Terminal Compromise - Winn Schwartau (fiction book recommendations TXT) 📗

around the room drink in hand, gesturing

with his hands and arms.

“The hundreds of thousands of Government employees, the ones that

are here year after year after year, we are the ones who make

policy. It’s the mid-grade manager, the staff writer, the polit-

ical analysts who create the images, the pictures that the White

House and Capital Hill see.

“This town, the United States is run by lifers; people who have

dedicated their lives to the American way of life. The military

controls more than any American wants to know. State Department,

Justice, HUD; each is its own monolithic bureaucracy that does

not change direction overnight because of some election in Bum-

fuck, Iowa. It takes four years to find your way through the

corridors, and by then, odds are you’ll be packing back to Maine,

or Georgia or California or wherever you came from.” Marvin

Jacob’s vitriolic oration was grinding on Miles, but he had to

listen to his boss.

“So when this country gets into trouble, someone has to do some-

thing about it. God knows the politicians won’t. This country

was in real trouble and someone had to fix it. In this case it

was me. It’s been a decade since the first warnings about how

vulnerable our computers, our economy, shit, our National Securi-

ty were. The reports came out, and Congress decided to ignore

them. Sure, they built up the greatest armaments in the history

of civilization, sold the future for a few trillion, but they ne-

glected to protect their investment.” Jacobs angrily poured

himself another drink.

“I couldn’t let that happen, so I decided that I needed to expose

the weaknesses in our systems before somebody else did.” Marvin

spoke proudly. “And what better way than to fuck it up beyond

all recognition. FUBAR. At least this way we were in charge,

and we were able to pick the damage. Thanks to you. Lessons

tend to be painful, and I guess we’re paying for some of our past

sins.” He drank thirstily.

“Did those sins mean that I would have to be arrested by the FBI?

I couldn’t say a thing; not the truth. They’d never have be-

lieved me.” Miles shuddered at the thought. “For a moment, I

thought you might leave me to rot in jail.”

“Hey,” Marvin said happily. “Didn’t our people get you out, just

like I promised? Less than an hour.” He sounded proud of his

efforts. “Besides, most of them were bullshit charges. Not

worth the effort to prosecute.”

“I never underestimate the power of the acronym,” Miles said

about the NSA, CIA and assorted lettered agencies. “There was a

lot of not so quiet whispering when it was released that the

charges were dropped by the Federal Prosecutor. Think that was

smart, so soon? Maybe we should have waited a couple of months.”

Jacobs looked up sharply at Miles’ criticism of his actions but

spoke with understanding. “We needed to get the cameras off of

you and onto the real problem; it was the right thing to do.

Your part is over. You started the war. Now it’s up to me to

stop it. It could not have gone any smoother. Yes,” he re-

flected. “It’s time for us to take over. You have performed

magnificently. We couldn’t ask for any more.”

Miles sipped at his drink accepting the reasoning and asked,

“I’ve wondered about a few things, since the beginning.”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Marv said edging himself behind

his desk. “I’d imagine you have a lot of holes to fill in.”

“How did you get Homosoto to cooperate? He seemed to fall right

into place.”

“It was almost too easy,” Jacobs commented casually. “We had a

number of candidates. You’d be surprised how many people with

money and power hold grudges against Uncle Sam,” he snickered.

“It’s hard to believe, but true.”

“Meaning, if it wasn’t him, it would have been someone else?”

“Exactly. There’s no shortage of help in the revenge business.

There are still many hibakusha, survivors of Hiroshima and Naga-

saki, who still want revenge on us for ending the war and saving

so may lives. Ironic, isn’t it? That someone like Homosoto is

twisted enough to help us, just to fuel his own hatred,” Marvin

Jacobs asked rhetorically.

“But he didn’t know he was helping, did he?” Miles asked.

“Of course not. Then he would have been running the show, and

this was my production. No, it worked out just fine.”

Jacobs paused for more liquor and continued. “Then we have a few

European industrialists, ex-Nazis who are available . . .the KGB,

GRU, Colombian cartel members. The list of assets is long.

