The Ultimate Revenge
Page 9
Max caught an odd expression on Noble’s face. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“That statement from 1992 is incredibly similar to the statement the president made in South Africa in 2013. Hank reminded me of the president’s ‘earth boiling over’ speech this morning during our meeting.” He lightened up a tad and chuckled slightly at the seeming coincidence, and then refocused on the monitor. “What’s the connection between the rest of your featured players?”
Max moved the pointer to the next box with the name Mikhail Gorbachev. “In 1993 Gorbachev, then a private citizen following the fall of the Soviet Union established Green Cross International, a nonprofit, to focus on sustainability as a follow up on his work at the Earth Summit. He and the Godfather are close friends.”
“So their common ground is sustainability?’
“Yes, and another friend of both men was also instrumental in helping to shape the agenda for the Summit. His name is Albert Gore Junior, the former Vice President and self-accredited earth scientist. Gore’s relationship with the Godfather goes farther back to when he was a senator. According to the Godfather, Gore was instrumental in the political process for the U.S. to endorse the Summit.”
“Why Gore? Bush was the president at the time.”
“Evidently, Bush was reluctant up until the eleventh hour. It was the then-Senator Gore who convinced him to attend.”
“Interesting circle of friends,” Noble noted.
Max smiled as she highlighted the pointer onto the next box that contained the name William Jefferson Clinton. “The year following the Earth Summit, President Clinton issued Executive Order 1-2-8-5-2, establishing the President’s Council on Sustainable Development, bypassing Congress.”
“Why did he have to bypass Congress? Bush Senior participated in the signing ceremony at the Summit.”
“Agenda 21 is not a treaty as such, and therefore is non-binding. However, Clinton’s Executive Order mirrors Agenda 21.” Max noticed Noble demonstrating impatience. “Take a deep breath. This will all start to make sense.” She refocused on her notes. “Clinton’s National Security Advisor, Richard Clark, ousted an unofficial pact named Operation Orient Express. It was organized by some members of the Clinton Administration to convince the members of the U.N. Security Council to block Boutros-Boutros-Ghali’s appointment to a second term as Secretary-General of the U.N. The major objective was to engineer the appointment of Kofi Annan, which they did successfully. Annan then created a position at the U.N. for an Under Secretary-General for UN Reform.”
Without missing a beat, Noble picked up. “And lo and behold, he appointed the Godfather to the position.”
“And, as I mentioned earlier, Annan also brought the Queen of Sustainability, Brundtland, back to the U.N. in 1998.”
“This all seem rather incestuous.”
“It ain’t shuffleboard. Wait, it gets more titillating. In 2005, the Godfather left the U.N and headed for China, making Beijing his new home.”
“China?”
“Yes, there were allegations that he was involved in the Oil-for-Food Scandal at the U.N that implicated Kofi Annan’s son. You recall the U.N. ostensibly permitted Iraq to sell oil to feed its people, despite the ongoing war, and much to the surprise of many thoroughly versed in the issue. Paul Volker’s Commission investigated the scandal, but appeared to negate the evidence and exonerated the participants. The commission never leveled charges, but the Godfather’s departure to China raised suspicions. Interestingly, he operates his businesses from an office in the Tayuan Diplomatic Residence Compound in Beijing. It is the same compound as three other U.N. agencies: the Industrial Development Organization, the Population Fund, and the High Commission for Refugees.”
“So he’s still playing footsy with the U.N.?”
“Not in any official capacity. However, in 2012, the Godfather made a rare appearance as a special guest of honor at the Rio 20 + Summit, the twenty-year anniversary of the Earth Summit. The United Nations Development Program in Beijing paid for his round-trip ticket, along with hotel and living expenses, based on the examination of the travel documents. Why is it the billionaires always get the freebies?” Max did not expect a retort and walked back to the table to grab another document.
“This guy’s a real man of mystery,” Noble observed.
“Well, whatever the scandal, the Godfather pops up in good company unscathed, including U.N. secretary-generals, world leaders, and other luminaries who continue to seek his counsel. His last official post with the U.N. was special envoy to North Korea appointed by Kofi Annan; it ended in 2005.”
Max quoted from her paper a tribute from Annan on the Godfather’s website that read:
If the world succeeds in making a transition to truly sustainable development, all of us will owe no small debt of gratitude… whose prescience and dynamic presence on the International stage have played a key role in convincing governments and grassroots alike to embrace the principle…
She placed the document back on the table, shaking her head in disbelief. Noble, with equal frustration on his face and in his voice, asked the inevitable question, “Who is this Godfather?”
“He’s been called everything derogatory from the ‘Father of America’s Destruction’ to ‘World Enemy Number One.’ CBS reporter Ann-Marie McDonald described him as a cross between Machiavelli and Rasputin. Conversely, he has been a guest of honor at state dinners around the world and the recipient of multiple awards. He even received the prestigious Four Freedoms Award from the Roosevelt Institute. Despite all these labels, he prefers the title, ‘Citizen of the World.’ All viewpoints aside, he’s a self-described socialist, capitalist, and a staunch environmentalist.”
“An interesting mix of dogmata,” Noble postured.
