COVERT WRITERS TAKEDOWN by Joe Bergeron (best ebook reader for chromebook TXT) 📖

cheek.
“I’m glad we’re with you.”
Retrieving her bag, she moved to JGM’s
executive suite, three rooms and two bathrooms that
would easily flatter any five star hotel guest.
Courtney exchanged a deliberate with his
mentor.
“Where’s Pat?”
“I don’t know…but he’s in their hands.”
82
Chapter 4
The Eighteenth Physical Law
Time Is Elastic, And Rapid Motion Slows It
Saturday, May 20, 11:37 a.m.
Albert Einstein’s Special General Theory of
Relativity is considered by many learned men and
women to be the single most important thought of
humankind.
In part of his theory, Einstein proved that the
effect of motion and gravity on time caused it to become
dilated, or expanded. Time dilation in relativity
confirmed that the faster you move, the more time you
have to complete something.
In metaphysical terms, the theory of the
Eighteenth Law has more philosophical than physical
properties. In the world of human realities, advantages
are gained by rapid motion, thinking and acting before
an adversary can act, causes a negative effect on any
offense posture established by an opponent.
A pitcher in baseball always has the advantage
of a batter because of the Eighteenth Law, but a runner
on first base has the advantage over the pitcher. A
Special Forces British commando unit who’s slogan is
“Who Dares, Wins” is an example of the practical
application of Law Eighteen.
Courtney, sitting opposite JGM’s President
following a shave, shower, and three hour rest,
subconsciously brought Law Eighteen to bear on the
breach in Yankee Echo. In his contingency plan, it
would become a remediation priority. Act first, and act
quickly.
83
“How’s Kathleen, Michael?”
“She’s still sleeping.”
Wirtham’s voice was soft - “When are you going
to tell her about Pat?”
Courtney’s was equally soft - “Soon, before she
figures it out on her own. When was the last time they
made contact with you?”
“It was about forty-five minutes before you got
here. - the message was - We Have Mister McKenzie,
And We’re Serious.
“It was a man’s voice, mature, clear, no accent.
Apparently, they don’t know Pat’s involved with
Yankee Echo. I think they took him because of your
relationship with Kathleen.”
Wirtham had no sooner finished his statement
when he realized he may have phrased it imprudently.
“Michael, I didn’t…”
“Don’t worry, I understand. They want me.
They probably think you own Yankee Echo and run it,
that’s the appearance we give them. I’m worried about
Pat, but at the same time, I’m thankful they didn’t go
after Kay. Pat can handle himself. She’d kick someone
in the balls and would have been in a world of trouble.”
Sitting deeper in his chair, he began tapping
the tips of his fingers together in front of his chest,
finally bringing each hand’s opposite digits to rest
against their counterparts.
“Robert, is our TAC 5 ready?”
A ‘TAC‘, or Tactical Advantage Communication,
was a coded organization message which would alert
the Yankee Echo network regarding the stories, and the
number of stories they would write, what position to
take on their stories, and when to publish.
“Yes, it’s all loaded for a Cuban write.”
“When did the breacher say he’d contact us
again?”
“He wasn’t specific - but he sounded urgent.”
84
Courtney sat up straight in his chair, his hands
coming to rest on his knees.
“OK, let’s roll the TAC this afternoon, but I
want to exclude any newspaper with a circulation base
greater than two hundred thousand. I’m guessing the
breachers are probably metropolitan based, so I want to
keep the stories in the smaller format papers. Maybe
we can give grass-roots America a shot in the arm.”
“How many writes do you want?”
“Just one - I don’t want to make too many
changes right now.
“Michael soon were going to be working for
them, they want negative press.”
“They’re going to get it. Remember, they don’t
know how big we are - at least we don’t think they do. I
don’t intend to turn the whole organization over to
them. Only half of it.
Courtney had no idea he’d only be turning over
one-tenth of the writers in the clandestine operation for
the breachers’ purpose.
“What’s your occurrence plan?
“Three hundred writers will go pro-active on
the Cuban Reform Plan, and the other three hundred
will write anti-package. We’ll work off population,
income, and demographic bases.”
Wirtham began taking notes.
“In areas where there’s a high concentration of
above average marginal incomes, we’ll be pro-package.
I want to use the anti-package writers in our rural
zones, and in the SMSA’s that have a diversity of ethnic
inner city pockets. One half of our editorials and
articles should negate the effect of the other half. Until
we locate the breachers, and Pat, and take control of
this situation for good, that’s going to be the procedure,
unless we run into any unplanned contingencies. Right
now, I’d like to know more about Florida - what’s
happening down there?”
85
The former professor would answer his
question, understanding that his former student, who
was now in charge of Yankee Echo would want a full
comprehension of the arena in which he was working.
“Andy St. Croix left for Miami last night to
check out Dan Bellcamp, our writer at THE MIAMI
HERALD. Bellcamp’s called me at least twenty times
over the past twelve or thirteen weeks asking for
clarifications, checking codes, verifying identification
procedures - it was like he’d lost his manual. Then,
last week, he sent an exchange editorial to THE
SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS about the exploitation
of the labor force in Cuba. I don’t know if he faxed it
anywhere else, but I haven’t heard of anyone else using
it. I checked with West Coast, East and West Central,
and none of the M.A.’s have seen it in print either. One
other thing, he asked me if Tom Griffin was an Echo
writer, and if he was, would I mind if he exchanged
some writes with him. You know I didn‘t answer that
question.”
