The Fall of America: Call Sign Copperhead (Book 6)

by W. R. Benton

  AGENT X1 was a quiet man who rarely spoke to anyone not related to his work, and even his wife had no idea what he did for a living, thinking he worked in the stock market. He worked for an individual with a high management position in the stock market, but his payments originated in Switzerland, not that X1 cared. Agent X1 knew his Boss simply as Mr. Smith. Payment for his work was always done electronically, with funds that were manipulated by Certified Professional Accountants working for the U.S. Federal Government, and usually only after the money had been moved numerous times by a number of wealthy individuals. The accountants keep the money flowing in his account as government fund transfers, with all sent using legitimate payment centers. Some of his payments came from the American Government or other governments around the world.

  X1 paid no income tax, his real identity was gone, completely deleted from all computers, and there were no paper trails associated with him. He had a number of unregistered weapons, three of which he carried at this moment. He had access to any drugs, even deadly ones, he needed and could change roles in a heartbeat to complete his mission. In his office at 'work' he had over 30 passports of different nationalities and valid driver’s licenses to back them up, along with the identities of 30 different men in the world's computer system. This computer system was linked into the international do not fly listing, FBI, CIA, and the United Kingdom's MI5 and MI6 branches. Each of his “characters” was listed as no security threat, with a small image of an eye within a triangle on the lower right of each file, indicating his working for the NWO.

  Agent X1 was an enforcer for a secret organization, slowly bringing about the New World Order, and he did what was asked him, without question. He was often called to break bones, maim, or in some cases, kill. Murders done by him came in three forms; 1) The victim would simply disappear, 2) a neat and clean assassination, 3) a bloody and gory killing that could be blamed on someone else or create panic. It didn't matter much to him what he was hired to do, because X1 was a professional hit man and had been taught by the very best—the United States Government.

  After a stint with the Green Berets, he was offered a job with the FBI, which he took, and learned a great deal about the art of ending people's lives. But when he transferred to the CIA, he discovered countless ways to kill and hurt folks, but only in the service of the New World Order (NWO). It was while with the CIA he became what he was today, a deadly enforcer. What most Americans did not realize was the CIA, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and all political leaders, were neck deep in bringing the New World Order into being. Even the President of the United States was placed in the oval office by the NWO, not the American people. Each member of the senate or congress was placed there by rigged voting and the vote of the individual American, at all levels of politics, was useless and never counted. Normal crime, terrorist activities, and such didn't concern X1, because his mission was only with the NWO. If caught or arrested, he'd be released within an hour, no matter the crime. His skills were seen as essential to the American Government and the key players of the NWO establishment, who were not located in the United States, but in Europe. X1 was a tool, a very useful tool.

  He was currently in the elevator of a high priced penthouse in Houston, Texas, with an assignment. His target, James Mims, was the owner of Mims Aircraft Manufacturing Firm and he was to be terminated because he knew too much and suddenly wanted out of the NWO. X1 was an average size man, wore black plastic framed glasses which he didn't need, and a blonde wig. He had no scars, no fancy rings, absolutely nothing that folks would remember about him. He was dressed in a dark gray suit and carried three pistols with him at all times. He had a silencer screwed into the barrel of his .38 and if all went well, he'd kill the man quietly. It was 0300 and most everyone was asleep in the city.

  Walking to the door to the penthouse, he used his lock pick tools and was in the apartment in seconds. He was wearing thin, black leather driving gloves as he closed the door behind him. This place is beautiful, with images and paintings from around the world, and some of the art must be worth a fortune, he thought.

  He moved to the security system, input the code he had and now the alarm system was disarmed. He walked by a fully stocked bar in the huge living room, and dirty whiskey glasses littered the coffee and end tables.

  He pulled the.38 and moved to the bedroom. Just as he expected, his hit was laying on top of an oval bed nude with two beautiful women, who were nude as well. One woman lay on each side of him.

  Sure is a waste of good woman flesh, but I can't leave a witness, he thought.

  He raised his pistol, shot the blonde in the middle of her beautiful face and the back of her skull exploded. The redhead stirred, rolled onto her back, and he shot her in the chest, her death instantaneous. He couldn't help but admire her large breasts with hard nipples. His primary target was still sleeping, so moving close to the man, he shot him in the left eye and not a sound was heard as his body quivered as it shut down. He moved to the man's wallet on the night stand and took all of his money, removed his expensive jewelry from a jewelry box, and took his credit cards, which he'd never use. He'd shred them once back in his office. On the way out, he picked up a Rolex watch from the dresser and left, but only after programming the security system again. Now the death would be reported as a robbery and after a while, the media would grow bored and stop reporting, or they'd be ordered to stop by the NWO, who owned the media too.

  *****

  James Walker sat at his kitchen table reading the newspaper and shook his head. A minute later, he said, “Honey, there is something unusual about the killin' of that rich Mims guy in the paper here.”

  “Mims? He owns a company that builds planes, right?”

  “Yep, same guy, but according to the newspaper he and two housekeepers were killed last night and his place robbed. I don't see that happening, not with the security he must have had in place. Didn't he have guards? His place, according to the paper, was a million dollar penthouse on the top floor of the Mims Building.”

