The Wolves of Freydis

by J C Ryan

  A long, stunned, silence stretched out across the room.

  Irene opened her mouth, her lips formed words, but no sound came out; she closed it.

  Carter stood, took two paces, turned back and dropped back in his chair.

  Rick was vehemently trying to clean his glasses.

  James was the first one to speak. “This is going to bring the President down. My God, it will bring the government down. It’s like Mount Everest; it makes its own weather.”

  Carter found his voice, “I don’t know much about politics, never cared much for it. But if I understand it correctly, the Vice President is the second most powerful man in the country. He is only one heartbeat away from being the President,” Carter paused for breath. “This man, our Vice President, has been selling top secret information to the Saudi’s and God knows who else, he’s our honorable Vice President, yet he’s responsible for the killing and wounding of scores of people and the abduction of my wife and six-year-old son. And,” he paused, “let me guess; he is untouchable.” He was shaking with fury.

  “That’s about the size of it, Carter,” Dylan nodded.

  Irene looked up and said, “Remember Carter, Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss.”

  “Yes and Judas committed suicide afterward. I have my doubts that we would get so lucky with this bastard,” Carter replied. “Dylan, just give me a sniper rifle; I’ll go and take care of this little problem right now.”

  James held his hand up. “Carter, believe me, your suggestion is very appealing to me, but we need to finish Gordon’s interrogation first. While I’m busy with that, Rick needs to do a voice match on those recordings. We must be beyond sure that the voice we heard indeed belongs to the Vice President.”

  “Dylan also suggested we raid Gordon’s and CRS’ computers tonight and retrieve every scrap of information we can get out hands on,” Sean said.

  James and Irene nodded their agreement.

  “Okay Carter and everyone else, before we scatter, just spare me one more minute for a short lecture on the Constitution,” James said.

  They all stopped and looked at him.

  “The Veep is not entirely beyond reproach. It’s true the President can’t fire him. To throw him out requires a majority vote of the House and a two-thirds majority vote in the Senate; in other words, a shambolic affair. On the other hand, the President can send the vice president home; sort of place him under house arrest, although he would remain the Vice President of the United States.”

  “Sounds pretty befuddling to me,” Carter mumbled.

  “Of course, house arrest is the immediate step the President can take. There is nothing that would prevent his impeachment in the longer term.”

  “Let’s hope he takes the hint from Judas,” Carter grumbled. “I volunteer to send him a clearly marked copy of the Bible as a hint.”

  ***

  James and Irene gathered a few medical necessities and went down to the interrogation room. Irene bandaged Gordon’s knee with a sterile dressing and gave him a shot of morphine. The morphine was just enough to numb the pain but not his senses. There was still a lot to discuss.

  Gordon had plenty of time to rethink his position and enough pain to motivate him to be very keen to share everything he knew with James. By 4:00 am, about an hour before Dylan and Rick returned, James and Gordon’s friendly chat had just ended.

  While Gordon was talking, James had been carefully comparing his version with that of Miller’s. James threw in a few curveballs just to make sure, but Gordon came through with flying colors every time; he and Miller were telling the same story.

  Gordon was able to elaborate on a few facts which Miller didn’t know, reconfirmed that Mackenzie and Liam were still alive but didn’t know where they were kept or who the Vice President’s primary contact in Saudi Arabia was.

  Gordon’s contact list on his phone was a goldmine of information; more than half of his contacts were politicians. Gordon gave James the details and the nature of the involvement of every person on his contact list. Of course, not everyone on that list was corrupt; after all, not all of CRS’ business activities were outside the legal boundaries.

  Irene came back to the room when James indicated he was done, checked the dressings and gave him another shot of morphine which knocked him out shortly after.

  Rick reported that he was able to hack into all of Gordon’s computers and copy all data without having to send an ops team in to physically retrieve the equipment. While he was downloading the data from Gordon’s computers, one of his team members was able to match the Vice President’s voice to the voice on Gordon’s cellphone. Rick also found all of the earlier recordings of Gordon’s business meetings, which had been stored on his computers.

  Dylan had taken a five-man team to the CRS office, and they extracted all the hard drives from the server and computers and had stacked them on the table in the observation room.

  Carter, James, Irene, and Sean had time to discuss and agree on their next move.

  Chapter 55 -

  How did it come to this?

  They were bone tired; for the past 48 hours they had been functioning on very little sleep, fueling their bodies with caffeine, a few sandwiches, and adrenaline. But they all knew sleep was a luxury which they could not afford for at least another 12 hours. By their calculations, they had three hours before the CRS staff would arrive at their offices and raise the alarm. The worry was that the news might reach the Vice President. By now their captives’ families would be putting pressure on the police to find their relatives, and the CanSec staff had no doubt, already raised the alarm when their boss, Stephen Byrne didn’t turn up for work the day before. According to Rick, Miller’s and Gordon’s wives had been phoning every few hours, leaving text and voice messages when the men’s cellphones kept going directly to voicemail. Their messages had started off on a good note but had grown in intensity until finally turning into extreme distress.

