Read The MMG Page 13

Chapter 12

  In the early 1969 John Bettle had all the evidence he needed to blackmail the MMG and get them to call off the black ops group. He had pulled some favors, bribed a few people, and felt good that this journey was almost over. Soon he would be able to let the leadership know that he had proof of their involvement in over a dozen operations that had rocked world history, the kicker being the JFK assassination.

  His office was on the 5th floor of an office building just outside of downtown Chicago. His team in Chicago totaled 15 people, besides himself.

  As he accumulated the information needed to blackmail the MMG, he had also established a few aliases. He had cozied up to a person that created fake identities and learned that you find someone who had died, go to the court house and get a copy of a Social Security card, and then recreate the person. He established bank accounts, got drivers licenses, and even got credit cards. He also had 2 safe houses, apartments really, one in the Chicagoland area, just a short L-Train ride from his home and office. The other was in Milwaukee. Both aliases had vehicles in underground garages below the apartment buildings and he had a car under all 3 names in three different monthly-pay parking garages close to his work. He knew he was asking questions that could get him killed. He planned major events for a living, and he was trying to be ready for all possible situations that may come up.

  Copies of all of his notes were in both alias locations in large wall safes he had installed. He kept nothing in the office or in his main home. He had everything ready and had just established a way for the information to get out if he would come to some unfortunate accident. He had lawyers under all 3 names that held sealed wills that would be opened at the time of his death. All would have a packet in it to be mailed to certain people that would be charged with releasing it to the media and the government. Because he had access to all MMG personnel for assistance in the Runs, he knew the names of the MMG faithful, and he knew who he could trust.

  He had established moles in the MMG that fed him information in exchange for cash and favors. He was currently watching an investment manipulation Run and his two aliases’ were set to make a killing. The Run would start in a few hours. Bettle decided to head down to the third floor for a birthday party that was being thrown for a friend in a different company. As the elevator opened he almost ran into Molly, the front desk receptionist. Smiling he said “Hi Molly, I am going downstairs for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

  “Ok”, said Molly, as she returned to her desk.

  A 10 person team sent by the MMG was poised to move in. They had been tasked with taking out all of Bettle’s team; all 15 people on the 5th floor must die. The team had 4 suburban vehicles. Team 1 was at Bettle’s house looking for the information. Team 3 was taking a care of a person that had called in sick. Team 2 and 4 were on site with one person watching Bettle’s car and one in the building lobby.

  Kamar Mishra was part of Bettle’s team and had called in sick. He was in his kitchen having coffee as the front door was picked. He did not hear a thing until he saw the gunman come around the corner. “What the h?” He did not get out the ‘ell before the bullet took most of the back of his head off.

  The team leader was prepared to move forward but needed to be sure all was prepared. “Team 1”

  “Team 1 checking in, we’re at Bettle’s house, there is nothing here. No sign of any information, or even notes from his preparation. Nothing in the garbage. The garage is empty. This appears to be a place to sleep only. Very clean, not much in the fridge or the kitchen.”

  “Team three, status?” called out the leader.

  “Team three, the man that called in sick was found at home, sir.” Came the call from a team member that had been sent to kill Kumar Mishra. ”All Is complete, but there is no information we are looking for here that I can find.

  “Lobby?”

  “All accounted for sir, the receptionist just returned.”

  “Parking ramp?”

  “Ready and waiting, sir.”

  “Alright the remainder of team 2 and team 4, we’re set to move. Drivers stay to protect the area and make sure no one gets out. We have been practicing this, we are ready to go. Everyone on the 5th floor must die, make sure they are dead! We move now!”

  The team approached the building from their staging areas in the front and the back. There was a nod to the man in the front lobby; he was to stay as a look out. Another member broke off and held outside the elevator with a view of the stairway. The balance of the team moved into the elevator, armed to kill everyone on the 5th floor.

  After saying hi to Molly, Bettle entered the elevator to go to the third floor. As he pushed the button he was relieved he was so close to getting this all set up. Soon we should all be safe, he thought. The elevator stopped to drop him off for the party, and then continued on its way to pick up the killers on the first floor.

  As the doors opened on the 5th floor, the strike team immediately started shooting. Molly, the receptionist was first, all she got off before her death was a partial scream. All six from the strike team each got a shot off at her.

  Heads popped out of offices and once the Bettle team members realized what was happening, they started to hide. The assault teams moved with precision in 2-man teams and conducted an office to office search and gradually were sure they had killed everyone on the floor.