  “And just last week a CEO for some big government supplier was found drowned off the coast of Mississippi and there are still no leads. As for Mims, I doubt those women were housekeepers, if you look at their photos.” she said as she topped off his coffee cup.

  “That drowning was strange, too. The man didn't like water, couldn't swim, and didn't own a boat, and yet his body was found floating almost twelve miles off shore.” James said, and then shook his head again.

  He was in his early 60s, with a potbelly, still had his rugged outdoor looks, most of his auburn hair, and a salt and pepper beard. He'd retired from the military over 20 years ago and while over the hill physically, he'd never admit it. He had high blood pressure and his doctor was always telling him to lose weight. He'd been an investor while in the military and bought shares of some new computer companies and now was a fairly wealthy man, but you'd never know it. He was dressed his usual, with jeans, ball cap, dress shirt and cowboy boots.

  “Well, it doesn't impact me or my little world. I know no billionaires and most of my friends live from payday to payday, trying to make ends meet. We're lucky you invested when you did and selected the right companies.” Donna said.

  Donna was two years younger than James, had always kept her body slim and trim, so as a result, she still turned heads when out in public. Her blonde hair now comes from a bottle but at one time it was natural. White hair waited until she was in her late fifties before it struck hard. She was popular, had a few close friends, but neither of them socialized on a large scale. She worked for the police department as a dispatcher and before that had worked a 911 switchboard. She didn't need to work, but did it to pass her time.

  She stood, bent and gave James a deep teasing kiss and said, “There will be more like that when I get off work. I think tonight would be a good time to have a candlelight supper.”

  “For sure, baby, if you want. Yes, let's do it. Call me if you have to work late. I'll thaw a couple of steaks and
have it all ready when you get home.”

  “I love you!” she yelled as she moved toward the front door, purse and keys in hand.

  “I love you, too!” he yelled back and then added, “Be safe on the way to work.”

  He finished his coffee and moved to his computer. Each morning he visited a social media site where he met his friends and exchanged information, told jokes and exchanged lies. Most were old military men like him, and a few even served in the Air Force as he had. Two or three had served with him in Thailand, Vietnam, or Guam, and he'd known them for years.

  Since he was a retired E-8, most of his friends called him “Top” for top sergeant. While they mainly gathered to joke and clown around, lately there had been some serious conversations about the New World Order Conspiracy and if it was real or not.

  “Mornin' all!” he typed, then pushed the enter key and waited. He took a sip of his hot coffee.

  “Hey, Top!” Wilson replied quickly.

  “Where is everyone this morning?” James asked.

  “I don't know. Maybe Homeland Security picked them all up.”

  James typed a “LOL.”

  Only it was possible. As veterans they often spoke their minds and to hell with who didn't like it. That's why James liked and trusted them, because they were loyal Americans who had served their nation when many others had not. They didn't look like heroes, but they were exactly the kind of men who once made America great.

  An hour later, Bill Blake came online and said, “Thomas and Jerry were both picked up for questioning by Homeland Security. Seems Tom made some comments about the President being a weak dick Muslim and they took it personal. You know how Thomas is when he gets pissed. He meant nothing and was blowing off steam.”

  “This isn't the first time.” He reminded them that Tom had been picked up before for posting images of the President dressed as a rag-head, with a camel, and a desert tent in the background. It was what the President was doing to the camel that got him in trouble. They'd warned him, slapped his wrist and he'd returned home pissed. A day later and he was back doing it again, but this time posting the President as an overweight drag queen.

  “I think all of this is part of the New World Order.” Blake said.

  “Oh? How's that?” James asked, and then laughed.

  “We are so weak now as a nation all it would take is one hard puff and we'd fall over. Look, men are dressing like women, and women like men, and our society is so corrupt and full of evil, all ya have to do is read the Bible to know we're in the end of times. Sodom and Gomorrah had nothing on us. We have adults acting like kids because they were never raised, they just grew up. No one has respect for authority, and no one even has self-respect, with piercing and self mutilation the norm. The norm!”

  “Not my problem.” James replied.

  “The President is considering letting the United Nations come in to disarm all American citizens. He claims once the weapons are gone, the deaths from guns will have to go down.”

  “I see two problems there.” James typed, “One, the American people will never give up their guns. Two, most of the murders done today are not done by law abiding citizens, but thugs. You have to be some kind of special liberal stupid to believe criminals will obey gun laws. Oh, at times Tom might find Sally in bed with his best friend and kill 'em both, but you know what I mean.”

  “On the news today he was saying if the guns were not handed over to the UN, he'd declare martial law and they'd take them from us.”

  “How'd the military react, or do you know?”

  “The Generals, except for a few, agreed with him.”

  “Of course, they're all damned yes men. Hell, they can't think on their own.” James took another drink of his coffee.

  “Consider this; They now legally listen to and record our phone calls, they scan our mail to keep track of who sent it and who it is addressed to as well. They often hack our computers, but for what, images of Mary and Frank's wedding? Cell phones are easy for them to hack and so is our computer usage online. How many drones fly over our heads or vans are parked on our street watching our homes?”

