The Foundation: Jack Emery 1 (23 page)

As he sat on the set of a CNN studio in Los Angeles waiting for his slot, Jack was frustrated by the constant attention of the makeup and hair stylists. He was trying to think, but the primping and preening of the two women made it difficult. He didn’t believe it mattered what he looked like, and if he was writing this for the
Standard
,
it definitely wouldn’t. But he’d lost that avenue, so had to cooperate with the norms of television.

He’d spent a few days picking Chen’s brain, along with getting access to the entire treasure trove of information on Chen’s USB. Though Hickens had salvaged some information, Chen still had an original copy and everything on it. On the flight from Taiwan to Los Angeles, Jack had compiled everything into a workable story: the Foundation’s role in the Shanghai attacks and the war, the control of EMCorp, the shooting of Ernest McDowell, their continued subversion of large parts of US society, and a huge effort to control a large slice of US Congress.

He’d traveled with one eye open, half expecting Dominique’s goons to ambush him at the airport, on the plane or once he’d landed. But nobody had challenged him and Celeste had met him at the airport in Los Angeles, having flown in from Hawaii. From their hotel room they’d crafted the stories, listing no names and making no claims that couldn’t be proven with certainty in court. He’d left himself plenty of room to maneuver. He’d put the lot into a blog post, and beamed it out through his Twitter feed, timed to ensure it hit the daily news cycle. It had been a bombshell.

In the hours that followed, what had begun as a trickle of calls, texts and emails became a torrent, then a tsunami. Half of them were concerned friends, Peter and Josefa included, while the rest were offers for interviews or publication. He’d smiled at the response to his blog post. It was nice to know he still had the touch. It had actually been Celeste who had organized the spot on CNN’s
Insight
program.

“Thanks. Mr Emery.” The makeup girl stepped back with a pearly white smile and finally left Jack to his own devices. “Andrea will be with you shortly.”

Jack nodded. “Thanks.”

He turned his head and looked straight at Celeste, who was standing just behind the cameras. She smiled and gave him the thumbs up. They’d rehearsed the interview for most of the morning, but Jack had no doubt that Andrea Serrenko would be a far tougher gig. She had an impressive reputation, but if there was one way to get his message against Dominique and the Foundation white hot, nailing this interview was it.

He was about to say something to Celeste when Serrenko appeared and approached the set. She was an impressive woman, over six feet tall and higher still in heels, with fiery red hair and a personality to match. She sat in the seat opposite him, placed her notes on the counter and made sure her water glass was full.

Only then did she look up at Jack. “Good evening, Mr Emery, thanks for coming in. How’re things today?”

“Jack, please.” He held out his hand. “Could be worse, I could be in the crosshairs of more than one very dangerous organization.”

Serrenko laughed and shook his hand. “Well, Jack, for the sake of my audience, I’m glad you’re in the sights of at least one of them. It’s a hell of a story.”

Jack smiled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

As they exchanged further small talk, an assistant approached and fitted a lapel mike to each of them. Jack was a veteran of the process, having done a few interviews over the years. While each network and studio had its quirks, for the most part it was the same. Finally, a producer spoke from behind the safety of the camera and told them there was one minute until the show.

Jack watched one of the many monitors around the studio as the program’s splash graphic played. When it was finished, the shot panned around the studio before landing squarely on Serrenko and himself, seated on either side of the desk. Serrenko smiled straight down the camera as the intro music faded. Jack stayed still as she read her opening.

“Good evening. Welcome to
Insight
, I’m Andrea Serrenko.” She turned to look into another camera as the shot shifted. “Tonight we have Jack Emery, former political editor for the
New York Standard
and Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist, in the studio. On the same day as the midterm elections, his blog post this morning about the corruption in and subversion of American politics threatens to rock the system to its core. Thank you for joining me, Mr Emery.”

Jack took a deep breath, leaned forward and smiled. “Please, call me Jack. Great to be with you.”

Serrenko gave a well-rehearsed smile. “Okay, Jack. The first thing I wanted to cover is why a journalist of your caliber is out of work at the moment. This all feels a bit too convenient.”

Jack swallowed. He hadn’t expected this to be easy. He still hadn’t reached the bottom of his firing, but from a conversation with Peter, it was pretty clearly linked to Michelle Dominique’s board push. He smiled. “Well, I’m open to offers, if you’re hiring.”

His attempt at humor fell on deaf ears, as Serrenko raised an eyebrow.

“Look, it’s a tough industry, now more than ever. My views didn’t match the direction of the paper, so they fired me. But this story is authentic, I’ve done the hard work. It stacks up.”

