Mark of Evil (11 page)

Luxendorf wasn’t in his office at Leiden University, so Pack left his name and cell number with the secretary. Later that day Pack received a callback. It was the professor.

Pack was in no mood for subtlety. “You don’t know me, but I know who you are. I am a former United States government agent, and I think your life is in danger. It has to do with your sensitive position with ICANN.”

Luxendorf fell into a good thirty seconds of silence. The only thing audible on the other end was his breathing. Finally he spoke. “You mentioned something about my ‘sensitive position’?”

“I did,” Pack replied.

Luxendorf made a noise, like he was trying to clear his throat. “Can you give me specifics?”

“I am talking,” Pack said, “about your little club.”

There was a nervous titter at the other end. “Oh, you mean my Internet poker club with a few of my ICANN associates.”

“No. Not that,” Pack responded. “I’m talking about your membership in the elite Club of Seven.”

For a second or two Pack thought the line had gone dead, because the breathing at the other end seemed to have stopped.

Finally Luxendorf began to probe. “Are you with the Dutch police?”

“No.”

“Who are you?”

“I can’t elaborate. But I can tell you that you have something in your possession that certain people want to get their hands on very badly. They are willing to take drastic measures to obtain it.”

Pack was convinced that Fin Luxendorf knew exactly what he meant. The law professor became agitated. “Whoever you are, this is bordering on harassment, which is illegal here in the Netherlands.”

Pack was unperturbed. “The law will be of little use to you, Dr. Luxendorf,” he replied calmly.

“I’m calling the Dutch authorities.”

“I already did,” Pack shot back.

“Give me a name.”

“I can give you the names of the investigating detective with the Dutch police, and his commanding officer as well. But that won’t do you any good.”

“And exactly why is that?”

“Because I contacted them two days ago when I arrived here in the Netherlands. Yesterday they informed me that they could do nothing. They only offered to turn the whole affair over to the Internet Security Agency of the Global Alliance. If they do, I can guarantee what will happen.”

“And that is what?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Pack could tell Luxendorf was mulling it over on the other end. Finally the professor said, “Give me your Allfone number. Let me consider this. I’ll call you back.”

“Not to rush you, but you’d better make it quick. We’d like to keep you alive.”

U.S. CAPITOL BUILDING

Washington, D.C.

In the Capitol Building caucus room a small tangle of senators huddled together, arguing in senatorial style—stopping just short of outright anger, yet standing toe-to-toe and raising the ante with political threats uttered clearly in “outside voices.” It was the preeminent issue of the day: what to do about the stonewalling posture of President Hewbright. He had consistently refused to acknowledge or implement the Senate’s ratification of the Global Alliance Treaty. The reason for the adoption of the treaty in the first place was clear to everyone: a white-knuckled fear of economic collapse if the U.S. failed to join the new world government. As taxes in the United States skyrocketed from a last-ditch attempt to pay for the increased number of nationalized programs, every business in America—from the small mom-and-pop ones to the huge multinational companies—kept cutting back, creating staggering unemployment rates that now held at twenty-six percent.

This, coupled with the loss of America’s international credit standing, fueled the fear that the United States could no longer hold its head up in the world. America was bankrupt, and in quiet voices around Washington the policy wonks predicted a total collapse into chaos—and not just the kind of riots that had already broken out in Chicago, Detroit, Los Angeles, Dallas, and Philadelphia, but something much worse. Violent revolution and overthrow, if not from within, then surely with the prodding of enemies from without.

The majority leader in the Senate, Senator Atchison, had a personal dislike for President Hewbright anyway, but now he was furious at Hewbright’s opposition to the treaty. Of course the majority leader knew the new Global Alliance was filled with forces that hated America—but he’d always been a firm believer in keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. That’s what he kept telling himself and his colleagues, at least, even though he treated Hewbright as the real enemy and the Global Alliance as the true friend.

Now that President Hewbright had recently given his public defense to the American people for his refusal to allow the U.S. to join the Global Alliance despite the Senate vote to the contrary, it was Showdown at the OK Corral, Washington style.

Majority Leader Atchison was waving his finger in the air as he addressed his small group of fellow senators. “The survival of our nation depends on what we do here. If we do not take this step against Hewbright, we will go down in American history as the most despised of all traitors and cowards.”

“And some of my constituents would say,” another senator intoned with a troubled look, “that this treaty will itself cause the
end
of American history.”

“Then why did you bother voting for it?” the majority leader blustered.

“You know exactly why: the pressure brought to bear on every one of us. And I come from a battleground state, come next election.”

A junior senator jumped in. “It has to start with the House. That’s what the Constitution requires.”

Another senator quickly countered in a sardonic tone, “Constitution? Now help me out here—which document is that?”

A few of them couldn’t help chuckling nervously. But it died quickly as the stone-cold realization settled over them that they could be sounding the death knell of constitutional rule.

Atchison raised both hands as he tried to close the discussion. “True. It has to start with the House of Representatives. Impeachment of a president always starts there, but it doesn’t end there. It ends right here, with his trial in the Senate. So we need both chambers racked and stacked and in a straight line on this. Which is why we need to hear the latest dispatch from the special envoy of the Global Alliance. Otherwise known as the Senate’s number one unregistered lobbyist.”

“Speak of the devil,” one of them whispered and motioned to the other end of the crowded room where a smiling, straight-backed, middle-aged Jessica Tulrude stood confidently shaking hands with several senators.

More chuckling from within the group.

