Address criticisms to [xazqrten@cox.net]
******************************
Friday morning, 11 December 2266:
Susan waited as two commercial passenger jets, one after the other, turned
on to and slowly accelerated down the runway. Susan turned onto the runway and
waited permission to take off. As she waited, she ran her fighter’s engines up
to full power.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“As ready as I can be, I suppose.”
Susan said, “Tower control, this is Ice Queen requesting permission to take
off.”
Susan kicked in the afterburners and stood on the plane’s brakes. Her
passenger felt the nose of the aircraft dip as the added thrust made itself
known.
“Ice Queen you are cleared for take off.”
As she released the brakes, Susan switched in the modified thrust
enhancers. The extra thrust almost drove the fighter’s nose into the tarmac
and the noise level inside the cockpit went up by a factor of ten. Outside the
aircraft, the roar of the engines reverberated from the buildings across the
airport.
Inside the control tower, the engine noise was noticeable when there should
have been none. The supervising controller looked at one of his
contemporaries. “Watch this take off. You won’t see many like it.”
Her passenger felt like she had been punched in the chest as the
acceleration g-forces hit her.
******************************
Standing outside a hangar, the President’s security chief asked, “What is
she doing?”
Anyone within hearing range would have heard Colonel Stout answer, “She’s
giving the ‘President’ the ride of her life. They’ll be doing just under mach
one when she goes wheels up and she’ll climb out at about eleven hundred
kilometers per hour at an angle of ninety degrees to an altitude of about
thirty kilometers. Somewhere in her climb-out, I expect she’ll break the sound
barrier.”
******************************
22 November 2266:
It was 1800 hours and Susan had finished changing clothes in preparation to
going to her quarters. She walked back out to where Jay Kaul and Gary Hill
were discussing the day’s efforts. They seemed to be pleased.
“Well, gents, what’s the verdict?” asked Susan.
“The shooting went quite well,” said Kaul.
“Also, our guest males have decided to sign up for the duration,” offered
Hill.
“Then we’re good to go for the remainder of this project. When will we be
shooting again? I need to know for planning purposes.”
“I’d like to shoot with you and the men next week,” replied Kaul. “Willard
Eckland wants to shoot some scenes for some music videos this week; so, I
think you’re going to be quite busy.”
“Why burn the candle at both ends when you can chop it up and have a whole
bunch of ends?” she queried.
“Think of it this way, Susan. You don’t have time to get bored,” commented
Hill.
“True, but I still have time to miss my husband. Considering that I’m four
months pregnant, we have to get everything you need shot completed as soon as
possible; otherwise, you’ll be filming a balloon before you realize it.”
“Good point,” agreed Kaul. I don’t suppose we can do some shooting on
weeknights, can we?”
“I don’t see why not,” said Susan.
“I’ll let you know after I review what we have in the can. Expect a call
from me some time late tomorrow afternoon,” replied Kaul.
******************************
The week following her acting debut was an extremely busy one for Susan.
She was arguing with Earthforce headquarters about the delaying of the
overhaul of the Ares and the impact that was going to have on her budget and
how the overall Earthforce appropriations would be negatively affected;
shooting music video material in the evening; doing very early morning
physical workouts; still managing to run her commands and prepare for the
eventual overhaul of her department. It was only taking an average of twenty
hours a day. She suffered the schedule, because she knew she had a very
limited time to get her parts in the commercials and music videos finished.
She was also looking forward to the time she would be spending with her
husband as she conducted inspections of her outlying facilities.
******************************
0900 hours, Monday, 30 November 2266:
Susan listened as Brad Gordon spoke about an appearance contract with the
producers of the music-video channel program “Upcoming Stars”.
“The long and short of it Susan is they want to interview you and have you
lip-sync to three of your recordings. They balk at the idea of you having the
final say about what part of the interview actually airs. They nixed the use
of your band, too.”
“Can you explain why I would want to appear on this program? It surely
can’t be for the money and from what Willard Eckland tells me the sales of my
recordings are doing just fine. I don’t care one way or the other about the
exposure it affords.”
“Truthfully, you really don’t need to do this appearance. On another
subject, I have a contract with Barry Kelly’s people that I think you will
like. He not only wants you to be on his show, he wants you to be a solo
guest. You and your band get the whole show. I’ll send you an e-mail file of
the proposed contract. It accepts all of your conditions. This is one exposure
that you should get. You can sell your music and plug your upcoming book at
the same time.”
“When does he want to do this?”
“Wednesday, next week, December 9.”
“I have a meeting with the Earthforce Appropriations and Oversight
Committee next Tuesday. It’s going to be another full week. Okay. Send me the
file.”
******************************
It was almost lunch when Susan received a call from Pad Justin, a producer
on the music-video channel program “Upcoming Stars”.
“Who are you, Mr. Justin?” asked Susan.
Justin identified himself. “Brad Gordon notified us that you weren’t
interested in making an appearance on our show.”
