Full Blast

The scheme had been running smoothly until Luke Jacobi had stumbled in on something he would have been better to have left alone. That hadn’t happened. A little ball-fumbling had allowed Jacobi to walk out free and clear. Gardener wanted retrieval before Jacobi passed that ball to someone who might run with it.

A LITTLE WHILE LATER Gardener received a call from McAdam himself.

“If this is about the senator, I already know.”

McAdam grunted his acknowledgment.

“We’re working on it.”

“Rod, I have my own people on it. The matter is well covered.”

“Fine. That wasn’t the main reason I called,” the CIA man said.

“So?”

“My contact at the White House has just confirmed what we talked about yesterday. Time and date as previously suggested.”

“Good news, Rod. And your other reason for calling?”

“They picked up Lane in Chechnya. Word just came through. He’d gone looking for that camp Dushinov is said to have running to train Khariza’s crew. Some local agreed to guide him in, but they were caught. The local ended up near skinned to the bone. Dushinov’s men took Lane. That’s all I know right now.”

“Did Lane pass anything back before he was captured?”

“No. I hadn’t heard from him for a few days. Last report said he had a line on something, but he couldn’t give it a name yet.”

“Can you get anyone else into the area to try to extract Lane?”

“Not likely. Our station man said the locals have shut down. He can’t get anyone to help him after what happened to Lane’s guide. This rebel, Dushinov, has the territory out there pretty well under his heel. The guy has kicked the Russians out of his backyard for Christ’s sake. He’s a scary mother.”

Gardener leaned his head against the backrest of his seat, staring up at the curved ceiling of the cabin.

“Chase, you still there?”

“Just thinking. If we can’t get to Lane, then all we can do is hope he keeps his mouth shut. Call me sentimental, but I hope he dies quick. If he starts to get a loose tongue, it could have repercussions. Rod, I’ll be back at the ranch late tonight. Fly out and we’ll have our talk. The senator will be joining us for the weekend.”

“I already had the same thought about Lane,” McAdam said. “I’ll see what I can do about him. Don’t hold your breath for quick results. Talk to you later.”

Gardener closed the line. He experienced a moment of excitement at McAdam’s confirmation of the earlier news. It meant they were going to have to bring their move forward, but he found that stimulating. The sooner they embarked on their plan, the better. Too much waiting around could allow things to go wrong. He was taunted by the image of the man named Jacobi, one of his former soldiers. A man now on the run because he hadn’t gone along with Gardener’s plan and had then taken it a step further by doing some snooping on Gardener and his people and had actually got them on videotape. Gardener was trying to contain the matter, but the longer Jacobi remained on the loose, the greater the chance he might expose what was about to happen. Having to bring matters forward like this was going to eliminate potential disasters. He called Renelli to update him on the situation.

“Still leaves Jacobi on the loose, General. He could find someone and convince them to look at that damn tape. Word gets out, it would make it impossible for us to go ahead.” Renelli paused. “General, you don’t think those Justice agents have had contact with Jacobi? Maybe he got through to them and it’s why they’ve been doing some checking?”

It gave Gardener a moment’s concern.

“No, I don’t believe so. If Jacobi had told his story and played that tape, we would be locked down by now, wondering what day it was and where we were.”

“If that’s so, General, we’re still clear we need to move fast.”

“I agree. I was giving the problem some thought just before you called. So we can’t afford to leave Jacobi on the loose where he can do anything to harm us. Can we, Renelli?”

Chase Gardener Ranch—Present

GARDENER STOOD, turned away from the view with a certain reluctance and watched the CIA man crossing the floor. McAdam looked like someone carrying the troubles of the world across the shoulders.

“Good trip, Rod?”

“Nice to see we can keep our sense of humor,” McAdam said. There was a slight peevish edge to his words. He pointed to the tumbler in Gardener’s hand. “Mind if I have one of those?”

Gardener gestured to the liquor cabinet.

“Help yourself. The large tumblers are at the back.”