  “Head count!” yelled the leader of the killing squad.

  “4,” came the call from the first team of 2. 3 sir, 2 sir, 1 sir, 2 sir, 1 sir. That is only 13, Recount.” A second count came up with the same number. “Verify!”

  “Confirmed sir,” said another operative, “only 13. Looks like the main guy is missing”

  “Find him! This is not a success without him!” The leader yelled as he started to panic. This mission would be a total failure if Bettle is not killed.

  “Negative,” came the response. “We’ve torn this place apart. The rest of the floor is clean sir. There is no way he got out of the building, sir. He must be on another floor.”

  “We wait. Someone check the stairwell.”

  The phones were ringing, the team could easily be exposed if they waited too long; surely someone would come to check on things soon.

  After about 10 agonizing minutes the leader determined it was time to move out. “Let’s clear out. We will take him later.”

  The team exited the building and would need to lay in wait for Bettle to show himself.

  “Jared! Happy Birthday, man!” John said surprising Jared with a quick visit during the party his workmates were throwing for his birthday.

  “John! I am so glad you made it. I am glad you’re here. Have some cake, man!” Jared ordered.

  Jared and John had become friends; golfing buddies would be more like it. John had a regular Thursday night 4-some, he and Jared played weekends and an occasional night time round during the long June-August nights. When they golfed together they did some small talk, current events mostly. Anything that got kind of heavy would ruin the mood. They were out to just relax and enjoy the day.

  John knew many of Jared’s co-workers and ate cake and mingled for a while. Prior to leaving he headed back over by Jared. “The big 3-0! I remember those days!” John joked. There was actually a sizable crowd around Jared while John was there. “A toast! To one of the best hackers I know! To Jared!”

  “To Jared”, yelled the crowd.

  “Jared,” John yelled over a few people. “I need to get back. Maybe Saturday?”

  “Saturday, sure. I call you/you call me!”

  John waved back over his head as he headed to the elevator and rode back to the 5th floor. There was a strange smell in the elevator and he would not quite make it out. As the doors open the smell was recognized, gun powder! Molly was lying beside her desk in a pool of blood. Others were littered in the hallways. Bettle knew he had to get out. He also knew they would be watching for him.

  He was still in shock and started to leave the buildin
g, not even conscious of what he was doing. As he got into the elevator he pushed floor number 1. As the elevator started to move he realized that the first floor was a mistake. He pushed 3 and returned to the 3rd floor to his friend.

  John’s mind was ablaze with activity. He planned things to extreme detail, but very seldom did he have to think on his feet like this. John needed a disguise, but at 6’ 2” he was hard to hide. A diversion was a more reasonable plan. How do you get out of a building without being seen? he thought.

  He could yell and scream about the massacre and get people to run out of the building. He would join them, hoping the killers could not pick him out. The fire alarm would cause people to exit in droves also.

  He could call the police and have ambulances come and ride out in one of them on a gurney, but then there would be all kinds of questions and he would still be at risk when leaving the police station. He could wait the killers out and try to sneak out when it was dark.

  All he needed was to get out clean. His alias ID would protect him after that. Locked up in his safe house he could complete his packets and get out the necessary mailing.

  Bettle borrowed a phone and called the police. While he tried to be calm he was still suffering from shock and did not make a great deal of sense.

  “There has been a shooting and there may be a dozen or so people dead. The killers may still be at large. They could still be outside waiting for us to come out!”

  The dispatch asked who he was and the address of the building; he gave the address but ignored the request for his name.

  After getting off the phone he pulled the fire alarm to get people out of the building to cover his escape. He then yelled to everyone on the 3rd floor that he had returned to the 5th floor and found everyone dead. His goal was to go out with the rest of the building, hoping the fire alarm and knowledge of the deaths would get people moving, creating confusion. Along with that, he figured if the police would show up to back off the killers, he had a reasonably good chance to get out of here. He also thought maybe he could catch a break and grab a fireman’s coat and leave as a fireman.

  Bettle went with the others as they fled down the steps. In the lobby he watched as people went out of the building. He needed the police to show up, hoping to escape with their protection. He wanted to go out with the rest but he needed the cops! Finally he heard the sirens. He tried to watch for activity outside that may signal that the assassins were leaving. He did notice a Suburban leaving the area and hoped that was them.

