Alyson could not believe the proverbial stroke of journalistic luck she was having right at that moment. Chuck McLaughlin was about to disclose the identity of the person responsible for President Ballou’s demise. As to whether the man had the facts right or not didn’t matter. He was going to tell the world first hand right on the DEN and live. Meers kept his hands steady as he filmed everything. He couldn’t help but wonder if people were sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting for McLaughlin to speak.
The Secret Service agent was about to tell everyone who he believed was responsible.
McLaughlin opened his mouth to speak, but Barrington’s cell phone began to ring.
Barrington held up a hand. “Wait a second, Chuck. Let me get this.” He reached into his pocket for his cellular phone.
“Just let it ring,” McLaughlin said. “Call whoever it is back. This is important.”
“Yeah, Al,” Lenox said as he folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s hear this. I’d love to hear who’s responsible. Wouldn’t you?”
Lambert shot him a look.
Barrington hesitated. “Sure. I’ll deal with the phone call later.” He glanced at McLaughlin. “What have you got?”
“It’s the Antichrist,” the Secret Service agent said.
Everyone looked at him as if he had two heads.
“What?” Lambert demanded. “Are you out of your mind? There is no Antichrist, McLaughlin. You mean to tell me that you came back to tell us the Antichrist had the President of the United States assassinated? This isn’t Science Fiction!”
“No, it’s not Science Fiction.” McLaughlin stood his ground. “It just happens to be prophecy coming to life. The Antichrist is the one responsible for this attack. He personally orchestrated the whole thing with an agency the world has yet to learn about. That agency is called AIM. Agency Intelligence Merge. AIM’s sole purpose is to carry out the directives set up by Tristian Salvadori, and Tristian Salvadori is the Antichrist.”
For a moment, no one said a word.
Then, Erin said, “Chuck…are you a Christian?”
McLaughlin nodded once. “Yes. When I left you guys, I had a lot to think about. I suddenly found myself seeking out some answers of my own, and what I discovered led me to the truth of what you were telling me. It also brought a lot of other issues to light for me, including what I found out about Tristian Salvadori.”
Shiva grinned and clapped McLaughlin on the back. “Well, I for one am glad you saw the light, brother.”
“So am I,” Barrington agreed.
Dunham remained silent as he stood by and witnessed what was happening. He found it easy to believe the Antichrist was behind the assassination of the President, but was stunned that McLaughlin thought Tristian Salvadori was the one who would deceive the world during the Tribulation. He had seen the good that Salvadori was doing from the news programs. Then, he suddenly wondered if the news was out to make Salvadori look good as part of that deception. His thoughts were interrupted by Lenox.
“I don’t believe this!” Lenox snapped harshly. He pulled out his gun and leveled it in the direction behind Barrington. Before anyone could stop him, he shouted, “Turn it off!”
Barrington turned around and saw the reason for Lenox’ outburst. Alyson and Meers were filming them. He groaned inwardly, feeling completely stupid that he had allowed this to happen.
“You can’t stop the news, Michael Lenox,” Alyson replied as she stood out from the cover of the SUV, her microphone held out in front of her. She had a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “The entire world has heard Charles McLaughlin proclaim Tristian Salvadori as the Antichrist, and he has also claimed that the Antichrist is responsible for carrying out the execution of the President of the United States. And now in front of the entire world, you are drawing your weapon on members of the press.”
Lenox lowered his weapon. “Turn it off.”
Alyson looked into his eyes. “I want an interview.”
“Fine.”
She turned to face Meers and her camera. “This is Alyson Moore, reporting live from the White House on The DEN.”
Meers turned off the camera and lowered it. “Ratings will probably hit the roof with that one.”
Alyson couldn’t help but smile as she turned to face Lenox. “You do realize that was live, don’t you?”
“I kind of got that impression,” he told her.
“You people have a lot of nerve!” Barrington declared angrily as he approached. “You broadcast a private discussion. You’re putting lives at stake when you do this!”
Alyson let out a laugh. “Oh, please. If anything, I only enraged your superiors, and Tristian Salvadori will just get more publicity.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe anyone would have the audacity to call such a man as Salvadori the Antichrist. You need to have your head examined, Chuck.”
McLaughlin shrugged. “Believe what you will. I’m not afraid to tell the world who that man is.”
