The Krakow Klub (41 page)

John directed the president’s attention to
the video screen. “Mr. President, before we leave, I want you to
see this.”

He spoke a
command,
and
the screen
filled
with the image of Carla
Montrose issuing orders to military commanders to transport the
members of government to the Greenbrier for their safety.

Next, there was a scene of the plastic
explosives being planted around the facility.

Finally, the image of Carla Montrose on the
phone to Erik Stoellar was displayed. They were laughing and joking
about the forthcoming deaths of her former colleagues.

John turned to Jim
Slater,
who had been standing silently during the entire
conversation, and said, “Take the president to the residential
quarters and get him some appropriate fresh clothes. In the
meantime, I have to talk to Maxxine and Mister T about
a potential
attack on our island that she just
detected.”

Seeing the alarm on Jim’s face, John added,
“Don’t worry about a thing. I always protect my employees and loved
ones.” He gave Jim a knowing wink and turned his attention back to
the video screen where Mister T had appeared.

Even as the president and Jim Slater were
leaving the room, John was speaking to Mister T. “Have you detected
any unusual activity around Scott Key?”

“Nothing as yet, Boss, but Maxxine just told
me about an order from the president to send a navy ship out here.
I immediately asked her to route all messages concerning that
directly to me. I have received several
already,
and it appears that the Atlantic fleet commander
is sending a CSF, whatever that is, to Scott Key to launch an
invasion of some type. Apparently, they will be in a position to
begin their assault early tomorrow morning.”

“Mister T, if that happens, you must stop
it and, i
f possible, without using lethal
force. I repeat, if you can. If there is any possibility that harm
could come to the island or anyone on it, you are to use whatever
force that is required to stop it, even lethal force if
necessary.”

There! He had done it! It was something that
he had dreaded to do. His decision was painful to make, but it
would be final. If his island
were attacked
,
Mister T would protect it with all possible resources. And those
resources were fearsome.

John regretted that he had to make such a
decision. His Mylean side abhorred violence at all costs, but
today, his human side must be in control at this stage of the game.
He had just ordered the possible deaths of military personnel who
had no choice in where they were going and what they
were
ordered to do. They would simply be following orders
from
higher-ups
that
,
they believed, acted in the best interests of the nation.

He said aloud in the empty control room,
“Krakow Klub, you’d better circle your wagons because I am about to
come after you! And you have never faced anything comparable to my
Mylean legacy.”

John immediately headed to his quarters. It
was time to return to Earth.

On arriving at the living quarters, he said
to Jim, “We are now at war! The Navy has sent a CSF to attack Scott
Key.”

Jim, who was having a brandy, almost dropped
his glass, exclaiming, “My God! John, do you have any idea what CSF
means? It’s a carrier strike force! A CSF could destroy a small
island nation, much less your little sand bar! It includes an
aircraft carrier with a wing of planes, a cruiser, and a couple of
missile-equipped
frigates,
support,
and supply craft and maybe even a submarine.
They even carry tactical nuclear weapons!”

“Relax, Jim. Mister T and I have already
discussed the situation and I’ve given him complete access to all
my resources. Believe me; Scott Key will not come to any harm. I
only feel sorry for the poor souls who are going to attempt an
invasion.”

John continued, “
According
to Maxxine, the CSF will not arrive in the area
of Scott key until early tomorrow morning. We’ll be home by
then,
and I’m hoping that, somehow, we may be
able to
prevent an all-out assault.”

Placing his hand on Jim’s shoulder, John
said, “Let’s both pray that the commander of that CSF is not a
fanatic and uses some restraint. If he attacks in force, all hell
will break loose. Under such an
attack,
my
remote craft will automatically go into self-defense mode and that
means they will destroy the attackers. It would kill me if they had
to destroy the entire CSF. But, Jim, that could happen if they
attack all out in force.”

“John, can they do that? Destroy an entire
CSF! My God, there could be as many as seven to eight thousand
servicemen in that group!”

“Yes, Jim, they can do that! They won’t be
attacking the people, but they will be attacking the machines that
they perceive to be attacking them. Unfortunately, the people
operating those machines will be destroyed as well.

“And I cannot stop them. They
are
there to protect my island.
To
do that, they will have to respond to whatever
confronts
them. Once the island comes under
attack,
the remotes take over. Neither I nor Maxxine will
be able to stop them. If the CSF goes after my island in force,
yes, the remotes protecting it can destroy the entire CSF.”

Jim Slater was
ashen
and
had a horrified look on his
face
. He said, “My
God!”

John mumbled almost inaudibly, “Dear God,
what have I gotten myself into?”

****

The Dragon Lady was livid. She raged
inwardly. For the first time in her
well-controlled
life, she had no clear idea of what to do
next.

She drummed her fingers on the armrest of her
seat.
This turn of events could
spell disaster
for the organization. She had, by now, decided that everyone in the
organization probably had one of those transmitters embedded in
their heads. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to assume that the
devices
were being used
for monitoring their
actions and even their most private conversations. She was enraged
at the
thought,
and her mind raced faster and
faster with the seemingly endless possibilities.

Anyone capable of creating such a device
would surely have other technologies that surpassed anything on
Earth. There was only one logical conclusion: it had to be that
damned
spacecraft,
and the man who had been in
contact with it. Disaster loomed on the
horizon,
and she must have time to come up with a
solution.

Like a wounded animal, she would seek the
shelter of her safest lair. But while she was on the way there, she
would try to save as much of the situation as possible. She picked
up her satellite phone and called Stoellar.

