| Subject: Waiting...Three & Four |
Author:
Enjoue`
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Date Posted: 07:23:21 03/05/01 Mon
In reply to:
Enjoue`
's message, "Waiting...by Enjoue`" on 07:14:24 03/05/01 Mon
THREE
2:00 a.m. Section was quiet and virtually deserted, except for normal skeleton crews in Comm and medical.
And the small group in the Tower.
Without a long table to accommodate them in a normal briefing setup, they had resorted to perching haphazardly on dining chairs and barstools, roughly facing each other. It was not unlike the informal assemblies during their time at Poole’s compound.
Nikita rolled her head around, trying to relieve some of the tension knotting her shoulders. After a long afternoon with Poole, she and Operations had returned to Section, where they had parted immediately, going respectively to Michael and Madeline. The next morning, Operations had set about arranging this meeting, tonight, safely away from prying eyes and ears.
She wondered in passing how Madeline felt about having the location for her romantic trysts turned into a black-ops briefing room.
“So,” Walter said skeptically, leaning on the polished wood of the bar, “Poole thinks there’s some group out there that’s bumping people off so they can take over the European Central Bank then take over the world?”
Operations raised one eyebrow cynically. “Well, that’s paring it down to the bare bones, Walter, but…yes. Basically that is his theory. He has identified a suspicious pattern of deaths of individuals highly placed in European national banks. Put together with additional intel from...” He paused. “...wherever it is Mr. Poole obtains his intel, it supports the theory that there is a group operating with the long term goal of controlling the European Central Bank, a major step in the economic domination of all of Europe.”
He began to pace restlessly, his words coming more quickly, as if he were thinking aloud.
“We don’t know yet whether this group is affiliated with the German government, or to what degree they have infiltrated any other governments. However, the confluence of escalating deaths and German official power in the European Union at this time, makes it highly probable that the end game benefits the Germans. The world has not forgotten the Aryan Nation. It is highly possible that they have decided the path to power is through economic domination, rather than military. The German government itself has to be suspect, although it could just as likely be a separate group.”
“Oversight?” Michael inquired.
Madeline looked up from studying her quietly folded hands. “This morning, bundled in with several other low-priority feasibility studies, I submitted our proposal that the two most recent deaths be examined as part of a possible larger conspiracy. Within the hour I received prioritizing instructions for all the other proposals I submitted - except these deaths.” She glanced at Operations as she finished the thought. “We have been instructed to discontinue all ongoing observations concerning these deaths and to purge our files of any reference to them as a matter of possible inquiry.”
“So Oversight might be dirty, and now they’re watching us,” Walter noted critically. “Anything we do will have to be covered up.”
Operations responded testily. “Poole warned us that if this matter was as he feared, there was the possibility of infiltration at many levels. He was correct to request a personal meeting with us, not trusting Section communications. It was a risk to let Oversight know we had noticed a pattern in these deaths, but in my opinion, submitting the information to Oversight was in keeping with our normal procedures. Letting it slide unexamined would have been far more suspect. At least now we have an idea of what we may be dealing with.”
“We do?” said Birkoff. He was uneasy about this entire
business, his tension betrayed by a constant jiggling of his leg, which he appeared not to notice.
Operations speared him with an unblinking, lizardlike stare, ignored the bouncing knee, then began to turn in a slow circle to lock eyes hypnotically with each of them in turn. He focused first on Nikita.
“This could be a conspiracy on the scale of nothing we have ever experienced. Poole knows his resources are not adequate to the scope of what he suspects, and frankly I don’t know that ours are.” His eyes moved to Michael.
“Without unhindered use of Section assets we would have to approach this through every back-channel we know, and every opportunistic manipulation of circumstance we can invent.” His gaze traveled next to Walter.
“We could involve no one within Section, trust no one but each other and our oldest and most proven outside contacts. “ Pause. A raised eyebrow. “And I know you all have them.” He looked at Birkoff.
“Communications, research and data management will have to be accomplished in a way that invites not even a whiff of suspicion.” Lastly, he turned his attention to Madeline.
“We would have to maintain the outward appearance of complete normality, keeping our efficiencies where they need to be, making no apparent changes to personnel utilization.”
He stopped speaking then. The room was silent and still, without even the exchange of glances. Operations kept his eyes on Madeline as he gave them all several moments to process. Then he resumed more in a more subdued tone.
