Читать книгу The Knights Victorious - William Speir - Страница 13

Saturday, November 9, Evening

Paramaribo, The Presidential Palace

The President heard a gunshot coming from a room down the hall. A moment later, he saw the guards drag another body past his office door. This was the third body he had seen being dragged away in the hour since his Cabinet Ministers were separated. All he could do was sit helplessly in the chair in the middle of his office and watch his loyal Ministers, dying to protect the country’s secrets, being dragged away one by one.

They must be strong. This country is more important than any one of us. We can’t let it fall into the hands of these rebels. The country has suffered too much in the past because of ambitious men wanting power.

A moment later, he heard someone screaming in terror. It was unlike anything he had ever heard before. He had heard men scream in pain or in grief, but this sounded like the scream of someone seeing the devil himself. “What are they doing?” he demanded of one of the guards.

“Trying a different approach,” Francisco replied, entering the room with Carlos. “Our friends have developed a rather impressive drug to help discover what people don’t want to reveal. I thought that we’d try it before we ended up killing everyone in your government.”

“A truth drug?” the President asked. He knew all about truth drugs, but most of them made the person act calm and relaxed, not terrified. “What truth drug makes someone scream like that?”

“I don’t understand the chemistry involved,” Francisco replied, “but this drug causes terror. It’s the promise of the antidote that induces someone to tell us what we want to know. Otherwise, the subject will go mad from fear. Killing becomes an act of mercy at that point.”

“Barbarian,” the President spat contemptuously at Francisco.

“Perhaps, but it’s a means to an end. I control this country now, and I’m willing to let the transition of power be as smooth and painless as you are. But make no mistake, the transfer of power is going to happen no matter what you and your Ministers do – or don’t do, as the case may be. I’ll kill you all without a second thought if I don’t get what I want, and then I’ll get it anyway. It may take longer, but eventually I’ll get what I want.”

Francisco walked over to the President’s desk and sat down behind it. He leaned back in the chair with a look of complete satisfaction on his face. Looking back at the President, he said, “Don’t you think that it would be better for the people to make this as quick and painless as possible? If we inadvertently break a treaty or give the wrong code in a communication to our neighbors, who will suffer if we’re invaded? Me? My troops? Perhaps, but not as much as the people will suffer. You can spare them that.”

Francisco leaned forward in his chair and looked directly into the President’s eyes. “Do the right thing, Mr. President, and I’ll spare you and the Cabinet Ministers who are still alive. Give me the treaties, codes, and account numbers, or risk this country going up in flames.”

The President stared at Francisco in contempt. “Spare the people? Spare my cabinet? Spare me? Who do you think you’re talking to? You’re lying, and you’re an idiot if you think that I believe a word you say. You don’t care about our people. You just want power, and your lust for power will keep you from letting anyone live who’ll become a threat to that power. Kill me; kill us all, but be a man and get it over with. Just spare me your lies. I’ve no interest in them or in you.”

Francisco stood up suddenly, slamming the palms of his hands on the desk loudly. The sound echoed in the office for a moment as Francisco came around the desk and moved directly in front of the President. “As you wish,” he said angrily. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

Once outside, Francisco smiled. He had expected this response from the President and was glad that he had guessed rightly. In fact, he already had most of the information he was looking for. While three of the Cabinet Ministers had preferred to die rather than provide information to the rebels, several of the other officials were more than happy to provide the rebels with anything asked for in exchange for their lives. He had the treaties, the account numbers, and most of the diplomatic codes. All he really lacked was one thing.

Francisco walked down the corridor to the room where one of the prisoners was screaming in terror. There were certain codes used by the President alone when he communicated with other leaders in the region. The frequency of rebel activity made it imperative that communications between leaders be easily authenticated, so the leaders had developed a series of codes that only the true President would know and use. Without these codes, the other leaders in the region would never accept Francisco as the new President of Suriname and would immediately go on a military alert. Francisco had to make sure that this didn’t happen. The successful invasions of Guyana and French Guiana depended on those countries having no reason to suspect that any military actions were coming.

