Chapter 41
Three weeks had passed since the night Brad and Susan had been taken down by tranquilizer guns and the weapons systems data had been removed from Recon's collar. It was as if all of those involved were holding their collective breath, waiting to see what was going to happen. All had been so carefully planned, and then at the very last second a mystery man stepped in and changed everything. Who was this person, and just as importantly, how did he know the secret location of the weapons systems information? The amount of people who knew what was happening, or that even anything was happening, was incredibly small. The group consisted of the Director, Special Agent Armando Martinez and Brad and Susan. A small, handpicked team of agents who worked directly under Armando had a limited knowledge of the operation. Everybody involved was beyond suspicion. All they could do was wait until the holder of the authentic memory stick surfaced, and that's what worried them. Where and how would he surface? They studied all intelligence information that came in daily, hoping to see some sign of weapons activity, but none presented itself. All they could do was wait, and waiting was the hardest part.
Armando had his suspicions who the culprit was, especially since time had passed without hearing a word the holder of the memory stick. There was only one person that he could think of that would think it out and come up with the right conclusion. Joseph Eichmann. What made Eichmann a person of priority on Armando's list of suspects was the fact that he did not kill Brad and Susan. If it had been Alberto's men, he would have insisted that all participants end up dead. Eichmann always preferred any alternative to killing people if he could. As he had gotten older he had become even more opposed to permanent elimination.
Joseph Eichmann was one of the best investigators the agency ever had. Once Eichmann had a case, he pursued it like a bloodhound on the scent of a trail. Being reluctant to kill his adversaries made Joseph a less than effective agent in the field. He had to be retired.
What also made Joseph a person of consideration was the fact that the holder of the real weapons information had not yet surfaced. Through what Armando had heard from Brad's conversations with Joseph, and the bits and pieces he was able to pick up through agency networks, he knew that Joseph was contracted to the The Committee. As mysterious a group as they were, he knew that these were some of the most powerful people in the world working in unison to keep a functioning global economy operating. These people were far from angelic, but they did operate from a set of values that would be more positive than detrimental to the world. Advanced weapons systems in the hands of third world dictators was about as detrimental as you could get.
Who ever had the real memory stick apparently knew the big picture. Somehow, he knew that part of this operation was a sting to find the mole within the agency, and he had quietly held off, allowing the sting to complete itself. Which it did exactly three weeks from the night that Brad, Susan and Recon woke up on the living room floor of Susan's house.
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Alberto De La Cruz was content with the knowledge that he was now the largest arms dealer in the world. He was a multibillionaire in the prestigious position of being favored by very wealthy, third world countries. The underworld that he looked at as his world, now, really was his world. He owned it, and God help anybody who got in his way. He had ownership of this lofty and dangerous position for about a week when he got the call. The amount of money that he received was so large that it had to be transferred to various accounts in the Cayman Islands and Switzerland. This financial transaction was completed once the weapon's files were open by the buyers and saw that it looked authentic. One week later, the buyer's knew that it was bogus information and not a single weapons system on the memory stick was producible or operative.
The president of the oil rich country that had given Alberto such a large amount of money preferred to be referred to by his humble title, Commandant. The Commandant had been exactly that when he took over his country in a military coup, eliminating all adversaries in his government quickly and brutally.
Alberto had never spoken to the Commandant directly, but had communicated through negotiators. The call that Alberto got on his private line a week after becoming a multibillionaire was no different, which may have been fortunate for Alberto in the sense that he did not have to hear the Commandant's anger or the death sentence that he had imposed on Alberto. If he had heard the Commandant's anger he may have been compelled to run, hide on some distant pacific island with his billions of dollars, but even Alberto knew that there was no place to hide, for even though the Commandant was a the leader of a country, he was also a power house in the underworld in which Alberto dwelt. He would be found, he would be put to death, and probably tortured first. The only way out of this was to throw the Commandant a bone, protect his own butt. As he listened to the calm, diplomatic voice on the other end of the phone, he realized this.