“I know that we have as much free reign now as we have ever had within Section. The new members of Oversight have a long learning curve before they will be able to read small signs in the way that made George so formidable. And,” he added, “before they’ll develop personal enmities that will make them more dangerous. But the likelihood of infiltration within our own government makes the game deadly from both sides.”
He crossed his arms and let out a deep breath, looking around the group again and wearing an ill-tempered expression. “I suppose this puts us once again outside the structure of Section One.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “In keeping with that, after you have had time to study the details I suppose I will hear whatever input you have as we proceed.”
Walter reached up and scratched under his bandana, a half smirk on his lips. “Well, anything that makes sense to you and Poole works for me. Besides, you know I kinda like it outside the normal structure.” He winked in Nikita’s direction, clearly pleased with this unexpected return to the arrangement they’d developed while operating within Argus.
Humor died with that small sortie, however. It was apparent to everyone that once again, the stakes were very high. An exchange of glances and nods sufficed to confirm that all were on board with the general scheme.
Madeline noted this, and with her next words moved events along briskly.
“Our best starting point is with the last two dead bank officials. We need to interrogate their killers to establish further points of contact within their organization.” She directed her attention to Nikita.
“The Amsterdam substation is due for its annual review and will serve as your cover with Oversight. You will bring back a man named Geert Vorst. Poole’s intel indicates that he is the killer of the Dutch bank governor.”
“Michael,” she said. His green eyes rested on her, waiting.
“Enzio Nicolosi, likely killer of the Italian bank governor, is presently at the climbing location where the governor died. He is assisting the Italian police in their investigation and they do not suspect him. The Turin substation is also due for its annual evaluation. Walter will send ice climbing equipment with you when you leave tonight.”
* * *
FOUR
Georg Schultheiss finished clearing his desk then paused to survey his office with satisfaction. He had never tired of this privileged, top-floor space in the big white Deutsche Bundesbank building. Out the large windows he could see much of the prosperous downtown area, and just below, ponds with twinkling fountains graced the entrance of the building. Frankfurt was his favorite city in Germany, and he took time on a daily basis to appreciate the opportunity he had to make his living here.
Among the other things he did here.
As he reached to collect his overcoat, a hidden telephone warbled. Schultheiss unlocked his desk and reached far into the top drawer, pulling out a small cell phone. He pressed a button to still its ongoing summons, then answered.
“Ja?”
“Nicolosi and Vorst have disappeared,” said the caller.
Schultheiss slowly pulled out his chair and levered his considerable bulk back into it. The well-worn contours received him comfortably.
“Explain what you mean.” he said coldly.
“Just that,” replied the caller, speaking with anxious rapidity. “They took care of…those matters…for us last week. They reported afterward as planned. Nicolosi was then required to travel to the climbing area with the Italian authorities during their investigation. He never returned. And Vorst…has simply disappeared.”
Schultheiss thought silently for several moments, listening to the nervous breathing on the other end of the line.
“Did you,” the man began, then hesitated. “I mean…would the Committee have perhaps…eliminated them?”
“Of course not,” Schultheiss replied curtly. “I would know of any decision made regarding them.”
“Yes, yes,” the caller said promptly. “Of course you would, I did not mean to imply….” He stopped and drew a deep breath to regroup before going on.
“Shall I make an inquiry with the Italian or Dutch authorities? Should we perhaps consider postponing the Paris meeting?”
“Klaus,” said Schultheiss.
“Yes, Georg?”
“That makes three very stupid questions you have asked me in the space of only a few moments. You are making me late for my dinner.”
Instantly the man began to babble apologies and explanations. Schultheiss tuned him out and pursed his lips in thought for several moments before interrupting the flow.
“Klaus,” said Schultheiss again.
“Yes, Georg?”
“I want you to hang up now. Say nothing to anyone. I will speak with the other Committee members about this matter. If we require you to do anything further I will call you on this line.” He paused to let this sink in. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course,” Klaus replied promptly. “I will wait to hear from you and speak to no one.”
“Good.”
With no further parting niceties, Schultheiss disconnected the call. Immediately, he reacquired a dial tone and punched in from memory a long string of digits. After a series of clicks, the call was answered by a machine. He spoke slowly and clearly.
“We need to meet. Hotel Intercontinental. 9:00 Thursday evening.”
Again he disconnected the call, then sat for a time, looking out as languid dusk began to envelop Frankfurt. Like tiny fireflies, lights twinkled into life here and there as he watched. He smiled.
It really was a most beautiful city.
* * *
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