When Francisco reached the room where the Minister of State was shrieking from the results of Il Nona’s truth drug, he smiled again. He wondered if the President even remembered that the Minister of State was the only other person in Suriname who knew the President’s codes. The Vice President had never been shown the codes, to prevent him from attempting to take power; but the Minister of State, who sometimes had to act on behalf of the President with the other leaders in the region, did know the codes.

Francisco entered the room and was shocked at the appearance of the Minister of State. He was tied tightly to his chair but thrashing wildly to defend himself against the drug-induced images filling his mind. The Minister looked like he was trapped in a living nightmare, and Francisco was fascinated by the way the drug was breaking the man’s sanity.

“Just tell us what we want to know, and the monsters will go away,” the interrogator said softly in the Minister of State’s ear. “They’ll never hurt you again. Just tell us what we want to know.”

“Y-y-y-y-you p-p-p-promise,” the Minister of State whimpered to the interrogator, clearly on the edge of total madness.

“I promise,” the interrogator replied, sounding sympathetic. Looking up at Francisco, the interrogator smiled and winked.

“I-I-I-I’ll tell you. Just m-m-m-make it s-s-s-stop.”

The interrogator jabbed the needle of the syringe into the Minister of State’s arm and administered the antidote. “Remember,” he whispered into the ear of the Minister of State, “if you don’t tell us everything, I’ll bring the monsters back and let them have you.”

The antidote had an almost immediate effect, and the Minister of State relaxed and appeared calm. “In my safe,” he began, “is everything you’re looking for.” The Minister of State gave the combination to the interrogator, who walked over to the wall safe and turned the dial.

A moment later, the safe was open, and the interrogator brought the contents to Francisco. Inside were all of the President’s codes, as well as three additional treaties that Francisco knew nothing about.

“Excellent job,” Francisco said to the interrogator. “Please continue.”

“Yes, sir,” the interrogator replied. Turning back to the Minister of State, he said, “You did very well. The monsters won’t be coming back for you.”

“Are you sure?” the Minister of State asked, clearly distressed at the thought of seeing the monsters again.

“Quite sure,” the interrogator replied. “No more monsters for you.”

The interrogator stood up, pulled his pistol from his holster, and shot the unsuspecting Minister of State between the eyes. Holstering his weapon, he said, “Take the body away and put it with the others.”

Francisco watched the guards untie the body and drag it out of the office.

“Is there anything else you want me to find out?” the interrogator asked when he turned to face Francisco.

“No, you’ve done an excellent job, and I have all that I require,” Francisco replied. “I hope that you enjoy your new post as head of the Secret Police.”

“I will, sir. Thank you, sir!” the interrogator replied.

“And keep those drugs under lock and key,” Francisco added as he turned to leave the room. “I don’t want them falling into the wrong hands or being administered to the wrong person.”

“Yes, sir!”

Outside in the hallway, Francisco gave orders to the waiting guards. “Keep them all separated for now, but be ready to move them to Bitagron in the morning for ‘processing.’ Also, get the transmitters warmed up and the camera crew ready. It’s time for me to address my people.”

The U.S. Ambassador paced angrily in his office as the sun finally disappeared in the west. Communications were still cut off, and no one was being allowed in or out of the Embassy. He heard the loudspeakers announce the sunset curfew, and he wondered what was happening. He kept pacing, lost in thought and frustration.

A moment later, one of his senior aides came into the office. “Mr. Ambassador, the loudspeakers are making a new announcement.”

“What are they saying?”

“They’re saying that the President will be making an address to the nation in a few minutes, and it will be carried on every television channel.”

The Ambassador walked over to his desk, grabbed the remote control, and turned on the wall-mounted television monitor to the right of his desk. The snowy image that had been the only image available for the past day was now replaced with the image of the Suriname flag. Turning up the volume, he heard the announcer stating that the President would be making his address in just a few more minutes.

“Finally, some answers,” he commented as he and his aide sat down to watch the broadcast.

The Prior moved the television out of his office into the Commandery’s Meeting Hall. In a few minutes, he had it hooked up, and Tom and the others saw the flag of Suriname on the screen.

“The President will be on in just a few minutes,” the Prior commented as he took a seat next to Tom.

“Good,” Tom said. “I hope he’s OK.”

