“What is it that you want?” She spoke in a cultured voice. It was strained with nervousness.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” the SWAT leader replied. His mission was to capture the suspected perpetrators.
“But, we have done nothing,” Mitzi wailed.
“Frisk them,” the leader said roughly.
Two men quickly moved behind the counter and quickly searched the two terrified old people.
“They’re clean,” one of the men said.
“You can put your hands down now,” the SWAT leader ordered showing some sympathy for the old people.
“Now what?” Sol was decidedly hostile. “Have you come to steal our books?”
“Now we wait,” The leader responded.
***
After a few minutes, six men dressed in suits entered the store front. They leisurely walked to the back counter.
“You can go now,” one said to the SWAT leader.
“Back to the trucks,” the SWAT leader ordered without hesitation.
“Leave the headgear cameras,” the agent said. “We have many people watching and they need to see and hear what is going on as we interrogate the prisoners.” The headgear cameras were transferred to the heads of two of the agents. The SWAT team then retreated, their job was done.
“Gestapo,” the old man croaked as he pointed a crooked finger at the suited men. He had fire in his eyes. “I recognize your kind.”
“Actually we are from Homeland Security,” the man in charge fired back. “We need to talk to you and maybe arrest you,” he said using a friendly tone.
“What are the charges?” Sol demanded. “I know my rights. You have to have a charge to arrest us,” Sol blustered.
“You are being arrested on charges of domestic terrorism. Because of the Patriot Act, you have no rights.”
“In Germany, we called them the Nuremburg Laws. It was the same thing,” the old man retorted with bitterness.
The Homeland Security agent looked him straight in the eye. “So you’ve been arrested before on terrorist charges?”
“Only for being a Jew,” Sol spat out. He then pulled up his sleeve and displayed a numbered tattoo. “That’s from Auschwitz,” he screamed as a little bit of saliva drooled from his mouth. “They said I was a terrorist too.”
Banyon suddenly understood why these people were used to order the books. Once the media became aware of this arrest, the Jews would be accused of killing Aryans. Hatred of all Jews would rise and many Aryan types would become enraged. This is a well thought out campaign, he thought.
“Begin the search,” the agent said to his men. They immediately started opening drawers and tapping walls for hidden panels.
“What are you looking for?” Mitzi asked in a near hysterical voice.
“Evidence that you are part of a terrorist cell which is killing many people,” the agent confidently replied.
“But we are pacifists. We haven’t killed anyone,” Mitzi screamed and flapped her arms frantically.
“We have evidence to the contrary,” the Homeland Security agent responded sarcastically.
“What evidence?” She managed to ask despite the buildup of large tears in her now puffy eyes.
“Doesn’t matter, Mitzi,” Sol sputtered. “They accused my father of the same thing back in Germany. They couldn’t find any evidence then either,” Sol told her. “But we still wound up in a concentration camp.”
The agent stared at the old people for a second. “We have sworn statements that Mitzi here was buying books on the internet. The books were used in killing inmates in several prisons. They were all Aryans types, the kind that hates Jews.”
“Oh, my Lord,” Mitzi gasped and put her hands to her throat. She looked like she would faint any second. “It’s true. I have been buying books for inmates.”
“And you have been buying them through a computer that is completely anonymous so we wouldn’t find you,” the agent continued. “But we found you,” he said.
“I can explain that,” she quickly replied. “You’ve got this all wrong.”
“Please explain then.”
Feeling slightly more comfortable, Mitzi said. “Sol doesn’t believe in computers. We don’t own one. He thinks that too much information is available for someone to use against the people. You can understand why he wants to remain anonymous and out of sight.”
“Especially from the government,” Sol spat out.
“Quiet Sol,” Mitzi reprimanded him. “I am a graduate of Northwestern University. I have a degree in literature. As a result, I can use the computer lab there. I go a couple of times a week and place orders for books that we need in the store.”
“Why use that particular machine? There are well over a hundred machines in the lab,” the agent pointed out.
“I always use the same machine. I’m a creature of habit.”
“Why order books for inmates in a prison cell in Nevada then?”
“Give me a second,” she begged and held up her hands. “I have complete records in my files.”
“She’s a pack rat,” Sol agreed as he nodded his head.
Mitzi turned and opened a draw in a file cabinet behind her. She began rummaging through the contents. Eventually she withdrew a large folder and placed it on the countertop. Some agents moved closer to examine the contents.
“I thought I was being a good samaritan,” she offered as an excuse. “I have all the materials right here. I even kept the envelope.”
“So, what is all this?” The agent spread his arms indicating the materials on the countertop.
“I received an anonymous letter two weeks ago,” Mitzi explained. “You can see the date stamp on the envelope. The letter said it was from someone who wanted to get books into the hands of inmates so they would become more educated and learn to love reading. The letter explained that they didn’t want to be identified so they were using book store owners to send the books. They included American Express prepaid credit cards to use to buy and ship the books. A list of the inmates and addresses to send the books was included. It further stated to use local FedEx to ship them. All I had to do was order the books, have them delivered here, put them in a FedEx envelope and drop them in a local FedEx box.”
