The Cygnus Agenda

By Richard Martin

When investigative journalist Jessica Hahn teams up with ex Justice Department official Arnie Krench to uncover the truth behind the bizarre killing of three U.S. Marines in a Texas parking lot, the trail leads to Honduras, Panama and back to Washington D.C. What they discover is a sinister conspiracy with terrifying consequences for the American people, and a chilling reality that not only faces us in the future, but may already be with us today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781838596224

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THE CYGNUS AGENDA

Richard Martin

Copyright © 2020 Richard Martin

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 9781838596224

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Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

Also by the author:

The Hydrax Gamble

My sincere thanks to Hanna Attwell for her sterling work in copy editing and proof reading to such a high standard.

Also to Robert Elsey for his plot guidance and character development.

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

COPPERHEAD CANYON

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 1

They hadn`t stood a chance. And they didn`t even know it.

It had been seven against three, no problem for the three, at least under normal circumstances, but not tonight.

In a rain-soaked parking-lot of The Parakeet Bar, a ramshackle dive on Route 59, north-east of Linden, Texas, two men were dead. The third was in a comatose state, unlikely to survive for long and now being rushed to the ambulance on a gurney.

All three were Marines and built like them, but as Sheriff Crane gazed down on their broken bodies, pummelled to an unrecognisable state by heavy boots, he couldn`t believe it. Not only were they Marines, they were the elite guys, Special Forces, the most proficient fighting machines in the military. Pulling the cover-sheet back over the bodies he straightened and felt the disgust go right to the pit of his stomach.

As he surveyed the crime scene, officers and ambulance crews operated in the glare of eight State Police cruisers, their pulsating roof lights adding to the pervading sense of alarm. Floodlights were being hooked up to a generator truck, metal stakes hammered into the ground to hold the yellow cordon tape, a ring of State troopers already forming a human perimeter. Three ambulances stood by, doors open, awaiting an occupant, but none was forthcoming. Two bodies were in no need, the coroner having been summoned; the third Marine now in the hands of paramedics who had stopped the gurney and were in a desperate battle to save him. The police officers, pumped with adrenaline, were shouting out orders to each other as the crowd of onlookers stood by in silence, staring at the frantic activity, all of them captured by a sense of shock.

With a background of howling dogs, all fired up by the preceding violence and locked in their owner`s pick-ups, the state trooper had to raise his voice to be heard. Seems like these boys were on leave, he said to the Sheriff, heading back to their home town in Tennessee. They stopped for a couple of beers and ran into the Benson brothers who were in real whack-job condition, all juiced up on crack according to the bartender.

The Sheriff, built like an out-house and short on temper control, could barely contain his rage as he shouted in response. These Marines could take them down one handed, so how the hell did that bunch of redneck motherfuckers get the drop on them?

The trooper took a step back and wiped some rain drips from the rim of his hat before answering. The Bensons were helped by two other crack heads, and one of their girlfriends really hit off when the Marines went down, jumping all over them, stomping as hard as she could according to a witness who said it was the most savage thing she`d ever seen. That witness is sat in my patrol car, crying her eyes out and shaking like hell. Her man`s with her and he ain`t no better.

Well nobody leaves here until I say so. You go tell them that. Everyone is going to make a statement and I`m not taking no for an answer. Didn`t see nothing ain`t going to cut it on this one, you got that? Now get the bartender over here.

The bartender, with a well worn face and eyes that didn`t miss much, looked to be in a daze. Never seen anything like this is in all my years, he said to the Sheriff, tried to stop it but got beaten back every time. The Benson`s were all cracked up, probably on meth, went totally nuts when the Marines wouldn`t fight back.

What do you mean wouldn`t fight back?

Started in the bar and the Marines didn`t want to know, got their ass out of there quick. But they got caught out here and then just cowered down, put their arms up to deflect the blows, didn`t stand a chance. And once they went down they were done. The Benson`s got all crazed up, called them boys yellow livered cowards while they were booting the hell out of them. And all because they wouldn`t fight back, made me sick.

These Marines were trained to take down guys of their own calibre, beat a dozen Bensons without breaking sweat, and you`re telling me they wimped out, all three of them? Just let those meatheads beat on them. The hell`s going on here?

