The Unraveling

by James R. Clifford

  “So they assassinated the President of the United States?”

  “Kennedy was despised by The Dracun. Evidently, JFK was an aberration to them. They didn’t support his election and besides his hatred of the Federal Reserve he posed other threats to the Dracun and their ultimate plans. Supposedly, Kennedy wanted a complete end to United States involvement in Vietnam by 1965 which was also against the Dracun’s interest.”

  “In what way?”

  “The industrial war complex is very profitable thus they constitute a very powerful group. If you controlled the world’s wealth and had the military to back that control up, you pretty much controlled everything. And for the Dracun’s plans to be successful they need the philosophy of collectivism to be instituted worldwide. A controlled population that thought they were free but in truth were enslaved. Individualism, free enterprise, self-reliance are the Dracun’s archenemies. Their goal is for a modern-day medieval-type feudal system.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if the population of Earth is made up of billions of free thinking, freedom-loving individuals, they would never stand to be enslaved by others. The Dracun have succeeded in giving us the illusion we are free, when in fact we are not. We are modern-day serfs.”

  “How could all of this remain a secret all of this time?”

  “It hasn’t. Everyone knows the conspiracies but that is the problem. Those in power have been successful in perpetuating facts and the truth as conspiracies created by whacked out nutcases. We live in a complete bizarro world where up is down, right is wrong. The truth is a lie and the lies are the truth.”

  West laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Simon asked.

  “Bizarro world. It reminds me of that comic book back in the 1960’s. It was set on a planet called htrae, which is Earth spelled backwards. Everything on the planet was the exact opposite to that on Earth. I remember one story where a salesman was selling a bunch of Bizarro bonds by pitching the bonds, “as guaranteed to lose your money”.”

  “I sure as hell feel like we are living in a bizarro world.”

  “So what do we do now?” West asked.

  Simon shook his head. “The photo is just the tip of the iceberg. There is more to it than just this. Right before he was assassinated JFK gave a speech at Columbia. He said: “The high office of the President has been used to ferment a plot to destroy American’s freedom and before I leave office, I must inform the citizens of their plight.”

  “Sounds like he was talking about the Federal Reserve?”

  “On the surface I would say that’s true but I think Kennedy knew the rabbit hole went much farther than that.”

  “Do you think he was referring to the Dracun in that speech?” West asked.

  “All roads seem to lead back to them but I don’t know if the Dracun is just a diversion or false front like Area 51. I do know DC is a smokescreen. They are the strongmen used to carry out the wishes of the Dracun.”

  “I don’t suppose they had something to do with Elvis’s death as well?” West said trying to make a joke.

  “To my knowledge he died of a heart attack while taking a poop.”

  West laughed but the night was catching up with him and he could barely keep his eyes open. Simon must have noticed his exhaustion because he stood up and said, “I’ve got a spare bedroom in the back. Go to bed. You’ll be all right here tonight. We’ll figure out something in the morning.”

  West nodded. He rose from the couch and felt like was body was being pushed down by a weight he couldn’t define. He went into Simon’s spare bedroom and didn’t even bother taking off his clothes. He collapsed on the bed and was asleep in seconds.

  “Cowards make the best torturers. Cowards understand fear and they can use it.”

  – Mark Lawrence, Prince of Thorns

  Chapter 11

  Graham walked down the corridor to the soundproof interrogation room with a sense of urgency. He opened the door and walked up to the man bound in the chair.

  “Good afternoon Jimmy, my name is Agent Larson Graham. How’s it going?”

  The man’s eyes displayed a mix of terror with a sense of the inevitable.

  “Not so good,” Jimmy answered feebly.” I guess I’m in trouble.”

  Graham was more disgusted by the man’s weak constitution than the fact that he was a traitor who had been stealing DC secrets and selling them to the highest bidder. In less than six hours the little weasel had already been broken.

  Graham had perfected interrogations and his typical protocol he had developed from trial and error consisted of three phases depending on the emotional constitution and strength of the subject. Phase One was designed to break down the natural fight or flight defenses of a person and this phase could last up to three days depending on how aggressively he felt like conducting the session. Sometimes he liked to take his time and would deliberately stretch things out.

  During this stage an individual’s senses were constantly bombarded by changing stimuli. Usually on the second day more invasive techniques were administered beginning with painful electric shocks at random time intervals over a two-day period.

  Graham had received electric shock as part of his training and the pain was intense but it was the uncertainty of when it was going to be administered that broke most people. During this phase the prisoner was also subjected to severe sleep deprivation and mental instability by randomly changing the rooms lighting from complete darkness to painful fluorescent lighting in various mood altering light spectrums.

  The thermostat was constantly changed to extremes from bone chilling temperatures to scorching hot and humid conditions. But according to the experts the worst was the high pitched noises that had been developed over the last few years. Scientists had created vibrations in certain frequencies that could literally drive a man insane.

