The Omega Covenant

by Richard Holcroft

  Four representatives from Congress, defense and finance joined him. They’d driven down from the greater DC area on short notice from Air Force Major General Reid Halperin, former deputy commander of US Forces in Kuwait. Besides Halperin were three other individuals: Senator George Murdoch, Republican from Arizona and Chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee; Ronald Melick, founder of the Pegasus hedge fund; and Marshall Foyt, former head of the National Security Agency.

  Halperin assured the others a security firm with which he’d done business had swept the home and found no evidence of bugs. That set them at ease, and once they helped themselves to an ample choice of crudites and cognac, they took seats on couches and chairs in the ground floor living room to begin their conference.

  Halperin began, “Gentlemen, the third and final phase of Omega is now a go. Those involved in the first two phases of the operation are to be congratulated. History will recognize them as patriots of the highest order “

  The others smiled confidently.

  Halperin continued, “While the first two phases in Hawaii were not as successful as we’d hoped, the attempts on the president’s life cast light on his weak foreign affairs judgment, making him vulnerable in the next election. Law enforcement personnel, mayors, and politicians are scared shitless we’ve been attacked by an Iranian-sponsored terrorist group, exposing our country’s weaknesses. An overwhelming percentage of them believe McHugh should be removed.”

  Foyt said, “With any luck on our part he’d be gone by now. Whether by luck on his part or the alertness of military and civilian personnel, the president escaped two well-planned attempts on his life.”

  “Nevertheless, I’d say things are still going as well as hoped,” Murdoch said, with a confident grin. “The electorate is demanding a 9/11 type response to the smallpox attacks, and I believe they will tolerate at least a moderate curtailment of civil rights in the interests of safety and retribution.”

  Halperin pounded his fist on the table and said, “The few friends we have in the Middle East are as afraid of the mullahs as we are and want the nuclear threat ended, permanently.”

  “Absolutely,” Melick added. “We could have pushed harder for the Israelis or Saudis to strike first, and I have no doubts we could still make that happen, if necessary. Israel, for example, would be willing to go to war with Iran, given the right circumstances and weaponry, and the US would pick up a sizable portion of the tab. But with Omega, we control the course of events without their involvement.”

  “You bet,” Foyt added. “We sure as hell don’t want the Saudis or Israelis and Iranians lobbing nuclear missiles at each other–which is why I’ve supported these actions from the beginning. We get it done right with the populace behind us, impose martial law, and rid the Middle East of a dangerous scourge, all within a relatively short period of time.”

  “Besides,” Roberts said, “I’m very uncomfortable supporting the Saudis for any reason. Let’s not forget they secretly financed terrorists for years, so I don’t trust them one bit to help us now.”

  “Damn straight,” Foyt said. “And we sure as hell don’t need their oil, so forget that excuse.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Senator Murdoch added. “We’re exporting the stuff by the tanker load ourselves, and the Saudis are suffering big time with the price of oil being what it is.”

  “So, gentlemen, I think we’re all in agreement here and pledge to support a new administration. Because of the current president’s foreign policies, his general dismemberment of our military and intelligent apparatus, and erosion of America’s standing in the free world, we give out total support to those behind Omega seeking a nuclear weapon-free Iran.”

  Senator Ross added, “Enough members of the Joint Chiefs are also onboard with this to convince the other members it’s the right thing to do. Similarly with high-ranking officials in Central Intelligence and the president’s own administration.”

  Halperin nodded and shook hands all around. “I believe our efforts will prove a success,” he said. “The populace will rest easy in the comfort and security of having a new and competent president… and the end can’t come soon enough for any of us.”

  49

  St. Regis Hotel and Resort, Princeville

  Janine ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon from the restaurant’s locked cabinet and trays of appetizers from the kitchen. Susan, Tom’s significant other, had flown in from Chicago that afternoon and had joined them for a happy reunion.