  When the phone on William (Bill) Griffin’s bedside table started ringing at 5:00 am he sighed. He was the Director of the CIA, and if that phone rang, it was urgent. If it rang that time of the day, there was a serious crisis. He was about to find out just how severe the crisis was.

  “Bill, it’s James Rhodes. Sorry to wake you up, but we have a crisis that can’t wait. Can we meet at the farm as soon as humanly possible?”

  “That serious, huh?” Bill was already out of bed and on the way to the bathroom. His wife of 45 years knew the drill and was already taking his clothes out and laying them on the bed.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” James replied.

  “I’ll be there in about 40 minutes. Get the coffee machine going. Oh, and make it extra strong I suspect I’m going to need it.”

  “You’re right about that one Bill, this is the mother of all -” James ended his sentence abruptly.

  It was precisely 5:43 am when Bill Griffin stood in the door of the operations room on the farm, the CIA’s top-secret training facility in Virginia. The moment he entered his eyes scanned the room; he’d already met all of them. Carter once, and the rest of them were either working for him or had worked for him before. His gaze returned to Carter. Ancient nuclear weapons – indeed, the mother of all -

  Everyone in the room stood and shook hands with the Director. When they sat down, James handed him a mug of coffee and started.

  “Bill, I’m going to keep this as succinct as possible; I think after you’ve heard what I have to say you’ll want to talk to the President.”

  Bill shook his head, “that bad?” Bringing bad news to the President; what a wonderful way to start the day.

  When James completed the 15-minute narrative covering the events of the last 48 hours, the Director glanced at everyone in the room and back to James.

  “Good God, Jim! The Vice President!” Slowly he shook his head as if he refused to accept what he heard. “Do you know what’s at stake here? Shit man, are you categorically resolutely sure about this?”

&nbs
p; James nodded, pointed to the screen on the wall, and waved at Rick Winslow, “Listen to this.”

  Rick had prepared a few clips of the recordings extracted from Nate Gordon’s computers and cellphone, as well as the records of the interrogations. He pushed the play button on his tablet and turned the sound up.

  Bill didn’t require any electronic equipment to identify the Vice President’s voice. He spoke to the man almost on a daily basis, if not in person then on the phone. He would recognize that voice anywhere.

  Rick had prepared about 30 minutes of audio and video clips, but the Director stopped him after 10 minutes, “You can stop it there. I’m calling Sam to tell him we’re on our way over.”

  Sam’s full name was Samuel Houston Grant, he and Bill had been friends since college. Bill was one of a very few people who called him Sam; everyone else called him Mr. President. As a result of their friendship, Bill was one of the very few people who could meet with the President in his private residence at the White House and based on his position as Director of CIA, he could call the President directly.

  And that is what he was doing at that very moment.

  “Sam, it’s Bill. I know you’re an early riser so I won’t apologize for waking you up.”

  “Yes, I’m awake, Sam; have been for an hour already. What’s up? I’m sure you haven’t called to check on my sleeping habits. Something’s wrong; I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Serious trouble Sam; very serious. You’re going to hate this. I suggest you clear your schedule for the day, and I’m not sure, but you may want to extend that for the next few days after you’re heard me out.”

  “When can I expect you?” The President asked with alarm in his voice.

  “I’m arranging for a helicopter. I’m bringing James Rhodes, Carter Devereux, and Sean Walker with me; we’ll be there in about 45 minutes,” Bill replied.

  “Okay, I’ll get my schedule cleared before you get here,” the President said and leaned back in his chair. His mind started racing. Carter Devereux? The man whose family was killed in that terrorist attack in Jerusalem. The man who is doing research on the existence of ancient nukes. Sean Walker? Executive Advantage, they are only called in when things are about to spin out of control. Does that mean we have a nuclear crisis on our hands?

  The head of the Secret Services got a phone call from the President telling him to expect the Director of the CIA and three others. He advised his agents on-duty of the imminent visit and ordered them to escort the men to the Private Residence immediately upon their arrival.

  The President rose when the door to his private study opened and the agent told him that his guests had arrived. “Show them in please.”

  They all shook hands and the President asked them to take seats. Bill looked at his old friend; the man was under incredible pressure just doing his job. When the President took office more than seven years ago, he’d had shiny dark hair with just a few gray hairs visible on close inspection. Now it would require close examination to find the dark hair, and his best friend was about to make sure those would vanish too.

  Bill cleared his throat and gave the President the condensed version that James gave him earlier.

  Samuel Houston Grant was a strong man; his first names testified to his descent from a long line of brave and illustrious men. He was a Texan, and Texans loved to quote John Gunther: If a man's from Texas, he'll tell you. If he's not, why embarrass him by asking?

  Bill looked at the President. Usually, the man was a force of nature. He had weathered many storms and disasters in his life, the worst of them over the past seven years as the Commander in Chief. Now, though, his friend was in shock.

  The President’s hand was shaking as he tried to pick up the cup of coffee. He hesitated for fear of spilling it and instead brought both hands to his face, pressing his fingers to his forehead as he frowned. “George Robertson -” He breathed softly. “The Vice President of the United States of America; a traitor to his own people.”

