Underground (33 page)

Read Underground Online

Authors: Andrew Mcgahan,Andrew McGahan

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Terrorism, #Military, #History

‘So book a hotel. What do you need a whole city for?’

‘You can’t do it with just one
meeting
. It has to be ongoing. You need offices, you need diplomatic staff, you need the bureaucracy, you need standing committees and commissions. What you need, in fact, is a world government. The UN was supposed to be that, but it’s a farce. You can’t organise over a
hundred and fifty different regimes into anything coherent. No—what you need is the dozen most powerful nations, along with their respective militaries, plus all the top corporations and money men . . . Then you can really get down to business, without having to worry about protests, or riots, or opinion polls. And Canberra was so
right.
All the infrastructure was here. All the bureaucratic space, all the diplomatic space. The city might have been built exactly for this very purpose.’

I said, ‘So America and Australia run this place together?’

‘Only as hosts, Leo. It’s open to all our friends. The Europeans. The Chinese. The Japanese. The Russians. The CEOs of the major transnational corporations. Oil traders. Arms dealers. You name it. The place is a convention centre, really.’

‘You even invite the terrorists.’

‘Terrorists?’

‘I saw him. Bin Laden.’

‘Oh. Well, all in the name of peace and order in the world.’

‘Peace? I thought we were at war with him.’

‘We are, Leo, of course we are. With him and others like him. But understand. War isn’t as simple as one side versus the other.’

‘What is it then?’

Sam was silent for a time. I had a vision of him, his withered face creased in earnest thought. Because that’s how he sounded. Earnest. Sincere.

‘Take the United States, for example,’ he said. ‘We’ve developed into a certain kind of country lately. In many ways—socially, racially, economically—we’re quite a mess. It’s not really possible for us to survive with stability as a nation anymore—not unless we have a unifying purpose. In short, Leo, we need an enemy. The blacks, the Hispanics, the poor, the left wing, the religious crazies—they’re a big problem for us, even now. But they’d be burning down our cities if we didn’t keep them busy fighting someone
other
than their own government.’

‘Next you’ll be telling me you did 9-11 yourselves.’

He laughed again. ‘No, Leo. That wasn’t us. But it was a godsend, no mistake. And that’s really the point. September 11 was useful, sure, but it was too random. We had no idea what else al-Qaeda might be up to, or where they’d hit next, and that’s not good for business. So of course we declared war on them and invaded some countries. But in the meantime, we put out feelers, and we talked, and we came to an arrangement. An alliance of kinds, actually.’

‘Al-Qaeda were willing to make a deal? With
you
people?’

‘Good heavens, yes. They’re in the same boat. Maybe the US can’t survive without an enemy, but the terrorist groups
certainly
can’t. Lord, if we ever actually pulled out of the Middle East and left the Arabs to themselves, then who would they have to blame for all the fuck-ups in their countries? How would bin Laden recruit any followers or have any power, if the Great Satan wasn’t around? No . . . He needs us, and we need him.’

‘Then why do you pretend bin Laden is dead?’

‘Oh, that was his idea. He was sick of the publicity, sick of hiding out in caves. The man likes a hot shower as much as the rest of us, Leo. So he was generous enough to throw us a bone and let us say we got our man. Even posed for the photos. And now he can run his side of things in peace.’

I heard him fumble in a compartment of the limousine, and then heard the click of a cigarette lighter. He puffed out smoke luxuriously.

‘What it comes down to, Leo, is a kind of double war. On one level it’s the official war—the West against the Islamists. But neither the western governments nor the Islamists want that war to end. What they both want is to stay in power, and to keep control over their own people. The people are the real problem, the civilians caught in the middle, the ones who are doing all the dying.
They
don’t want the war. Muslim or western, they’d
happily see it all stop tomorrow. The governments don’t want that. The terrorists don’t want that. The arms dealers don’t want that. The oil companies don’t want that. The big media bosses, they don’t want that either—nothing sells papers like the war on terror! So by default we all have to form an alliance against the people in the middle, just to keep the war going, and the status quo intact.’

‘And that’s why they shot Harry and Aisha? To keep the status quo intact?’