  Janine raised her glass in a toast: “To the three bravest people I know: Vicki, Tom, and Michael.”

  Marchetti smiled and made a toast of his own. “And to a woman who saw a wrong and was determined to seek justice.” He paused to take a sip. “Little did she know she’d open a can of worms involving the attempted assassination of the president.”

  The others laughed.

  “And how big and unexpected a compliment the president would pay all of you, speaking directly from the White House,” Vicki added.

  They smiled and dug into the appetizers. It was the first night they’d been together after two weeks of events that had proved considerably more complicated and dangerous than they’d bargained for.

  Vicki had been released from the hospital in Lihue three days earlier. Since then she’d been staying with Marchetti at the St. Regis, where Janine had personally made sure she was well taken care of and nursed back to health.

  There’d been no need to test Marchetti or navy personnel for smallpox since the pathogen hadn’t been released by Commander Kendall. Marchetti and Tom still had statements to make for both the Secret Service and FBI, but the interviews wouldn’t take place until the following afternoon, and they were going to enjoy this evening as best they could.

  “What’d Sergeant Kalani have to say about Silva?” Janine asked.

  “It appears the chief wasn’t as smart as he thought,” Marchetti said. “He didn’t know about a security camera at the marina that picked him up the whole time he was there. His explanation, of course, was that he killed Khadem in self defense, but the video clearly shows it to be as close to a coldblooded killing as you’ll see.”

  “So do we figure Silva was also part of the conspiracy?” Tom asked.

  Marchetti nodded. “Looks like it. My money’s on it, anyway. At the very least, he was getting paid to ignore nefarious goings-on involving Hollingsworth and the others. Hopefully, things will change around here. The governor held a news conference yesterday and pledged to clean up corruption on the island.”

  “People here are so fed up,” Janine said, “I can’t imagine they’ll go easy on him.”

  “And what about this Khadem guy? Who was he?” Vicki asked.

  Marchetti shrugged. “The feds are still trying to find that out, but they know for sure he made a decent living as a professional hitman. Hollingsworth or one of his associates hired him for the sole purpose of getting the president.”

  “And once he’d done that–”

  “Successful or not, he’d be of no further use to them, and they wanted him eliminated–which is exactly what happened.”

  “Shades of Lee Harvey,” Janine added.

  “Yeah,” Tom said. “Killing off participants who can cause trouble is nothing new.”

  “We had a bit of good luck in all of this, too,” Marchetti said. “Which helps. If Hollingsworth had handled the engine failure problem properly and gotten off the ground, he could have gone to Lihue or Honolulu and be in some other country right now enjoying the good life. Instead, he’s in federal custody, trying to post humongous bail in order to see the light of day.”

  “Yeah, I watched that goat rope from a distance,” Tom said. “His best choice would have been to abort the takeoff early on, but then you would’ve gotten him for sure. But since he was dead set on taking off, he most likely pushed power up on the good engine too close to stall speed and didn’t maintain heading with his rudder… rolled over into the dead engine and ended up on his bac
k.”

  Marchetti looked at him in shock. “How do you know so much about aircraft engine-failure?”

  Tom shrugged. “Watching flight instruction videos.”

  Marchetti managed a smile and then turned to Janine. “And what about the rental cars? We did a number on all three of them.”

  “Not to worry. In the overall scheme of things, they’re a minor problem. I’ve already discussed it with our local business leaders and my boss, and we’ve decided what isurance doesn’t cover, the hotel chain and shop owners will... along with your bill.”

  Marchetti nodded, thanking her.

  “I’ve also got some good news about Brad. They haven’t gotten the black box info back from Toyota yet, but one of the county prosecutors has agreed to look at the case again if they find sufficient evidence Brad was murdered–and I expect they will. If the attorney general goes along, they’ll reopen the investigation and bring charges where necessary.”

  Marchetti toasted the foursome. “That is good news. Wouldn’t surprise me if it includes Hollingsworth. But the one I am surprised about is Kendall.”

