Revolution (15 page)

Megan turned to Sir Wilkins.

‘The site of the massacre and the razed village: do you know what was being done there?’

Sir Wilkins shook his head.

‘The Red Cross are already making enquiries about it but so far they’ve drawn a total blank. There’s nothing to indicate any kind of official research development programs there. It’s as if the place never existed, which means either the paperwork has been destroyed by the people who destroyed the village…,’

Megan nodded thoughtfully, finishing the sentence.

‘Or there never was any paperwork and the entire endeavour, whatever it was, was being funded externally from elsewhere with only the physical work being done in the village.’

‘That could mean anywhere,’ Sir Wilkins pointed out. ‘With this kind of sheer destructive will, we could be looking at a situation where neither the government nor the rebel factions are responsible. This could be the work of Islamic militants, or Russian mafia running a drug factory, or simply mercenaries run amok. As long as those kinds of people are paid sufficiently they’ll do just about anything.’

‘When I met the rebels at Anterik,’ Megan said, ‘one of them told me that his people would not allow the west to conduct their economic experiments here in Mordania. Do you know what he might have meant by that?’

Wilkins shook his head slowly.

‘No, I don’t. Who knows, though, what these people might have been told by their leader in order to have them fight as they do.’

Megan shook her head, frowning as she stood.

‘There’s something missing, something we’re not seeing here. Whatever it is, it’s the reason that Amy O’Hara travelled so far and the reason those people were murdered. Something tells me that there’s something bigger at work.’

‘How do you know?’ the attache asked as Megan grabbed her jacket.

‘Gut instinct,’ Megan replied. ‘Something stinks, and I’m going to find out what it is.’

***

Hart Senate Building,

Washington DC, USA

‘Mister Vice President!’

Seth Cain strode across the vast multi–storey lobby of the Hart Senate building, intercepting Vice–President Richard Hobbs as he made his way in the opposite direction.

‘Seth,’ Hobbs greeted the media tycoon warmly. ‘Been a while.’

‘Too long,’ Cain agreed, gesturing toward the exit. ‘Lunch?

The Vice President shook his head as they walked together, flanked by secret–service agents in dark suits and obligatory sunglasses.

‘I’m due at the White House. The Director of the CIA and the National Security Advisor have been trying to get the president to sit down for five minutes so they can discuss the deterioration in relations with Russia. It’s not a briefing I can afford to miss.’

‘That’s fine Richard, really. Can I offer you a ride to Pennsylvania Avenue? There’s something important we need to discuss.’

Hobbs turned with Cain and they walked outside and down a broad flight of steps toward a slender black car with tinted windows. Cain graciously opened the door for the vice–president, ignoring the sudden flurry of flashing cameras as a gaggle of press reporters dashed across from where the vice–president’s official ride was parked to get a better shot of the two men. Cain ducked inside and slammed the door and the car pulled smoothly away from the reporters.

‘So, what’s on your mind, Seth?’ Hobbs asked amiably.

‘Mordania.’

‘Mordania,’ Hobbs echoed. ‘Who’d have thought such a meagre scrap of real–estate would be on the lips of so many? I would have thought that the recent success of that British reporter of yours would be making you smile in your sleep. What’s his name? Slingsby?’

‘Sigby,’ Cain replied. ‘And yes, the reports from within Mordania have indeed been sensational. However they are not the greatest of concerns for us right now, Richard. The continuing destablisation of the Mordanian government is beginning to tip the balance of power in favour of General Rameron’s insurgency. The matter is growing more critical with every passing day. You’ve watched the news yourself, Richard. The government is going to collapse.’

The vice–president nodded in agreement but seemed unpreturbed.

‘The United States can’t be there to wipe the nose of every president who faces a leadership crisis, Seth. Mordania simply does not have the strategic importance to us to warrant a military solution to the conflict. You know this already. The president has repeatedly said that he will not interfere with the United Nation’s decisions on these matters. He wants to repair US–UN relations, not wreck them.’

Seth Cain sighed heavily.

‘Political niceities aside, Richard, Mordania has immense importance in the greater scheme of things. Its location as a conduit for oil supplies from the Middle East may become of greater value than you think. Both Russia and Iran continue to threaten western oil supplies by playing havoc with the flow of crude overland and by sea, using the supplies as a political weapon against us. Mordania is the perfect platform for ensuring a safe flow in the long term, bypassing less reliable suppliers.’

‘I agree, absolutely,’ the vice–president said, ‘but we have an obligation to let these nations develop on their own. We can’t keep doing what previous American administrations have done and simply invade other countries on our own agenda. We’re damned whatever we do, Seth. If we do nothing we’re abandoning innocent civilians to their doom, and if we do make a move then we’re the Great Satan invading lesser countries for our own devious ends.’

Cain made a gesture of helplessness.

‘Oh come on Richard, you’re dodging too many issues trying to support this administration’s pacifist approach. Russia is growing ever more powerful, spreading its influcence throughout the Urals and the Middle East, seeking to construct another empire founded on an anti–American consensus. It’s the Cold War all over again. We need western–friendly governments around the Caspian. Chechnya, Georgia, Mordania – they’ve all shown a willingness and an interest in becoming members of NATO and the EU. You name it, they want it and we’ve got it. What better bulwark against Russian expansion into the Middle East could you want? Look at Europe, the spread of democracy by choice. It’s worked there.’

‘Maybe,’ Hobbs said, ‘but you said it yourself – democracy by
choice
. Besides, our country is already stretched to its military limit in other operations around the globe. We just don’t have the manpower. Anyway, with the environmental issues at stake here it’s as wise to invest money in alternative energy programs as it is to plough it into another invasion exercise, to which I might add there is no guarantee of success. We learned enough lessons in Iraq to give us pause for thought when deploying our forces for a prolonged foreign engagement.’

