A New World: Conspiracy

by John O'Brien

“It’s probably best if I start at the beginning so you can see the foundation I’m operating from,” he responds.

  “Okay, you have my attention.”

  “I used to work for a certain three-letter organization and was stationed at a remote listening post. By remote, I don’t mean in a remote part of the world, I mean it was a small post that was merely a network transitional point. We, well, keyed into various confidential locations and either listened or provided secure tunnels for secure transmissions. One day, I noticed a hit from an unknown IP address. Looking into it, I saw that whoever it was created a virtual private network into our system and appeared to be pulling information from some of our secure channels. Intrigued as to who could do this, seeing as we weren’t really a known entity, I created a back channel using the one they created. I created a packet that looked like another piece of info they were pulling so it wouldn’t be discarded. It allowed me to peek into their system. I know, probably too much detail, but I wanted to know who could hack into our system before shutting them down.

  “What I found was interesting, to say the least. I wasn’t in for long before being found out and booted, but from what I gathered, it seemed like I stumbled onto, or into, a covert group that was pieced together from all parts of both our government and others. In addition, there were several larger corporations involved. I didn’t get all of the details, but what I did find scared the hell out of me. I found files that mentioned global annihilation and for a takeover of resources. At first I just thought I had stumbled onto some contingency planning group, but the deeper I went, the more this seemed like an actual plan being set in motion.”

  “How can you be sure it wasn’t some think tank group coming up with contingencies? They have those everywhere and come up with the wildest of scenarios,” I ask.

  “I thought so at first, but then I found some emails between heads of corporations and government agencies. They spoke of plans already in place, of only waiting for the right moment to begin initiating phases. Now, some that I managed to find were encrypted and I didn’t have the time to decrypt, nor, to be honest, did I really want to. Most of the unencrypted ones came from the CDC itself and provided the most information. Those mentioned vaccines, death rates, and population control. Attached were services to be restored and in what order, along with timelines,” he responds.

  “That still sounds like contingency planning to me,” I say.

  “I still thought that might be the case as well. That is until I found a list of facilities that were being constructed and statements detailing expenses. This wasn’t just a contingency, it was actually being funded. I pulled that one from one of the emails that included the CDC director. Now, I’m as skeptical as the next person, but then when this shit happened, I realized I had been looking at an actual plan that was being initiated.”

  “And you found all of this in the supposed short time you were in? Seems like something like that would take more time,” I say.

  “Well, I might have, um, downloaded some of the files. When they found me, I was quickly booted. The tunnel dropped and I never saw it again. I tried to hit the IP address several times, but it was non-existent,” Harold replies.

  “I’m not saying I believe you, but I’m not saying I don’t either. It’s just that it’s a little hard thinking about a single group bringing on an event like this. So, you mentioned the CDC several times. What if I told you I have a hard drive I picked up from the CDC?” I ask.

  Harold chuckles for a moment. “That’s not something they are going to have on a hard drive, nor really anywhere on their system. From what I saw, the actual director was involved and I sincerely doubt he stored anything like that on the network.”

  “And if I say that I have the director’s hard drive? What—” I begin.

  “Wait, what? You seriously have that? I mean, here…with you?” Harold blurts out, interrupting.

  “Yeah, Frank has it,” I answer.

  “How did you come by that? Never mind that. Can I take a look at it?”

  “I’ll talk with Frank in the morning and see that you get it. You’ll make a copy before digging in, right?” I say.

  “Of course,” he replies, the excitement in his eyes apparent.

  I take my leave and trudge wearily upstairs. It’s been a day that seems like a week. The huge emotional swings have definitely taken their toll. As much as that is true, I can’t wait to see Lynn. It still seems so unreal that she’s actually back but, then again, it seems strange that she was taken in the first place. Then there is the theory spouted by Harold. I’m beat and wouldn’t be too upset if I were allowed to sleep for a month.

  Lynn is lying on her cot. Her exhaustion is written all over her. Looking through one open eye, she begins to rise onto her elbow.

  “No need to get up for me. Just lie back,” I say, removing my boots before collapsing on my own cot. “You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

  “I know, Jack, but I’m okay. Just glad to be back. Let’s just leave it there. And thanks,” she replies.

  “Thanks for what?”

  “For coming to get me,” she responds.

  “Of course, hon. As if there were any other possibility.”

  “You know, Drescoll is having a hard time.”

  “I bet he is. I can’t imagine what he must be going through. Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “Just be there for him. There’s really nothing anyone can say or do. It’s something he’ll work through on his own,” Lynn answers.

  “Well, if he needs to take some time…”

  “No. That may be the worst thing for him. He needs to be kept busy.”

  “It’s been a hell of a day. I’m just glad you’re back. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  We both then fall into a coma-like slumber.

  * * * * * *

  Morning comes far too quickly. I come out of a deep, dreamless sleep, feeling almost as tired as when I went to bed. The events of yesterday slowly creep into my consciousness, and the vast amount of things to do today propels me into wakefulness – although wakefulness is a matter of perspective. Let’s just say the cobwebs become less dense. Lynn stirs beside me and starts to rise.