He answered immediately. “Where in the hell
are you? Things are getting out of control all over the place. You
were supposed to locate
Slater,
and you seem
to have failed miserably. I gave you a simple little
assignment,
and you just weren’t up to it. What have you
been doing—getting your nails done while our plan goes up in
smoke?”

She was furious but spoke calmly, “Erik, calm
down. We have problems that are even bigger than you thought. I
have just found out that our communications security has
been breached
.”

She went on to describe the implanted
transponder and of her suspicion that every member of the
organization probably had the same device.
It
was
a crisis of epic proportions.

“As Number One, you must get checked
immediately. As far as I know, there is only one scanner in the
country capable of detecting the device. It’s far too small to be
recognized by most current scanner technology. I’ll arrange for you
to go to Dr. Cheong’s office at once. Call your pilot and have him
rev up the jets. You need to get going. If you hurry
,
the device can be removed later today.”

She thought for a moment, “As for the others,
just contact them and let them know that all forms of communication
are off limits. They are to stay wherever they are until further
notice. No traveling. No going out to restaurants or the theater.
Just make sure that they understand that they are virtually under
house arrest until further notice.”

A plan had been forming in her
mind,
and her confidence was returning. “Number One, I’m
going underground. In fact, I’m already well on my way to my safe
house. You should do the same as soon as your device is removed. We
must not
be further compromised
. By the way,
if any of the others
doesn't
want to obey your
order, just get rid of them as expeditiously as possible.”

She paused for a few moments, and then ended
the call with, “I will contact you later when I get to where I am
going.”

She was now the person in command. Stoellar
would surely obey her orders.

Stoellar was in a cold sweat. His hands shook
uncontrollably. With all his careful and detailed planning, he had
never foreseen such a horrific situation. He was truly frightened.
It took all his efforts to maintain any semblance of control.

He called his pilot and informed him that
they would be flying to the West Coast immediately.

He looked at his watch and calculated that he
would be there and have the device out in less than six hours.
Since it was 2:00 PM at the moment, he could be free of the device
by 8:00 PM.

He composed himself as best he could and
began relaying orders to the other members of the group, even as he
sped towards the airport and his waiting jet.

Another thought occurred to him:
What if
the devices had also been implanted in others who
were involved
in his plot? What about
President Montrose? His military leaders?
The more that he
thought of the possibilities, the more terrified he became. How
could he end this nightmare? What should he do now? He
was becoming paralyzed
with fear.

He poured himself a stiff drink from the bar
in his limousine, downed it, and decided not to inform the
president of the news yet. After all, she couldn’t go to the
bathroom without the Secret Service. He could not take the chance
of compromising her position. Unfortunately, she was still an
essential part of his plan, at least for the moment.

Stoellar was already working on new
plans. But he would share them with only one person, the very
clever Number Eleven. However, at the moment, she was aboard her
jet headed toward Honolulu where it would refuel and then head for
Shanghai.

But first, he had to deal with that damned
little island near Kew West.

And he intended to do just that.

****

Carla Montrose was not alone in the
residential quarters of the White House. The former First Lady was
still in a state of shock due to the death of her husband and
unable to cope with the thought of transitioning to another
residence.

Carla would have loved to toss her out to the
sidewalk,
but Stoellar convinced her that such
a move would inevitably bring on a media storm and untold bad
publicity.
She assented to offering the new widow her
heartfelt sympathy and suggested that she remain in the residential
quarters while Carla would take over the Lincoln Room and a few
other areas for her purposes and those of her staff. It was to be
temporary, just until the transition was completed.

Carla already decided that it would be quite
appropriate to send the grieving widow off to the Greenbrier where
she could receive emotional support from her husband’s cabinet and
friends in the Senate. Yes, indeed, it was a splendid idea. She’d
see to it right after the state funeral, if the Greenbrier was
still there at that time.

She marched through the empty corridor to the
Lincoln room, Secret Service agents surrounding her as usual. As
soon as she reached her quarters, she turned and slammed the door
loudly in their faces. At least she could be alone in her room and
be rid of the pesky entourage that Stoellar had selected for
her.

She had no doubt that the hatred was mutual.
Why else would her code name be, Viper?

She kicked off her outrageously expensive
stilettos, curled up on the sofa with a glass of bourbon, and
switched on the TV.

She exhaled a sigh of satisfaction. At last,
Carla Montrose had achieved her goal of supreme power. With that
power, she wouldn’t have to take orders from anyone. Never again!
She had schemed her way to the top and detested every single time
that she had to ingratiate herself to anyone else, especially
Stoellar. She owed everything to him but along with that accrued
debt had also
come
pure,
unbridled hatred.

She reveled in the thought that she was now,
as president of the United States, arguably the most powerful
person on the planet. Now, no more orders! Never! At least, that’s
what she thought. Just
then,
her secure
satellite phone that connected her to Stoellar announced that he
was on the line. She cursed aloud.

She drained the last drops of bourbon from
her glass before answering.
How she hated him!
Of course
, there were few people that she
didn’t hate. She gnashed her teeth at the thought of talking to
him. She abhorred his condescending manners and tone of voice, even
his slight Eastern European accent. How she would love to wipe that
insipid smile off his face with a swipe of her long, perfectly
manicured nails. Nevertheless, she would have to bide her time.
Eventually, she would find a way to rid herself of his control.
Indeed, she did love to
fantasize
about
dispatching him in some barbaric fashion.