“I see. Why’re you calling me? You have your reply.”
“He explained what you wanted. We can’t do that.”
“You’re wasting my time, Mister Justin. I have no interest in appearing on
your show. Please, don’t bother me again.”
“You don’t understand. An appearance on our show could boost your present
sales at least fifteen percent.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t need you. I’m not interested in money and I
don’t crave celebrity. I made you an offer. We have nothing else to discuss.
Goodbye.”
******************************
In Pad Justin’s office:
“Can you believe it? She blew me off like a bad piece of lint.”
“Why are you so dead set against letting her do it her way? A real
performance instead of a lip-sync would be good for a change. You have to
consider who she is and what she represents. She’s not going to be coming in
here like a gushing school kid who’s never had anyone notice her before. She’s
a graduate of the school of very hard knocks and she doesn’t need more
notoriety, she already has that in abundance.”
Justin looked at his partner. “If I do it with her, then I’ve set a
precedence. I’m not going to do that.”
“I’ve checked her music/video sales. She doesn’t need an appearance on our
show. Her first effort is already platinum and she has four songs in the top
twenty on three different charts. Hell, Pad, she’s already a success.”
“I don’t care. This’s my pond.”
“Whatever, but I hear she’s doing the ‘The Late Show’ next Wednesday.”
Pad Justin just made a face and did not reply.
******************************
It was 1730 hours and Susan’s secretary had already left for the day. Her
phone rang. When she answered it, Pad Justin was on the other end.
“I told you we have nothing to discuss.”
“We’ll meet your conditions, Mrs. Wayne,” said Justin.
“I told you we have nothing to discuss. You had your chance. Don’t call my
agent or me again. Goodbye.” Susan abruptly hung up on him and immediately
called Brad Gordon.
“What can I do for you, Susan?”
“You may get a call from the weasel, Pad Justin, or one of his people. I’m
no longer interested in appearing on his show.”
“Not a problem. He’s small potatoes anyway.”
“By the way, I read the contract you sent. I like it.”
“I thought you would.”
******************************
Susan looked into the videophone pickup and said, “I hope I’m not
interfering with anything you already have scheduled.”
Dave Eisner looked out of the display. “Not at all, Susan. We can use this
kind of exposure. We’re already making more than our usual fees because of
you. Our share of your music and videos sales is beyond anything we ever
expected to make doing what we do.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You mean you don’t know how sales of your music and videos are
progressing?”
“Not really. Willard Eckland and Brad Gordon told me they were going very
well and that we didn’t need the appearance on ‘Upcoming Stars’.”
“He told me they wanted you to lip-sync and you told them to take a hike.”
“They wanted me to lip-sync and refused to let me sing live using you
fellows for my backup. Screw them. As long as I’m recording and you guys are
available, you will be my band, unless you don’t think I’m paying you enough.”
“We’re getting twenty percent of your earnings for our efforts. That makes
you our golden goose. You’re grossing at least ten credits for every copy of
every collection of songs you distribute. Eckland had us come in and lay down
tracks, so he could sweeten your original recordings and release them
separately from your solo efforts. The collection from your work with us that
first Saturday night has been released as music only and as music videos. The
music only collection has sold nine hundred thousand copies at last count.
That’s almost eleven million credits. Subtract five hundred thousand credits
for production and distribution - Eckland says he hasn’t spent anything on
advertising - that leaves a net of more than ten million credits. The band’s
take is just north of two million credits. Now that’s what I call eggs from a
golden goose.”
Susan was shocked. She had no idea she had earned this much money. Brad
Gordon had neglected to mention that. “The figures you’re quoting are for the
money earned from that one effort?”
“Yep. It doesn’t include the earnings from the video release. Hell, Susan,
the boys and I have our retirements taken care of. Now we can truly do this
for the pure enjoyment of it.”
“I think I need to talk to Brad Gordon. He’ll give you all the particulars
about next weeks appearance on ‘The Barry Kelly Late Show’.”
“Be seeing you for a rehearsal before we go on next week.”
******************************
Susan looked at the image of Brad Gordon and asked, “When were you going to
tell me about the money my music is making?”
“I didn’t think it was important, Susan. We’ve been depositing it in an
account that your attorney set up. I thought they would already have notified
you of the account number.”
“I’m completely in the dark, Brad. Who is our money manager?”
“I elected to use your attorney’s firm. Mr. White said he would see to it
that your earnings were properly invested. Don’t you trust him?”
“Yes, I do. His firm is managing an account set up for me that has more
than seventy five million credits in it, but I don’t have immediate access to
it. They gave me a debit card to use when I need to buy anything.”
Brad Gordon looked shocked. “Seventy five million…”
“Yes. It’s an account set up for me to fight a very large lawsuit. The
lawsuit disappeared and I was left with the account.”
“Call Mr. White. He’ll give you your account number.”
******************************
Susan called her attorney. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the whole
situation. Everyone was treating her like someone who needed to be taken care
of.
