by Mark Goodwin
Jones said, “When the supplies first dry up, you’ll still be able to buy, but the premiums will be through the roof. Your cash will mainly be for the first phase of the collapse. Cash will still be king during the first week or so. Once people figure out that the dollar has been abandoned, it will quickly be phased out. After that, there will likely be a barter stage where people won’t give up goods for anything except other goods.”
“But they’ll take gold and silver?”
Jones shook his head. “Probably not. If there aren’t any stores to buy more food, why would you give up the food you need for something that won’t keep you alive? People who have farms and the ability to produce excess milk, eggs, or meat might trade with someone for honey, fuel or candles. At that stage, gold and silver won’t do them any good.”
Everett scratched his head. “So should I be buying things to barter with, like fuel and honey?”
“The best plan is to lay low until the initial phase blows over. If you think folks are nasty and conniving now, wait till you see how they act after the crash. You should prepare well enough to avoid contact with the general public for a year or two. After the die-off, when the new global currency is established, your gold and silver will have preserved the value of your savings. It will also be the underground currency for those who want to operate outside the control of the New World Order. Everyone from drug dealers to political dissidents will use gold and silver for black market transactions. There’ll be a huge opportunity for profiteers who don’t mind working in both worlds; they’ll be able to sell products on the black market for double and triple the price in gold and silver.”
“If you want to put aside a few items to barter with during the initial stage, think about the things that no one around here will be able to produce – things a farmer might like to have and would trade for fresh eggs or milk.”
Everett though for a second. “Whiskey?”
Jones sighed. “Folks willing to give up life-sustaining food in the middle of a crash for a drink are exactly the type of people you want to avoid. They have serious addictions, and they’ll be dangerous. That being said, alcohol has a variety of medicinal uses. That’s a good reason to have a few bottles of alcohol around.
“In general, things people can’t produce around here are coffee, toilet paper, and sugar. Rice is extremely cheap to buy in massive quantities right now, and you can’t grow it in this area. It also takes very little fuel to prepare. You can cook it in a solar cooker, which means you don’t have to send up smoke signals to tell everyone in your area of operation that you’re here, and you have food.”
Everett tried to envision the world Jones was describing. It sounded nothing like the one he lived in now. It was clear that he had a lot of preparations to make. “And the catalyst to the meltdown will be blamed on China or Russia selling too many treasury bonds?”
Jones put some chewing tobacco in his mouth. “No. It will be something much worse.”
“Like what?”
“A terrorist attack or a biological threat. It could be a viral outbreak like Ebola, or it could be another 9/11. The top echelon of elites has several scenarios drawn out. When the time comes to pull the trigger, Dragon will decide on the catalyst.”
Everett still had trouble believing that a small group of men held the fate of the world in their hands. “And if it’s an outbreak, would it be a real virus or a hoax propagated by the media?”
“Oh, it will be real. There’s no shortage of weaponized viruses sitting around in DOD-controlled research centers. And the elites have the cures and the vaccines for their personal use.”
Everett thought for a few seconds. “And what do you mean by another 9/11? Would the Illuminati orchestrate a false flag attack? Or would it be something the CIA was instructed to allow to happen at the hands of an existing terrorist organization?”
Jones spit his tobacco into a plastic cup. “Could be either. Could be both. We’ve got a lot of experience with creating boogiemen.
“The CIA created Al Qaeda. Company operatives openly funded the Afghani rebels to fight against the invading Russians in the eighties. You could say it was buffoonery, or you could say it was done with malicious intent. The outcome remains the same.
“Fast forward to 9/11. The case for ISIS being created by the US government with malicious intent is much stronger, not only because of the obvious steps we took to create them, but also because of the connections of the major players in the story.”
Everett said, “I’m listening.”
“After the invasion of Iraq, everyone in the intelligence community thought the war was over. It should have been. There was some looting and low-level criminal activity, but the Iraqis could have handled that. We’d toppled Sadam’s regime and were ready to pull out.”
“Why didn’t we?” Everett asked.
“Skull and Bones member, George Bush, sent Council on Foreign Relations member, Paul Bremer, to Iraq to be the Presidential Envoy. He was given complete authority over the affairs of the country. He rejected the advice of General Tommy Franks, who’d just run a successful invasion and had a good handle on the situation. Besides that, Franks was well versed in the local politics and had a working relationship with the Iraqis.
“Bremer initiated his de-Ba’athification campaign and alienated the Sunnis from a role in the new government. That was the move that triggered a decade of insurgency fighting and radicalized the Sunni Muslims in Iraq. General Tommy Franks washed his hands of the whole affair and resigned over the quagmire created by Bremer.”
Everett said, “Maybe Bremer was just an idiot.”
Jones shook his head. “It’s unlikely. Bremer was Henry Kissinger’s chief of staff. You’ll remember that Kissinger is a member of the CFR, Trilateral Commission, and Bilderberg Group. Everything he does is a move to advance toward a one-world government.”
