Zero Option. Don Pendleton

into their vehicles. Stahl stayed there until the cars had driven out of sight. He made his way to the desk in a corner of the room, picked up his phone, punching in a number sequence.

      “Are you available, Orin? Good. Where? That’s fine. An hour?”

      STAHL ARRIVED ten minutes early, which gave his security team time to check out the area around the meeting place. It paid to be careful. A man in Stahl’s position needed to be cautious. He knew he had enemies. There was no point in making it too easy for them.

      His team came back to report the area was clear. They climbed back in their car, and Stahl made his way down to the canal. Even though his car was some distance away, he knew his security men would have him in their sight.

      The water was flat, not a ripple breaking the surface. Birds sang in the distance, calling to their mates. Stahl took a breath, allowing himself a moment of calm.

      There was no doubt, he told himself, America was a beautiful country. It had everything a man could ever want or need. It was worth defending from those who looked at it through envious eyes. Terrorists, religious fanatics, countries who saw America as their adversary. The do-gooders and the liberals, even in America itself, who wanted to weaken it from within. The government legislators. The Communist sympathizers. The list was long. The threats came from abroad and from within America’s own borders. Between them they would turn America into a soft target, with no military to speak of and the defense system pared down to the bone to appease the overwhelming lobby of pacifists and downright cowards. It was sometimes hard for Stahl to believe that America had been built by far-seeing, hardy pioneers, men and women who had crossed the primitive continent, creating the strongest, richest nation in the world. They had done it from scratch, using their bare hands and their burning desire to be free. In the end they had done just that. It had taken decades, spilled blood and the bones of the dead who littered a hundred dusty trails, but they had achieved a miracle.

      And now, if it was left to the spineless administration, America would be weakened further, prey to any rogue nation that decided she was ripe for the plucking. There was talk of cutting back on defense, weakening the country’s armed forces, taking the nation’s protection out of the hands of the military. And there were too few politicians with the backbone to stand up in defense of those cutbacks. The Zero Option was ready and waiting, the ultimate weapon. In Stahl’s eyes, even if the current administration brought it online, it would step back from utilizing the weapon’s potential. Stahl would not hesitate to make the world fully aware of Zero and what it could do. His first act, once he was installed in the White House, would be a practical demonstration of Zero’s capabilities. There was nothing like a hard strike to show the world America meant business. And a hard strike was what Stahl intended. Then the world could look on and see that the new American government meant what it said.

      Stahl’s hands were shaking as he plucked a cigarette from his silver case and lit it. He inhaled deeply, of smoke, letting the effect calm him. Just thinking about the enormity of his scheme unsettled him. Once he embarked on it there would be no turning aside. It would have to be seen through to the end. There was no doubt that there would be a global outcry. Condemnation. Accusing fingers aimed at America.

      But what could they do?

      With Zero online and able to target anyone, what could they do?

      Damn them all!

      America needed a hard man at the helm. Someone not afraid to take on the bitchers and the whiners and the appeasers, a man who could tell the enemies of the U.S. to go to hell, because the country had the best, the finest, the most deadly weapon under its control. Once Stahl had Zero in his camp, he could bargain his way into the White House and show the American people he wasn’t fooling. And when he had the administration firmly manned by his people and the military under the command of Orin Stengard, then it would be the turn of the global community to see that America had turned the corner and was really back as the strongest nation on Earth.

      Stahl flicked ash from his cigarette and watched it fall into the water at his feet. He felt a little better after his internal rant. Sometimes his bitter feelings got the better of him, and it proved therapeutic when he gave vent to them.

      He heard footsteps close by. Stahl turned and saw Orin Stengard walking toward him. He was in civilian clothing. Sharply creased slacks and an expensive leather jacket over a pale cream shirt.

      “Eric,” Stengard said by way of greeting. “You made this meeting sound urgent.”

      “I wouldn’t have asked to see you if it hadn’t been.”

      “So?”

      “I was correct. Randolph has been making more of his threatening noises. I offered him the chance to join us, but he turned the offer down point-blank.”

      “Is it bluster, or does he actually know something?”

      “I think he’s starting to became suspicious. You know what he’s like. He’s worked out you and I are close. He also knows about Buchanan being alive.”

      “How the hell did he find out about that?”

      “Not from me. Look, Orin, that old bastard has been around for a long time. He has contacts all over, a finger in every department of the administration and the military. He’s a one-man CIA. He’s done favors for so many people you couldn’t read the list on a long weekend. That man has survived so many changes of government it’s worth a fucking medal.”

      “All right. So what does he want? A payoff? In on the deal? What?”

      “I’ll tell you what his intentions are, Orin, and believe me I know what I’m saying. Randolph wants to take us down. The man is a dinosaur. He has principles and morals. He doesn’t have enough at the moment, but the minute he does he’ll take his findings to the President and spill beans all over the fucking Oval Office carpet.”

      Stengard ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. He looked down at his highly polished leather shoes, cleared his throat, then looked out along the peaceful canal.

      “We get rid of him, then. No ifs or buts. Senator Randolph has reached the end of an exceptional life in politics. It comes to us all, Eric. None of us is immortal. You have any problems with Randolph’s imminent demise?”

      “Do I look like a man with a problem?”

      “To be honest, Eric, yes, you do. You need to learn how to relax. Tension never won any battles. Go with the flow. See the problem, work it out and send in the troops.”

      This time Stahl had to laugh.

      “I have to hand it to you, Orin. Here we are getting ready to make a hostile takeover for the government of the United States. We have teams of covert mercenaries on the loose. A fully armed orbiting weapons platform over our heads just waiting to be switched on. And all you can say is ‘Relax.’ How the hell did you get where you are in the military?”

      “By following my instincts. Letting the other poor idiots run around and get sweaty. Watching them work their butts off so they were old men before forty. I waited and listened, and took the chances they were too scared to tackle. They fell behind while I moved up the promotion ladder. And before you say it, yes, it was as easy as that. The military and politics are not so unalike. We plot and connive. Cultivate our allies and get rid of our enemies. Build up a store of favors we can call in. Make sure you always have your back to the wall and an eye out for the main chance.” Stengard turned so he had Stahl full face. “After that little speech I think we both should watch the other. After all, Eric, aren’t we after the same thing? Total power? High positions and control of the most awesome piece of hardware ever conceived? Tell me, Eric, do you still trust me?”

      “If I told you, it would place me at a disadvantage.”

      “Spoken like a true politician.”

      “Can I leave you to deal with Randolph?” Stengard nodded. He turned to make his way back to his car, Stahl at his side. He had his door open before he spoke again.

      “Have you ever heard of a man called Belasko?