The President was gagged and his chair moved into the far corner of his office while the camera crew set up for the broadcast. Francisco sat down behind the President’s desk with Carlos and the Legate standing on either side behind him. The President watched helplessly as the camera operators checked the equipment one last time. Satisfied that everything was working, the President saw the camera operator count down silently from five. When he got to one, the people of Suriname got their first look at their new President.

“Good evening,” Francisco said smoothly into the camera. “I’m Francisco Emmanuel Baptista, Field Marshall of the Suriname Liberation Army, and as of today the new President of Suriname. I’m speaking to you live from the Presidential Palace to let you know about the extraordinary events which have taken place over the past few days. For too long, the people of this country have suffered – not from oppression or torture, but from complacency and mediocrity. Our leaders have made no progress whatsoever in improving the condition of our country, preferring to keep things exactly the way they are. This isn’t the role of leaders. For that reason, we found it necessary to remove the leaders of the government and replace them with people who have a vision for our small nation.”

Francisco paused for a moment. “The transition of power has been a smooth one and was accomplished with almost no loss of property or life. The forces under my command have taken control of and established order in every city and village in the country. The previous government’s leaders are being detained and debriefed, and they will be released over the next week as the new government completes the transition. You will all receive information regarding the new government policies and procedures. The most important thing to know is that these new policies and procedures will help usher in a new era of prosperity and wealth for all citizens of Suriname. There will be progress, there will be new industries, there will be more jobs, and there will be more wealth for everyone. This isn’t a case where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Everyone will get richer and the poor will no longer be poor. There will be investments to help take us forward, but not at the expense of our natural resources. Our rainforests and nature preserves will still be available to the people of the world to study and enjoy while our population centers take on the status and appearance befitting a wealthy nation. This is my promise to you. This is why I have led my forces to take action against a complacent, fat, and uncaring government which only thought to prevent the revolutions of the past at the expense of making real progress and a real difference in the lives of every citizen.”

The camera operator zoomed in closer to Francisco. “I’m pleased to announce that Suriname is about to become the world’s premier global banking haven. Several banks, with whom I have been working, have committed to relocate their assets and operations here in return for concessions that I have agreed to make. My first executive order is the establishment of new banking laws to ensure that the government won’t interfere in any international banking transaction between these banks and their customers anywhere in the world. Ever. I’m also pleased to announce that, beginning next week, a new factory will be built for the purpose of manufacturing and distributing some of the most advanced military weapons ever seen. Military arms will be one of our new industries, and we’ve partnered with a group that will be bringing this industry to us.”

The camera operator zoomed out so Carlos and the Legate could be clearly seen. “My fellow citizens, many of you are worried about the troops visible around the cities of Suriname. Rest assured that they are only there to ensure the smooth transition of power and to help establish the new governmental policies and procedures as quickly as possible, so everyone’s lives can return to normal. Over the next several hours, I’ll be in contact with our allies and with my fellow leaders in the region to explain the transition of power and to assure them of our peaceful intentions. This action is about progress and wealth for everyone, not about power for a few. My goal is to complete the transition and start working for you within a week, and I’ll keep all of you informed about the progress we’re making on your behalf. The sunset curfew will remain in effect, as will the communications blackout, until the transition is complete and normalcy has been restored. Please be patient, and rest assured that we’re working as quickly as possible for your benefit. I wish you all a pleasant evening.”

As the camera turned off, Francisco looked at Carlos. “I think that went well.”

“Yes it did. I almost believed it myself.”

Francisco laughed. Turning to the Legate, he asked. “Is everything ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes, Mr. President. The Sixth Cohort is taking care of securing the new banking center, and the other Cohorts are prepared to move out at first light to take care of the army.”

“Good luck, Legate.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

The former President of Suriname watched in silence from the corner of his old office, wondering what was going to happen to him next.

The U.S. Ambassador turned off the television when the snowy images returned, signaling that the broadcasting centers had been shut down again. He put down the remote control and looked over at his aide.

“What do you think about that?” the Ambassador asked.

“I think that there’s more going on than we ever realized, Mr. Ambassador.”

“Did you believe him?”

“No sir.”

“Me neither. Any chance Washington picked this up?”

“Only if Guyana, Brazil, or French Guiana picked it up and shared it with them.”

