The Land of the Free (22 page)

The previous day in San José

Early in the morning, Lyle and Jess
stopped at the US consulate in San José, where they were furnished with new
passports which Lyle used to obtain a new charge card.  He booked their flights
out of San José and into Miami with a connection to Washington Reagan airport. 
They’d be airborne by nine the following morning.

Having attended to their itinerary,
they walked around San José for much of the morning, stopping for lunch at a
small restaurant across from the National Theater building.  They sat outside
so they could admire the architecture.  “It reminds me of the one in Prague,”
said Jess.  It’s beautiful.  “I can see why Dwight moved down here.  Would you
ever do that?”

“I won’t leave Kingston as long as
dad’s alive.  After that, I guess it will depend on what I have in the way of
family ties of my own.”

“I guess I got there before you.  I
lost my mom years ago and well, you know about my dad.”  For the first time
since they started their trip, her face seemed to show traces of sorrow.

Lyle put his hand on her shoulder,
and said, “I’m sorry Jess.  I’ll be there for you, in whatever way turns out to
be the right one.”

“Thanks Lyle, that means a lot to
me.”

After lunch they walked slowly back
to Dwight’s.  Lyle was about to ring the buzzer when he noticed the gate had
been pried open, the metal around the lock twisted out of shape.  “Keep walking
Jess,” he said.  Looking back over his shoulder, Lyle saw a tall Caucasian man
in a suit and sunglasses step out of Dwight’s house to follow them.  He nudged
Jess to warn her, and they started to run.  They turned a corner and ducked
into a shop before the pursuer managed to make the turn.  They watched
discreetly from the shop window as the man ran past them and farther down the
street.

Once the man was down the street
and out of view, Lyle and Jess ran out of the shop and back in the direction of
Dwight’s house.  But they were not quick enough.  The pursuer turned and saw
them.  Around the next corner they ducked into an alleyway.  The pursuer turned
the corner and seeing them nowhere, realized they had probably hidden.  Weapon
drawn, he walked down the street slowly, peeking between houses.  Waiting in
the alley, Lyle found a sturdy piece of lumber about four feet long.  When the
pursuer’s outstretched gun hand came into view, he swung the wood as hard as he
could.  The pursuer dropped the gun and gripped his arm in pain.  Lyle kicked
him in the groin and for good measure whacked him across the side of the head.
Lyle picked up the gun, then dragged him into the alley before running back to
Dwight’s house.

The door to Dwight’s house was ajar
and the house had been searched.  It was not as much of a mess as Lyle’s office
after the break-in there. 
They’re looking for people, not papers
,
thought Lyle to himself.  He then rounded the corner to the kitchen and
gasped.  Dwight was lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood, with his
throat slit open.  Jess started to tremble, and tears coursed down her cheeks. 
Lyle ran to the wood box in the corner of the room, took Dwight’s gun and ammo,
then took Jess’ hand and led her out of the house and down the street. 
“There’s nothing we can do for Dwight now,” he said to Jess, putting his hand
on her shoulder. 

They flagged down a cab to get
across town where they took a room at a small Inn and settled in.  Lyle lay
back on his bed, cold and expressionless, except of the glint of moisture in
his eyes.  He looked helplessly at the locked bathroom door, where he could
hear Jess weeping audibly, occasionally throwing up.  It a good half hour
before Jess came out of the bathroom, red around the eyes and looking
completely drained.

Lyle sat up when she came back into
the room.  He wanted to comfort her, but he had little left to give.  At a
loss, he took her hand, and pulled her next to him on the bed.

“We led them to him, and they
killed him to get to us,” said Lyle, his voice quivering.  “Dwight was like a
brother to me when I was younger.  We fell out of touch, but that doesn’t
change how close we were.  It’s hard for me right now.”

Lyle was quiet for about a few
moments, then added, “I guess this is not even equal to what you faced, Jess. 
I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” said Jess.  She
gave him a long embrace and they held each other silently for several minutes.

“How do you think they tracked us
to Dwight’s?” she asked, finally pulling away.