‘Well, you and your friends—your sudden appearance was incredibly unfortunate. Today isn’t just any ordinary day here, you understand. All these flights coming in—it’s the opening ceremony. We’re about to start the biggest international conference Canberra has hosted to date. A month-long working party to sort out exactly who is doing what and where and to whom over the next three years. The world’s a cake, if you will, and in the coming weeks we’re going to slice it up.’

I couldn’t take it in anymore. ‘This is insane!’

‘It’s practical. You’d rather just anarchy? You think the little wars we’re fighting now are bad? Believe me, they’re nothing. Hardly anyone actually dies, and business keeps ticking over. But you take away the system we’ve set up, then you’d have
real
wars. Governments collapsing. Millions dying. Economic ruin. Which is unacceptable. We’re doing a good thing here.’

And he meant it. He really did.

‘In fact, you should feel honoured, Leo. None of it would work if we hadn’t created the neutral ground here in Canberra. Australia’s right at the centre of it all. And if there’s one thing I know you Aussies love, it’s being in the thick of things. I know Bernard gets a kick out of it.’

And in my memory I was back in The Lodge, on the night before news of the bomb broke. I was in the Prime Minister’s office. I was talking to Bernard. And the little prick knew it was about to happen. He
knew.

‘My brother—he had no hesitation about this?’

‘Well, he took some convincing. After all, Canberra was already being used, wasn’t it? But we came up with the scenario to clear the city. And there were bonuses for him. A nuclear bomb, an outrageous attack upon Australian soil—the man was dying in the polls, I understand. How useful then to have something to make the country rally around.’

‘But the bomb,’ I said, grasping at straws. ‘We all saw it. On TV.’

‘Oh, there was a bomb. A real one. But not as big as we told everyone, and not nearly as dirty. We detonated it fifteen miles south, up in the hills. The TV cameras were to the north. They could see the mushroom cloud. But nothing else.’

‘Canberra in ruins. We saw that too.’

I could almost hear the shrug. ‘Industrial Light and Magic.’

And there were no straws left to grasp. ‘You bastards.’

He was offended. ‘No one even got hurt.’

‘No one? What about the people who found out the truth?’

‘Actually, we’ve done very well at keeping the city hush-hush. It’s not easy. Food and water and power have to come from somewhere. All those planes flying in and out. People will notice, sooner or later. The trick is to divert the eye.’

I nodded tiredly. ‘The Yass base.’

He sounded pleased with me. ‘Exactly. Purpose-built as cover. Lots of troops there, lots of supplies needed, lots of military flights coming and going. Then we just fudge the records. It seems to work, without too many people having to be in the know. And it’s not as if Canberra is as big as it used to be. I think the population was about three hundred thousand, before the bomb? It’s less than fifty thousand now, permanent residents. And in all honesty, we haven’t had to eliminate more than a few dozen curious souls who figured it out over the last two years.’

‘Jesus Christ . . .’

‘I certainly never thought
you
three would get this close.’

I closed my eyes under the hood. ‘It was an accident.’

‘An accident?’

‘That air traffic controller. He told us.’

‘You mean you didn’t know before? Honestly?’

‘How could we have?’

‘Ha! That’s a joke on us then.’

‘A joke?’

‘Well, you have to understand how it looked to us. We assumed that the Underground at least
suspected
about Canberra. We’ve been watching them very closely. We could tolerate them up to a point, of course, but not if they were going to expose the whole deal. And then things were brought to a head by that stupidity with Aisha’s boys kidnapping you in Queensland.’

‘It was a mistake, wasn’t it?’

‘It certainly was. Frankly, my advice had always been that, after we’d used them to fake Canberra, Southern Jihad should have been eliminated.’

‘But they weren’t.’

‘No. That was your brother’s call. The last thing he wants is an end to the state of emergency, so he needs regular terrorist attacks to keep up the tempo. A few bombs every year. A few assassinations. And if the targets happen to be Bernard’s political enemies, even from his own party, all the better for him. The Southern Jihad people had no idea what was really going on, they just thought they were some sort of uber-Muslims, fighting the good fight against the filthy westerners. So it all seemed harmless. Until some idiots up in Queensland decide, without orders, to kidnap the Prime Minister’s brother.’