McAdam took him at his word and filled a tall glass. He took a long swallow then topped up his glass before he turned back to Gardener, who had made his way to his big oak desk. McAdam took one of the comfortable leather armchairs facing the desk.

There was a silence until Gardener waved his own tumbler as an opener.

“And?”

“I managed to get word to one of my people in the area. He’s going to try to get a line on Lane. No guarantees. That part of the world is hard to crack. Those Chechens are difficult to deal with. They still operate like the damn Mafia. My guy will do what he can.”

“What about these so-called Justice Department people? Who the hell are they?”

McAdam shrugged. He swallowed some of his drink.

“A shrug hardly impresses me, Rod.”

“What else can I say? Chase, I have trawled every damn database I can access. There isn’t a known intelligence agency in existence I haven’t looked at. These guys are so off the wall it isn’t true.”

“So who are they? Reporters from Sixty Minutes? Come on, Rod, there has to be something about them.”

“Nothing, Chase. If they’re genuine, then they don’t have any recognizable remit.”

“Well, we need to find out. Jesus, Rod, you work for the fucking CIA. You run a covert black-ops section with carte blanche independence. Right now I am not exactly impressed by its competence. I brought you on board because we’ve worked together in the past and you think along the same lines as I do. Rod, wake up. I can’t afford any slip ups. It’s a damn good thing my people have these Justice agents under observation.”

McAdam didn’t even flinch. He swirled the liquid in his glass.

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had Khalli about to stage a comeback in Baghdad. Call the Agency all you want, Chase, but it was me who got you your info on Khalli. I found where he was in hiding. I got to him and delivered him. So get off my back. And don’t think I’m trying to score points, but how’s the search for Sergeant Jacobi coming along?”

Gardener smiled. “Good one, Rod. We’re still looking. He’s been shut out from making contact with anyone. The man is alone with no one to turn to. We’ll get to him. Only a matter of time.”

“Unless he finds someone who’ll listen to him.”

“He isn’t going to find a sympathetic ear in that direction. The word has been circulated. I’m using up favors on Jacobi. Sooner or later, he’s ours.”

“Let’s hope sooner.”

Gardener inclined his head in agreement.

“Rod, your room is made up as usual. Go catch some sleep. You look like you need it. I’ll see you at dinner. The others will be here by then. Plenty of time to talk then.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I could do with some sleep. It’s been a busy few days and flying always knocks me sideways.”

Gardener chuckled to himself as McAdam left the room. The man had only flown in from Langley. Over the past few days Gardener had traveled all the way to Turkey and back, with no more than a few hours’ sleep from start to finish.

Rod McAdam, CIA, was an important part of Gardener’s group. The man had contacts all over. He had undercover people in place across the Middle East. The former Soviet Union. It was hard to put a finger on places where he didn’t have people. His position within the Agency meant that he controlled a large number of operatives and his long standing in black-ops meant much of his control was only known to himself. He was able to intercept and divert, even cancel out information that might point the finger at Gardener and his group. McAdam was an opportunist, tired of his profession and looking for a way out. His tie-up with Gardener meant he would be able to walk away from the Agency with a payoff far in excess of anything the CIA could have provided. The trouble with McAdam was his eternal pessimism. He let himself get wearisome and there were times when Gardener could have allowed himself to lose it with the man. He always checked himself. Bawling McAdam out would prove to be a negative action and Gardener needed the man’s access to information.

“WHEN WE ENTERED into this we all knew what we were doing. It was and still is a regrettable decision. But it has to be done because the current situation demands it.”

Gardener glanced around the room. He saw no evidence of disapproval.

“Andy, how are your people shaping up?” he asked an Air Force major.

“I have over thirty percent of my command behind me. The ones who matter. I realize that still leaves a sizeable group who refuse to join us. I have them confined to the base under guard and I have that locked down until further notice.”

“It’s a pity we have to do that,” Gardener said. “This is still a democracy and those people have their rights. But we’ll just have to ignore those rights until this situation is stabilized. After that they can make their final choices.”

Ralph Justin leaned forward. “A question.”

