COVERT WRITERS TAKEDOWN, Joe Bergeron [epub e ink reader .txt] 📗

things, I’m sure, and he’s gone. So she’s
got to have the remaining partners.”
He drew, and released, a deep breath.
“Why would she and her partners want to keep
something so valuable away from their country?
Santiago wants support, so I don’t think she’s involved
with him. We can’t guess at Belize’s position until
Robert gets us more data, but I’d guess he was Pro-
American also.” 186
She followed, but questioned.
Why do you say that?”
“Because Santiago wouldn’t keep him around if
he wasn’t.”
“What if President Santiago didn’t know
everything his Vice President was doing?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think you can make
that assumption right now.”
“OK…what if we…”
Gerry Allison had appeared, right index finger
raised.
“Thanks Gerry.”
He hit the speaker button.
“This is Michael Courtney.”
“Listen up, philosopher. I have your
instructions. Do you have a pad and pen to write this
down?”
“Sure.”
“We want stories across the country by all
three hundred writers to articulate different messages,
but everyone will write negatively regarding the Cuban
Economic Reform Plan. In all your eastern newspapers,
wherever a state touches the Atlantic, your writers will
composite the negative effects of the money supply, and
the decrease in new building permits. Through
Minnesota, Illinois, Michigan, Ohio, Oklahoma,
Pennsylvania, Texas, and Tennessee, they’ll play off the
lack of orders for new plants and equipment, and fasts
vendor deliveries. In the rest of your papers, they’ll
work with lower prices for sensitive materials, and the
low trading volumes currently on the New York Stock
Exchange and NASDAQ. Are you with me so far?”
“I have it.”
“We want each of your writers to place twelve
stories in the next ninety days. Remember, we have the
list, and we’ll be looking for the bylines. That’s all for
now. Get your people mobilized, and make sure they
understand. 187
I’ll get you your release dates, the first one will
be next week. Then you’ll hear from me again as we
move along.”
“That’s it? That’s all you want? Do you know
what the hell you’re asking? You want me to
compromise this whole organization for your benefit.
You want me to tell all my people to produce stories
they know I would never ask them to write. How the
hell do you suggest I go about this.”
“Use the Economic Indicators I just gave you,
Courtney. I keep getting told you’re the bright one.”
“You’re looking for bylines as early as next
week. I need some time to put this together.”
“Well, then get your ass in gear. I’ll call you
again.”
The phone clicked, and hummed
“Seems like he’s got it now, doesn’t it, Michael?”
“Yeah, and he’s also got a friend telling him
we’re smart.”
He made a mental note.
‘Breacher’s friend.’
“Are you going to do what he’s asking?”
“Yes, we’ll follow his plan, but our own way..”
Tuesday, May 23, 2:05 p.m.
The printouts were generated through an
access code system that had reached into the data bases
at The Central Intelligence Agency. It was an allowed
breach available to the organization that neither
Michael Courtney nor Andy St. Croix new the whole
truth about.
Robert Wirtham, sitting behind a pile of
computer paper, began his debriefing for Courtney.
“Belize is a holdover from the old government,
Michael. He was a Senior Government Official with no
tight title. Castro kept him as an advisor on all sorts of
projects, but mostly financial initiatives.
188
He’s a Harvard alumnus, very bright, degreed in
economics and finance. He never officially joined the
Communist Party, but he was a loyal troop to the Old
Man. Santiago picked him for the number two spot
because he needed a transitional figure from the old
government with a flair for Economics. It’s Belize who’s
doing all the negotiating with our Secretary of
Commerce regarding the American Corps and their
presence on the island.”
JGM’s President turned a page.
“Belize also holds the purse strings of Cuba
acting as Chief of The Treasury, and can flip millions
around with the stroke of a pen. Santiago seems to
have a lot of faith in his judgment, although he hasn’t
signed any big checks yet. OK, that’s him.”
Another page was turned.
Catalina Salazar is Belize’s Administrative
Assistant. She came out of Havana’s slums and got an
education for herself at The University of Miami. She
has a B.S. in Accounting, and an MBA in Finance. She
returned to the island to work in the government
despite the fact that she had offers from corps like
Prudential-Bache, and Arthur Anderson. Belize took
her under his wing, and she’s been working for him ever
since.
Another page was turned.
Dan Bellcamp is a Laws Candidate out of
Arizona State. He’s a prolific writer with great
communication skills, which helped him become M.E of
THE MIAMI HERALD at the age of thirty-six. He’s
been known to be a pain in the butt, and he can be
obstinate as hell, but he’s a smart man that knows how
to put words together to move people. Right now, no
one has a clue as to where he is, and because he doesn’t
have any relatives that miss him, there’s no public
officials out looking for him.”
Wirtham looked up from his stack of pages.
189
“ Andy’s brought back enough data to convince
me that Bellcamp’s tied up in the breach with Belize
and Salazar. There’s no apparent power struggle
between Belize and Santiago. We know from people
inside THE HERALD that Bellcamp was working on a
story with both Salazar and Belize, so that while it
might have appeared coincidental that he be associated
with their names, the two goons Andy met at Bellcamp’s
house negated that. One of them gave Andy Belize’s
name rather than face the unfriendly side of Mister St.
Croix.”
He returned to his pages.
