Chapter 23
As the saying goes, "Time marches on." And so it did. With my new venture launched, it was already looking good. Both my directors had contacts with civilian companies, who contracted our services.
Oh, it was not all that inspiring a beginning, for others. But it was a nice start in our eyes, anyway. It was named Confidential Security & Investigations. Or CS&I for short.
Also, my decommissioned missile silo was finished. Most capabilities were restored to, or exceeded, original specs.
I also had two teams of security officers from my new company guarding my home, and my office. Two men at the house and two at the office, were on duty at all times. I didn't feel personally in danger at all. That was probably stupid, but what can I say? I was 24 and full of life.
My security detail insisted they had detected surveillance on me, but every time they tried to pin it down, it seemed to evaporate. Who ever the other party was, they were very good. So I asked questions, and then I did some back-time work.
I soon saw the pattern of people working me. Man! These people were very good! My people were good enough, though, to disrupt what became apparent to me was a well-orchestrated operation. Once I learned what to look for, I quickly found them. "Them", being the opposition.
I took down license plate numbers, descriptions, and between-time video. I turned it all over to Rachael. She was curious as to how I got these things, when our people couldn't. I just said I had ways and sources, and left it at that. I also turned over several plastic drink cups that the operatives had tossed away. I had their fingerprints, too!
Understand; we had small offices in Boston, New York, and Los Angeles. The main site was located in the middle of nowhere out in the country. I had purchased an old farm site, that was hard to get to. I had fixed it up as a training facility, and as the main complex for CS&I.
We put in a deceptively long landing strip, with camouflaged lights, and flew in and out if we wanted to get somewhere fast. By road it was three hours from Boston. By air, it was about 35 minutes with the plane we had. I had plans to buy a helicopter and some other items; but that was for later on, when (not if, but when) the business really took off.
Money was a great lubricator. Also, since we were building 'out in the middle of nowhere', the county officials were happy to grant the minimum licenses we were required to have. The old house was taken down and hauled away.
I kept the old barn, because I had a thing for old buildings; and it was a beauty. The house had been a different story. It was a wreck, and an eye sore. After it was gone, I had a new building (actually, several buildings) erected.
There was artesian water on the place, so we hooked into it. We put in a sewage disposal system, and hooked into the local power company. A generator was installed, just in case of power failures, because everything was run by electricity. With the generator, we had a 'never failing' source of power.
The closest town was a small farming town a little over fourteen and a half miles from our location. All in all, it was perfect for a training site, and a sometimes-clandestine operations center.
While Rachael stayed in either Boston or the New York offices; my other director, Carl Hampton, liked the 'farm'. He was constantly training his people. He divided his time between training, and the Boston offices. We had also hired some people to administer the 'farm', and to run day-to-day operations.
Money was not a problem for me. I had chosen wisely with my purchases back in the early 1900's. I still had a lot of gold coins left, too. It was time to move my collection from my home outside of Boston, to my home at the missile silo, which was located in North Dakota.
The federal government owned a lot of land in North Dakota, and so did the state. The Dakota's were a strange landmass, to say the least. It was not that heavily populated either. Perfect for some of what I wanted to do. The silo I had purchased, was not in the middle of one of the official missile fields located in North Dakota. No, I had bought mine at the edge. This meant I had both state, federal, and privately owned land abutting my little silo acreage.
I had entered into negotiations with both the state and federal government to try to buy some of the land next to mine. The feds were easy, but the state had notions of unbelievable value. For the longest time it looked like there would be no deal, then I got smart.
I went to the capitol of North Dakota, and started lobbying specific state reps. I then took out a full-page ad in the two largest cities' newspapers explaining that I wanted to buy land, but the state was over-valuing it, and trying to gouge me. I explained where the land was, and that it was useless for farming, as it was rocky and barely accessible. The state government's response was that land was going at a premium in other states. I also took photos of the land in question, and had that added to my full-page ads.
I was not a popular man in certain circles in North Dakota. They had been trying to hold me up, for as much money as they could get; but since I had gone public, their argument was foundering, particularly after the photos were published. Apparently governments everywhere feel their job is to rip as much money from the public as they can. It's all 'for the good', of course. I kept wondering: for whose good?
While all this was going on, Rachael had identified several of the people following me. Three fingerprints came back with classified tags. Two other fingerprints identified an ex-Navy Seal, and an ex-Army Special Forces officer. Interesting.
I took the information Rachael gave me on the classified tags, and came up with three active duty CIA covert operations specialists. No wonder they were good! Now who had the juice to have the CIA loan three active agents for a covert operation against a citizen of the US in violation of federal law? That was an interesting question, too!
On another front, Rachael had started coming up with 'council' members' names and addresses. Armed with this information, I went in, and started doing my thing. I would go to a "known" member, and follow him or her to get more information. It was easy.
Information started flowing like a river, and Rachael started putting it together. She started charting the information. Who was who, what they did, where they fit in with this 'council' thing.