She turned to regard him. “Really. Well, then…maybe I’ll set you up with an interview. But first…” She smiled at Lenox. “When and where?”
Lenox suddenly laughed and shook his head. “Are you kidding me? You’ve already got what you wanted. You had us all live on your program. I’m not going to give you more.”
“What about you, fireman?” Alyson called out to Dunham. “Are you with these religious nuts who claim that we’re living in the End Times? Do you believe that Tristian Salvadori is the Antichrist?”
Dunham hesitated. “Me?”
“Yeah. You’re the only one standing here with fireman gear on and with your helmet. In your opinion, is Tristian Salvadori the Antichrist? Is he responsible for what happened here today? Does he run AIM?”
“I’m not qualified to answer those questions.”
“Leave him alone,” Erin demanded. “He’s doing his job.”
Alyson sneered at Erin. “Oh, really. Seems to me he’s just standing around with a couple of Jesus Freaks and two agents who might be the only two in the group actually concerned with what happened here.”
Shiva stared at her. “What?”
“I see Matthew Lambert and Michael Lenox as men with jobs to do. Men who don’t appear to be hung up on your so-called Christianity. What are you other people doing here? Hugging each other and patting each other on the back because Chuck has declared himself as a Christian. Are you even thinking about how to catch the real terrorist responsible for what happened here? I think you’ve got your priorities out of sync.” She turned once more to Lenox. “And if I don’t get that interview, you should at least take me to dinner.”
Lenox let out a sigh as if it were a battle he didn’t want to fight. “Okay. Sure.”
She grinned. “Good. I’ll see you later.” She spun on her heels and began walking away with Meers following behind.
“Are you out of your mind?” Barrington demanded of Lenox. “You’re going to have dinner with her?”
Lenox regarded him. “That’s not your business. It’s mine.”
“She just got us on the news,” Erin said, “and made us all look like fools.”
He shook his head. “Nah. Actually, you looked like fools. I think Lambert and I were the only ones who looked like, oh, I don’t know…regular people, I guess. Not like fruit of the looms like you guys.” He grinned.
Barrington sighed. “Michael, this isn’t funny.”
“Sure, it is. Your pride got stepped on. Face it. Besides, you should have expected that kind of reaction and you really should be prepared for a lot more of the same.” He paused. “Now, Chuck…whether this is all true or not, can you prove it? About the Antichrist being responsible and all that?”
McLaughlin shook his head. “No, but I stand by it.”
“Well, that’s nice that you do, but it doesn’t do us any good, does it?”
Lambert let out a sigh. “And even if what you said is true, it still doesn’t tell us who physically did this. I’ve seen the news, too. Salvadori is reported as being in New York City. He’s nowhere near the White House. You’ve got nothing.”
McLaughlin paused. “That’s true. Salvadori isn’t anywhere near the scene here.” He paused. “But I’m sure there are plenty of AIM agents on the scene, and they work for him.”
Director Fuller stared at the television screen as he put his cell phone to his ear. He could hear Barrington’s phone ringing, by his ear and also on the television set. As the ringing continued, he was mortified when McLaughlin said, “Just let it ring. Call whoever it is back. This is important.”
Fuller glared at the screen. “No! Al, don’t listen to him. Pick up!”
At that point, Fronk strode into the room. “What’s up, Skipper? You sounded like the Professor stole your pineapple for a science experiment.” Then, he saw what was happening on television. “Ooh! A new reality series. Hey! Is that Knox?”
Fuller waved his hand at him and shushed him. When he saw that McLaughlin and Lenox had talked Barrington into ignoring the ringing phone, he turned his off. He and Fronk watched the whole thing until Alyson ended the live segment.
“This isn’t good, William.”
Fronk nodded his head. “Yeah…I think they’re right.”
Fuller turned to regard him. “Who’s right?”
“Well, it’s true when they say you gain about ten pounds on tv. Bear, Knox, and Erin looked kinda fat. And Fury?” He let out a whistle and shook his head. “He's huge! Like a barn.”
“You know I’m not amused.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be either if I looked fat on television.”
Fuller just looked at him.
“Did you record that for them so they could watch it later?”
“William!”
Fronk held up his hands defensively. “Okay. Okay, Skipper. I’ll stop now.” He paused. “But I wouldn’t say this is really a bad thing. Nothing of any relevance was given away. So what if Chuckles proclaimed Tristian Salvadori as the Antichrist? We already knew that. And we also suspected he was plotting the President’s death, which is why we set plans of our own in motion.”
