Infringement

by Benjamin Westbrook

  “Yeah, at least that’s what I used to think until these past few days. Now I’m not so sure I stopped believing as much as I just… I just…”

  “You what?”

  “I hated God. I hated Him for taking my dad from me, for stealing him from me,” Declan responded as water began to well up in his eyes. “I think what I really did was take away my love for God, my acknowledgement of His existence, in order to try and punish Him for what I felt he’d done to me.”

  “That’s an understandable response.”

  “I suppose. It’s at least a human response, but I’m beginning to think it was the wrong response and definitely not what my dad would have wanted for me.”

  “That’s probably true, based on what I know of your dad.”

  “Anyway, the passage I just read, from Ephesians, the one that brought dad to mind, was basically about how you’re sealed with the Holy Spirit from the first second you believe. It made me begin to think, if that’s true, then all this time, through all my anger and hatred toward God, if I really did believe in His son, His spirit would have still been in me.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “It’s just hard to fathom, that’s all. It’s hard to grasp a God who still loves us when we hate Him or refuse to acknowledge Him altogether.”

  “That’s what I’ve always been told He does though, amazing as it seems.”

  “It really is amazing. What do you think of all this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “About God and the Bible and everything. Do you believe it?”

  “Yeah, I believe it. Things were always pretty simple with my family. We went to church, we said prayers, mostly at meals and when things didn’t go well, and we quietly believed in Jesus as the only way to heaven. The basic run of the mill Christian life, I suppose.”

  “Have you read the Bible?”

  “Never from cover to cover and probably not in ages, but I still believe it. It’s just something that’s in me I suppose.”

  “Do you remember when you were saved?”

  “I sure do. It was at our church when I was eighteen. Our pastor had just finished his sermon, which was on the parable of the mustard seed, and I think, for the first time, I really understood what it was all about, why I needed to be saved and why that could only happen through Jesus. So, I said the prayer we had been taught in Sunday school, you know, admitting my sins, telling Jesus I believed in him and loved him, and asking him to save me. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was super-excited and wanted to do all these things, to go out and volunteer in church stuff, feed the poor, all that stuff. The enthusiasm lasted for three or four months, then wore off as I got into college and the various demands and distractions of campus life. Sometimes I feel like I should be doing something more, but for the most part, I’m happy and I know I’m going to heaven. I guess I don’t need much more than that.”

  “You know, it’s funny, but I think in all the time we’ve known each other, all the time we’ve been together, this is the first time we’ve ever talked about this.”

  “I think you’re right. We must be growing up, Declan Parker,” Megan said with a smile and kissed Declan on the lips.

  “We must be.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot why I came out here in the first place. In light of Dr. Mendoza’s report on your progress, I thought we could go up to Cusco for lunch and a very low key look around town in the next couple days. As gorgeous as it is here, I think a change of scenery would do both of us some good.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements.”

  Chapter 49

  Louis flipped through his outline one final time to verify each point he’d wanted to make had been included in his article. After a final read through, Louis was satisfied that he’d carefully and convincingly laid out all the salient points and facts with respect to Declan’s innocence in the David Stanton affair, which conflict with the story being carried by all the mainstream media outlets. He read over the closing lines for the tenth time,

  “As evidenced by the classified Homeland Security documents I’ve obtained, if just one thing from the David Stanton debacle is clear, it is Special Agent Declan Parker’s innocence. In trying to do what we, the taxpayers, pay him to do, Special Agent Parker stumbled into a web of federal government corruption and manipulation targeted, like so many others we’ve seen these past years, at the systemic and total elimination of our civil rights. For the crime of doing his job and fulfilling his duty, Declan Parker was the victim of two attempted murders and now, slander of the worst variety. Don’t be fooled, this government and its media stooges are lying to you, each and every day. Investigate every word that spills from their mouths, because THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM.”

  Louis converted the Word document for web release and uploaded the article, along with copies of the relevant internal Homeland documents and hospital records Megan had given him. He published the article on The Free Voice website, along with a link to the documents.

  “Well done you,” Louis said to himself. “And just in time.”

  He grabbed his desert-beige military surplus backpack, stuffed in his laptop, along with the clothes and other items already inside, and headed out of his hotel room to the lobby, where he found an IDF Samal, or Sergeant, Ariel Ya’alon waiting.

  “Sergeant Ya’alon?”

  “Yes, Mr. Martino?”

  “Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Do you have your paperwork?”

  “I do,” Louis replied, pulling out the letter of introduction provided to him by his friend, Adam Benjamin, a former college roommate who was on the Prime Minister’s staff.”

  Sgt. Ya’alon read over the letter carefully. “So, you’re to be imbedded with my unit for the next five days.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Well, it looks like everything is in order. Are you ready?”

  “Absolutely. Thank you again for picking me up.”

  “Not a problem, Mr. Martino. I’ll take you to meet up with the rest of the unit and we’ll head out.”

  “To the Golan Heights, correct?”

