The Illuminati

by Larry Burkett

  “I’m sorry kid, but I have to go. It’s going to get worse around here with this Holy Joe stuff from him. He won’t let up. Just don’t let him con you into that junk, okay?”

  “Okay, but where are you going? Will you call me?”

  “You bet, kid. As soon as I’m settled, I’ll give you and Mom a ring. Just remember, I’m your buddy. If anybody bothers you, you give me a call.”

  With that, his brother left. Russ didn’t know it at the time, but he would never see his brother again.

  A few weeks after Ryan left, Russ heard the phone ring and picked up the receiver. His father had already answered the call and he listened in when he heard his brother’s voice. “Hi, Dad. It’s Ryan.”

  “What do you want?” his father asked gruffly.

  “I’d like to come home, Dad. I—I miss the family. It’s been pretty tough these last few weeks.”

  “Well, we don’t want you back,” his father snapped. “You made your choice, now you can live with it. We’re doing just fine without . . .”

  Russ quickly shouted into the phone, “Dad, I want him back. Please let him come home. I love Ryan.”

  “Get off the line, Russ!” his father ordered. “You don’t have anything to say about this. Your brother is possessed by the devil, and I don’t want him in this house.”

  Russ heard the other end of the line go dead before he even had a chance to talk to his brother. As he sat crying, his father came into the room.

  “Russ, don’t you ever contradict me again,” he said with clenched fists. Russ knew he had been drinking and was just likely to hit him again. “If you don’t like it here, maybe we can arrange for you to leave, too,” his father said as his eyes narrowed. “Do you want to leave?”

  “No, sir,” Russ said as he felt himself wet his pants. He lived in fear of his father more than ever after Ryan had left. It seemed like he was drunk more than he was sober. But even when he was drunk he insisted on the family accompanying him to church meetings that often turned into little more than witch hunts and hate protests. Virtually no one ever contradicted his father, who was by far the largest single supporter of the small church he attended.

  When the call was made for sinners to repent, his father would literally shove Russ and his mother out of their seats and push them up front. His timid, Presbyterian-raised mother lived in constant terror as the group would shout and wail to drive the “devils” away. Even the slightest protest from Russ resulted in a blow to his head that would make his ears ring for several minutes. He usually made his confession of sin, all the while hating the group, especially his father.

  When Russ was thirteen, his father died of a brain hemorrhage. He staunchly refused to attend the funeral held by the group of fanatics his father had joined.

  Russ and his mother made a concerted effort to find Ryan, who had last been heard from in the Los Angeles area. When calls to the various police departments failed to turn up any news, she hired a detective agency to find him. A few weeks later she received a report that a young man, thought to fit her son’s description, had just been killed in a drug-related crime in the Hollywood area. Complete dental records were requested, and upon receiving them, positive verification was made.

  The shock of this news, along with the stress of the years with Russ’ father, was too much for his mother. One evening she took a bottle of sleeping pills and simply never woke up again. Russ heard a scream somewhere in the distance as the image of his mother lying in her bed flashed before his eyes. He awoke with a start. Once awake, he knew it would be another long sleepless night.

  At Data-Net headquarters, in the congressional office building in Washington, Jack Rhinehart was already at work on the problem of locating Jeff Wells. He was still smarting from the tongue lashing he had received from Siever about his screwup with the earlier program.

  “I think I’ve got it,” he said aloud to no one in particular. The staff assigned to assist him did what was required but nothing beyond. Collectively his team probably could have matched the abilities of Jeff Wells, but no single person was Wells’ peer. Without a total team effort, Rhinehart could accomplish little and they knew it. So they mostly steered clear of him.

  Rhinehart was furiously typing instructions into the system console. He had been frustrated at every turn in trying to crack Jeff Wells’ access code into the Data-Net. Specifically, he wanted a complete record of Jeff Wells, ID #JDW 100091. He finally accessed the information by instructing the Data-Net operating system that he was a bank official requiring credit information on Wells. The program began to sort out all transactions for Jeff Wells and route them to the printer.