  “Me, too,” Tom said. “I’ve been in law enforcement thirty years and feel I’ve got a good read on people. But Kendall being involved shocked the hell out of me–naval officer and all. He seemed so normal.”

  Marchetti shook his head. “A lot of people seem normal until you get to know them.”

  “Seriously, I really thought he was being honest with us, until that waitress placed him with Brad at the restaurant.” He looked at Susan and said, “That’s when we knew he was lying.”

  “And when the wheels started turnin’ too,” Marchetti said, as he reached for the crab dip and crackers. “At any rate, his naval career is over. He’ll be tried in a military court, most likely, and I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, assuming they catch him. Last I heard he was still on the loose.”

  “Oh, they’ll catch him,” Tom said.

  “Not if he’s in Bolivia, they won’t.” He paused a moment, then said, “The same with Delfino. Who knows if we’ll ever find out why they shot at us that night.”

  “What about Keith Ryan?” Janine asked. “Is he in trouble over this?”

  Tom shrugged. “Not as far as the Lihue police are concerned, but the FAA may have other ideas. There will be an investigation, for sure.”

  Marchetti said, “Although Agent Henley promised that the bureau would talk to the FAA and make sure Ryan’s license and business were protected. So with having a grateful president and the FBI on our side, I think Keith will be okay.”

  Janine filled glasses all around. “Well, I’m certainly going to miss having you guys around. Life here won’t be the same, that’s for sure.”

  “We’ll miss you, too,” Marchetti said.

  Tom pulled his cell phone from the inside pocket of his jacket and stared at the screen. “It’s Kalani.”

  Marchetti thought it odd Kalani would be calling at that hour but dismissed it as perhaps a change of plans for the next day’s interviews at police headquarters.

  Tom walked to the lobby to return the call while the others continued chatting.

  “I do wonder how Hollingsworth managed to remain under the radar all this time,” Janine said. “I mean, important people flying in and out of the airport, meetings at the Plantation House, experimenting with a deadly virus a few miles from the naval base. You’d think someone would’ve noticed something a long time ago.”

  “The Plantation House in particular. The lab property was different. It was about as secluded and non-descript as you can get.”

  “Yeah, no one would notice or care what went on at that place.”

  Marchetti said, “I’m pushing hard for Kalani and the homicide people to go back and take a look at the first microbiologist’s–Volkov’s–death, also. His fall from a well-marked trail onto the rocks below looks even more suspicious now.”

  “Hell, yes. I’m guessing Volkov knew too much or threatened to go to the feds, and Hollingsworth took care of it.”

  “Now with Silva out of the way,” Marchetti said, “perhaps they’ll do some serious housecleaning of the entire department–maybe solve Brad’s murder and some of the cold cases they’ve got at the same time.”

  They all looked up as Tom returned to the table with a stunned look on his face.

  “What’s up?” Marchetti asked.

  He sat down and took a swig of his beer. “They found Kendall.”

  “Where?”

  “In his garage.”

  “What?” Marchetti was puzzled at first, but then it hit him.

  “Guess the commander had a conscience after all,” Tom said. “Carbon monoxide poisoning.”

  50

  Camp David, MD, July 18th

  Kenneth Wall entered holding a folder and stack of classified messages and shook hands all around. Even on what he hoped would be a non-working weekend, the president called a morning meeting with his closest advisors: Chief of Staff Donald Wright, Director of National Intelligence Walt Giraud, Secretary of State Nancy Glass, and his national security advisor, Kenneth Wall.

  “Have a seat, Ken,” President McHugh said and pointed to a padded leather chair next to a square walnut table. “FBI director Bledsoe won’t make it. He’s meeting with Senator Kraft for an intelligence briefing.”

  Wall nodded and pulled up the chair close to the president’s desk.

  “How’s the shoulder, Mr. President?” he asked.