“Mr. White, what’s going on with my finances? I’m told your firm has set up
an account to look after my music earnings and what not. I understand you are
also handling the accounting and money management services for my dealings
with Brad Gordon and Willard Eckland. Is that correct?”
“Yes it is, General Wayne. I thought you would want someone trustworthy to
look after your interests. We intend to make sure that you don’t get ripped
off of monies due you, or blindsided because your taxes and other pecuniary
responsibilities aren’t handled properly and in a timely fashion. All of your
finances are available either by using your debit card, of in cash if you need
it in that form.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“The lawsuit money is invested and at last accounting was just short of
eighty million credits. Let me see…here we are. Your music account has fifteen
million credits in it. Your debit account, which also includes your military
pay and allowances, is a bit more than two million credits. If necessary, you
can write a check for two million credits and it won’t bounce. Do you need
more than that?”
“No, Mr. White. That’s more than enough for anything I need. I’m sorry that
I bothered you.”
“General Wayne, we only collect a fee on your profits. The more we make for
you, the more we make for us. We have a great deal of incentive to maximize
your income.”
“Thank you, Mr. White.”
Susan sat back and thought about the figures George White had just given to
her. She had a debit card worth more than two million credits. Remembering
having been required to pay ten credits a week extra for her lodging when she
was XO of Babylon 5, she took the debit card out of her small wallet and
looked at it; all of a sudden, it didn’t seem real.
******************************
Colonel Neil Hammond looked across his desk at his executive officer,
Lieutenant Colonel Fred Massey. “What’s the latest Fred?”
“General Wayne’s security detail has installed extensive monitoring
facilities on the base at Stockton. I’m impressed by their efforts. The
investigation into the Atlanta affair by the Georgia State Bureau of
Investigation ended with an incomplete verdict. All the assassin leads came up
dead ended. All they know for sure is that it was well financed and carried
out by professionals and that’s it. Also, her people have quietly thwarted
three individual efforts on her life. I don’t think she’s even aware of the
attempts.”
“If her people are doing their jobs correctly that’s what you’d expect. Is
there anything else?”
“Yes. General Sanchez’s lapdog, Major Harold Brown, has been observed
meeting with some real nasties.”
“What kind of nasties?”
“These guys are former Earthforce pilots. They’ve all seen quite a bit of
combat. I understand they’re for hire. I’m assuming they hire themselves out
to fly in situations where respectable pilots won’t. I have no idea what those
types of situations might be.”
“Maybe this’ll give you some ideas,” said Hammond, handing Fred an
Earthforce message.
Massey read the message and looked at Hammond. He didn’t say anything for a
full minute. “Jesus Christ, colonel, do you think this means they intend to
try and take out President Luchenko and General Wayne at the same time?”
Hammond shrugged his shoulders and replied, “After Atlanta, what else could
anyone with a functioning brain cell think?”
“What’s our part? Do we preemptively take these guys out?”
“We could, but if we’re reading this wrong, we’ll be guilty of common
murder.”
Massey sat quietly thinking for a full two minutes. “I have an idea. I know
a colonel who runs an intelligence-gathering site. They also monitor
Earthforce communications. Maybe, just maybe, they can get something for us.”
“Do it. We don’t have much time. I’ll have one of our people drop hints to
both General Wayne’s and President Luchenko’s security details.”
******************************
LtCol. Fred Massey looked across the desk at Colonel Bruce Nixon, “I think
you need to call your XO in on this.”
“It seems ludicrous, Fred.”
“I didn’t spend a day getting here to tell you jokes, Bruce.”
“I didn’t mean to infer that you did. Let me call my XO, Major Rufus Kent.
Do you know Rufus?”
“Yeah, I worked with him on a job a few years back. He was our
communications guru then.”
******************************
Rufus Kent entered Nixon’s office, looked around and said, “What in hell
brings you way out here, Fred?”
Massey explained why he was there and what he hoped they could do for him
and Colonel Hammond.
“Brown and Sanchez were responsible for Atlantis? How do you know for
sure?” asked Kent.
“We learned that General Wayne scanned one of the assassination team and
got it from her. We have a man on her security detail. We also have it from
CJCS. Neil says Leftcourt showed him some audio-video recordings that indicate
that Earthforce Intelligence is totally out of control.”
“I suppose you’d like to have your information sometime last week?” asked
Kent.
“Last month would be much better, but right now we’ll take anything you can
round up,” replied Massey. “We don’t have much time. If what we have so far is
accurate, General Wayne will be carrying President Luchenko as a passenger and
she’ll be facing hostile pilots in fighter aircraft, all of whom are combat
hardened veterans - not good, even in the best of circumstances.”
“We’ll be busy on this as soon as I get back to my other office, boss,”
said Kent.
“Off the record, I didn’t think either of you guys cared for President
Luchenko.”
