Temple of the Gods - Andy McDermott [108]
Under the angry eyes of the troops from Silent Peak, Nina and Eddie were led to the helicopter, which flew them to Nellis Air Force Base northeast of Las Vegas. A jet waited for them, larger than the Lear; a C-37A, the US military’s version of the Gulfstream V business aircraft, luxuriously appointed as a VIP transport. They were accompanied by two air force officers, who like the colonel appeared displeased to have been assigned this particular escort duty. Once in flight, they sat at the cabin’s far end, occasionally shooting dirty glances towards the couple.
Since there was nothing else that could be done, Eddie chose to stretch out in a reclining seat and doze through the eastward flight. Nina regarded him jealously. She was too concerned for her racing mind to allow her to rest. What she had heard about the Group was apparently true; if they had enough influence to intervene in the internal security of the US military – quickly enough to halt an ongoing search-and-destroy operation – then they must have direct access to the very highest levels of the American government.
And they had used that power to save her and Eddie’s lives. She was grateful for that . . . but what price would be asked in return?
By the time the plane landed, night had fallen over the eastern seaboard. The two officers took them down the steps to the runway, where a limousine waited. Eddie peered inside. A man in a dark suit gestured for him to enter. ‘Come on in, Mr Chase,’ said the stranger. ‘Sit down. You too, Dr Wilde. I won’t bite.’
‘I might,’ Eddie muttered, climbing in to sit facing him. Nina hesitantly took a place beside her husband.
The man in the back seat was in his sixties, tall and broad-shouldered in a way that suggested he had been an athlete in his youth. Despite his age, he was obviously still strong and in excellent health. His grey hair was slicked back from his prominent forehead, a pair of rectangular spectacles giving him a stern, patrician air. He had a downturned mouth that didn’t seem accustomed to smiling. ‘Welcome to Washington,’ he said. ‘I’m glad to see you both alive and well.’
‘I’d be gladder if I knew what the hell was going on,’ said Eddie.
‘Well, that’s what I’m going to tell you.’ He pushed a button to speak to the driver. ‘Let’s go.’ The limo set off, the Gulfstream retreating beyond the darkened rear window.
‘Okay,’ said Nina, ‘my first question is: who are you?’
‘My name is Travis Warden. You may have heard of me, or you may not. It depends how closely you read the financial pages.’
‘They’re not really my thing,’ she admitted.
‘That’s true for most people. Which is why the histrionics aimed at the financial world over the past few years are ironic at best, and hypocritical at worst. Anyone taking the time and effort to analyse the data that was freely available would have seen that the boom before the economic crash was unsustainable. But –’ he shrugged – ‘nobody wants to believe that the good times will ever stop rolling, so they fail to plan for the inevitable.’ He gave his passengers a meaningful look. ‘Well, almost nobody.’
‘You did make plans,’ said Eddie.
‘We did. By “we”, I mean the Group. It’s our business to plan for the future. Not just for the next year, or the next electoral cycle. We plan for decades ahead, generations.’
‘That seems a bit presumptuous,’ Nina said.
‘Only those who prepare for the future deserve a hand in shaping it.’
‘So the Group is a collection of merchant bankers?’ she asked. Eddie couldn’t suppress a smirk. ‘What?’
‘That’s Cockney rhyming slang,’ he told her. ‘For wan—’
‘Yes, thank you for that, honey.’
A small tic under Warden’s right eye betrayed his impatience. ‘Some of the Group’s members are bankers, yes. But I’m more of . . . an investor, you could say. An investor in the future. I put capital where it’s needed to ensure that the Group’s long-term goals happen. Not just here in the United States, but all over the world. The Group is an international organisation with one ultimate goal: global order.’
‘So you’re like the Bilderberg group?’
A