“I’m glad you approve, Kim, I’ll sleep better tonight. Now make it happen.”
Kim left knowing that although she was the sharpest kid on the block, her boss was no dummy either, and every now and then he had to remind her that he was in charge. She had to admit, his was a solid plan.
* * *
The dealer was waiting for them just as he’d instructed. All the rental cars were gone now, so he called the Mercedes-Benz dealer and instructed them to bring him a new CLS Coupe. The guy on the phone hesitated until Robert made it clear who he was, what he was doing and what his time frame was. It was all black, and the dealer had a big smile on his face as Melvin handed him a check for $75,000.
They headed north and were already across the Washington border when they heard on the news that their secret was not a secret anymore. They had the news radio on when two stories broke out of Seattle. First was a mysterious blue flash west of the city of Bellingham near the Canadian border, and the second was a report that broke the story of Tom Holsinger really being Matt Hurst.
They were stunned, of course. They were hoping for a private conversation with Matt that would convince him to Chair American Pride, to use his notoriety to start their baby with a tidal wave. Robert knew deep in his soul that Matt should be embracing this new opportunity, not running away from it. So he and Melvin decided they were going to offer Matt financial security so he could have the means to live a protected life the way many of the rich elite did.
Now though, it was going to be very difficult to get him alone, or worse, someone could now be planning to do him harm.
Robert had a thought now that Matt’s identity was out and he texted the blog-group to have everyone meet in thirty minutes inside his on-line world now that they all had access to the portal. It had suddenly become imperative to know where everyone stood.
He could feel this slipping away—and he just could not let it slip away. Matt had a destiny to fulfill and he was going to see it happen. Robert looked out the window as they were passing a town called Castle Rock. They were in the left lane on I-5 when he observed a big SUV barreling up the on-ramp to the freeway. A striking redhead was driving the monster truck, and as she pulled next to them he could see she had tears streaming down her face and she was in distress.
There was a truck in her lane moving slowly and she started accelerating the big machine with all the engine it could muster, which was plenty. The gap was closing for her to get into their lane, as their car was moving faster than the truck and equal to her.
He saw the woman scream, smash the steering wheel several times with her open hands and scream again. She looked like a Banshee. Then she grabbed the wheel with a purpose and bolted the beast forward with authority, barely creasing the gap between them and the truck. The move caused Melvin to brake and honk. He then let out several expletives that ended with, “fucking asshole!” And that was the nicest of the epithets.
As Melvin was going on about the things he would do to that son of a bitch if he ever got his hands on him, Robert drifted off about her. One of these days he hoped to have a beautiful woman just like that, but hopefully more stable.
She was so beautiful, though, he doubted he would ever forget her and even with that kind of crazy, he doubted he would throw her back.
He pulled his laptop up and read through his emails, trying to kill time and wondering how his brethren felt about this new revelation about Tom, as surely they would have heard by now.
Robert knew that a lot of people thought Matt Hurst to be guilty from minute one. When President Caulfield exonerated him, it sent waves of resentment through some sections of the population, especially the law enforcement types. For the most part though, Matt was the one person most people would love to talk to. The sheep followers wanted to know where their Messiah was; the U.S. wanted to know where Manuel was; and everyone else wanted the dirt on him and Nancy Chavez.
What mixture of those answers lie with Matt, Robert had no clue, but would hopefully soon find out. He remembered that they talked about this stuff on their blog, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember peoples’ individual stands on Hurst. He remembered Tom Holsinger was always pro Hurst, but wasn’t really loud about it.
Then it hit Robert. It was Matt Hurst, not Tom Holsinger, who came up with the idea for the game. He was the one that was always adamant that we could make change in this non-violent way.
Now Robert got it.
Matt was exposed to the “wrong way” on enacting change through Manuel and had come to the maturity to know that this type of great change could not come from an iron hand—it had to come from a gentle glove.
It must have killed Matt to see his dream come to fruition and to not be able to grab it because he’d lose his autonomy if he did. Oh, if he only would have known before he tipped Matt’s name to the very same reporter that was breaking the story right now. How could he have known, though? He was just trying to kick over the hornet’s nest to get Tom to commit.
Then the reality really hit him—as these things often do once you reach the right layers. Maybe Hurst had escaped his captors and his little move to prod Tom had exposed him to Manuel. Robert could unwittingly have been responsible for putting this whole thing into action, including the plane and the bombings. His original idea had been to use Matt’s notoriety to catapult the game into the stratosphere, but now he saw that this was now a mission to help a friend in serious trouble.
Robert and the rest of the world were most curious as to how Matt Hurst got away. Was it voluntary or did he escape? Did he have connections to the girl? At any time was he part of this whole thing? Robert was fairly sure the evidence was mounting that he was in witness protection or something. That’s why Matt ran when Robert showed him what should have been one of the crowning moments of his life.
It all made sense as he logged in and was brought to the virtual boardroom he created. He was not the first there, which was a relief. He said hi to BostonMike1 and SASPURSRULE29. Soon the other two arrived and they were five.
