The Unraveling

by James R. Clifford

  “Just hear me out. The history of mankind is nothing more than war with a few years of peace in-between all the slaughter. Vlad came to realize the real enemies weren’t the invading Turks but those he trusted and loved the most. He was betrayed by his soldiers, his country, his allies but none more than the Catholic Church who he had taken an oath to die for. Vlad realized all individuals are expendable and that the power structures men create are the true enemy. For an individual to be free in this world means you have to unbind yourself from the chains that imprison all of us the moment we’re born. All societal structures inevitably become corrupt. They have to be destroyed. So after coming to this realization Vlad created a group within the Order of Dragons.”

  “The Hessians?” West asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And what was, or is the Hessians mission?”

  “To destroy centralized power structures.”

  “So you don’t believe in any societies ruled by a government?”

  “No, because all powerful countries or empires or civilizations in the end become corrupt war machines, and if you don’t believe me name me one country, empire, or civilization that never succumbed to that simple fact.”

  West thought for a moment. “I can’t. But tell me what you believe, Sam.”

  “I believe in what you might loosely call individual anarchism.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Simply, I believe in the individual and their will rather than groups, organizations, governments, and even societies as a whole. The individual represents good, while the structure is evil and it is always the root of humanity’s sins.”

  “And you are willing to kill because of this belief?”

  “Where have these so-called societal structures gotten the human race? How many billions have been murdered in the name of a religion or by a madman who happened to be a leader of a powerful country? Everything becomes corrupt, eventually. It is a simple, undisputable law of nature.”

  “Sam, I don’t even know what to say. I mean so what?” West replied in exasperation. “How could you just go out and murder people because they believe in something you don’t. I mean, how’d you ever get involved with these Hessians?”

  “They approached me after I deserted the Marines. I believed everything they stood for and it was not a hard decision to join.”

  “So that is how you were able to avoid getting caught all these years.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that how you got hurt?”

  “I was sent to eliminate an executive for a media company.”

  “Why did they want him murdered?”

  “C’mon, West do you even need to ask that?”

  “Something went wrong obviously?”

  “I was taken by surprise. There was a bodyguard that wasn’t supposed to be there,” Sam paused and then continued, with a pained look. “And there was a little girl. I guess it was his daughter. She was caught in the line of fire. I killed her. I killed the little girl. Then I killed the bodyguard and the intended target. I left a bloodbath.”

  West didn’t know what to say. They sat there in silence for a few minutes until finally he asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “My time is up. I have to get out while I can.”

  “But to where? There is nowhere to hide.”

  “There is a place. A sanctuary to where I’ve earned admittance.”

  “Where?” West asked.

  “It’s called Iram.”

  “Sam, I can’t believe I even know this but you’re referring to a mythological city. You know, kind of like Atlantis. Iram doesn’t exist.”

  “Yes it does. I know because I’ve been there. I want you to go with me.” She wrapped her arms around him and whispered into his ear, “Make love to me.”

  • • •

  West woke and watched a stream of grey sunlight poke through his bedroom curtain. He rubbed the back of his neck and felt the swollen area from the implant.

  He began to feel sick to his stomach. He pondered what Sam had meant by Iram. He knew she must have been talking metaphorically but still, she was right. It was time to get out or die trying.

  The only problem was getting out of the country. Unless you had the right connections and money, leaving the United States of America was next to impossible. The risk would be enormous but even if he died trying, what would he be losing?

  Sam stirred and rolled over. Even with her bruised and battered face she was beautiful.

  West ran a finger across her cheek. “How you feeling?”

  She smiled. “Better.”

  “Sore?”

  “Yeah.”

  He ran his hand through her hair. “So you want to go to Iram, huh?”

  “It’s all going to end badly.”

  “I know.”

  “Listen Sam, there is something I’ve got to tell you. It’s going to seriously affect any decision to leave, or at least for me it is.”

  “Okay. What happened?”

  “I met Tank yesterday …”

  “He’s here in New York?” she interrupted.

  “Yes and well, I was set up. They implanted some type of neurotoxin device in my neck.”

  “Let me see.”

  He moved closer toward her and turned his head. A shiver went through him as he felt her finger trace the area where the neurotoxin had been implanted.

  “Tank did this?”

  “Well, one of his buddies did and then he showed up after.”

  “Was it an albino?”

  “Yes. How’d you know?

  “He’s used this method before to get what he wants done. I need you to tell me everything and I mean everything that was said from start to finish.”

  After telling her everything he asked, “I’m good as dead, aren’t I?”

  “It’s not good. I think the biggest problem is going to be getting out of the building with security. You can’t just walk out during her presentation. They’ll apprehend you and probably wouldn’t even let you leave the floor. We need to come up with a plan of getting you out of the room before the bomb is detonated, then somehow get you out of the building without being caught. And then I’ll have to figure something out on the neurotoxin. No matter what he says Tank would never let you live if he thought you escaped.”

