Full Blast. Don Pendleton

who we are to one another. No reason for anyone to even break into our transmissions.”

      “Haven’t I read somewhere that no form of communication is entirely safe from eavesdroppers? Aren’t there listening devices in orbit?”

      Murphy smiled. “Quite correct, Senator. Listening programs are getting even more sophisticated every day. But they are far from fully perfected yet. Even the Echelon system, as good as it is, has a hell of a lot to deal with. The sheer amount of electronic traffic it has to filter is phenomenal. It can’t get everything. And we make certain that all our conversations are limited to a vocabulary that avoids code words or links Echelon might recognize.”

      “And does that make us safe?”

      “Hopefully for as long as we are going to need to be safe,” Gardener said. “I understand your concern and the logic behind it. To answer your last question, and I believe Murphy will back me on this, we are vulnerable to a degree. But every gamble has its downside. As far as we are concerned, communication between our units is vital. So we take the chance. And don’t worry about Gardener Global. The people running the communications are not going to be a problem.”

      “So how ready are we?” the senator asked.

      “We have equipment and personnel in place, so we’re ready to go. The first objective will be to detain the President during his trip to Bucklow.”

      “Easier for you than trying to deal with him in the White House.”

      “Just one of those tricks of fate,” Gardener said. “Out of the blue he sets up this trip to visit the site and talk with the survivors. We couldn’t turn down an opportunity like that.”

      “Resistance?” Justin asked. “You must have considered it.”

      “Of course. It may be necessary for us to engage in combat with units still loyal to the current administration. Casualties will be regrettable if they refuse to surrender.”

      “Killing our own isn’t the best way to engender public sympathy.”

      Gardener turned to face the senator.

      “Show me an alternative, Ralph, and I’ll use it. If not, I can’t afford to go soft over those who choose to resist. Someone is going to get hurt. Possibly on our side, too, but even though I understand that, I have to accept the losses.”

      “What about my fellow government representatives?” Justin asked.

      “Same goes for them. They take it on board. If they don’t, they’re against us.”

      “Chase, we’re going to need those people.”

      “Agreed. I don’t see a major problem. Ralph, you of anyone in this room should understand the way the people on the hill work. They fight with words, not guns. I don’t believe we’ll be facing a bunch of Congressmen armed with M-16s, or at best skeet guns.”

      Justin smiled at the image. “Interesting thought, but I’m sure you are right.”

      “Ralph, that’s where you will come into your own. You’ve never hidden your opinions about the way the administration has been running the country, or its handling of Iraq since the war. Truth be told, there are enough like-minded on the hill for you to swing the whole damn herd your way. Once we have their backing, we’re on even firmer ground.”

      “Sounds wonderful in theory. But we both know it might not run uphill the way we want.”

      “Oh, hell, Ralph, you’ll have my people backing you. Don’t forget that. There’ll be a lot of yelling and stamping of feet, but once the dust dies down and they see what we’ve done…”

      “Taking control of key installations? Power, water, broadcasting? Your men at the major airports and seaports?”

      “We move fast and we move hard. With the top men of the joint military command secured in detention who gives the orders? We do. We deploy and we stand fast. The President is moved out of office and I make my national broadcast. I explain what we’re doing and why. The American public wants something done. Too many of our people are dying out there in Iraq. That needs to stop. They’re tired of the loss of life. The drain on America’s resources. We come out of this with right on our side. Plus our hand on the Iraqi oilfields. Getting control of those would be one hell of a plus in our favor.”

      Senator Justin picked up the pot and refilled his coffee cup. He sat back and took time to listen as the tight group of men discussed the upcoming takeover of the American government. He saw the earnest looks on their faces, the calm tone of their voices, and he saw that they were fully committed to what they proposed to do. They viewed their actions as necessary. Something that America needed to stay the most powerful nation on Earth, and they were prepared to stand against the elected government and the President of the United States to carry their project through.

      Ralph Justin was with them. He had to be because he walked the same path and held the same reasoning. There was a need to protect their own interests, both political and business.

      There was a need to get America back on track, to show that the country still had a grip on sanity in a world that was on the slide. The Iraq situation was one example of good intentions turning sour. The country, far from stepping into the light, had backtracked and was being plagued by insurgent terrorist groups who struck where and when they wanted. By indecision and a lack of consolidation. Razan Khariza was back from the wilderness, engaging in all kinds of subversion. Doing his damnedest to move back into the power position within the country. The actions of Khariza and his group, trawling in sympathizers from all over the place and setting them free to kill and destroy, had all the earmarks of an attempted return to the old ways.

      Chase Gardener didn’t want, couldn’t allow, that to happen. His own candidate for the position of Iraq’s leader. Khalli al Basur had to be the one. An immensely popular man throughout Iraq, Basur had been forced to flee for his life when the Hussein regime, worried by his position in the country, tried to have him killed. Basur had survived three assassination attempts before realizing he would achieve nothing if he died. With great reluctance, he’d decided to go into exile and continue his fight away from Iraq.

      Basur had years of experience in the oil industry and it was through this that he had met Chase Gardener. The two men had become friends. They had lost contact following Basur’s disappearance from Iraq. Even McAdam had had difficulty locating the man. Basur had done a good job of hiding himself away, unsure of whom he could trust. It had been down to McAdam’s black-ops team to find Basur’s hideaway, taking him to one of McAdam’s own safe bases before McAdam himself had stepped in and delivered Basur to the Gardener ranch, where he had stayed until arrangements were completed to return him to Iraq. Basur would make his return, but as a partner to Gardener rather than the U.S. government.

      With the buildup toward war with Iraq and Gardener’s growing disenchantment with the way America was being run, the germ of what was now taking place had been born. Both men, now staunch supporters of each other, almost fell into their alliance. It was created through their individual needs and with an eye to the future. Gardener aware of the benefits of having such a popular, influential man as Basur controlling the country and the Iraqi speculating on the long-term advantages of becoming tied in with a man as powerful and long-sighted as Gardener.

      The details of their alliance had been mapped out over long sessions that ran each day and into the night. Gardener’s intention to move on the President had run parallel to establishing Basur as head of Iraq. That in itself was no easy challenge, but once the word had been covertly circulated among Basur’s loyal supporters that he was preparing a comeback, the way opened and unrolled before them like a red carpet.

      Always moderate in his views, Basur had wielded unstinting influence among the hierarchy of Iraqi politicians. An overwhelming majority thought as he did, but their views and opinions had been kept hidden during the Hussein tenure, because the former president, aided by his infamous secret police, the Mukhabarat, was always waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting who let slip any such views. Basur had had no illusions concerning his well-being