Janice's eyes widened when she saw who was seated around the large conference table. These were men who's names she'd heard on the radio and television, faces she'd seen on news networks and in online forums. She never thought that she'd ever see any of these people in real life, men who were powerful and influential. Men who were, for the most part, despotic, tyrannical thugs. But men who knew what they were about and knew how to do it.
This meeting was set up with the purpose of studying distribution methods for the new weapons being developed not far from where they were seated. But there were other purposes for this meeting as well. The men at the table had demanded to see the new successor as leader of the team, and they wanted a demonstration of the effects of the weapons they were acquiring. Interestingly, there was no discussion of money or what was expected in return for the supply of munitions.
Some of the men at the table openly stared at her, disbelief evident in their eyes. Others only glanced at her surreptitiously, as if trying to see her yet afraid of an outright breach of decorum. The feeling in the room when she entered, however, was one of surprised shock - and not in a pleasant way. She knew why this was - first, she was a female. Men - particularly powerful men - were often under the impression that women were weaker. This was further exacerbated by the fact that she was small - she actually preferred the term petite to small - and beautiful. She pushed her hair angrily behind her ear at that thought. Most men assumed that because a woman was beautiful she was not intelligent, ascribing intelligence with bad attitudes and ugly faces.
Well, she was about to disabuse them. Perhaps it was time for a demonstration of her own power.
She went through a mental checklist of things that were likely to impress these hardened and ruthless men. What would it take to get them to understand she was not to be trifled with... They were not going to be easily impressed by displays of servitude or opulence. Only something big and dramatic would grab their attention.
She turned and spoke to her brother, who stood like a doberman to the rear and left of her high-backed chair. She knew no one else could understand them, not using the language that so few could speak.
"I need something," she said. He tensed visibly, and the talking around the room silenced. "I need a demonstration. Please explain to these men what you are about to do at my bidding."
Her brother turned and, with a loud voice in English, said, "You are here at the invitation of our leader. You are being offered a chance to partake in a revolutionary new kind of warfare, one that will shift the balance of power in the world for decades. Not since the creation and subsequent USE of the atomic bomb has anything so powerful been devised. And this chance is being offered to you on one condition - absolute and total obedience to the leader. If you do not accept her generosity freely, you will be compelled. If you resist, you will be eliminated. Is that clear?"
The silence in the room was absolute.
Now that he had their attention, he turned on a projector. "Please note that the news networks are reporting the usual basic boring things. That is about to change."
The scene on the screen shifted. "This is one of our locally controlled cameras in a location you need not know. Note the harbor, where there are several military vessels at the dock. Several years ago, a small boat loaded with explosives approached ships similarly docked and blew themselves up. Little more than a bee stinging a bear, the USS Cole attack really served no purpose and furthered no agenda. This was because no one was paying attention - the attention grabber was ineffective because no one's attention was diverted. That changes now.
"Since today is the fifth day of the month, I will choose the fifth ship."
The vessel indicated immediately erupted in flames. There was no sound associated with this imagery, but the video presentation was clear. One minute there was a ship there - the next, it was a ball of flame. Scant moments later, the prow of the ship arced up in the sky as the stern sank slowly to the bottom. Men were diving overboard, while men on adjacent ships were running to man lifeboats and put out fires that had spread to their ships.
"Cute display," one of the warlords around the table said. "But you'd probably just staged that whole thing."
"I admit that is possible," John said. "Well, Ali, since you doubt, please choose another vessel."
Ali was stunned, but regained his composure quickly. "Since there are three letters in my name, I choose vessel number three."
Immediately the third vessel exploded into flame and just as quickly was sent to the bottom.
The remaining ships were anthills of activity then, deck hands cutting ropes and lines and trying to get the vessels away from the threat they could not see or understand. They would have a hard time of it with the ships they had once been tied to barring their egress from the killing zone. But sailors, like soldiers, are men of action, and when something unexpected happens the reaction is to move.