  “Pretty good. Wish I could say the same about Agent Jenkins. I talked to his doctor at the hospital on Kauai this morning. He’s cautiously optimistic Jenkins will fully recover, for which I’m grateful. If it hadn’t been for him shielding me, I’d be a dead man right now.”

  “Yes, sir. His family is on their way over there now. We’ll make sure Agent Jenkins is recognized for his bravery when he’s up and about.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re a heck of lot tougher than the bastards who tried to get you figured you’d be, Mr. President,” Wall said.

  “Thank you, Ken. I’m a long way from being in the clear, but I’ve got to give credit to others there, too. Once the doctors in Lihue and at the naval station found out what’d happened at the missile launch site, they had isolation facilities ready for me at Tripler Army Medical in Honolulu and planned to Medivac me over there if necessary.”

  “Well, we’re all thrilled you’re back. And whoever was responsible for the attempts on your life will pay. We at NSA believe them to be this Hollingsworth fellow they have in custody, who may have had Saudi backing.”

  “Prime Minister Peretz would like to think so anyway,” McHugh said. He then looked at his chief of staff. “Is everything set for tomorrow’s meeting with Sokolov?”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” Donald Wright said. “The two of you will sign the trade pact in the Oval Office, then appear before the press corps in the Rose Garden immediately thereafter.”

  “Wonderful,” he said.

  Wright continued, “We thought it appropriate to open it up to questions afterward, since there will be reporters from the EU, China, and nearly everywhere else. Sokolov’s defense minister will be with him in case something is unclear.”

  “Well, the terms of the agreement are unambiguous, so I don’t see that as a problem.”

  “I agree. It’ll also be important to project an air of amity and cooperation between the two superpowers, in light of recent accusations from both sides about a new Cold War heating up.”

  “Right,” the president said. He was feeling good after his brush with death on Kauai and felt the pact with Russia would be the crowning achievement of his first three years in office.

  “One more thing, Mr. President. Israeli Prime Minister Peretz has requested an urgent meeting with you and Secretary Glass at the earliest possible date to discuss the recent, what he called, ‘laughable,’ inspection of Iran’s nuclear plants.”

  The president gave him a questioning look.


  “He is quite aware the UN will issue a resolution condemning Israel’s actions should it choose to strike one of Iran’s nuclear facilities. He wants to know if he can count on the US to insist the resolution contain the word ‘regret’ instead of ‘condemn.’”

  President McHugh stared at Secretary Glass, anger swelling in his eyes. “He knows where I stand on that. He can take a flying you know what!”

  Nancy Glass had worked with McHugh long enough that she knew how far she could go in presenting a counter-argument, and they hadn’t yet reached that point. “He said you know where he stands, also. He will not sit back and let Iran murder thousands of Israelis and annihilate his country. In fact, several in the Pentagon initially against the idea of an Israeli first strike have come around to Drechsler’s view and are now pushing for a preemptive strike.”

  McHugh slammed his fist down on the desk, as he often did when getting bad news. “We’ll see if they still feel the same way when Hezbollah jumps into the ensuing war in support of Iran. Paretz seriously underestimates Iran’s ability to retaliate. With Hezbollah in the mix, Israel has no chance.”

  “Unless we step in to help.”

  “Right, and that’s not going to happen–not during my presidency, anyway. If they do strike first, Iran will assume we were complicit in the attack and will retaliate against our bases in the Middle East, at a minimum. Which is another reason why the Israelis need to stand down and hope Iran will abide by the terms of the non-nuclear agreement it signed.”

  She nodded. “Very well, Mr. President,” the secretary said.

  Wright exchanged glances with her as she, Wall, and Giraud briskly left the sun room of the Aspen Lodge.

  Once they’d left, the president turned to his chief of staff. “I know Dr. Braden has mentioned this to you privately, but he wants to check on me again now that I’m back from Hawaii–normal exam stuff, plus check my shoulder. See if we can do that at the White House, rather than at Bethesda.”