Chapter 4
2018
Hamlet’s Security in Chicago was a buzz. John Bettle had dropped out of sight. Peter Eagleton, the head of MMG security, was a man that prided himself on being able to find anyone, at any time, especially an MMG’er. His job was to make sure he had knowledge of MMG member’s locations and listening devises in place so nothing was missed.
As he walked through the data center a lieutenant came over with some background on Bettle. “Yes, yes, get that up on screen 12 where everyone can see it,” he said.
He had the task of following Sixty MMG insiders, and vetting about 600 others. His organization occupied the whole 15th floor of a downtown skyscraper, with three sides having a view of Lake Michigan. They dabbled in security as a cover but their major role was MMG related; keeping tabs on MMG elite, private investigation, deep background checks, and some minor muscle when needed.
“JB,” he yelled at one of the researchers, “do we have anything new on traffic cameras?”
“No sir, no hits yet, sir.”
The large security data center was located in the middle of the floor. The room had no connection to the outside of the building, keeping it safe from all electronic surveillance. Two walls of the room were covered with large electronic screens. The screens could be manipulated to show 40 different images all the way down to one large image. At capacity there were 40 operatives manning computers and phones. There were additional phone banks outside of the room as well. The room normally monitored the MMG, and those the MMG wished to watch, but today the room was all hands on deck looking for Bettle.
Eagleton was a former college linebacker, 6’3”, 225 pounds, and outside of a reminder scar on his reconstructed knee he felt he could still be playing at the age of 43. He dressed like a stock broker, impeccable suit, expensive white shirt, and shined black shoes so clean you could see your face in them. He had been with MMG for 17 years, recruited out of the NSA with a Navy Seal background. As an MMG insider he was financially secure, but his passion was technology, listening devises, and disguises. It was said that he could disappear in plain sight and could then walk back in forth in front of you and you would not recognize him as the same person.
When at full attention, which was most of the time, he commanded respect. He was smart, powerfully built, and a student of his passion.
The Ten, the Sixty and the C6 were members of the MMG. The Mastermind Group leadership started at the top with a group of ten people. The Ten filled the definition of a mastermind group, a collection of people from different specialties that worked together for a common goal, each sharing their expertise. Each member of the Ten had been grown, with MMG influence, into a world leader in their specialty in the outside world. The Ten rotated the MMG leadership position every year, but the leader role was basically an agenda creator and meeting facilitator, since the team worked together on all aspects. The true business of the group would not be expected to change depending on who was leading.
The Ten not only had different specialties but lived in different parts of the world. Each had a communication room that allowed secure video transmission so they could meet. Multiple screens and cameras allowed each person to communicate directly with another, as if they were in a room together. They normally only met in person once a year at the MMG conference, hosted by the Sixty.
Each of the Ten had a down-line group of 6 that they had responsibility for. The Sixty, as the group was called, were the visible leaders of the MMG. No one outside of the Sixty even knew there was a Ten. The leadership was a secret, allowing the Ten to be seen as an outside influence on the Sixty. The Sixty were seen from outside as leaders in their fields; IT, engineers, manufacturing, sales, finance, media, logistics, professors; just to name a few. The Sixty held an annual event sponsored by the MMG that pulled in people from all over, including world leaders. It was by invitation only, only the best were invited, and the event was one of the hottest tickets in the world.
Each of the Sixty had an approximate 10 person down line as well; the group of approximately 600 was called the C6. The C6 were hand-picked members of industry clubs that MMG used to create change and grow leaders. If you were picked to be a member of the C6 it was expected that you would grow into a position of leadership in your field and you would be given specialized knowledge at the right time to make sure you did. If you were not strong enough to be that leader, or would abuse the power you were given, you would be disgraced and cast aside, and the group would look for someone new.
The Sixty officially hold the annual event for the C6, as well as other select people, in cities like Zurich, Amsterdam, and Brussels. CEOs from the foremost companies in the world, as well as leaders in governments, media, academia, and science are invited, many of them already members of the Ten, Sixty, or C6. The meeting purpose given to the world is to bring these leaders together to foster global networking at the highest levels.
There is a specialty travel agent group that plans and manages the accommodations, in most cases taking over complete hotels, or series of hotel/resort areas. The event is by invitation only, no spouses or staffs are invited. Key note speakers rotate lecturing for all guests, discussing world trends and giving a vision of the next 12 months, 2 years, and 5 years. The event is not open to the public, or the media, unless by invitation.
As part of the event there are secret meetings held by each of the Sixty with their downline, the C6. These meetings are one-on-one and talk about the wants and dreams of the C6 member, and what the MMG can do for them. The purpose is to learn what people want and then to help them make it happen. The goal is to make dreams come true, gain control of the person, and then use the person as the group sees fit; all in the name of mentorship.
