Blood of Patriots (Book 4 of The Humanity Unlimited Saga) Read online

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  Josh Queen slammed his palm against the surface of his desk hard enough to make his subordinates stop squabbling amongst themselves. They were meeting so that they could help him formulate his response to both the Chinese aggression and the revelations of the Asharim and their alien tech.

  “Enough!” Queen said into the startled quiet. “Running around like chickens with our heads cut off doesn’t help us. Take a deep breath and focus on things we can do that will actually benefit us. The president expects solid ideas, and I’m counting on you to help me come up with them. Focus!”

  The three people sitting around Queen’s desk were all assistant secretaries of state, focusing on different aspects of US policy around the world. That fostered a sense of competition in them that he liked. He’d rather have them in competition with one another than plotting to supplant him one day.

  Darryl Dickman—otherwise known behind his back as Darryl the Dick—scowled. “We’ve got too many hot potatoes flying around to focus our attention on so many things. Obviously, we have to honor the threat and give the Chinese our primary attention. We’re at war, dammit.”

  That comment only made sense for someone who’d been focused on Asia for the last seven years. The man had a dislike for the Chinese and their bullying that Queen didn’t disagree with in the slightest.

  Under other circumstances, he’d have agreed with the man at once. Now, things were a lot more complex. He didn’t need simple answers. He needed complex solutions.

  “That fight is the military’s to run now,” Lana Bohannon said coldly, almost sneering. “They’ve started shooting, so we’ll be talking through the barrel of a gun for now. We need to turn our attention to the alien invasion!”

  Lana had never been a fan of the military. That trend had grown in popularity in the bureaucracy over the last few decades, and she was far from alone in her feelings. Unfortunately, their distaste left the United States in something of a bind now.

  They needed the military, and Queen was regretting every spending cut he’d helped foster over the years. They’d all been badly mistaken about how desperately they’d need a strong military, him most of all.

  “Sure,” Darryl drawled with a sneer. “You say that now. How’s that wall funding you supported keeping these illegal aliens out?”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Phillip Judge, the last person in the conference room, said. “Who gives a flying squirrel what policies we supported in the past? We have to face the problems with what we have, not what we wish we had.”

  “If you’ll recall, I supported the wall funding as well,” Queen said. “That was for a different problem, and Phillip is right. We have to use the tools we have.

  “I’ll concede that dealing with the Chinese now is primarily military, but we have to have some policy recommendations for the president. The Chinese won’t come to the table unless the military can stop them, and we have to be ready for that moment.”

  “Why start a shooting war?” Lana asked. “Yes, they blew up the Mars ship we bought from the Indian government. Tell the Indians we hadn’t taken possession yet and get our money back and back off from the fight.”

  “We lost half a dozen astronauts on that ship,” Darryl snarled. “We can’t let that pass.”

  “If it suits our interests, we can and should,” Phillip said, taking a sip of his water. “Do we want to fight them now or when we’re ready?”

  “What about the Yucatán spaceport?” Darryl countered, sticking his chin out pugnaciously. “Are we just going to let them humiliate us in front of the world?”

  “Diplomacy is the art of saying ‘nice doggie’ while hunting for a big stick. Isn’t that what Will Rogers said? We should follow his excellent advice, and before jumping off a cliff to show how tough we are.”

  That advice stuck in Queen’s craw, but it had some merit, he admitted grudgingly. If they could delay the onset of hostilities until Jess Cook and Harry Rogers followed through with what the late and unlamented Clayton Rogers had promised, they might be able to bring alien firepower to bear on the Chinese and improve their odds considerably.

  “That might be a workable recommendation,” Queen said before the other three could fall back into arguing about it. “Not for long, mind you, but we can use the public relations angle to damage Chinese standing around the world while we try and get more of the alien tech to use against them.”

  Darryl looked as if he’d bitten into a rotten apple but held his tongue. Lana and Phillip nodded, with varying degrees of agreement.

  “Let’s say that keeps them from attacking our forces in other ways,” Lana said. “How do we know that these Humanity Unlimited bozos are going to give us the alien tech? They could’ve just said they would, and now that the heat is off, they’ll go on their merry way. It’s not as if we can compel them to do what they promised.”

  Queen shook his head. “I’ve met the woman in charge. Unlike Clayton Rogers, I think she’ll honor the commitment. After the reports that we received from the Navy forces that participated in the attack on the base they claim is in French territory, they know how little they have in the way of troops.

  “Not to say the quality of Harry Rogers’s special operations mercenaries is low. I’ve seen the reports, and he has a solid group of people. They even have access to alien weapons. The problem is that there are so few of them. Our intelligence reports say less than a hundred front-line operators.

  “Faced with a whole universe full of hostile bad guys, they’ll get wiped out in no time flat. Hell, if we hadn’t sent that vest-pocket nuke on the last mission, they’d have died and we’d be fighting a real alien invasion right now, on top of a war with China.”

  Queen rubbed his hands across his face. “No, I think she’ll play ball. I think I can secure the base in France for our use too, if I play my cards right. Now all I need to do is get them to actually let me talk with her.”

