by Justin Price
He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into the quiet oval office. This place had become home to him during the last five years. His first term consisted of making several tough decisions on the war that had raged for years. Finally, it had ended and he ran for a second term on the prospect of joining the World Council to establish worldwide peace, prosperity, and progress. By this time, the vast majority of voters wanted this to happen as nationalism had largely become an ideal of the past. It was a relic of disunity, disharmony, and conflict.
As he walked to his desk, Liam was receiving a call from Assad. He said, "Answer call" and a large projection filled the middle of the room. The President plopped into his chair and Assad said "greetings my friend".
"Hello Samyaza. I hope your flight back to Syria was good."
"Yes. Very good sir."
"Great. So, what can I do for you?"
"Mr. President, the World Council is working diligently to enforce unity and progression in our respective countries. As you know, we are dedicated to keeping all religion out of the public square. It is like a plague and we must treat it as such. We have feet on the ground now planting microscopic chips into the environment that can pick up and record sound from up to five miles away. They are beginning with the larger metropolitan areas and they will be expanding to rural areas as well in the coming weeks. I would like your intelligence agencies to work to monitor and enforce the laws in your country. These chips will pick up on such words or names as Allah, Buddha, Krishna, God, or Je..."
Assad began to choke a little bit as his throat constricted. He continued, "Christ. Any mention of religion in households or businesses will go to the central computer in New York as well as your agencies there in Washington, D.C. We need to stay on top of this issue. We have made so much progress and we do not need it ruined by a few zealots. If anyone is arrested, after a short investigation, they will be incarcerated at one of the prison camps."
"Understood sir. We will be glad to assist in the matter."
"Wonderful. I am glad that I can count on you Mr. Cain. If you have any questions or concerns, I will be available to you. I look forward to seeing you at the next council meeting this coming week. We have arranged to have all the dignitaries flown to Damascus where we have a demonstration of some new technology scheduled. I think that you will find it very fascinating."
Abbie was in better spirits by the time her and Jenna got back to their small apartment on the east side of Nashville. They flipped on the light and entered. Abbie went directly to the fridge and grabbed a flavored beer.
"You want one Jenna?"
"Sure, toss me one."
She tossed the bottle to her from behind the counter as Jenna laid back in the recliner.
"Well, Abbie, how much did we make tonight?"
"Hmmm... Around one hundred dollars."
"Not bad, that should take care of the energy bill this month."
"Yea, it's been a couple years, and I still can't get used to not counting dollars. It sure beats the heck out of that though. Those weren't worth a whole lot anymore."
"Yea, no kidding. The economy has gotten so much better since everyone started sharing their resources instead of using them to hold on to power."
"Now, if we could only get a record deal so we could really reap the benefits of It.", Abbie said with a broad smile.
"It's coming," she said with calm certainty. "We are too good and we have worked too hard not to get one. Anyway, we don't have a show tomorrow night, but there is this really cool party going on downtown that will be benefiting victims of the tornado that went through Clarksville last month. I think we should go. What do you think?
Abbie looked at her with a mischievous smirk. "Will there be booze and boys?"
"You can count on it chickie."
"Okay... I'm in!"
"Joanna, did you call the prison and see if Uncle Fernando can receive visitors today?"
"Yes, we are good to go. Let's get Ryan ready and eat some breakfast and we will head out there to see him."
"Great," Noah said. It has been far too long since we've seen him and I have been wanting to talk to him given the circumstances of Ryan's dreams."
"Listen Noah," she said sternly. "We need to be careful about what we say. There are eyes and ears everywhere. Especially in the prison camp. The last thing we need is for one of us to end up in there or for them to take our boy away from us."
"I know. It's just ridiculous to me that people are treated as criminals based on what they believe. Uncle Fernando wouldn't hurt a fly and he has been sitting in the place for the last six months."
"Yes," Joanna said. "But you need to understand where the government is coming from. We have seen what organized religion has done in our lifetime and in history. They don't have time to evaluate everyone on a case by case basis and as long as you are silent about it, you will be okay."
"Why should anyone with sincere beliefs be silent?” said Noah. "That is wrong and it should never be that way."
"I'm not saying that it isn't wrong. I am just saying that is the reality of the world we live in today and it is the tradeoff that we have gotten for peace and prosperity."
"Well, what if our little search for the truth leads us to a belief in a god or even a specific religion? Then what will we do?"
"We can cross that bridge when we get there honey.” said Joanna. "Whatever we decide, we will cross over together just like we always have."
Noah smiled as he pulled his wife to him. They embraced and held each other tight. "I will make sure that you guys are protected no matter what."
John had heard the gunshot, but he was still standing and couldn't feel any pain. He looked down as his shirt, expecting to see blood. There wasn't anything. He looked up in time to see the stranger lower his weapon and walk toward him.