Tom Griffin’s only been with us a short time,
but he’s a good writer, and he has great potential. The
kid’s always on time with his writes, and expresses our
point of view very dramatically through every TAC.
Another page was turned.
“George Tollman is a Harvard MBA, and a
former President of Beechman Aircraft. He lives well,
and he’s a good deal maker. While he hasn’t stopped
American corps from becoming involved in Cuba, he’s
also not a champion of the idea. He thinks we need to
evaluate our capital and labor resources, and our needs
at home before we invest in the island.”
Wirtham looked up with concluding remarks.
“He also cites a renewed Russian threat, or a
possible Sino/Soviet return to Cuba, but that argument
is losing its validity daily.”
Wirtham released his hands from the
computer-generated workouts.
His face serious, his attention and eye direction
turned to the woman sitting beside his former student.
He addressed her.
“Kathleen, George Tollman was also your brother John’s
Company Commander in Vietnam. I’m only putting
that on the table because it’s a fact, but I think it might
be something worth reviewing.”
190
She carried a photo of him - not the marine, not
the soldier - but the brother; the older brother she never
knew, never touched, never spoke to, but always loved.
She didn’t need to respond.
Wirtham concluded.
“Let me know what your next step is Michael.
Andy is putting some tactical data together he wants
me to review - I’ll brief you later.”
He turned to face her.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, just feeling very sensitive about my
brother, John, and the fact that George Tollman was his
Commanding Officer. I’d like to go to the library and do
some work on that. Will you come with me?”
“Of course. I need to talk to Robert about some
time sequences. Just give me a few minutes with him.”
“OK.”
She seemed both lost and found.
When she’d left the room, he returned to
Wirtham.
“Where’d we get all that information on these
people?”
“What do you mean? Off our system.”
“I knew we had the economic stuff, but I didn’t
think we could get that detailed on people.”
“We cross reference with some government
computers.”
“Whose?”
Wirtham got up, not wanting to continue the
conversation.
“It’s simple, they’re just data banks available to
anyone. Aren’t you going with Kay?”
Courtney’s intuition told him an impropriety
had just been commissioned by his former professor.
Something wasn’t right.
He mentally filed the moment.
“OK, I was just wondering.”
Wirtham didn’t look at him as he left the room.
191
He also knew it wouldn’t be long before his
student got to the truth.
Tuesday, May 23, 5:15 p.m.
The District of Columbia library and its
attending branches house over two million bound
volumes of literature.
None of these volumes was of any consequence
to them this afternoon.
What was more important was the newspaper
microfilm files stored in the cavernous vaults of D.C.’s
cultural residence.
Prior, in an earlier time, she’d reviewed with
Robert, the time sequences, Asian geography, and
combat unit designations pertinent to her brother’s
case. She knew them by heart.
She and Courtney sat side by side reviewing
newspaper pages photographically engraved on silver
halides.
In one chronological series of stories, she’d
counted over sixty newspapers carrying accounts of the
‘Massacre at La Dang,’ and had read through sixteen of
those accounts.
Kathleen McKenzie was a fast researcher, and
a good mental detective. In a little over two hours she’d
found several sensational descriptions of the cause of
the events.
Beneath each photo of the La Dang atrocity
was something even trained observers might overlook
because of its commonality to every photo reproduced in
a newspaper - the photographic credit.
In every shot she reviewed, there was only one
credit.
‘Photo Courtesy of CBS NEWS, Inc.’
Courtney, reviewing the same photos, hadn’t
missed the credit either, and, in fact, had noted it
several times.
192
“Michael, How many photos have you seen.”
He made a quick mental calculation.
“Twelve or so.”
“All the one’s I’ve seen have the same credit,
CBS NEWS”
“Let me check my notes.”
Flipping through six pages, he numbered his
writings.
“I have fourteen - all CBS NEWS. What are
you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that CBS would probably still
have the film or videotape, and I’d like to see it.
“Are you sure you want to do that, Kay?”
“Yes…I am. Tell me what you got out of this.”
“There’s not one shred of evidence in
everything I’ve read that could tie John to the events of
that day - everything is conjecture. In all the articles,
there’s very few mentions of Tollman. He never
defended John - didn’t even bother to give an account of
what type of marine he was, or wasn’t. He just threw
his hands up in the air and chalked it all up to the
consequences of war.”
He squared his body to hers.
“How the hell can somebody be that undefined
about something like this? Consider this too. How can
a guy who becomes President of a major aircraft
manufacturing company, who takes that company from
a medium sized corporation to become one of the
industry giants, act so wobbly about the Cuban
initiatives, and act just as wobbly as a Marine Corps
Commander? You don’t become what Tollman became
by being indecisive. He’s bright, Kay, he has a Harvard
MBA. Everything he did after John died, and
everything he’s doing now just don’t fit the profile of
who he really has to be to have become what he’s
become.”
193
He touched her gently on the arm.
“Come on. Let’s go back to the hotel and call
Eddie Dalger. If anyone knows someone at CBS, it will
be him.”
After making several photo copies, they left.
Tuesday, May 23, 7:16 p.m.
“Hello, Ellen - this is Kathleen McKenzie. I’m
sorry to bother you, but may I please speak with Eddie?
“Hold on, Kathleen, he just