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

tossed against the opposite wall.
The Boeing was not at a high enough altitude,
nor was it traveling at a great enough speed to cause an
implosion which would have sucked every loose item,
including the three men, through the holes.
The refrigerator had been located so its flying
door parts would rupture critical stabilizing lines when
they broke through the planes wall, thus disallowing
any turning maneuvers.
Although the aircraft had been refueled in the
Philippines, it had only been partially refueled. The
plane’s fuel supply was now almost gone. It would
travel at a height of five thousand feet for another
twelve minutes before its engines would shut down.
Even with access to the cockpit and its radios, Kushima
could not call for help because the dual communication
devices had been rendered inoperative.
Twelve minutes later the aircraft began a nose
dive for the Pacific Ocean.
Saito Kushima and his two bodyguards fled to
the last aft cabin to be as far away from the plane’s nose
when the aircraft hit the water.
It wouldn’t matter.
The impact of the water against the metal
frame of the plane threw all three men against the
walls of the room they once again shared with the
former United States Secretary of Commerce. In an
ironic twist of fate, George Tollman’s body was flung
from the high-back leather chair, landing on top of the
Japanese businessman.
The three men went down with both the
aircraft and The Secretary to the bottom of the Pacific.
There would be no attempt at recovery per Presidential
order.
360
Monday, May 29, 7:15 a.m. Washington Time
Randall Benson would hold open the
appointment he’d scheduled for Michael Courtney, even
though he knew he wasn’t coming. He also knew he
was only going to take one call before noon. It came at
7:21, the blinking light on his communication system
indicating its source.
“Yes, Scotty.”
“I have quite a bit of news for you, Mister
President. First, both Kushima and Tollman are
finished and confirmed.”
“Are your people alright?”
“They’ve all been recovered safely, Sir. The
operation was a success. There are no loose ends.”
“Scotty, we still have Courtney, St. Croix and
Pat McKenzie unaccounted for.”
“That’s the next part, Mister President.
McKenzie showed up at Robert Wirtham’s home last
night. I have people working on Courtney and
St, Croix.”
“They found Pat McKenzie and pulled him out
of Cuba?”
“They not only pulled him out, they also burned
the Vice President’s villa to the ground, and the VP and
a couple of dozen Cuban troops died in a firefight.”
“What!? When! Why haven’t we heard from
Santiago about that? I can’t believe that the Vice
President of a democratic nation has died, and I don’t
know about it..”
“Probably because Belize was his liability and
he’s going to cover it up. I’m sure we’ll get the real
story, but the Press will hear another one. It happened
yesterday morning.”
“Why did you withhold that from me?”
“I’m telling you now, Sir. We had Kushima and
Tollman to take care of first. It was my best judgment.”
“Let me be the judge of that in the future,
Scotty.” 361
The President knew there was little he could do
to control that, but he still needed to say it.
Orefice complied for the moment.
“Yes, Sir.”
His reply meant little, both knew it, and both
would let it go.
There was a pause in the conversation before
Benson picked it up again.
He understood that real power doesn’t always
exist with the highest authority.
“I’ll speak with Santiago later. Where are
Courtney and St. Croix?”
“Right now all we know is that they’re on the
East Coast.”
“How the hell did they pull it off?”
“We’re not sure at this point, but we know they
would have needed help, and we’re almost certain they
used military ordnance. We think that came from St.
Croix’s contacts.”
“Do you think the ordnance is worth tracking?”
“Only to help us find them. They did us a big
favor but don’t know that.”
He’d heard enough for now.
“Scotty, I know you’re going to stay on top of
this situation. The wife and I will be going to Camp
David this afternoon for some R and R. If you need me
for anything, or if you have any more developments, you
know how to reach me.”
“Yes, Sir, Mister President.”
They disconnected.
Monday, May 29, 8:10 a.m.
Pat McKenzie had phoned Wirtham
immediately after being dropped off at the motel by
Coverty and Bates. Finding his daughter was safe with
his old friend was a pleasant surprise until he was told
the circumstances of how she’d come to be there.
362
He’d taken a taxi to Miami International and
had rented a private Lear which had flown him to
Dulles. He and Kay had stayed at the Wirtham home
that night where they’d talked well into the night
before retiring. She’d told her father about the terrible
scene at Tollman’s home, how David Eisenberg and his
men had rescued her, and how the Secretary of
Commerce was shot. During their hours of
conversation, there were tears mixed with some levity -
ironic opposites in the same phenomena.
Wirtham had explained the breach in Yankee
Echo, the fact that some of the breachers were still
unaccounted for, and how he thought Courtney’s help
would be necessary to put the organization back in
working order.
McKenzie had told them he didn’t think that
was possible based on his conversation with Michael
and Andy in the Zero compound. After hearing the
details on how Yankee Echo was organized, who
controlled it, its size and scope, they’d both bailed out.
He also said all of this would have to be relayed
to Eisenberbg.
Before they’d gone to bed, the Deputy Director
had been contacted, and he’d agreed to meet with the
three of them at 8:00 a.m.
The black Ford Crown Victoria in front of
Robert Wirtham’s home was occupied by two CIA
Special Ops personnel. David Eisenberg’s Lincoln,
immediately behind the Ford, sat unoccupied.