Don`t know, Sheriff, whole thing`s freaked me out, but these boys sure didn`t fight back, not one bit.

Then you don`t know jack shit about Special Forces Marines, no way do they back off, never!

I know that, and it makes no sense, Sheriff, but that`s what happened.

His angry eyes narrowing into slits, Sheriff Crane`s tone became aggressive. I`ll tell you what makes sense; these boys` drinks were spiked and the tox report will confirm it. So give it up, whatever the hell your name is and don`t try to bullshit me. Who spiked the drinks and with what?

Name`s Roy, and I ain`t had so much as a speeding ticket in my life, so I`m not the bad-ass you`re looking for. No way were the drinks spiked, no way in hell. They drank beers in bottles, so unless there`s something going down at the brewery you`re way off, Sheriff.

Well, we`ll see about that, and if you`re holding out on me I`ll come throw your lyin ass in jail, then let my boys show you how to respect the law.

I ain`t lyin, Sheriff, it went down like I said. I`ve stared into enough drugged up eyes in my time and I swear to God theirs were as clear as a mountain stream.

As they exchanged an unbroken stare the Sheriff made it clear he was cutting nobody any slack tonight, and was no way giving the bartender a break as hostility crept back into his tone. You look like a man searching for a lie to tell. Reckon I`m dumb enough to buy that? Tell me the truth, boy!

It is the goddamn truth, I swear!

Sheriff Crane kept up the intensity of his cold stare and let the bartender sweat a bit more. Okay, I`ll buy that, for now. So who are the other assholes that joined in the savagery? I want names!

One I`d never seen before, real mean looking dude, black hair all spiked up. The other was Johnny Red, shacks up with one of the Parker girls over in Aimesville. Reckon that was her did the stomping, crazy-assed bitch. Both the guys lost it as well, went into an uncontrolled rage, beating on them boys. The meth or crack cocaine was doing it, but the marines not fighting back seemed to take their violence to a whole new level.

The girl must be Jenny Parker, said the Sheriff, spitting on the ground. Fucking lunatic, always knew she was a psycho. Now you stay here until I say so, got that? Because I ain`t through with you yet.

Receiving a compliant nod, the Sheriff turned and walked away leaving the bartender standing astride a pothole filling with water as more rain began to fall. Sheriff Crane`s disgust with what had gone down on his patch was eating him up, and now a feeling of revenge was beginning to replace his sense of justice. In over thirty years on the job he had seen his share of sickening crime scenes, but this one had gotten to him.

McGill! he shouted to his sergeant, get your ass over here.

The heavy set sergeant trundled his considerable frame across the noise filled parking lot and stopped a little too close to the Sheriff. What are you my girlfriend, back the hell off, McGill, I don`t want to smell your breath. Now listen up. Get some muscle together, get over to the Benson place and drag these motherfuckers out of there. By the balls if you have to, in fact preferably. I want these boys to show clear signs they resisted arrest. You get my drift, sergeant?

What if they stick a bunch of shotguns through the window and threaten to shoot?

Jesus H. Christ, has nobody around here got any cahunas? Blast their ass to hell if they come up with any of that shit. They`re murdering sons of bitches, so on this one there ain`t no rules sergeant, got it?

McGill seemed to get it pretty quick, smiling as he realised the power he had been given and the chance to play out a long held fantasy. I`ll get these mothers for you, Sheriff, don`t you worry.

On hearing McGill`s fired up words the Sheriff began to re-think his instructions, wondering if it had been irresponsible. It only took a few seconds to decide. The hell with it, these murdering bastards deserve what`s coming to them. Go to it McGill, tear them up!

Surveying the frenetic activity which seemed to be feeding on itself, the Sheriff turned his head away and watched the arrival of two more patrol cars, mud and pebbles kicked up as they skidded to a halt. He understood the adrenaline pumping response of his officers, their morbid fascination, and then their anger when told what had happened. He had been like that once, but tonight it was different: the savagery, the evil of such a gratuitous act, and right now all he could think about was quitting. Moving back to the third ambulance and staring in, he glanced at the medic sat by the third Marine. A shake of the head indicated that a triple murder was going to be tomorrow`s headline.