  “I don't think it's that bad.” James said, and then went into the kitchen for more coffee. He returned a couple of minutes later.

  “Damn it, James, it is that bad. The younger generations are dumber than a box of horse turds and that's the college graduates I'm talking about. I'd be surprised if many Masters level graduates can even read at the senior high school level. NSA claims they're looking for terrorists, but according to the news they've not caught a one, not a one, with all this invasion of privacy bullshit.” Blake said.

  “Not my problem.” James typed.

  “Nothing seems to be your problem today, old buddy.” Wilson typed.

  “It is your problem, my friend, and mine too.” Blake typed and then added quickly, “Our society is purposely being made stupid. The NWO is doing this on purpose, just like bringing in the millions of illegal aliens and the refugees. They want our economy to go tits up and for the United States to fall, and hard, too. One by one they want the economies of the world to collapse so they can take over. With the Liberals in charge, our economy is doomed, because we'll fall and soon, too. Hell, they've been spending money we don't have for fifty years. But the NWO, they like us doing this stuff.”

  “What is this and who is they?”

  “The rich, James, the super elite rich from around the world. I read they want to brainwash all of us, set up a world currency, one religion, no guns, no resistance, and to kill off millions of folks that are dangerous to the state, or may have serious medical problems. The mentally ill will be gassed to death or used for medical experiments. I read they want to plant chips in each of us, so they can control us, monitor our thoughts, and track us with a GPS.”

  “Hell, it sounds like Hitler and his Third Reich. LOL.” James said.

  “Some Christians are calling the chips the mark of the beast, so it's a serious issue, if it's true.” Wilson typed.

  “I just don't see it, LOL.” James replied.

  “Not funny, man, they are calling it the Fourth Reich. This Reich will not be on a national level, but a world level. It would operate the same way as Hitler ran his Reich, with concentration camps, mass gassing, public executions and so on. Hell, why do you think FEMA is making camps all over the United States? Huh? Do ya reckon they spend all the money just for hurricanes?”

  “You're forgetting all the hunters and veterans we have out there with guns. No, I ain't falling for no NWO conspiracy yet. I just don't see it happening. Do you really think the squirrel of a man we currently have as President has the balls to call the UN in to disarm us? He's only got a few months left and then he's history, and bad history at that. I don't think he could scratch his own ass if he started with his hands in his back pockets.”

  “It's not his call, James, but the NWO. The President, when elected, was worth almost one million dollars, and he had no solid source of income, not a thing, before being elected. Now, almost eight years later, he's worth over twelve million bucks. How'd he make that money legally?”

  “He was a college professor, or so I heard.” James replied.

  “No college professor is making enough to have a million dollars in the bank and I don't give a damn who they are or what college they teach. The man taught Constitutional law and he's broken it more times than any President in history. Probably more than all the other Presidents combined.” Blake replied. “Hell, I thought Grant was dishonest and his administration corrupt, but this President makes him look like a boy scout.”

  Wilson typed, “Remember a couple of elections back when it looked like retired General Wiseman would win the election? He had all the electoral votes; even the Liberals liked the man, but he lost to Goings, who was under investigation for keeping classified information in her home and on her private email server. Goings should have gone to prison, but she was the hand picked one to be our President by the NWO. Suddenly, as
the President, all the FBI charges against her were dropped, and nothing was ever said about her or her email again. I really don't think our votes mean shit and the NWO selects our leaders.”

  “Look at all the deaths too. Some of the world’s richest men and women have been found dead. Some were ruled suicides, others murder, but why? I think they weren't playing by the rules of the NWO or they've pissed them off in some way. Hell, Mims was killed just last night, but why?”

  James chuckled, took a sip of his coffee and said, “Wilson, my man, you're reading too many action books and I think you're way off with your thinking. Are you trying to tell me the NWO has hit-men?”

  “It's possible. These men and women are billionaires and can call the shots. Nothing, and I mean nothing, goes on in the world without their approval.”

  James laughed and typed, “Bullshit.”

  “James, you're wrong, good buddy. The NWO even financed the protesters and looters at all the public speaking events General Wiseman had. Those folks didn't just show up on their own. They were paid big money to raise hell and attack the General's policy on sending illegal aliens and refugees back home. If you remember, not one American flag was carried by the protesters, but plenty of Mexican and Mussy flags. They looted towns, causing millions in damages, blocked traffic on highways, and just raised hell in general. Even the blacks turned against him and blocked traffic in and out of a number of large cities in protest.”

  “Let any sumbitches try to block me on the freeway and you'll have a mass burial. I don't play that shit.” James typed, and then chuckled.

  “Pull your head out of your ass and you'll see it all around you. Kids are learning less about religion and few attend church, history has been rewritten and is no longer taught as it really happened, it's getting hard to tell the men from the women, and we're a nation of wussies. Hell, most Americans today are obese and lay on their asses all day doing nothing. Racial tensions are higher now than when Martin Luther King was marching in the 1960's. More and more Americans are getting used to the government taking care of them and that's just for starters. Under the current President, race relations have been moved back 60 years or more.” Blake said.