Chapter Twenty-Six

Frank Johnson was recruited because he had been a Green Beret in Vietnam and was known among his comrades as "the killing machine". He loved to kill. He was motivated, and highly intelligent.

"He's perfect for us," Janus said. "Approach him carefully. I don't want to lose him."

The first meeting took place in an Army barracks. A Captain was talking to Frank Johnson.

"Don't you worry about our government?" the Captain asked. "It's being run by a bunch of bleeding hearts who are giving the store away. This country needs nuclear power, but the damned politicians are stopping us from building new plants. We depend on the damn Arabs for oil, but will the government let us do our own off-shore drilling? Oh, no. They're more worried about the fish than they are about us. Does that make sense to you?"

"I see your point," Frank Johnson said.

"I knew you would, because you're intelligent." He was watching Johnson's face as he spoke. "If Congress won't do anything to save our country, then it's up to some of us to do something."

Frank Johnson looked puzzled. "Some of us?"

"Yeah." Enough for now, the Captain thought. "We'll talk about it later."

The next conversation was more specific. "There's a group of patriots, Frank, who are interested in protecting our world. They're pretty high-powered gentlemen. They've formed a committee. The committee may have to bend a few laws to get its work done, but in the end, it will be worth it. Are you interested?"

Frank Johnson grinned. "I'm very interested."

That was the beginning. The next meeting took place in Ottawa, Canada, and Frank Johnson met some of the members of the committee. They represented powerful interests from a dozen countries.

"We're well organized," a member explained to Frank Johnson. "We have a strict chain of command. There's a Propaganda Division, Recruiting, Tactics, Liaison ... and a Death Squad." He went on: "Almost every intelligence organization in the world is part of this."

"You mean the heads of ...?"

"No, not the heads. The deputies. The hands-on people who know what's going on, who know what danger our countries are in."

The meetings took place all over the world - Switzerland, Morocco, China - and Johnson attended all of them.

It was six months before Colonel Johnson met Janus. Janus had sent for him.

"I've been given excellent reports about you, Colonel."

Frank Johnson grinned. "I enjoy my work."

"So I've heard. You're in an advantageous position to help us."

Frank Johnson sat up straighter. "I'll do anything I can."

"Good. At the Farm, you're in charge of supervising the training of secret agents in the various services."

"That's right."

"And you get to know them and their capabilities."

"Intimately."

"What I would like you to do," Janus said, "is to recruit those who you feel would be most helpful to our organization. We're interested only in the best."

"That's easy," Colonel Johnson said. "No problem." He hesitated a moment. "I wonder ..."

"Yes?"

"I can do that with my left hand. I'd really like to do something more, something bigger." He leaned forward. "I've heard about Operation Doomsday. Doomsday is right up my alley. I'd like to be a part of that, sir."

Janus sat there, studying him a moment. Then he nodded. "Very well, you're in."

Johnson smiled. "Thank you. You won't be sorry." Colonel Frank Johnson left the meeting a very happy man. Now he would have a chance to show them what he could do.

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