the surrounding federal-owned land.”

  “That’s what I thought at the time. Now I believe it had more to do with environmental reasons. Stronghold was chartered with the cleanup of the beryllium by-product, the dust particles created when developing the metal used in the nuclear industry. They received hefty fines for not adhering to proper work restrictions regarding nuclear waste.”

  Adam’s excitement had waned, but he continued to explain his predicament in a doleful manner. “After careful consideration, and even knowing what I had uncovered trailed back to the DOE, I decided to become a standard-bearer for whistleblowing. Out of respect, I first spoke with my boss, the newly appointed Secretary of the Department of Energy.”

  Adam was chameleonic with emotion, trading in calm for extreme agitation. “My boss reminded me who I was going up against! In his words, ‘beware, they own the government, or at least aspects of the government.’ I was not absolutely sure whom he was speaking about specifically and he wouldn’t elaborate. Then I started to get mysterious veiled threats to both my family and me. The mention of my family was all it took. It was not a battle I wanted to fight.” He stopped. Then with a touch of angst he stressed, “Particularly frightening—was that the only person I told of my concerns—was my boss.”

  Noble grimaced. “Based on recent events of what’s happening to government whistleblowers of late you made the right choice. However, by confiding in me I feel compelled to pursue these matters fully.” He noted Adam’s discomfort. “It’s a new administration. Do you want to speak to the president?” Noble asked.

  “No. I’m not going down that road. Frankly, I don’t trust anyone in the government.”

  “If you change your mind, I’ll do whatever I can to help. But Adam, I’m still not quite sure what the link is between all of these events.”

  Adam began to fidget as he glanced around the room. Then straightaway with one hand, he reached for his pen, and with th
e other grabbed the cocktail napkin lying on the table. After a moment of hesitation, he scribbled something on the napkin and handed it to Noble. “Follow the trail—but be careful.”

  Noble looked down at the scrawling. “What!”

  “It’s late. I need to get home.” Adam’s agitation was evident.

  “Go. I’ll pick up the check.” Noble remained alone in the booth. Land grabs, United Nations, global governance, power exchange. Nothing seems to connect to Simon. He rolled the words around in his mind. Then noting the time, he settled the bill and headed for his apartment.

  6

  DREAM DATE

  Noble eased the key gently into the lock and turned it to the right. At the same time, he tightened his jaw, hoping his entry would not disrupt the silence. He crept through his apartment, removing his clothing along the way, and then he slithered in between the bed sheets.

  “That was an enjoyable evening,” mumbled the sleepy voice next to him.

  Noble, pleased she was half-awake, rolled over for a goodnight kiss.

  Amanda pushed back kiddingly, and probed, “Why did you and Adam have to conduct business tonight? That’s not your usual style during a social evening with friends.”

  “I needed to discuss a critical issue with him,” Noble whispered. “It’s germane to a case I’m working on.” Artfully, he diverted the subject, pulled her into his arms for a more passionate embrace, and cooed, “I love you. Now let’s get some sleep.”

  “Noble—wake-up.” She rocked his shoulder several times to no avail. His body continued to squirm about in the bed. “Noble—Noble.” she uttered in a more forceful, but fearful tone.

  Suddenly, he awoke from his fitful sleep flailing his arms, startling Amanda even more.

  “Darling, are you okay?” she asked in a calming voice. She had never seen him so vulnerable. She refrained from commenting, but it caused her great concern.

  At last, Noble sat up in bed and strained to slow down his breathing. Then he began to sound off. “I had a terrible dream! I was falling, falling deeper and deeper into a dark hole! My body became numb and I couldn’t feel my legs!” His breathing again accelerated.

  Amanda rubbed his back in an attempt to calm him down. “It’s okay. You’re with me. You’re not falling.”

  “It was so dark! I realized I was surrounded by water! I was confused! I couldn’t breathe! Then, as I gasped for my last breath of air—I found myself standing on a bridge—looking down into an abyss…”

  “Darling, calm down please! You’re scaring me.”

  “Let me finish!” He held her hand gently and in a steadier voice, said, “A face was staring back from the black water, but it wasn’t my reflection.” He gulped several times and then stared into her eyes and said, “It was his face.”

  “Whose face?” Amanda’s heart ached to see him looking so helpless.

  Noble refrained from answering.

  “Honey, how long has this been going on?” Her expression was total wonderment.

  He glanced away and admitted, “For a while. They are just more frequent.” Then sounding natural as though the dream never happened, he looked once again into her eyes and said, “Amanda, when you think you’re about to die, you search for a reason to live—you were the first reason that entered my mind.” Noble took a moment, and then before he lost his nerve, he blurted out, “Will you marry me?”

  Amanda was blown away by the question as she struggled to grapple with the events of the last several minutes. For the first time she was speechless.

  “Does your silence mean no?”