  “I’ve got the training this morning, you just rest,” I say.

  “Thanks, Jack,” she mumbles before rolling over and falling back asleep.

  Now I know she is exhausted if she will allow that. She knows my idea of training is walking to the fridge to grab a frozen Snickers bar. I trudge downstairs to meet with the other teams and we go through the morning training. Most of the others also seem tired and not really putting much effort into it with the exception of Bri who can’t seem to get enough. I shake my head at her enthusiasm and go through the motions. I must admit, it feels good to be moving, but so much is weighing on my mind that I can’t fully enjoy it.

  After showering, I see that Lynn and the others have gathered in our usual meeting location. She looks stronger today but still carries the gauntness from her ordeal.

  “We have a lot to cover.” I settle in. First, I give them a synopsis of my conversation with Harold.

  “Frank, will you see that Harold is set up with the hard drive?” I say.

  “Will do, Jack. Do you think there’s anything to what he said?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. And even if there is something to it, that doesn’t mean it’s that group that targeted us. There are some things that we know, but there’s so much more that we don’t. Let’s talk about what we do know and go from there. We know that we were targeted and…” I begin.

  “You mean that you were targeted. In my opinion, it’s not us that was targeted but specifically you,” Frank interrupts. “I think it’s important that we make that distinction.”

  “Okay, that doesn’t change my thinking much, but you’re right, we need to keep that in mind. Targeting a single individual is usually because that person or the group they head represents
a direct threat or it’s to send a message. What we are threatening or what message they want to send is unknown as of yet. What concerns me is that they knew where to hit us. And not due to some daily activity that puts us in a certain place at a certain time. This was something out of the ordinary we planned. That means one of several things. One, they knew Lynn was there and that we would eventually show up and staked it out. Two, someone here knew our plans and notified them, or three, they had the capability to track us and had a team in the field to act on that intelligence. Either one doesn’t leave me with warm, fuzzy feelings,” I say.

  “I have problems with your second idea. There were surely better opportunities to get to you if someone inside were providing information. And if they were staking out a place, why wouldn’t they stake out the ramp at McChord. It’s a far more likely that you’d show up there as opposed to a hospital where night runners are holding Lynn,” Frank comments.

  “That leaves us with option three which means they have the means to track us at any time. That also means that they have a tremendous amount of intel on us and we have nothing on them. Like, are they local, or did the team they send have to travel? That implies a high level of coordination and organization,” I state.

  “What that means is that they have satellite control,” Frank says. “And that could also be the reason our satellite communications have failed. They could have shut those comms down.”

  “That means an awful lot of satellites,” Lynn mentions.

  “That it does,” Frank replies. “I think we have to go with that assumption until we know anything different – work from the worst case scenario. You know that the comms and leadership are priority targets when initiating hostilities. And seeing how they targeted you, that means they have a pretty clear picture of our leadership.”

  “I agree. We are at a distinct disadvantage. The implications are clear; we are dealing with a professional organization which brings us back to Harold’s theories. As much as I hate conspiracy theories, they are out there and with what happened, the little pieces, while individually not seeming like much, when put together, they present a much more worrisome and frightening picture. Have we had any word from Captain Leonard?” I ask.

  “Not since we lost communication with you,” Frank answers.

  “You’ve talked with our prisoner. Did you learn anything?” Lynn asks.

  “Not really much other than he is a pro. I know he’s an Aussie and I’m guessing Australian SAS. I think I’ve discovered some of his buttons but haven’t gleaned anything of value so far. Unfortunately, these things take time, and that’s something I don’t think we have a lot of.”

  “Do you think this a prelude to an assault, then?” Lynn asks.

  “I don’t know but, if they’re after our leadership, that seems the next logical step,” I respond.

  “We need to arrange longer patrols then. We can’t really afford to spare many of the teams being out, and that would put them at risk. We need aerial patrols and can have Craig and Roger conduct those in light aircraft. That way we can have some warning of anyone approaching,” Lynn says.

  “Good idea. Let’s make that happen. I would venture that, because the shooter’s support team was located where they were, their main encampment is some distance away. That doesn’t mean anything and is only speculation,” I say.

  “It makes sense,” Frank states.

  I notice Drescoll is not his usual self, which is to be expected. He is quiet and fidgety. I let him know that it’s okay if he wants to take some time for himself – he doesn’t have to be here if he doesn’t want to be.

  “No, this is where I want to be. I want to be a part of this,” he replies.

  “So, what else can we be doing?” Bannerman asks.

  “Well, as Frank mentioned, we have to take it that they know our leadership and may be targeting it. Greg is still out there, and we need to get him back. We also need to notify Leonard. Without our satellite comms, that means a flight down the seaboard to find him and attempt to communicate via UHF. If we are being targeted, our greatest defensive asset is the Spooky and it’s vulnerable on the ramp at McChord. We need to clear a runway nearby where it can be better protected. Bannerman, can we create a runway inside the compound?” I ask.

  “There’s still some land that we aren’t using for pasture. We can grade a runway there if you’ll give me the specs you need,” he replies.