Fuller paused. “So you don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
“Not a thing.”
“But what about Al, Erin, and Marc. For the first time, they’re implicated as being Christians beside a man who just told the world who the Antichrist is.”
He shrugged. “It’s bound to have happened sooner or later, Skipper. Just tell them to keep a low profile. I think the real question is what about Knox? Where has he been and what is he up to now?”
Fuller paused in thought. “Yeah. I’ve got several questions for him when he returns.” He punched in Barrington’s number again into his cell phone. “Thanks, William. That’s all.”
“Coitenly, Skipper. Nyuck, nyuck.”
As Fronk left the office, Barrington answered his cell phone. “Hello.”
“Well, I think that went rather well, don’t you?” Fuller inquired rhetorically.
There was a pause. “Director, I had no idea we --”
“Don’t worry about it. I just want to talk to Michael. Put him on, will you?”
“Yeah, sure. Hold on.”
There was a longer pause as Fuller waited for several minutes. Finally, Lenox came onto the phone and Fuller got right to the heart of the matter. “Is everything going according to the plan?”
“Yeah,” was Lenox’ quick response.
“So you’re in.”
“Yeah.”
Fuller paused. “Be careful.”
For the third time, Lenox said, “Yeah,” and then hung up.
Fuller held his cell phone and prayed.
Staci and Moore had watched the entire news broadcast and were stunned by it. Staci was disturbed by the way Lenox had drawn his gun and also by the familiarity which Alyson directed toward him. She wasn’t sure she liked that. She knew Lenox wasn’t saved, and so she continued to pray for him every day. She was trusting in God to do the rest. If they were meant to be, He would bring them together. If they weren’t, there was nothing she would be able to do to make a lasting relationship flourish without God leading in that relationship.
Her thoughts must have been evident on her face because Moore noticed them. “You really do have feelings for that young man, don’t you?” he asked softly.
“What?” Staci turned her head to look at him. “Feelings? For who?”
“For Michael, who won’t let me call him son, and who won’t call me Pa. Now I’m afraid if there is gonna be some feelings developing between the two of you, I’ll have to insist on him calling me Pa.”
She just looked at him. Then, she laughed. “Oh, Pa. You’re silly.”
“But I’m right, aren’t I? You like him.”
She turned away as she turned off the television set. “What does that have to do with it?”
Moore chuckled. “Well, daughter, I have to tell you. I may be old, but nothing slips by me. You reacted when you saw Michael on TV. You reacted strongly to the woman reporter who addressed him on TV. And now you want me to drive you to Albany, NY, so we can find out when he returned from his vanishing act a while back.” He paused. “Aren’t you supposed to stay away from Albany ‘cause of a certain agency looking for you?”
“I’m sure I’m not that important, Pa. They probably have more serious matters to attend to than to be looking for me.”
“Maybe so, but I recall there having been many such agents looking for you here a short time ago. I believe Son Number One referred to them as AIM agents. I’ve heard of many things when I was myself an agent for the pleasure of the President of the United States, and AIM was one of those things whispered in the dark. It was almost a taboo subject. Back then, we only heard rumors and innuendo’s, but today…Today, I think these AIM fellows are beginning to surface and for some reason, your name is on their list.” He paused. “Your name shouldn’t be on their list, Staci, but since it is…I think there’s only one way to get off of such a list.”
She regarded him for a moment. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that the only way to be off their list is…you just have to die.”
Staci straightened her posture and stared at him. “You’re scaring me.”
Moore bowed his head, avoiding eye contact. “Well, now, I’m truly sorry about that. I really am. I just mean for you to take these people seriously, that’s all. Your friends have gone through some trouble in getting you here to hide who you really are. Don’t you think you owe it to them to stay instead of going after a man who may not feel the same way about you as you feel about him?”
She took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes. She couldn’t deny what Moore was telling her. She even recognized the warning he was trying to give her. But her mind was already made up. “I’m going to Albany, Pa. You can drive me…or I’ll find another way.”
Moore paused. “We have to stop at the shelter first.”
She regarded him with suspicion. “Why?”
“I need my shotgun. If we go, I’m gonna be prepared because no one is going to lay a hand on you if I have anything to say about it.”
