The Return of Elliott Eastman (5 page)

Chapter Ten

Steve Crawford and Silas Woodford, two of Elliott’s long time warriors, waited patiently inside a forest green Ford Expedition watching for any movement outside an enormous walled and gated mansion that overlooked the Hudson River.

“Place looks like a fortress,” Silas commented.

“Did you expect something less? Don’t forget this guy is the CEO of Capital One.”

“Yeah, yeah, big deal. I’m just saying it looks like more than a two-man job.”

“Piece of cake,” Steve replied lowering the pair of field glasses from his eyes. “From what I’m able to see it looks like one guard with a dog is all that patrols the grounds, and the electronic surveillance system was disabled this morning by a fake UPS delivery man.”

“We’re a quarter mile away and it’s starting to get dark. Are you sure that’s all we’re up against?” countered Silas.

Steve gave him a withering look and said, “When I say I’m sure, I’m sure. Have you got the iPad 12?”

Silas patted a back pack in front of him resting on the floor of the vehicle.

“We’d better get moving,” Steve continued. “The intelligence we were given indicates George Hearthstone is a creature of habit. He always pours himself a double scotch at exactly 5:30 and sits out on the patio reading the Wall Street Journal.”

Exiting the vehicle the two men set their watches. Steve shouldered a heavy rifle case while Silas checked the batteries on the iPad 12 for the third time in the last two hours.

Fifteen minutes later they were kneeling in the shadows of a towering Black Oak against the ivy covered wall of the palatial mansion.

“Okay,” Steve whispered handing Silas a rifle with silencer and scope. “You’ve got four darts. Take out the guard first and then the dog. This stuff isn’t lethal. It’s a combination tranquilizer and muscle relaxer. It will take them down instantly but leave them still able to see and hear. Don’t miss. Take your shot at exactly 5:36 and I’ll take care of the main target at the same time. Hop the wall and meet me at the rear porch. And take care not to damage the iPad 12.”

“Roger that. No one else around?”

“No, his wife is at a private jewelry auction in Manhattan and will stay at their townhouse in the city. Hearthstone’s lady friend doesn’t arrive here until 8:30. Let’s move.”

A few minutes later Silas, peered over the wall to find the guard and dog a hundred yards away across a vast expanse of lawn, strolling leisurely along a garden path. He checked his watch and eighty eight seconds later, with a sound like a human exhaling, sent two darts at the targets. The guard fell heavily into a rose bush while the dog staggered a few paces and fell on the lawn. Instantly Silas was over the wall and moving like a shadow across the grass.

Meanwhile, Steve sighted carefully and squeezed the trigger. The dart struck George Hearthstone in the center of his back. He spilled his drink and slumped heavily to one side of his chair. The two attackers met at the rear patio of the mansion and lowered Hearthstone from his chair until he was lying on his back looking up at them. What the CEO saw was two men gazing down at him dressed in army camouflage suits and black stocking cap hoods. The fear, evident in the CEO’s eyes, became even more palpable when he lost control of his bladder.

“Pretty tough guy when he’s charging little old ladies 27% interest, but a little different when his world is violated,” Crawford whispered.

“That’s a shame,” Silas chimed in. “You probably ruined your nice seersucker suit.”

Silas pulled the iPad 12 from his knapsack and pressed the on button while Crawford continued speaking.

“You’re George Hearthstone,” he said removing a photo from his pocket and comparing it with the face of the man lying on the patio.

“Yep. Now we’re going to show you some photos on our neat little tablet computer here.”

Silas leaned over and held the iPad 12 about a foot from the terrified face. As he pressed down on a button at the end of a cable that extended from the computer, a picture flashed on the screen.

“This is you having dinner with a friend at the Saint Marks Hotel in San Francisco,” Silas commented. “You probably told your wife it was a business trip. Nice looking dish too, I might add.”

George Hearthstone’s eyes widened.

Silas pressed down on the clicker.

“This is you and the dish heading upstairs to your room.”

The clicker sounded again.

“This is you and the dish tearing at each others’ clothes in the hotel room. Yes, it’s the wonder of modern technology. Slip a little eye ball camera under the door and you’ve instantly got an X-rated movie.”

Silas hit the clicker again.

“This is you having breakfast the next morning, and that’s me sitting at the table next to you.”