"You were being followed. I couldn't risk anyone discovering this place."
John looked behind him to see a bald head with a bullet hole in it with fresh blood flowing from the wound. Immediately, his PTSD kicked in and he disarmed the stranger and put him on the ground in one very quick motion.
"Who are you?” he shouted.
"Calm down. You need to lower your voice. There is another one close by. We can't risk being followed."
John's heart was racing as his eyes were trying to adjust to the man's face. With teeth clinched together, he demanded more quietly, "tell me who you are or your fate will be the same as his."
They both glanced over at the dead agent with hollow eyes staring back at them. "Alright alright...I am part of an underground society that has gone into hiding. We believe that the government is up to no good and we are not going to be here when it all hits the fan. You get me?"
John relaxed his grip and said, "What are you doing in the slum?"
"This area was abandoned years ago when the rebuilding began. We have used this building as one of our entrances to the series of underground tunnels that are here from when subway trains were used for transportation."
"Alright. I will buy your story for now. We need to get out of here, because you just killed a federal agent."
"I couldn't agree more sir. May I ask you what your name is?"
"The name is John... John Robertson."
"You mean THE John Robertson?"
"I don't know of any others."
"I am so pleased to meet you and it's good to see that you are in one piece. The media had confirmed you missing, but presumed dead. How did you make it back?"
"Let's get somewhere safe and I'll tell you all about it."
Both of the men jumped to their feet as John followed the hooded stranger behind the bar. He looked both ways and slid his finger under what appeared to be a couple of old floor boards. A small trap door about two feet wide opened slowly with an echoing creak. Both men kneeled there completely frozen listening for the footsteps of the other agent that were sure to be near.
After about ten seconds, they both breathed a sigh of relief as th
ey scaled the small ladder that led twenty feet down into the tunnel system. As they took their last step and turned around, they faced a large steel door with a very old fashioned lock on it.
"How did you get this down here unnoticed?” John asked.
"We didn't. But, some of our ancestors did. Did you ever hear of that era back in the 1920's called prohibition? The government was trying to outlaw the sale of alcohol. Well, several pubs such as this one, who made most of their money off the sale of alcohol had to find a way to stay in business. So, they created secret doors with alcohol stored for use in case someone came in who was thirsty enough to fork over the money."
"In all of the excitement, I didn't get your name," said John.
"Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me." The stranger extended his hand to him. "My name is David O'Reilly. I am pleased to meet you."
"Nice to meet you David and thank you for saving my life back there."
"It's what we do brother." David raised his shirt sleeve to reveal a Navy Seal tattoo.
"Where were you stationed?” said John.
"I was stationed in Italy. We helped dismantle the Roman Catholic Church and anyone who held to that tradition in that country. It's not something I am so proud of now, but it is what it is. You can't change your past, you can only look forward to the future."
After opening the large metal door, it slammed behind them and they entered a narrower tunnel that had to be dug out to connect the old cellar to the subway tunnels. As they walked, John noticed that the ceiling and walls had been welded with metal. By the time they got to the second opening, he guessed it was about one mile. An armed guard stood in front of a makeshift metal door that looked like it had been welded together out of very thick steel.
David and John stood in front of the door as the large man who was over six and a half feet tall and weighed over three-hundred pounds of pure muscle looked at them with a smile on his face. "I'm glad you're back David. Who did you bring with you?"
"Michael, this is John Robertson. He is a former navy seal. He had the most kills during WW3. He has been evading authorities since returning."
"It's good to meet you sir. I thought you were dead."
"Yea, that seems to be going around these days. I couldn't be any worse off if I was."
"Well sir, you can rest now. The only way in and out of this place now is through me and two steel doors. There ain't nobody gonna get you."
He turned and opened the huge steel door and they saw the large lobby that led into the subway tunnel system. There must have been over a hundred people in there. John looked in amazement as several eyes looked back at him with curiosity. Whatever they had going on underground was huge.
John turned to David and asked, "Why are you all here?"
He said, "We are those that have been called out for God’s work."
Maggie arrived home and put her bag down by the front door. The house was so quiet and lonely since John had been gone. She hadn't seen her husband in a year and the certainty of knowing that he would never be coming back was often hard to cope with. The house had been so full of love and laughter for the young couple, now it felt more like a tomb to memories of yesterday. Some days, it still felt like he should still be walking through the front door with a big smile on his face.
She hated being in this house alone now and she really liked the fact that she had been hired by the WCN to serve on their airlines. In fact, it was the media attention to John's death that had influenced the decision to be called up from her job at American Airlines. In a weird way, the last gift that John was able to give her in death was days away from the cold, empty house as she flew back and forth with world leaders.