They sat and Robert addressed them before they could start, “I’m sure you all know by now that Tom Holsinger is Matt Hurst.” Everyone acknowledged and he continued, “I just found out as you did and I have to say that this would explain why Matt ran. I believe he got away from Pablo Manuel and was in hiding. I also believe that I inadvertently caused all this by dropping his name to the reporter that broke the story.
“I was only doing it to get him kicked into gear, as I had no idea who he was. I guess my question to each of you is, does it matter? The President cleared him and I believe he was in witness protection. So having him, and knowing him the way we do, it can only be a plus. Not to mention it’s his idea. The whole group, I believe, was an attempt by him to try to do this the right way after being around some people who did it the wrong way. Obviously we need to take a vote on this as you might not concur with me. But I say we stand by our man.”
Picomann was the first to speak out, “I say Matt is a good man and the things Tom was saying are how he really feels. So we know now that Matt Hurst was no traitor and he must have escaped. I’m standing behind him.”
BostonMike1 was next, “If Tom Holsinger is a traitor, then I’m the stupidest man on earth because even though we never met him, Tom is a patriot and if Matt is Tom, then Matt is a patriot. I stand.”
SASPURSRULE29 followed, but his was less wordy. “Stand.”
TimberJustin12 was next, but his was a news flash, “The local news here just reported that Matt’s wife and child have been attacked and are in the Anacortes community hospital. According to an EMT in Seattle, they were called to a park shortly before the plane crashed. Upon arrival, there was a comatose woman and child lying in front of the playground. Their last names were Holsinger, and it has been confirmed that a Jan Holsinger was taken to the Anacortes Hospital. They’re also saying that the pilot today was the pilot that took Matt out of the country four years ago and now he’s missing.”
It was more than Robert could have hoped for. Their first test as a group and they were like-minded. He added his final concurrence and said, “I’m heading there too, Justin, we need to support Matt.”
They agreed to log back on at 7:00 PDT and share what they’d learned. Robert had renewed hope, and he actually felt good calling them, “His” group.
* * *
It started in San Francisco this time. Last time, the sheep followers started in Central Park and it progressed west. This time it was starting out in the west. Hippy Hill was becoming a place of legend. Just like the Haight-Ashbury district in the Sixties, Hippy Hill was now ground zero for the new millennia fight for marijuana called the 420 Movement. At any given time there was a bongo crowd beating the drums, getting high, and bucking societies’ conventions at this grassy knoll at the end of the park closest to the entrance to the Haight. It was also a place to where nearly a quarter of a million people had come when America was under attack.
As it turned out, the sheep followers turned out to be a very mixed crowd. Like the city that was home of the park, difference was the norm. Apparently though, when the chips were down and they thought the good old U.S. had gone too far, they resorted to the ways of their parents, not only uniting, but taking it to the streets. A Hippie is a Hippie for life. You can shave them, cut their hair, and put them in suits or even behind badges, but they will persist in seeing joy in the world first. You can’t be any more American than that.
Of course, in such a mixed bag you will have your agitators. They were always present, flagrantly waving their rights guaranteed under the constitution of the United States. Albeit in an antagonistic way, they were the ones currently showing their “True American Spirit.” They were ones to make everyone think of the revolution side of things, the “I’ve had enough sect.”
Sandy Burroughs turned his TV sound up. It was all happening again, he could feel it. He knew the way it ended last time was not the end and he had hoped he would live long enough to see it. He had a vested interest in the outcome, as the sheep leader that these people followed and were waiting for was none other than Pablo Manuel, protégé of his dear deceased friend, James Haberman.
James Haberman had found Pablo in an online chess room, of all places. Somehow, in the Super Lotto of life, the two greatest minds of their time ended up being in the same place at the same time. Jackpot! Pablo had endured the loss of his family to a cartel vendetta only to then endure the loss of James to cancer. He showed the world that the concept of a World Superpower was not relevant anymore. He obtained an atomic suitcase bomb through a defected Russian agent and used it on the cartel that killed his family. And then, in a different kind of statement, he paralyzed the U.S. Military with a drone army he had created.
The part that no one on the planet truly knew except for Sandy was that Pablo really did have a God moment. He truly believed he was working as a messenger of God—and he convinced James. That scared Sandy to his foundation at the time, as James Haberman was not a man of God, he was a man of science.
Both of them were, so when James convinced him that some biblical wraths were going to go down, Sandy took the inside information and disappeared. He sold his law practice, his house on Russian Hill, and cashed out his stocks. He bought gold and he bought bonds. He married and moved to a secluded box canyon in Marin, becoming a naturalist. There he waited for the final blow to happen to the world, but it never came. Instead, just some lame recorded video that made no sense.
Pablo had mastered many languages, and as a result, could vary his accent. But his main dialect was always audible if you knew him, as it just lay slightly behind in the background. He had a rhythm to his speech and it was not a monotone, but it was soft. Sandy heard the words, but the inflections were all wrong for their young lad. He smelled a rat and figured the CIA was running some kind of a smoke and mirrors routine for the American Public.