“Fred, this has nothing to do with how we feel personally about her. She’s
the legitimate leader of the Earth Alliance. Until she pulls a Clark, she is
entitled to our fullest support. I once met General Wayne, years ago when she
was a brand new lieutenant junior grade. I liked her then and she has proven
that she hasn’t changed much over the years,” said Kent. “She and Sheridan
headed up the rebellion that deposed Clark, and then they immediately returned
the government to its rightfully elected leaders. That demands respect.”
“There you have it, Fred. Now you know how we feel. If we can find anything
for you, I’ll get it to you ASAP,” added Nixon.
******************************
3 December 2266:
Agent Francis Shaw, President Luchenko’s advance security team security
chief, sat behind her desk and read the report that had been delivered to her.
It was an anonymous delivery. She read it twice and studied the included
photographs, then she watched some videos included on a data crystal.
She wondered why the materials had been delivered to her instead of to her
superior, but didn’t have a clue. She called her assistant to discuss it with
him. He had an odd way of looking at things and might be able to offer a
twisted evaluation of the situation.
******************************
Shaw looked across her desk at Gregor Horowitz, her assistant, as he read
the report for the third time and examined the photographs for a second time,
and watched the videos.
“Well, what do you think?”
“Are you sure you really want to know?”
“Of course. I need your warped insight.”
Horowitz appeared thoughtful and remained silent for a full minute. “You
received this sealed in a plain manila envelope?”
“Yes. My secretary said she had received it only a minute before she
delivered it to me.”
“I suggest you tell no one about this.”
“Why not?”
“In the first place, your superior will immediately get Earthforce
Intelligence involved.”
“So what?”
“You were at General Wayne’s change of command. What happened at that event
that might have seemed odd?”
Shaw thought about it, but couldn’t remember anything that stood out. “I
didn’t see anything. Why?”
“President Luchenko and some others accompanied Wayne on a visit to her
whitestar, the one assigned here for her use by the IA.”
“What about them?”
“If you can, pull up the news video of the event. Considering that all the
news outlets had reporters there and most of them shot a lot of video, there
must be some shots of them boarding Wayne’s shuttle and some of them getting
off.”
Intrigued, Shaw started punching commands into her computer. It took almost
five minutes of searching to locate video footage of the events her assistant
mentioned.
After viewing the images he indicated to her, she looked at him, and
asked, “Exactly what am I supposed to get from this?”
“Who got on the shuttle, but didn’t get off of it, after it returned?”
Shaw looked again and realized that she had completely ignored a man who
looked like he had been ridden hard, wrung out, and hung up wet, for lack of a
better description.
“The fellow that looks like he’s been on a three day drunk. He got on, but
he didn’t get off. What’s so special about him?”
“He’s General Wayne’s husband. He’d been working with General Sanchez’s
people until recently. Why would she essentially stash him aboard a whitestar –
her whitestar? Did she have some reason to believe he would be in danger on
Earth? If so, why and from whom?”
“Valid questions, but I still don’t see your point.”
“Remember what transpired in Atlanta, Georgia a while back, at that
courthouse?”
“You mean the shootout?”
“Yes. Do you know anything about it?”
“Only what I read in the newspapers and saw on the news channels. I believe
there were twelve of them and they were all killed. I seem to remember that
there were three secret service agents killed. Some of our people who were
assigned to General Wayne’s detail, if I remember correctly.”
“You do. I managed to get a copy of all the police reports and some
information that wasn’t included in them, but was available from the cops who
were involved. There was a report that was generated, but it has since
disappeared; however, you know me, ever the conspiracy fanatic, I managed to
get one before it got lost. I’ll get it for you. I think you’ll find it most
interesting.”
******************************
It had taken Horowitz five minutes to retrieve the copy of the report. In
the interim, Shaw had ordered coffee for the two of them.
“Read this, then look over the material that you received a few minutes
ago.”
Shaw sipped coffee and read the report. It was twenty pages long. It had
much more detail than any of the other sources of information she had been
watching.
“General Wayne was responsible for evacuating the courthouse and calling in
the SWAT unit.”
“Yeah, and she had to threaten the police to get any response from them –
but that’s not the important data. Note how the assassin’s were outfitted;
read their backgrounds. That level of talent is damned expensive. Their gear
must have cost a small fortune. Ask yourself, who would or could field a team
of this talent with this equipment; better question is why? What can be so
damned important about General Wayne that someone would expend this effort to
take her out? And last, but not least, who would authorize the slaughter of
maybe several hundred innocent civilians in order to hide the real target of
the assassination? There is a separate police report concerning the discovery
of two dead snipers on a building overlooking the airport where General
Wayne’s shuttle was waiting. Was that incident connected with the incident at
the courthouse?”
Shaw didn’t respond. Instead, she read the material and marked it up using
a red fine-point pen and yellow hi-lighter marker. Then she began to read one
and refer to the other. Five minutes later she looked at her assistant.
“I don’t like where this points.”
“Neither do I, but you have to go where the data leads.”
“I think I need to talk with General Wayne and her security people.”
“I wouldn’t use the telephone or any other means that can be monitored.”