One thing we discovered is that the 'council' was a multi-tiered thing. There were two levels that we knew of. There was possibly a third, even higher level, within the 'council'. There were whispers of this supposed 'ruling section' of the council. What I found interesting, was the little bit of history I had discovered about the council and its founders.
Some of the biggest names in industrial history were founding members. Carnegie was one, and it was a shocker! But then, this so called 'council' had changed since he was a member. There were other big name members, but it is pointless to mention them now.
What was obvious, was that there was a definite system within the council, a pecking order so to speak. Not only were there rich members, but other people, who were judges, lawyers, military men, business leaders... like I said, the rich. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Well, the problem was, that if you ran afoul of the 'council' you could die. That is where the council differed with the normal political party members. If you joined a party, Democrat or Republican, you didn't have to worry about loyalty to the extent that the 'council' forced one too. IE, you could be killed if you split with 'council' ideals. Yes, John F. Kennedy had been a member of the 'council'. Had he been killed for disobeying an order from his superiors? Good question.
As for tracking down whom it was that had ordered the covert surveillance of me by the CIA agents? It was still up in the air. I did not run into the right people, or might have missed the orders being issued. I had a feeling it came from the highest order in the 'council', and I had not yet penetrated that far.
The year was coming to a close, and I decided to invite my half sister to my home for Christmas. She came and we had a nice visit. She was happy that I was doing so well, and I knew she was doing well with her work as an attorney. I sometimes wondered if she had any of the ability that I did, but I did not know how to broach the subject to her.
I took her to the Boston Symphony, and we did a round of art shows. I also took her to the Fireman's ball. She was a wonderful dancer, and would make some man a very good wife. I told her so, too. Not just because of her dancing abilities, but the few days she was with me were conversationally great! She was intelligent, and had a way of cutting to the heart of a matter that 'had to be seen to be believed'.
With the New Year, I threw myself into getting as much information on the 'council' as I could. Slowly but surely, a picture was emerging. It was disconcerting, to say the least. At the outset, it appeared to be an organization of like-minded people. But digging deeper, you got the real picture.
Judges who were members, made some very peculiar judgments, which benefited specific businesses. The same judges were members of the 'council'. Lawyers who defended and went before these judges, were statistically more apt to win than not. Strange. I even spotted what can only be considered collusion, between one judge and a lawyer.
Here is what I discovered. A judge was sitting on a case of 'the government' vs. Chandler construction. The lead lawyer for the government was a member in good standing with the 'council'. It looked like the case had been thrown, and was already decided by the lawyer and the judge prior being heard. The government lost in favor of the construction company. Funny how that worked out, isn't it?
I went to my silo, and looked everything over. I stayed several days. It was in a rough, out of the way area. My security had arrived at the silo home several hours before my own arrival, just to make sure.
I am pretty sure that no one had been able to gain access, for several reasons. You needed a key to open the access way as well as a computer code. After that, internal security taped anyone in the tunnel headed into the silo facility/home itself.
I had fun opening and closing the huge blast doors that had protected the missile when it had stood at the ready, within this very facility. My contractor had done a wonderful job, and I was totally satisfied with his work. I decided I would use his company on other jobs as well.
All good things must come to an end, and I guess the opposition did too. I was visiting the little town that serviced the farming community around my silo home, when I was almost killed by a hit and run driver!
Yes, I was immediately suspicious. This town had one main street, and it was lightly traveled at the time I went. So to be almost run down by a hit and run specialist, was too much of a coincidence for me. Luckily he missed.
I back-timed, and got the plate number of the car, as well as a good look. It was one of the covert CIA specialists. The car turned out to be stolen. So the game had just had an ante-up placed in it, and it was my turn to call.
I already knew where to find this man, as well as the other guys the opposition had assigned to me. Well, if they wanted to up the stakes, fine. I could play rough, myself.
I thought this out very carefully. Whoever had authorized the three covert agents from the CIA to investigate me, had to be operating outside official notice. So what if three agents suddenly get hurt? This would cause an internal investigation, and might get some pressure off my back. I was almost sure that if three top covert agents say, got shot... people were going to notice, and would want to know what they were doing. Unless the agents were members of the council also, they would report what their boss told them to.
Oh, I wasn't going to kill them. But a high-powered rifle, shooting each one in the same leg, was bound to be noticed by the right people. I could not let Rachael or Carl, my directors of CS&I, get involved in this particular mission. While I planned to get them more involved later, now was not the time to spring an idea like this on them.
My mission went off like clockwork. I shot the first agent in his right calf as he was going up the steps to his house from a short distance with a rifle. I then transported myself through the NTZ to the next location, and so forth. The result? Three covert agents got shot at approximately the same time, from three different weapons. Message sent.
A couple hours later I was asked to the front door of my home, by my security. Two FBI agents were there, and they were interested in questioning me downtown. I said fine, I would go with them; but I wanted my lawyer present. I had one of my security people call Rachael, to advise her of what was happening, as well as for contacting my attorney. My attorney was there even before I was!
Edited By TeNderLoin