1 Law 4 All - Gator. Billy Angel

already balding head, held what looked like a bulky phone with a hinged, thick antenna. He dialed Brighton Beach, Brooklyn in New York. Tariel (Hoza) Mogilevich, a captain in the Brighton Beach Russian mob, listened and then spoke in Russian. The skinny man answered the person on the other end with what sounded like a series of ‘das’. Mogilevich reminded the kidnappers of their instructions and to settle in for what could be a week or so. He ordered, “Keep her safe and out of sight.” Hoza knew that Moscow would hold him responsible if anything went wrong.

      Dom felt this situation spinning out of control. She understood two words besides her name from their conversation - ‘Project Florida’. Her mood alternated between furious and hopelessness. She forced a calming breath. She tried to feel secure in knowing Juan and her father would be looking for her soon. She knew her father could find her in a heartbeat. But, she wanted to try to contact them, but how?

      The minivan motored north at the speed limit. They crossed the Florida state line towards their destination, St. Simons Island, Georgia. They had a four hour ride northward. They were listening to the radio when a bulletin interrupted the music ‘This just in - Silicon Valley is under attack!’

      Chapter 6

      From Moscow's seedy Lyubertsy district, Vladimir (Tarzan) Solonik flexed his verbal muscle at Brighton Beach’s Russian mob captain Mogilevich. “Make sure you keep the girl locked up and out of site until I give you the okay to let her go. We think some of her friends may try a rescue. Take care of them. You understand?” Mogilevich didn’t need clarification. He enjoyed messing with these rich Americans. They ended their satellite call with assured confidence.

      Tarzan, as he’s known in brotherhood circles, immediately called his Club contact. He addressed Mr. West’s personal assistant, Miss Ball. He proclaimed to her that the ‘Project Florida’ mission was proceeding as planned. Miss Ball, an uncharacteristically tall, multi-lingual oriental woman in her early 30s, acknowledged that everything must be kept on schedule in order for them to receive their $100M payment. She concluded with emphasizing, “Remember no loose ends!”

      After ending the call, Miss Ball made her way through the compound’s gardens of Mr. South’s Caribbean Island retreat. Mr. South hosted this month’s regular meeting. The tropical atmosphere welcomed each of the members off their private jets.

      The Caribbean Islands humid breezy climate, lent itself to casual wear. Miss Ball wore a beige tennis skirt, a white midriff top that showed much of a toned tanned runner’s body. After ending Tarzan’s call, she set her sights across the courtyard to the gaming room. She pranced across the uneven courtyard flagstones with nimble ease in her Adidas walking shoes.

      Pictures of Germany’s World Cup Champions dotted the gaming room’s walls in between the large airy screened sections. The Club’s four members sat playing bridge in one corner. The butler announced Miss Ball’s presence. Mr. West motioned at her through his brown eyes with their saggy eyelids. “Project Florida is on schedule," Miss Ball announced. She briefly hovered in the doorway for admiring glances and then pranced again across the courtyard to her temporary office.

      These four eccentric, ultra wealthy men formed what they affectionately called The Club. All of them were beyond their mid 70’s.

      The Club’s leader traces his heritage to the German Arnultchil family of the 1800’s. Since then, the Club’s hold on economics and world affairs grew like a spider's web in a lonely barn corner. Their global financial fingers touched most every existing country, territory and village. They candidly considered themselves as masters of the universe.

      As they played team bridge, their influence moved global financial, commodity and underworld trafficking markets. The winners of today's bridge match earned the next global Monopoly moves in the commodities market.

      They nicknamed themselves Mr. North, Mr. South, Mr. East and Mr. West. The names represented loosely knits regions or responsibilities in those worldly regions. The components of their schemes were carried out in the most susceptible and expedient regions of targeted countries. Their millennial agenda included completely controlling the finances of the United States.

      Mr. North was charged with influencing northern hemisphere economics. His grandfather economically engineered a pair of Russian Revolutions in 1917 and 1918. His initial efforts laid the groundwork for their current millennial agenda. Grandfather ‘North’ created the concept of ‘Flowing Societies’ through a series of declining economic systems to anarchy.

      He experimented with early 1900’s Russia. A socialist party was founded and grew strong. The People’s Revolutions destroyed the existing economic system. Years later the natural progression followed: socialism to communism to socialist democratic anarchy.

      The ‘Flowing Societies’ experiment in Russia climaxed seventy years later with the destruction of the Berlin Wall. Today Russia operates with corrupt politicians married to an International Black Market.

      The Club felt they could accelerate grandfather’s results by corrupting European Politicians such as Germany's Hitler. They would instigate furious public riots in the early 1930’s more intense than those of Russia’s, Bolshevik Revolution. Their goal was the eventual Nazi party and Germany controlling the world. With Germany’s failure, they next focused on enforcing zero population principles in China. China was scheduled as next in line. But recent U.S. political successes put the USA ahead of China on their timetable.

      “I know we’re still a ways from pulling the rug on the U.S. economy like we did in Russia,” Mr. North commented. “China’s politicians need to loosen control of their people before their communist-socialism system will crumble leaving black market chaos like that in Russia.”

      A decade earlier their U.S. scheme inadvertently elected their groomed ‘puppet’ president. They enjoyed democracy’s power for eight years. The next election seemed assured with them ready to grow their power base with the first U.S. woman president. The election results surprised even these powerhouse individuals. More determined now, they set out to fix the coming elections.

      Mr. West, in charge of Western hemisphere politics, watched his current assignment dance along without a hitch. The kidnapping of the daughter of an American mafia crime boss had started. He did caution the group that Mr. East’s responsibilities in China and Mr. South’s Silicon Valley diversion needed to do well for them to affect the coming presidential election.

      Mr. West reminded everyone that they had successfully doomed U.S. healthcare and economy into a socialistic tailspin during the last decade with the Great Recession of 2007-09. He proudly explained that most progressive American politicians were under their bribed control. But that last election produced an independent businessman as president and many idealistic Representatives and Senators that couldn’t be bribed. The president, for example, earned billions before entering politics.

      He continued with “On the bright side, we have three possible presidential candidates in the U.S. Congress now. With our financial assistance, they were organizing presidential exploratory committees. One female representative in the northeast is attracting much attention. So much that we have prematurely floated part of our end game through her outspoken verbiage. In the U.S. we’re calling it the ‘Green New Planet’. This woman is as eloquently gullible as our last ethic puppet president.”

      Mr. East, the Club’s science and technology guru, smiled. “Our last presidential puppet was elected before we could educate him. He needed a teleprompter to make him sound intelligent. Otherwise, he sounded like someone from a ghetto trying to talk his way out of paying a gambling debt.”

      He was about to elaborate on his Silicon Valley diversion when Miss Ball gently knocked on the door frame. With four sets of eyes appreciating her anatomically fit body, she announced, “Silicon Valley is under attack.” She swayed to the large screen television at the far end of the room. She picked up the remote and tuned to Fox News. The words ‘Breaking News’ superimposed over a helicopter view of San Jose, California.

      The TV screen showed people running in all directions. Nothing mechanical moved: neither cars,