“It wouldn’t be from the
consulate.  We didn’t go back to his house from there.  My guess is they
followed the bus into San José.  When we didn’t return to Contadora, there were
only so many places we could go, so they covered them all.  They were probably
told people matching our description got on the bus, and that was enough.”

“I don’t think getting on that
plane tomorrow would be too smart,” said Jess.

“Yeah,” said Lyle, still not
completely composed.

“Do you remember what Dwight said,
that if he had to flee, he’d take a cruise ship,” said Jess.  “You think he was
serious?”

“I do,” said Lyle.  “There’s safety
in numbers.”

They went on the internet and
booked a cruise from Puerto Limòn to Fort Lauderdale, leaving the following
evening.  The quickest route he could find stopped in Colon, Panama.

“A cruise,” said Jess.  “Until an
hour ago, I felt like we were on an exotic vacation.  But now the thought of a
pleasure cruise feels surreal.  All I feel is grief.”

“Me too,” said Lyle.  “Right now,
it’s just about surviving and doing something with our information.”

It was an old building on the South
bank of the Rhine where the three visitors waited in a lavish sitting room. 
Ornate furniture with velour upholstery, high ceilings with wood carvings and
gold inlays at the tops of walls, and deep pile carpets welcomed the visitors. 
A fresh pot of coffee sat on the table, along with fresh fruit and light
pastries, all served on fine silver and delicately detailed porcelain with
decorative gold plating.  From the windows of the upper-storey room they could
glance north across the Rhine at attractive old buildings with colored
facades.  To the right was a bridge whose architecture spoke of old-world
charm, and in the background were the forested hills of the border between
Switzerland and Germany.  There was enough sun passing through the thin clouds
to bring out the colors in the architecture.  But enjoyment of Basel’s beauty
was not on the agenda today or any day these visitors came.

A large, dark hardwood door at the
end of the room opened, and the porter motioned for the guests to follow.  Once
in the hallway, the porter closed the door behind them and with it vanished any
outside light.  They walked down a dimly lit ornate hallway with carved wood,
dark red hues of paint and gold leaf on many surfaces.

The porter opened the door at the
end of the hallway and showed them into a barren room with dark walls and
overhead spot lights that illuminated only the three armchairs waiting for
them.

Opposite them and barely visible in
the dark were two tables angling away from them towards the center.  Between
the two tables sat a large formal chair on a pedestal, about a foot off the
floor.  This chair was always vacant.  At each of the long tables sat three
men.  A second bank of lights was above the long tables, angled towards the
visitors, making it impossible to discern any features on those sitting at the
tables.

After they sat down there were
several minutes of complete silence.  This was always an awkward time, since
the visitors did not understand its purpose, but they dared not say anything. 
At last, a voice broke the silence.  It came from Councilor One as he was
called here, and he spoke in flawless English but with an amalgam of various
Continental accents.  “We have completed the acquisition of the American
debentures from the People’s Republic of China.  You have done well Mr. Zheng,
to maneuver the Chinese government to divest itself.  As have you Ms.
Morgensen, for steering the actions of the United States to make the Chinese
see no alternative.”

Both Zheng and Morgensen bowed
their heads slightly to acknowledge the praise.  Councilor One spoke again. 
“Those holdings, together with those of several third world countries that
we’ve been able to acquire, when added to our fractional holdings through the
Federal Reserve System, now make us the holders of the majority of the debts of
the United States.  This has satisfied those among us who had expressed
reservations about our legitimacy in moving forward with our operation.  We
have reached unanimous agreement, and are now free to proceed.  On another note
Mr. Ellis, I have learned that the security of your logistical details has been
a little loose.”