Thirty-eight was the amount of people expected to leave Willow Creek by the following morning or face the repercussions of the angry townsfolk. Having discussed it, King and Saint both agreed that the wise course of action would be to leave the town and dust off the dirt from their shoes. They had spread the Gospel message there as much as they were able to. Those who had heard and responded had joined the Gatherers. The rest were not receptive.
Thirty-eight people had to be gathered from their homes and brought to the church in preparation of leaving the town. Chase was one of the thirty-eight now that he had come to the knowledge of the saving grace of Jesus Christ. He was hoping to make the thirty-eight become a thirty-nine by getting his wife to join them. Janice Chase had already been witnessed to and refused the message. It was Chase’s hope that he would be able to witness to her and get her to see the light.
Saint, King, and all those gathered at the church would do their part by praying. The small gathering inside the church was also uplifting thanksgiving to God for His hand on King. There was no other way King could have survived being shot in such close quarters. God was clearly protecting him.
Chase drove his Ranger to his home, hopeful that his wife would be receptive. As he pulled into the driveway, he was surprised to find her standing on the front porch, waiting for him. Her arms were folded across herself and her dark brown eyes watched him as he turned off the Ranger and climbed out. The front yard was in need of a good raking as the fall leaves were cluttered about every where. A dummy he had stuffed earlier that week was seated in a rocking chair. But the pumpkin he had made as its head had been smashed in and lay on the ground at the bottom of the steps to the porch.
Chase walked toward the porch but stopped when he saw two suitcases at his wife’s feet. “Janice…where are you going?”
Janice kept all emotion from her face. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re the one who’s leaving.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Robert called. He told me about what happened at the church.”
“Really? Did he tell you that he pointed his gun at an unarmed preacher and fired a bullet at him?”
This time, emotion did show as she glared at him. “Yes. He also told me that the man he shot and killed was a terrorist. What I can’t understand is what you were doing in his company.”
Chase decided not to mention that David King was not dead. He didn’t think Janice would keep that to herself. “Listen to me. You’re right. I’m leaving…but I want you to come with me.”
Janice scowled. “Are you out of your ever-loving mind? Why on earth would I ever want to leave my house with a bunch of whacko’s? Are you telling me you’ve decided to join their righteous cause?” Her voice was thick with sarcasm.
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Why can’t you see that it makes sense? The children of this town vanished with a handful of adults because they heard the trumpet and were raptured from this earth. I believe that --”
Janice shook her head. “Oh, I can’t believe you! You are so gullible. Really, Peter! A trumpet?”
“I’m not gullible. I just recognized the truth. Janice, please…you don’t have to accept it now if you don’t want to. Just come with us.”
“I’m not going to accept it now…or ever. And I’m certainly not going with you. I told you. I’m not leaving my home.” She paused. “We were supposed to start a family here, but you changed. You’re a real fruitcake now. I don’t want any part of you.”
He stared at her. “You…you can’t mean that.”
“Shut up, take your belongings that I packed for you, and leave with your new family. I don’t ever want to see you again.” She turned abruptly, went into the house and closed the door.
Stunned, Chase just stood there. Slowly, he went up the steps and then he tried the door. It was locked. He fumbled for his keys, but they wouldn’t work. Had Janice changed the locks? He couldn’t understand why she was doing this. What had he done?
He knocked on the door. “Come on, Janice. Open up! We have to talk about this?”
There was no response.
“I can’t believe you’re willing to throw away four years of our marriage away like this. Open the door!”
From inside the house, Janice’s muffled voice called out, “I’m calling the Sheriff!”
Then, there was silence.
His eyes blurring with tears, he grabbed the two suitcases and carried them to the Ranger. After he tossed them into the back, he looked once more at the house. The windows curtains had all been closed so he couldn’t see inside. He hesitated, wiped at his face, and then climbed back into the Ranger. With no where else to go, he pulled out of the driveway and headed back to Willow Creek Baptist Church with a heavy heart.
Tristian Salvadori sat at his desk in his office. This time, the lights were on. The shades were up, allowing light to shine into the extravagant office, decorated with only the best and most expensive furniture. He rather enjoyed it if any office he worked in could also be a place where he could feel at home as well.
“The visitor you expected is here,” his secretary informed him through the intercom.
“Very good,” Salvadori replied as he got to his feet. “Let’s not keep him waiting, shall we? Send him right in.”