  Lieutenant Commander Karl Krueger, the man leading the SEAL team sent after Clayton Rogers, was in DC now, and Queen had spoken with him at length last night. Jessica Cook had been badly injured in the fighting and was undergoing medical care by that traitorous FBI agent, Brenda Cabot, and her illuminati group.

  He hated the idea of dealing with the woman who’d kidnapped him, but he’d sent an encrypted message to the email address she’d given him, asking about Cook’s condition. He’d come into the office this morning to find a reply stating Cook was on her feet and would be contacting him shortly.

  Queen wasn’t sure if that meant this morning or simply today. It galled him to be at the beck and call of others, but he’d grant the woman was convalescing. Cabot and her people had healed him of a gunshot, so he wasn’t going to make that an issue.

  “I’m going to send another message to Cabot,” Queen finally said. “Did we get anywhere trying to trace the known members of her organization?”

  “We found a few, but they’ve gone to ground,” Lana said. “One is Victor Holyfield, a doctoral candidate in physics at MIT, as well as a star on their wrestling team. He hasn’t been to class since you met him, and at this point I don’t think he’ll be back.”

  Queen nodded. That wasn’t a surprise. The man was very recognizable. They probably hadn’t initially planned on Queen seeing the young man.

  “What about Doctor Todd Granger?” he asked. “An Asian man with a Southern accent has to be somewhat unique.”

  She nodded. “We pegged him too, but he left general practice years ago and fell off the radar. There’s no way to use him to trace back to them. The FBI is following up on both of them, and Cabot too, but I’m not expecting a lot.”

  “Is Special Agent in Charge Pembroke leading the investigation?”

  At her nod, Queen smiled. “He has a lot of reasons to work this case very hard. If anyone can track them down, it’s him.”

  He leaned back in his comfortable leather chair and considered the place they’d found themselves in for a minute. His staff knew hi
s ways and let him think. Finally, he sat up straight and nodded.

  “I’ll recommend to the president that we hold off on hostilities with China at this time. I want each of you to write up any diplomatic measures that we can use to make China look bad in the international community, as well as any covert actions we might take against them that will hinder their operations anywhere in this solar system. Dismissed.”

  They got up and filed out, already bickering by the time his door swung closed.

  Queen brought up his email program. It was time to have a sit-down with Jess Cook and Harry Rogers. For that to happen, he needed to carefully word a promise of temporary immunity. He’d threatened a lot of legal charges against the pair, after all.

  He rather suspected they’d prefer to meet him off planet, but he had no intention of surrendering himself to their custody again. They could come to him under a flag of parley. That would have to do.

  Harry had a lot of work to do but got into the panel van when it was ready at the building’s loading dock. Seeing his late father’s personal assistant wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but the man had given his life so that Jess and Harry could live. That kind of sacrifice commanded respect, no matter how Harry felt about him.

  People from the Families made certain that no one was in position to see them get inside the windowless van, and they were shortly on their way. The address the assistant had given them wasn’t more than twenty minutes away on a good morning. So, with his luck, it would take twice that. Or get them stuck in a traffic jam for a few hours.

  Jess’s head was down and her eyes introspective, so he left her in peace. She’d gone through something more traumatic than almost anyone alive could claim. She’d been killed in a firefight. The miraculous recovery the Asharim sarcophagus had managed for her took nothing away from feeling her life drain away, he was sure.

  Honestly, he didn’t know if that was something even he could just shrug off. Hell, she was holding up better than he might in her place.

  He’d be there for her when the crisis came, but he knew that he wasn’t the best person to be at her side at a time like this. He’d called for Sandra Dean to come as soon as Jess had woken up. She’d be here today, as soon as she’d done her part to get the captured heavy-worlders secure and get the Volunteers safely back into the French base.

  Miraculously, no one seemed to have noticed the thousands of people flooding out into the rugged rural area near Paris. He’d been expecting the French authorities to come knocking over the last forty-eight hours, but there’d been nothing.

  He’d have suspected Brenda Cabot’s people of using their influence, but she’d told him that even though they’d been ready to do exactly that, no one had reported anything out of the ordinary. That was one piece of good luck that they’d certainly needed, since he’d have had to abandon the base if they’d come calling.

  The van came to a halt, and the side door slid open. Harry flipped the hood on his windbreaker up, stepped out, and held out a hand for Jess to join him. She had a hat over her blonde hair to help conceal her identity. Two men from the Families got out with them.

  The building they stood in front of was in significantly better condition than the one they’d just left: taller, cleaner, and better maintained. A glance around showed the building was located in a much better neighborhood. No surprise there.

  They entered a door on the first level. The interior was set up with a reception room in the front and offices to the rear. There were no paintings on the wall and very little in the way of furniture. Harry guessed this office had been vacant yesterday.

  The young man behind the front desk wasn’t his father’s assistant, but he did look familiar, so he must’ve been on the man’s staff.

  “Good morning, Mister Rogers, Miss Cook,” the man said in a polite British accent. “Mister Weller is waiting for you in the main office. Your associates can wait here. I have donuts and either coffee or tea for them.”

  The man’s accent cemented Harry’s memory. “We’ve met, haven’t we? You’re Mister Weller’s assistant… Anthony?”

