The Unraveling

by James R. Clifford

  “Shit yeah! We’re fucking untouchable,” an agent sitting next to Graham exclaimed.

  He glared at Agent Culler, who was a bit of a loose cannon but that deficiency was offset by an efficient killing machine who was also one of the most talented interrogators Graham had ever seen.

  “I don’t recall you receiving Black Authorization,” Graham snapped. “I’m untouchable, not you.”

  “Yeah, right,” Agent Culler replied. “So what now, boss?”

  “It’s time to right some wrongs. Tonight we start Operation Long Knives. For way too long DC has been too lenient with traitors and we need to begin the purge from within. I’ve chosen each of you because of your loyalty to your country and because you simply are the best at what you do. We are at war. And make no mistake about it, we will now be operating at a magnitude that’s never been required of you, but your country needs you now more than ever. If anyone here feels they are not up to the task I would like you to leave now. There will be no shame in doing so but once we begin there is no going back. So take a minute to consider it.”

  Graham looked around the room. He knew the agents were already fully committed but he liked playing the charade, letting them think they had a choice. He knew none of them would leave but if he made a miscalculation and one decided to opt out, he was prepared to have them taken care of by the morning.

  After a brief moment of silence, the lone female agent in the room spoke, “We’re all in. So what’s the plan?”

  Graham looked over at Sara and felt that unmistakable stirring every time he looked at her. She was a five foot three, 105 pound certifiable sociopath. She had shoulder-length black hair, emerald eyes and the face of a porcelain baby doll.

  She wore top of the line designer clothes and expensive jewelry but underneath her exotic good looks and polished manners she possessed the character traits of Charles Manson including a tattoo of Medusa that started at her left shoulder blade and ran all the way down to the crack of her ass.

  Due to his line of work Graham had met a lot of cold blooded individuals but he had never met someone quite like her. They had worked closely together for the last five years and had been sex partners for just about as long.

  She was a contradiction of epic proportions and that made her dangerous but Graham was attracted to her in a way that even with his discipline he could not quell his desire. He had to have her, and he hated her for it.

  He had watched her torture and kill, eat meals at the finest restaurants, step over dead children and have sex, all with the same empty expression on her face. In fact, he tried to never look into her eyes if he could help it because it was one of the few things in this life that actually disturbed him. They say the eyes are windows to the soul, and if that was true than her soul was comprised of utter and complete darkness.

  He recalled one time giving her an expensive diamond bracelet for her birthday, that he had extorted from a corporate informer. He watched her unwrap the present and take it out of the jewelry case. She had just stared at the bracelet like it was a poisonous snake before finally asking Graham why he was giving it to her.

  When he had responded that he just wanted to get her something nice for her birthday, she had looked back down at the bracelet for a few seconds and then asked him the same question again as if she couldn’t comprehend the idea of giving someone a present on their birthday.

  Graham didn’t know how to respond to her so he took back the bracelet, placed it on her dresser then threw her down on the bed and used her in the violent way he thought she liked. Of course, he never knew whether she liked something or not, so he had to guess most of the time.

  But even more than Sara’s complete apathy to all things, it was her past that disturbed him the most. Graham was in the information business and he kept files on everyone. But even with his high-level contacts there were lengthy gaps in her life he couldn’t find any information on. No work history, medical visits, tax returns, nothing. It was like she had been a ghost for a significant number of years of her life. When he had subtly questioned her about it she had just told him the information was classified even for him.

  Graham had gone so far as to kidnap and torture a CIA recruitment agent in hope of learning something about her missing years. No matter how much he tortured the guy he swore he didn’t know anything except for rumors she was involved in a group of assassins called Hessians.

  The Hessians were kind of the equivalent of an urban legend within Homeland Security. The story goes that the mercenaries could trace their roots back to Germany during the early 1700’s and the soldiers of fortune belonged to a secret mercenary sect that operated throughout the world.

  The Hessian mercenaries had a long history of warfare, starting with successfully pushing Napoleon’s army back to France during his invasion of Germany in the early 1800’s. The Hessians went on to fight many different battles over the centuries, oftentimes switching allegiances at the drop of a hat. They had fought for Sweden against the Russians. They were hired out by King George to combat the Jacobite Rebellion and later the British used the Hessians during the Irish Rebellion of 1798.

  But it was their involvement in the American Revolution they were most widely known for. Roughly 30,000 Hessians fought for the British during the American Revolution with some accounts suggesting as many as 5000 remained in North America after the war. In fact, the folklore of the Headless Horseman was said to be a Hessian ghost who had lost his head from a cannonball during battle.

  Graham didn’t know whether any of the Hessian bullshit was true or not, all he cared about was that Sara served him and no one else. The problem he had was he didn’t know for sure who she was aligned with and that was another reason not to trust her.

  “We start tonight,” Graham answered Sara. “Grab the briefcase. We’re going to make a little house call.”

  Graham’s team walked out of the building and got into a black van with no windows. The license plates were registered so that no local law enforcement officers would dare interfere with them under any circumstances.

  Sara drove while Graham sat in the passenger seat.