Again the clicker sounded.

“That’s you leaving your office, and that’s me cruising by you on the moped. I hate those damn things. Not a motorcycle or a bike, don’t you agree?”

Silas fell silent for a moment while Crawford tucked the handheld back in his knapsack.

“The point is Mr. Hearthstone,” Silas continued, “you’re going to give a speech to your board explaining how you’ve gotten wind of the fact that other credit card companies are going to reduce their rates to 7%. They’re going to steal millions and millions of customers away from you unless you act first. You will do this, correct?”

Crawford reached down, grasped the CEO by his hair and nodded his head up and down for him.

“Great, I thought you’d agree. You’re going to do right by the American people and stop charging them usurious rates. If you don’t, then these and many other photos are going to be sent anonymously to your wife. If that doesn’t work, you will see me again. It doesn’t matter where. Maybe on a moped in the street or in the lobby of an office building or maybe we’ll have breakfast together again. The point is I can get close to you. Then all it takes is a slight pin prick, something you’ll hardly even feel, and you’ll be dead in thirty seconds. Do you understand?”

“Settle down tiger,” Crawford said. “Remember he can’t move.”

Silas stood for a moment looking down at the CEO while Steve Crawford moved off across the lawn. “I’m tempted to give you a few broken ribs, but I won’t kick a man when he’s down. Remember, if you don’t do as you’ve been told you’re a dead man, and that’s a guarantee.”

Chapter Eleven

Elliott’s chauffer held the door for him as he climbed in.

“Where to sir?” the immaculately attired chauffer asked.

“Ninety nine eighty eight Fort Hunt Road, Alexandria, the home of General Bob Gates.”

“Yes sir.”

Elliott leaned back in his seat as the limousine eased away from the curb and thought about the meeting with the President. It had been thorough and clear cut. Elliott knew the President. He was a consummate politician and he wanted desperately to be re-elected. If he refused the proposal it would mean he was held under the sway of the banking industry to a greater degree than Elliott believed. On the other hand, if he agreed to the proposal it was tantamount to declaring war on the banking industry. Elliott sighed. He was glad he wasn’t the President. On the other hand, if Paul White chose the proper course, Elliott stood ready to throw his considerable weight behind him. Elliott felt he knew Paul well. They had come up through the congressional ranks together and had fought very similar battles on the way up. Paul was a good man whose conscience often weighed heavily in his decision making. Elliott hoped such was the case again.

Suddenly a sharp stab of pain pierced the Master Sergeant’s lower right side. He winced and gasped in pain. The chauffer noted the contorted expression on the former senator’s face and asked, “Is everything okay sir?”

“Yes,” Elliott replied weakly, “it’s just indigestion.”

Twenty minutes later the limo pulled up in front of a large stately two story colonial home with a fine view of the Potomac. A widow’s walk ran across the length of the roof and a covered balcony stood over the front door. The home had been built during World War I to house Naval Commander Admiral Fightin’ Joe Johnson and his family. After Joe’s death his heirs neglected it, and the grand mansion had fallen into a state of disrepair. Then Robert Gates bought the property and began a project to lovingly restore the building to its former grandeur.

The front door opened and General Robert Gates stepped out, briefcase in hand and a heavy coat over one arm. A stiff breeze blew in from the sea.

Once seated inside the car the old friends shook hands, greeting each other warmly.

“Good to see you again Bob,” Elliott said. “Ready to go to war again?”

“Yes, from what you mentioned over the phone I must admit I’m quite intrigued.”

The two men had often sided together, with Bob Gates as the Secretary of Defense and Elliott as a ranking member of the Senate, to fight military cost overruns and waste as well as attempting to eliminate costly and outdated military programs.

“This time were going to go for the whole enchilada,” Elliott said. “Along with other efforts that have been initiated, we could have this country back on track in no time.”

“Any read on how Secretary of Defense Holland might respond to what you’re going to propose?” Bob asked.

“I’m not sure but I’m hoping a little pressure in the right places, especially from the most respected former Secretary of Defense in history like you and an old senate war horse like me, will make him listen.”

“You’re too generous,” Robert Gates replied. “I merely did my job.”

“And shook up the whole war department like no one has in the last fifty years.”

“From what I know of Bruce Holland he seems to be a thoughtful, concerned and well meaning gentleman,” General Gates observed.