The voice was saying, “You do realize there are consequences for such inappropriate actions, Mr. De La Cruz. You may gain some redemption from the Commandant by returning all the money, plus interest and penalty fees to compensate for a bad business deal.”
Alberto's heart jumped with the realization of what the man was saying. It was being taken away from him in the snap of a finger. He would be lucky to have a few million left. Maybe just enough to do a small arms deal, to start all over again at the bottom of the ladder. He gritted his teeth at the prospect of such a loss, but at the same time, he would at least still be alive. He could build it back up again.
“Yeah. Sure.” Alberto said nervously. “This has been a big mistake, sir. I have been duped to the same extent as you have.” Alberto's mind was working quickly. He had to pass this lethal ball to someone else, for whoever held it was a dead person.
“This whole operation” Alberto continued, “was controlled and put together by the inside man who obtained the information.”
“So, Mr. De La Cruz, you are telling me that you are not the main person in this operation.”
“Yes, sir. That's what I'm telling you. I just co-ordinate the people involved.” Alberto responded, trying to keep the stress and tension out of his voice, for he knew that his life was not worth a nickle at that point. “A man named Sam Levitt is the main operative. He put this whole thing together and gave me the information, which I passed on to you.
“Sam Levitt is the Assistant Director of a secret American agency within Homeland Security.
“Hmm. That is interesting.” The voice commented. “You are just the facilitator, yet you are the one who holds all of the money.”
“Well, yes.” Alberto said uncomfortably. “I haven't distributed it yet.”
The long, silent pause that filled the air told Alberto that the man did not believe a word he said. “Responsibility changes hands in the eyes of accountability, does it not, Mr. De La Cruz?”
“Mr. Levitt is a very powerful man in the American government, sir. I don't know what his game is, but he accepted the position of working with us and dictated the amount of money that he expected to get for his part.
He's the nucleus to this whole operation. If there is a break in the chain, it has to be him. Maybe he's working as a double agent, trying to play it from both sides for twice the money. Everybody else has done their job to the letter.”
“I see. I'm going to put you on hold for a minute.” The man said, and did so without waiting for a response. He came back on the line a couple of minutes later. “We are going to arrange for a private plane to pick up Mr. Levitt and he will be brought to your hacienda in Baja. We will discuss the resolving of this problem to The Commandant's satisfaction at that time.”
“What if Levitt refuses to go to Baja?” Alberto asked.
The man's laugh was short and lacked signs of humor. “His presence at this meeting is not a request.” The man said.
“Okay, I get the picture.” Alberto said, his mind racing. “But, we're covered. Right? I mean, I'm going to get the money back to you plus interest, and I'm giving you the secret guy who screwed this all up. So, we're covered. Right?”
Instead of answering Alberto, the man said, “Don't try to set us up by having your gunmen ready to attack. It would just compound a bad situation, and get your men, and you, killed. Do we have an understanding, Mr. De La Cruz?”
Alberto took a moment to respond, as, that was exactly what he was thinking of. He could have ten men here with automatic weapons in a very short time, but the Commandant could have a hundred soldiers here in the same amount of time, and nobody would ever know they were foreign combatants. They would kill everybody in sight and be gone in minutes, out to sea as quickly as they came in, on a naval ship in international waters. Alberto's situation was tenuous at best, but he had been in tough spots before and survived. He would it this time also. He just had to sacrifice a good asset, Sam Levitt. But, what the hell. This is business. Sacrifices happen. Sam Levitt was the best inside man Alberto every had. But, the current circumstances, which was basically Alberto saving his own life, called for extreme measures. In business, Alberto looked at people as no less a commodity as the products that he sold. That perspective, plus armed guards, allowed him nights of restful sleep free of haunting ghosts.
“I completely understand, sir.” Alberto responded to the unveiled threat. “You will find me to be most co-operative.”
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