  One of the last transactions was the purchase of two coach class airline tickets on Delta. He then called up the Delta file and requested booking information. The tickets had been purchased to Sacramento, California, for Wells and Karen Eison.

  “He’s on his way to Livermore,” Rhinehart exclaimed jubilantly. Rhinehart closed the computer file and dialed Russell Siever’s office.

  Siever had been sitting at his desk for the better part of an hour just looking out at the city. He was frustrated that he was being blamed for allowing Wells to lock them out of the Data-Net system. How was I to know Wells would go off the deep end? he thought morosely.

  Even his wife, Elisa, was unsympathetic to his plight. When he had told her about the problem with Wells, she had flared up too, reminding him that Data-Net was the key to controlling the economy. What Russell Siever didn’t know was that his wife was a key player in the Society. Her assignment was to monitor and report on her husband’s activities.

  When the idea of excluding such a large group of citizens from Data-Net was first discussed, Siever had been sure that the Congress or the courts would step in to stop it. He never dreamed the Society was capable of shutting down the Congress and controlling the Supreme Court.

  The court, he almost said out loud. Of course. How could they have known about the assassination that would allow Hunt to nominate a majority? Nobody could have, unless they also planned the murders. Even Hunt! Siever felt his blood go cold as he put the facts together. The Society had the president killed! Rutland was their inside man. He shuddered with the realization that an organization capable of controlling the United States government would not hesitate to eliminate another person— a problem like him. That’s what Elisa had been saying. She has to be a part of the inner circle too, his mind screamed.

  Just then the phone rang. He was almost too panicked to pick up the receiver. His hand was shaking as he answered, “Yes, this is Siever.”

  “Dr. Siever, this is Jack Rhinehart. I’ve got some good news for you.”

  Siever bolted out of his chair. “Have you cracked Wells’ code?”

  Rhinehart pulled the receiver away from his ear. “No,” he replied, still jubilant. “But I know where Wells is going.”

  Siever sat back down in his chair, trying to compose himself. It wouldn’t do to let a back-stabber like Rhinehart know he was worried. “Where do you think he is going, Doctor, and why?”

  “He’s on his way to Livermore—probably to see Eison. He’s traveling with Eison’s daughter. I got a record of all his purchases and saw he bought tickets to Sacramento.”

  Suddenly Siever felt renewed. Even if Rhinehart couldn’t crack the code, Wells was almost in his grasp. “Good work, Doctor. But don’t tell anyone else. I’ll handle it from here. Can you track Wells through Data-Net?”

  “No problem,”Rhinehart said confidently. “I’ve already set up a credit tracking routine. If he or the girl use their cards, I’ll know instantly.”

  “Okay,” Siever said, breathing a sigh of relief. Maybe Rhinehart isn’t such an idiot after all. “Keep on it, and let me know the minute anything else develops.”

  With that, Siever hung up the phone. He immediately called his longtime friend, Attorney General Fred Lively, who was in a meeting.

  “Yes, Russ? What’s up? I was in a meeting discussing
the roundup of the terrorists. I understand you have some kind of problem with the tracking system?”

  “Yes, but I can’t discuss the details right now. It involves the head of the computer department, JeffWells. We think he has purposely stopped the search routine.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Lively asked, slightly irritated. He didn’t understand computers and didn’t really want to. What he did want was an opportunity to teach the Christians a lesson. Without Data-Net, he couldn’t do that. He had a lot of grief to lay on those who had caused him so much grief over the years. Christians were against anything progressive, including the new world order.

  “The problem is Wells has locked up the system and taken off. I need him picked up and brought back to D.C.”

  “No sweat, Russ. Tell me where he is and I’ll have the secret service pick him up.”