“My thoughts exactly, which is why I think the time is right for us to approach him with these ideas. What have we got to lose? Think about it Bob. We’re just a couple of old men. How much time do you think we have left? Ten, maybe fifteen years before we’re just sitting in our rocking chairs at the old folk’s home. We have a chance to change the course and fate of this country. I’ve had a team of nine of the best economists I could find put together a very detailed outline. I think with a little persuasion Bruce Holland will see the light.”

The limo stopped at the guard entrance to the pentagon where a soldier inspected the ID’s and passes of the two men. A moment later, he saluted them briskly and they were allowed entry into the most secure military base in the world.

A short while later they were seated at a table in the private office of the Secretary of Defense, Bruce Holland.

“Good to see you Bruce,” Bob Gates said as they shook hands.

“Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, Mr. Secretary,” Elliott said.

“The pleasure is mine gentlemen,” Bruce responded. “Based on our initial conversation I’ve asked Dick Henghold to sit in. He is the acting director of the Office of Management and Budget.”

The men shook hands.

“Now, how can I help you?” Bruce asked.

Elliot studied the man for a moment. He was young for the position, just in his mid-fifties, but a polished war veteran who understood the nature of command as well as the plight of the men on the ground. He had a reputation as a thoughtful decision maker. He wore his uniform well and was a credit to the armed services.

“Would you be so kind as to brief the general?” Bob said nodding in Elliott’s direction.

Elliott dove right in. “As you know General Holland, the economy is in shambles, unemployment is fifteen percent, foreclosures are at a record pace and personal bankruptcies are soaring. The average Joe is hurting and has been for some time. It’s time for those of us that have the vision and the power to bring about change. I want you to know that what we’re about to put forth to you is not a single proposal. This is a multi-pronged attack. It’s what I like to call the ‘War on the Deficit’. I have it from a very trusted source that all the major banks are going to lower the interest rates on their credit cards to 7% for the next three years, thus providing a source of badly needed stimulus to the economy.”

“Really,” Bruce said. “That must have taken some arm twisting.”

“Arm twisting and then some,” Elliott replied with a smile. “Also a team of lawyers, at my behest, has approached the SEC with a proposal for a new source of tax revenue that should generate trillions of dollars in a few years. Sam Goldman, the Chairman of the SEC backs the idea enthusiastically.”

“Could you expand on that please?” General Holland asked leaning forward in his chair.

“It’s a small fee imposed on stock, commodities, futures and derivatives contracts. The experts figure it could generate 1.8 billion dollars a day and will fall most heavily on speculators and flash traders. Just the people we want to hit rather than the average Joe. But there is another aspect to this campaign against the deficit, and that’s where you come in. I’ve asked some experts to compile some data. It’s only a dozen pages or so, and I must admit it’s some very boring reading. I’ll summarize it for you. Out of 1,100 military bases we have around the world there are upwards of 400 to 600 bases that could be shut down at a savings of 600 billion dollars a year. For instance, one base in Saudi Arabia, one in Diego Garcia, one in the Philippines, along with our carrier fleets in the region are more than sufficient to protect our interests in the Indian Ocean theatre. Yet we have over a hundred and fifty bases and two hundred thousand men and women of our armed forces and contractors deployed there. We send $500 million dollars a year to Pakistan, $1.8 billion to Egypt and another one billion to the Saudi’s. It’s all detailed in the summary here. All told, the savings could be approximately 400 billion dollars a year.”

Dick Henghold laughed. “You’ll never get Congress to pass cuts of that size.”

Elliott gave the director of the Office of Management and Budget a nod.

“True, but let me continue. I’ve heard it said that certain people, off the record of course, feel the war on the Taliban is a joke.”

Elliott stared pointedly at the Secretary of Defense for a moment.

“The figures I’ve seen, which are also compiled here, indicate there are maybe 5,000 Taliban fighters, maybe a few more when the harvesting is over. They don’t have planes, missiles, or anything in the way of modern weaponry and yet we are supposed to believe they pose a threat to our national security?”

“I argued the same point ten years ago,” Robert Gates interjected.

“The expenses far outweigh any gains we have in fighting a war against them. All the facts and figures are here,” Elliott concluded.

“I still say you’ll never get it passed through Congress,” Dick argued. “The military lobbyists will be all over them.”

