The Accident

by James Kipling

  Jessica closed her eyes and saw her husband sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading his Bible. Jack's appearance seemed innocent, but the man worked for the CIA. Jessica had never questioned Jack's moral reasoning for working for a government agency. Perhaps the man felt he could do some good in the midst of evil? Perhaps the man felt he could witness to lost souls? But Jack worked to create artificial intelligence. Where was any innocence, any good, any noble deed in that field of work? How could a Christian man carry out his commitment to honor Biblical truths creating artificial intelligence? If anything, the very words 'Artificial Intelligence' created evil images in Jessica's mind, that ended with the mark of the beast. Had Jack simply been a man who had somehow deceived her heart and manipulated her mind? No. Jessica refused to accept the thoughts her mind was forming, on a scribbled-up piece of mental paper written in haste. “Jack...worked for the...CIA,” she whispered, before her mind could prevent her mouth from speaking.

  “The CIA?” Mandy asked. Without saying another word, Mandy simply stared at her sister for a few minutes. Her mind kept hearing Jessica speak three letters over and over again. CIA...CIA...CIA. Mandy felt as if her mind were trapped on a horrible roller coaster ride. “I'll go make our tea.”

  Jessica looked up at Mandy. “Jack didn't drink.” she insisted in a pitiful voice. “Jack...was murdered.”

  Mandy felt fear fill the living room; a deep, oozing fear that suddenly burst open like a hidden sore. “Jessica--”

  “Back home,” Jessica whispered, “I spotted a woman watching my house. I'm being watched.” Jessica looked toward the front door. “That woman may still be watching me. I don't know.” Jessica focused back on her sister with scared, confused, eyes. “If I'm being watched, Jack must have...Mandy...he must have done something.”

  Mandy glanced quickly at the front door. “And you believe Jack was...killed?” she dared to ask.

  “No one was allowed at Jack's funeral except me,” Jessica told Mandy, and then made an awful face. “I'm so sorry I lied to you, but the man from the CIA that contacted me insisted that no one attend Jack's funeral, for security reasons. That's what he said.” Jessica slowly closed her eyes and saw Jack sitting at the kitchen table in their home, reading his Bible. “Jack was killed because...he was good,” she whispered, and then closed her heart and locked the door.

  Mandy, realizing that Jessica was through talking, decided to roll her wheelchair into the kitchen and work on making the tea. It was going to be a long day and night. Outside in the rain, Wendy Cratterson parked down the street from Mandy's little house. With a venomous joy, she began planning how she was going to bring Jack and Jessica Hayes together once again.

  Chapter 3

  Poison Plans

  Jacob Green walked into a concrete room that had been turned in a fancy meeting room, lined with expensive furnishings and lush, glossy, hardwood floors that complimented walls, which were covered with rare paintings that valued into the hundreds of millions. The room was located deep under the White House, protected by tons of steel and concrete, planted into raw earth hugging the room. Numerous other private rooms were also secured by the same steel and concrete face mask. Jacob understood that all the secret rooms nestled under the White House served as meeting places for 'Shadow Governments' to meet, smoke cigars, and discuss the ruin of America, while the American people continued to run around on the mouse wheel. The ultimate destruction of America was the goal of the 'Elites' who operated the 'Shadow Governments', and the CIA was the head of the snake. Edwin Whitfield Green, the current president of the United States, was not a favorite of the 'Elites'. Edwin Whitefield Green wasn't even supposed to make it past the Republican primaries, let alone defeat Jason Morris Coldwell, a high-ranking democrat that was popular among America's young communist and socialist parties. Somehow, Edwin Whitfield Green - a mystery that the 'Elites' still fumed over - had managed to win the popular vote by a wide margin of eight million, and the Electoral votes by a margin of ninety-five; basically a landslide win, proving America was ready to get off the mouse wheel. Edwin Whitfield Green was a patriot, and an enemy to the 'Elites', and that made Jacob Green a target as well, but the 'Elite' weren't aware that Jacob Green existed. “Are you sure?” Jacob asked a tall Hispanic man wearing an Army uniform, as he entered the meeting room.