“Ralph?”

“I understand you are communicating between yourselves. How is it no one is picking up your transmissions? Just remember, I’m a plain old civilian.”

“It’s a good question and deserves an answer,” Gardener said. “Murphy, you want to explain.”

Lieutenant Harlan Murphy, a communications officer from Gardener’s command, nodded.

“We’re using one of the Gardener Global satellites. It’s out of the military loop and anything going via that satellite is on an encrypted secure channel. We use simple phrases to authenticate who we are to one another. No reason for anyone to even break into our transmissions.”

“Haven’t I read somewhere that no form of communication is entirely safe from eavesdroppers? Aren’t there listening devices in orbit?”

Murphy smiled. “Quite correct, Senator. Listening programs are getting even more sophisticated every day. But they are far from fully perfected yet. Even the Echelon system, as good as it is, has a hell of a lot to deal with. The sheer amount of electronic traffic it has to filter is phenomenal. It can’t get everything. And we make certain that all our conversations are limited to a vocabulary that avoids code words or links Echelon might recognize.”

“And does that make us safe?”

“Hopefully for as long as we are going to need to be safe,” Gardener said. “I understand your concern and the logic behind it. To answer your last question, and I believe Murphy will back me on this, we are vulnerable to a degree. But every gamble has its downside. As far as we are concerned, communication between our units is vital. So we take the chance. And don’t worry about Gardener Global. The people running the communications are not going to be a problem.”

“So how ready are we?” the senator asked.

“We have equipment and personnel in place, so we’re ready to go. The first objective will be to detain the President during his trip to Bucklow.”

“Easier for you than trying to deal with him in the White House.”

“Just one of those tricks of fate,” Gardener said. “Out of the blue he sets up this trip to visit the site and talk with the survivors. We couldn’t turn down an opportunity like that.”

“Resistance?” Justin asked. “You must have considered it.”

“Of course. It may be necessary for us to engage in combat with units still loyal to the current administration. Casualties will be regrettable if they refuse to surrender.”

“Killing our own isn’t the best way to engender public sympathy.”

Gardener turned to face the senator.

“Show me an alternative, Ralph, and I’ll use it. If not, I can’t afford to go soft over those who choose to resist. Someone is going to get hurt. Possibly on our side, too, but even though I understand that, I have to accept the losses.”

“What about my fellow government representatives?” Justin asked.

“Same goes for them. They take it on board. If they don’t, they’re against us.”

“Chase, we’re going to need those people.”

“Agreed. I don’t see a major problem. Ralph, you of anyone in this room should understand the way the people on the hill work. They fight with words, not guns. I don’t believe we’ll be facing a bunch of Congressmen armed with M-16s, or at best skeet guns.”

Justin smiled at the image. “Interesting thought, but I’m sure you are right.”

“Ralph, that’s where you will come into your own. You’ve never hidden your opinions about the way the administration has been running the country, or its handling of Iraq since the war. Truth be told, there are enough like-minded on the hill for you to swing the whole damn herd your way. Once we have their backing, we’re on even firmer ground.”

“Sounds wonderful in theory. But we both know it might not run uphill the way we want.”

“Oh, hell, Ralph, you’ll have my people backing you. Don’t forget that. There’ll be a lot of yelling and stamping of feet, but once the dust dies down and they see what we’ve done…”

“Taking control of key installations? Power, water, broadcasting? Your men at the major airports and seaports?”

“We move fast and we move hard. With the top men of the joint military command secured in detention who gives the orders? We do. We deploy and we stand fast. The President is moved out of office and I make my national broadcast. I explain what we’re doing and why. The American public wants something done. Too many of our people are dying out there in Iraq. That needs to stop. They’re tired of the loss of life. The drain on America’s resources. We come out of this with right on our side. Plus our hand on the Iraqi oilfields. Getting control of those would be one hell of a plus in our favor.”

