“I’m going to have to head out for a couple of minutes,” he said as he handed Millar a network cable and a device with an RJ45 connector on the side. He started packing again and said, “You can get online securely with this. Just plug in, and the device will find you a connection and hide your IP address using proxy servers, amongst other things.”
Millar gave him a look of disgust.
“I know you’re a pro, Etzy, but this saves a little bit of time and leaves you with no doubt about whether you’re being traced. Trust me, it’s worth it.”
“I guess you’re right. I’m still not sure how they found me at the hotel.” He examined the device approvingly and then looked to the operative. “So what now?”
“We head to Chicago, and we dig deeper. Try to figure out what they’re up to.”
“How did you get into this? I mean, how does someone decide to become a techno spy or whatever it is you are?”
Turner laughed. “It’s a long story. Maybe one day we can talk about it over beers.” He looked up and smiled. “This time we’ll actually drink them.”
“Yeah, that would be cool. I could use one.” Millar sat down on the couch before continuing. “So these people you told me about, The Shop. Do you really think they can help?”
Turner nodded confidently. “Absolutely. Tak is brilliant.”
“Yeah, but Heckler said he wasn’t working on this. You sounded pretty sure that he should be running things, especially with the bot traffic, you know, confirmed as going to the Federal Reserve. It seemed like you didn’t think you got a straight answer on that.”
Turner noted that Etzy could read him pretty well. “They’re no doubt the best team out there. Even without Tak.”
“If you say so.”
“Look, I have to go meet someone so I can get our ride to Chicago taken care of.”
“What’s that?” Millar asked. He pointed at the toy-like object Turner was shoving into the bag.
Turner looked at the hacker. “This, my friend, is a PMD.”
“A PMD?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Turner said, laughing. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Chapter 43
“I can’t make it,” Senator Maximillian Soller said reluctantly.
The two men were cut from the same cloth, so he knew the caller wasn’t about to give in.
“There’s a lot on the line,” Federal Reserve chairman Bart Stapleton said. “I think we’ll need you to drum up support for this.”
“How would it look after what’s happened? Would that really be a good idea come campaign time? Think about it.”
“Fly straight there and back. Nobody will even know you left. Sorry about your son, by the way. I know it’s been a struggle for you. Not everyone can be molded into a politician, especially one of your caliber.”
The senator shook his head in disgust. “He was starting to come around, spending a lot of time downtown.” The politician had recently become hell-bent on making his son the heir apparent to his political empire. This made his recent death even more significant. “I let him use the room I reserve on Capitol Hill. That was what broke the ice. The hotel staff would keep track of his comings and goings for me, and it seemed he was finally showing some interest.”
He stopped talking when he realized he’d said too much. Politics was a world where you had to keep your thoughts, and especially your emotions, on a short leash, even when it came to old friends. It was important to never show weakness or dwell on failure.
“I don’t think anyone will ever be able to fill your shoes, Max. I’ve never met a man who could put people in their place as effectively as you.”
Soller laughed at the compliment. How he loved to browbeat people. “I’d consider it a personal favor if you handle this. You’ll have the others there to back you up. This thing in Iraq has dragged on longer than expected, and if we don’t do something now, we stand to lose everything we’ve invested and gain some enemies if we don’t deliver.” He reflected for a moment on what he had left in life, and realized it was only his career. “They will know you have my proxy,” he said, referring to The Group.
As innocuous as the name was, they seldom mentioned it in context. For anyone on the outside, The Group simply didn’t exist.
“Your proxy will only be good if we can get the support we need. Sure, there will be a couple of us to work the room, but we already know there’s no way the Russians will go for this. They’ll want the situation to fall apart so they can sweep in and take over from where they left off. We’ll need to swing everyone we can onto our side.”
“Since when are the decisions made there democratic?” Soller was never shy about throwing the weight of the US contingent he controlled behind The Group’s cloak-and-dagger decisions. Collectively, the men who represented his country there had more power over major corporations in the world than a sane man would find comfortable. “Please, Bart, do tell me you can handle this,” he said with a hint of annoyance.
“There’s a lot at stake here,” Stapleton said flatly.
“I have full confidence you will come through. They will respect you as they do me. If not, we’ll work out how to make up our losses in other ways. I can’t do it this time.”
Soller knew this deal with The Group meant much more to Stapleton than it did to him. Power was money, and taking care of their would-be friends in the oil industry was something he knew the chairman had hoped would set him up for life.
“Then I’ll fill you in when I return,” Stapleton said, and then paused thoughtfully for a moment. “You do realize this will be the first time a Soller hasn’t been present in more than half a century.”
The senator cringed at the thought. He was starting to feel the magnitude of what that meant. He would be the final Soller to be a part of a group conspiracy theorists had been trying to expose for decades. He lamented the fact that his daughter, Maria, wasn’t an option, based on long-standing tradition. The Group would never allow a woman representative, not even if she was a Soller. In his eyes, his wife had failed him by giving birth to a male who was uninterested in politics. Bitter didn’t even begin to describe his feelings toward the bitch.
He drew in a deep breath and said, “Yes, I do.”
Soller ended the call and considered the conversation. His thoughts immediately drifted to his son. Anger began to pool inside as he thought about the importance of what would now be lost. Power, tradition, the very foundation that his life had been built upon. Somebody would pay for what had happened.
His mood escalated from ruthless to evil as his phone began to ring. He recognized the caller and answered the phone by saying, “Speak.”
“We’ve got something on him now,” FBI Director Frank Culder said.
Soller tightened his grip on the phone. “Who?”
“Max’s friend.”
“Really, and what would that be?”
“His sister. Our special arrangement has just escorted her off the radar,” Culder confirmed.
“Will that bring him to you?”
“I think so. I had someone who wasn’t on the team checking things out. I couldn’t risk sending one of the men. We need to keep a low profile. She said the two of them were very close.”
“She…who?”
“It doesn’t matter. No one important. I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure nobody comes sniffing around.”
“What has she told you about her brother?” Soller’s tone was dark. “I want you to find him. Do you understand me, Culder?”
“We’ll get Millar, don’t you worry about that.”
“Good. I’ll make sure it’s worth your while,” the senator said, knowing his lapdog had been waiting for an opportunity like this to move up the food chain.