Lopez shook her head.
‘So it didn’t ever cross your mind as odd that you never set foot in the CIA or FBI buildings?’
‘Deniable assets,’ Mitchell replied, ‘paramilitary units attached to clandestine services. After Vietnam, they claimed that the government needed an arm of the military and intelligence community that could be used in complete secrecy without upsetting Congress, which was as keen as anybody to discredit both further overseas military action and appease the public mood. Majestic Twelve capitalized on that.’
Lopez watched the traffic passing them by as Mitchell drove, and realized that she needed to capitalize on this moment while she could.
‘Tell me everything,’ she said. ‘Tell me what their end-game is, what they actually want.’
‘Uncertain,’ Mitchell said. ‘Majestic Twelve was formed in 1947 as a result of the supposed crashed flying saucer incident in Roswell, New Mexico, but also in response to a series of events in the aftermath of the Second World War that occurred in Antarctica.’
‘Antarctica?’ Lopez echoed. ‘What the hell happened up there?’
‘It’s a long story, which you’ll hear about soon enough,’ Mitchell promised. ‘Point is, MJ-12 was an official and militarily supported group until somewhere in the 1970’s, when it was shut down by the government of the time. That’s why the trail of data that investigators follow always dries up and why MJ-12 is generally considered a myth — they officially were removed from all government documentation and all assets and references destroyed. The reason for the excise was that MJ-12 was considered surplus to requirements with the rise of the Black Budget and the expansion of highly secretive military facilities like Area 51 at Groom Lake in Nevada, Edwards Air Force Base, Cheyenne Mountain and others. In essence, military contractors like Lockheed Martin and Boeing took over the development of highly classified projects and rendered MJ-12 obsolete.’
‘So they re-formed outside of the government,’ Lopez figured.
‘Exactly,’ Mitchell confirmed. ‘The most powerful men among those ejected from the government’s circle of trust continued the Majestic Twelve mandate but this time remained highly secretive in their own right. The idea was that employees of the group would serve, not actually knowing that they were serving Majestic Twelve. They recruited operatives, training staff and military hardware using contacts within the military-industrial complex, and needed their own paramilitary force to perform military actions when the United States government were unwilling to put troops on the ground in foreign countries, should the need be required to sustain profits in their business ventures outside of the US.’
Lopez leaned back in her seat as she digested what Mitchell had told her.
‘They become ever more powerful, growing in influence and stature as they commit to profitable ventures around the globe, unhindered by the law, and eventually begin to rival the US government in power.’
Mitchell nodded as he eased off the freeway.
‘Majestic Twelve now has the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation in their pocket, the Speaker of the House, numerous other officials both here and overseas as well as at least four Presidents and Prime Ministers from around the world. They cannot directly influence the president as, remarkably, he managed to win the presidency without their financial backing. But they can and do guide US policy by pressuring Congress with political lobbying, financing the campaigns of politicians in return for policies favorable to their business ventures. When overseas they deploy their paramilitary forces to achieve by force what money cannot, which is why you’re here.’
‘Me?’
Mitchell nodded.
‘I have been outcast by the group for failing to assassinate the President of the United States, or at least ensuring that he died at the hands of Abrahem Nassir.’
Lopez gasped and smiled again.
‘I almost forgot — Ethan must have come through!’
‘He did,’ Mitchell acknowledged, ‘as he annoyingly often does. But his success, and in part my failure, have forced MJ-12’s hand and now they’re on the warpath. The Defense Intelligence Agency’s efforts to root them out have grown from a mild annoyance to a serious threat and they’re acting upon that. I was incarcerated in Florence ADX without trial, and was forced to enact an emergency escape plan I’ve had in place for two decades. It was a one time thing, so I can’t run it again. I’ve played my hand and by now MJ-12 will know it.’
Lopez blinked.
‘You escaped from a security max prison?’
‘Preparation is everything, Miss Lopez,’ Mitchell replied. ‘Now, Majestic Twelve has deployed a paramilitary force to Antarctica, hot on the heels of Ethan Warner and a smaller team sent by the Defense Intelligence Agency to the same location. We need to support them as soon as possible.’
‘Ethan’s in Antarctica?’
‘Yes,’ Mitchell confirmed, ‘because whatever it is that MJ-12 wants is up there. I intend that they will not get hold of it.’
Lopez stared at him for a moment. ‘What’s my part in all of this?’
For the first time, Mitchell smiled.
‘I’ll need you with me to help prevent me from getting shot when I walk into the Defense Intelligence Agency.’
Lopez shook her head.
‘I’ll be damned,’ she whispered, ‘you’re really switching sides?’
Mitchell looked at her, his dark eyes smoldering with restrained anger.
‘Majestic Twelve lied to me when they recruited me and have betrayed me for a single decision of which they didn’t approve,’ he growled. ‘That makes me very angry.’
Lopez’s guts contracted slightly as she reflected on what a man like Aaron Mitchell might consider as being very angry. She said nothing more as Mitchell drove slowly toward the DIA Headquarters at Anacostia-Bolling.
XIV
General Andrei Veer stood in the cavernous rear of a C-130 Hercules transport aircraft and surveyed the men seated before him. There were one hundred of them in total, each crammed onto the narrow seats lining the fuselage of the gigantic aircraft, and between them were rows of tightly packed ATVs — All Terrain Vehicles, each with four am-tracks and rear-mounted machine guns, and each capable of transporting two armed men across the ice at high speed.
Veer was a giant of a man and stood with his arms folded across a barrel chest, his face half concealed by a thick, dark beard. Cold gray eyes that seemed a reflection of the bitter Antarctic continent far below them scanned the faces of his men and saw neither hubris nor doubt in their gazes.
‘We deploy in ten minutes!’ he boomed, his thick Slavic accent loud enough to be heard above the roar of the Hercules’ four massive turboprop engines. ‘Our target is in the north of Queen Maud’s Land and the Totten Glacier, and we know that an armed force of unknown origin has been deployed to prevent the United States of America from achieving its objectives. It’s our job to ensure that they do not succeed!’
A roar of Hoo-Rar filled the interior of the aircraft as the soldiers, a mixture of former Marines, Army Rangers and other highly skilled units clenched their fists as one and punched the air. Dressed in white Arctic camouflage and with M-16 rifles clutched to their chests, they were heavily armed and well suited to the task at hand.