The Snare

by David A Ogunde

  Chapter 114

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Maximos spoke into the microphone; all heads turned to the podium, as the Summit officially commenced. “Thank you all for coming. I am truly honored to host this year’s International Peace Summit, and have high hopes for what we will be able to accomplish here. As you know, this last year has been unlike any seen in our time. It began with the breakout of the Rigula virus, which was wiping out its victims left and right. We were all working together to contain it, stop it, and find a cure. I know my personally-funded labs are still working hard. The threat is not yet over. But we’ve been set back, understandably, as last week our entire world was plunged into unprecedented political, religious, and economic chaos. The future, as we had envisioned it, was wiped out in a single unforeseeable strike leaving us scared, scarred and devastated. Despite what your individual national protocols have fed to the news, despite what scientists around the world are now striving to figure out, just here amongst ourselves, I think we can confidently admit to ourselves that we have no idea what has happened and we have no idea what to do next. But ladies and gentlemen, I don’t think we have to look too far back in history to remember who we are, what humanity is. We are a species not given to defeat, but strength and adaptation. We will rebuild, restart; we will take our knowledge and values and carry them forward into a new future, one that we can build with our own two hands. This is not an ending, but a beginning. The biggest question we should be asking is not ‘What will we do now?’ but ‘How are we going to move forward?’ Will we continue in our wars? Will we hurry to throw up our borders and divert back to our selfishness and distinctness, trying to claw over our brothers to reach the top, to gain recognition? Or, will we now be able to set aside our pettiness and become one? One world, one people: Humanity.

  “I would like to announce to you tonight that in this very room is a group of delegates who have already taken the first step in laying the foundation for the kind of future we can build. Ladies and gentlemen, directly in front of me, first row from the platform, are seated the honorable and respective delegates from Israel, Iran, Syria, Saudi Arabia and Palestine. Yes, you heard me correctly—Palestine. Just before our earth was shaken by the catastrophic event of last week, these nations came together and agreed to give up their incessant conflicts which had kept this world polluted with war. An official Peace Treaty was put before them, and with no reservation, they signed the Agreement to recognize the rights of the state of Israel as well as the equal rights of the new state of Palestine. As brothers from the same family, they agreed to co-exist, to both have Jerusalem as their capital, and to move forward in kindness and cooperation together. The detrimental war which has been ravaging our world for thousands of years is now over.”

  The crowd stood to their feet, clapping loudly and strongly as if this single, unprecedented moment was the anchor they were desperate to cling to in this chaotic present and uncertain future.

  “And, to officiate this event, the President of the United Nations, Dr. Youcef Ammon, would like to say a few words.” A skinny man wearing square glasses and a neat, black comb over, suddenly made his way from a short row of chairs behind Maximos to the front of the stage.

  President Ammon held up his hands to ease the applause. “Good evening. At this momentous point in time, I feel truly honored, as the President of the United Nations, to be the first to offer an official welcome to the delegates from the newly-formed state of Palestine. I also wish to express to Palestine, Israel, and our Middle East brethren our gratitude, the world’s gratitude, for bravely choosing to embrace peace with one another. Thousands of years of turmoil and war have been put to rest. And I wish there was a phrase to more deeply describe how we feel; but, for now, ‘Thank you’ will have to do. Thank you.”

  Applause broke out again, as several of the named government officials in the front row stood and made slight acknowledging bows.

  “And,” President Ammon continued, “I feel it is important to also bring to this room’s attention the main architect of this unprecedented Peace Deal, Mr. Silas Maximos.” He turned to look at GED’s CEO sitting in the row behind the podium. “Mr. Maximos was the driving force behind this achievement. He took the initiative to finance and personally work behind the scenes with all the parties concerned. He was able to execute a plan and achieve what no other organization could. It was through GED, not solely the United Nations, that this peace effort was successful. Mr. Maximos, the world owes you a great debt of gratitude. If I may take the liberty to speak personally, I don’t know what the future holds. But if we can agree to put our trust in people like you, I believe everything will be all right.”

  The crowd expressed their agreement by rising to their feet, their ovation and hope soaring to the heights of the hall. President Ammon motioned Maximos to come forward and shook his hand vigorously. Maximos turned to the microphone, a fire in his eyes and a confident grin on his face.

  “Thank you, President Ammon. Thank you all. Your confidence is truly humbling. But the fate of the future does not belong in one set of hands. Ladies and gentlemen, we stand upon a great threshold, one which the world has been waiting for—the moment for the unveiling of the savior of the world has arrived. The Messiah of the Jews, the Jesus of the Christians, the Mahdi of the Muslims, the Fifth Buddha, the one who will finally bring peace to a world in chaos. It is not one man. It is us—humanity together as One! Join me now in righting the wrongs of our past. Join me in writing a glorious future.

