Kate Donovan - Exit Strategy

“Before you give your penis all the credit,” Miranda told her lover with a sniff, “you should know it was Jonathan who really changed my mind. He told me all about your new political philosophy, and it make a lot of sense.”

Ortega glared at Kell in disbelief. “You told her?”

“Nothing incriminating. Just philosophy, like she said.”

Miranda nodded. “It’s the lesson of history. Greece fell. Egypt fell. Rome really fell. Democracy had its day in the sun, but it can’t protect us anymore. The big, lumbering countries take weeks to act on a threat. We need a system that uses modern technology-lightning speed communications-to protect us.”

“That’s all I told her, Ortega. I swear,” Jonathan insisted.

Ortega nodded. “In a way, Miranda and women like her will benefit more from our new system than anyone. Look at her. The CIA used her as a whore. Do you know what her colleagues call her? The Sex Kitten. Because they use her to get information from horny guys.”

Kell blanched. “Did they send you here to seduce me, Jennifer?”

“No,” she muttered, annoyed at Ortega for portraying her so blatantly, even though she knew it was an effective tactic.

“The CIA sent her to me, not to you, Jonathan,” Ortega explained. “I always knew they’d contact me once they found out you were involved with the Brigade. They wanted to use me to get to you. To find out who the Brigadier was. They never once suspected I was he. Miranda didn’t, either. She came to my cabin and seduced me. Spent a week making love to me. Then she left without any information. Do you know what happened next?”

Miranda wanted to ask “what?” but left that to Kell, who quickly did the honors.

Ortega smiled. “She was tired of being the CIA’s whore. She decided to come here herself, without authorization, and try to discover the Brigadier’s identity. She hoped that if she could do that, they’d value her as something more than just a gorgeous piece of ass.”

Miranda made a mental note to strangle Ortega, but didn’t interrupt.

Kell gave her a wistful smile. “I don’t blame you for trying to improve your situation.” Turning to Ortega, he asked breathlessly, like a child hearing a bedtime story, “How did you find out she was here?”

Ortega shrugged. “She’s a beautiful woman. And great in bed, thanks to the CIA’s training. After a few days, I missed her, and tried to track her down. I found out she had disappeared, and I knew she must have come here. To solve the mystery of the Brigadier’s identity. I was proud of her, but I couldn’t allow it. I had to protect the Brigade. And I had to offer her a chance to join us. To save herself from the American hypocrisy that had stolen her dignity from her.”

Give me a break… Miranda looked down at her hands, trying not to laugh out loud.

“Ortega’s right,” Kell told her softly. “Your own country made a prostitute out of you. You have more reason than anyone to join us.”

She nodded. “Like I said, you’ve got me convinced that the era of huge, geographically limited governments is over. But still, you’re talking about the United States of America, with its massive military strength, not to mention the strength of its allies around the world. They may be bloated, lumbering giants, but they’ve got the manpower. The Brigade is just five men and some small paramilitary groups, right? David against Goliath.”

“That’s the point. The next world war will be won quickly, with small, mobile forces using innovative technology. We will run circles around the giants.” Kell gave Ortega an apologetic wince. “I should let you explain.”

“You’re doing fine.”

Kell turned back to Miranda, his eyes sparkling. “We have twenty paramilitary groups ready to move in after the bombs go off. Combined with our networks in the social, financial and religious core of each major region, that will enable us to seize power by offering stability in the midst of chaos.”

“The bombs?” she asked warily.

“They will provide our opening salvo. Strategically placed explosives in ten capitals, including Washington, New York, London and Beijing, timed to ensure that President Standish and comparable world leaders are home and will be instantly killed. We have the capability to immediately dominate global communications, and we will disseminate the message that fifty more bombs exist-in other capitals as well as dense population centers. If the Brigade encounters resistance, those will be set off as well. But we anticipate that negotiations will commence immediately, especially after we deploy the pharmaceutical weapon I developed.”

Miranda shook her head. “That’s pretty ambitious, Jonathan. Aren’t you afraid the CIA and Interpol will stop you before you can get anywhere close to sixty bombs planted?”

“The last one was put into place yesterday. In Tokyo.”

She shot Ortega a horrified glance, and was impressed when he nodded coolly. “As I told you upstairs, this is not a theoretical exercise. Our progress has been swift. More proof that the world is ready for this sort of takeover.”

“Still…” She shook her head again. “Even with the power pill, your tiny forces can’t overcome huge armies. It’s an amazing drug, Jonathan, but it only lasts a few hours, and it didn’t really make me that much more powerful, mentally or physically. It cleared my head-that was amazing, I admit. But…”

“I agree,” said Kell. “The power pill offers miraculous temporary relief for persons with severe phobias, but those people aren’t likely to join the military in the first place. Most soldiers-whether in traditional armies or paramilitary forces-already have above-average ability to suppress their fear. Adrenaline works well for them.” He cleared his throat, then admitted, “It is my other formula that will be vital to the takeover. I’m not proud of it, but it’s a necessary evil.”

“Your other formula?”

“Liquid fear,” he told her softly. “We can easily introduce it into the water supply. As it turns out, it’s much easier to turn normal people into phobics than to make phobics like myself normal.”

“Oh, Jonathan,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

“Miranda!” Ortega glared. “There’s no room for sentimentality if we’re to be successful. Change has a price. For global change, that price is high. But necessary. You’d better learn that lesson right now.”

“But at some point, the price becomes too high,” Kell countered softly. “That’s the reason for our summit this weekend. Technically, we can make our move on Monday. And it would be dangerous to delay much longer, since suspicion is obviously growing. But I’m not comfortable with the anticipated civilian casualty projections, and neither is Chen.” Turning away from Ortega, he explained to Miranda, “Originally, we projected a ceiling of ten thousand. Now Gresley tells us it will be ten times that. I have insisted that that number is unacceptable, and Victor Chen agrees. But Gresley and Tork disagree. Gresley, because he is uncaring. Tork-well, he’s brutal by necessity. It’s the reason he was chosen to head our paramilitary effort, but still, there must be a limit.”

“Monday?” Miranda murmured.

Kell shrugged. “That’s up to the Brigadier. It’s the reason I insisted on a face-to-face meeting with him. This issue-civilian casualties-is critical. If something can’t be done-if Ortega doesn’t stand with Chen and me and demand that the effort be delayed until we can insure a lower figure-I will withdraw. I believe Chen will also. And without my drug, and Chen’s communication network, the Brigade will have much less chance of success.”

Almost speechless, Miranda looked to Ortega, and was again impressed by his ability to seem unsurprised, and also unconcerned.