The Doomsday Conspiracy

Gromkov slapped her hard across the face. “Do as you’re told before I change my mind.”

Olga hesitated an instant, and as his arm drew back to hit her again, she started unbuttoning her coat.

“Take it off.”

She let it drop to the ground.

“Now the nightgown.”

Slowly, Olga lifted the nightgown over her head and pulled it off, shivering in the cold night air, standing naked in the moonlight.

“Nice body,” Gromkov said. He squeezed her nipples.

“Please …”

“You make one sound, and we take you to headquarters.” He pushed her to the ground.

I won’t think about this. I’ll pretend I’m in Switzerland on the bus tour, looking at all the beautiful scenery.

Gromkov had dropped his pants and was spreading Olga’s legs apart.

I can see the Alps covered with snow. There is a sleigh going by with a young boy and girl in it.

She felt him place his hands under her hips, and he shoved his maleness into her, hurting her.

There are beautiful cars along the highway. More cars than I have ever seen in my life. In Switzerland everybody has a car.

He was plunging into her harder now, pinching her, making wild, animal noises.

I will have a little home in the mountains. What do the Swiss call them? Chalets. And I will have chocolates every day. Boxes of them.

Gromkov was withdrawing now, breathing heavily. He stood up and turned to Zemsky. “Your turn.”

I will get married and have children, and we will all go skiing in the Alps in winter.

Zemsky had zipped open his pants and was climbing on top of her.

It will be such a wonderful life. I will never return to Russia. Never. Never. Never.

He was inside her now, hurting her more than the other man had, squeezing her buttocks, and pushing her body into the cold ground until the pain was almost unbearable.

We will live on a farm, where it’s quiet and peaceful all the time, and we will have a garden with beautiful flowers.

Zemsky finished with her and looked up at his companion. “I bet she enjoyed it,” he grinned.

He reached down for Olga’s neck and broke it.

The following day there was an item in the local paper about a librarian who had been raped and strangled in the park. There was a stern warning from the authorities that it was dangerous for young women to go to the park alone at night.

FLASH MESSAGE

TOP SECRET ULTRA

DEPUTY DIRECTOR GRU TO DEPUTY DIRECTOR NSA

EYES ONLY

COPY ONE OF (ONE) COPIES

SUBJECT: OPERATION DOOMSDAY

8. OLGA ROMANCHANKO – KIEV –

TERMINATED

END OF MESSAGE

Chapter Thirty-Two

Willard Stone and Monte Banks were natural enemies. They were both ruthless predators, and the jungle they prowled was the stone canyons of Wall Street, with its high-powered takeovers, leveraged buy-outs and stock deals.

The first time the two men clashed was during the attempted takeover of a huge utility company. Willard Stone made the first bid, and anticipated no problem. He was so powerful, and his reputation so fearsome, that very few people dared challenge him. It was a great surprise then when he learned that a young upstart named Monte Banks was contesting his bid. Stone was forced to raise his own bid, and the ante kept going up. Willard Stone finally acquired control of the company, but at a much higher price than he had anticipated paying.

Six months later, in a takeover bid for a large electronics firm, Stone was confronted again by Monte Banks. The bidding kept escalating, and this time, Banks won.

When Willard Stone learned that Monte Banks intended to compete with him for control of a computer company, he decided it was time to meet with his competitor. The two men met on neutral ground in Paradise Island, in the Bahamas. Willard Stone had had a thorough investigation made of his competitor and had learned that Monte Banks came from a wealthy oil family, and had brilliantly managed to parlay his inheritance into an international conglomerate.

The two men sat down to lunch. Willard Stone, old and wise, Monte Banks, young and eager.

Willard Stone opened the conversation. “You’re becoming a pain in the ass.”

Monte Banks grinned. “Coming from you, that’s a big compliment.”

“What is it you want?” Stone asked.

“The same as you. I want to own the world.”

Willard Stone said thoughtfully, “Well, it’s a big enough world.”

“Meaning?”

“There’s room enough for both of us.”

That was the day they became partners. Each ran his own business separately but when it came to new projects – timber and oil and real estate – they went into deals together, instead of competing with each other. Several times the Anti-Trust Division of the Justice Department tried to stop their deals, but Willard Stone’s connections always prevailed. Monte Banks owned chemical companies responsible for massive pollution of lakes and rivers, but when he was indicted, the indictment was mysteriously dropped.

The two men had a perfect symbiotic relationship.

Operation Doomsday was a natural for them, and they were heavily involved in it. They were on the verge of closing a deal to purchase ten million acres of lush, tree-rich land in the Amazon. It was going to be one of the most profitable deals they had ever gone into.

They could not afford to let anything stand in their way.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Day Thirteen

Washington, DC

The Senate of the United States was in plenary session. The junior senator from Utah had the floor.

“… and what is happening to our ecology is a national disgrace. It is time that this great body realized that it is its sworn duty to preserve the precious heritage that our forefathers entrusted to us. It is not only our sworn duty but our privilege to protect the land, the air and the seas against those vested interests that are selfishly destroying it. And are we doing this? Are we in all conscience doing our best? Or are we allowing the voice of Mammon to influence us …?”