  A sharp chill went through Graham when he recalled experiencing the vibration torture as part of his training. If there was such a thing as hell that noise had to have been part of eternal damnation.

  If a subject was tough enough to endure Phase One, Phase Two continued with the external stimulus by heightening noise tortures meant to destroy the person’s will, while not leaving any physical scars.

  Generally, after Phase One and Two, 99.9 percent of the subjects were broken and fully cooperative. Graham had only personally witnessed one person who was subjected to Phase Three. The woman had been an accomplice in the assassination of the Federal Reserve Chairman and she absolutely refused to talk.

  He actually admired the amount of pain she was willing to endure and thought she was quite amazing. But no one could withstand Phase Three for long and 22 minutes into the interrogation she suffered a massive heart attack and died. Graham wished there were more Homeland agents with her constitution because it would make his job a lot easier.

  He returned his attention to Jimmy. He knew the traitor would give him any information he needed but for fun he wanted him to watch the video.

  “Okay Jimmy we both know why you are here so I am going to cut to the chase. I want to show you this video and afterwards you have two choices. You can either cooperate or what you see in this video will be your fate. If you decide to cooperate and help your country, you will go free. It’s that simple.”

  Graham saw a spark of hope in Jimmy’s eyes. It was a look he saw in just about everyone. Little did they know how much that hope was going to cost.

  “Agent Graham,” he slobbered. “I swear I am willing to tell you, or do anything you ask. I’m sorry about stealing the computer. I ….”

  “Shhh,” Graham put a finger to his lips. “I believe you but just in case you try and mislead me I want to show you what the consequences will be.”

  He motioned to the technician who attached eyelid clamps onto Jimmy’s eye socket to ensure he watched every gruesome detail of what his penalty would be if he refused to join up or provided false or misleading information. When the video was over Graham ordered
the technician to remove the clamps, mouthpiece and his restraints.

  Jimmy’s face registered pure terror. “I swear I’ll do anything you want. Anything,” Jimmy blathered. “I’m sorry. Please tell me what I can do to help you?”

  Graham held back his disgust and forced a smile. “I think you mean it, Jimmy. I really do. That is a good start.”

  “So let’s begin with an easy question. Who was at the bar with you and what was the nature of the meeting?”

  Jimmy didn’t even hesitate. “His name is West Collins. He is a reporter for the World Weekly Enquirer.”

  “West Collins?” Graham asked again.

  “Yes.

  Little surprised Graham these days but the coincidence was a bit unsettling. He and his partner had just interviewed Collins in a follow up to Mark Sloan’s death who they knew was deeply involved with the LT’s. Graham also believed there was a chance West was in possession of a book that could perhaps provide more information about the Dracun.

  If there was one thing Graham hated it was the unknown and he had become more and more convinced the real power in the world was not held by the President and Homeland Security. The true power had remained elusive and he could not rule out the possibility that the Dracun were the ones he was looking for.

  “And why were you meeting with him?”

  “He wanted information about a guy named Nigel Firth.”

  “So this meeting had nothing to do with the quantum computer you stole.”

  “No. He didn’t know anything about the computer, he just wanted information on Firth.”

  “And what did he want to know about Mr. Firth?”

  “Contact information. He believed Firth had been scrubbed from the system. West thinks he might be part of a group called the Dracun.”

  “And why did he think you could get him this information?”

  He watched Jimmy cringe at the question. “I’ve done work for him in the past. I’ve used resources, access that I had at work to gather information.”

  “I see,” Graham said. “We had forensic computer scientists sifting through all your computer history. I do have to say you’re good but you guys always make one simple, really stupid mistake.”

  Graham stared at Jimmy. “C’mon play your part you’re supposed to say, what mistake is that?”

  “Ah, what mistake is that?” Jimmy mumbled.

  “You always think you are smarter than everyone else and that you will never be caught. The money even becomes a secondary issue. Am I right?”

  “Yes,” Jimmy answered with a look like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck ready to plow it over.

  “So what type of information was Mr. Collins interested in?”

  “As far as I know it was always research for newspaper articles. Generally, he asked for background or contact information about people in finance or you know, DC related. But I swear to God this is the first time I had met with him in years.”

  “You know what Jimmy, I believe you. But we have one big problem. I could probably have worked something out but the computer is a different story. You know just the act of stealing that quantum computer is a capital offense?”

  Jimmy nodded trying to stifle a sob.

  Graham continued, “I want you to think about this long and hard. Is there anything you forgot to tell me about Mr. Collins or the purpose of your meeting?”

  “No. I swear. That is it.”

  He believed Jimmy but there was one thing he didn’t believe in and could not dismiss and that was coincidence. They had gone to West’s office on a basic fact-finding mission after discovering West’s name among some of Sloan’s documents and now this business with Jimmy. West Collins had now become a person of high interest.