Inside the home, four people sat in Wirtham’s
living room. Wirtham’s wife had left for work thirty
minutes earlier.
Pat McKenzie and his daughter sat on a couch.
Wirtham and Eisenberg sat in arm chairs in front of
them, a glass-topped coffee table between the two pair.
There had been initial greeting and welcoming
statements and wishes for recoveries, followed by
introductions of the subject matter of this gathering.
363
Kay McKenzie addressed the youngest of the
three men.
“David, Michael is going to contact me. Why
don’t you call off your people?”
“Because we need him now, Kathleen. He has
all the answers.”
“What answers, David? My father’s back.
Whoever breached the organization doesn’t have a
hostage anymore. Why don‘t your people concentrate
on finding the breachers, and leave Michael alone?”
Her father provided part of the answer.
“Kay, Michael and Andy know everything about
Yankee Echo, we need to know their intentions.”
“Dad, do you think he’s going to go to the NEW
YORK TIMES? For God sake, he’ll let it go. I know
him. He’s not going to take on the CIA.”
It was Wirtham’s turn.
“Kathleen, please try and understand how
important the organization is to everyone involved.
Michael’s been a big part of this, and we just want to
talk to him.”
Eisenberg could see there was no point in
detailing a possible recovery scenario of Courtney and
St. Croix in front of her and decided to terminate the
meeting among the four, to take it up again later with
just three people present.
“Look, I know you people must be anxious to
get back to Connecticut, let’s pick up on this later.”
Kay McKenzie and Robert Wirtham understood
this to mean, ‘I’m not going to give out the details of our
next moves in front of Kathleen because she’ll give
them to Courtney if he calls her.’
Pat McKenzie just thought it was a good idea
to meet later.
The answers he, and a lot of other people were
looking for from Michael Courtney, were going to come
sooner than expected.
364
Monday, May 29, 1:15 p.m.
Courtney and St. Croix walked the twenty
meters across the inside of the Zero building to speak
with Coverty. Number One sat at a drafting table
reviewing maritime charts. Above the tilted table, a
small television set on a steel stand was channeled to
receive a military news station. Although at low
volume, it still could still be heard.
Finally reaching him, it was St. Croix who
spoke.
“Snake?”
He turned from viewing the drafting table’s
contents.
“Me and Mick will be leaving soon. We wanted
to thank you and Allen for all the help. We couldn’t
have done this without you guys.”
The active Zero chuckled.
“No need for thanks Andy, we took out some
bad people, and probably did a favor for more people
than we know about.”
He addressed both of them.
“There’s something you guys should know
about.”
Indicating the television, he continued.
“I’ve been catching the news - George Tollman
is dead. He went down in a plane crash in the Pacific
off Japan last night. It’s been broadcast for about an
hour now.”
Courtney thought for a second - somehow this
news didn’t surprise him.
“Who released that information, Snake?”
“The White House Press Secretary, Radler. He
said Tollman was on vacation in Japan. His plane took
off from Tokyo and went down with engine trouble. The
pilot contacted Clark Air Base in the Philippines, but
there was nothing those guys could do. It should be in
the papers too.”
365
Courtney couldn’t believe it. How fortunate,
how poetic, how fucking lucky for the President, the
Director of the CIA, Pat McKenzie and Yankee Echo.
He addressed Coverty with a statement meant
to be a question.
“Snake, I need to make a phone call.”
“Go ahead - you can use my office.”
“Andy, excuse me.”
“Sure, Mick - go.”
Thoughts bounced through his mind:
‘Tollman’s dead? President’s meeting - Orefice
calls me, sets it up. On vacation? What a crock. Why?
He wouldn’t get dusted because he opposed the Cuban
Plan - Hell, Benson could have just fired the jerk. -
President’s second agenda.’
The door to the Zero’s office was open. He
closed it.
Sitting at the desk, he held his face in his
hands, thinking.
‘Kay, Kathleen, Kay, Oh God, where are you?’
He dialed her condominium. Six rings - no
answer.
Redialing, he tried Connecticut. Two rings -
someone connected - a man.
“McKenzie residence, may I help you?”
“May I speak with Kathleen, please?”
“I’m sorry, Miss McKenzie is out of town. If
you’d like to leave your name and number, I’ll deliver a
message to her when she returns tomorrow.”
“No, no thank you…I’ll try reaching her when
she comes back”
He went back to his thoughts.
Yankee Echo was huge, much larger than he’d
known. All the strategy he’d planned seemed so logical.
Good things got done. He couldn’t even remember a
time he’d designed a plan that would have a direct
benefit on any corporation, not even McKenzie
Industries. 366
Wirtham set direction for ‘writes’, but who gave
it to him - Pat - the CIA - a committee of corporations -
all of them? Did he just do the CIA stuff
Monday, May 29, 1:25 p.m.
McKenzie, Wirtham and Eisenberg were all in
agreement. Find Courtney and St. Croix and debrief
them - then fix the organization. They would both be
invited to keep their jobs, even though that possibility
remained remote at this time. They’d both been under
a lot of stress, and had a right to be angry. If they
wanted out, they could leave, but they had to be
controlled, and Eisenberg would speak with Scott
Orefice about how that would be accomplished.
Whatever it took, Yankee Echo had