Seth Cain lowered his hands.

‘Richard, you and I have known each other for how long?’

‘About twenty years,’ Hobbs replied. ‘Good years, too.’

‘Then you can understand how important it was for me, and for the president’s other benefactors, that the policies upon which he built his campaign are upheld now that he is in office. The people of America are concerned about the security of their energy supplies and are all too aware of what’s required to maintain that security. America must make efforts to control of all the world’s energy resources, regardless of the obstacles.’

The vice–president looked at Cain seriously.

‘What’s this to you, Seth? Since when did you care about oil?’ Hobb’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is the Board on your back again?’

‘They have a stake,’ Cain admitted, looking out of the window at the passing traffic and the pedestrians, all oblivious to the complexity of the greater world beyond their own. ‘It’s in our interest to protect our investments.’

‘
Their
investments,’ Hobbs corrected him. ‘You should stay out of their political shennanigans Seth, before you get dragged down with them.’

Cain looked back at the vice–president once more.

‘They want the president to ensure that their interests in the Caspian region are protected. They believe that the president promised that he would do that.’

‘But we will not achieve that aim by force or arms, nor did we ever suggest that we should!’

Cain’s hitherto amiable expression finally hardened.

‘The means are not at question here, Richard, only the end result. I and more than a dozen other benefactors provided the funds for your party’s campaign on the understanding that certain policies would become part of law and that certain concerns of ours would be addressed, and that’s not happening.’

Richard Hobbs stared at Seth Cain with a shocked expression.

‘What part, exactly, of the words
democratic government
have you failed to understand Seth?’

‘Democracy?!’ Cain laughed bitterly. ‘You don’t seriously expect me to believe that we still live in democracies do you Richard? Where leaders bow to the will of their people? That’s crap and you know it. Administrations the world over are voted into power on the basis of grand promises of how wonderful life will be under their guidance, and one after the other, term after term, they fail to deliver.’

‘That’s a deeply cynical line of thought,’ Hobbs observed.

‘But it’s the truth, isn’t it? True rule of the people, by the people,
for
the people is not democracy. It’s
isocracy
, a form of leadership not sufficient for the massive populations of our planet today. So we make do with democracy. People are raised to office by a popular vote, and then spend their years in power doing whatever they like. If you reduce the number of potential leaders to a handful of people who will all more or less do what their benefactors want once they’re in power, you’ve gotten rid of democracy all together. That’s modern politics Richard, and you know it. The White House does not control America – corporations control it. Oil controls it. Manufacturing controls it. The media controls it. Capitalism in all its glory, and we pull the strings.’

Richard Hobbs shot Cain an aggressive look.

‘Get to your point, Seth.’

‘We own America and its president. My media corporation only broadcasts news reports that are favourable to the administration, as we promised we would. We can change that in the blink of an eye, should we feel that our alliance is not being honoured by the president.’

‘You do not own the White House, nor the president, nor the people of this country! I would sooner resign from office than be dictated to by a glorified office gossip!’

Cain’s features collapsed into frustration as the car drew to a stop close to the White House.

‘We need to go into Mordania. That is what we want.’

‘That is what
you
want, Seth. I don’t know what you’re involved in but I’m damned sure it’s not going to influence this administration’s policies, and that’s final!’

With that, Hobbs got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Seth Cain dragged a hand down his face and reached out for the car–phone nestled in his arm rest. He dialled a number.

‘Kruger.’

‘It’s Seth. He didn’t go for it. I tried everything, absolutely everything, to the extent that I believe I may have lost a powerful ally within the administration. They’re not going to interfere in the Mordania situation and that’s final.’

There was the sound of a deep, rattling breath on the line

‘On the contrary, Seth, they’re about to learn that they have no choice.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m implementing phase two.’

‘Phase two?’ Cain echoed. ‘What’s that?’

He heard a throaty chuckle on the line.

‘Make sure that your people in London ensure that damned reporter in Mordania says what we want him to.’

‘What are you going to do, Sherman?’

‘Let’s just say that if you really need something doing, you just have to do it yourself. If America won’t go to war against Mordania’s rebels, then the rebels will have to go to war against America.’

The line clicked off in Seth Cain’s ear before he could respond, leaving him with an ominous feeling tingling down his spine.

***

GNN UK Ltd,

London

Harrison Forbes strode confidently through the GNN operations room, his eyes scanning the plasma screens showing news reports from around the globe.

‘I’m willing to bet last years’ salary that the next footage we see coming out of Mordania will make every other piece of news look about as interesting as the shipping forecast.’

‘Martin Sigby is still at the top of the news ratings,’ his aide, Shelley, said as she hurried to keep up with Harrison’s marathon–winning strides. ‘People are following this by the minute, on television, on line and on the radio. The coverage is immense.’

Harrison nodded, pausing to watch Martin Sigby’s image as it was broadcast on a Japanese 24–hour news channel.

‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t honestly believe that the news coverage of a conflict has ever before actually begun to affect the
course
of that conflict.’

‘At least not as clearly as this,’ Shelley said from his side, watching the broadcasts as she spoke. ‘Sigby’s last two reports have resulted in benign rebel movements further to the north–west of Thessalia, mostly occupying small villages. We have reliable reports from our other correspondents in the city that Royal Air Force reconnaisance flights have identified rebel convoys delivering aid within government controlled zones.’

‘They’re doing it for the beneficial coverage that they receive,’ Harrison said.

‘Pretty much, although whether anyone actually believes that these savages hold human rights in such high regard is questionable. Public opinion is still very much against their cause.’

‘But it’s also turning against the Mordanian government,’ Harrison pointed out. ‘Martin’s reports have been on the front page of every major English speaking newspaper in the world, two days running.’