“I think our petition is about to be answered,” Majority Leader Atchison announced with a smile. “And by a former president of the United States, no less.”

Tulrude was shaking hands with a senate staffer, but her eyes simultaneously wandered over the room until she spotted her target. In an instant she was striding right over to the majority leader. She gave him a crushing handshake and excused herself from the rest of the huddle as she whisked him over to a quiet corner.

“Breaking news,” she said. “I’ve just finished a meeting with the Speaker of the House. I think we’ve finally got sufficient votes in the House of Representatives to file articles of impeachment against Hewbright.”

“So it’s game on,” Senator Atchison replied.

There was a smug look of certainty on Tulrude’s face. “Gird your loins. This is going to be a kicking and screaming bout. Extreme cagematch fighting. No Queensberry rules.”

“Jessica, I didn’t know you were such a fight fan,” the senator said with a laugh.

“Politics . . . extreme fighting . . . ,” she said with a chuckle. “They’re both blood sports, aren’t they?”

The majority leader eyed her closely now, knowing the rules of quid pro quo. “And if impeachment is achieved in the House, then in return I suppose you still are looking for—”

“Full Senate support,” she cut in, “for me to be appointed as the permanent world regent over Global Alliance Region One—the U.S.A., Canada, and Mexico. The other two nations are already favorably inclined to appoint me. I just need the home team here in the U.S. Senate to back me as well.”

“You know how this works,” the senator said. “No one’s squeaky clean. Not really. It’s just a matter of deciding whether the dirt is manageable.”

Tulrude was nodding. She tried to muster a smile.

“Now, there is,” the senator said with a tone of reflection, “still that matter of a dead president. And all those rumors about your complicity as vice president spread over AmeriNews. Whispers about your personal physician overdosing President Corland during treatment for his medical condition. Mind you, I don’t believe a word of it, Jessica.”

Tulrude flamed into a controlled burn. “Of course not. Come on. He didn’t die until months later. In a nursing home. His blackouts had been getting worse. Let’s get real.”

“And then,” the senator added, “there’s the apparent suicide of your physician, which conveniently stopped any further criminal investigation dead in its tracks. By that I mean convenient for you, of course. That’s what some people are saying.”

Jessica Tulrude’s reputation for controlling her fury was being
tested. There was a little twitch to her mouth, and the skin over her face tightened. “Those rumors about my personal doctor when I was vice president are old, tired news. I can’t control the naysayers. What’s important is that AmeriNews is an ulcer on the skin of the American media. I think it’s high time to cut them out like a wart. As a news service it’s been on life support ever since the disappearance of all of the right-wing Jesus freaks, including the crazy Jordan family that used to run it. AmeriNews is simply a dangerous influence. A journalistic atrocity. The American people desire better.”

Majority Leader Atchison held out his hand to seal the deal with Tulrude. “That’s a discussion for another day. Today we have a bigger mission: the beginning of the end for President Hank Hewbright and his dangerous, self-righteous presidency.”

FIFTEEN

LEIDEN UNIVERSITY

Leiden, The Netherlands

Something was wrong. Pack McHenry felt it in his gut. He glanced at his Allfone watch to check the time. He stood in the glass-enclosed vestibule outside the law school auditorium where Professor Luxendorf’s next class, the Law of Internet Technology, was scheduled to begin in five minutes. His students were already starting to parade into the class. Pack wondered if Luxendorf would make it to their agreed rendezvous. When the professor had called Pack back, he’d said yes, he would meet with him, but he insisted that it be a very public place. Specifically, outside the law school lecture hall after one of his classes. He’d invited Pack to come early and sit through the class if he liked. Pack had taken him up on the offer.

The former CIA clandestine operations chief ran his fingers through a few unruly strands in his salt-and-pepper hair, then checked the time again. Students now streamed into the classroom in droves. But no Professor Luxendorf. Pack touched the security imprint icon on the face of his Allfone and spoke into it. The voice audiogram verification flashed
Voice ready
.

Pack spoke into his watch. “Please video call Dragon Lady.”

It rang twice, and then the face of his wife, Victoria—a classic platinum blond and still beautiful at age fifty-two—flashed onto the dial of his Allfone. She smiled. “I see you’re still using that terrible speed-dial name for me. Pack, dear,
reeeeally
. . .”

“Honey, we may have a problem. Are you somewhere near Luxendorf’s house?”

Victoria was already on it. “When I didn’t get confirmation from you ten minutes ago that the meeting was in progress, I drove over here. I’m just pulling up in front of his little cottage right now. Lots of pretty tulips in the front garden, by the way. Give me a sec.”

Victoria’s image was replaced by the words
Video off
. A few minutes went by before her face appeared again. She whispered, barely audible. “I’m inside. I zapped the digital lock on his front door. My keypad meter tells me that someone eventually got in through the lock before me, but it was someone who didn’t know the code.”

“Oh?”

“The lock memory says that they tried multiple variations before they hit the correct code. Probably using a portable clue randomizer. These guys weren’t here just to steal a big-screen web TV or heist the silverware, that’s for sure. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“Be careful, Vicky.”

“Always. Just remember, dear, I have that innocent, helpless look that always fools the bad guys. But I’ve also got my semiautomatic with me. And as you will recall, at the shooting range, between the two of us, I’m the better—”

She stopped talking. Pack tensed and began to walk farther away from the lecture hall, which was now filled to capacity but with no lecturer, as the din from student conversation reached a dull roar. “What is it, Vicky?”

“They’ve sacked the place. Stuff all over. I have to find out where Luxendorf was hiding it.”