******************************
It only took Agent Shaw a few minutes to schedule a meeting with Susan. It
would take place after she was finished with the Senate/House Military
Financial Oversight Committee.
******************************
Susan, followed by Secretary of Defense Egan, stepped out of the limousine
that had been provided by the JCS for transporting her from her shuttle’s
landing pad to the main legislature meeting building. She felt odd not
carrying her own briefcase, but a junior officer had been provided for the
task and he had his hands full. CJCS was attempting to make her come to terms
with her position as a very important high-ranking flag officer. It chaffed
her no end. The bodyguards and security detail they had assigned for her
appearance just outright pissed her off. She made a mental note to let General
Leftcourt and company know just that, in no uncertain terms, when this show
was over.
“You don’t looked pleased,” said Egan.
Susan gave him a withering look in reply. She hadn’t said anything during
the ride from the landing pad. She had a scowl on her face that didn’t invite
conversation. Egan wished he were someplace else, pretty much anyplace else
except here.
“Mr. Egan, please be a good high-level bureaucrat and go entertain that
throng of reporters,” requested Susan.
Twitching his nose, Egan replied, “In other words, go make myself useful.
I’ll get right on it.”
Susan’s hatred of news reporters was a well-known reality. She didn’t grant
interviews, and she was as likely as not to shred any reporter that tried to
be less than straight up with her. Those who had experienced her wrath didn’t
want a replay.
Secretary Egan moved to intercept the reporters and keep them occupied. The
diversion worked. Susan took the large briefcase that was giving the young
second lieutenant a fit because of its weight. She almost ran up the steps
taking them quickly two at a time. The bodyguards had to run to get ahead of
her.
A few reporters moved to intercept her, but they were kept at bay by the
bodyguards.
******************************
Susan sat beside Egan; both had microphones arrayed in front of them. She
looked at each of the members of the committee, taking the time to familiarize
herself with their faces and match up the face to the data she had been
provided on each of them. Senator Harold Mathers was chairman of the group.
“Good morning, General Wayne. The purpose of your appearance here is to
discuss the present budget of your command. I see after looking over the data
kits provided by you that you appear to have a handle on your various junior
commands in spite of the short time you have been on the job.”
Susan remained silent.
“Unless you have a statement to make, I’m going to open the floor for
questions from the committee members.”
“Only one small request, Senator Mathers. I would appreciate it if members
of the committee limit their questions to the budget and the expenditures of
the various commands and their components.”
“Fair enough, General Wayne.” Mathers wondered how long it would take for
one of the committee members to stray off subject looking for a fast sound
bite. “Ladies and gentlemen, the floor is open for questions. I say again,
please limit yourselves to the areas set forth in General Wayne’s request.”
“With all due respect, Senator Mathers, I have a few questions of my own
for the committee members that may enhance our efforts today.”
“By all means, General Wayne.” [Here it comes.]
“If I may have a show of hands, please. Senator Mathers, I know you have a
bachelor’s degree in both accounting and economics and that you worked
slinging ‘burgers to help in paying your way through college; so, my questions
are aimed at the remaining committee members.”
[I was right,] he thought.
“How many of you has ever had a course in either economics or accounting? A
show of hands please?”
She wasn’t surprised that only four members of the sixteen-member panel
raised their hands.
“How many of you have ever had to meet a payroll for a business of any kind
and meet a budget for that business?”
Only Mathers raised his hand for the second question. It was as Susan
expected, these people were sitting in judgment of something about which they
were ignorant.
“Why the questions, General Wayne?” asked Congresswoman Bates, the
representative from Stockton, California, district.
“I need to know at what level to answer the questions I’m going to be
asked. The less you people know about budgets and payrolls, the simpler I have
to make my answers. If all of you were business operators, my answers would be
very easy; however, that’s not the case. Is it?”
Mathers laughed inside. She already nailed someone and the real questioning
hadn’t even started yet.
Bates twitched her nose, but didn’t reply. She realized that, after her
meeting in Susan’s office in Stockton, she had drawn a very erroneous
conclusion about the woman. What’s worse, the media were recording the whole
affair for later broadcast. Several were even broadcasting it live.
“General Wayne, if I may, in reviewing your handout material, I note that
the man-year costs for a number of the installations listed seem to vary quite
widely from what appears to be a norm. Can you explain why?”
“Congressman Hanks, I asked the same question when I first viewed these
figures. I believe they may be reflecting the hidden operational costs of
Earthforce Intelligence. I won’t be able to say that for sure until my people
have a chance to do a closer investigation of said installations. I feel this
is something that merits a closed-door session for security considerations.
Mr. Chairman is that a possibility?”
Mathers had been wondering the same thing as Congressman Hanks and he was
in agreement with Susan as to why the differences existed. “We can discuss
that after we finish here, General Wayne.”
Mathers looked at his colleagues and said, “Surely there are more
questions.”
“General Wayne, you were the defendant in a lawsuit earlier this year. Is
that not true?” asked Congressman Mason Wills.