The Pablo he knew was not going to be deterred until he’d accomplished his mission, so this probably meant he was dead. Yet they couldn’t announce that or there would be serious rioting all over the world. Whatever was happening before surely had not come to fruition, but now it felt like it was back.
Sandy felt it through and through. But time passed, memories got clouded, and lack of confidence in one’s rightness started to seep in. Until now, he was pretty much resolved to the fact that the U.S. had killed Pablo and run their cockamamie story to keep everyone at bay.
Better than that, it put out the fire in the hearts of all the followers that were about to start the boat a rocking in every major city in the world. The public was putting it all together quickly now, though. Once the Matt Hurst story hit, everyone was connecting Matt, Pablo, and the attacks. Now there was a story breaking of a laser being used and it suddenly looked like the U.S. was right back where it was two years ago, only the warfare was now being fought on U.S. soil.
After James and Pablo’s message of warning, Sandy had created a compound with all the things necessary to survive the fall of civilization, because that was what he was advised to do. Pablo and James really believed that a Utopia was going to rise from their actions, a new era of enlightenment, but not before a cold, hard reality set in and made its new shape on the landscape.
Sandy looked over at his wife, Claire, napping in her chair. He worked hard for many, many years, and she was his secretary through most of them. A couple of years after her husband died they got together. After he found out the truth of what was coming, work didn’t seem to matter anymore and together they created this sanctuary.
Although he must admit, when James and Pablo came into his life, he was stagnant and would have plugged along with his old ways until the day he didn’t show up for work and they had to do the old “wellness check”‘ at his house.
He’d had so much to learn these last couple of years. He started off clueless and now he could make wine, can his own goods, and grow a variety of fruits and vegetables. He’d learned to raise chickens and make his own honey from the beehives he kept. No one that ever knew him in the past would have ever thought that Sandy Burroughs, Tax Attorney to the spoiled, would become an earthy type of farmer? Well, he really didn’t have much choice, after James and Pablo’s revelation. Only a fool would have not taken their dire warning with anything less than total seriousness.
So once again, the stage was set and the fireworks had started, but would he see the finale? Hippy Hill was already completely covered and the crowd started spreading out from there. He could see from the overhead shot that the adjacent baseball field bordering 19th Avenue was now filling up, and Sandy was sure that it wouldn’t be long until the movement spread out across the country.
Whether they admitted it or not, everyone wanted to see this play out all the way this time. The truth was, however, Pablo no longer had the full support for his actions, or even close to it. The ferry incident was causing people to start a new non-violent message for the Messiah, “No more bloodshed.”
Every single person interviewed was shocked and refused to believe that Pablo would attack a non-military target, seeing that he previously went out of his way to warn people. Conspiracy theories were abounding, and it was all mixing into a big boiling cauldron of anger and despair, mixed with the desire for change.
America was the perfect melting pot to get a serious movement started, and it was happening again. The former middle class, the people who were against this type of anti-government protests in the Sixties were now largely out of work due to America’s horrible economy, and they held a lot of repressed anger.
Americans were also over-burdened at work because those who were the lucky enough to survive and were still employed were also now doing the job of three people. America was the most medicated country in the world, in part because their jobs were being erased by outsourcing and modernization at a staggering rate, and the middle
class was obliterated in the span of a single generation.
So those same voices against this type of action in the Sixties were in one of two places on this day. They were either pro or they were neutral; but in either case, a major voice against the people hammering the establishment was missing and the resulting lack of resistance was something that the Government should fear if it knew what was good for it.
A little word called revolution loomed right under the surface and those in power must be able to see it. Pablo had actually exposed them in ways they feared way more than they let on. Pablo proved they were not as mighty as they once were. Technology had evened the playing field and Sandy believed that also made the climate ripe for REVOLUTION.
Sandy thought of it in inner city speak, the U.S. had lost its street cred. They used to be Leroy Brown, but just like in the song, give a man motivation and he will take on a much bigger opponent and do damage. David and Goliath also popped into his head. Everyone loved an underdog and as the people took to the streets and parks all across the country, Sandy was sure that a few of his old clients had their ass’s clinched tighter than a frogs. Their establishment was coming apart again.
That was the Government’s underlying fear as well, that this congregating in public places would lead in other directions. Some of the people on the fringe liked the anarchy aspect of it all. They spat out their whispered yet sharp words and slowly spread their influence to the ones that were the most ignorant.
Within this large group, Sandy had already identified several sub groups that seemed to have their own agenda. That was what made this unique and obviously terrifying for the powers that be.
He took a sip of his merlot. It was literally his, as he’d made it and did not do a bad job either.
He’d wished there was a way to help the boy, but then again, he doubted he could add anything. Sandy knew Pablo before he was the Messiah for all these people, and also before he was on the most wanted list as the world’s most notorious terrorist.
Without Wrath (Harbinger of Change Book 3) Page 24