That was something Jack was sure about. Between the contents of the USB and the information he’d gained from Chen, he had a slam-dunk story against Dominique and the Foundation. He was certain it was enough to bring her down. And once she was eliminated, he hoped her whole rancid organization would decay and collapse.

Serrenko nodded. “Okay then, can you summarize for our viewers what your contention is? Particularly for those who haven’t yet read your blog.”

Jack bit his lip. This was it. “Okay. In short, there’s a politically cancerous think tank operating in Washington to undermine American democracy.”

Serrenko laughed in a way that felt dismissive. “Aren’t all think tanks doing that though, Jack? You’re going to need more than that.”

“Oh, of course, Andrea. But I’ve got clear evidence linking this group to the attacks in Shanghai, China—”

Serrenko interrupted. “You’re saying an American organization
attacked China?
”

Jack nodded. “Not directly, but without them there would have been no attacks. They provided the funds and helped the mastermind—Chen Shubian—with the logistics.”

“You have proof? Even more than what was on your blog today?” For the first time, Jack thought he might have her interested.

“Sure do—an interview with Chen Shubian. Along with documents and records that support his allegations.”

“Wait a minute.” Serrenko was incredulous. “You’ve
met
the main bomber? Wasn’t your wife killed in Shanghai?”

“Yes, I have, and yes, she was. I had to put aside my personal grievances for the good of the story. So this organization has a highly complex cell structure that takes its orders from Washington. If one cell is compromised, it looks like a small group of nut jobs, but I’ve been able to blow the lid off the whole organization.

“Just recently, they’ve had involvement in Shanghai, the war, the shooting of Ernest McDowell and the subversion of his company. And this is the tip of the iceberg. They’re now trying to get their members into Congress. If I had the resources, I’d have found more. I trust the FBI will have an easy time of it. I’d be more than happy to help.”

Serrenko clearly knew a bombshell when she heard one, and when something was being held back. Her eyes narrowed. “Give me the name of the organization, Jack.”

Jack stared straight down the camera. He had prepared most for this next part. He could have easily have dropped the Foundation for a New America and Michelle Dominique in the deep end by naming them on his blog, but he’d needed the protection of being a national celebrity with a story that people wanted to hear. 

“Michelle Dominique and the Foundation for a New America.” Jack looked down at his cell phone. “And, according to the newsfeed, your next member of Congress.”

***

Michelle squinted but kept a smile on her face as the camera flashes rolled like a wave across her vision. She smiled again, then walked to the lectern. Her mind wasn’t in the whole victory event, really, but she had to go through the motions. Jack Emery’s blog post and subsequent interview on
Insight
had changed the focus of the day—from triumph at being elected to damage control. She had to do this then get to work.

She rushed through her speech, batting off the same lines that had been home runs with the voters and seen her elected with a massive margin. She paused for applause at the right times, smiled for the cameras and the crowd at the right times, and gave the speech only enough mental energy required to avoid blunders. She thanked her supporters, and congratulated the other Foundation-aligned candidates who’d won.

Most importantly, she denied the allegations Jack Emery had made and explained he was a bitter ex-employee with a drinking problem. The crowd had cheered her and booed him, but she knew that the room was full of her supporters. She’d have a much tougher time with the general public. Not to mention the FBI. She waved and walked backstage.

Waiting for her in the green room were Erik and Andrei Shadd. They stood impassively off to the side, in the exact same spots from which they’d delivered the news about Emery’s interview, just before she took the stage for her speech. She walked over to the side table and poured herself a drink, then threw the pitcher across the room. It exploded in a spray of glass and painted the white wall with grapefruit juice. She didn’t care. She was tempted to set the whole building on fire. She’d never felt anger like this.

“All this information!” She picked up her iPad and threw it across the room.

“All this power!” She moved to the window and ripped the curtains down.

“For what!” She kicked over a vase, which smashed with a satisfying spray of glass.

Andrei moved closer. “It’s not that bad. You have a number of options.”

She stared at him, tempted to punch his lights out, but after a few moments she exhaled deeply and sat on the arm of the sofa. “We need to turn this around or the FBI is going to come knocking. If that happens, it’s only a matter of time before you’re both being gang-banged at Rikers, and I’m giving some lady a little something to stay alive.”

Andrei shrugged. “There were always bound to be setbacks. It’s not possible to run an organization as ambitious and as large as ours without the odd problem. Look at all the messes Anton cleaned up over the years.”

“This is more dangerous than anything he ever dealt with. We’re named, gentlemen. That changes everything. In addition to the Feds, the other cells will be gunning for me too.”