The men around the table looked truly frightened now.
Janice said to her brother, "Now get it on the news."
John turned to the men in the room and said, "Now, would you like some independent verification?"
The screen switched to CNN, which was displaying the CNN breaking news alert screen.
"Eyewitness accounts from the scene say that the ships were attacked with no warning. There was the sound of a rocket propelled grenade being launched, but it is unclear how such a small munition could cause so much damage. To recap, two vessels were blown away just seconds ago as they sat at berth here in the capital of Yemen. There is no official word yet on casualties from either the Yemeni government or the US Navy, but the ships appear to be total losses."
John muted the sound, but left the screen going with images from the burning oil slicks that were all that remained of two powerful warships.
Ali spoke, "If you are willing to destroy even US Naval vessels, then you have no loyalty or allegiance to the United States. To whom do you owe allegiance."
John waited just a moment, making sure that his voice was the only thing audible in the room.
"To her."
Janice stood. The men around realized what they had just seen. With a face more terrible than can be described, Janice turned to each of these tyrants.
"You think you are men of action, powerful men who control all they see. You are like babes at their mother's breast. I have all power over life or death. You will obey me, or you will die."
With that, she turned and left the room. John followed her and closed the door behind them.
In the stunned silence that followed, Ali spoke. "I will not be intimidated by this woman! She claims to be powerful, but that could have been faked. I am not convinced, and I will not swear loyalty to her."
The others remained silent.
Another door opened, and men wearing the yellow jumpsuits entered. One walked to the head of the table and said, "If you will please follow your escorts, you will be taken to where the next demonstration will occur."
The men left single file, each followed by an escort. They felt like guards, but they were completely unarmed. Ali was the last one to leave, and no one noticed when two men stepped out of a side corridor and grabbed him, pulling him down to the ground and binding him hand and foot. They carried him off to another corridor and out of sight.
The rest of the men were led to a comfortably apportioned room, one with large couches and a credenza stocked with drinks, fruits and vegetables, and other things to eat. Some of the men helped themselves, while others sat on the couches and put their heads in their hands, seemingly in deep thought. Truly, their world had just changed dramatically and quickly. Most men liked order that they could wrap their minds around. This new demonstration was of a world of chaos and power that they had never known...
One of the men, the one who had been sitting next to Ali, noticed that he was not present. "Where's Ali?" he asked of no one in particular.
"Probably in the restroom," one of the others responded.
At that moment, John walked into the room. "Please approach the window," he said. "You will find binoculars if you wish to use them."
There had been no window there previously, but a large shaft of light opened up along one wall - the entire wall was opening up lengthwise. Once it was opened about six inches, the motion stopped. The wall was about 12 inches thick, apparently of solid concrete. The men in the room all moved to the wall, where located in niches below the window were powerful binoculars.
"Please notice the vehicle parked across the canyon," John said. "This vehicle was acquired a few days ago - a donation, you might say."
The markings on the SUV indicated that this was the vehicle driven by the Garfield County Sheriff's department. It was the Bronco that Jake Trotter had been driving in pursuit of John, before he met with his untimely end.
Some of the men smiled, knowing both what they were about to see and what it was going to happen to.
A man walked into view, slightly to the left of the window so as not to block anyone's view. His voice carried over speakers set into the bunker - that's where the men now realized they were - as he described his actions.
He held up his rifle. It was a powerful bolt action rifle, the kind that was easily accessible and very accurate. The rifle had a large scope. Because it was bolt action, there was the possibility of only one shot being fired at a time. The shooter indicated that he was clearing the rifle. All of the men in the room noticed the familiar routine as he checked the breech and then inserted one bullet into the gun. He took aim through the scope, while his voice invited the men to turn their attention back to the vehicle.
