“What is it? Finally found an old lady to polish your knob?”
“Not exactly.” Wow, this man was uncouth. “You’re going to have visitors in the next few hours.”
Milt chuckled. “Good one.”
“I’m currently aboard Air Force One with President Walters, his acting Secretary of the Treasury, and a couple of other passengers. We’re en route to Kentucky.”
A brief pause followed. “You’re not joking, are you?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“We don’t allow visitors. You know that as well as anyone.”
“You’re going to have to make an exception. President Walters has decided to institute a new monetary system centered around gold. He wants to make the announcement at your facility.”
“Drat it all to hell,” Milt said through clenched teeth. “Forget it. No one gets in here.”
“I know your secret.”
A long pause followed. “What?”
“I know what you’re hiding in Fort Knox. Father’s papers were very explicit on that matter.”
Milt exhaled. “Then you know damn well why I can’t let you inside.”
He didn’t have to elaborate. Ben knew the score. He knew what secret Milt was hiding deep inside the depository. And he knew that secret, when revealed, would destroy Milt’s reputation. It would destroy a lot of things.
He was counting on that.
“I can protect you,” Ben said. “But you have to do as I say…”
Chapter 42
“Sorry for the interruption, folks.” The driver’s voice crackled slightly from a pair of speakers. “But I thought you’d like to know we’re nearing our destination.”
Graham pressed an intercom button mounted on the wall next to him. “Thanks, Corporal.”
My body jostled as the SUV rode over a small bump. Our vehicle was one of about a dozen currently driving from Godman Army Airfield to the United States Bullion Depository.
Normally, the president traveled in a stylish, custom-built limousine, widely known as Calico. Other limos, along with military escort vehicles and at least one ambulance, accompanied Calico on all trips, foreign or domestic. But Calico was well-known to the general public and since our trip to Fort Knox was still a secret, the president had chosen to travel in more discreet fashion.
The resulting fleet, specially prepared for the trip, appeared nondescript from the outside. However, the cars were heavily armored and featured bulletproof glass as well as top-notch communication systems. The president’s car, which carried him along with Ben and Donovan, also contained a gas-proof chamber and a myriad of other defenses. Clearly, Fort Knox’s overseers were taking no chances.
Glancing over her shoulder, Beverly stared through the tinted back window. “Which car has the president?”
Graham yawned. “Who cares?”
We hadn’t merited inclusion in the president’s car. Instead, we’d been herded into an SUV driven by Corporal Christopher Wendell, an older man with a round head and a pug-like face.
“Just curious.” Beverly turned around again. “So, what do you guys make of this gold standard thing?”
“Interesting in theory,” I replied. “But it’ll never work.”
“Why not?”
“Like Dutch said, a gold standard doesn’t allow for money printing. Politicians will only be able to spend what they tax or borrow. How long do you think that’ll last?” I chuckled. “I predict failure within two weeks.”
“I call one week,” Graham said.
“If it’s going to fail, then why is President Walters doing it?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Stagflation is an economy killer. This must be his last resort.”
“So, what happens if the gold standard fails?”
“Hyperinflation. Economic depression. Riots and civil unrest. The end of America’s superpower status. Basically, everything goes from pretty good to pretty damn awful.”
She smiled lightly. “That’s all?”
The vehicle twisted to the right. Jolting, it rolled onto a driveway. I turned to the front. A bulletproof partition separated us from Wendell. The front window, also bulletproof, rested just beyond it. The two thick panes obscured my vision as did a tall wire fence.
But I could still see the long driveway before us. Past the exterior fence, I saw about twenty cars parked in a small lot. A long nondescript building sat just beyond the parking lot. A thinner one, connected to the lot by a walkway, stood in front of it.
Three more fences, all unmanned, rested beyond the parking lot. Looking through the maze of metal bars, I saw it.
Fort Knox.
The two-story depository looked like every other government building I’d ever seen. Besides the security, only three things caught my attention. The American flag hanging limply from a pole at the front of the building. A marble-lined entrance, standing in the exact center of the structure. And a gold seal, representing the Department of the Treasury, positioned just above the door.
It was an underwhelming sight, but it still sent jolts of electricity shooting through my veins. It didn’t contain the largest cache of gold in the world. That honor belonged to the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, which held roughly 7,000 metric tons of gold.
However, that gold was owned by many parties. On top of that, the New York Federal Reserve Bank offered free tours of its vault. Fort Knox, on the other hand, was completely off-limits. Unauthorized visits were strictly forbidden and a variety of deadly obstacles and traps were rumored to exist on the grounds. Such things included minefields, electric barbed wire fences, automated weapons systems, and armed guards affiliated with the United States Mint Police. All of this was watched over by U.S. Army units stationed at Fort Knox, which included thousands of soldiers, tanks, helicopters, and other vehicles.
Even if would-be thieves managed to penetrate the outer layers of security, they’d face more guards, multi-ton blast doors, and other traps.
In short, Fort Knox was impenetrable.
Only a single outside group, consisting of media personnel and members of the U.S. Congress, had been allowed into the depository in all its years of operation. Besides that 1974 visit, no outsider had seen the vault since it received its first gold shipments way back in 1937.
I searched the grounds, but didn’t see a soul or a single trap. The grass was cut short and glistened with dew. Other than four or five scattered trees, the lawn was free of vegetation. All in all, the area looked deserted, but well-kept. Almost peaceful, in a way.
Corporal Wendell brought our vehicle to a halt. Two other vehicles rolled onto the driveway, flanking us on both sides. Other vehicles pulled up behind us and stopped a few inches short of our position.
I trained my eye on the outer gate.
But nothing happened.
Graham pressed the intercom button. “What’s the hold-up?”
“I’m not sure,” the corporal replied. “But I imagine a team is prepping to meet us.”
“Maybe they don’t know we’re here.”
“Oh, they know. We set off motion sensors when we pulled off the main road. Plus, those video cameras on the fence are keeping a close eye on us.”
I craned my neck to the side. Indeed, numerous high-tech video cameras were mounted on the exterior fence.
Growling, Graham sat back. A few more minutes passed before he growled again. “What’s taking them so long?”
Reaching out, Beverly pressed the intercom button. “Maybe they’re staying back because they can’t identify us through the tinted windows. Someone should get out, approach the fence.”