  “Time to pay a little visit to the Haddocks,” he said to Sara who smiled and punched the gas.

  Graham briefed the team while Sara drove and he began to get excited over the thought of inflicting some discomfort. They arrived at the Haddocks residence and Sara pulled the van over to the curb. Graham nodded to the head tech agent who punched a few numbers into a handheld scrambler and in seconds the buildings security and surveillance monitoring system had been disabled.

  The team exited the van and entered the building. The security guards inside the lobby had already been removed and replaced by an advance team that Graham had sent over during the President’s speech.

  They took the stairs to the third floor and despite the expensive security systems outside of Haddock’s apartment, the agents dismantled the security locks in seconds and burst through the door.

  Haddock and his wife were sitting on the couch having drinks listening to classical music when the agents stormed into the apartment. After a brief moment of shock Haddock jumped up but he was quickly subdued by Sara with a punch to his kidney.

  “Take them into the bedroom,” Graham ordered.

  He looked around the expensive suite of Luther and Ester Haddock. Very interesting, he thought because the first thing he noticed was they were not hooked up to the SmartLink System. Haddock was the longtime CEO of the National Broadcasting Channel and his company had been granted the government contract to manufacture, promote and distribute the SmartLink System.

  But as they all do, over the years Haddock had gotten a little too big for his britches and Graham had built a nice little dossier on him knowing it would be useful one day. That day was now and tonight’s visit would lay the foundation for his master plan. Haddock and his network were the kings of state propaganda and if all went well he would need Haddock’s services very shortly.

  G
raham walked into the bedroom where Mr. and Mrs. Haddock were seated in chairs after having been stripped of their clothes. The sight of the naked, 70-plus year old couple made him sick to his stomach but it was an effective interrogation and torture tactic.

  “What the hell do you want?” Haddock angrily swore. “Do you know who I am? I’ll have your fucking ass for this you bastard.”

  Graham smiled. “Only an arrogant fool would say something like that considering your situation. But I do have to say I admire your balls.”

  “Who are you? And what do you want?”

  “I am Agent Larson Graham, Midwest Director of Homeland Security.”

  “You can’t come in here and do this,” Haddock screamed. “I swear I’ll have you arrested and sent to a FEMA camp where you’ll rot to death you little prick.”

  Graham smiled then nodded toward Agent Culler who proceeded to slap Mrs. Haddock across the face so hard it echoed off the bedroom walls. At first Mrs. Haddock was too stunned to even change facial expressions but after her tiny brain registered what had happened, tears flowed followed by bellowing sobs. Her heaving wrinkled mass of fat rolls and sagging breasts was almost too much for Graham to take.

  “Okay, stop. Leave my wife out of this,” Haddock pleaded in a more docile tone. “She has nothing to do with this. I’m sure we can work something out. You do know who I am, right?”

  “Of course I know who you are but just to let you know, your wife is going to very much be part of this.”

  “Why are you doing this? I am a friend and supporter of DC. Surely you’re aware of that?”

  “So you say but that is not the real issue.”

  “Well, what is it then? We can work something out. Just tell me what you want.”

  Graham walked behind the couple trying not to look at their backsides for fear of retching. “Do you really think we can work out a mutual agreement?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Haddock answered.

  Graham picked up an expensive antique figurine from their bedside table and studied the exquisite design. “What’s this?”

  “It is from ancient Macedonia. From the time of Alexander the Great. Take it if you want it. It’s worth a small fortune.”

  He sat the antique back down on the table. “Sorry, Mr. Haddock, I’m not sure I believe that I can trust you regarding our future partnership.”

  “But I don’t even know what you want?” Haddock protested.

  Graham nodded over to Agent Culler who pulled a large computer monitor out of the duffel bag. He dragged a coffee table in front of the Haddocks and turned on the screen. An image of two individuals wearing burlap bags over their heads appeared.

  It only took a few seconds before Mrs. Haddock started sobbing. “Oh my god,” she cried. “I think that is Tina and Sasha.”

  “Damn it,” Graham cursed sarcastically. “That is really disappointing. How’d you guess so fast? I reckon their clothes must have given it away. All right, remove their hoods.”

  An individual stepped in front of Haddock’s daughter and granddaughter and removed the hoods covering their heads. They were both gagged but it was not hard to see the utter fear in their eyes.

  “Please, whatever you want it’s yours,” Mr. Haddock pleaded. “I can transfer DigiDollars to any account, anywhere in the world. Any amount you want, just name it. Or, I can get you gold or silver. Please, you don’t have to do this. I told you I can get you anything and I mean anything.”

  Graham flipped off the computer screen. “Do you really mean that?”

  “You have my word. I swear it. Just let them go.”

  Graham tapped his chin pretending to ponder the offer. “Okay, let’s think about this. First of all, I don’t want your money and as you undoubtedly know gold ownership is illegal. People go to jail for those type of criminal misdeeds.”

  “I know people. I can make things happen for you if that is what you need.”

  Graham ignored Haddock and walked into the bathroom and grabbed a large towel. He came back out and threw it over Mrs. Haddock’s body because it was making him too sick to think correctly.