As they did so, they noticed two men carrying a third. The men in the room recognized their erstwhile companion, Ali. He was not moving. The two men in yellow jumpsuits loaded him into the Bronco and got out of the way. Quickly. They were out of sight for about thirty seconds when Janice entered the room behind the men unnoticed to the men who were now watching Ali come back to his senses in the hot vehicle and struggle with his bonds.
Janice spoke into a small microphone mounted to an earpiece that was in her right ear, slightly covered by her auburn hair. "Ali, can you hear me?"
"Yes, you devil woman!" Ali screamed. "You don't know who I am! I am a powerful man! You have made a very, very bad choice! I will kill you myself!"
"All I asked is whether or not you could hear me."
"You listen here, you witch! Release me at ONCE! I demand..." She cut off the sound with a gesture to John. Some of the men had turned to watch her in this exchange, but most felt more comfortable looking out the window.
"You will now see what happens to those who oppose the team," she said quietly. She put on ear protection, as did John. Some of the men had just time to think about why she would need ear protection from something that would take place from so far away. They raised their binoculars back to their eyes as the rifleman waited for the brief gust of wind to pass. The men in the room could all see Ali thrashing convulsively now, seeking any kind of escape from this trap he'd found himself in.
There was a sharp crack from the rifle, and immediately thereafter the Bronco just disintegrated. It was gone. One minute it was there, then a flash of light, and it was just gone. There were not even any smoking, charred remains. The ground had become blackened, the only evidence belying the fact that there had once been a vehicle sitting there that had met a very bad end. That, and the remaining ringing in people's ears from the sound coming from the explosion, which had been deafening.
The men in the room slowly lowered their binoculars and almost as one turned to face the leader of the team. Also almost as one, these powerful men went to their knees and swore absolute fealty to the leader. Janice went to the men one by one, almost tenderly taking their faces in her elegant and graceful feminine hands, and looked them in they eye. "You belong to me, now," she said, with warmth, but with terrible resolution. "I will not forget it. Nor should you. You have seen the penalty for disobedience. Your reward will be to live and serve me."
The men pressed their foreheads into the carpet before her feet. Some actually wept, overcome at the prospect. But whether the tears were of devotion or regret, none could have said.
This meeting was set up with the purpose of studying distribution methods for the new weapons being developed not far from where they were seated. But there were other purposes for this meeting as well. The men at the table had demanded to see the new successor as leader of the team, and they wanted a demonstration of the effects of the weapons they were acquiring. Interestingly, there was no discussion of money or what was expected in return for the supply of munitions.
Some of the men at the table openly stared at her, disbelief evident in their eyes. Others only glanced at her surreptitiously, as if trying to see her yet afraid of an outright breach of decorum. The feeling in the room when she entered, however, was one of surprised shock - and not in a pleasant way. She knew why this was - first, she was a female. Men - particularly powerful men - were often under the impression that women were weaker. This was further exacerbated by the fact that she was small - she actually preferred the term petite to small - and beautiful. She pushed her hair angrily behind her ear at that thought. Most men assumed that because a woman was beautiful she was not intelligent, ascribing intelligence with bad attitudes and ugly faces.
Well, she was about to disabuse them. Perhaps it was time for a demonstration of her own power.
She went through a mental checklist of things that were likely to impress these hardened and ruthless men. What would it take to get them to understand she was not to be trifled with... They were not going to be easily impressed by displays of servitude or opulence. Only something big and dramatic would grab their attention.
She turned and spoke to her brother, who stood like a doberman to the rear and left of her high-backed chair. She knew no one else could understand them, not using the language that so few could speak.
"I need something," she said. He tensed visibly, and the talking around the room silenced. "I need a demonstration. Please explain to these men what you are about to do at my bidding."
Her brother turned and, with a loud voice in English, said, "You are here at the invitation of our leader. You are being offered a chance to partake in a revolutionary new kind of warfare, one that will shift the balance of power in the world for decades. Not since the creation and subsequent USE of the atomic bomb has anything so powerful been devised. And this chance is being offered to you on one condition - absolute and total obedience to the leader. If you do not accept her generosity freely, you will be compelled. If you resist, you will be eliminated. Is that clear?"