The Ambassador nodded, and the aide left the office. Technically, this was a purely internal matter and didn’t involve the United States or any of Suriname’s treaty partners. But something told him it would involve a great many nations soon. He got up from his desk and started pacing again.

In Georgetown, Guyana, the U.S. Ambassador there turned off his television and turned to look at his Chief of Staff. “What do you think?” he asked.

“Mr. Ambassador, I think that Suriname’s in real trouble. There have been reports of mercenaries consolidating somewhere along the Brazilian border, and if mercenaries are involved in this, then this Baptista fellow’s got something else planned altogether that doesn’t include making everyone in his country wealthy.”

Turning to one of his aides, the Ambassador asked, “Were you able to make a recording of the broadcast?”

“Yes, Sir. It recorded just fine.”

“Good. Forward a copy to the State Department immediately, as well as to our Embassies in French Guiana, Brazil, Venezuela, and Mexico.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The aide left the Ambassador’s office and went down the hall to the communications center. He sat down at his computer, typed in a command, and opened a scrambled line to the State Department’s secure uplink server. He inserted the disk of the broadcast he had just made and started uploading the video file. When the file finished uploading, he typed in a quick summary of the file contents and selected the recipients who were to receive copies. Then he closed the connection to the server, removed the disk, logged off the system, and left the communications center to inform the Ambassador that the broadcast had been forwarded as instructed.

At the State Department offices in Washington DC, the Assistant Undersecretary for South America, who had oversight for the northern half of the South American continent, was drinking coffee while reading over that day’s reports. Each Embassy in the region typically sent in a daily summary of activities, but for some reason, the Embassy in Paramaribo, Suriname had sent nothing for a couple of days. The Undersecretary was confused about this, and all attempts to contact the Embassy had failed.

The Undersecretary had just finished reading a report from the Embassy in Brazil when an alert popped up on his computer screen. Putting the report down, he looked at the screen and saw that a file had been uploaded to him from the Embassy in Georgetown, Guyana. The name of the file caught the Undersecretary’s attention: “Government Coup in Suriname.”

The Undersecretary clicked on the alert and opened the file. He watched the broadcast from the new President of Suriname with surprise and alarm. Well, this explains why we can’t reach the Embassy down there. He opened the folder on the local server and pulled up the analysis team’s notes on Suriname. He read through several of the position papers and reports, and he found no mention or indication of rebel activity in the area at all.

“How is that possible? How could there be a coup in a country that small without any warning? How could we not know about the rebel activity?

The Undersecretary knew that this information needed to be forwarded to his superiors quickly. If a revolution could happen without any of the U.S. Intelligence Agencies or the analysts knowing anything about it, it represented a serious situation to be addressed. He forwarded the file from the Georgetown, Guyana Embassy, along with several of the analysis team’s papers and reports, to his superiors and marked the information as urgent.

After the files had been sent, he picked up the phone and called the lead analyst for the region, who was also still in the office sorting through some new documents from Venezuela. “Come to my office for a minute,” he said when the analyst answered the phone.

“I’ll be right there, sir,” the analyst replied.

Two minutes later, the analyst walked into the Undersecretary’s office. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Did you know that there was a coup in Suriname today?” the Undersecretary asked.

“Yeah, right,” the analyst snorted, assuming that the Undersecretary was making a bad joke. When the Undersecretary just continued staring at the analyst without changing his expression, the analyst asked, “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” the Undersecretary replied, turning around his computer monitor and replaying the broadcast for the analyst.

When the broadcast was finished, the Undersecretary turned is monitor back around and asked, “Can you explain how a revolution could happen with no warning? Can you explain how we missed identifying any rebel activity in the area or identifying a threat to the Suriname government of any kind?”

“No, sir, I can’t,” the analyst replied, sounding alarmed.

“Well, I suggest you figure it out, because the Secretary’s going to want answers when he sees this, and it’s your butt on the line right now. Get your team back in here and figure out how you missed this, or I guarantee that the only job you’ll be able to get around here is as an apprentice janitor.”

“Yes, sir!” the analyst said, leaving the Undersecretary’s office. “How did I miss this?” he asked out loud as he ran back to his office to call his team members and tell them to get back to the office as soon as possible.