A few moments later, the door opened, and in walked a young man who was beaming with pride at this opportunity. Not everyone had the honor to be invited into the presence of greatness. It was true the world had yet to see the full measure of Tristian Salvadori’s prowess, but Youmud Musad believed it was about to. He knew times were already changing. Through his own father, he had been able to witness the works Salvadori wrought and believed he was the Mahdi, the divinely guided one.
He bowed his head, peeking up at Salvadori respectfully. “It is a great honor to be in your presence, most gifted one.”
Salvadori laughed. “Oh, Youmud. Please. I am as ordinary as your father.”
“Oh, no, your magnificence. Please allow me to say that you are not ordinary. My father was a great man, but you are greater still.”
“Now, young man. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist that you stop calling me these…wonderful, if true, names. Especially when in public.”
Musad paled. “P-public? No…Am I to actually believe I will have the honor to be seen in public with such greatness?”
Salvadori laughed again. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you? Please…indulge me. You may lavish any name upon me that you like, but I prefer Tristian. In public, I shall be addressed as…Advocate Salvadori.” A gleam of pride shown through his eyes. “Advocate Tristian Salvadori.” He smiled. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, it is a title worthy of you…Advocate Salvadori!”
He nodded approvingly. “That does have a nice ring to it, and it will most definitely do for now.” He moved to stand before the younger man, holding out his hand. “Allow me to welcome you with offerings of thanksgiving in all that you have done to carry on with your father’s work. A work I had entrusted him with.”
Youmud not only looked pleased, but genuinely humbled in the presence of one he believed was greater than he. “I only desire to do your blessed will, my Advocate.”
Salvadori smiled affectionately at him, as if he were a child who had done something to make a parent proud. “And that is why you are here today, because you will continue to carry out my plans. I know I do not have to tell you what a privilege it is for you to be here because many are called…but so few are chosen.” He paused for affect. “You have been chosen for a very important task. A task I can trust with no other.”
Youmud was speechless. He could only stare in awe as the truth of the matter began to sink in.
“It is by no accident you are here today. Your father and I had foreseen what would transpire as a result of the attacks on the US. Now another phase of the plan can be implemented…and you are just the man to do it.”
“Me…Advocate?”
Salvadori nodded. “You.”
“I…I do not understand this honor. I do not believe I am worthy to do this…but I know I will not let you down. I will serve you in any way I can. Even to my last breath.”
He placed his hands upon the shoulder of the younger man and squeezed them. “I know you will.” Then he patted him on the back. “Come. Let me offer you a refreshment. You may have anything you like. Just name it, and I will get it for you.”
Youmud looked mortified. “Oh, I have no need for anything, Advocate. To be here in your presence is enough.”
“You are a guest here, Youmud. You must accept my hospitality.”
“Oh, no, I-I couldn’t! I am your servant, and I--”
“If you refuse me, then how can you serve me?”
Youmud froze in terror. He stared at his Mahdi with wide eyes, unable to trust himself to speak.
“Great leaders are great servants first. Remember that. If I am not allowed to serve, then how can I lead? Do you understand?”
Youmud nodded, suddenly aware that his throat was very dry.
“Now…can I get you something?”
He swallowed nervously. “Water, please, Advocate.”
Salvadori nodded his head once and headed across the large office to a bar at the back. The bar and refrigerator were stocked well with beverages, and food. He took out two bottles of cold water and carried them over to Youmud. He handed the man one and kept one for himself. He indicated the sofa in the center of the office. “Please…sit.”
Afraid to displease him, Youmud took his bottle of water and sat on the sofa.
Salvadori sat in a recliner next to the sofa, but did not recline in it. He smiled at Youmud as he opened his bottle of water. “There truly is nothing more refreshing than ice cold water.” He took a swallow from the bottle. “Ah! Now, this is a luxury people will soon be fighting over…unless we can prepare for it. Do you agree?”
Youmud nodded. “Yes, Advocate.”
He waved a hand in the air. “Please, Youmud. Stop calling me Advocate after everything you say. It is not necessary.”
“Yes, Advo -” He stopped himself. Then, he nodded. “Of course.”
Salvadori paused. “Good. Now…let us get down to why you are here. As you know, all hostilities have ceased. For the moment, I do have the full backing of the European Union, and they will assist in seizing all nuclear facilities to prevent further blood shed. These facilities will remain in their control. Terrorism has been ended, but the process of moving toward unilateral peace on this planet has only just begun.” He set his bottle of water on the glass coffee table before him. “However, you and I both know that there are a certain select few who will oppose everything we do in spite of the good we are to accomplish.”