The silence in the room was absolute.
Now that he had their attention, he turned on a projector. "Please note that the news networks are reporting the usual basic boring things. That is about to change."
The scene on the screen shifted. "This is one of our locally controlled cameras in a location you need not know. Note the harbor, where there are several military vessels at the dock. Several years ago, a small boat loaded with explosives approached ships similarly docked and blew themselves up. Little more than a bee stinging a bear, the USS Cole attack really served no purpose and furthered no agenda. This was because no one was paying attention - the attention grabber was ineffective because no one's attention was diverted. That changes now.
"Since today is the fifth day of the month, I will choose the fifth ship."
The vessel indicated immediately erupted in flames. There was no sound associated with this imagery, but the video presentation was clear. One minute there was a ship there - the next, it was a ball of flame. Scant moments later, the prow of the ship arced up in the sky as the stern sank slowly to the bottom. Men were diving overboard, while men on adjacent ships were running to man lifeboats and put out fires that had spread to their ships.
"Cute display," one of the warlords around the table said. "But you'd probably just staged that whole thing."
"I admit that is possible," John said. "Well, Ali, since you doubt, please choose another vessel."
Ali was stunned, but regained his composure quickly. "Since there are three letters in my name, I choose vessel number three."
Immediately the third vessel exploded into flame and just as quickly was sent to the bottom.
The remaining ships were anthills of activity then, deck hands cutting ropes and lines and trying to get the vessels away from the threat they could not see or understand. They would have a hard time of it with the ships they had once been tied to barring their egress from the killing zone. But sailors, like soldiers, are men of action, and when something unexpected happens the reaction is to move.
The men around the table looked truly frightened now.
Janice said to her brother, "Now get it on the news."
John turned to the men in the room and said, "Now, would you like some independent verification?"
The screen switched to CNN, which was displaying the CNN breaking news alert screen.
"Eyewitness accounts from the scene say that the ships were attacked with no warning. There was the sound of a rocket propelled grenade being launched, but it is unclear how such a small munition could cause so much damage. To recap, two vessels were blown away just seconds ago as they sat at berth here in the capital of Yemen. There is no official word yet on casualties from either the Yemeni government or the US Navy, but the ships appear to be total losses."
John muted the sound, but left the screen going with images from the burning oil slicks that were all that remained of two powerful warships.
Ali spoke, "If you are willing to destroy even US Naval vessels, then you have no loyalty or allegiance to the United States. To whom do you owe allegiance."
John waited just a moment, making sure that his voice was the only thing audible in the room.
"To her."
Janice stood. The men around realized what they had just seen. With a face more terrible than can be described, Janice turned to each of these tyrants.
"You think you are men of action, powerful men who control all they see. You are like babes at their mother's breast. I have all power over life or death. You will obey me, or you will die."
With that, she turned and left the room. John followed her and closed the door behind them.
In the stunned silence that followed, Ali spoke. "I will not be intimidated by this woman! She claims to be powerful, but that could have been faked. I am not convinced, and I will not swear loyalty to her."
The others remained silent.
Another door opened, and men wearing the yellow jumpsuits entered. One walked to the head of the table and said, "If you will please follow your escorts, you will be taken to where the next demonstration will occur."
The men left single file, each followed by an escort. They felt like guards, but they were completely unarmed. Ali was the last one to leave, and no one noticed when two men stepped out of a side corridor and grabbed him, pulling him down to the ground and binding him hand and foot. They carried him off to another corridor and out of sight.
The rest of the men were led to a comfortably apportioned room, one with large couches and a credenza stocked with drinks, fruits and vegetables, and other things to eat. Some of the men helped themselves, while others sat on the couches and put their heads in their hands, seemingly in deep thought. Truly, their world had just changed dramatically and quickly. Most men liked order that they could wrap their minds around. This new demonstration was of a world of chaos and power that they had never known...