She thought for a moment. She was a student of politics, but equally adept at history. When things got desperate, it was the individual or the country that could be the most ruthless that generally won the day. An idea popped into her head. She mulled it over, then decided. It was her only option.

“We’re going to take a leaf out of Stalin’s book.” She raised her head to look at the brothers, who winced at the reference to Uncle Joe. “Scorched earth.”

Andrei frowned in thought, then smiled. “Let them have most of it, but protect the core.”

Michelle smiled. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. “Precisely.”

The Foundation had a huge amount of influence in all sorts of areas. While it would hurt to give up some of her power and her people, by doing so she might have a fighting chance to stay alive and keep the core of the organization—and its influence—intact. The rest was expendable. It was the only way to survive. To recover. To succeed.

Michelle stood. “We need to inoculate our core. We need to totally cut off our central organs from the rest of the body. That’s your job. Expose them, kill them. Whatever.”

“Easier said than done, Michelle.” Erik shook his head. “I doubt large parts of the organization will take kindly to being hung out to dry.”

“I don’t care. Do it. Today. I’ll take care of protecting the important stuff.”

Andrei’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

Michelle smiled. “I’ve had something up our sleeve in case we needed it.”

She picked up the phone and dialed her assistant. “Mallory, I’ll need the Heisman file ready when I get back to the office. It’s urgent, okay?”

She hung up without waiting for a response. Both of the brothers had confused looks on their faces, but it was Andrei who spoke first. “The Heisman file?”

Michelle smiled. “A dirt file on the President so large it will bring him down.”

“Isn’t using something like that a bit…final?”

“Yeah, it’s like dropping the bomb on Hiroshima, but we don’t have a choice. I’ll meet with him and keep the government and the Bureau off our case. If we can use our leverage over Kurzon to keep the FBI off our backs long enough, we can feed most of the organization to the wolves, but protect the most important parts. We
can
recover.”

The brothers nodded.

“Andrei, you take care of Emery. Erik, you handle the Foundation liquidation. When I drop this file on Kurzon’s desk, he’ll be eating out of our hands like a lamb and we’ll be able to protect ourselves. And if he doesn’t cooperate, we’ll make it public and be yesterday’s news.”

Jack smiled wearily at the flight attendant as he walked past her. “Thanks.”

“Our pleasure, sir.” The woman was far too perky for someone who flew for a living. “Thanks for flying with United.”

Jack nodded then turned to Celeste. “Let’s go.”

She nodded. “Man, I can't wait for a shower and sleep.”

He laughed but said nothing. He hefted his backpack over his shoulder and walked through the door of the aircraft and onto the sky bridge. It had been over two days since he’d slept properly, jetting from Taiwan, to Hawaii, to LA, to Washington. The entire time, he’d been getting word out about his story, which had gone all the more nuclear since his interview with Serrenko and Dominique’s election win.

He wrapped an arm around Celeste as they walked. “I really appreciate your support through all this.”

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “My pleasure. But I don’t think it’s going to get any easier any time soon.”

“I know.” Once he stepped out of the artificial environment of the airport, things were going to get crazy.

He exhaled deeply and stepped into the terminal. As he looked around, he felt Celeste grab his arm and squeeze tight. He looked at her and her eyes were wide, locked on a group of men standing on the other side of the terminal. He looked at them and recognized only one of the four but still felt a spike of fear. Recognizing one was enough. It was the same man who’d bailed him and Celeste up at Chen’s house in Wisconsin.

This wasn’t good. He’d thought that in the wake of his release of the information, his public profile would be enough to prevent Dominique from moving against him. He’d been wrong.

Celeste seemed on the verge of complete panic. “Holy fuck, Jack. They’re here.
He’s here.
”

Jack grabbed Celeste’s arm and they turned and started to walk toward the baggage claim. In his peripheral vision he could see the Foundation goons fall into an easy stroll behind him. Jack picked up his pace, pulled out his cell phone and dialed Peter Weston. He held the phone to his ear and increased the speed of his walking. The phone rang, time after time, but there was no answer.

He looked back. The men were getting closer. While he doubted they’d try anything at Dulles International Airport, with all the security in the world watching them, he had no doubt that as soon as he and Celeste left the building and got a fair distance away, they’d strike. He had to prevent that. He could approach the police, but they’d do nothing if there was no clear threat. There was only one way they’d pay attention.

He turned to Celeste as they kept walking. “As soon as we round this corner, stop and cry out for help. As loud as you can.”

“Why?” She looked at him as they turned a corner, then shrugged. “HELP! HELP ME!”

