by Vincent Heck
Jason pulled his plate from the microwave and entered the living room. He sat on the couch next to his wife. He hadn't sat next to her in almost a month, like this. Work was so hectic and busy that by time he arrived home, if he did, it was extremely late and his wife was in bed already.
Jason always enjoyed his plate of food Christine always so graciously prepared. He thought about change in his life – maybe starting into a new career.
"Babe, what do you think about me finding a new job?"
Christine looked at him. She silently shrugged her shoulders. “Since you were a little boy you started on this path. That makes no sense.” She said.
"I mean, I'm never here for you."
"Well, the people need you to do your job."
Jason's head dropped. His eyes focused on the white fluffy carpet in their living room. It looked white. But, he knew despite its pure appearance resided dust, food, and other nasty things deep below the surface.
Although the intensity of him needing to act on something unknown continued to grow, he still struggled with personal feelings.
"I don't know, Chrissie, I just can't explain it, nor am I allowed to, but I don’t think this job is suiting me, anymore."
"Where did all of this come from?”
Jason shrugged.
“Well, what would you do?" She asked.
“I don’t know. Something." He said.
A few moments of silence passed as the news reported that the HSAS had been heightened from “elevated” to “high”. The reporter stated out of her mostly stoic demeanor that the only detail her station had was the fact that there were suspicions of multiple terroristic plots to take place in the beginning of next year.
“What’s this all about, Jason?”
Jason pulled one of her legs out from underneath her and began rubbing her feet.
"I don't know, something just don't seem right in this world we live in. People are plotting everyday. It’s crazy. Some people say it, then don’t do it, and all we can do is watch. Some people plan it, then they say a date to throw us off – it’s a lot. It’s very staggered and tricky. I just have a feeling something huge is about to happen and I don't know what it all encompasses, yet. But I’m not sure I’m completely ready for it."
Christine looked at her husband who was clearly in distress. Then she focused her eyes back to the TV.
They sat quietly for another moment as the news broke from commercial more abrupt than usual. The news anchor reported that the second consecutive Egyptian president was stepping down after a few years of the Egyptian people protesting.
“Why are you smiling?” Christine asked. “Is that good for us?”
Christine’s question broke Jason’s train of thought. “Oh. Yeah. I mean...yeah, it is. Those people were being mistreated and they fought back. It’s just how democracy is supposed to work. The people have the power. We work for them. That’s all.”
“What was going on over there?” She asked.
“You haven’t been watching? The people; their conditions were worsening. No jobs, really, available -- not enough money even where there were. Their economy was shaky. I mean, you just wouldn’t want to live over there. Their privacy was under siege. Everything. Their government didn’t respect anything about them; they needed a change.”
“Well, sorrry.”
“No, it’s just...I’m sorry. I mean, it’s just -- it has kinda been a big thing going on for a few years, now.”
“I’m just not into politics, like that. I guess I figure there are people to handle it for me.”
Another silence fell, while Jason massaged up Christine’s calves.
"Hey, Jason..."
Those words pierced his heart. At one point in the marriage, she’d use the words "sweetie," "babe" or "honey" to address him. Even “Jay”. Jason didn't remember her, really, ever using his full first name. Jason was a name that, even, some people in the likes of Saddam Hussein would refer to him. No one close to him ever used his full name.
She continued.
"Look at the TV. Isn't that someone you worked with?"
Christine turned up the television as the reporter filled in the details.
"Sources confirmed that the body of the young woman is, in fact, Tameka Washington. She was found in her own home shot multiple times sometime in the afternoon today. Police reports indicate that a couple days prior to this, two men tried to sexually assault her. While there are no signs of rape, we are still waiting for more answers. The young lady held a job in the Homeland Security department, but authorities say this is completely unrelated to her death. The DHS declined to make a statement when we contacted them. For now this is all we've got. My name is Melinda Kershaw in the nation’s capitol, for the Channel 9 news."
Christine bit her bottom lip before saying, "She works for you doesn't she?"
Jason, very worried, gazed into the television. “At least, she did.” Jason hopped up from the couch as he collected his empty plate. “Hey look, babe, I’ve gotta get some rest, I’m guessing tomorrow is going to be a hectic day.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I love you. Night.”
IV
September 4, 2001
10:04 p.m. EDT
WTC Building 7
The building stood quiet while Jason sat back into his office chair. National security drills were the hardest to plan. He only had a week left to make sure everything was lined up correctly. Clicking through files on his PC, everything seemed in place. He had planned to run through the simulator the next night to confirm.
Egypt’s state of affairs, however, was still on his mind.
As Jason reached into a medium-sized duffle bag under his work desk, he felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket.
“Hello?”
“Daddy.”