  “Listen, Fred, just picking up Wells is not enough. He’s a weird guy and may not want to cooperate. But he’s traveling with a young woman— a Karen Eison. She may be the key to getting Wells’ cooperation.”

  “You mean Dr. William Eison’s daughter?”

  “Yes, do you know her?”

  “Only through her father,” Lively said. “He’s on our subversive list.”

  “Dr. Eison is a subversive?” Siever asked.

  “He is as far as the Society is concerned. He was approached several years ago about joining, but refused. Said he was not political. And anyone who is not with us is potentially against us.” Lively said matter-of-factly.

  How deep does the Society go? Siever wondered as he listened to Lively. “Wells will cooperate if we have the girl. Can you pick her up and keep her isolated for a few days?”

  “Like I said, no sweat,” responded Lively. “Leave it to me. Where are they headed?”

  “Probably Livermore, to see Eison,” Siever repeated, as he began to breathe a little easier.

  “Just be sure you don’t hurt Wells. No one else is able to get into the system.”

  “We’ll treat him like he’s royalty,” Lively said flippantly. Being in charge of my own police force is great, he thought to himself.

  Jeff and Karen had taken an early morning flight to Sacramento and then rented a car for the long drive to Livermore. He still wasn’t sure exactly why he had decided to leave Washington and to lock up the system. But he had a bad feeling about how his Data-Net system was being used and wanted to discuss it with Dr. Eison. In the meantime, he needed to make sure that no one else modified Data-Net while he was gone, so he installed his own system code. He had no idea the commotion his actions had stirred up in Washington.

  “I still find it hard to believe the government would use the network to discriminate against its citizens,” Jeff said as he and Karen drove from Sacramento to Livermore.

  “It doesn’t seem to make any sense,” Karen agreed. “But I noticed the headlines in the newspapers back at the terminal. They all described a massive effort to locate a group called the Constitutional Rights Committee—apparently some kind of terrorist organization run by a religious group.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt anything in our country anymore,” Jeff said with disgust. “We’re becoming an armed camp, especially out here. Can you imagine the airlines recommending that we fly into Sacramento instead of Oakland or San Francisco? They said the airports there aren’t secure and they couldn’t guarantee our safety.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t tell me that earlier,” Karen sighed, as she slid over next to Jeff. “I probably would have worried about it all the way here.”

  “I actually heard one of the passengers talking about the planes flying into Los Angeles being equipped with flares in case of a terrorist attack using surface-to-air missiles. Commercial jets are routinely using military procedures to evade being shot down.”

  “I just can’t believe that anyone is barbaric enough to target ordinary civilians. What is to become of us?” Karen asked as she envisioned the plane they had been on, full of passengers. “Children are on board those planes!”

  “Apparently there have already been at least two planes shot down over L.A. by either drug runners or terrorists.” Jeff realized he probably should never have brought it up. Now Karen, who always saw the best in people, would probably have nightmares about terrorists.

  “It’s part of the reason Data-Net was created,” Jeff continued. “By going to a cash-less system, the drug trade could be greatly reduced and terrorists couldn’t demand ransom for such acts.”

  “That certainly seems like a good idea,” Karen agreed.

  “I thought so, too. But if the system is not managed carefully, it could be used to control anyone, including honest citizens.”

  “Who would want to do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeff replied, but inside he had that nagging feeling that maybe he did. “That’s why I wanted to talk with your father. Maybe he’ll be able to shed some light on this whole thing. I just know there is no logic behind having a file of twenty million exclusions, unless the system is being used to exclude a lot of ordinary citizens.”

  “I hope you’re wrong,” she said. “Surely there is some other logical explanation.”

  It was nearly three o’clock in the afternoon when Jeff and Karen drove up to the entrance of the Livermore research facility. Jeff stopped at the guard gate to call Dr. Eison for clearance into the restricted area. The phone rang in Eison’s office, but it was his secretary who answered it. Her eyes were wide with fright as two armed secret service men sat watching her. Dr. Eison was sitting at his desk, with two more secret service men holding guns on him too.