Everett laughed. “You make Kissinger sound like the godfather of the New World Order.”
Jones smiled. “The book he wrote in 2014 was called World Order. He doesn’t try to hide it.
“Back to the radicalized Sunnis in Iraq. Bilderberg member David Petraeus handed out over four hundred million dollars to the alienated Sunni militants, the Sons of Iraq. Years later, this group of Sunnis, battle-hardened by their insurgency fighting against US forces and funded by the US government, was given more training and more weapons to fight against the Assad regime in Syria. They later became known as the Islamic State. Today, the dividend is still paying off, as the administration and the media have the perfect boogieman to keep the American public quaking in their shoes. As long as we promise to keep them safe from ISIL, Americans will sign over their last stitch of freedom without question.”
Everett was learning more than he wanted to know. Two weeks ago, he felt like a true patriot who was serving his country. Now, he was feeling more like a member of the old East German Stasi. “Any other signs that the elites are about to pull the trigger?”
Jones nodded. “Whether it’s a false flag terrorist attack or an engineered outbreak of Ebola, I think we’ll see heavy troop and supply movements across the country. Tons of stuff is already prepositioned, but they’ll start moving boots and equipment just before the event. That’s one of the things I’m watching for in the daily briefings.”
Everett stood up. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ve got to get home now, though; I still have a long drive. Would there be a good place for me to hide some of my coins around here?”
Jones got up to see Everett to the door. “Bury them out back in the woods. Pick a tree that you won’t forget, and dig a hole. Just make sure your silver is sealed tight. It’ll tarnish if it gets any moisture around it. Not gold though. It won’t tarnish or corrode.”
Everett took the nickel that contained the SD card and stuck it back in his pocket. “Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
Jones said, “Bring that little NSA girl up here if you like. There are some nice trails around here for the two of you t
o enjoy. I’d love to meet her.”
Everett took a deep breath. He liked thinking about Courtney. “Yeah. I’m hanging out with her tomorrow night. I’ll see what she’s doing Sunday afternoon. It’s a long trip for her, though. She’s way out in South Laurel.”
Jones smiled. “Whenever is fine. If you do come, introduce me as Uncle John. She doesn’t need to know my work history just yet.”
“Okay, but don’t address her as the little NSA girl. We’re still playing the game and denying that either of us works for the intelligence community.”
CHAPTER 19
“We should move toward an international currency because the speculation and conflicts of currency has caused some of the irritations not only among the trading nations but among individuals.”
Evelyn Rothschild,2012 Bloomberg Interview.
Everett pulled into Courtney’s driveway Saturday night. He turned off the engine, walked to the door, and knocked.
Courtney answered the door. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting you so soon. Come on in; I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Everett came in and closed the door. “Oh, am I early?”
Courtney went into her room. “No, but last time you were really late. I thought maybe that was just how you rolled.”
Everett was glad she wasn’t in the room to see him blush. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
“Maybe.” Courtney walked back through the living room and into her kitchen.
Everett looked around at her furnishings and made a mental note. She keeps her stuff neat. Everett was no clean freak, but he could never be happy with a slob.
He looked at a picture of Courtney with her family. “Nice looking family. Do they live nearby?”
She came back in the room, dropped her shoes on the floor, and slipped her feet into them. “California. They couldn’t really be any farther away and still be in the same country. What about your folks?”
Everett didn’t like talking about his family. He certainly didn’t want to tell her about his stepfamilies this soon; he thought it might make him sound dysfunctional. “I was raised by wolves.”
They walked outside, and Everett opened the car door for Courtney.
She smiled at the gesture. “At least the wolves taught you good manners.”
Everett laughed. He walked around the car, got in, and started the engine.
Courtney looked over at Everett. “I’m not the type of chick who’s impressed by cars, but if I was, a BMW 550i would definitely do it.”
Everett chuckled. “Thanks . . . I guess.”
“So where are you taking me?”
“Kent Island, if that’s okay. I like out-of-the-way kind of places.”
“Why? Are you married? Is someone going to see us?”
Everett fought back a grin. “No. I just don’t like crowded environments like downtown DC. I’ve never been to this place, but it has great reviews. It’s called the Crab House. It’s right on the water; it looks really peaceful in the pictures.”
“Sounds nice. It should be fun.”
The two of them were quiet for a while, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was okay. Everett was content to be in the car with her, and she didn’t seem to be uncomfortable about the silence either.
They made small talk during the hour drive out to Kent Island. Everett thought of it as a test; if he couldn’t stand to be in the car with someone for an hour, there wasn’t much use in pursuing the matter.
They arrived at the restaurant and were seated right on the water. The cool fall air would soon bring an end to dining al fresco, but today, the weather was pleasant. They both ordered crab legs, which were excellent.
After dinner, the conversation moved to more substantive topics.
Courtney sipped her latte. “So, what did you think of the action in the markets two weeks ago?”