Susan didn’t respond.
“General! I asked you a question! I want a response!” insisted Wills
forcefully.
“People in hell want ice water, too, congressman, but they don’t get it.
Your question is out of line.”
“You don’t decide what is an appropriate question, General Wayne.”
“I already have and the committee chairman has agreed with me.”
Wills couldn’t believe the response he heard. “Maybe you would like to be
investigated, General Wayne.”
Susan smiled and directed her comment to Mathers. “I want to request that
each member of the legislature decide, anonymously of course, which three of
the listed installations should be closed and submit reasons why. You don’t
have to worry about numbers four, fifteen and twenty-one.”
Mathers considered Susan’s request. “I assume this is for evaluation
purposes only?”
“Yes, sir. I want opinions without having anyone feel he or she is being
blindsided. I don’t want to be able to identify who makes what
recommendations.”
Wills interrupted by blurting out, “Those bases are in my district!”
“To be accurate, congressman, only one is actually in your district. The
other two are in bordering districts. I wouldn’t want you to think there is
anything personal in any of my deliberations.”
“Secretary Egan, do you support her?” inquired Wills.
“It’s her command and she has her marching orders from President Luchenko.
Yes, I support her,” replied Egan.
“Any other questions?” asked Mathers.
“No questions, but I wonder if we might retire to a more controlled setting
and discuss the intelligence issues?” asked Hanks.
“Before we finish here, Senator Mathers, I’d like to discuss a number of
things in my department’s present budget and offer some insights into the
color coding of the various commands listed in the handouts. I think some
further explanation is in order, even if your panel doesn’t have anymore
specific questions.”
“The floor’s yours, General Wayne,” replied Mathers.
******************************
It was late afternoon when Susan finished with the classified meeting with
the Senate/House Military Financial Oversight Committee. She was satisfied
with the proceedings. She expressed as much to Secretary Egan. Senator Mathers
indicated he wanted a final word with her.
“What can I do for you, senator?”
“You aren’t registered with any political party. Why?”
“I vote for whom I believe is best suited for the job, not any given
political entity.”
“You could be a real influence in the next round of elections.”
“You already know that I have no political aspirations.”
“True enough, but you have five qualities that can scare the crap out of a
politician. You are independent, very intelligent, very well informed, have
nothing at stake, and you have more loose money than god himself. You could
finance your own campaign if you felt so inclined. You can also bring money
and influence to bear on anyone who irritates you.”
“It’s not worth the effort, Senator Mathers.”
“You put Wills in his place. Are you really going to close those
installations?”
“I believe I said that they didn’t need to be worried about. The good
congressman assumed that I meant I would close them. I think it says more
about him than it does about me.”
Mathers thought about it and realized she was correct. She had never in any
way indicated that any decision had been made to close the installations in
question. “Now that I think about it, you, of course, are correct. Very
sneaky, while being absolutely straightforward. You bear watching, General
Wayne. That’s how you won your way in getting what you wanted when the Ares
was being constructed.”
“Incorrect, Senator Mathers. I never won anything. I prevailed. The winners
are the citizens of the Earth Alliance, especially the Mars Colonies, and the
people who won’t be killed by the assets I destroyed when we took out the
Drakh space station. There are millions of winners, but I’m not one of them.
You and all the people who were trapped on the Ares when I took her into
combat at Mars are the winners. You won your lives. All I did was point her at
the enemy and turn her crew loose on them.”
“You don’t care about power. You aren’t afraid of what people think of you.
You surely don’t fear death. You don’t seem to care about material wealth or
what it can buy. Those qualities make you extremely dangerous to people who do
hold those things sacrosanct.”
“You mean that I scare the hell out of politicians of all parties.”
“Yes.”
“I can live with that.”
Susan looked around and then said, “I have an appointment of sorts with one
of President Luchenko’s security agents, gents; so, if you’ll excuse me.”
Susan walked away without looking back.
“I’m glad she works for you, Secretary Egan. It means I don’t have to deal
with her except on odd occasions.”
“She makes my life easier,” said Egan. “You always know where she is coming
from.”
“Very true. Now, let’s go entertain the media. They expect it,” said
Mathers.
******************************
Susan looked across the bare desk at Agent Francis Shaw. “It’s your credit
chip, Agent Shaw.”
“Who are the goon squad?”
“CJCS forced me to accept bodyguards while I’m here. Why do you want to see
me? Am I correct in assuming it has something to do with President Luchenko’s
joy ride with me?”
“I’m not sure I’d call it a joy ride, but, yes; it concerns her safety
during that evolution.”
“You have my undivided attention.”
“Let me show you some videos and pictures, then we’ll talk security.”
Shaw showed Susan the videos that been sent to her anonymously and then
showed her pictures with short biographies attached. She waited quietly as
Susan looked at the pictures and read the attached data.
“The little weasel son of a bitch. I’ll kill him just on general
principles.”