  “Can’t you tell me what this is all about?” the bearded physicist asked the man closest to him, who seemed to be in charge.

  “It’s a matter of national security,” he responded gruffly. “Surely you must understand that, working here.”

  “But Jeff Wells has the highest security clearance,” Eison protested. “Has he done something wrong?”

  “I can’t talk about it, Doctor. Now keep quiet until we have Wells in custody.”

  “Be sure you answer Wells calmly,” the trembling secretary was warned.

  Sounding as professional as she could under the circumstances, she told Jeff he had been cleared but that Dr. Eison was in a meeting and would see him a little later. As Jeff drove up to the gate, the guard hit the switch to raise the guardrail. As soon as he was inside the compound, the gate closed again and immediately four armed men surrounded the car.

  “Jeff, what’s going on?” Karen cried out as one of the men jerked her door open, took her by the arm, and pulled her out.

  The man on Jeff’s side of the car commanded him, “Out of the car!”

  “Who are you? What’s this about?” Jeff asked, trying to decide what he should do. The two men on his side of the car pointed their weapons at him and commanded again, “Step out of the car, and keep your hands in sight. Now!”

  Jeff could see they were in no mood to debate the issue. He slowly lifted his big frame out of the car, being careful to keep his hands in plain sight. “Take it easy,” he told the men. “I’m not armed.”

  As soon as he stepped out, one of the men frisked him carefully and told his companion, “He’s clean.”

  “Come with me!” he ordered Jeff sharply.

  The two men holding Karen led her away to a car waiting just outside the gate, and the two secret service men nearest to Jeff shoved him toward a second car. “Wait!” Jeff shouted toward the other car. “Where are you taking her?” But by that time, he was already handcuffed and shoved into the back seat.

  Without another word, they drove off in the direction of Livermore Air Field, where an Air Force plane was waiting. Within thirty minutes Jeff was winging his way back to Washington—confused, and more than a little angry.

  15

  CRACKDOWN

  “What have you done with Karen?” Jeff shouted at Siever when he came into the detention cell at Andrews, where the secret ser
vice men had deposited the fuming programmer after they touched down.

  “Calm down, Jeff.” Siever tried to use his most sociable tone, but it came out sounding like an amateur actor. “Karen is fine. All I need is the code for system entry.”

  “Without me, no one will get in the system again,” Jeff said defiantly.

  “You will give me that code!” Siever said, more in anger than in fear. “I need it. If you want to see that girl again, you’ll give it to me right now.”

  “I wasn’t trying to sabotage the system,” Jeff said sharply. “If I had wanted to do that, it would be down now. I just wanted to find out why you are trying to screen out such a large group of users.”

  “That is not your concern!” Siever glowered at Jeff. Now his pride was overcoming his fear. He was getting tired of playing games. First it was Rutland; now this kid. Just then one of the secret service men who had helped transport Jeff back to Washington stepped through the door.

  “What do you want?” snapped Siever.

  “Attorney General Lively is on the phone and wants to talk to you, sir,” the agent replied curtly. “He says for you to hurry.”

  Siever left Wells and went to the office at the end of the hall. “Yes,” he growled into the phone. “What is it, Fred?”

  “Hold on,” Fred Lively said as he handed the phone to Cal Rutland. Lively had never been so afraid in his life. Rutland was as angry as anyone had ever seen him. Lively had called to tell Siever about capturing Wells, and within five minutes he was facing an enraged Rutland. Rutland’s eyes told what his words did not; he was ready and willing to kill.

  Lively had not even considered that the White House phones might be monitored; he wished he had because when Rutland found out what he and Siever were doing with Wells, he was fit to be tied. Lively had lied his way out of it by saying he thought Siever had White House approval for arresting Wells and the girl. He had placed the call to Siever immediately.