  “Can you get me a gun?” West asked.

  “Why?”

  “Because when I meet with Tank I am going to kill him.”

  “You’ll die too.”

  “So? You and I both know I’m a dead man no matter if I get out of the building or not.”

  She got out of bed gingerly.

  “Where are you going?” West asked.

  “To find out how to get you out of that building.”

  “Listen Sam, even if by some miracle I get out of the building alive, what about the poison inside of me?”

  “I already have a solution for that.”

  “Sam you can barely walk.”

  “I’m okay. Stay here. I’ll figure something out.”

  Sam threw on her clothes and jacket.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, you can’t. The people I have to see would never agree to help me if you’re there. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “I do.”

  She kissed him goodbye and left his apartment.

  “Kill one man and you are a murderer. Kill millions and you are a conqueror. Kill all and you are a God.”

  – Jean Rostand

  Chapter 27

  West spent the day nervously pacing his tiny apartment waiting for Sam to return. Finally at six that night he heard two sharp knocks on the door. He looked out the peephole and it was Sam.

  He opened the door and she gave him a hug. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.

  “So any luck?” he asked resigned to his fate.

  “There’s a chance.”

  “Well, I guess that is better than nothing at all.”

  She held up a roll o
f building diagrams. “The schematics to the building. I’ve got an idea to get you out of the room where the Director is speaking. Now let’s figure a way to get you out of the building.”

  They went over to his desk. Sam spread out the building’s floor plans and went over her plans. After they had reviewed it for the 200th time they went to bed. They made love and much to West’s surprise he fell asleep and didn’t wake until the morning.

  West couldn’t believe how calm he felt. He brushed a finger though a lock of Sam’s hair then rolled out of bed and dressed. Sam woke up as he was putting on a shirt and watched him gather his things.

  “Time to go,” he said.

  Sam got out of bed and walked him to the door. They embraced. She looked him in the eye and said, “No matter what happens it will be all right.”

  He hugged her tightly and let go. He had a funny feeling he would never see her again. West flagged a cab outside his apartment and instructed the driver to take him to upper Grand Central Park. The cab dropped him off and he walked through the park to the old zoo.

  He sat on the bench and waited for Tank. After ten minutes he approached holding a small briefcase.

  He sat down next to West and without looking at him replied, “You ready?”

  “What do you think?”

  Tank handed him the briefcase. “Your press pass and credentials are in the front pocket.”

  “It is all about controlling others, isn’t?”

  “What else is there to do in this life, huh?” Tank answered. “Should I be a fucking drone like 99 percent of the world’s worthless population? Here is the deal, someone has to win and someone has to lose. That is what it is all about.”

  “That whole thing back at your compound was an act, wasn’t it?”

  “How so?”

  “You never intended to go along with the LT’s threat of detonating an EMP.”

  “What makes you so sure about that?”

  “Because I now understand who you are. You’re a textbook sociopath. At least DC is fighting for something they believe in. This is all a game to you. Nothing else matters. You’re a power hungry control freak so I know you don’t want the LT’s to detonate the EMP bomb because if that happened you’d lose your control and power.”

  Tank grunted but didn’t say anything.

  West stood. “I hope you rot in hell. If I ever see you again I will kill you.”

  He left Tank and hailed a cab which let him out a few blocks away from the Homeland Security Building. He paid the driver and hopped out. He wanted to walk the last few blocks since it might be the last time he ever would get the chance.

  It was one of those rare bright sunny days and he couldn’t believe he felt so calm, almost peaceful. It was probably because his fate was sealed and he had lost the sense of fear. Or maybe his mind had shut down and he was functioning like some kind of a robot rather than an emotional, feeling human being.

  Despite his resignation to his fate his senses seemed to be on hyper-alert. Everything seemed crisp, bright and alive. The green in the trees was more colorful. The neon signs were more brilliant. The blue in the sky was brighter. The white clouds were crisper and even the pollution-stained buildings appeared to be works of great architecture.

  He approached the Homeland Building. A concrete wall had been set up creating a perimeter that would stop any car bomb. Heavily armed agents manned the concrete checkpoint. He flashed the press pass to the guard who waved him through.

  A queue had formed at a security checkpoint outside the building’s entrance. It took ten minutes for him to reach the head of the line. He forced a smile as the guard motioned with his high powered assault rifle for him to approach.

  A second guard took his press pass and scanned it through a security reader.

  He handed the pass back to West and asked, “Birth month?”

  “June,” he replied realizing he was about to get a security grilling.

  “Mother’s maiden name?”

  “Roberts.”

  “Her residence?”