“Hey, sweet pea. I’m sorry, I’m still working.” He said while placing a laptop on his desk next to his work PC.
“Will you be home soon?”
“I don’t think in time enough, babes. I’m sorry.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone before Jason continued. “How about I continue telling you the story here over the phone? I should be packing up to come home pretty soon. K?”
“Alright, I guess.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s—it’s test week for me. Just like I always tell you that you can’t, I can’t fail my tests either. Capeesh?”
Vanessa laughed. “Capeesh, daddy.”
“One second.”
Jason logged onto his laptop to see 300 new messages. He logged into a secure chatroom filled with a legion of unknown chatters who had come together for a cause to support the Egyptian people. They were activists. Of course, his account was unknown, as well.
He wondered if that made him completely a member of the group known as The Unknown Hacktivists.
There were explicit live videos being posted of Egyptian police officers firing assault rifles into the crowds of thousands. All of the videos were first person angles, which left a real authentic rush of emotion, while watching police spraying bullets in his direction. The chatroom was also discussing the Egyptian government attempting to cut off all internet access to the country.
Of course, having access to what he did as the current NSA director of the NYC campus; Jason could have major pull in preventing that from happening. He typed,
He wasn’t going to have time for his daughter.
“Daddy?”
“Alright.” Jason continued, as he synchronized his laptop with his work PC. “Where did I leave off?”
“John Rolfe and Pocahontas.”
“Right.”
Jason to Vanessa:
The 1750s
So, despite the fact that the British who had settled in the new land weren’t surviving there, John felt he had a golden opportunity to thrive—he had product.
The conditions of the small struggling community in Ja
mestown, Virginia was lacking the product it needed to make its economy thrive, but John had tobacco.
During that struggle, people lacked food, and began to eat anything in their presence—including their horses and their own family. So, John proceeded with his original plan all along.
Patrick was an Englishman who had settled on the newly discovered area 10 years before John had become good friends with him. He was concerned with his friend’s ambitious and daring plans.
“What if Britain learns of your planting and selling tobacco?” He would ask often.
“What about it?” Was always John’s response.
“Certainly they’ll kill you. ‘Tis, surely, against the law, Mr. Rolfe.”
“Since when do they care about the civilization that exists here? Have a look at this land; clearly void of any leadership.”
John didn’t care about the consequences. He saw ‘savages’ in both the natives and the struggling settlers. He saw opportunity.
He planted his seeds, and waited for them to grow. When they grew, he sold his product to whomever would buy, and he built a major fortune on it. He used the tobacco money to help rebuild Jamestown, and set the groundwork for the future to come.
2001
“You still awake, sweet pea?” Jason asked.
Very faintly Vanessa responded, “Yeah. What happened to him and Pocahontas?”
“They were married and had a child.”
Vanessa said through a yawn, “I love true love. Like you an’ mommy. I’m gonna have true love one day and a beautiful wedding.”
“Yes, I’m sure you will. But, for now you’ve got me. And it’ll be that way for a long, long, long, long time.”
Vanessa laughed. “Get some rest, my love,” Jason said. “you have to get up early for school.”
“K. Love you daddy.”
“Love you, too, sweetie.”
Jason logged into his work PC from the secure I.P. address his laptop provided and searched a way to get the Egyptian Unknown activists and people back online.
He hopped back into the chatroom.
V
SATURDAY MAY 24TH 2003
(CURRENT HSAS: ORANGE -- HIGH RISK OF TERRORISM)
Jason snapped out of his daydream, staring, as usual, at the seal on his work desktop. The United States Department of Homeland Security -- It had a very authoritative ring to it. Occasionally, that title would remind Jason to just how important his position was supposed to be. He knew, as he sat in his office on a late Saturday afternoon, that if he didn't do his job right, something, or someone, could suffer. Recent history had taught him that.
Yesterday – the Egyptian’s newest revolution -- was important. He stayed idle, however, despite feeling inclined to move to action. He felt something about that day had changed America forever. He didn't expect Egyptians being freed to be the event. Had to be something else. One thing he did know, however, was from that point forward, he was going to take every precaution available.
A new email came through to his phone. Unknown. “Congrats on Egypt.”
A couple times Jason had tried to track the unknown emails, but could not. They were always from untraceable or fake accounts. But, he already knew that, as that’s what the legion’s strength was – no one could track them. In fact, a lot of their ability, like the services he provided for the NSA and DHS, came from his expertise -- top-notch abilities that, likely, wouldn’t be available to the public in decades, if ever.
A dark cloud grew inside of his chest. As usual of recent, Jason wondered if all of this was worth it. How did I lose her? Both of them. He thought to himself.
He looked at his notes from the first set of commission meetings in New York City. He had a whole tablet of testimonies. So much was going on. It felt overwhelming, at times.