  “The problem I have Mr. Haddock is that I am an expert in human behavior. And I know you are a powerful man and maybe not now but in a few days you’re going to start getting really mad about our visit and I know you’re going to try and start planning some type of retribution.”

  “No. No, he won’t,” Mrs. Haddock interjected. “I swear to you I won’t let that happen. Please just let them go and I’ll personally see that he does anything you ask of him. You have my absolute word.”

  It always astounded Graham how much people would give up to protect their families. “Okay, let’s say I believe you, Mrs. Haddock and that you can control your husband regarding this matter. I will allow your daughter and grandchild to be safely returned to their home. Then we will leave here tonight and you will be free to live your lives with no interference from us. You have a beautiful home and I know you live a privileged life. That will not change but there will be a price. Mr. Haddock, from this moment forward you owe me a favor that I will call upon at some time in the future. I promise I won’t ask you to kill someone or to act in a way that will put yourself or family in direct physical harm. But I need your assurances right now that my favor will be granted without hesitation or complication. Is that a deal?”

  Haddock looked over at his wife then nodded. “You have my word.”

  “Can I trust you Mr. Haddock?”

  “I will grant your favor when it is requested without hesitation.”

  “I still don’t quite believe you but just in case, when those nagging thoughts of revenge start popping up in your head–and trust me they will–I want you to look at these documents and you better pray nothing happens to me because if it does, well here, just take a look.”

  Graham handed him a report that contained every conceivable detail about his children and grandchildren’s lives.

  “So Mr. Haddock, when the urge strikes you to seek revenge against me, please put that emotion back in its secret box where it belongs because if you fail to cooperate in any way, I promise you I won’t come for you. I won’t even come for your heinous wife whose ass looks like a million pieces of chewed bubble gum. What I and my associates will do is we will kill your grandchildren first, then your children, one by one, very slowly and very painfully. And we will even send you the tapes of their demise. So what do you say Haddock? Can you quell your true nature? Can you fight your desire for revenge knowing that it will drive you to the edge of madness? Can you do that to save your life style and precious family?”

  “Your request will not be a problem. You have my absolute word,” Haddock replied.

  Graham smiled. “Okay. I believe we have a deal. One last thing before we leave. I’d like you to tell me about your involvement or knowledge of the Dracun.”

  Haddock took a deep breath and answered. “I don’t know much about them. In fact, I’m not sure they actually exist. What I do know is stuff you’ve probably already heard, just a bunch of crap if you ask me.”

  “What are their ultimate goals?”

  “I don’t know but I’ve heard various theories.”

  “Please indulge us.”

  “There are some who believe the Dracun is a type of master race chosen by,” Haddock paused before continuing, “and I think this is bullshit, but they believe certain families were selected by an extraterrestrial power to rule over the human race.”

  “Interesting,” Graham replied. “Just for fun. Who exactly are these small groups of families and why were they chosen and for what purposes?”

  “The story goes that the Rothschild’s and a few others were granted generational wealth and almost unlimited power. In return, they operate with these extraterrestrials to control us.”

  Graham laughed. “We both know this is absurd but I am trying to get a handle on the thought process of these people who do believe in this nonsense. So, according to this fairy tale,
what do these aliens want with us?”

  “I’ve heard all kinds of crazy theories like they’re some type of parasites that feed off our electrical energy produced from our bodies. I’ve heard they are galactic nomads and they have advanced scouts on Earth waiting for their ships to arrive so they can colonize this planet and mine rare earth elements. Some believe they are from an alternate universe. A few lunatics actually are convinced they are playing some type of cosmic game with the human race for their entertainment. Kind of like a high stakes reality show.”

  “I think I like that theory the best. Thank you for the information Mr. Haddock. We’ll be leaving now. Please enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  The agents left Haddock’s apartment and returned back to Homeland headquarters where Sara dropped off the other agents and continued on with Graham.

  “Pull over to the curb for a second,” Graham instructed.

  Sara followed his instruction. “So what was the deal with tonight?”

  “Control my darling. Haddock is the Chief of State Propaganda, the master of lies and manipulation. He runs NBC and as such has power over the state information machine. I intend to use that power in the near future. If things work out like I plan he will be a valuable asset. But I had to offer him a deal he could not refuse. First we have some more business to take care of. Take a look at this.”

  He handed her a manila folder. She opened it and pulled out a black and white photo of a man, attached to a detailed surveillance report.

  “We need to get rid of this guy,” Graham said nonchalantly.

  She studied the material. “You want me to assassinate the Director of Homeland Security’s chief bodyguard?”

  “Yes. And I need you to make it look like an LT attack. Everything you need is in the packet.”

  “When do you want it done by?”

  “Immediately, but no fuckups. Just get the job done. I’ll leave it up to you when you feel the target is ready. Forget everything else for now and just take care of this.”

  “Fine,” Sara said while putting the photo and documents back into the folder. “I’m hungry. Do feel like Chinese? Or do you want to go to that little Italian place over on Madison?”