“The Godfather clearly states that his belief in socialism go so far as it provides an economic base to meet the social needs of the people, and capitalism as a means to create and manage wealth to meet the socialist needs.”
“It sounds like redistribution of wealth.”
“It’s textbook socialism,” Max averred, and then added, “The other side of the Godfather’s coin is an assortment of notable capitalistic business ventures, some failed, and some questionable. In any case, he’s managed to sustain his status as a billionaire. You’ll love this tidbit. Have you heard of China’s Chery Automobile?”
“A trifle, didn’t it bomb?”
“It never made it to the U.S., even though it’s one of the largest Chinese automobile manufacturers that exports to over thirty countries. A plan was underway by Malcom Bricklin, founder of Subaru of America, and notable for importing the Yugoslavian car the Yugo.”
“The Yugo! They were considered the worst cars on the road and he went bankrupt on that venture.”
“Well, he tried again, along with partners, to flood the U.S. market in 2007 with as many as two-hundred-fifty-thousand Chery cars made on the cheap, and directed toward the low-end market. He established the company Visionary Vehicles. The Godfather was on the board of directors.”
Max paused to ensure she lay out the events in an accurate sequence. “In 2005 and in 2006, Chery automobile had two major recalls due to faulty wiring. Again, in 2006, General Motors filed a lawsuit citing the piracy act against Chery for developing a knock-off of South Korea’s Daewoo’s Spark, GM’s partner in the U.S. market. And, in the midst of it all, the Chinese found a better offer, much to Bricklin and his partners’ ire.”
Max paused. She was about to send up another flare and shed some light.
Noble caught her expression. “There’s more?”
“Fasten your seatbelt. The plan had all the earmarks of a fast buck scheme—the environment took a back seat. In the end, the suit squelched Bricklin’s and the Godfather’s ambitions, along with their partner who invested two-hundred-million dollars—they call him the Financier.” Max smirked.
“The Financier!” Noble exclaimed, almost bowling over in his seat. “You’re not sug
gesting he is Baari’s Financier. The same billionaire that pours money into U.S. liberal and social agendas?”
“Boss, it can’t be a coincidence.”
Noble heaved a few deep breaths and announced, “This is all fascinating, but I don’t see a connection between the Godfather, the Superstation, and Simon. My source, a former insider, wouldn’t have mentioned Agenda 21, otherwise.”
“Boss, the Superstation, on the surface, appears to be a phantom company, although it’s very real. Even the Navajo tribe invested one-point-five-billion dollars. Strangely enough, this multibillion-dollar undertaking to create what is billed as America’s first renewable energy transmission hub isn’t all over the U.S. news. If you were to ask any person on the street, he or she, in all probability, would have no clue as to what it’s all about.”
“Who’s handling their PR, ghost whisperers?” Noble quipped.
“Real or not, this consortium will have their collective hand on the master switch. You would think the public would at least take an interest in who controls the transmission of all their energy. The same energy supply needed to recharge their electronic gear and to watch their favorite TV shows.”
“In all seriousness, if Simon is planning to take down our U.S. power grids or use the Superstation as its control point, it has to be part and parcel of Agenda 21. We must connect all the dots before we can move in for the kill. Find the connection, Max.
11
NO WAY OUT
Director, it wasn’t necessary for you to allude to the possibility of a Senate committee hearing. You just needed to ask politely,” Maryann invoked with uncharacteristic graciousness, as she eyed Noble.
“Thank you, Senator, for agreeing to meet in my office. You are acquainted with the tools at my disposal and they will be necessary to present our findings. Senator, I also suggested you be accompanied by counsel.”
“I’m here alone on my own accord. May we begin?”
“Certainly, please have a seat.” Noble walked toward the head of the conference room table and motioned Maryann to the seat on his right.
Max was still standing to his left with her back to the large screen monitor.
Considering the cogent evidence, Noble decided to forgo the usual string of questions and instead reconstructed the crime for the senator’s edification.
Max queued up the surveillance tape.
“Senator, please focus on the video,” Noble requested.
The scene showed Maryann disembarking the plane at the South Valley Regional Airport in Jordan, Utah.
Max hit the Fast-forward button and then hit play.
Maryann continued to watch coldly as she viewed the decoy leave the Ladies’ Room. Then she saw herself on the screen leaving the building and hailing a taxi.
Max paused the video.
“Senator, we know the taxi stopped at a Mail Boxes Etc. and that you returned to the taxi minutes later with a large envelope. The taxi driver then drove you to a used car lot, where preparations had been made for you to pick up a Ford Escape anonymously.” Noble methodically laid out her moves.
Maryann remained steadfast as she focused on the screen.
Max advanced the video to the scene in the interrogation room at the Draper Prison.
“You signed the prison visitor’s log at nine o’clock p.m.” Noble confirmed.
Max paused the video once again. “Pay particular attention to the expression on the prisoner’s face when you sit upright, having just placed your handbag on the floor.”
Max hit the Play button.
As Maryann watched the video she flinched in unison with Simon—an obvious silent signal.
Max hit the Pause button.
“What are you implying?” Maryann asked, directing her question to Noble.