  The young man smiled. “You’ve got an excellent memory, Mister Rogers. My name is Anthony Brighton-Jones. I’ve been with Mister Weller for five years. Would you care for tea or coffee?”

  “Hot tea?” Jess asked. “Please.”

  The man rose to his feet and went to a small table set up just out of sight of the door and began pouring some steaming tea.

  Harry took the opportunity to make himself coffee and give their escorts a nod to signify it was safe to stay here. Based on how they were looking at the donuts, there wouldn’t be any left by the time the meeting ended.

  When Jess and he were armed with hot drinks, Anthony escorted them down a small hall and gestured toward the door at the back of the office. “Mister Weller is in there waiting for you. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to have him call me.”

  Harry nodded his thanks and rapped his knuckles on the indicated door. At the muffled call to enter, he opened the door.

  Gregory Weller, Clayton Rogers’s personal assistant, rose from a comfortable seat that had almost certainly been moved in just for this meeting, as the rest of the room was bare, other than two identical seats for Harry and Jess, as well as small tables for their drinks.

  “Mister Rogers, Miss Cook,” Weller said, shaking their hands. “Allow me to extend my deepest condolences for your loss. If there is anything I or my staff can do to lessen your burden, you have only to ask.”

  Once he’d shaken the man’s hand, Harry sat and placed his coffee cup on the provided table. “I’m sure that we both appreciate that, Mister Weller. I think the best thing we can do for now is see what my father wanted. I assume this has something to do with his last will and testament.”

  The older man nodded as he sat. “Indeed, it does. Your father employed me as his assistant for the last twenty years, so I count myself as one of the few people in the world that can state with any confidence at all that they knew his mind. I’d like to start this meeting with some personal observances, if I may.”

  Harry picked up his coffee and took a sip. It was, of course, excellent. “I’d rather not spend too much time out in the open where our enemies can find us.”

  “Then you can rest easy. We have lookouts for blocks in every direction, and the basement here connects with an old sewer line that can see you to a getaway vehicle that the police—or any other kind of adversary—won’t be expecting. If someone were to come knocking at the office door, young Anthony will discourage them.”

  “With tea and donuts?” Jess asked, a smile ghosting across her lips.

  “With the automatic weapon under his desk, more likely. Anthony is former British SAS. He’s quite the talented warrior. I’m sure that your escort would also serve to delay any pursuit.”

  “I see. Well, then, please go on.”

  “As I said, I knew your father’s mind in many things, and though he wouldn’t have said so, he deeply regretted the rift that his lifestyle caused between the two of you. While I have no intention of bridging it, I felt it best for you to know that even through the worst of times, he still loved you.”

  “Not enough to change,” Harry said, still moved a little. “I’ll accept that, though it changes little for me. He gave his life to save people I care about, so that washes away his sins in my mind. Let him rest in peace.”

  Weller nodded and smiled. “He’d have been satisfied with that, I believe.”

  The man pulled a briefcase off the floor and placed it in his lap before opening it. “I have here several sets of documents. Two for you, Harry, and one for Miss Cook. You’ll want to have a lawyer of your choice look everything over, but I can explain the basics to you.”

  Jess took a manila envelope from Weller after Harry had his two. Unlike him, she opened hers. “What am I looking at, and why would I need another lawyer? Can’t you do that?”

  He nodded. “I can, but as M
ister Rogers the elder would often say, trust lawyers sparingly. It’s always best to have an uninvolved third party make certain that any documents say what you’re told, unless you know the lawyer quite well and trust him. He trusted me, but you don’t know me all that well. Get another set of eyes to look them over. Someone you trust.”

  “I have someone that can do that.”

  “Excellent.” The man turned his attention to Harry. “Aren’t you going to read them?”

  “I’ll let you give me the overview, and then I’ll talk to my company lawyer.”

  “Make absolutely certain the second packet gets a much more thorough vetting than the first. It comes from a source that is both unexpected and concerning.

  “The first packet is your father’s will. He had it updated when the scope of the discoveries you were making became clear. Virtually all of his fortune was poured into Humanity Unlimited, but he did have some things that were not part of his corporate holdings. Many went to others, but one in specific he wanted you to have.

  “He bought a sheep station in New Zealand, the one with the ruined base inside its borders. While that will no doubt end up in the hands of the government there, they’ve already agreed to not only leave the property in your father’s ownership but to expand the purchase around the station to further isolate the base.”

  Harry frowned as he considered that. “So they’re basically keeping him on as the owner of record to conceal the base while they run things? That makes sense, I suppose. It’ll keep other nations from guessing too much. But don’t the governmental leaders he met from Japan, Australia, and South Korea already know where it is?”

  “It seems not. They came in an enclosed helicopter and had no electronics. They even wore blindfolds when being taken into the base. No one other than a select few in New Zealand know precisely where the base is located.

  “They believe that the façade of your ownership and expansion will continue to help conceal it from all but the most determined searcher. Your father spoke of building a large house on top of the mesa above the base. New Zealand’s prime minister thinks that’s a capital idea and has already started the process. It provides excellent cover for moving in everything they need to open and repair the base as well as they can.”