Susan pushed the picture of Major Brown across the desk to Shaw. “He’s the
little bastard responsible for the Atlanta situation.”
“Atlanta situation?”
“Couple of months back, there was a shootout at a courthouse in Atlanta,
Georgia. Three dead agents, some of your people I believe, and an even dozen
dead assassins. It was on all the news channels.”
“Yes. I remember.”
“According to what I pulled from the mind of one of those people, he was
the brain behind it. Nothing that I can give the police, because it’s
inadmissible, since she’s dead.”
“That makes the obvious conclusion unavoidable.”
“He and his band of cutthroats intend to take us out while we’re down at
the TGS. If I have to carry the President with me, I may not survive their
attack. Alone, I can guarantee that I’ll kill every one of them. His seasoned
pilots only think they know what real combat is. I’ve only been playing with
the TGS students. It’s all make-believe.”
“I’m going to have to insist on having escort fighters accompany you while
the President is with you. You will also have to carry a full load of air-to-
air missiles.”
“Wrong, Agent Shaw. No escorts and no missiles. All I’m going to need is
the cannon that’s installed in my aircraft. Your escorts will only get in my
way and get us all killed. If Major Brown gets wind of any of this, they won’t
show. He’s a coward and needs to be sure he can’t possibly fail. He’s
qualified to fly a F-350. He’ll want to be in on the kill. Besides, the G-
forces that I’m going to have to pull will kill the President. They will kill
or cripple almost anyone else dumb enough to fly with me. Just ask any doctor
what making ten-gravity turns will do to you.”
“The escorts and the missile load-out is not negotiable, General Wayne.”
“Then someone else will be flying the President down to the TGS. I don’t
care who you are or your position; you don’t tell me how to fight a battle. If
you have a problem, I have a suggestion.” At this point, Susan tossed a one-
credit coin onto the desktop. “Call someone who cares. Good day, Agent Shaw.”
As Susan strode out of the room, Agent Shaw fumed, then picked up the phone
and made a call. She didn’t like the answer she received to her complaint.
******************************
It took Agent Shaw the remainder of the afternoon, but she finally managed
to see the President’s CoS and explained that there was a real threat
concerning the planned trip to Stockton, California. The CoS made it possible
for her to speak directly to President Luchenko.
It only took a few minutes for Shaw to explain the threat and about her
meeting with Susan.
President Luchenko’s CoS listened then said, “I agree with General Wayne’s
point of view. If you don’t go, Major Brown and his crew will know something’s
wrong.”
“I have a plan,” said Luchenko. “It’ll make it appear that everything’s
going as planned, but it won’t put me in any danger. Agent Shaw, how would you
like to take a ride Friday?”
******************************
It was late and Susan was about to turn in for the night. Tomorrow night
was her appearance on “The Late Show” and she had spent the evening rehearsing
some new material with her band. Just as she sat down on the edge of her bed,
the telephone rang. It was Agent Shaw.
“Do you know what time it is here, Agent Shaw?”
“Yes, sir. I’m in an airplane somewhere over the east coast of the North
American continent at present. I need to meet with you for planning purposes.”
“What, exactly, are you planning?” Susan asked irritated.
“It concerns our conversation of earlier today.”
“What time do you arrive? I’ll send a car to take you to the BOQ.”
“0300 hours, your time.”
“Goodnight, Agent Shaw.”
Susan hung up and then dialed the BOQ.
******************************
Agent Shaw looked at Susan. “What do you think?”
“It’s a plan. I don’t see any reason it shouldn’t work, but it only trades
you for President Luchenko. The G-forces we are likely to encounter will
probably kill you.”
“I’m expendable, General Wayne.”
“I don’t share that evaluation of your worth. You have a make-up artist
coming to make you up; so, you can pass muster as President Luchenko in a
flight suit, if you aren’t scrutinized too closely.”
“Yes, sir. As you said, it’s a plan.”
“If they can make you up to pass as the President, then they should be able
to do it to anyone who is about her size.”
“I suppose so. What do you have in mind?”
Instead of answering, Susan called Colonel Stout. “Colonel Stout, I need to
know which of your female students have the highest G-force tolerance. I need
it yesterday.”
“I’ll get back to you in a few minutes, General Wayne,” replied the image
of Stout.
“I intend to use one of our female students, instead of you, as the
President Luchenko pretender. Whoever is chosen will know what they’re facing
and also be trained in dealing with it.”
Fifteen minutes later, Colonel Stout called and gave Susan the names of
four female students. Two of these were almost the same size as President
Luchenko.
“We have two candidates, Agent Shaw. Let’s see if either of them is game.”
******************************
Susan and Agent Shaw were standing in Colonel Stout’s coffee mess when the
two young women were ushered in.
“Explain what you need, Agent Shaw.”
“I need one of you to impersonate President Luchenko Friday morning. It
involves flying with General Wayne. It could be very dangerous, even life
threatening. I’d like to have a volunteer…”
Both women raised their hands before Agent Shaw could finish her statement.