Jack kept walking as Celeste stopped in her tracks. He waited a few moments before looking back. She had gathered a small crowd of airport staff and concerned travelers. Most importantly, the gentlemen trailing them had kept moving. He was their primary target, and they weren’t interested in making a scene with a woman who was already shouting for help. Celeste was safe. Now he had to figure out something for himself.

He walked, mind racing for ideas but coming up blank. He looked down at his cell phone, thinking of who else to call, when he became vaguely aware of someone else getting in his way. He put the phone down and stopped walking, looking up at the pair of strangers with a mix of curiosity and dread. After all he’d been through, from the carrier to his torture to finding Chen, this was how it was going to end.

One of the suited man took a slight step forward. “Jack Emery?”

Jack cursed himself for not anticipating that the Foundation would send two teams—one to flush him out and one to scoop him up. Despite that, he saw no reason to make it easy for them. Whatever noise and fuss he could make as they dealt with him, he’d make. He turned around. The four men who’d initially pursued him had stopped dead in their tracks and were now doing their best to look completely disinterested. 

“Are you Jack Emery? I won’t ask again.”

Jack relaxed slightly, turned back around and summed up the new arrival. Dark suit, dark sunglasses, a buddy dressed in exactly the same way. He nearly laughed. “Yeah?”

The other man was expressionless as he produced ID. “I’m Agent Brenner, FBI. This is Agent Vaughn. Looks like you could use a friend or two right now.”

Jack looked back again. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Brenner was impassive as he put a hand gently on Jack’s back. “Come with us.”

“Can you look after my colleague, Celeste Adams? She’s back there near gate 6A.”

Brenner turned to Vaughn. “Go get her and meet us at the café.”

“Thanks.” Jack smiled with relief as Vaughn peeled off and headed in the direction of Celeste. It had been far too close a call for his liking. He looked back at his pursuers. The one he recognized from Wisconsin seemed pissed.

He walked with Brenner in silence through the arrivals hall. He didn’t really know what was in store, but the FBI would no doubt be better company than the Foundation. His interview with Serrenko had clearly had an impact, both on Dominique and on the Federal Government, now he just had to hope he had enough ammunition to keep the authorities interested.

After a few minutes, Brenner stopped next to one of the cafés in the airport. “Mr Emery, the director will see you in here. I’ll keep the bad guys away.”

“Thanks. And Celeste?”

“Sorted. I suggest you don’t keep Director McGhinnist waiting.”

Jack entered the cafeteria and stood next to the only occupied table. Seated there was a large African-American man, who looked as if he could crack Jack open like a walnut. Jack had done his research and knew that Bill McGhinnist, ex-Navy Seal, Director of the FBI, probably could. McGhinnist calmly took one last sip of his coffee, put the cup down then stood to face Jack.

“Good morning, Director McGhinnist.” Jack held out his hand. “I’m Jack Emery.”

“Bill will do, Mr Emery.” McGhinnist shook his hand. “Thanks for agreeing to meet.”

Jack laughed. “Your agents made a pretty compelling offer. And please, call me Jack.”

“Glad they could save you a headache or two. I thought a little show of force might be helpful.” McGhinnist laughed and sat down. “I won’t even charge you for it, if your information is as good as you claim. Take a seat, Jack.”

Jack did as he was told. “It is.”

“You have made a lot of people nervous and you’ve hardly set about making friends in all of this. But I was intrigued by your blog and your interview. So I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. You better not be wasting my time, Jack. It’s a busy time for everyone.”

Jack could tell that McGhinnist had a lot on his plate, no doubt because of the war. He’d also be nervous at the thought of Jack’s information, which shed new light on the causes of the war and left many prominent Americans with question marks over their head, including a few brand-new members of Congress. Jack was going to have to show off his garter belt before the big dance if he had any hope of enlisting the Bureau’s help.

“I’ve got a lot of evidence linking the Foundation and Michelle Dominique to prominent politicians, business interests, the media—you name it. It’s more than lobbying and the odd long lunch. We’re talking about endemic political corruption, insider trading, money laundering, perjury, fraud, blackmail, murder—and a whole lot more. They’re a bunch of nasty fuckers.”

Jack swallowed hard. “I’ve also got evidence linking them to the attacks on Shanghai and to the war with China. A Taiwanese national named Chen Shubian worked with Dominique and organized the attacks using a secure server the Foundation established. He was funded by a series of front companies that I’ve linked to the Foundation, plus Dominique was in Shanghai in the days before and immediately after the attacks.”

McGhinnist frowned. “And there’s more, I trust?”

Jack smiled. “Sure is. She’s taken control of EMCorp and now Foundation-aligned candidates have been elected en masse into Congress. They’re taking control, Bill.”