“It is our opinion that you passed an xPhad to Simon—one he used to program his escape. We know for a fact that you left the Ford Escape outside the prison grounds and Simon used it as his getaway car.”
“Pure supposition! You have no proof,” she stated belligerently.
“On the contrary, a prison guard testified that he called a taxi for you when you were ready to leave. He had no memory of your arrival in a taxi as you previously claimed. In addition, we found the Ford Escape abandoned in a bordering state rather carelessly disposed of, since the attempt to burn the vehicle failed. We were, however, able to lift fingerprints. The prints are yours.” This time Noble evidently rattled the senator.
Maryann appeared somewhat off balance.
Max hit the Play button without delay.
Noble maintained the pressure.
Maryann reluctantly watched herself on the screen as she exited the stairwell to enter her hotel suite. Seconds later, she saw herself open the door to receive the ice bucket from her secret service agent. “So what do we do now?” she asked in an imperious tone.
“I ask the questions and you answer honestly. First, I advise you again to ask your attorney to be present. We can postpone the questioning for now.”
“I’d prefer to deal with this situation on my own without others involved. But I demand some form of immunity.”
“We’ll talk immunity after you answer some pertinent questions,” Noble insisted.
Up to that point, Maryann had remained stoic, but unexpectedly her demeanor shifted to a supplicant one. “He threatened to kidnap my daughter and take her to Libya. He said I would never see her again. I had no choice!”
“Simon threatened you?”
“No, it was Abner.”
“Baari was helping Simon escape?” Noble pressed.
Suddenly, tears began to well up in her eyes.
Max stood by and watched the byplay; Maryann was unconvincing.
Noble tried to be avuncular. “Would you like a moment alone?”
“Yes.”
Noble moved the pitcher of water and a glass from the sideboard and placed them on the table in front of Maryann. Then he and Max left the conference room.
“Do you really buy the crocodile tears?” Max tested.
“They look genuine.”
“I’m not so sure, Noble. Call it a woman’s intuition. She’s getting her revenge on Baari for betraying her.”
“It had to have hurt. Don’t be such a hard ass, Max.”
“Suppose she’s setting up Baari as a deflection, while helping Simon. As far as we know, Baari’s sitting pretty in Libya, pulling strings in all directions. It would make no sense that he would run the risk and come back to help Simon. It doesn’t compute.”
Max had made valid points. But to be certain, Noble requested, “Delve into the possibility of Baari’s undercover return with the Immigration Agency. Also try to trace any phone calls that may have transpired between Maryann and Baari, or with Simon.”
She furrowed her brow, but for a different reason. “Are you really going to give her immunity? She lied before. How do you know she is not lying now?”
“Yes, to your first question, under certain conditions. I’ve discussed it thoroughly with our in-house counsel and given the prevailing circumstances, I have the authority. To answer your second question, she might be lying but I’m also convinced she could be useful in the capture of Simon.”
Noble had pondered the issue for several days. As a first lady, he felt Maryann was recognized as weak, and while he did not subscribe to her political ideology, as a senator she was considered responsible. He took into account his part in the downfall of Baari, recalling it also caused the end of her marriage. In its wake, a nine-year-old daughter may have been used as a bargaining chip. Noble could not bring himself to destroy the child’s mother as well. In the final analysis, Maryann was still viable in the chase for Simon.
Noble turned and headed back to the conference room. Max followed.
He knocked on the door before they entered the room and they then returned to their respective chairs.
“Can we now talk about an immunity agreement?” Maryann appeared to have returned to her
typical regal manner.
“May I ask you once again, would you prefer to have your attorney join you?” Noble asked earnestly.
“As a lawyer, I’m perfectly capable of negotiating my own agreement. I do not need to be surrounded by the usual minions. Proceed.” Maryann’s back stiffened in her chair, along with her unyielding verbal posture.
Noble obliged. “We still have a few unanswered questions. I’ve asked Deputy Director Ford to proceed, since she has firsthand knowledge of the matters at hand.”
Maryann nodded acceptance toward Max.
“Thank you, Senator.” After the earlier crying jag, Max decided to change her role and play the good cop. “Is Baari in the U.S.?”
“I received a call from him. From where he was calling, I have no idea. It was during that conversation when he gave me the instructions on where to pick up the envelope—after I conceded to his abduction threat. He assured me everything had been prearranged for my protection in the event Simon was captured.”
Max still doubted her story, but moved on. “We’re almost there. Just a few more questions Senator. Why go through the effort of purchasing a used car and not simply rent a car?”
Looking at neither Noble or Max, Maryann continued to stare at herself on the large monitor. “All rental cars have built-in G-P-S systems. I am sure you are aware of that fact. It would be like painting a bull’s-eye on my back.”
“Did Simon purchase the car or did someone else?”
“I really don’t know. The registration, keys, and an address for the used car lot were in the envelope. I was only instructed to pick up the car.”
“Why were your fingerprints found on the glove compartment and on the underside of the latch inside the trunk?”
Maryann’s increased discomfort was evident.
Noble and Max could not decipher whether she was angry with herself or with Simon. One of them had been sloppy when it was time to scrub the car.