Derek Ellis looked like his collar
had just tightened uncomfortably, but recovered his composure quickly. 
“Councilor, what you have learned is correct.  We had some loose ends.  We were
unable to capture the couple who visited San Marcos, but we may have succeeded
in interdicting their flight out of Costa Rica.  On the other item, we captured
two men linked to the original leaks of information that you were informed of. 
But when I learned how certain they were that they had discovered a plot by
China to occupy the United States, I felt they could be more useful to us if I
arranged for their escape.  I did this, and kept up a low level of harassment
to make them believe we were trying to stop them from delivering their message
to Mr. Torres.  This has hardened their determination to do so, and their
advocacy to him will be powerful.  Together with all the other evidence he will
see, this should make Ms. Morgensen’s task so much easier.  We also have a Border
Patrol Agent at Laughlin who will be coached to say basically the same thing.”

“The Council approves of your
creative solution, Mr. Ellis.  You may just have turned a small security
failure into a great propaganda success,” said Councilor One.  “Now please
update us on your status with the logistics of the operation.”

“I can inform the Council that
everything is moving forward according to plan,” said Ellis.  “The containers
are on their way and the ports are ready for their arrival.  San Gustavo is mobilized
and ready to move.  Morningstar stands at the ready.”

“There will be time for Mr. Torres
to contact the Chinese.  Is there any danger of China stopping the operation?”
asked another Councilor, whom Ellis guessed to be Councilor Six.

“None, Councilor,” said Ellis. 
“General Kim has been shown the dossier we have on him.  If it were revealed to
the Chinese government, he would be executed.  He has also been paid
handsomely, with the promise of a lot more when the operation is complete.  I
believe this guarantees his motives will be aligned with ours.  Secondly, it’s
logistically improbable that China will even understand what is happening until
after the first phase is complete, which should be within the first 12 hours.”

“I’d like to add to that Councilor,”
said Zheng.  “The government of China has no idea of the size of force they
have in Mexico or San Marcos.  Any suggestion that it is invading the United
States would be met with utter disbelief.  And if it turns out to be the Torres
administration making that accusation, there will be derision on top of
disbelief.”

“Thank you.  Gentlemen, that is
what I hoped to hear,” said Councilor One.  “Now for you, Ms. Morgensen. 
Please update us on the status of your plans.”

“Councilor, so far everything has been
in order, but I have one element of concern that I will highlight after I
update you.  Homeland Security is prepositioned to shut down the transportation
grid in the United States and prepare the corridor for the forces at San
Gustavo.  Then once the operation starts, Mr. Torres will be presented with
incontrovertible evidence that China is behind it.  I’ll see to it that these
people Mr. Ellis has come across get a chance to see Mr. Torres.  We’ll delay
them just long enough to make sure the information is too late to prevent the
operation’s commencement.  But what concerns me Councilor is Mr. Torres’
probable resistance to launching the counterattack.  The nature of our
objective will be seen by him as disproportionate to the attack.”

“That’s why we need an additional
element to the attack,” replied Councilor Two, to the right of the big chair. 
“Mr. Zheng, is the device ready?”

“Yes Councilor,” replied Zheng. 
“It is ready, in position and waiting for the order.”

“It must be employed with perfect
timing,” said Councilor Two.  “Just as the information of the earlier attacks
is being reported and understood, news of the device should be making its way
back to Mr. Torres, for maximum psychological impact.  You will have to
determine how word will get back and how long it will take in factoring when
the device is to be used.  Ms. Morgensen, you will work together with Mr. Ellis
to determine the perfect time.”

“Certainly, Councilor,” said
Morgensen.

“Are there any other questions or
reservations?” asked Councilor One.

All three guests made gestures to
indicate the negative.  “You have all been loyal servants of the Council, and
your rewards will reflect this.  We are well aware of the gravity of what you
have been asked to do.  If there were another way to proceed, be assured we
would have chosen it.  But it can no longer be ignored that the resource
demands of the United States and China are unsustainable, and so it is
incumbent on us to take corrective action.  The removal of China as an economic
factor will give us some much needed breathing space, while our full control
over America will allow us to implement the final elements of our agenda. 
Henceforth, the Council will decree the laws of the world, and you will be the
leaders in their implementation.  Are you ready to remake the world?”

“Yes, Councilor,” said all three,
essentially in unison.

The door behind them opened and the
porter ushered them back to the sitting room, from which they quickly made
their way back to the airport and the private jets that were waiting for them.