Looking up at a break in the fast moving, angry clouds, he caught a faint sliver of illumination from the quarter moon then trundled wearily back to the police car, threw his rain-soaked hat on the seat next to him and sat in silence. As he watched his sergeant spin the wheels of his cruiser and take off to round up the Benson brothers, two other patrol cars on his tail, he laid his head against the back-rest and reflected on what it all meant. His experience told him this was the start of something big, and that it would be an investigation which wouldn`t include him. It would be kicked up to a higher level, and after what he had seen, that suited him just fine. With the bizarre nature of the Marine`s slaying he knew that people further up the food chain would use a nationwide story like this for all sorts of purposes, their objectives entirely self serving, truth and justice a secondary consideration.

It was a week after the attack on the Marines that the national press frenzy got its first political move to latch on to. Crammed into a makeshift Press Room on a hot, humid day in Washington DC, the reporters cursed a set of ceiling fans that were fighting a losing battle, leaving everyone sweaty and agitated. The delay was now promoting a rumble of anger, the journalists given only scant information and left unsure who might be addressing them due to a last minute change. With speculation rising and rumour being given undue credence, some seemed puzzled, others convinced they were facing a snow job.

Nervously pacing off-stage was Senator John Carlucci who had been nominated to front the announcement, a keenly awaited response by the government to what was now a daily headline matter. People had been angered by the Texas incident and its irresponsible social media comments, fake news pouring fuel on the fire. The bludgeoning to death of three Marines had caused nationwide revulsion at the depths to which human depravity could sink. But questions were now being asked about the Marines themselves and their refusal to fight back. The demand for answers and accusations of a cover-up involving the military had now reached a stage where government action was unavoidable, and the Senator had drawn the short straw.

As Senator Carlucci prepared himself for the challenge by rehearsing his opening remarks, he monitored the awaiting Press-pack, their mood a clear indication of deepening hostility at government inaction. And now he could feel a burning sensation in his stomach as he prepared to take up position at the lectern. Every year for the past three he had played the long game, political cunning and expediency paying off; but today presented a unique opportunity, though a dangerous one. It meant sticking his neck out, a make or break pitch that he had kept from his top aide, knowing her disapproval was guaranteed.

Dabbing perspiration from his forehead he turned to her. That`s a lynch mob out there. Menacing is the word that springs to mind. How the hell did I let myself get into this?

His aide, Elizabeth Strom knew why, but she also knew it was the wrong time for a right answer. You want the next job up then this is where it starts, you take the heat at this level. But tread carefully Senator, and no risky promises, okay?

Wouldn`t mind if the Defense Committee chairman could be trusted for the pay-back, but we both know he can`t, so this could be a sacrifice for nothing.

The chairman didn`t get to his position without knowing how to exploit people, he`s a master at it. Look what happened to his long time aide, Edward Mertz. He was thrown to the wolves. Congress is a community of the self interested, Senator, and you know that. Any reward in this game you`ve got to grab for yourself, no one`s going to hand it to you. So if you`re looking for any kind of thanks then you need a reality check.

"And if I was to tell you that I do care about getting justice for these three Marines you`d turn away and laugh behind my back, that what you`re saying?

Something like that, Strom said. Just don`t come across as incensed by the situation and get carried away in a wave of moral outrage, makes you look demented.

Your honesty is refreshing young lady, but would it be such a challenge for you to occasionally sugar-coat your remarks?

You`re right, Senator, that would be a challenge. Just don`t do like Mertz did last week and look like a man on his first ice-skating attempt, arms flaying all over the place in indignation.

Carlucci smiled and straightened. I`m no Mertz, Elizabeth. I`m younger, more handsome.

Agreed, but he was elderly and a little wanting in the looks department, so I wouldn`t put much value on the comparison.

You don`t find me handsome?

Not going there, Senator, no way!

I`ll take that as a yes then.

She cast him a rueful smile and shook her head. Just watch out for the female reporters.

Why?

They`re not that keen on you.

You kidding? Why`s that?

Your history.

What about it?

Three divorces!

Okay, I`ll give you that one, he said, tightening up his tie.

