“Kane’s here? You’re able to track him, too?”
“Thanks to your face-to-face with him, we got close enough to pin down his location and plant what we needed to track him.”
“You don’t think he might suspect?”
Joe shook his head. “The guy figures he is too untouchable for anyone to get close. What concerns me is that Kane’s here…now. Maybe he’s having second thoughts about the senator.”
“You think they might try to take out a senator? That’d be crazy.”
“I don’t know what they’re thinking. I’d guess he and Summers will have a few words. But if we’re lucky, we might get close enough to listen in on Kane’s conversation.”
“He must be traveling with a security detail. How are the four of us supposed to get close enough for that?”
“We generally never work alone on operations like this.” Joe nodded toward the parked vehicles outside. “Those guys only know that they’re supposed to report to me-no questions asked. I’ve been fortunate enough to marshal resources almost anywhere, even other countries, through contacts I’ve made. That’s what makes this whole thing work. We may not be able to be as direct as Kane-who allegedly works as a consultant for any number of federal agencies-but we have our own contacts, our own networks based on those with like-minded agendas.”
“Protecting the sovereignty of the United States?”
“And other allies of our government. Like Great Britain, Germany, and France. You can’t imagine the pressure on these countries to bend to a world rule. A one-world government mentality.”
Gerrit shook his head. “I’m sorry, Uncle Joe, but I just can’t buy this conspiracy theory. I’ve heard all these wingnuts talking about the Council on Foreign Relations, the Trilateral Commission, and the super-secret Bilderberg Group, organizations supposedly trying to create control and dominance over the rest of the world. As far as I’m concerned, they’re a bunch of idiots. No one is going to let our country take orders from a world government. I think Kane and his people are a bubble off plumb if that is what they think will happen.”
Joe tapped his fingers on the counter next to him. “Gerrit, we don’t have time to go into all this right now. I believe you’re wrong…gravely wrong. I only mentioned these contacts so you might see where the lines are drawn. I can’t force you to believe that there’s a war going on within our own government. That’s something you’ll have to decide for yourself-if we survive. Until then, I’m going to do my best to keep you and the others alive.”
“You seriously believe that what happened to Mom and Dad-to all of us-is connected to efforts by these globalists to control the world? People like Kane?”
Joe stopped tapping his fingers and drew closer to Gerrit. “Not only do I believe it, but I believe you will soon see that I am right. Take a look at what’s happened so far. What do you think motivated Kane-and others like him- to take these chances? Bombings? Murder? Theft of technology? Simply to make a buck?” His uncle shook his head. “It’s much bigger. The stakes are greater. It’s about power and supremacy of a certain ideology. World order. World control.”
Joe stood, gazing down at Gerrit. “Just keep an open mind. At this moment, we need to talk with Summers and find out what Kane’s up to. Let’s get moving.”
Alena and the others were already off the aircraft, standing near the vehicles. Several men in casual clothing leaned against the vehicles, arms folded, looking at Redneck with some interest.
As they emerged from the hangar, Gerrit turned to his uncle. “I wonder what those guys think of our little group. Especially Redneck.”
Joe chuckled. “My Jewish ninja, my California gangster, and my Chicago head-slammer sure do raise eyebrows. Until they need to blend. Then they leave these surveillance guys in the dust.”
Gerrit smirked. “Jewish ninja? Alena? You’ve got to be kidding.”
Joe smiled. “Don’t get her mad, or you’ll find out the hard way.”
As they walked toward the vehicles, Gerrit looked at his uncle. “What’s the game plan?”
Joe walked over to the surveillance vehicles, beckoning to one of the men standing near the black Suburban. The man handed him a briefcase. “Our group takes point. These guys will back us up if needed. Otherwise, I want them to stay out of our way.”
“What do you want me to do?” Gerrit asked, eyeing the strangers.
Joe placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “You are going to be our star tonight. Front and center.” He tossed the briefcase onto the hood of the vehicle and opened it. He reached inside and pulled out a. 9mm Beretta. “Here. I want you to have this in case things go sideways at the house.”
“What do you want me to do? Shoot the senator?”
After closing the briefcase, Joe turned to him. “I want you to stay safe. Use it if you have to. I just want you to walk out of there alive. After everyone gets some rest, we’re going to set up on his house so that you are ready to move tomorrow night when Summers arrives home.”
Senator John Summers felt stress tighten his neck muscles as he entered his two-story brick mansion in Bethesda, Maryland. Home at last. After the chaos and noise of his boisterous day on the Hill, he reveled in the silence that greeted him like a long-lost friend. He sent his limo driver and security detail home for the night.
Checking that the readout on the alarm control box read “Armed,” he made his way to the bar in his den, pouring a stiff Scotch on the rocks to settle his nerves. The press had been hounding him about Marilynn’s death as well as the other deaths in Seattle. They wanted to know whether he was concerned about his own safety, and those newshounds scrambled to wring every morsel of juicy news out of his tragedy. Vultures!
He balanced the drink in one hand as he eased into a leather recliner, yanking on the lever to raise the footrest. He kicked off his shoes and stretched his legs out, flexing aching feet. John placed the drink on the end table next to him, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
“Good evening, Senator. We meet again.” A voice cut across the darkened room.
He shot up, dropping his drink and nearly falling out of the chair just as a light flicked on across the room. John struggled to his feet.
Gerrit O’Rourke sat on the sofa, legs crossed, as if he owned the place.
“How’d you…? You’re alive.”
“Still breathing, Senator. No thanks to you and your friends.”
“Me? My friends? What in Sam Hill are you talking about?” It felt like he was staring at a ghost. “They told me you died.”
“As Mark Twain once said, ‘The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.’”
“I don’t give a rip about Mark Twain. How come they thought you were dead? I mean, Kane told me-”
“Kane lied.” Gerrit rose off the sofa and moved closer to John.
“He told me those Russians killed you…and Marilynn.”
“If they’re Russians, then Kane was the one who hired them. Right now, I don’t know who pulled the trigger. But I do know Kane was behind it. In fact, up until a moment ago, I thought you might have had a hand in it.”
“Me? You think I might have had my own daughter killed? Are you insane?”
Gerrit edged closer. “Then tell me what Kane told you.”
John hesitated as the man drew closer still. John took a step back. “He said the deaths appeared to be connected. That the Russian gangsters retaliated after you killed their boss. Said they’d hit the three of you because of the case you all were working on. I thought…” He fell silent, trying to remember exactly what Kane told him. His face flushed with anger. “That lying son of a-”
“Tell me why Kane seemed to know about the deaths. Think about it, Senator. You do the math.”
John looked at Gerrit for a moment without speaking. “What have I done?” Slowly, John sank back into the chair, head in hands, his voice a tortured whisper. “What have I done?”
Chapter 35
Gerrit didn’t want to lose momentum. Maybe the senator had a heart after all. It was time to make his move while the man seemed vulnerable.
Gerrit crossed the room and made a drink for both of them from the wet bar. He felt the handheld radio under