One of the MMG that Hamlet Security was watching had disappeared. Their last active surveillance tape at John Bettle’s home, which was nestled in a back lot of the prestigious Oak Savana Community in Oak Brook Illinois, was from 3-days ago, since then nothing. When Bettle semi-retired in 2000, he lived with his wife in a home they had built in Oak Savana Community, a gated community for the wealthy. He was still connected with the organization but only really worked when he was needed. John’s wife had passed away a while back and since then John had a routine; and the last day on the tape confirmed the routine. Up at 5:12 AM, work out, shower, read the Tribune, the Times and the Wall Street Journal, toast with peanut butter, and then off to his office computer at 8 to start watching pre-market news. John appeared to still love the market, even in retirement. Eagleton had heard stories that Bettle was the best, the person that planned extremely detailed plans that shaped or adjusted to world events. He would like to thank him someday for his insider investment advice that Eagleton had received over his career.
The last noise in the house was 3 days ago at 7 pm as Bettle had left, apparently to go out to eat. A later look around the house showed a man set to disappear and not return. His cell phone was on the kitchen table along with his house keys. His office computer had been wiped clean. He may not have been on the run, but he was making it hard for them to find him.
John Bettle was, by MMG standards, the most dangerous man in the world, and he needed to be found. Before his retirement he had specialized in creating plans, called Runs, which the MMG used to change world events, or profit from them. He had been a plan leader for over 20 years and had inside knowledge of the MMG that only a few members had. His plans detailed out change into small executable pieces. This allowed the MMG to create world change without being visible. The plans got assistance from MMG personnel without their understanding that their actions were part of a RUN, kind of like an assembly line for world change. One part doing a small job that collectively could change the world. Hundreds of little pieces, done in sequence, that would create market and world change, which allowed the MMG to profit from world events. Greed and power are powerful forces, which made it easy to get people to do what they are told without asking any questions.
&n
bsp; The reason Bettle was so dangerous is that he had knowledge of all the plans that had changed world events, including some rumored assassinations many years before. Bettle apparently held this information over the MMG leadership to make sure the black ops group did not kill for profit. His information was solid; Eagleton had seen enough to know the threat was real. He had spent years looking for Bettle’s hidden information, the man was good.
Now Bettle had gone missing and Eagleton’s group was responsible for finding him. Bud Stellar, one of the Ten was on the phone. Bud was a technology and security expert and Eagleton’s boss and mentor. “Yes, sir” Eagleton said, “we are on it. As I said before, there was no sign that he may run. I would not expect this to take much longer. We can handle it sir, there is no need for that sir. Yes sir, as you wish sir, I will make the call.” Reluctantly Eagleton agreed to call his bosses contact at the NSA and they were to start searching for John Bettle also. He did not need anyone else looking for Bettle, he knew exactly where he was; Eagleton’s loyalties had changed.
On the other side of the world another member of MMG already knew where Bettle was, dying at Mayo clinic in Rochester Minnesota. He had known for a few days and was already anticipating Bettle’s death, since word had it he was at the end of his struggle there. He had a mole in the Hamlet Security office that was watching Bettle and feeding any pertinent information back to him.
A plan had been put in place to take control of the MMG. With Bettle in his weakened state he would not even be aware of the operation. God, how he hated Bettle! His plan to control the world via the MMG was only held back by dirt John Bettle had. Soon the time would be right to execute the changes needed to move forward.
This soon to be new world leader had spent years cultivating a quiet, respectful persona; a man of peace with a hatred for violence of any kind, but he had been plotting to take over for a decade. He had been involved in a Run about ten years back and recognized the power of the MMG. While most see their role as working to take advantage of current situations, he knew they had changed things, creating the events. He researched the Run he had been involved in, secretly checking with others and understanding the many depths of the Run. He learned of the involvement of many of the players; his home office wall had been covered with a timeline, detailing out as much as he could find. Blackmail, torture, and bribes were all used to find out what he could. At the time of the run he was one of the C6.
Via a few accidents, that were created to eliminate people above and beside him, he had moved into the Sixty after about 3 years.
The move out of the Sixty, into the Ten, was much harder. There were other members in his downline that had more experience in the MMG, and his up-line leader, who was part of the Ten, was quite young. Corrupting some of the Sixty, and then killing off the member of the Ten in a way it looked like an accident had taken the full skill of his team. Learning how a Run worked had its privileges.
He could create Runs without anyone who assisted knowing they were not real. Ruining someone with full use of the world media is not a hard thing to do. Doctor up some information and tell someone to run the story. By the time it is proven to be incorrect, the person is already ruined. Using the Run to start it eliminates getting caught; no one knows where each piece comes from, just that you are to execute your piece if contacted. Murder was more dangerous to pull off, but he had connections into the black ops side, and used them when he needed to.