  “That’s correct.”

  _______________________

  Evan sat up in the cot, which in spite of its Spartan comfort was worlds beyond the hard cold floor in his prior holding cell, as he saw Kevin Cameron stepping in.

  “How do you like the new accommodations, Dr. Parker?”

  “A definite improvement,” Evan replied.

  “Good. You’re looking a bit better.”

  “A case of looks being deceptive, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, regardless, we’ll be transferring you to another facility shortly.”

  “Am I being charged with anything?”

  “I believe Special Agent Bleeker already explained your circumstances and the authority under which you’re being held.”

  “Of course, the NDAA.”

  “Don’t be a smartass,” Kevin suddenly said raising his voice. He rushed toward Evan and shoved him back down into the cot, with his forearm against Evan’s chest. Getting his face as close to Evan’s as possible, almost uncomfortably so, Kevin leaned over him and whispered, “Your family is okay,” then Kevin put his index finger up to his mouth to say, “Shhh.” Evan looked up at him somewhat stunned, but remained silent.

  Kevin quickly whispered again, “I know where they are and they’re safe. I can’t say more now, but you’ll have to trust me.”

  Evan whispered, “Who are you?”

  “A friend,” Kevin replied softly, then jerked Evan up from the cot and said threateningly, “I don’t like smartasses, understood. Any more comments like that and you’ll be back where you started. Open 8!”

  Chapter 50

  Declan couldn’t pull his eyes from the quaint, narrow, colonial streets of old town Cusco. It was a town unlike anything he’d ever seen, something akin to living, breathing history.
<
br />   “This is amazing,” he said to Megan.

  “I know. There’s nothing like this in the States. Do you see the stone work on the base of the buildings?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s Incan. When the Spanish came, they essentially built on top of the Incan foundations. They built right over important Incan religious and government buildings. The Church of Santo Domingo is literally built on top of Qorikancha, the Inca Temple of the Sun.”

  “It’s all incredible.”

  “Wait until you see where we’re having lunch.”

  The ride lasted a few more minutes as the car bobbled and jostled up the ancient, narrow stone streets, until it came to a stop in a small square surrounded by Spanish hacienda-style buildings, all built on top of superbly crafted Inca stone-worked foundations.

  A young Peruvian man in a dark suit came out to open the car door, umbrella in hand. “Buenos Dias. Welcome to the Monasterio.”

  “Gracias,” Megan replied. She and Declan walked inside the warm and ornate Hotel Monasterio. “This place was an old Spanish monastery. It was originally built in the 1500’s or something and then rebuilt again after an earthquake in the mid-1600’s.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  They walked slowly through the baroque-inspired lobby to the restaurant. One of the hosts approached and led them to a table looking out onto the drizzly serene courtyard in the center of the hotel. Declan sat down and stared up at a huge tree standing in the midst of the courtyard.

  “That’s the only remaining Andean Cedar tree in Cusco,” Megan said to him.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep. They were all over this area, but when the Spanish came, they cut them down for building. That’s the last one and it’s over 300 years old. The Andean Cedar was a sacred tree to the Incas. The locals say this one keeps the memory of those times alive with its scent.”

  “It’s beautiful. I can only imagine what this place looked like when they were everywhere. It must have been stunning.”

  “That’s what I’ve always been told. After lunch we’ll walk over to the little chapel, San Antonio Abad. It’s just right over there, across the courtyard. It’s a really impressive Cusco Baroque chapel.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “How are you feeling? This isn’t too much too soon, is it?”

  “No, not at all. I actually feel pretty good. It’s nice to get a little change of scenery and get out with you. We haven’t done anything like this in a while.”

  “It is nice.”

  The waiter brought two bottled waters and two cups of coca tea to the table, along with a three or four page printout of various news articles from the United States. “I’ll be right back with your salads.”

  “Gracias,” Declan responded.

  Megan looked over the news articles. “Oh my God, they’ve declared martial law in the States.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what this says. The initial protests have turned into all out riots and the government implemented martial law trying to keep the peace.”

  “I don’t believe it. That’s insane.”

  “This says they’ve established nationwide curfews. There’s widespread looting. The stock market dropped by nearly 20% in the past two days and there are all kinds of food and fuel shortages across the country.”

  Declan sat in silent shock as Megan continued reading, thinking about all the times he’d heard his mom and Evan talk about the degenerating freedoms in the U.S. and how martial law would probably be put into place someday. Megan continued, “This says the dollar appears to be falling and prices on everything are skyrocketing, to the extent basic necessities are even available.”

  “This is crazy,” Declan replied soberly. “This kind of stuff happens in other countries, but not in the U.S. It’s a total disaster.”

  “I agree. It’s surreal.”

  “I mean, why do we even bother to have a constitution if the government isn’t going to follow it?”

  “Some would say we stopped following the constitution a long time ago.”

  Declan’s eyes began to well up at the thought of riots and martial law back home. It had just never seemed possible. “Can I see that?”