“That guys a loose cannon, Robert.”
“Andy should be calling in soon, we’ll have the
details on whatever he finds. He was going right to
Bellcamp’s house.”
The now-in-charge metaphysician had another
question.
“Where’s Griffin located? I should have a
conversation with him about his article yesterday in the
JOURNAL. Did you see it?
“That was something I wanted to ask you
about. Where does a staff writer get the leverage to
have an exclusive with a Cabinet-Level
Secretary?” “Someone was behind that, we need to
know who.”
86
Friday, May 19, 8:29 p.m.
The short, jacquered-pattern kimono,
appropriately packaged in a black Frederic’s box rested
in the center of his living room coffee table, it’s contents
awaiting transfer of ownership.
It was going to be a surprise for her.
Although Catalina Salazar also had a surprise
in store for Dan Bellcamp, the kimono was not the only
thing he had prepared for the Cuban V.P.’s mistress
tonight.
Dan Bellcamp was expecting a visitor - a Latin
with shapely legs who had promised him tonight would
be the most everlasting evening he would ever
experience.
Splashing on his after shave, he thought about
the message he’d written for her on the card he’d
purchased at CVS, two blocks east of his house.
On three prior visits, they’d only talked - about
a clandestine writing organization and its codes,
security clearances, and the top two men in the
organization. One who owned and ran it, and one who
was it’s analyst. Tonight was the night they
had agreed to exchange two million American dollars
for the information he’d previously provided, plus the
final list of Yankee Echo security codes.
The concept of the organization seemed
incredible to both Miguel Belize and George Tollman.
But the coded and translated facsimile messages sent
from JGM Exports, arriving on request to a fax machine
in Bellcamp’s suburban Miami two bedroom ranch, plus
the realities that his in-house fax could not be accessed
by any other fax, and that its number was unlisted
anywhere, led the two men to believe his story could be
real.
87
The investigation of his breached trust,
however, had come to several dead ends. How many
writers were actually involved? Which media had
Yankee Echo infiltrated?
His preliminary inquiries satisfied, the
Secretary of Commerce had decided to press the issue,
and eliminate the loose end. He and Belize had enough
information to begin their operation, and all the
information they were going to get from the Managing
Editor.
He hadn’t heard her come in. On her last visit,
he’d given her a key to the domicile he would never see
again after tonight.
“Dan, where are you?”
He heard her voice, his first thought was the
card. He’d finished writing the message, but hadn’t yet
put it in the envelope.
Hurrying, the Hallmark with painted flowers
on its cover was thrown into his upper nightstand
drawer while he quickly joined her in his living room.
“Catalina, I wasn’t expecting you until nine.”
The sight of her in her black silk Emporio
Armani jump suit caused him to forget the card even
existed.
She’d brought with her a rather large pullalong
piece of leather luggage.
“Can I fix you a drink? We need to celebrate. I
bought a new bottle of Smirnoff.”
Slithering toward the center of the room,
Salazar deposited the luggage next to his couch noticing
the unmarked envelope on his southern pine coffee
table.
Releasing one more button on the bloused part
of her already revealing Armani, she accepted the
invitation.
“Yes, that would be fine.”
88
“I have a gift for you, Catalina.”
Waddling to his living room dry bar, he filled
two old-fashioned glasses with ice, THE MIAMI
HERALD’s masthead and anniversary date on them
providing point of origination. The vodka followed,
trickling over and down the frozen water in each.
Turning, he noticed she had assumed a seated
position on the couch, right arm over its crest, left leg
crossed over right, left hand on left thigh.
The Fredric’s box remained in its original
position unopened.
“Dan, come, sit next to me.”
His pulse quickened as he shuffled toward her,
a newspaper anniversary glass in each hand.
She stood to meet him, reaching for the
tumbler extended in her direction.
Grasping it insecurely, its topmost
circumference was caused to tip backwards spilling
most of its contents on his new Levi chinos, while the
rest of the masthead anniversary edition’s liquor and
ice fell to his gray rayon carpet.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, let me clean it up.”
“It’s OK, maybe you could get the paper towels
under the sink. Let me go change, I’ll be right back.”
Unbuckling his belt, he moved toward his
bedroom.
It would take no longer than two or three
minutes to change the chinos, a time limitation held in
both his mind as well as hers.
She had no intention of cleaning the carpet,
although she would cause it to appear an attempt had
been made.
A small, glass vial in her right pocket had her
full attention while returning from the kitchen and
throwing a pull of five paper towels to the carpet.
A quick glance toward the bedroom assured her
she had time.
89
The flask was removed from its silk hiding
place next to her equally silk Latin skin. A small, tan
cork was pulled from one end.
Pouring the vials clear liquid contents into his
masthead edition glass, she replaced the tube in her
sleek apparel.
The M.E. returned to the living room.
“There, good as new.”
He moved toward the bar to make her another
drink and reviewed the seductress sitting in her
original position, a wad of Bounty beneath her soaking
up some of the spilled cocktail from his carpet.
Presenting her with the new mix, the breacher
deposited himself on the cushion closest to her.
He offered her both a toast, and a question.
“Catalina, I’ve