Jack could clearly see the director tense, but he knew the man was interested. “Your allegations affect some very influential people, Mr Emery. Not to mention the war.”

“Jack, remember? I’ve got the evidence to back it all up, both from Chen’s confession and Anton Clark’s computer files. Look, I know better than most the power of that organization and its people, but it changes nothing.”

“Oh, it changes everything, Jack. Michelle Dominique has a large power base in Washington. I’m not sure you realize what you’re asking me to do, Jack, to declare war on the entire Washington elite at the same time as we’re at war with China.”

Jack could see the man was torn. “That’s about the sum of it, yeah.”

McGhinnist sighed. “The war is going well, but we’ve lost a couple of carriers, countless air force birds and half of Taiwan has been flattened. The world is now a very different place. The last thing I want is to start a forest fire in Washington.”

“I know. But you’re my only hope.”

He looked up at McGhinnist, who was silent. He’d given him everything except Ernest’s links to the Foundation. He didn’t quite know what he’d do if McGhinnist declined to help. He’d have to walk outside and into the arms of the Foundation thugs, having succeeded in releasing the story but failing to protect himself and those he cared about. Plus, it would likely save the Foundation from complete destruction.

His vengeance would be incomplete.

Jack dug into his pocket and pulled out the USB containing the evidence. He placed it on the table. “There are strings attached to the information. Some of it incriminates Ernest McDowell, and I want that particular part of it forgotten about. Also, Chen Shubian needs immunity. It was the price of his evidence.”

McGhinnist looked down at the USB, then up at Jack with a smile. “You’re a cheeky bastard, but I like that. I couldn’t care less about a dead old man, so that’s fine. As for Shubian, he blew up half of China, not Los Angeles or Chicago, so what do I care? You’ve got a deal.”

Jack nodded. “The password is Erin.”

McGhinnist exhaled, longer and louder than any man Jack had ever heard. “Okay, Jack. I just hope you know what you’re getting us into. This is going to hurt, but I’ll set up a task force and lead it personally. We’ll wrap this network up in a matter of days.”

Jack stood. “You have my number, if you need anything at all, or if the information isn’t clear to your analysts, I’d be happy to help.”

“Okay. In the meantime, I’ll put you and your friend up at a hotel and put my guys on protection duty.” McGhinnist stood as well, patted Jack’s back then paused. “Tell me one thing, though. How did you begin to link all of this to Dominique and the Foundation?”

Jack paused, then decided it was best not to lie to the man. “Um…would you believe that I slept with her and ransacked her apartment?”

‘Damn!” McGhinnist laughed, clearly impressed. “I’ve admired her from afar for years! I’m going to ignore the felony just to hear that story at a later date.”

***

Michelle steeled herself, but kept her smile pristine. “Mr President.”

President Kurzon didn’t stand, but gestured her to a seat. “Congratulations on your election, Michelle. How was your flight?”

“Fine, Mr President.” Michelle sat. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

She’d flown the short distance from Washington to Maryland, then been driven to Camp David. She hadn’t wanted to leave the capital with the FBI threatening to roll up on the Foundation’s doorstep at any moment, but it was the only way to rein in the situation.

“You didn’t give me much choice, given what you claim to possess. So what can I do for you? I’ve got a two o’clock with the Australian ambassador.” Kurzon’s tone was cold.

Michelle sat. “The Bureau is about to start arresting or harassing half of my people on charges that are trash. I want you to make it stop so we can get on with our business.”

Kurzon waved his hand. “A nasty situation. I don’t know the specifics, but it sounds like some of your people have been freelancing, to say nothing of yourself.”

“The problem is a bit bigger than that.”

“How so? Bill McGhinnist wouldn’t be pursuing this if he didn’t have reason. Just keep your hands clean and you’ll be fine.” Kurzon started to stand. “Is that all?”

Michelle remained where she was. “No.”

Kurzon sat back down. “Right, let me have it.”

Michelle reached into her handbag and pulled out her iPad. She unlocked it and hit play on the video that was ready to go. She turned the screen to Kurzon. She didn’t have to watch it again to know what he was seeing: himself having sex with a young woman. She tried to hide her smile as he realized what this meant for his presidency.

“She really doesn’t look sixteen, does she?”

Kurzon watched the whole thing. He had the look of a frightened child in his eyes. “Where did you get this?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

He sighed. “Fucking hell.”

She was a bit surprised that he didn’t deny his involvement or try to talk her out of releasing it. They both knew that this would end his presidency, ruin his legacy and probably send him to jail. She was relying on it. Only direct intervention by Kurzon would make the various arms of the Federal Government go away.