The families of the victims appeared on the BBC, all major U.S. networks, and also in several other countries. All denounced Russia’s atrocity, and their tearful faces and crushed hearts made a stunned world reach a level of apoplectic fury that had been seen very few times in history.
Stoking the inferno even more was the revelation that the inside source, Aron Lesnik, had been shot down in broad London daylight. In fact, he’d died right in front of Katie James, who’d just zoomed back to the top of the journalism world after her exclusive bombshell.
The Russians again issued stern denials of it all. And these statements made not a dent in the opinion of the world. Gorshkov was said to be so crazed that he was walking around the Kremlin carrying a gun and threatening to blow his and anybody else’s brains out at any moment.
Everyone wanted to find Katie James. As did the London police once they realized they’d been snookered by the intrepid journalist. Only she’d disappeared. There were rumors flying around that Gorshkov had ordered her killed.
Was she already dead? A few billion people wondered.
As soon as Shaw had hung up on her Katie had packed her bag and fled. She’d found a room at a decrepit boardinghouse that accepted cash and asked no personal questions at all. She settled in – no, burrowed in was a more appropriate term. She vowed that if she survived all this, her first order of business would be to fly to the States and take a baseball bat to Kevin Gallagher’s knees.
CHAPTER 65
A SHELL CORPORATION owned by Nicolas Creel held title to a thousand-acre estate in Albemarle County, Virginia, within a short drive of Thomas Jefferson’s beloved University of Virginia. It was a working farm with stables of horses bred to run and then stud out. It had some cattle, some crops, and a mansion so large that it could fit several Monticellos inside of it comfortably. Creel had fl own in today and his chopper had delivered Dick Pender here to discuss and implement the next step in the plan.
The men sat at a small conference table in a room that was totally sound- and bugproof. Pende
r asked, “Did your wife come back with you from overseas?”
“No. That relationship is now over.”
Miss Hottie was still in the South of France and would be receiving the divorce papers just about now, Creel silently calculated. And the odds were better than even that she would be completely naked when that event occurred. He wondered briefly how she would be able to manage on the $5 million a year “stipend” the prenup provided for the next decade. Well, at least her predilection to nakedness should save the lady some money on clothes. And then Miss Hottie disappeared from his mind completely.
“I see.”
Pender noticed the architectural sketches on the table. “Building another grand palace somewhere?”
“No, an orphanage in Italy.”
“Your range of interests never ceases to amaze me, Mr. Creel.”
“Glad to hear it,” the billionaire said coldly.
“James’s one story has already surpassed everything we did,” Pender added. “I have never seen media activity like this before. Never.”
“Wait until we finish the story for her.”
“Let me see, that includes Chinese ownership of The Phoenix Group,” Pender said, glancing at his papers. “And files showing that Phoenix was behind the Red Menace campaign were found in the building, but the police have covered it up to prevent an international crisis.” The man recited these items as though he were reading off a grocery list. He looked up and smiled. “That, may I say, is a true showstopper. You’ve never risen to greater heights, and I don’t bestow that compliment lightly considering what you’ve accomplished in the past.”
“The situation would require no less, Dick,” Creel said sharply. “How soon can you let it fly?”
“Give the word and it’s all over the Internet. Five minutes after that, every major news outlet will have it in their greedy little claws.”
“You sure they won’t sit on it? Try to verify things?”
Pender laughed. “Verify? In this day and age? Who cares about verifying anything? It’s all about speed. Who gets there first defines the truth. You know that as well as any man living.”
“Then do it. Now.”
Pender typed on his BlackBerry one word. Launch. He said the word out loud as he typed it. “I thought the term appropriate for someone in the defense industry,” he said.
“Inspired,” Creel said dully.
The two men worked for several more hours and then Pender packed his bag.
“What’s next?” he asked the billionaire.
“Another boots on the ground,” Creel answered. “Have a nice ride back to D.C. Oh, and Dick, when we sign the official deals with China and Russia I believe a substantial bonus will be in order for you.”