Susan pulled a coin out of her pocket. “Which one of you wants to call it?”
Second Lieutenant Beth Jefferies said, “Helen. You do the honors.”
Susan flipped the coin. “Call it, Lieutenant Loal.”
“Heads,” replied Loal.
The coin landed on the floor with the tail side up.
Loal shook hands with Jefferies. “Good luck, Beth.”
“Lieutenant Loal, maybe next time you’ll get the chance,” said Susan.
“Yes, sir.”
“Ms. Jefferies, if you’ll follow General Wayne and me,” said Agent Shaw.
******************************
Sitting in a gazebo located near her headquarters building, Susan
thoroughly explained what might happen on the flight down to the TGS.
“According to the tests, sir, I can take ten seconds of ten-gravity G-
force. I understand that only you can take more G-forces than I can, at least
out of the people who have been tested here during the last six years.”
“We’ll hope for the best, and make damned sure we’re prepared for the
worst, Lieutenant Jefferies. You may return to class, but do not discuss this
with anyone. We’ll suit up at 0630 hours Friday morning.”
Jefferies stood up and saluted Susan. Susan returned the salute and
dismissed Jefferies.
“Where do you get them from, General Wayne?”
“From the youngsters coming out of high school and college. Believe it or
not, Agent Shaw, the vast majority of our young people are what virtually
every parent wants their child to be. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get a lot
of preparatory work done before the Friday morning flight. I also have to
begin getting ready for my appearance on ‘The Barry Kelly Late Show’.”
******************************
It was just after noon when Susan arrived at the Television studio to do
sound checks and rehearse with her band. The audience would start entering the
studio at 1630 hours; so, she and the band had just three hours to get their
act together.
They had been rehearsing for just over and hour when Barry Kelly walked
into the studio where they were rehearsing.
“You guys are very good,” said Kelly.
“We try, Mr. Kelly,” replied Susan.
Kelly looked Susan over carefully. Based on his own feelings, he came to
the conclusion that she had an intimidating presence.
“I hope I’m not a disappointment?”
“Never, General Wayne. You do have an intimidating presence.”
“Boys, do you find me intimidating?”
They all answered yes.
Susan turned to face them. “Really? What‘ve I done to make you feel like
that?”
“It’s nothing you’ve done to us, Susan. It’s who and what you are,” replied
her bandleader.
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
“I’ve decided to change the show’s format for tonight, General Wayne. I’m
foregoing the monologue and we’re losing the commercial breaks. It’s going to
be an hour and a half of you and your band. I’m having the extra musicians you
requested brought in. They should be here in less than a half hour. I hope
that gives you enough time to rehearse with them.”
“It’ll do,” replied Susan.
Kelly left the area to give his band the night off and let his writers
leave early. He would use today’s jokes tomorrow. He also wanted to talk with
his bosses.
******************************
The additional musicians arrived and shortly began rehearsing with Susan
and her band. During that time, Kelly located his producer and made a proposal.
Kelly looked at both of his producers. “Can we change the show, just for
tonight?”
Lisa Zayer, the female half of his production team, asked, “What do you
have in mind? The network isn’t too happy about losing the commercial time
during the program.”
“I know, but this is sweeps week. I think the numbers we’ll get from this
show will justify that decision.”
“What else do you have in mind?”
“Would it be possible to let the show run long?”
“How long?” asked Kurt Ewing, the male half of his production team.
“I don’t know yet. If we run long, we can justify an intermission which
could be a very long commercial break time.”
“Have you approached General Wayne with this?” asked Zayer.
“No. Take a walk with me.”
The three of them walked to where Susan and company were rehearsing.
******************************
Susan gave the band a break and approached Kelly and his producers.
“What can I do for you, Mister Kelly?”
“I was wondering if you would mind if we sort of open-ended the show this
afternoon?”
“Open-ended?”
“Normally my show runs ninety minutes, including commercials. I’m wondering
if we might do more than ninety minutes with one intermission break somewhere
in the middle.”
“I suggest you talk with my agent. What you are proposing is a televised
concert with interviews.”
“True enough. Your contract reserves all copyrights to tonight’s
performance to you and your partners; so, I don’t see you losing anything in
the deal.”
“Run it by Brad Gordon. If he accepts it, it’s a go.”
******************************
Kelly and his producers looked at the image of Brad Gordon. “I’ll send you
a contract modification shortly. If you accept it, I’ll call Susan.”
After Gordon hung up, Kelly looked at his producers, “Well?”
“If it’s a go, we need to get some banners on screen to drum up a larger
audience. If the numbers turn out right, we can make a killing on our upcoming
ad sales.”
******************************
It took Brad Gordon thirty minutes, with the assistance of two contract
specialists, to generate a contract modification that satisfied him. Within
fifteen minutes after faxing it to the Kelly people, he had a signed copy in
hand. Then he called Susan.
******************************
END PART 38
part 39
Back to Aubrey's