  “Well, Jimmy do you have anything to say for yourself?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll do anything you ask of me. Just name it.”

  “Anything?” Graham repeated.

  “Yes, I swear. Anything.”

  “Okay then. I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Graham nodded to the technician behind Jimmy. The technician walked up to Jimmy and injected a powerful anesthetic into his neck.

  • • •

  “Jimmy … Jimmy. Wake up Mr. Sleepy Head.”

  The hacker began to stir and his eyelids started to flicker.

  “Sit him up,” Graham instructed the technicians. “Jimmy.” Graham snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. “Nod if you understand me?”

  The anti-dose worked quickly and the hacker was becoming lucid. Jimmy slowly nodded his head.

  “Good. Guess what partner, you’re free to go and the best part is I want you to go home and resume your normal activities, just act like nothing happened.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said weakly. “What happened to me? What do you want me to do for you?”

  “Why nothing Jimmy-Boy. Like I said go home, continue to hang out with your hacker buddies. But most importantly, I want you to continue all your illegal computer and subversive activities. In fact, we want you to even become more aggressive.”

  “I … I don’t understand. I don’t want to get in any more trouble. I want to help.”

  “You will be helping us because now you work for us. You will be collecting valuable data and helping us infiltrate the LT’s. You will be a hero.”

  “Am I supposed to send you reports or meet with you?”

  Graham smiled. “Nope, you don’t have to do a thing.”

  A confused look appeared on Jimmy’s face. Graham paused. This was the part of the interrogation he loved the best. “We’ve implanted you with a Super Bug.”

  “A what?” Jimmy asked.

  Graham laughed. “And you hacker guys think you know everything. A Super Bug is a state of the art surveillance device. It tracks your movements but more importantly it is a surveillance device that will record all of your conversations and computer activities. Everything. Isn’t that terrific?”

  Jimmy looked down at his body. “So I’m like wired? Where is it?”

  “Why it’s been implanted inside of you.”

  Graham watched in amusement as the man tried to digest the information. “And just so you know, Jimmy. The device cannot be disabled or removed. If someone tries to do that the device will emit a neurotoxin that will kill you in seconds. And we don’t want that to happen, do we?”

  Jimmy slowly nodded as the reality of his situation began to set in.

  “Good then. Go and live your life my friend and I’d like to thank you for your service to your country. You are a true patriot. I will be in touch if I need anything specific but until then you are free to go.”

  “But what about West? What should I tell him if he contacts me?”

  “Play it like we discussed but remember we will be monitoring everything. He has a book that belongs to me and you’re going to help me get it back.”

  Graham laughed and left his surveillance slave to his fate. It was time to have a little conversation with Mr. Firth.

  “There was a possibility I could have been under surveillance.“

  – David Julius Rosenberg

  Chapter 12

  West stared out of the cab’s window with a sense of dread. Dark clouds hung low across the skyline and a dirty mist made everything look old and dull. The day promised to be warm but West couldn’t seem to shake a chill running through his body.

  The last few days had thrown his world upside down but maybe that was what he needed to wake up from his lethargic existence. Even though West knew he was in danger he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Despite the mess he was in, he felt alive. He looked over at Simon, who was typing something into his phone and he still couldn’t believe he never had an inkling about what really happened at the paper.

  “What do you think happened to Jimmy?” West asked.

  “Like I already told you, he gave them your name and that you wanted information on Nigel Firth. Then he gave them every detail of every
meeting you ever had.”

  “You think so?”

  “Trust me everyone eventually gives into DC interrogation techniques. I checked with a few sources. Your buddy has a checkered history. Even though he worked for the government Jimmy was a day trader and he didn’t have allegiance towards anyone, except whoever was willing to pay him money. The big question is what is DC going to do with you?”

  The cab stopped in front of the newspaper building and dropped them off. They stood on the sidewalk and Simon glanced around. “Listen, we’ve got to play it cool and come up with a game plan.”

  “Game plan,” West said angrily. “I’m fucking toast. You said so yourself.”

  “We’re all toast. There are just different degrees of how badly burned. The one thing on your side, at least for the moment, is that your threat assessment level has not been raised.”

  “What the hell is a threat assessment level and how would you even know that?”

  Simon smiled. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. We’ll talk about that later. But DHS has a master database called Protector and every single person in the United States is registered and has a file within the program. It is an algorithm and runs Monte Carlo simulations to assign a threat assessment level from one to ten. Continuous updates are added and your assessment level could rise or fall depending on their analysis models.”

  “And what does DC do with these assessment levels?”

  “If you reach Level Seven or above, unless they are using you for some purpose, you’re either in a federal prison, been assigned to a FEMA camp or dead. If you have a rating of three through six you are carefully monitored. A week ago you carried a Level Four mostly leftover from your subversive reporting days and that has not changed, yet.”