Everett tried to figure out her angle. At the very least, she knew about the attempted attacks from sovereign actors. After all, H and M was taking over the threats that Everett’s team had identified. “I don’t know. It seemed like bad luck for the BRICS bank. Imagine them having their server meltdown hours before they were to announce a new reserve currency.”
Courtney winked at Everett. “Yeah, imagine that.”
Everett decided to see what she’d admit to. “So, did H and M see any activity that would suggest that the meltdown was more than a coincidence?”
Courtney craftily dodged the question. “Like what?”
Everett shrugged. “Like cyber-attacks from hackers who could have been acting on behalf of the BRICS nations in retaliation for the meltdown.”
Courtney started to say something, but then didn’t. Finally, she said, “IT has a cybersecurity division. You would have surely seen something if that type of activity was occurring.”
“Actually, when we identify a threat, we outsource it to another company.”
“Who do you outsource it to?”
Everett locked his gaze on Courtney’s eyes. “H and M.”
Courtney looked down at her latte and rolled her tongue to one side of her mouth. Seconds later, she flipped her hair and looked back up at Everett. “So you’ve been toying with me for a week now. You know where I work, and now I know where you work. I’m sure you have the same confidentiality policies that we have. I trust Lisa, and I’m sure she would never set me up with an undercover agent who’s trying to get me in trouble, so I’m fairly confident that you’re all right. I have a curious streak too, and I’d be willing to talk about work, but you’re going to have to start.”
Everett took his phone out of his pocket and removed the battery. He gave Courtney a nod to do the same.
She complied. “If you don’t trust me, that’s okay. We can talk about movies or whatever you like.”
Everett sipped his espresso. “I trust you, but it’s a regular practice to run audits on intelligence personnel by remotely activating their phones, tablets, and laptops. That can’t be done to a device with no power source.”
Courtney pursed her lips as if she’d just had an epiphany. “That’s why all of the devices we’re issued at work are Apple products. Have you ever tried to take the battery out of an iPad?”
“I was a computer science major. I’m pretty good with computer hardware, but it would be a hassle, even for me.”
“Tell me what you know about the BRICS server.”
Everett contemplated what he would say. He was the one who’d pushed the issue. He could have avoided the subject for weeks, but he didn’t. Now, he’d crossed the Rubicon, and there was no going back. “I know that the US caused the meltdown.”
Courtney looked away from him. “Too shallow. That’s obvious. Who did it, and how did they do it?”
“The Company infected the system with a sleeper virus, which activated upon specific market criteria.”
Courtney looked back at him. “Now we’re being honest. I like that. As a show of good faith, and to answer your question from earlier, yes; several US banking institutions were hit with attempted hacks, which tried to launch an assault on US markets. They were designed to crash all of the major indices by mimicking market orders. If the attacks had been successful, they would have made counterfeit trades until panic selling took over and obliterated the equities markets.
“But we’re not out of the woods yet. The BRICS nations hold over two trillion in US debt. Since the cyber-attack didn’t work, they can launch outright financial warfare against the US and the dollar by dumping all US debt held among them. We have actionable intel that suggests China is already unloading some of their debt to reduce their cost in such an attack.
“Your turn.”
Everett smiled. “Good stuff. But China and Russia won’t be the ones to bring down the US economy.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“There is a cabal of major power brokers who are planning to take down the existing financial infrastructure, so they can replace it with their own system.”
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Courtney looked at Everett out of the side of her eye. “Then why aren’t the CIA and NSA working to take them down?”
“The CIA and NSA are taking orders from this group.”
Courtney sat back and tinkered with her napkin for several seconds. “You know that sounds crazy, right?”
Everett sighed. “Yep.”
“And where are you getting your information?”
Everett nodded cryptically. “From a reliable source.”
Courtney’s response dripped with sarcasm. “Well that makes me feel better.”
“Do you think I’d make something like that up?”
Courtney smiled. “No. You seem like an honest person, and I’m pretty good at . . . I’m a good judge of character. I believe you’re telling me the truth.”
“You’re a profiler?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“How does that fit in with cybersecurity?”
Courtney spun her water glass between her fingers. “If a person – not me, of course – but a person, was a profiler in cybersecurity, she’d be able to advise what type of hacker could be flipped for information or turned into an asset. A profiler might also know which individuals in a foreign intelligence service or corporation would be most vulnerable to entrapment or bribes.”
Everett found this devious side of Courtney intriguing. “So you believe that it’s at least possible that our employers might use subversive means to achieve their goals?”
Courtney smirked. “I think you’ve just defined clandestine services.”
“Then what is so farfetched about a group that acts on a completely clandestine level with its own agenda? The secret infrastructure is there for the taking. Given the shortcomings of our species proven over and over by history, it seems closer to inevitable than improbable.”
Courtney looked at her empty latte and took a drink of her water instead. “You’re shattering my paradigm.”
“I’m sorry. Do you prefer the bliss of ignorance?”
Courtney pointed at him. “I’m going to let you get away with that one. And no, but it would be nice to have a little warning.