The End-Time Foretellers

by Ran Weber

  He didn’t answer.

  I followed him down the stairs that led to the parking lot. When he turned, his brown button-up shirt moved a little and revealed a gun beside his back pocket. From a distance, it looks like a SIG Sauer 238P, small and deadly. Ben turned to me, readjusted the shirt and concealed the gun. He motioned me to follow him.

  My heart pounded hard. I tried to look around and memorize escape routes in case he drew a gun out at me. We reached the bottom of the stairs, a heavy steel door before us. To my left I saw a dark corridor with two doors that turned right, one of which was slightly open. I could sprint towards the corridor, I thought.

  He pushed open the heavy door and turned back to look at me. “Well, what’s going on with you, Yoav? You daydreaming now?”

  We got into his car, a Chevrolet Malibu. The car didn’t look that new. I sat down next to him and asked, “Ben, what’s going on?”

  “You’ll soon see,” he said. “I hate these tasks.”

  He accelerated out of the parking lot, tires screeching, turned right onto Pico and went down on the 405, heading north. I wanted to ask him where we were going, but I decided not to get into it. I’d probably find out in a few minutes. I thought of pulling the handbrake, getting the car spinning and jumping out, but I was not quite sure of his intentions. He got off the 405 in the North Hollywood area, still not telling me anything. Left, right, a car lot. He stopped, pulled the handbrake, and got out of the car. I got out after him.

  “Choose.”

  I looked at him, his hand not moving toward the gun. The lot was quiet and desolate but the area was a crowded urban area. What’s his plan? I was wondered.

  “What?”

  I never thought I’d end my life in a used car lot. I glanced around, couldn’t see any escape routes. I was too far from the cars to take cover. The only thing that occurred to me was the sand – we were standing on sand that was thick enough. I could bend down quickly, cup sand in my hands and throw it into Ben’s eyes, I thought. I might manage it in time, run away from him and take cover behind one of the cars. I decided to stall and play his game.

  “Pick what, Ben?” I looked at the bulge in the shirt.

  He looked at me, bewildered.

  “Pick what car you want.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Schetritt has decided to test out your plan and give you another chance. What matters to him more than anything are the codes. He will deduct the damage to the warehouse from your salary. “

  I looked at him in amazement.

  “I’m supposed to kill you after the mission. In the meantime, you’ll work.”

  I looked at him suspiciously.

  “Relax, Yoav, you’re too serious. Schetritt said that at the end of the day it’ll all turn out for the best.”

  For the best, indeed. I suppose even though Ben was clearly joking, that must have been what Schetritt had told him to do, to let me work and get the codes and then kill me. This was not the time for speculations. I’ll deal with that when the time comes.

  “For the best?”

  “Yes,” Ben smiled. “We sat and talked about the outcomes of your stupid maneuver. It’ll shut Jim and Nash up, at least for a while. Schetritt said that he had felt that they were getting closer to him than he would have liked and now that they have made a major mess thanks to you, their boss will certainly not allow them to continue following the lead. In any case, Schetritt said that if we’re going for it, you may as well choose a car. You can choose whichever car you want. Schetritt has a special arrangement with them.”

  I scanned the lot. There were all kinds of cars, anything from a sports car to a minivan.

  “Even an SUV?”

  “Even an SUV.”

  A plump and balding salesman approached us and greeted Ben, it was clear that they knew each other.

  I saw a car I liked to my left, a second-hand 2016 Dodge Durango. Not the hottest thing in the lot, but I didn’t want to overdo it. I approached the jeep, it had an intimidating front bumper. “Cattle farm,” the salesman smiled apologetically. “We got the car from someone who has a cattle farm. But don’t worry, it’s in excellent shape.” I nodded briefly. “This is exactly what I need,” I said. The salesman looked pleased and opened the door. “You won’t regret it,” he said.

  54

  Interstate 405, Los Angeles

  The Durango was a smooth ride. I would never have dared to keep such a beast in Israel – you’d need to take out a mortgage just to afford the fuel. Sitting high on the 405 is much more fun – six lanes on either side, crammed with endless cars, small trucks and SUVs. Green hills extended on both sides of the freeway, reminding me that once, before the city had become so polluted and crowded, there was a rich natural landscape here. In truth, compared to Manhattan, for instance, it was still green and beautiful here. Especially if you head up towards Topanga, Malibu or one of the parks.

  I turned into my residential unit and noticed an unfamiliar car parked beside Binyamin’s house. I heard voices from inside the house. I quietly entered my unit and before I closed the door behind me I heard --

  “I’ll finish you, Binyamin.”

  Quiet. My heart began to accelerate.

  “Watch yourself, Donnie,” Binyamin answered from the living room in a quiet, confident voice. “I recommend you take it down a notch, and calm down.”

  I traced the wall cautiously towards Binyamin’s house. I went in quietly through the back door. The door was unlocked. I moved towards the dark staircase, unable to see into the living room.

  “I’m not kidding, Binyamin. This time I’m going to take you out, I’m tired of your crooked maneuvers.”

