Pinnacle Event

26

She looked uncomfortable as her press secretary made brief introductory remarks to the hastily assembled news conference. She had not left governing a huge state to do this. It was borderline dishonest and unethical, but the President had persuaded her that sometimes for the greater good, temporarily, some amount of truth could be withheld.

“Last night I ordered a no-notice operation to exercise sovereignty over our borders, specifically, the cargoes crossing our borders.

“Congress has, for years, insisted that the Customs and Border Protection agency, CBP, inspect every container and shipment coming into the United States for drugs and other contraband. That is what we are now doing as of this morning.

“This is the first in a series of no-notice exercises that I will be ordering in the next few weeks, testing each of the components of DHS, testing their ability to surge in an emergency. I want to be able to identify any remaining weak spots or deficiencies we still have so that I can report on them to my successor, whom I assume will be taking office on or about January twentieth. Thank you.”

With that the Secretary of Homeland Security left the podium without taking questions, but questions were thrown at her as she walked out of the room, questions she ignored.

Johann Potgeiter returned to his suite just after midnight, only slightly tipsy from the spectacular dinner party Robert Coetzee had thrown for his colleagues at his villa in the New Territories. Clearly, Coetzee had been spending a lot of the Trustees’ funds on living expenses.

He did not begrudge Coetzee the extravagance. Indeed, he was planning a very nice, new life for himself very soon. The day had gone well. What had started out as a potential disaster with the Israeli woman revealing the plan, had turned into their acceptance that Taiwan had probably ordered the hits on their predecessors, and a consensus the best path was to forget about all of that. They had agreed to build a high-end retirement village and health-care facility in Australia, with priority given to South Africans, white South Africans, who would be heavily subsidized and given every comfort. A good day’s work had been followed by a good night’s dinner and drinking. Suspicions had been eased. They were all good chums now.

Before he crawled into the bed, he needed to report in. He would have preferred to send a text message, but the old man was old school and would want to talk, so he extracted the German E-Plus mobile from within the lining of his computer bag. They had put a compartment in the bag, lined so it did not show on X-rays, big enough to hold his German identity of Wolfe Baidermann, his mobile, his passport, some credit cards, and euros.

He had memorized the number of the proxy, the phone switch in Los Angeles. When he dialed it, anyone tracking calls would see a German mobile somewhere in Hong Kong, using data roaming, contacting a number in America. What they would not see, was that as soon as the connection was made in California, the call bounced out from a Los Angeles area code 310 number to another phone in area code 236.

“I’ve been waiting for your report,” the voice on the other end said.

“I could not break away sooner. It would have raised suspicion.”

“Was the meeting a success or do we have problems?”

“Both. The Taiwan story worked.”

“Then why do we have problems?”

“Because they know. They know about the test, the sale, Madagascar, and Pretoria.”

“Don’t say anymore,” the distant voice scolded.

For a moment, there was only the sound of breathing on the connection. Then the distant voice resumed, “Come to me. We may need to act sooner than we planned and I will need you to help with my part of it. You have your extraction planned?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “I can be there in three days.”

“Good.” The connection was severed.

He set the alarm for five o’clock and then let the jet lag take him. Five hours would be enough sleep. And when he woke, he would become Wolfe Baidermann and begin his next journey.