  “Join me. And together we will be the salvation of this world!”

  Chapter 115

  Far to the southwest of the convened Summit, and far from any semblance of chaos, in a sturdy, reed hut resting proudly between a clear, star-filled West African sky and quiet, breeze-blown grassland, Maximos’ speech was being watched via live feed over the Internet. The audio had just been muted in disgust, leaving the room wrapped within folds of silence and darkness, penetrated only by the ghostly glow of computer screens and the fast ticking of expert hands upon keyboards. The stillness of two figures haloed in the glow of their screens was tense—their job almost complete.

  “The A.I. is going to be onto us this time.” Faaiza warned. “I think I can still break through, but we’ll have a short window. Is everything ready on your end?”

  James didn’t cease typing, as he confirmed. “The GED files we pulled from Roland’s Big Ben and the CellSens computer are ready. I’m just putting the finishing touches on our little ‘presentation’ now. Man, whoever snagged this stuff must have had direct access…”

  “The night before you came to our squat, we released a video regarding GED plots that Sar…that your wife knew about. She told us she got the info from a journalist named Frank who had been carrying around documents given to him by a GED executive, Roland Ashante.”

  James’ face turned to stone as he processed the information. He had met with Frank, and blown him off; and he had told him of Roland…he had told him everything; but James hadn’t listened. Would things have ended up differently if he had?

  “Hey, are you okay?” Faaiza was eyeing his pained face with concern.

  “Yeah. I was just thinking—”

  “Or regretting? Come on. I need you at full power here.”

  “You’re right. Sorry.” He needed to concentrate now. Once Faaiza had broken them through into the GED internal network, he would upload their “presentation” into GED’s direct media outlet hub, causing all media outputs—including TV’s computers, and projectors— within the tower to display his and Faaiza’s message. Subsequently, he would send the package of information they’d found on the Big Ben to the press, and upload the same presentation to social media and internet video avenues.

  “And this time,” Faaiza spoke half to him, half to herself, as she remembered the squatters’ first attempt to use a press storm to pressure GED. “We have a backup so Maximos can’t back out. I call it ‘Grey Goo.’” She paused her typing to
look at James meaningfully, a slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “What? You don’t mean…The virus we picked up from GED? I thought you destroyed that computer.”

  “I did, but not before I played around with it….Outside,” she added when she saw the look on James’ face. “I took the hard drive out of range of our internet so nothing else could get infected. I was able to isolate the virus code and dissect it a little. Nasty stuff. On command it can use Wi-Fi to jump to another device, and it can self-replicate, converting its host into a cesspool of electromagnetic signal-destroying virus. It would only need about two hours to eat up Maximos’ empire alive; he’d have to start the company again from the ground up.”

  “That would sure slow him down,” James agreed as he put the finishing touches on their surprise package. He could hear Faaiza’s typing cadence grow faster and faster until, suddenly, the lines of garbled code on her screen gave way to an image of a globe.

  “We’re in,” Faaiza uttered in triumph. “It’s now or never.”

  James poised his finger over the command key and spared a glance at the small wooden ark hanging from a nail above his screen; images of Sarah and Tolu brushed across his mind’s eye. He pushed them aside and grasped the moment at hand. “The nuke is ready.”

  Faaiza nodded. “Execute.”

  Chapter 116

  The sound of thunderous applause tapered out into confused murmurs as the montage of “A Future At Peace” being displayed behind Silas Maximos suddenly faltered and went blank. The next moment, a black screen with bold, white words filled the projection space behind the platform.

  Many shall be purified, and made white, and tried; but the wicked shall do wickedly: and none of the wicked shall understand; but the wise shall understand.

  Sensing the loss of attention, Maximos turned to see what had taken it. Before he turned back, several phones in the crowd began to ring, followed by a higher level of buzzing communication. With a gaze like daggers, Maximos caught Cyndi’s eye, demanding to know the situation. She shook her head and pointed wildly to her phone. The CEO pulled out his own and opened a news alert:

  PROOF: GED CREATED AND RELEASED THE RIGULA VIRUS

  He pressed another.

  PROOF: GED COMMITS GENOCIDE WITH NANO TECHNOLOGY

  Forgetting about his audience, Maximos marched off the stage and flew at the incompetent Cyndi and that idiot tech Gerald. Ivan, who had been stationed as a personal guard, stood with his arms crossed and his eyes averted from the wrathful advance.

  “What’s happening!” Silas hissed in rage. “I thought you took care of this!”