  I heard the click of a wooden object. “What do you have to say to that, Donnie?”

  “I... uh...”

  “Just don’t forget I got you into this game. You were nothing before that, so don’t go showing off and making threats, is that clear?”

  “It’s clear,” Donnie said despondently. “Are you going to tell him?”

  “Yes,” Binyamin said in a low voice. “I can’t go on like this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he has to know. He has to choose, that’s just how it goes.”

  “Isn’t that problematic?”

  “Yes, but it’s the truth and at some point, he’ll have to deal with it.”

  “When?” Donnie inquired.

  “I don’t know. It’s all about timing, Donnie, planning and timing.”

  I tried to improve my position and come nearer without being noticed. I managed to peek in and see the top of their heads.

  They sat intently and didn’t notice me, their eyes fixed on the center of the table. The room was completely quiet. Occasionally Donnie moved his shoulders and twisted his mouth. Until I heard a short exclamation from Binyamin.

  “Check mate.” A short silence. “You owe me three beers already, Donnie.”

  “It’s not fair!” Donnie protested. “It’s really...” Suddenly they spotted me and smiled. “He beat me again!” cried Donnie.

  “How long have you been here?” Binyamin asked. “I didn’t hear you knocking. Were you looking for something in the kitchen?”

  “Oh... the door was open. I didn’t want to interrupt the game. Is there any beer?”

  Binyamin looked at me inquisitively and then turned to Donnie. “You don’t think, Donnie. I don’t know what’s up with you lately, you’ve simply stopped thinking.”

  “It’s not that I don’t think,” Donnie apologized and glanced over at me. “This guy,” he pointed at Binyamin, “this digital monster is not really a human, I’m telling you, it’s an android.”

  Binyamin frowned as if he didn’t understand. “Huh?”

  “An android is a robot with a human appearance,” I volunteered the information.
/>   “Oh.”

  “Anyway,” Donnie went on, “this isn’t a man. He thinks a thousand moves ahead, he’s unbeatable.”

  “Tell me,” asked Binyamin, “how is the new job going?”

  I blushed. I didn’t want Donnie to find out. “Oh ok. It’s all going smoothly, to be honest.”

  “Smoothly?” he inquired.

  “Yes,” I said, considering the sequence of events since I came to the United States. “The truth is that everything has gone smoothly. It looks like I’m lucky, everything is running smoothly,” I smiled. “California is smiling at me.”

  Binyamin’s face darkened. “There is no such thing.”

  “What?”

  “Luck.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Israel is above luck.”

  “Okay, okay,” Donnie said, packing up, “I’m not in the mood for a spiritual sermon. I better beat it before he gets going.” He stood up.

  “No sermons today, Donnie, there’s good beer in the fridge, bring a few bottles. You lost, you owe us beer. You can borrow it from me until you go shopping,” he smiled. “And you, young sir,” he said, pointing at me, “you’d better start getting it into your head -- no such thing as luck. There are no coincidences. Everything is planned, personal providence. But there is choice in everything. We have to possess this dual perception. There is no chance, but neither can you let go and stop making choices. Nothing happens by accident, no situation happens for nothing, everything is planned. Even if it’s not planned on your end, someone is planning what’s going on and you’d better get with the program and respond from a standpoint of choice, awareness and will. If you forget that for one moment, you’re gone. Look at Donnie, he plays chess as if it’s all a matter of chance and look where that’s gotten him.”

  Donnie smiled awkwardly.

  It was sharp and it impacted me deeply. Binyamin usually seemed to me like an amicable run of the mill guy, but sometimes – I didn’t know how to define it exactly – sometimes even Rami and the fat man seemed like the old fellas from the Muppets next to him.

  “True,” Donnie said when he returned from the refrigerator and looked at the three cold beers in his hand, “that is one thing Binyamin is right about.”

  “Yoav,” Binyamin asked, “do you know what fish always swim with the current?”

  Donnie looked at us questioningly. I didn’t answer.

  “Dead fish.”

  55

  The Valley, Los Angeles

  I went onto the message board. Things looked like they had been heating up.

  Blackpit: We have to get out of hiding and do bigger things. I think Easybee can start with graffiti at key locations.

  Armageddon7: Big mistake, Blackpit. We need to continue keeping a low profile. The mission is too important to risk by going over ground. The time will come when the apple ripens. Don’t rush or push in.

  JimK: Me and a few other local activists who aren’t connected to the network want to disconnect the broadcast of the local broadcasting station for one day and take responsibility in the name of the Foretellers. This will raise the profile of the blessed work of the entire group. I agree with Blackpit that we should begin to do more obvious and tangible things.

  Then I saw a flood of messages condemning JimK and Blackpit. JimK and Blackpit folded.

  JimK: The real important thing is the solidarity of the group. I stand down in the name of our unity.

  Blackpit: I’m with you.

  Admin: Lions of fire, do not be afraid. The time will come. And now, keep cooking. The great eagle ventured deep into the muzzle. A black tiger circles around itself, time to attack.