“Why would you do that?” The agent asked curiously. “Didn’t you think the request might be a scam or something worse?”
“There was a prepaid American Express card for me in the envelope too. It was for one thousand dollars which I have already spent. But I’ve kept all the cards if you need to see them,” she admitted.
“These books were signed by the author and had his thumb print on the book. How do you explain that?”
“Look, look right here. They supplied me with his signature. I just had to copy it on to the books. And here is a piece of tape with his fingerprint on it. I just had to press it on the book,” Mitzi explained.
“And you didn’t think that doing that might be illegal? Copying someone’s name is illegal,” The agent said in a huff.
“Who did it hurt? Besides, we needed the thousand dollars,” Mitzi countered angrily. “I actually thought I was doing some good for the inmates by getting them a signed book.”
“But, you have no idea who sent you the package, right?” The agent asked as he was beginning to get the feeling that this lead was a dead end.
“None at all.”
“Well,” the agent said. “We are taking you both into custody while we check out the evidence. I’ll leave some agents to protect your store.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“W
e may have a lead from this,” Banyon suddenly blurted out. The screen had gone blank and the team sat in silence as they thought about the useless takedown.
“It looks like a total bust to me,” Loni said with frustration. “Whoever is doing this is very clever and wants Jews to get part of the blame.”
“I totally agree,” Banyon said. “But the credit cards might be a lead.”
<
br /> “How so?” Steve quickly asked.
“American Express cards have individual identification numbers on the back. The company should be able to tell us when the cards were bought and what store as well,” Banyon informed everyone.
“And, if we get lucky,” Steve continued Banyon’s thought. “The cards may have been bought from a retailer that has security cameras at the checkout. We could at least identify who bought the credit cards.”
“I’d better call Marlene and make sure she checks the cards,” Bart offered.
“What should we be doing in the meantime,” Loni inquired.
“You guys watch the video of the ACLU news conference,” Bart replied. “Maybe there will be another lead there.”
“Bart, make sure Marlene is doing facial recognition on all the people who were in the audience for the ACLU news conference too,” Banyon called out. “Many times a killer is found lurking around a crime scene. The news conference may not be an actual crime scene, but I’m pretty sure they will be attracted.”
“It might even be the same person that bought the credit cards,” Loni added.
Before Banyon could tell the IT guy to put the news conference on the big screen, his encrypted cell phone rang.
“It’s the President,” he exclaimed as he looked at the caller ID.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“C
olt, have you made any progress yet?” The President asked in an aggressive, concerned voice. He had dispensed with any cordial greeting. Banyon could tell something had prompted the call.
“What’s happened?” Banyon inquired as bile built in his stomach. The President only called him directly when it was urgent.
“I just received an email letter from some hate group called ‘The Brand’,” the big man responded “It contains some sizable threats to America. We think the letter is legitimate. We need your help.”
“The Brand is another name for the Aryan Brotherhood gang,” Banyon replied. But Banyon already suspected the letter was sent from someone else who was using the prison gang as cover.
“I know that already,” the President blustered. “The Aryan Brotherhood is a well-organized gang of white supremacists who control most of the crimes in the American prison system. Many of their members are also on the outside. They are a bad bunch of thugs and are often implicated in murders for hire,” he recited from memory. “They are a very dangerous highly organized group.”
“What does the letter say?”
“The letter says that mass killings will start the day after tomorrow, on the first of the month.”
“Does it say where or who they intend to kill?” Banyon asked as he scanned the other people in the room. They all were frozen in place and trying to listen to the one-sided conversation.
“No, of course not,” the President said tersely. “It just says millions will die on the first of the month.”
“Are you sure this isn’t a hoax?”
“The letter says they have perfected a delivery system for nanobots to achieve their goal. The letter further states the killings are inevitable. There is no way to stop them. Even though they don’t say it, we’re sure they are talking about ethnic minorities as the initial targets. Aryan types hate all minorities.”
“That’s interesting,” Banyon whispered to himself. “I hope there are no leaks on your team. I wonder if the bad guys know we have identified the method of killing. That could give us an edge.”
“Only a few trusted people know what we have discovered. That’s why you are working on this and not the FBI or someone else. Right now, I don’t know who I can trust and you have always come through for me in the past.” The last part of the statement bothered Banyon because so far he was on his own in solving this mystery.
“Why send you a letter? Why announce their intentions? They must want something,” Banyon replied as he searched his mind for a logical reason for the letter.
“Oh,” the President exclaimed. “They want something alright, but it is something I can’t give them.”
“What’s the demand?”