  Cyndi stared at her boss in horror while Gerald began to type furiously on his laptop.

  “The computer isn’t detecting any breaches in network security. I don’t know how this is happening!”

  “Where is it coming from?” Cyndi prompted nervously. “Can you trace the feed?”

  “I’m trying but it just keeps looping back to our system.”

  “This can’t be coming from inside our own system!” Maximos fumed. “Can’t you shut it down? Just shut everything down now!”

  “It doesn’t work like that. You can’t just flip an off switch. There are too many—”

  “What have I been paying you for?” Maximos yelled in Gerald’s face. “What have I been paying any of you for?” He reached for the laptop, intending to hurdle it against the wall, but stopped himself at the last minute, as he caught the eyes of the prophet, who was calmly making his way down a side aisle toward them. Control, the eyes said. You must regain control. Profeta then made a point of looking at the swelling, garbling crowd before nodding to the platform and then behind it to the exterior glass walls. Maximos immediately straightened up and got a hold on himself, as he remembered the perspectives of this night—what it would really be remembered in history for. He was on the edge of wielding immense power and greatness; he might as well act like it. Smoothing his hair and adjusting his suit jacket, he walked determinedly back to the podium and attempted to pacify those in uproar. Perhaps, shocked at the CEO’s audacity to continue to address them with authority, both the delegates and press representatives paused in their clamor to listen to what Maximos would say. But he had not gotten through two minutes of trying to sway them of his victimization by cyber terrorists when several pugnacious journalists leapt from their seats demanding the truth. The crowd was stoked anew as national leaders and their aides rose with loud voices and shaking fists. Maximos noticed that several heads were even leaving; it looked like that old coward of a sheik, Musa, was forcing his way out in a hurry, his phone pressed flat against his face. Silas ground his teeth and glared at the crowd. He could not calm them; and later, he decided silently, he would not spare them for their insolence. After checking his watch and noting the time, his face regained its regal repose and, as if pulling a glass wall between the chaos and himself, Maximos shut himself off from the emotions the mob had been inciting. At that moment, a hand from behind reached to his shoulder and he did not need to turn to know whose it was.

  “Prophet,” he acknowledged.

  “It’s time. Let us depart,” came the steady reply.

  *

  “I’m clear,” Sheik Musa shouted into his phone as his limo raced as fast as it could past the city blocks. “God be with you, Abdul, and reward you for your faithfulness.”

  “God be with you,” came the curt reply before the line went dead. A moment later, the sheik watched through the back window of his car, as a burst of light and fire exploded from the accursed building he had just left.

  Chapter 117

  The night sky was touched with little moonlight as James and Faaiza exited the hut and took a deep breath of the sweet, cool air. For just a moment, the world seemed as it always had been. They walked across the ancient, unchanging plains in silence, the mental rush of their task fading away and leaving them prey to the uncertainties of the immediate future.

  “What now?” Faaiza asked in the darkness, her palms sweeping over the soft tops of the wild grasses. “What’s our next move?”

  James gazed toward the seemingly endless darkness of the heavens above before fixing his eyes on a single point of starlight—the North Star. Instinctively, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the keychain ark and his small Bible.

  “We keep our eyes on the Light,” answered James, extending the Bible to his companion. “And wait for the coming of our Lord.”

  “Hallelujah,” Faaiza agreed with a strong calmness. She placed her hand gently over the book, and together they bowed their heads to pray.

  While they say, 'peace, peace' then sudden destruction looms... (The Holy Bible - NKJV)

  THE END

  About the Author

  David Ogunde worked in Chief, Dr. (Hon.) Hubert Ogunde’s Theatre Company (his father), as a frontline dancer, actor and performer for many years, where he featured in theatre performances throughout the coast of West Africa, England and other parts of the world. The troupe was the first African company to perform at the Llangollen Eisteddfod Festival in Wales in a big tent with an audience of over ten thousand people and they also featured in movies such as the Oblong Box starring Vincent Price and Christopher Lee. It represented Nigeria in performances at the Apollo Theatre, Canada and Madison Square Garden in New York. Apart from having been the Nigerian Theatre household name for over three decades, the company also produced several feature film cinema releases, and hosted and featured in the production of Mister Johnson in 1990 starring Pierce Brosnan.

  David studied at the National Film and Television School in Buckinghamshire, England and has written and published several works, produced and directed more than a dozen plays, some of which have been performed to audiences of thousands of people. David has worked with multinational companies and successfully led projects in over seventeen countries in Europe as well as the USA, Canada, Japan, China, Australia and Brazil.

  r />   David A Ogunde, The Snare