  I copied the message onto my laptop and looked at the screen. I decided to take a risk and wrote a post onto the message board. “Into the black night, leaping like a beast of prey, bringing in great loot. How will the tiger enter the safe cave, back to the base point? If money is no object, who will give him way?”

  This was the point of no return. Either I understood their codes well enough to ask for help with the hack, or they’ll cut off the user Rami had provided me with. It was now or never.

  56

  Schetritt Industries, Downtown Los Angeles

  I went into my little office. I spent the first few hours installing hacking software and roaming around Google collecting data on wireless network security, when I suddenly realized what I needed to do. I went back onto the message board.

  As I expected, I received a response from admin. “Storm into the night, nets are deployed in the fortress, the fortress cannot be protected if ambition for money were to open on your behalf swift publication on the site.” That’s exactly what I thought!

  I got up and stormed out of the room. I hurried down the corridor until I stopped in front of Schetritt’s door. I knocked two quick raps on the door. “Yes?” I heard Schetritt. “Come in.”

  I went into his office and saw Ben sitting beside him. Schetritt looked at me with a half-smile. “Well? Have you discovered the new world?”

  “Sort of,” I said. “I need forty-five grand and I’ll get access to the computers of the LA Times.”

  Schetritt looked at Ben and said, “This guy demonstrates quite a bit of confidence. Not only does he think he’ll easily break into the Times’ computers, but that we’ll also give him that kind of bonus for it.”

  Ben looked up and studied me. “He seems to be serious. Why do you think we’ll give you that kind of money?”

  “No, no,” I began to explain. “I need the money for the hack. I’ll tell you later, trust me. I need a credit card with enough credit.”

  Schetritt threw a Citibank Platinum card, landing it on the table beside me. “forty-five thousand, no more. Not one dollar more! And if you lose my money and don’t manage the hack, I’ll get the money out of you, cent by cent.” He wasn’t smiling.

  “You can count on me.” I picked up the card, put it in my shirt pocket and was about to leave the room.

  “What about Passover?” Asked Schetritt.

  “What?”

  “You didn’t talk to him?” he asked Ben.

  “I didn’t get around to it.”

  “Ah. Come to Passover, it’ll be fun,” Schetritt said briskly.

  “I...” I began to stammer, I didn’t think a Seder dinner with Schetritt would be especially exciting.

  “Forget about all your plans,” Schetritt said. “My wife is insisting that you come and it’ll be a pity for you to disappoint her. She is not as calm and patient as I am.”

  57

  “LA Times sales department. How may I help?” answered a young and eager sales rep. It was early morning and it was as though he had just finished his coffee and decided to tackle head-on another gloomy day fielding calls from dissatisfied customers.

  “I want to buy an ad in the paper,” I said.

  “Absolutely, what have you got in mind?”

  “My initial budget is 25,000 for two days.”

  “Initial?” he asked with unconcealed excitement.

  “Yes, we’re bringing out a new app called L.A. COUPONS, a coupons app for the Los Angeles area, and we wanted to examine the impact of advertising in the Times. You know, to see how relevant newspaper ads are in the digital era.”

  “Listen, it’s much more…” the sales rep began to explain.

  “I’m really not sure. I spoke with friends that work in online marketing and they tried to persuade me against advertising in the newspaper.”

  “I would be happy to come and meet you to demonstrate what we could achieve together. You wouldn’t believe how effective it is.”

  “Hold on,” I said “I think it would be convenient for me to come to you. What’s the address?”

  ***

  After letting the sales rep persuade me, I asked for a short tour of their pr
inting press and the various departments. He led me anywhere I wanted, including areas classified and restricted to the general public. He had no idea that the mobile phone I had on me was running an app locating and investigating the local network.

  Dario, a Croatian software engineer specializing in apps, specifically illegal espionage apps, wrote the code that I needed. I could count on him to do the job, as we had collaborated on several projects in the past. The app that he built worked perfectly and by the end of the tour I had a list of all the wireless networks in the area. At home, I narrowed the list down to the three most interesting wireless networks. Obviously all three were blocked and highly secured.

  “Dario,” he answered, I was calling from an encrypted internet phone.

  “It’s Yoav, I got the names of the networks.”

  “Great, send them over to me, encrypted,” he said.

  I sent over the names and within a few hours, he had written new code that was added to my coupon app allowing me, once the journalists and editors installed the app, to collect their passwords for the paper’s encrypted networks. The next stage was to put the app on Google Play, from which I hoped to convince them to download it. For testing. Obviously.

  I called him again “Okay, I checked the app and it works.”

  “So?”

  “How do we get it on Google Play? You said you had an idea.”

  “I’ve got a friend who works at Google, he can put the app up through a back door.”

  Now it was my turn to say: “So?”

  “Ten thousand dollars.”

  “Excuse me?” I said angrily, “seven, not a cent more.”

  “Okay.”

  He sent the app to his friend and it appeared on Google Play. Now it was possible to download it to any Android smartphone. The next step was to authorize the advertisement. I had to actually spend money on coupons to make it effective. Instead of closing real deals with companies in the Los Angeles area, I dealt with a broker company that offered real paid coupons for companies that wanted to self-promote.