Pulling himself straight he took a deep breath. Well here goes, into the pit of press-pack hell. I`ll give them my usual sweet-talk, emphasise how seriously the committee is taking this matter. See how that goes down, take it from there.

Strom was right on it. What! Try that and they`ll burst out laughing.

You reckon?

Yes I reckon. A committee investigation on something like this will promote deep skepticism and probably outright derision. Everyone knows it`ll be dragged out, go on forever then quietly sneaked out over a holiday weekend. Reality check, Senator, give them that bullshit and they`ll tear you up.

He grinned. Don`t see you ever passing the diplomacy test, Elizabeth.

Nor you, she replied instantly.

Bracing himself, Carlucci took another deep breath. Okay then, time for some leadership, take this thing head on, give them hell.

The alarmed look on Strom`s face was instantaneous, but she hadn`t been quick enough with her reaction as the Senator was already heading for the stage. The remark itself was worrying, the look in his eyes even more so, and she knew it meant trouble.

Scanning the hoard as he took up position at the lectern, Senator Carlucci tried to pick out a moderate reporter, one who might fire an opening question that would give him full control of the agenda. It was pointless. A sudden hush had descended as an authoritative voice dominated the multitude of questions being fired from all directions, the female reporter for Bloomberg News clearly the winner.

Given your position, Senator, what steps are you personally willing to take in pursuit of answers to this appalling situation that resulted in the deaths of those three Marines? I`m referring to steps that will protect you from accusations of hiding behind an anonymous Congressional Committee that we all know will snow-job and bury this.

Already he felt off balance, the aggression attached to the question a surprise. He pushed his shoulders back and tried to sound convincing. The Congressional Committee will have full investigative powers and I can assure you that no collusion with the military or with political interests will take place. Whatever happened to these boys will be fully exposed.

Carlucci could see the wave of hostility expressed in every face as a loud voice came from the back. Usual political bullshit. Unacceptable! As you were asked, tell us what you`re personally going to do to clear up this affair. Tell us the truth, Senator. Have the guts not to hide behind the façade of yet another toothless committee.

Hold up there, Carlucci said, we have to let the committee do their thing, get to the facts. I know your cynicism is justified, but we run our country on the basis of rules and institutional expertise in order to deliver the proper outcome. That`s a process we must respect.

Congress investigating the military, are you kidding? shouted someone from the middle of the room.

Before he could answer, a condemnation was thrown at him from another female reporter. Man up, Senator, these families are looking for justice, so tell us what the military did to those boys?

That`s a question full of assumptions, not helpful at this early stage, he said.

Then tell us why the government isn`t releasing the information they already hold? There`s national outrage, Senator, people are angry and becoming suspicious.

I understand the impatience and the anger. But those boys were U.S. Marines so we have to respect military protocol, a process that takes time if we are to understand the full circumstances.

The same reporter came right back. Then can you comment on the leaks emanating from government sources that this situation is more complicated than it looks. What does that mean Senator?

Means they`re just leaks, unsubstantiated.

People are already shouting cover-up, said a fiery brunette in the third row.

Carlucci`s forehead creased, his agitation beginning to show. There is no cover-up!

A seasoned male journalist at the back, with a voice that commanded attention, brought a sudden quiet to the room. The parents of those boys went on the record this morning to say that their suffering has been made worse because nobody is telling them anything. Can you promise them that you will personally guarantee to get to the truth of what really happened and why?

As Carlucci struggled to answer he again heard the words cover-up being mumbled. And now he got it, the position he was in, the proverbial rock and a hard place. He could almost feel the vanishing votes, his slender majority turning tail on him, senatorial career trashed.

His hesitation brought another shout. Action not words, take responsibility, own this thing, Senator.

Cursing his lack of preparation, Carlucci turned and looked briefly at Elizabeth Strom waiting in the wings. She met his glance with a look of concern, her open hands indicating no suggestions. Turning back to face the continuing shouts from the now openly hostile reporters, he raised his chin, took a deep breath and surrendered to his opportunistic instinct. He didn`t have the luxury of a few moments to think, knew it was decision time, double down or fold.

With a forced smile he raised his voice and cast his words to the back of the room, the determined tone commanding everyone`s attention.