  Piercing through her fog, she cried, “Yes, yes, I will marry you. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, but…” Noble stopped mid-sentence, wanting to select his words with the utmost care.

  Amanda retreated into silence again. She had expected a possible caveat, despite their intense romantic interlude. She also surmised any response would be useless.

  “Much to my dismay we have to wait until this case is over.”

  “You mean Simon.”

  “Yes.”

  “Darling, you’ve spent the last nine years going after him. Before that, Hamilton spent another fifteen years. Simon has escaped twice. What makes you think it will ever be over?” Amanda realized she was pleading, but she could not hold back at that life-changing moment.

  “I just know!” Noble shouted. “This time I will capture the S-O-B and close the case forever!” He despised the pain he caused Amanda and softened his tone. “I just need a little more time to seal his doom.”

  He kissed Amanda gently and apologized. “I regret you had to see me in such a foolish state.” Then he allowed, “I do believe in the notion that dreams of falling are just an indication of feeling overwhelmed and anxious. It’s good old fashion stress.”

  “According to Freud, it’s an indication that you’re surrendering to a sexual urge.” Amanda glanced at him with a come-hither, twinkling smile.

  Noble gently rolled her back into bed to seal the deal.

  7

  A MAJOR UPSET

  It was President’s Day and the White House was eerily quiet. The only real activity was taking place in Noble’s lair. On his orders, many of his staff were in attendance.

  At least it was quiet until Max rushed past Doris at her usual hurried pace.

  “He’s in with someone right now. You’ll have to wait your turn.”

  “This is important.”

  “It’s always important! He should only be a few more minutes.”

  Max began to pace back and forth impatiently gathering her thoughts.

  “Max! Would you please stand still,” Doris pleaded.

  Without warning, the office door swung open.

  “Max, what’s with all the noise?”

  Ignoring Noble’s rebuke, she breezed past him into his office. The sight of Major Stanton caught her short.

  The major stood tall in full uniform and donned a broad smile.

  Noble took note and said, “Give us a minute.” He gestured the major toward the conference room, “We’ll join you shortly.”

  Stanton left and waited next door.

  Noble closed his office door, putting Doris and Stanton out of earshot. “Rather rude,” he chided.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “He’s here to update us on the detainee interrogations. Meanwhile, I offered the major a reassignment.”

  “You what! Why didn’t you tell me? I can’t work with him!”

  “Max, relax. It is not with the agency. The head of the president’s secret service detail is retiring and the president asked if I would recommend a replacement. He appears to be the leading candidate.”

  “Why Stanton?”

  “Why all the fury?” Noble had an inkling of their relationship, but he would let Max squirm a bit.

  Max, ignoring his question, only flushed as she repeated, “Why Stanton?”

  “He has a sterling record, and also the major is one of the few who knows the entrance to the encampment. In a crisis he is the best equipped to shield the president. You know as well as anyone, if Simon is planning a strike on a national scale, the president will need protection.”

  “Why is the entrance to the encampment such a secret anyway?”

  “That’s one secret I can’t disclose. Let it go, Max.”

  When he used that serious tone, she had learned it was time to close the book.

  Noble stood firm by his promise to the president to protect the location of the Presidential Lair—a promise he would never break.

  The underground encampment Simon used for a terrorist training camp was a bunker that in 1953, President Eisenhower decommissioned by executive order. Subsequently, it was removed from the military roster. At the time, the president had seen the end of a devastating war and the beginning of the Cold War. The bunker was to be a place of last resort, should the enemy discover the other established safe havens. Total secrecy of the bunker was essential.<
br />
  The reference to the underground encampment’s existence was in the President’s Book of Secrets—a book passed on exclusively from president to president. Out of forty-six United States presidents, there are only seven alive who know the location of the facility, tagged the Presidential Lair. The book contained the blueprint and the location of the bunker. However, someone callously ripped the page out of the book. It happened during the Baari Administration—after Simon learned of its existence. Noble logically concluded the person most likely to have access to the book and the blueprint would be Baari’s chief of staff and Simon’s accomplice, Hank Kramer.

  “While we’re on the subject, I’ve also asked to have Agent Burke reassigned to head up the D.C. bureau. The FBI Director is in accord.”

  “He knows the location too,” Max chimed in sarcastically and then relented. “I admit I don’t understand why, but I do understand you want to keep us all close until Simon is collared. They’re both good guys and have proved their capability and their loyalty.”

  “All of you have!” Noble emphasized.

  “I’m aware the feds and the SIA are oftentimes in a power struggle, but Burke worked heroically by my side during Operation Nomis. He’s proved his worth.” Max caught Noble’s demeanor change. “What’s the matter?”

  “I just had a flashback of you being knocked out by the blast in the indoctrination center. You scared the hell out of me!”

  “How do you think I felt? Enough on the subject, I give up! Both Stanton and Burke may prove to be helpful, especially on this case.”