He felt, both, angry and confused about 9/11.
This department was created in response to the September 11th attacks to consolidate all the departments of Homeland Security into one cabinet. Jason recited in his head.
He thought for a moment more. Everything they have done thus far, in government foreign policy, has centered around, and stemmed from, nine-eleven.
The gears in his head started turning as he began to search through government files on his computer. With the new accounts from the commission testimonies, he decided to investigate, himself. What was logged in the database on the day of nine-eleven?
It was time.
::TOP SECRET EXTREMELY CLASSIFIED CONTENT – Please enter your passcode.::
Jason entered his agent pass code.
The files within the database unfolded and fluttered down his computer screen in abundance. He picked a tab to begin reading.
"The September 11th Attacks, in the United States, Airplane hijackings result in the collapse of three World Trade Center buildings in New York City, destruction of the western portion of The Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia, and a passenger airliner crash in Shanksville, Pennsylvania."
Clicking the details of the accident Jason noticed at first glance a lot of boxes not filled on the report data sheet.
Osama Bin Laden.
Mohamed Atta.
Marwan al-Shehhi.
Ziad Jarrah, and Ramzi Binalshibh.
Those names were listed at the top of the page. Underneath, were 14 of the other men involved in minor to major ways. None of the faces he recognized.
Mohamed Atta had always been a familiar name to him, as were the others – they all came up in the meetings -- but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what was bothering him about them.
As Jason scrolled through the various tabs of nine-eleven information, he relived the day.
The day when he lost her.
He noticed all the events leading up to the attack were dated before September eleventh, all the way up to attempted communication with Mohamed Atta two hours before the first attack.
Jason continued to scroll. He bumped into what the file called, ‘a declaration of war’ from Bin Laden demanding Americans off of "the holy land of Saudi Arabian soil." In a box labelled ‘reply’ next to the declaration, the word "insufficient" sat, unapologetically.
The file came with an accompanying media file. Jason began to download it into a separate storage device he had always carried for work.
He read a ‘fatwa’ from bin Laden which said, "Slay the pagans wherever ye find them." bin Laden continued, in the file, to declare that the "duty of every Muslim" is "to kill Americans anywhere."
He clicked on the next tab to find the details of the day’s event.
Tuesday, September 11th 2001 8:46 am-10:28 am.
Flashbacks of smoke and ash filling his lungs began to haunt him. The smell of steel, concrete, flesh and blood gagged him, even in memory.
He continued to click.
2,976 victims and nineteen hijackers.
Forty victims on United 93, which crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
Fifty-nine victims on American 77, which landed on the Pentagon killing another 125 people.
Sixty deaths on United 175 and eighty-seven deaths on American 11, which were the two that hit the Twin Towers killing 2,605.
The only thing Jason saw in that 2,605 was one. He selfishly imagined that number being 2,604.
He looked at the pictures of the towers and the people diving out of the top floors. She was gone—so young -- to such a heinous, ignorant, uninformed act. I should have stopped her from going.
Jason began to wonder who dropped the ball on that day to have let such a horrific thing happen. He was angry that they didn’t track such an elaborate plan in advance. Is this on me? Jason wondered.
He pulled up ‘the number of deaths’ breakdown. Airliners. Who was the Administrator of Transportation Security? He thought.
He searched to find the
name of a man who currently held the position of executive, Christopher Yeager.
As he probed deeper through their files, despite their apparent foreknowledge of the situation, no drastic action was taken. None of this came across my desk?
One of the officers in that department was Tameka Washington. He searched Tameka in the databases to find that she was a Behavior Detection Officer in the TSA department. Their job was to observe the behavior of passengers going through security checkpoints.
He pulled up her death certificate.
"Cause of death: ‘Homicide.’" It said.
Jason decided to research the details of her death. He logged into the central system. Entering his removable drive into the USB port, he began to skim through the details of the report. “Two emotionless men visited her days before her death. They posed as different entities.”
Jason also downloaded the files, and saved them as “Tameka Files” onto his phone.
Closing down the Tameka Files, he clicked the next tab to find another letter from bin Laden to Americans, dated October 2002.
"You are the worst civilization witnessed by the history of mankind: You are the nation who, rather than ruling by the Shariah of Allah in its Constitutions and Laws, choose to invent your own laws as you will and desire. You separate Religion from your policies, contradicting the pure nature which affirms Absolute Authority to the Lord and your Creator."
The next tab was labelled "Response". “N/A” was the official conclusion. At the top of the page the very unpopular President's approval rating soared into the ninety percentile. That was the first time he had seen that statistic.
On that same page in bold red letters read the sentence, "Commence with Operation FAITH".
What is that?
The next tab in the report was labeled, “SUMMIT".