This job had been such a great gift as it helped to get her mind off of the loss of her husband. After her conversation with Assad the day before, she just couldn't help but let her mind drift back to happier days. She had met John while he was in basic training in Atlanta. They hit it off really quick and soon started dating. After he got out of basic training, he was to be stationed in Norfolk, Virginia.
She had been working as a flight attendant and wanted to keep her job. She really loved what she did for a living, but she loved him even more. She had made the decision to move to Norfolk with him. As they were making final preparations to move, she found a job opening nearby so she could transfer and keep her job. It all seemed to just fall in place perfectly, like it was meant to be. They lived very happily together for about two years in Virginia until the war escalated.
John had been deployed as part of a specialized team that would go into Iran to do recovery, rescue, and hunt down extreme Muslim terrorists. She remembered crying the day he left. She had taken the week off before he left to spend as much time with him as she could. When they day finally came, she was heartbroken. It was going to be a six month tour with a possible three month extension depending on the situation on the ground.
Maggie just couldn't imagine being away from him for that long. She never would have thought that she would be a widow at the age of twenty five. As her mind drifted back to the reality that she lived in daily, she heard a loud knock at the door. She jumped up off of the chair like something had bit her and headed toward the door.
She pressed the button on the door, which revealed a full-length screen on the door. There were two men standing there in black gear with guns on their sides and badges on their chests. What could the police want?
She decided to open the door and let them in. As the door opened, they looked at her and asked, "Mrs. Maggie Robertson?"
"Yes, that's me," she said with concern.
"We need you to come with us."
"Why would I need to do that? Is everything okay?"
"We can't answer any questions right now mam. We just ask for now that you cooperate with us. We really don't want to make a scene."
Each officer took an arm and led her out to an armored military style vehicle. It was unmarked, so she couldn't tell who she was even going with. She just had a very unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like uncertainty and this was certainly one of those times when she wanted to know more than they were telling her.
They got into the back of the vehicle and shut the doors. The men pulled out a blindfold and wrapped it around her head. They also pulled out a couple of ear plugs to inhibit her ability to hear what they were saying or where they were going. Her heart started racing as this felt more like a kidnapping than anything else. Why wouldn't they want her to know where they were going?
She started to scream and fight them. She needed to get someone's attention so if she was being abducted, they would at least have a start on who to look for. As the ear plugs went in, all she could hear was the muffled sound of her own screams. She felt a needle pierce her neck and she suddenly became very relaxed as she slipped out of consciousness.
CHAPTER 4
"Mom, are we there yet?"
"Son, we have been in the car for ten minutes. We only have another ten minutes to go. Traffic is a little more congested so auto drive is only doing 70 miles per hour."
"Okay. I wish cars could really fly."
"That would be too awesome!” Noah said.
The interstate looked like a smoothly flowing river of metal as vehicles floated above the magnetized road during rush hour traffic. They were leaving Los Angeles and headed to the prison camp outside of town.
Within minutes, they arrived and got out of the car. They stood looking at its huge fences that towered twenty feet high and had barbed wire wrapped all the way around the top. As they walked toward the entrance, an armed guard stood there with an electronic device to record their names and time of arrival.
"Who are you seeing today?” the guard asked Noah.
"We are seeing Fernando Vasquez."
"Alright, you have fifteen minutes. Go through these gates and another guard will escort you to the visiting area."
"Thank you sir.” he said as the other guard patted them all down and t
hey walked through the metal detector.
They walked through a lobby where several guards stood. One of them stepped forward and said, "Come with me". They were led down a long corridor and into a room with tables and red lasers running from top to bottom in the middle of it.
The guard said, "Don't touch these lasers. These are meant to separate you from the inmate for your safety. If you touch them, you will be badly burned and it will set off an alarm outside and the visit will be over. Is this understood?"
"Yes sir", they said as they nodded.
He spoke into the small microphone on his sleeve and said, "Alright, send inmate number 301586 to the visiting area. He has family here to see him."
The door on the opposite side of the room opened and Uncle Fernando was escorted in and sat down at the table.
"You have fifteen minutes. We will be outside if we are needed."
"Thank you", Fernando said.
"Hi, Uncle Fernando! I am so glad to see you!” said Ryan.
"Hey buddy! You are getting bigger every time I see you!"
"I know.” Ryan said smiling. "The doctor said I will be just as tall as dad someday!"
"Well, I don't doubt it."
"How are they treating you in here?” said Noah.
"Oh, not too bad I suppose. It's prison. At least most of the inmates here are like minded. It makes for a more pleasant experience to have fellow believers with you."
"I imagine so. There is something we actually wanted to talk to you about today."
"Okay", said Fernando. "You can ask me anything. I'll do my best to answer it."
"Ryan has been having dreams for a long time now. We have held off for quite some time in coming to you with this because we know that we have to be careful about matters of faith."