Senator Justin picked up the pot and refilled his coffee cup. He sat back and took time to listen as the tight group of men discussed the upcoming takeover of the American government. He saw the earnest looks on their faces, the calm tone of their voices, and he saw that they were fully committed to what they proposed to do. They viewed their actions as necessary. Something that America needed to stay the most powerful nation on Earth, and they were prepared to stand against the elected government and the President of the United States to carry their project through.

Ralph Justin was with them. He had to be because he walked the same path and held the same reasoning. There was a need to protect their own interests, both political and business.

There was a need to get America back on track, to show that the country still had a grip on sanity in a world that was on the slide. The Iraq situation was one example of good intentions turning sour. The country, far from stepping into the light, had backtracked and was being plagued by insurgent terrorist groups who struck where and when they wanted. By indecision and a lack of consolidation. Razan Khariza was back from the wilderness, engaging in all kinds of subversion. Doing his damnedest to move back into the power position within the country. The actions of Khariza and his group, trawling in sympathizers from all over the place and setting them free to kill and destroy, had all the earmarks of an attempted return to the old ways.

Chase Gardener didn’t want, couldn’t allow, that to happen. His own candidate for the position of Iraq’s leader. Khalli al Basur had to be the one. An immensely popular man throughout Iraq, Basur had been forced to flee for his life when the Hussein regime, worried by his position in the country, tried to have him killed. Basur had survived three assassination attempts before realizing he would achieve nothing if he died. With great reluctance, he’d decided to go into exile and continue his fight away from Iraq.

Basur had years of experience in the oil industry and it was through this that he had met Chase Gardener. The two men had become friends. They had lost contact following Basur’s disappearance from Iraq. Even McAdam had had difficulty locating the man. Basur had done a good job of hiding himself away, unsure of whom he could trust. It had been down to McAdam’s black-ops team to find Basur’s hideaway, taking him to one of McAdam’s own safe bases before McAdam himself had stepped in and delivered Basur to the Gardener ranch, where he had stayed until arrangements were completed to return him to Iraq. Basur would make his return, but as a partner to Gardener rather than the U.S. government.

With the buildup toward war with Iraq and Gardener’s growing disenchantment with the way America was being run, the germ of what was now taking place had been born. Both men, now staunch supporters of each other, almost fell into their alliance. It was created through their individual needs and with an eye to the future. Gardener aware of the benefits of having such a popular, influential man as Basur controlling the country and the Iraqi speculating on the long-term advantages of becoming tied in with a man as powerful and long-sighted as Gardener.

The details of their alliance had been mapped out over long sessions that ran each day and into the night. Gardener’s intention to move on the President had run parallel to establishing Basur as head of Iraq. That in itself was no easy challenge, but once the word had been covertly circulated among Basur’s loyal supporters that he was preparing a comeback, the way opened and unrolled before them like a red carpet.

Always moderate in his views, Basur had wielded unstinting influence among the hierarchy of Iraqi politicians. An overwhelming majority thought as he did, but their views and opinions had been kept hidden during the Hussein tenure, because the former president, aided by his infamous secret police, the Mukhabarat, was always waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting who let slip any such views. Basur had had no illusions concerning his well-being as long as he defied Hussein. His pride wouldn’t allow him to simply stand by and allow Hussein to carry on unchecked. Basur made broadcasts whenever he could, gave speeches and generally made himself an embarrassment to the regime until out of pure frustration the word was passed down that he had to be silenced.

Basur had realized he’d gone too far. His time in Iraq had come to an end. If he wanted to stay alive he would have to put himself into exile, hopefully able to return when the opportunity arose.

Now that opportunity had presented itself. Basur had taken the gamble and returned to Iraq.

Gardener was showing his flag. Determined to make his own stand. He had gathered his people and drawn his battle plan.

The line had been drawn in the sand, and there was no stepping back from it.

Gardener had the military know-how. The ear of like-minded men. He also had a vast conglomerate behind him, a worldwide business empire that had influence in numerous countries. Gardener Global was a powerful weapon in any sense of the word.