One of the men, the one who had been sitting next to Ali, noticed that he was not present. "Where's Ali?" he asked of no one in particular.
"Probably in the restroom," one of the others responded.
At that moment, John walked into the room. "Please approach the window," he said. "You will find binoculars if you wish to use them."
There had been no window there previously, but a large shaft of light opened up along one wall - the entire wall was opening up lengthwise. Once it was opened about six inches, the motion stopped. The wall was about 12 inches thick, apparently of solid concrete. The men in the room all moved to the wall, where located in niches below the window were powerful binoculars.
"Please notice the vehicle parked across the canyon," John said. "This vehicle was acquired a few days ago - a donation, you might say."
The markings on the SUV indicated that this was the vehicle driven by the Garfield County Sheriff's department. It was the Bronco that Jake Trotter had been driving in pursuit of John, before he met with his untimely end.
Some of the men smiled, knowing both what they were about to see and what it was going to happen to.
A man walked into view, slightly to the left of the window so as not to block anyone's view. His voice carried over speakers set into the bunker - that's where the men now realized they were - as he described his actions.
He held up his rifle. It was a powerful bolt action rifle, the kind that was easily accessible and very accurate. The rifle had a large scope. Because it was bolt action, there was the possibility of only one shot being fired at a time. The shooter indicated that he was clearing the rifle. All of the men in the room noticed the familiar routine as he checked the breech and then inserted one bullet into the gun. He took aim through the scope, while his voice invited the men to turn their attention back to the vehicle.
As they did so, they noticed two men carrying a third. The men in the room recognized their erstwhile companion, Ali. He was not moving. The two men in yellow jumpsuits loaded him into the Bronco and got out of the way. Quickly. They were out of sight for about thirty seconds when Janice entered the room behind the men unnoticed to the men who were now watching Ali come back to his senses in the hot vehicle and struggle with his bonds.
Janice spoke into a small microphone mounted to an earpiece that was in her right ear, slightly covered by her auburn hair. "Ali, can you hear me?"
"Yes, you devil woman!" Ali screamed. "You don't know who I am! I am a powerful man! You have made a very, very bad choice! I will kill you myself!"
"All I asked is whether or not you could hear me."
"You listen here, you witch! Release me at ONCE! I demand..." She cut off the sound with a gesture to John. Some of the men had turned to watch her in this exchange, but most felt more comfortable looking out the window.
"You will now see what happens to those who oppose the team," she said quietly. She put on ear protection, as did John. Some of the men had just time to think about why she would need ear protection from something that would take place from so far away. They raised their binoculars back to their eyes as the rifleman waited for the brief gust of wind to pass. The men in the room could all see Ali thrashing convulsively now, seeking any kind of escape from this trap he'd found himself in.
There was a sharp crack from the rifle, and immediately thereafter the Bronco just disintegrated. It was gone. One minute it was there, then a flash of light, and it was just gone. There were not even any smoking, charred remains. The ground had become blackened, the only evidence belying the fact that there had once been a vehicle sitting there that had met a very bad end. That, and the remaining ringing in people's ears from the sound coming from the explosion, which had been deafening.
The men in the room slowly lowered their binoculars and almost as one turned to face the leader of the team. Also almost as one, these powerful men went to their knees and swore absolute fealty to the leader. Janice went to the men one by one, almost tenderly taking their faces in her elegant and graceful feminine hands, and looked them in they eye. "You belong to me, now," she said, with warmth, but with terrible resolution. "I will not forget it. Nor should you. You have seen the penalty for disobedience. Your reward will be to live and serve me."
The men pressed their foreheads into the carpet before her feet. Some actually wept, overcome at the prospect. But whether the tears were of devotion or regret, none could have said.
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