  “That also means we’ll have to transport our ammo down and store it,” Frank comments.

  “We can dig some bunkers but that will take time. In the meantime, we can store it in some of the storage containers. Fuel will be trickier, and we may have to transport the fuel down and store it in tanker trucks,” Bannerman says. “As soon as you get me the specs, we’ll start clearing a landing strip, though.”

  “If we are looking at an attack, I think we need to start storing more of our ammo and vehicles here rather than at Fort Lewis,” Lynn states.

  “Most of the crews are working to get material for the living quarters, but we can re-prioritize some crews. What and how much were you thinking? We have some space in the vehicle sheds, but it’s not unlimited,” Bannerman says.

  “I’ll get with you after to see what we can bring down,” Lynn responds.

  “So, let’s get Harold set up with the hard drive and see if he can dig anything out. We still don’t know this is what we’re dealing with, but I think we go along with that assumption for now. Frank, will you talk with Craig and Roger to arrange patrol schedules and, Lynn, get with Bannerman for the storage requirements. I’ll talk with our prisoner later today to see if he has any desire to share with us. If we can get a rudimentary runway carved out today, I’ll bring the Spooky and 130 down in the morning. We’ll meet tonight to discuss getting Greg and contacting Leonard,” I say.

  “I think there is something else we need to discuss,” Franks chimes in.

  All eyes turn on Frank.

  “Go on,” I say.

  “In all of this, we can’t forget about the threat of the night runners. We’ve picked up an increased presence of night runners around the bases. We don’t have a lot of cameras in place, but the pictures we’ve gathered from those few show an increase. I don’t know what that means. It could be that they are being pushed south out of the Seattle area due to a food shortage,” Franks says.

  “Any idea of how many or pack sizes?” Lynn asks.

  “It’s hard to tell from the occasional snapshot, but it seems like moderate pack sizes. I have no idea how many total may be in the area. Perhaps we could take the Spooky up some night and get a better picture,” Frank answers.

  “We can do that. I believe our priority is to consolidate our resources, get Greg back, and contact Leonard soon,” I say.

  “When you get back will be fine. I haven’t seen much of an increase, but it’s there. Let’s just not forget about it. And I’m wondering if there are any ramifications that might come from taking out the night runners at the hospital,” Frank adds.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Well, in the past, we’ve seen something from the night runners when we’ve struck. We began attacking them at night and hit one of their larger lairs, although they had moved, and then they attacked the compound here. It just seems that when we do something, they counter by changing tactics and seem to gain in their abilities. I’m just wondering if there is something that might spawn from this one.”

  “I couldn’t even begin to hazard a guess. I’m hoping nothing happens as we took out the entire lot of them. But it does bear some thought. How many night runners do you think are in the area?”

  “Well, from the number we saw from the Spooky that one night, and from the percentages in the CDC report, I would say we were initially dealing with a total of plus or minus sixty thousand in the area. That number may have become whittled down, but I don’t think we put much of a dent in that pack of ten to twenty thousand we saw in the AC-130 video. They’re still
around somewhere,” Frank muses.

  “Do you think they are the ones you’re starting to see up north?” Robert asks.

  “I don’t know. I’ve compared photographs with the ones we’ve seen here and haven’t seen a match yet. It could be, but I think I would see at least one pack that was the same. And they aren’t in the same groupings we saw around here. So, my guess is that these are different,” Franks answers.

  “Keep an eye on it. We’ll try and get the Spooky aloft tonight or tomorrow night to take a look. Today I’d like to take it out and conduct a perimeter patrol as Lynn recommended. At least we can clear the immediate area,” I say.

  Upon leaving, I feel that there’s a certain renewal of energy within our encampment. There is still a depressed aura, but there is a focus underlying it – like there’s a lot to do and we’d better get to it. The air has almost a frantic electricity to it. We need to inform everyone about what is happening and what we’re doing about it. Rumors left unchecked can create a crazy all its own. Without straight information, the mind will create its own and wander to the craziest of places – coming up with boogeymen of the worst kind. The pervading depression is not so much the loss, but the way it happened…by an unknown entity. That creates its own fear. Giving a name to the boogeyman, making them real, and therefore something that can be dealt with, will alleviate a greater part of that.

  Pulling onto the ramp, I hate the paranoia that has crept in. I move faster from the vehicle to the aircraft and check the panels closer during the walk-around which itself is conducted at a quickened pace. I search the surrounding building rooftops for flashes of light or silhouettes. We manage to get the beast into the air without any fatalities or the aircraft blowing up; although I must admit, being exposed on the ramp like that wasn’t my favorite place to be.

  We are a crew member short with Lynn taking care of things at Cabela’s with Bannerman. It’s daylight, so we don’t really need the low light monitor. We stream north, looking for signs of the night runners Frank mentioned. There are a few fresh trails through some of the tall grass, but I don’t see anything that would indicate a vast number of them. Opening up, I discern a few packs in the area and have Robert mark the buildings. We have a lot of miles to travel but taking out night runner lairs have a priority just as high.