Ralph Justin was the political weapon, his knowledge invaluable. Within the Washington corridors of power, he held an enviable position. He could sway opinion with ease. His persuasive skills were what legends were made of. Justin knew he was playing for high stakes this time. The rewards made the risks acceptable.

The CIA had information channels covering the globe. Rod McAdam’s covert team, run virtually as a separate unit within the organization, gave Gardener access to data and locations he would otherwise have been denied. The CIA man, of them all, was less driven by national loyalty and more by what he was going to gain financially. Chase Gardener was aware of that, and he kept a close eye on McAdam while using everything the man had to offer. McAdam’s information about the President’s visit to Bucklow had been a prize worth having.

GARDENER TOOK a phone call from Renelli.

“Those Justice guys are heading for Leverton. They were followed to a private airstrip where they had an executive Beechcraft waiting. Our boys did some checking. The pilot filed a flight plan for Arizona.”

“That pair is nothing but busy,” Gardener said. “You know what to do, Renelli. I don’t want them poking around at the base. Keep them away. If you have to make them get lost, then do it.”

“I’ll set it up, sir.”

“Do it quickly. I’m starting to get disturbed by these men and their nosing into our business.”

“Consider it done.”

Gardener banged down the phone and sat drumming his fingers on the polished top of his desk, trying to keep his mind on matters closer to hand. The soft tread of approaching footsteps made him look up.

Ralph Justin stood a few feet away, an inquisitive expression in his eyes.

“Not bad news, I hope.”

Gardener shook his head. “More of an irritant. That was Renelli. It seems our men from Justice have decided to take a trip to Arizona. They’re starting to annoy me, Ralph.”

“Understandably at this stage. I assume you have the matter in hand?”

“Very much so. Fort Leverton is way out in the middle of nowhere, so we can keep matters out of the news.”

“Isn’t there a town nearby?”

“That’s correct. Leverton. It’s where the base got its name. The town is small. Isolated. No local law. Just a spot on the map. If needed, my people could keep the place closed up. No one in, no one out.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be listening to this, Chase. It sounds distinctly unlawful.”

Gardener grinned, raising his glass. “Hell, Ralph, it damn well should sound unlawful. Do you think I’m about to lose sleep over those damn Justice snoopers?”

The senator didn’t have to even consider his reply. “The thought never crossed my mind, Chase. Not for a second.”

“Taking the President of the United States hostage is going to overshadow anything we do to a couple of government agents.”

“Looking at it from that angle, I have to agree.”

Justin moved away to rejoin the main group, leaving Gardener alone at his desk. It gave him the chance to consider what was coming. Events were about to take place that would, if it all went to plan, change the face of America. Gardener had to accept that it was a massive challenge. A necessary one, because the way things were going now, the U.S.A. was slowly disintegrating. Future generations deserved better, and if they were going to benefit from America’s potential, then getting the country back on track had to be done now. Leaving it would only allow their enemies to gain ground. Once the grip was loosened, it was only too easy for the power to shift. Chase Gardener had too much faith to let that happen. As long as there was the slightest chance he could do something to steer the country back on its righteous road, then he would take it, and to hell with those who didn’t like it.

CHAPTER TWO

Leverton, Arizona

“The base is about five miles farther west,” Jack Grimaldi said, his finger tracing an imaginary line across the map.

He had parked their rented SUV in the parking lot outside a diner beside the highway that ran through Leverton. It was a dusty town perched alongside a dusty road. Mainly timber buildings, with a few built from stone and even a couple of adobe structures, Leverton sat on the Arizona landscape, small and insular. Its location made it that way. On the far side of the town was a straggling tract of houses and a few trailers.

“Let’s go check out the locals and see if they have anything to say about their neighbors,” Schwarz suggested. He pushed open the door, feeling the solid heat rush into the SUV’s air-conditioned comfort. He opened his jacket. “I hate this place already.”

Grimaldi climbed out the other side, using the remote to lock the SUV. He joined Schwarz, and they made their way to the diner. The lot had a number of dusty pickups, a couple of cars and a semi-trailer rig.