  The four men staring at him felt his shock and grief.

  “Sam, we’ll have to move on this immediately,” Bill said.

  The President nodded and stood. He moved over and stopped behind his desk from where he looked at them; it was as if the word PAIN had been etched on his face in big letters.

  “Carter, I am so sorry - that - that a member of my administration has caused…” He stopped and bowed his head in shame for a few seconds.

  “Mr. President, please, there’s no need - you didn’t -”

  The President waved his hand cutting Carter off while he shook his head. “It’s my administration, Carter; the buck stops with me. I’m going to right this wrong to you and your family. By God, if it’s the last thing I do in this office so be it. This is going to end today - even if I have to shoot the bastard myself.”

  He moved around the desk. “Bill, I place you in charge of this operation. I want Carter’s wife and child back, alive, on American soil in 72 hours, if not earlier. If you need weapons, soldiers, warships, planes, bombers, nukes, you just say so. You understand me, Bill? Seventy-two hours, not one minute more -”

  Bill interrupted him. “Sam we don’t even know where they are.”

  “George Robertson knows, and believe you me; he is going to tell us. In fact, I suspect he will want to tell us.”

  Bill nodded silently. Sean and James felt the adrenaline pump starting up, Carter stared around the room; this was a situation he had never experienced, but he felt the intense excitement that electrified the men grab hold of him - 72 hours!

  The President picked up the phone on his desk and pushed a button. “Dan,” he was talking to the Chief of Staff, “please get ahold of the Secretary of State and the Secretary of Defense. Contact the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Attorney General, the Secretary of Homeland Security, and the Director of the FBI, and tell them to meet me in the Situation Room in one hour. I also want you to join us.”

  “I take it you want us to join you as well?” Bill inquired when the President put the phone down.

  “Yes, we’re all going,” The President replied. “Now excuse me for just another minute.”

  Bill and the rest stood to leave the room, thinking the President wanted them to wait outside.

  “Where are you going? Sit. I want you all to hear this,” he grinned.

  The President picked the phone up again and pushed a button. “Please get the Vice President on the line for me right away,” he said.

  A minute later the phone rang, and the President answered, “George, sorry to trouble you so early, but something serious has come up. I need you to get back to DC immediately.” The Vice President was in a hotel in Raleigh, North Carolina, on the campaign trail.

  “Yes, George it’s that serious,” The President rolled his eyes. “Yes George, you could be back in Raleigh in time for your speech tonight,” The President didn’t voice what he really wanted to say. That’s if you still think you can be president of this country after I’ve had a chat with you.

  ***

  While they waited for the Chief of Staff to contact everyone summoned by the President, Bill and James continued to fill the President in on more details and played a few of the audio clips for him.

  By the time everyone had gathered, and the secret service agents held the door open for the President and his entourage to enter the Situation Room, the President was still shaking a little, but not from shock anymore – it was from anger.

  Everyone stood when the President arrived. He nodded for them to sit down, but he remained on his feet. He introduced James, Carter, and Sean as employees of the CIA to everyone who hadn’t met them before.

  After the introductions, the President got right to the point. It took him 20 minutes to lay it all out for them. He deliberately left out any mention of A-Echelon and Executive Advantage and their activities.

  A profound silence followed when he came to the end.

  The Attorney General had the first ques
tion, “Do we have any concrete evidence other than what these gentlemen told you?” She pointed at James, Carter, and Sean.

  The President nodded at James, who opened his tablet, and started playing the sound bites.

  They all listened for about five minutes before the Attorney General waved her hand and said, “That’s good enough for me, sir. What do you want me to do?”

  The President raised his finger slightly, “I’ll tell you shortly, let’s just hear if there are any other questions.” He looked around the room with raised eyebrows.

  “We’re going in to get Dr. Devereux and her son out.” That was a statement of fact, not a question, from the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

  “Yes. And not next week or next month either. I want their feet back on American soil in 72 hours. This might very well be my last act as President, and I don’t care. This atrocity happened on my watch, I’m ashamed, and I am going to rectify it.”

  The Chairman smiled; that’s what he liked about this President. He was a man who never wavered once he had decided to take action. He never acted in haste, but once he made up his mind, he would see it through.

  “No more questions?”

  Everyone shook their heads. There was not much more to say, but a lot to do.

  “Good. Bill Griffin is in charge of this operation. He has only one person to answer to, and that’s me. Every one of you will work with him and give him what he wants when he wants it. Is that clear?” The President waited for everyone to signal their understanding and acceptance.

  “Kate,” he looked at the Attorney General, “you’ve got two hours to get ahold of an expert on the Constitution and advise me what steps I can take against the Vice President. I already know I can’t fire him without the appropriate votes from Congress and the Senate, I also know I can send him home. But none of those are good enough to keep him isolated and incommunicado. We have to come up with something to keep him from contacting anyone. And if you can’t arrive at a legal way to do it let me know. I - never mind. Just let me know.”