He had moved into the Ten 3 years ago and had a plan to take over; now with Bettle dying he deciding it was time to implement his takeover. He had started a run of his own, killing off 3 members of the Ten and enough of the Sixty to create chaos and fear. The killings would be strategic; the end result would be the organization looking for safety and leadership. Like other runs set up by the organization, since he created the event, he had a huge advantage – he knew what was going to happen before it did.
Back at Hamlet Security Pete Eagleton’s phone rang, “Eagleton”, he answered.
“Peter, I think we may have a problem. 2 of the Ten and 5 of the Sixty have died in the last 24 hours. They have all had what appear to be accidents,” said Bill Mentax.
“What! Who did we lose? Is there a pattern?” Eagleton asked.
“Well, I am afraid your mentor, Bud Stellar, was mugged as he got off the L-train on his way home. Not a lot of detail yet, but his was DOA at the hospital.”
“Not Bud, I just talked to him. He told me he was not feeling well and was headed home. Wow, I can’t believe it,” said Eagleton.
“Sorry boss,” said Mentax, “The other member of the Ten was our media mogul Takaki Mizushima; he died in his Tokyo office. Massive heart attack apparently. He had a wife and 3 kids, sorry story.”
Half a world away a single figure walks the streets of Paris heading to his next stop. The killing was the last one he had been contracted for. He was not sure who hired him but this was his third killing in 48 hours. The final one lived alone, worked 80 – 90 hours a week, and should be an easy kill. He planned to sneak into the apartment and wait for the mark to come home. The plan was to make it look like a heart attack. As he approached the back of the building he pulled himself up to the balcony on the second floor. The French door was hardly even a challenge. Once inside he started to look around the two-bedroom flat. The rooms were large, tall ceilings, and all the furnishings were top of the line. For a geek, the lady had some nice clothes, nothing he could use of course. He looked around for a place to hide, finally finding the perfect spot. By 7 pm he was getting bored; wish she would come home already. About a half hour later he heard the key in the door. He went to his selected hiding place in the bedroom closet, frozen in the corner behind a suit bag he had noticed when looking for the perfect place to hide. Hiding in a place where he could be just feet away from his mark, without them knowing, was one of his great thrills. People paid him to make people die in ways no one would even think would be murder. The person he killed earlier in the day had tripped and drowned in the bath tub, at least that is what the authorities would determine. It was one of his best moves. Tonight would be a heart attack in bed. The drug, developed exclusively for this use, would cause death in a few seconds with no residual to be found in tests. It acted so fast the person was dead almost before they even felt the air needle.
She came into the bedroom shortly after getting home. She changed clothes, hanging up the days pants just inches away from him. He could smell the lavender from the perfume she had put on that morning. After changing she cooked what smelled to be a pasta sauce, it smelled wonderful. He realized he had not eaten since late morning and hoped she would have some leftovers that he could eat before he left. By nine she had cleaned up, started the dishwasher and was coming into the bedroom. He remained frozen in place. He had practiced for years to be able to remain motionless, even working as a human mannequin at department stores to practice his craft with an audience. He could hear her breathing change into a sleep pattern, slower, deeper. After half an hour he made his way out of the closet, creeping over to her position on the left side of the bed. The air needle was cocked and in his right hand. As he approached he brought it up to her throat and pushed the release. With a whoosh the poison entered her body, she made an involuntary jump, rising and falling in almost the same movement. The result was a massive heart attack that any coroner would label natural.
He exited out the front door, down the steps and out into the dark night. He threw on a beret he had kept in his back packet, crossed the street, hands in his pockets, mumbling to himself to look like a homeless man if anyone were to see him. As he walked the six blocks to his car he couldn’t help but wondered who he was working for. He had forgotten to take the left overs, it was time to get something to eat.
Eagleton was going crazy, yelling at his team. “Two of the Ten are known dead, apparently of natural causes or accidents, one of them MY BOSS.” He yelled, “There was no official sign of foul play; even our cameras and bugs through
out the member’s homes came up empty. There are only a half-dozen groups that could pull off something like this, and we worked for one of them. We should have been informed if it was an official termination, heck; we would have provided surveillance information to make it easier.” The members of the Ten that were known dead were world leaders in media, and Eagleton’s mentor, who managed technology and security. “
Eagleton’s cell rang again, this time the call was from the NSA. Bettle was apparently dying of cancer and had checked into Saint Mary’s Hospital in Rochester Minnesota. “Thanks”, said Eagleton.
“Do we have an asset in Minnesota?” Eagleton asked a lieutenant.
“Sure, we have people in the Twin Cities,” was the response.
“Bettle is in Rochester Minnesota at Saint Mary’s Hospital. Get someone down to Rochester to check on Bettle.”
“Will do”, said the lieutenant.
The leadership team was summoned. The word came down that Hamlet Security’s focus had changed. It was now on the deaths of the MMG members and making sure the others were safe. John Bettle’s file was set to the side.