“Which is why I’ve waited to tell you the other half of the plan; the two of you labor in relative obscurity. The average American will know the starting lineups and slugging percentage of the home team, but know nothing of you or what you do. That’s because what you do, at least in their perception, has no impact on their lives. I’m proposing to change that starting today if I can get your agreement to spearhead this approach. I will take out full page ads in the Washington Post, The New York Times and The USA Today with a photo spread of the two of you, Bob here, and the head of the SEC touting you as the leaders of the War on the Deficit. The article will outline the plan of attack and the proposed dollar amounts we are saving. You will be instantly vaulted to celebrity status and you will become household names. Who knows where it might lead your careers? President, vice president, hell Ron Reagan was a spokesperson for General Electric or something before he became president. But more importantly I’m hoping to educate the public in a big way, and in doing so counteract the influence of the corporations.”

Elliott took a breath.

“Seriously, you will be spearheading the single most important effort in the history of this country, aside from perhaps D-Day. Our national debt is the single greatest threat our nation has faced, and it is largely being addressed with aimless drivel by our leaders. You gentlemen are in a position to save our nation. If the opposition is too strong in Congress I’ll post more articles. I have a team of free lance writers who are ready to go to work on this, naming names of those lobbyists and members of Congress who would stand in our way. Lastly, if it appears Congress is to stand in our way, I will personally fund a national referendum so that the American people can vote directly on these measures. We cannot let corruption in high places ruin our chances here.”

As Elliott ceased speaking the room fell into an eerie silence. The two men seated opposite him were quit literally stunned. Neither had been sure exactly what this meeting was to accomplish and had merely agreed to meet out of respect for Senator Eastman and General Gates. What had been voiced was nothing short of mind numbing.

Finally General Holland collected the brief and stood up. “Obviously a proposal of this magnitude will take some time to consider. I must confess I find it somewhat interesting.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Dick Henghold agreed, his face looking a little flushed as he stood as well.

“There are a number of players in other facets of this plan. I don’t want to push you, but I’ll need an answer as to whether you can back this or not in the next forty-eight hours,” Elliott softly explained.

“I’ll need to run this by the President,” General Holland advised.

“I’ve already spoken to him. I think he’s on our side,” Elliott responded. “But do as you see fit. You know how to reach us. Good day.”

Elliott strode from the room with General Robert Gates beside him.

Once they were in the corridor Gates couldn’t suppress his enthusiasm. “Good lord Elliott. You blew them away. Hell, you blew me away. That plan would change the world as we know it.”

“I think it will. It’s really nothing new. Most of the plan has been kicked around in various forms for years.”

“A tax on derivatives, commodities and futures transactions, I’ve never heard of such a thing. I say it’s brilliant!”

“Actually, England has had a half percent tax on her stock transactions for years,” Elliott added, “and it generates about 40 billion a year in revenue.”

“Oh, still, it was a master stroke. And a National Referendum?”

“Actually, we can’t initiate a National Referendum without an approval from Congress, but there are about 29 states that already have approved state referendums over the years.”

“Still, just the threat of a National Referendum will start them shaking in their boots on Capitol Hill. It’s the perfect approach. The power is with the people, or so the constitution would have us believe, so let them vote directly on the issue.”

“It’s just a dream at the moment Bob, but perhaps someday. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t like the way both Holland and Henghold backed off so quickly. It was as if they were worried someone might have been listening in,” Elliott replied as he climbed into the limo again. “It was as if they were suddenly handed a hot potato and wanted nothing to do with it.”

“I think you’re reading too much into it. I think they were just dumb struck by the scope and boldness of the plan.”

“You know, with Twitter and texting I wonder if maybe the time has come for a National Referendum,” Elliott mused out loud.

General Gates laughed. “Don’t go pushing your luck there kiddo. They would have to work out some way of verifying the votes were legit, rather than one kid sending in a couple thousand text messages an hour.”

Elliott smiled. “I think you may be right. We’re a couple of years ahead of ourselves, but I could see a text message or e-mail including a PIN number to vote becoming a reality in a few years. Thanks for helping out.”

“It’s the least I can do,” the General responded, glancing at Elliott as he climbed out of the limo. “You don’t look so hot.”

“I don’t feel so hot either. I’m just tired. Very, very tired.”