Rogers raised his hand like he was in first grade.
The President rolled her eyes. “Yes, Trevor.”
“Well, one of the concerns our government had in allowing Hail to transport all of our nuclear waste out of the country, was security. It was the same concern we had when we were considering transporting our own nuclear waste to Yucca Mountain Nuclear Waste Repository. But Hail had an answer for that. He hired dozens of MIT’s best aeronautic minds and their specialty was building drones.”
The President nodded that she understood and Rogers continued.
“You see, Hail’s answer to the security problem was to build drones that could protect the shipments. The drone would fly above the trains and barges and even above his own ships that transported the waste overseas.”
The General jumped in.
“And we wanted this project to work. We wanted all the nuclear waste removed from US soil, so we offered to provide Hail Hellfire missiles and other armaments that he could mount to his high flying drones. That took the onus of security off of our government and made it a private contractor issue. If anything went wrong, then it would all be pinned on Hail Industries.”
“I’m still not following what you just told me. How did Hail get into Korea?” the President asked.
The Director of the CIA, Jarret Pepper, who had been using his iPad to look up Hail in the CIA computers, finally added his voice to the conversation.
“I think that Hail’s drone technology has matured beyond what we can imagine. I mean, common sense would indicate that he didn’t have boots on the ground in North Korea. He doesn’t own an army; he owns a business. A business that has top-of-the-line laboratories, manufacturing facilities, shipping and God only knows what else. For all we know, Hail has his own munitions factory. After all, ninety-percent of his facilities are located in foreign countries. And the countries in which he does have brick and mortar locations are indebted to him for the power he provides them. A red carpet is probably rolled out every time one of Hail’s ships docks in these poor countries.”
General Ford added, “And he sells those reactors to the poor energy-starved countries at a discount. Hell, he may even give them away for free. There is no way for us to know the specifics. That’s why these third world countries provide access to their ports and free land where Hail can build his plants.”
The Director of National Intelligence, Eric Spearman asked, “What kind of drone sits in a pool and takes high-def videos. Is it like a magical invisible drone of some sort?” he asked cynically.
There was a lull in the conversation. Lots of questions had been asked and not many answers had been provided.
The President tapped her pen on her desk. She looked contemplative and then she said one word, “Why?”
“Why what?” Rogers asked.
“Why does Hail want to kill Kim Yong Chang? What’s his motivation?”
“Oh that,” Rogers said, looking down at the floor.
“What do you know, Trevor?” she asked.
“Well, Marshall Hail is kind of damaged goods.”
“Aren’t we all?” Spearman said, and then looked around the room nervously, as if he had divulged a personal secret.
“Hail lost his wife and both of his twin daughters in The Five,” Rogers told the group.
“Oh my lord,” Joanna Weston said, putting her hands up to her face and shaking her head from side to side.
The rest of the room paused for a moment of silence, which was a typical reaction when someone mentioned The Five.
The President then slowly lowered her hands from her face and took in a breath so deeply that it made her rise in her big chair. In a quick huff, she let out the breath and said more than asked, “So we are talking about revenge as the motivation; a billionaire that has his finger on the nuclear pulse of the planet and is out for a little payback. That has disaster written all over it. Does anyone agree?”
“I don’t know,” General Ford stated. “I mean if we were to look at Hail as a weapon, then he is only as dangerous as where he is pointed. If Hail has developed technology that can kill anyone, anywhere, at any time, then that could be a great benefit to our nation.”
The President looked at her General as if he was off his rocker.
The General looked mystified.
“Hail is an American,” the General said, as if Hail’s allegiance to the United States was absolute.
The CIA man, Pepper, looked at the screen of his iPad.
“His ships are registered Panamanian,” Pepper said. “His business is incorporated in Ireland. Hail doesn’t even own a home or property in America. Hell, Marshall Hail hasn’t entered the United States in over two years.”
“He did have a home here,” Rogers said, defending his friend. “But after his family was killed in The Five, after the funeral he never returned to the United States. But that doesn’t mean he is not an American. He simply lives on his ships. He has everything he needs on his ships.”
The President said, “But something doesn’t ring true with what we’ve been discussing. Rogers, you just said he has everything he needs. Let me ask you this. Why is a billionaire asking us to send him a check for a measly twenty-five million dollars?”
Rogers thought about it and remained silent.
“See what I mean?” the President said. “Hail needs something from us. I don’t know what it is, but the request for the money is an olive branch of some sort. He wants to open a dialogue. No, the man who has everything still needs something and I think we need to find out what that something is.”
The room was quiet. Either the men in the room were still thinking over what the President had just said or they were all thunk out.
But Joanna Weston, the new President of the United States, was not done thinking.
“Trevor, do you know if Hail told anyone else about this assassination? My fear is this will turn into a much bigger issue if Hail wants the North Koreans to know that he was the man who killed their General.”
Rogers shook his head.
“No, that doesn’t sound like Hail’s style. He understands the political fallout. Hail’s a business man. I’m sure he doesn’t want to paint a big target on his back, unless he’s forced into a corner.”
The President appeared to be pleased with that response. She considered the situation for a few moments. The CIA and NIA men went back to perusing their iPads. The General, being in the military his entire life, was accustomed to staring blankly at walls while decisions were being made. He appeared to be content doing so now.
“Rogers,” the President finally said. “I want you to contact Mr. Marshall Hail and tell him that I would be happy to hand him that check in person. Please have him provide you a date when he and I can have lunch together out in the rose garden. Tell him I would be happy to work my schedule around his visit.”
Rogers looked at the President. He couldn’t come up with a reason why it was a bad idea or why Hail would turn down such and invitation; unless Hail had become a recluse and was afraid to leave the sanctuary of his ship.
“I will do that immediately, Madam President.”
“Great. Now Gentlemen, if we are done with this issue then let’s move on to other matters.
And they did.
Makassar Strait ― on the cargo ship Hail Nucleus
Hail was back in his big chair, back in the mission control center and back in charge.
The time in Kangdong, North Korea was about one in the morning. The Nucleus was entering the Makassar Strait. It was now only two hundred miles south of their destination Balikpapan City in East Kalimantan Indonesia. The time zone of the Nucleus in its current position and that of Kangdong were still the same.
With the success of their first mission, Hail had gotten some good sleep; downtime Hail would consider real sleep. His normal pattern of sleeping was problematic at best. He would fall asleep for an hour and then be jarred awake for absolutely no reason. Falling back asleep wasn’t a problem. All he had to do was read a book or watch TV and he would eventually drift off. But as soon as the next hour of REM clicked by, bang, back awake again. The pattern would repeat and repeat and repeat again until he was tired of the farce and got up and went on with another day of living.