  Megan handed him the paper and Declan read over the entire article, still unable to believe the scenes described. Nearly sick to his stomach, he tossed the paper back down onto the table in disgust and said, “The government is killing and imprisoning its own citizens for expressing their constitutional rights. We’re done. We may as well be the Soviet Union or Nazi Germany.”

  “I just hope everyone back home is okay,” Megan responded.

  “Have you heard anything from anyone back home? I hope my mom, Evan, Michelle and the kids are all alright. I’ve had this sinking feeling lately that something is wrong.”

  “I haven’t heard anything, but I’ll ask Uncle Ignacio if my mom has called him when we get back. Truthfully, I have a Homeland program on my personal laptop that should allow me to check email without anyone being able to trace my location. It’s a pretty sophisticated scrambler, but I’ve been reluctant to try it yet. I suppose I should check to see. I had no idea things were that out of control.”

  “Neither did I.”

  Megan turned the page and came face to face with a small photo of Declan’s Academy graduation photo on the next page, which didn’t much resemble his worn, unshaven, scraggy post-shooting look. “Umm…”

  “What’s wrong now?”

  “Look at this.”

  Declan took the paper and saw his photo, then read the article below. The soberness and sadness in his eyes turned to outright shock and anger. “They’re saying I was helping Stanton, that I deleted investigative records and records of his ammunition purchases. This says I manipulated Bureau and Homeland data files to try and keep his activities under the radar and was at the church on Christmas Eve to set off more explosive charges and, likely, fire on any first responders. I’m wanted in the States.”

  “We’d better go. I don’t want to take a chance with someone recognizing you.”

  Declan stared at the photo of himself, the bright eyed and optimistic new FBI Agent. The image of himself on the paper looked nothing like he felt. “Sadly, this picture doesn’t look much like me anymore, even though it was only a year or so ago.”

  “I don’t care. Go back out to the car and take that with you. I’ll pay the bill.”

  “Do you think Louis’ story has run yet? Maybe that will offset this somewhat.”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll get on The Free Voice when we get home and check. Even if it has, I doubt it will matter much. These days, perception is reality and most people’s perception is supplied by the big media outlets. We’ll see.”

  Chapter 51

  Kevin waited until it had been dark for an hour or so, then slowly approached the lake house, careful to continually check behind him to make sure no one had followed him. As he walked around a small bend in the frozen gravel road, the lights in the lake house windows finally came into view.

  Kevin took his time and tried to make some noise as he walked along the gravel in the hope that Michelle or someone inside would hear him and he wouldn’t catch them completely off guard. As he neared the front porch, he could hear movement inside and the sound of a woman trying to “shhh” small children. Not wanting to scare Michelle, he called out from the porch, “Mrs. Parker, it’s Kevin Cameron, Declan’s friend.”

  A few seconds passed and the front door opened ever so slightly. Then, after having recognized Kevin, Michelle opened the door and said, “Please, come in.”

  Evan’s mom came into the small living room from the kitchen, where Kevin could hear the children. “This is my mother-in-law,” Michelle explained.

  “Thank you. I won’t stay long.”

  “No, please, stay as long as you like,” Michelle replied as her eyes began to well up with tears. “You said you knew something about Evan and we haven’t heard from or
spoken to anyone in a long time. Is Evan okay?”

  “He’s alive and he’s getting better.”

  “Better? What happened to him?”

  “Please, just calm down and I’ll explain. At the moment, your husband is okay. He’s in federal custody…”

  “What? Why?”

  A frantic look came across Michelle’s face and Mrs. Parker walked over and put her hand on Michelle’s trembling shoulder.

  “He was picked up for helping Declan escape from the hospital. I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but Declan’s wanted in connection with the David Stanton case.”

  “That’s all a lie,” Declan’s mom replied sharply. “He had nothing to do with that.”

  “I know that. It’s a sham story manufactured to discredit him because he’s one of the few who knows the truth. The real reason Dr. Parker was picked up, and is being held, is because the powers that be were hoping he had information about where Declan is hiding out. That’s why I was assigned to watch you.”

  “How’d you know we were here?”

  “I followed you from your house the night you left town. The night your husband helped get Declan and Megan Neary out of the hospital.”

  Declan’s mom asked, “So Declan and Megan are together?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Are they safe?”

  “I have no idea, but I suspect they are. Obviously, you haven’t heard from them?”

  “Not a word. We haven’t heard anything from anyone since Evan called that night. We don’t have any phones, computers, or any way to communicate with anyone up here. All we have is a radio, which gives us news about all the craziness going on out there.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Kevin replied. “It’s probably the only reason you’re still safe up here.”

  “What should we do? Can I see Evan?”

  “No, not yet. I’m trying to come up with a way to get him out and get him, and all of you, safely out of the country. I’d better go, but I’ll be back in touch. Stay here and don’t venture out unless you absolutely need to. Martial law has been declared and there are curfews. How are you on food and water?”