  As he exited the building with a few stragglers he could see the police cars. Most of the people were standing around acting like they were conducting a fire drill, since they were unaware of the killings because they were not on the 3rd or 5th floor. Bettle did not want it to look like he was inciting a mass exodus, so he leaned in and said with a quiet excitement, “Everyone on the 5th floor is dead and there are still people with guns in the building – RUN!”

  As the group started to run in all directions he headed with a few that were running in the direction of the parking lot were one of his alias cars was being stored.

  The assassination team heard the police sirens and needed to leave. Team 1 had left Bettle’s house and was now watching the parking ramp where his car was parked a few blocks away.

  “Team 1; keep an eye on his car. He may be coming soon. Watch for any movement coming your way. Team 4; get out of here now, the cops are here. I am dropping off a couple people and we will fall back a few blocks.”

  As the police arrived they started to assemble the people that were still in the area. As additional officers showed up they went inside the building and still others seemed to be looking around for anything suspicious. The killers that had exited the vehicles ducked into stores and building lobbies, so as not to be noticed. Bettle was getting away.

  “Team 2 to base, team 2 to base, the project is over but one remains. I am afraid it is the main attraction. Object was verified in location but not in play during the event. Cops and fire trucks - we had to evak. We are in search at this time.”

  “Team 2 this is base. You have better find him! Our lives may depend on it!”

  At the alias parking garage John opened the trunk to the 1966 Chevy Impala he had there just in case. The new ID for Victor Lee was pulled and John Bettle became Victor Lee. John Bettle was locked away in a compartment in the trunk. Victor drove out of the parking garage and drove the few miles to the apartment leased under his name. As he pulled into the underground garage Bettle was enraged. They had killed his team! Those bastards! He vowed to not sleep until everything was ready and mailed. These people had to be stopped! His plan failed, however, at least for a short time, as he fell asleep with his head on his desk at about 4:30 AM.

  The next day Bettle completed packets and air-mailed them out to MMG members he was soliciting to help. The packets were sent across the globe as top secret assistance requests to the individuals from their MMG mentor. The members, who were in close physical proximity to certain members of the MMG leadership team, were being asked to mail the package on a specific day, so all would show up around the world at the same time no matter where the leader was located.

  Each packet contained a pre-addressed envelope to be mailed. The content of the envelope was not explained. There was just an envelope and a hand written note from the member’s mentor asking them to do this as a favor and to never speak of it again, even to the mentor.

  Inside the packet was a letter from Bettle calling out the leadership for some of the horrible things that the MMG had done, or appeared to have done. He had proof of their involvement in assassinations, market manipulations, and in some cases murder by their own hand.

  John Bettle

  MMG leadership

  This letter comes to you with a heavy heart, and is written from a secret location, since an attempt was made on my life. All members of my team are dead.

  I have brought my unhappiness about the direction of the MMG to your attention in the past, hoping to curb some of the more gruesome actions. Your response was to blackmail me with trumped up proof of my pre-knowledge of the very world events I was complaining about. While I had been tasked with projecting what would happen if any of the events were to occur, these events took place without me being aware of the plan to execute

  The time has come for change and I am imposing a hold on all MMG related coups, assassinations, market manipulations, and character assassinations without these events being planned by me and my soon to be assembled new team.

  I am a member of the MMG, and have been involved with enough criminal acts that if I was turned in, I would also be convicted of my crimes. My path has been chosen and I realize that you have enough on me to ruin me as well.

  My offer is this; I will continue to serve the MMG in a new and larger role. I will be the only planner the MMG will have. There is to be no activity without my knowledge. I will prove my worth over the next few years and will increase the power and wealth of all MMG members. This is not an end to the MMG, but instead a fresh clean start without the uncontrolled black ops that have been taking place.

  Anyone going against these rules will be disgraced. I/we know enough to ruin anyone in our group. All have played a role in our actions. No one is without blemish. Response to any action not planned and approved by me will be followed by swift, immediate action, and no mercy will be shown.

  I have established multiple avenues for the enclosed information to get out into the public view. I have enough knowledge of the MMG to know how far the tentacles reach, and so I know where the weaknesses are as well. I have also cultivated special internal alliances that will do as I say, without regard to the rest of the MMG. They are in agreement with me about the despicable acts that have been done.

  DO NOT TEST ME ON THIS! You tried to kill me; I will not hesitate to ruin you.

  This is just the beginning. There is more to come after I receive your agreement. Your positive response to this letter will b
e signaled by the following personal add run in the New York Times in the next 7 days. This will show your understanding of events and agreement to meet to discuss further actions.