  “Deceased.”

  The guard paused then typed on his laptop before continuing, “Father’s birth city?”

  “Boston.”

  The guard looked him over then glanced down at his security reader which would tell him if West had answered any of the security questions incorrectly.

  “Brother’s name?”

  “Don’t have one, unless my father needs to tell me something,” West laughed.

  “Move ahead,” The Homeland agent motioned.

  He passed through another layer of security outside the building and entered a set of rotating doors that contained high tech scanners. As a deterrent the government had gone out of its way to make sure everyone knew what would happen if someone entered any security checkpoint with a gun, bomb or any type of malicious instrument. Upon detection of anything suspicious the rotating doors sealed and the occupant was trapped inside a bombproof capsule. Once trapped inside the compartment a deadly toxin could be released depending on the risk threat perceived by Homeland Security. Other options afforded to security included incineration and implosion.

  West had no idea if the laptop would make it through undetected but he had no choice. He walked through the doors knowing if they detected the bomb he would be dead in seconds.

  He walked to the center until a robotic voice told him to halt and stand still. He heard a soft vibrating noise followed by a swoosh of air. After about twenty seconds of pure terror the doors rotated and opened. Since he was alive the laptop bomb had successfully passed the first test.

  He was herded to the next security checkpoint. A new agent looked directly into West’s eyes and held the stare. “You’re here for the Homeland Director’s press conference?”

  “Yes sir,” he tried to smile innocently.

  The guard scanned his body with an electronic wand. “OK, please proceed.”

  West walked 50 feet where he was instructed to place his briefcase on a conveyor belt. He handed his press credentials to another security guard.

  “Who is the editor in charge at your publication?” the guard asked.

  “Simon Stossel,” he answered then realized he had never given any consideration to what would happen to Simon after this was over.

  The soldier marked something on a clipboard then punched a button causing the conveyor belt to start moving. West watched as the laptop bomb went through the high tech scanning device. He felt perspiration building under his arms and a sudden desire to flee took hold of him. He had been astonishingly relaxed up to this moment but now panic was setting in.

  The briefcase cleared through the machine and before he had a chance to pass out the guard waved him through. West picked up the laptop bomb and took the elevator to the 37th floor along with two other reporters and four soldiers.

  They exited the elevator and were escorted to the conference room by the armed guards. West entered the room and took an aisle seat in the back. He had been told it didn’t matter where he sat, the bomb was powerful enough to blow everyone in the room to smithereens.

  He had made it in but now could he make it back out before the bomb went off? He had put all his faith in Sam’s plan and he hoped to god she was right.

  West looked around the room. Most of the reporters were busy scribbling notes on pads, tapping away on their computers or idly chatting to kill some time before the director came out. Warm bile began to fill his throat and he had to hold down the urge to vomit. Every single person in this room was about to die because of him.

  A few stragglers entered the room and the doors were pulled shut. The Director of Homeland Security entered the room through a side door and walked over to the podium.

  She glanced over the room quickly and began, “Good morning. Thank you for joining us today to help spread the word about a major development that is going to improve the lives of every single American. We have been working extensively with the President and government scientists to create a
national data tracking system called Personal Freedom. The program is voluntary and it is designed to help secure the United States’ status as the safest country in the world.

  I asked each of you here today, to help promote the project. In fact, you are probably the most important aspect of whether this plan will succeed or fail, and we are counting on you and your journalism skills to convince America this is in the best interest of their families and their country.”

  The Director went on to lay out the details of the government’s plan to micro-chip all Americans within the next five years. She finished her speech and opened the floor for planted questions.

  After the first question West stood up and headed for the exit.

  “Where you going?” a security guard asked.

  He feigned a sick expression. “Give me a break, I waited for the Director to finish but I’m about to puke. I’m sick as a dog. I told my editor I was sick and couldn’t attend this but he threatened to fire me if I didn’t. C’mon on man, I need to go throw up in the bathroom. You can come watch if you want or I can just puke right here.”

  The security guard looked him over then pulled off his press pass. “All right Mr. Collins. I’ll hold onto this until you come back.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled and left the room.

  Two agents were stationed outside the door and West nodded at them.

  “I’m sick, I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” he said feigning an illness.

  He walked past the elevator and headed toward the men’s room. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the agents weren’t going to follow and he turned the corner and walked past the restroom. He waited for a second and when no one appeared to be following him he picked up the pace and hurried down the hall. He had no idea when the bomb was going to detonate but he knew it could happen at any second. He had to get off the floor. Then something dawned on him. There had to be surveillance devices all over the floor. Someone had to be watching what he was doing.

  He found the elevator and pressed the button. “C’mon. C’mon,” he urged.

  He heard voices down the hall and someone called out. “Hey you, stop.”