Alex dialed the number and spoke with the gentleman at the US Mint. What he found out left him gasping for air. It seems that just yesterday the man had received notification from the Justice Department that Alex was a Level One designee. Which apparently meant that the US Mint would be shipping gold and silver coins, along with platinum ingots to him as soon as he had secured suitable storage space.
“Um…how much are we talking about?” he asked.
“Somewhere in the range of six and ten billion in precious metals, and fifty billion in cash of various denominations.”
Okay. Howard had said that price was no object. Alex was beginning to see what that meant.
The man gave him instructions on what type of secured storage he’d need, which the US Treasury would pay for. The man went on to say that their expectation was that all of the Level One designees would have their facilities in place within nine months. Alex thanked him for his time and clicked off the phone.
My God. Things were moving far too fast. He needed to get up to speed, and stop being so damned overwhelmed.
Then he began to think about what this new information actually meant. He was one of a number of Level One designees, all of whom were being given a chunk of the national mint. The United States was literally being broken up into pieces and spread all over the country. It was like an insurance company not concentrating its business in one area; the US government was spreading the risk. Alex got up out of his chair just about the time his residence phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Is this General Alex Hanken?”
“Yes.”
“General, this is Jeffrey Macklin from Cal Tech, I need to talk to you privately as soon as possible,”——Macklin gasped for air——“Both of our lives may be in danger.”
“Professor Macklin calm yourself. Can I call you right back on a secure line?”
“No, it’s got to be in person. I’m on my way there now.”
“Hang on. I have appointments all day long and I fly out of town tomorrow for three days. I’ll be back Monday and can see you then.”
“Very well, I’ll see you then.” The line went dead.
Well, that was unexpected.
Alex immediately called Howard back.
“Howard I’ve got a small problem here, one of those professors, a Jeffrey Macklin, just called me saying that both our lives were in danger. He wanted to see me right away and I put him off until next Monday.”
“Here’s what you do. Call Ted Jeffers at this secure number. He’ll handle this for you.”
“Thanks Howard.” The name Ted Jeffers rang a bell but he couldn’t remember exactly from where. He’d been through so much in the last few days. He dialed the number and the familiar screeching noise of a scrambled call could be heard.
“Jeffers.”
“Mr. Jeffers, this is General Alex Hanken, Howard Carney said you would handle something that just popped up.”
“General, what can I do for you?”
“About twenty minutes ago a Professor Jeffrey Macklin of Cal Tech called me to say our lives were in danger and he needed to see me right away.”
“Oh Christ, Macklin’s finally flipped, his boss Eldon Huart died of a heart attack and he’s conspiracy happy. General forget about it. I will take care of this, and you do your job. And if anything like this happens again—call me immediately.”
“Thanks. And forgive me but I know your name, I just can’t place you?”
“I’m the Director of the FBI and from now on it’s Ted.”
“Okay Ted, good to talk to you.”
Alex hung up, feeling even more disoriented. He was on a first name basis with the director of the FBI? This was just…the further into it he went, the more bizarre it got. And just where was he in the chain of command?
No that was ridiculous. He was a retired serviceman with a gift for logistics, that’s all. He was being treated with deference because he was doing an important job. That didn’t make him an important person. He shook his head. Having the US Mint hand you several billion dollars can go right to your head.
Alex got a call from Curt asking if he and Cynthia could come over that evening so he could explain to her what was going on. Cynthia didn’t know anything beyond the redeployment plan story. It was up to Alex to break the more ominous news to her. Alex went to the grocery store and dropped some cleaning off and waited for Curt and Cynthia to arrive for the evening.
Alex went outside on the patio and looked up at the stars. Where were they? Where would they be coming from? And when they were gone, what would be left?
Curt found his father out on the patio, staring at the stars. “Dad Cynthia’s in the kitchen waiting.”
“What? Oh, sure.”
His dad seemed perfectly calm, but Curt knew better. His dad had never been one to just stare at the night sky. The fear was there, underneath the surface calm, held in check by millions of details that needed to be taken care of.
Curt knew this because he felt the same way. Whenever he stopped planning and really thought about what was coming, he started to tremble. He was doing it now. He held his hand to his chin to quell the nervousness swelling up in his stomach.
Then his father put a hand on his shoulder. How’s Cynthia sound?”
Curt was grateful for the change in focus. “She kind of balked because she said she had to work tomorrow, so she couldn’t stay late. I told her she may never be late again in her life, after tonight.” They both managed a forced grin.
Cynthia greeted his father with a big hug and the three of them got comfortable in the den. His father then told her the whole story once again, with Curt sitting next to her, holding her close. Cynthia began to tear up. She tried to wipe them away during Alex’s explanation, but they kept coming. Finally she just leaned on Curt and would occasionally squeeze him for reassurance.
His father then surprised him, telling Cynthia that her background included her parents, and that the powers to be were a little nervous about that.
“I know, Dad,” she said. “I’m not going to let them get in the way of whatever it is they want me to do.”
Alex nodded. “Good girl. I’ll let them know.”
“If this world was coming to an end. I want to spend the rest of my days with Curt. Can we afford for me to quit my job?”
His father looked a bit odd at this. “Ah, yes.”
“So now we can plan our wedding Curt.”
“The sooner the better,” His father walked over to Cynthia and gave her a big hug. “And it will be a big, fancy, outrageously, expensive wedding.”
She giggled and put her arms around Alex’s neck and told him.
“Oh Dad, I love you.”
Cynthia wept the entire trip to their condo. Curt tried to console her but she couldn’t stop. How could she stop? She was way too young to be facing her mortality?
“Cynthia, baby doll,” Curt said softly, “it’ll be okay, we’ll get through this.”
“Oh Curt, everything we’ve done, all that we were planning…it’s for nothing. I’ve tried to be a good person, better than my parents. We’ll be no better off than they are. It’s just…so unfair.” Her sobbing turned to small whimpers as Curt held her in his arms.
The next morning, Curt and Cynthia showed up at Alex’s back door fifteen minutes early, looking