“They want me to place an immediate ban on all guns. They want me to disarm everyone in America immediately,” the President said with disgust. “Furthermore, they want a shoot to kill order for anyone found with a gun.”
“And if you refuse?”
“The letter says the next phase of their plan will take place within a day of the first murders and millions more will die,” the President lamented. “It’s a situation that won’t allow me to win.”
“Why would they make such a demand?” Banyon wondered out loud.
“Then only criminals and gun crazy nuts like Aryans would have guns.” The reply sent a shiver down Banyon’s back. He had heard the statement before.
“You can’t do that,” Banyon replied forcefully into the phone. “You can’t authorize a gun ban.”
“Even if I wanted to do it, I couldn’t,” the President told him. “Congress would have to either repeal an amendment or grant me special powers. That will never happen. These people don’t seem to understand the law.”
Banyon said nothing for a few seconds. “Wait, what happens if there are no congressmen? What happens if they are all dead?” Banyon was suddenly agitated. Loni flew to his side to comfort him. He knew the Effort was involved. Their goal had always been to take over America.
“Well, if there are not enough Congressmen for a quorum to take a vote, then martial law would have to be declared automatically,” the President said like a law professor. “I would have no choice in the matter.”
“Then the military would take over, correct?” A plot was suddenly becoming clear to Colton Banyon, the historian.
“Oh my God!” The President suddenly uttered loudly. “In reality, it means that some military officer from the pentagon would take over running the country. I’m not sure I could stop them legally.”
“The function of the government would be taken over by the military,” Banyon repeated in disbelief. “The country would suddenly be under a military dictatorship. The new leader could implement the gun ban, dispense with Habeas Corpus, and institute curfews. They could control everything and no one could stop them.”
“It could be the end of America as we know it,” the President agreed in a defeated voice. “A situation like that would be unprecedented in the history of the United States. I haven’t a clue on how to stop them.”
“But wouldn’t you still be President of the country and be in charge of martial law?” Banyon asked. “Wouldn’t a military leader still report to the Secretary of Defense, who reports to you?”
“Colt, there are many incidents where the President of a country didn’t survive the implementation of martial law. A military dictator would become very powerful, very quickly, and have their own ideas on how to control and run things. They certainly would disband the legislative branch of the government.”
“And want to eliminate any possible competitors,” Banyon added.
“That too,” the President replied in a shaky voice.
“Sir,” Banyon said after a few seconds of thought. “I recognize the plot. It has been used before in other countries, particularly in Germany, before World War II. The use of deception, diversion, crisis and the elimination of enemies was a common theme then. I think the ultimate goal is to take over America and make it into a military state. We already know they have tried to implicate some Jewish people for the murders and Aryans were murdered to enrage all white supremacists and gather media attention. We know they have advanced technology and are not afraid to use it. I think all this smacks of the plan that Hitler used to take over Germany. There is only one organization which could put together such a devious plan. I think the Effort is behind this plot.”
“Those bastards,” the President fumed. “I thought we had mostly eradicated them some time ago.”
“I’m not sure they will ever go away,” Banyon philosophized. “It’s a racist mindset which has surv
ived for as long as there have been people on the earth. The need to dominate other people has always been a driving force in almost all cultures. Many wars have been fought over those ideals.”
“We do know the Effort had tentacles everywhere in the past. Who knows how many of them have survived. How can we possibly stop them?” The President was starting to feel the pressure. There was panic in his voice.
“Nazi Germany lost the war partly because of their leader Adolf Hitler,” Banyon replied evenly. “He was an egomaniac and disregarded sound advice by professionals who knew better. He made many bad decisions which ultimately caused his own downfall.”
“So?”
“It would take another egomaniac, like Hitler, to attempt this ambitious plot. I think we can count on several bad decisions based on their immense ego. Mistakes will be made as well. We need to find that person. When we do, we’ll be able to stop this plot,” Banyon said as encouragement.
“I can’t let the Effort win on my watch,” the President said with new strength in his voice. “Colt I need you to solve this mystery quickly.”
“We’re working on leads as we speak,” Banyon lied as he glanced at everybody still frozen in their seats. “But right now you need to do two things to slow the Effort down while we work on the mystery.”
“What?”
“First you need to protect Congress from a certain nanobot attack. Then we need to prevent the military from instituting martial law,” Banyon told him. “Everything needs to be clandestine. Tell all the Congressmen and Congresswomen to change their routines. Make sure they don’t eat anything which isn’t canned. Tell them to not handle any letters and stay out of any public places. Whoever is doing this has some sort of delivery system and can get to them unless they take precautions.”
“I could send them to secure military bases,” the President replied.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Banyon warned him.
“Why?”
“Because the other thing we need to do is stop anyone from becoming a military dictator. We need to get a full background check on any person who could be a possible candidate if Congress was eliminated. If they get into power — they could close the bases to outsiders — and have the Congressmen under their control. You know what would happen then.”
A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10) Page 11