Youmud nodded. “Christians and Jews,” he spat out.
“I see that you truly do understand.”
“But…but if there are no further hostilities, how can any of us do what is necessary?”
“Oh, there is coming a time when you will do something necessary. In fact, I would like to send you on a mission of great importance. But first, I must ask you…” He paused. “How is your brother?”
Youmud could not keep the contempt from his voice. “I have no brother.”
“Oh, but you do. Where is he?”
“I don’t know. I last saw him in Albany, after the attacks.” He looked away, suddenly embarrassed. “He has denounced Islam! He has become an infidel and is no longer my brother!”
“Did you know that your father had foreseen this?”
Youmud nodded. “I have had many discussions with my father about him. My father confided in me and prepared me to serve you.”
“Yes, he has. Your father and I share a history together. It was I who bade him to choose you over your brother for this task. He wanted to train your brother…but I had chosen you and therefore…you are the one I knew would be here today. Your brother will be taken care of in due time. He will receive his punishment, as all will who continue to rebel against the new world order. A change is coming, my young friend. And it is already upon us. Are you ready for it?
Youmud nodded. “I am.”
“Good, then -”
He was interrupted by his intercom going off on his desk with his secretary’s voice. “Advocate Salvadori…?”
Something dark and sinister flashed in his eyes as he rose to his feet and approached his desk. He pressed the button on the intercom. “Why are you disturbing us when you were clearly told not to?”
There was a pause. “Please, Advocate…I only wanted to warn you what was on television. I thought you would want to see it right away.”
Without another word, he turned off the intercom, picked up the remote control from the coffee table and aimed it at the huge, flat screen television hanging from the wall. There was only one channel it was already tuned into and that was the channel that carried the DEN news. He had been watching it earlier. On the screen now were several men and one woman with the scene of the White House behind them.
Two of the men caught his attention immediately. They were Matthew Lambert and Charles McLaughlin of the Secret Service. He knew about them because he had needed to know about them and had his faithful sources find out all they could know about them. He was familiar with one of the others as well, but only briefly.
“What?” Lambert demanded. “Are you out of your mind? There is no Antichrist, McLaughlin. You mean to tell me that you came back to tell us the Antichrist had the President of the United States assassinated? This isn’t Science Fiction!”
Salvadori pursed his lips in thought. He was aware that the so-called Christian community would begin to give him such an esteemed title, but he hadn’t expected it so early.
“No, it’s not Science Fiction.” McLaughlin stood his ground. “It just happens to be prophecy coming to life. The Antichrist is the one responsible for this attack. He personally orchestrated the whole thing with an agency the world has yet to learn about. That agency is called AIM. Agency Intelligence Merge. AIM’s sole purpose is to carry out the directives set up by Tristian Salvadori, and Tristian Salvadori is the Antichrist.”
Anger gripped Salvadori and he suddenly had the urge to reach through the television set and strangle McLaughlin. Unfortunately, he knew he was unable to do just that. However, he was convinced he could not let this incident pass by without some type of response. After all, his character had just been questioned before one of his partisans.
“What an outrageous lie!” Youmud declared, rising to his feet. “Who is this fool to say such a thing!”
Salvadori held up a hand. “It’s alright. It shall not go unpunished.” He walked over to his desk.
Salvadori had plans he had been working on for most of his life to get him to where he was at that moment. He still had things to do, but because of his ingenuity and preparedness for the future, he had many working for him. AIM was one of those steps he had started and it was an agency designed specifically to carry out his plans for world domination. His plans were so set in stone, he had already had a pawn to take the fall for the President’s demise.
That plan suddenly changed.
He picked up the phone and dialed a secure number.
“Yes,” a voice responded.
Salvadori didn’t waste any time. “The man responsible for the atrocities today at the White House is Charles McLaughlin.”
“This man will be apprehended immediately.”
“No. This man will be killed on sight.” Salvadori hung up the phone and turned to Youmud with a pleasant smile. “I apologize for the interruption. It won’t happen again.” As he rejoined Youmud, he was already thinking of ways to dispose of the secretary for allowing the interruption to begin with and then finding someone to replace her.
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