Know that you have been thusly forewarned, and that the next time we act, it will be with clever subterfuge.
4. The war plan of this offensive has already been put into action. A second Civil War has now begun, and this time we fight to free the WHITE MAN, who has been unjustly enslaved with the responsibility of perpetuating the Jewish created welfare state. No longer will we sacrifice our best years supporting the lazy immigrants and racial minorities, for whom this system was designed to give a free ride.
5. We recognize that the true enemy is International Jewry. Their intention is to create a one-world government, in an attempt to satisfy an insatiable greed. On this very day, the Elders of Zion have called together the world’s leaders, for a summit whose purpose is to seal this conspiracy. WE ARE NOT FOOLED!!! And to destroy this Godless cabal once and for all, the Sons of the Patriots intend to strike a blow for liberty. Rejoice you who carry the yoke of oppression. The ATTACK ON THE QUEEN has begun!
Thomas reread this last sentence and only then allowed himself to look up into the worried glance of McShane. The director solemnly nodded and said in a determined whisper, “We don’t know who this group is yet, even if there is such an organization. But I’ll tell you this: We’ll get the sick bastard this time. I just know it.”
Though he wished he could share his superior’s optimism, Thomas could think of only one selfish thing: Somewhere out on the Atlantic, his own brother was sailing aboard the very ship that this madman had threatened to attack. He needed to reach him immediately.
12
By 0800 the QE2 was far out to sea, and Vince Kellogg was off to the Boardroom to begin his first watch of the day. Waiting for him there was a U. S. Customs Service official and Beowulf, her bomb-sniffing German shepherd. A member of the QE2’s security staff unlocked the Board room for them. Beowulf was then led inside, along with agents representing France, Russia, and Japan.
It took them a quarter of an hour to complete a thorough sweep of the compartment. Even after Beowulf’s sensitive nose gave the all clear, the agents still went to their hands and knees to search the bottom of the furniture for anything that didn’t belong there. The Russians went to the extreme of using an electronic scanner to check the walls and carpet for possible microphones and other eavesdropping devices.
Nothing of the sort was found, and just as the room was about to be resealed, Robert Hartweu’s arrival signaled the imminent approach of the heads of state.
The chancellor of Germany and his party of translator and two security guards were the first to show themselves. This group was followed closely by the other statesmen, with the American President escorted solely by Samuel Morrison. The Italian prime minister was the last to arrive, and as the doors to the Boardroom were shut, Vince joined Morrison and Hartwell in the anteroom. Chairs had been set up here for the various security personnel, along with a table holding coffee, tea, and sweet rolls.
This opening session was to be followed by a luncheon in the Queens Grill. Because the Boardroom was effectively sealed off from the rest of the ship, the security staffs had little to do but patiently bide their time, all the while being available for an unexpected break or other disturbance.
“Well, gents,” said Hartwell, after pouring himself a cup of tea. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that our first night at sea was incident-free. The only problem to speak of is in the ship’s Radio Room.
Unusual atmospheric conditions have caused us to lose the services of the commercial communications satellite that normally handles our telephone calls. V. I.P transmissions have to be rerouted to military backup platforms, though I’m afraid that telephone calls of a personal nature are no longer possible.”
Vince had positioned himself so that he had a clear view of the Boardroom’s closed doors and the various agents milling in front of them. “So much for calling my wife.”
“Yes, but look at all the money you’ll save,” Hartwell said. “I believe it’s fifty dollars for a three-minute call to the States. By the way, I do hope that your quarters are sufficient, and that you slept well,” asked Hartwell.
The SAIC replied, stifling a yawn. “My stateroom’s fine, though it looks like I’m going to need some time to adjust to the roll of the ship.”
“I slept great,” Vince admitted. “Before hitting the sack, I even got a chance to squeeze in a visit to the Gym. Ran into Monica Chang herself.
I tell you, she’s as pretty in person as she is on the screen.”
“I hope that you chaps caught the stunning photo of Miss. Chang gracing the front cover of the Daily Programme,” Hartwell interjected. “Her aerobics classes should be well attended indeed. And I hear the French president would like to engage her as his personal trainer.”
Thomas grinned. “While I was with her, I found out that the Gym has its own refrigerator and microwave. She let me take a peek, and I seriously doubt that’s the source of the contamination.”
“Late last night, I had a brief meeting with Doc Benedict and your own Dr. Patton,” Hartwell added. “Together they plan another inspection of the main Kitchen and food storage areas. They’re also going to circulate an inquiry amongst the stewards, to find out if they can help us.”
“I was hoping that we’d finally get some sort of definitive statement from the Hospital,” said Morrison. “Back at the loading dock, Dennis Liu said something about having just come back from visiting his coworkers there. Vince, maybe it’s worth another trip to the Gym to find out if they said anything to Liu that he forgot to share with us.”
Before Vince could reply, the door to the Boardroom swung open from inside. This unexpected disturbance caught the attention of the other security agents as well. Their probing stares locked on the source of this movement, a single uniformed steward pushing an empty food service cart. The steward froze. For a brief moment, the sounds of a spirited discussion could be heard from inside the room, then he regained his composure and closed the doors behind him.
Vince continued to watch the steward as he headed for the adjoining passageway, where he was forced to brake his cart to a sudden halt again when a young man rounded the corner and almost collided with him. This newcomer was casually dressed in khakis and a black sweater. He stepped aside to let the startled steward pass, and Vince caught a glimpse of the stranger’s long, black hair that was tied in a ponytail. It was obvious that he didn’t belong to any of the security teams, who had also noted his presence and collectively watched his approach suspiciously.
Samuel Morrison, of all people, greeted this handsome, smooth-shaven young man. “Hello, Ricky. What brings you up here?”
There was a noticeable limp to the newcomer’s step as he crossed the room and joined them. “Good morning, sir,” he replied sheepishly, well aware of the intense stares his arrival had generated.
The SAIC put him at ease by patting him warmly on the back, and after introducing his coworkers, said, “Ricky is Dr. Patton’s son,” while the youngster exchanged handshakes.
“I bet you’ve come for that list of stewards that I promised to deliver to your father right after breakfast,” presumed Hartwell.
Ricky nodded affirmatively. Hartwell glanced down at his watch.
“Please convey my apologies to him, and let him know that I’ll have it to him by lunch.”
“Ricky, here, is coming off quite a summer,” said Samuel Morrison as he put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Son, why don’t you tell them what you’ve been going through?”
Ricky shyly replied. “It wasn’t all that much, sir. I just went and broke my leg a week before school let out.”