Where’s there’s money, there’s help, and most of them prefer the

Yankee dollar to any other form of payment. They forget that by

hurting us they also hurt the world’s largest economy, as well as

everybody else’s and then the fiscal dominoes start falling

uncontrollably.”

“You mean you bought him?” Miles asked.

“Oh, no! You can’t buy a billionaire, but you can influence his

actions, if he thinks that it’s his idea. It just so happens

that he was the first one to bite. Health problems and all.”

“What problems?”

“In all likelihood it’s from the radiation, the Bomb; his doctors

gave him a couple of years to live. Inoperable form of

leukemia.”

“I didn’t know . . .”

“No one did. He insisted on complete secrecy. He had not picked

a successor to run OSO, and in some ways he denied the reality.”

“Excuse my tired old brain, but you’re talking Spook-Speak. How

did you know . . .?”

“Old habits . . .” Marvin agreed. “As you well know, from your

employ here, we have assets in every major company in the world.

Especially those companies that buy and sell elected officials in

Washington. OSO and Homosoto are quite guilty of bribing their

way into billions of dollars of contracts. Our assets, you see,

can work in two directions. They let us know what’s going on

from the inside and give us a leg up on the G2. Then, we can

plant real or false information when needed. The Cold Economic

War.”

“So you told Homosoto what to do?” Miles followed closely.

“Not in so many words.” Marvin wasn’t telling all, and Miles

knew it. “We knew that through our assets we gave Homosoto and

several others the idea that U.S. computers were extremely frag-

ile. Back in 1983 the DoD and CIA prepared classified reports

saying that computer terrorism was going to be the international

crime of choice in the last decade of the century. Then the NRC,

NSC and DIA issued follow-up reports that agreed with the origi-

nal findings. We saw to it that enough detail reached Tokyo to

show just how weak we were.”

Jacobs continued to tell Miles how the NSA effected the unwitting

recruitment of Homosoto. “That, a well timed resignation on your

part, and advertising your dissatisfaction with the government

made you the ideal person to launch the attack.” Marvin smiled

widely holding his drink in the air, toasting Miles.

Miles responded by raising his glass. “And then a suicide, how

perfect.” Jacobs did not return the salute, and Miles felt

sudden iciness. “Right? Homosoto’s suicide.” Jacobs still said

nothing. “Marv? It was a suicide, wasn’t it?”

“Miss Perkins was of great help, too,” Marvin said ignoring Miles

questions.

“Perky? What’s she got to do with this?” Miles demanded.

“Oh? You really don’t know?” Marvin was genuinely shocked. “I

guess she was better than we thought. I thought you knew.” He

looked down to avoid Miles’s eyes. “Didn’t you think it

odd . . .?”

“That she introduced me to Homosoto?” Miles asked acrimoniously.

“She didn’t.”

“Of course she did,” Miles contradicted.

“We have a tape of the conversation,” Marv disagreed. “All she

did was ask you if you would work for a foreigner and under what

circumstances. Perkins’ job was to prep you for Homosoto or

whoever else we expected to contact you. An admirable job, huh

Miles?” Marvin Jacobs seemed proud of her accomplishments, and

given the stunned gaping expression on Miles’ face, he beamed

even more. Miles didn’t say a word, but his glazed eyes said

loud and clear that he felt defiled.

“I’m sorry Miles,” Marvin said compassionately. “I really as-

sumed you knew that she was a toy. You certainly treated her

that way.” No reaction. “If it helps any, she was on Homosoto’s

payroll. She was a double.”

Miles jerked his head back and then let out a long laugh. “Well,

fuck me dead. Goddamn, she was good! Had me going. Not a fuck-

ing clue.” Miles stood from his chair and laughed and smiled at

Marvin. “What a deal. I get blow jobs courtesy of the American

taxpayer and you get paid to watch.”

“Miles, we know how you felt for her . . .”

“Bullshit,” Miles said quickly. “That’s fucking