  JB – all is fine, please return home. MMG

  The packets started to arrive at the homes of the MMG leadership. Phone calls were being made to see if everyone had gotten one. An emergency meeting was called and the evidence was discussed. All members of the leadership team flew into New York for a face to face meeting.

  The evidence was detailed, named names, and linked each one of them to all kinds of deception, market manipulation, and even assassinations. He had letters, notes, personal accounts, all wrapped up into proof of their involvement. If this got out they would each be ruined.

  “What are we going to do about this?” said Kord Baumann, acting MMG leader.

  “Let me track him down and kill him!” yelled Bud Stellar. Bud’s specialties lied in security and he led much of the black ops activities.

  “Are you kidding?” said Baumann, “he holds our lives in his hands. We cannot kill him, it will expose us all. I am sure his file on you was quite thick.”

  “It certainly was. I can't believe how much he knew,” said Stellar, “I am so angry! I am the one to know information about others, and no one is to have the goods on me.”

  “Yes, well, that ship has sailed, has it not. Does anyone have any ideas on what we could do? Do we call his bluff, do we rat him out and hope we are not exposed? If we are to follow his advice what do we lose? Would the restriction be a terrible thing, outside of anyone being able to restrict our actions? He is our best planner and if we assist in building him a team I am sure many of our dreams could still be fulfilled.”

  The room exploded with ideas as many of the members spoke at the same time.

  “I do not like anyone having control of our work.”

  “We cannot push him, I cannot be exposed. I would rather die.”

  “Kill, the bastard, let’s take the chance!”

  “This is our MMG, not his. We made it what it is. How dare he try to take over?”

  Kord Baumann allowed the group to vent until things settled down some and then broke in. “OK, everyone, let me tell you how I am seeing this.” Baumann, a businessman from Western Germany, was the leading expert in the group in regards to manufacturing and engineering. “As a business man it is not uncommon to use other people’s money. In doing so you are responsible to them in some ways. I have had many opportunities that would not have been possible without these arrangements, and many come with strings. An advisory board, made up of the people loaning the money, is a normal cost of doing business and must approve all capital expenditures and major market moves prior to implementation.

  Baumann scanned the room checking for the mood, and then continued. “We have all had to work with these advisory boards, or something similar, as we rose in our areas of prominence, it is just part of the leverage needed to do what we want. Bettle is not asking us to give up the work of the MMG, only to stop some of the darker side activities. He is actually professing his willingness to assist us. We have all seen his work; he is excellent at what he is offering to do for us. We may have an opportunity here that is well beyond our losses.”

  Again the room erupted with talk.

  “An advisory board, are you kidding?”

  “I have been uncomfortable with some of the things we have been doing as well.”

  “You make a good case, I am willing to discuss.”

  Bud Stellar, being more brawn than brains, took the floor. “I can’t believe we are even considering this. This man is blackmailing us! I will not give in to this situation, No one tells me what to do!”

  “Shut up Bud,” called out Lourdes Mendoza, the Mexican beverage queen. “Your entire existence is to watch what we tell you to watch, do what we tell you do, and yes, in some cases, kill who we tell you to kill. This situation would be no different. I believe we need everything on Bettle that you can find. We need to agree, but also find a way to remove this hold he has on us. Go get him Bud, find us enough dirt to stop him.”

  Roger Pithie, a professor from Australia agreed. “I agree with Lourdes. It seems at this time that Bettle has the upper hand. I have marveled at some of his work and would not think of testing him on this until we have additional information... We must find a way to get back control, but it must be discrete.”

  More points were made, discussions continued as the group worked through the issue. Baumann did not interrupt; he just wanted the participants to vent so he could continue with the meeting after some of the heat had left the argument. They had very little to bargain with at this point, he felt he just needed to lead the group to agreement with Bettle, at least for now.

  “So,” interrupted Baumann, as things died down, “what I am hearing is that some of you have been uncomfortable, as I have been, in some of the things our group as done. Others are more upset about him having control than about what he is restricting us from doing. Overall I believe we all agree that our current situation is bleak. I am asking for a show of hands to see how many of you agree we should send the personal add. This would show our agreement with Bettle that we will halt all black ops projects and work with him going forward.

  The vote was unanimous except for Bud Stellar. “I still think we should just kill him and take our chances.”

  The ad was placed. Bettle had achieved a hold on the MMG black ops. He also gained control of all projects. His soon to be assembled new team would plan all future MMG projects. Getting a team of MMG assembled held its own issues. Bettle was sure a few moles would be thrown his way.