I can tell you that there is already mounting evidence the Marines were affected by some change to their personalities, something that led to their undefended beating. As the autopsy found no trace of drugs or any other agent that could be deemed a contributing factor, pointing to their military activities is understandable. So I will declare to you, here and now, that I will undertake my own inquiry, separate from the committee. Their military base will be my target and every resource at my disposal will be used. My investigation will run in parallel to that of the committee but will not be part of it. I believe two investigations will provide a powerful combination of objective inquiry and the best way to get justice for those boys and their parents.

A strange calm filled the room, suspicion still in the air though diminished; but soon the silence was punctured by a fresh-faced reporter pushing his way forward. You are guaranteeing a personal inquiry, one of substance, Senator, financed by yourself. That what you`re saying?

Correct, Carlucci said.

The response was instant. Then how do you propose to achieve that, prove that the investigation findings are not tainted by political interference? You`ll be up against the military and we all know what that means.

Your lack of trust in a politician`s integrity is understandable, young man, so let me assure you, the devil will be in the detail. Who will be used and how the truth will be established I intend to share with you at my next Press conference. Everybody will be informed in good time. The method of my investigation will be rigorous, fully transparent and those used to conduct it guaranteed to be beyond political influence. That is my promise to you and the parents of those Marines.

With questions now being fired from all directions, Carlucci could feel Elizabeth Strom`s eyes boring into him, and a hesitant glance in her direction told him all he needed to know. That is all I have to say today, he said hurriedly, thank you for attending.

The Senator was into his stride before he had finished the sentence, heading off stage towards Strom whose wide-eyed expression and tight lips indicated deep alarm. Carlucci`s surprise statement had allowed a face-saving end to a difficult session but she knew it was much more than that. It was something that could backfire, and badly.

Elizabeth Strom was regarded as one of the most astute operatives in politics, her twelve years of front-line experience earning her the right to tell it like it was, and now she did just that. Marching to a quiet corner at the end of the hallway, she opened up. What the hell was that, Senator? Why did you sign up for such a thing, are you crazy?

Had no choice, Elizabeth, they were baying for blood, a commitment of substance had to be made. And this could work well for me.

Really? And how exactly do you figure that? How do you intend to deliver on such a promise? Any investigation you personally instigate will draw the same charges of complicity. You won`t have an ounce of credibility and when the whole thing goes belly-up the voters will make you pay.

His reply carried little conviction. Come on, Elizabeth, they`d do that even if I didn`t take charge. I had to show I`m on their side. The media were expecting the usual snow-job and I`ve turned that around.

Taking a step forward and displaying an earnest look, Strom emphasised her words. For the time being! And when their expectations are crushed they`ll bury you. You`ll be linked to the inevitable committee cover-up that we both know is coming and that will be game over, Senator.

Won`t let that happen, Elizabeth. I know how to play this and it could take me all the way.

All the way back to where you started, Strom said, under her breath.

Carlucci had heard and frowned. Okay, it was a reflex move and maybe I went too far. So how do I play this thing? How do I run an investigation the media will accept as legitimate? Find me a solution goddamn it, Elizabeth, that`s what you`re paid for!

Well thanks for that, she replied testily, and for assuming every problem can be fixed by me. This is a heart-felt issue with the voters and their anger is rising at the thought our military could be conducting weird experiments, using our troops as guinea pigs. Reasonable minds don`t buy it, but since when did the public ever apply reason when they`re all fired up. God knows what happens when they find out this military base is in Honduras.

I know, that`s going to make them even more suspicious. What the hell are we doing with a base down there anyway?

Exactly! Makes it all sound sinister as hell and will only make things worse when it leaks out. Trying to find answers for the grieving parents and allay the public`s fears is win, win. It`s the result that`s going to finish you. If the military is messing about with the creation of some modern day Frankenstein soldier then nobody`s going to find out about it, as we both know. Whatever the result, it`s going to be a cover-up and our strategy is now to make sure all eyes are not on you when it happens.

And we do that how?

She tilted her head and looked at him as if she were a headmistress."Keep the enemy close. We need to hire the media to do the investigating, but with the force of senatorial