‘So why not order the Jihad to let me go? Why stage a rescue attempt?’

He sighed. ‘Machinations, Leo. People got too clever by half. It was thought that Aisha and her boys might get suspicious about their superiors if they were ordered to merely hand you
over. You were quite a prize, after all. No
real
terrorist group would ever let you go. So the simplest solution seemed to be enacting a rescue. And if Aisha and her men died in the process, well, they were expendable anyway.’

‘But it got fucked up.’

‘Indeed it did. Things were all nicely taken care of—but then the Underground intervened, and suddenly it was a whole other ball game. For one thing, the timing couldn’t have been worse, what with the big conference about to start, and half the world’s leaders on their way here to Canberra.’

A dim light of comprehension began to glow. ‘Aisha. She knew that bin Laden was coming. She thought she was going to meet him.’

‘Precisely. The agents who run the Jihad had made a promise to her and her colleagues—an audience with bin Laden, their Great Hero. They weren’t going to meet him here in Canberra, of course. It would’ve happened somewhere else, under the pretence that bin Laden had snuck into Australia secretly. But they would have loved it. It was just a silly gimmick, really, to ensure their commitment to the cause. The problem was, they were told in advance. That was an error.’

‘I still don’t see why that made Aisha so dangerous. Or me.’

‘Concentrate, Leo. If we’d rescued you and shot Aisha, that would have been the end of it. You’d have been debriefed and told to forget it ever happened. Your brother may not like you, but he didn’t want you dead. Not at first.’

‘But after the rescue went wrong?’


Then
we were worried. Because suddenly you and Aisha were in the hands of the Underground. That was bad. We knew that the Underground would be questioning Aisha about her operations. And we knew that, eventually, she’d tell them about Osama coming to visit.’

‘She did. But no one believed her.’

‘They didn’t?’ He was almost laughing again. ‘Oh, Leo. That’s the problem with the covert world. We always give our enemies too much credit. We really thought the OU would put it all together. About Canberra and the big conference. About why bin Laden was coming. About the meeting between him and the President. Everything. And that was altogether too much for us to be comfortable with. So the order went out. Get Aisha. Get the Underground. And get you.’

‘Why me?’

‘You were there. We assumed that whatever Aisha knew, and the Underground knew, you knew too by then. And you’re the Prime Minister’s brother. If you ever got to speak out about these things, people might actually listen.’

‘And Bernard?’

‘Gave the order himself, I’m sorry to say.’

‘Fuck!’

‘But the punchline is—you’re telling me the Underground hadn’t worked it out anyway! We needn’t have bothered with any of this! Hilarious!’

I would have kicked him then, if I wasn’t blind, and if my leg wasn’t completely useless. But in any case, the limousine was coming to a stop.

‘We’re here,’ he told me.

The doors opened, and I was aware of other guards around me now as I climbed out. It seemed to be somewhere high and airy.

‘Where’s here?’ I asked.

Sam was at my side. ‘It’s your home for the immediate future.’

I was guided up some stairs and we entered what felt like a large, echoing room. From there, we were walking through corridors.

I said, ‘You mentioned the President before. You said “bin Laden meeting with the President.” I didn’t see Nate Harvey anywhere today.’

For once, Sam sounded annoyed with himself. ‘Well, it’s a long conference. There’s a lot to be discussed. But yes, Nate will be here in a few weeks.’

‘Is my brother here?’

‘Not yet, but he will be. He may want to see you when he arrives. He may not. But don’t think we’re keeping you alive just for his sake. Having disposed of your two companions, you’re the only one we have left to talk to about this last week. There’re some questions we want answered.’

‘I’ll bet.’

‘But Bernard did speak to me specifically about where we should keep you. This was his suggestion, not mine. Some sort of private joke, I suppose.’

We were going down some stairs now, and through another corridor. It seemed a long way, for just one building. But then we entered a chamber where there was soft carpet underfoot, and where the sound around me seemed deadened.

‘Take it off him,’ Sam ordered.

The hood came away.

I stared about. I saw a huge room, with banks of green leather seating sweeping up all around. I saw a long table at the centre, trimmed with more green leather, and surrounded by chairs. I saw viewing galleries high up on the walls.

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