  General Jose Garcia, a decorated soldier who had nearly been forced out of the Army by the last president, handed Jacob a brown file with the words 'CLASSIFIED' stamped on the front cover in large, green, letters. “It has been confirmed that Jack Mayes used the 'AIB' system – the Artificial Intelligence Brain - to implant some type of virus into the Pentagon’s main intelligence server. The intelligence server at the Pentagon was--”

  “Was created by Alvin Lasserson in 1994. Alvin Lasserson was a computer whiz kid who was recruited by the CIA in 1992 at the age of nineteen. Alvin Lasserson helped the CIA create some very sophisticated security software. The new toys were connected to networks in the CIA, the FBI, and other agencies,” Jacob told General Garcia in a quick, intelligent voice, and finished with, “Alvin Lasserson was found dead in his bathtub in 2009, soon after, Throwman held up his right hand and became president.”

  General Garcia was impressed that Jacob wasn't a rookie. Sure, he didn't like that Jacob dressed and looked like 'Fonzie' from the show 'Happy Days', but at least the guy knew his business. “The intelligence server at the Pentagon is connected to--”

  “The CIA, the NSA, the FBI...yeah, I know,” Jacob said, glancing around the empty room, and then looked up at General Garcia. “Jack Mayes was a whiz kid himself. If I recall his IQ was--”

  “Jack Mayes scored a 167 on the CIA Skills and Comprehension exam,” General Garcia nodded his head. “The man was a certified genius.” General Garcia motioned his hand toward a long, wooden table. “Jack Mayes was home-schooled,” he continued.

  “Graduated college at the age of fourteen,” Jacob said, as he walked over to the table. “Graduated from MIT, and went on to work for 'Advanced Computer Theories', until the CIA got wind of him.” Jacob studied the long wooden table, and then plopped down at the furthest seat from the front; the closest seat to the exit door.

  General Garcia glanced toward the door, checked his watch, and then focused back on Jacob. “The CIA killed Jack Mayes, Mr. Green. He's not very popular with us, either.”

  “It's not been proven that Jack Mayes was teamed up with any foreign entities, right?”

  General Garcia checked his watch again. President Green and Vice President McDougal were due in the meeting room at 1500 hours sharp. “As far as our sources can tell,” he told Jacob, “Jack Mayes wasn't outsourcing to any foreign governments.”

  Jacob leaned back in a brown leather chair and rubbed his chin. “General Garcia, what do we know about the virus Jack Mayes created?”

  “The experts at 'IO', short for Intelligence Operations, are still trying to figure out the virus.”

  “What do they have so far?” Jacob pressed.

  General Garcia remained standing. “Check your file.”

  Jacob looked down at the file he was holding. “Sure,” he said, opening the file, and then began reading through a series of very complicated papers. However, Jacob Green wasn't a stupid man. While he was no Jack Mayes, intelligence wise, he was no Goober Pyle, either. Jacob had graduated from an extremely private college in New Zealand, where he was taught the art of 'Government Affairs'. In other words, Jacob had been trained to create mechanics that would manipulate and alter world governments, which he had utilized to help his old man become the next president of the United States of America. “There's some good stuff in here,” he said finally, reaching a page that, although written in a bunch of computer-talk, began to shed some light on the virus Jack Mayes had created. Jacob read the report with fascination. “Man, if hackers ever got ahold of this virus, they would drain the world banks dry.”

  “Exactly,” General Garcia sta
ted. “We don't know where the virus is. We won't know where the files on President Green are. Our assumption is that Jack secretly passed the virus and the stolen files to his widow.”

  Jacob flipped back to the front of the file and picked up a photo of a beautiful, blond headed woman, standing next to a smiling Jack Mayes. “Why the widow?” he asked, studying the face of Jessica Mayes. “The widow would be the first place Roger Alden would look. I'm surprised this woman hasn't been killed already.”

  “Wendy Cratterson has been assigned to watch the widow,” General Garcia confirmed. “Our 'ELE', the Earth Land Eye satellite, has been tracking Wendy Cratterson's movements.”

  Jacob put down the photo of Jessica and flipped back to the report, focusing on the virus Jack Mayes created. “Wendy Cratterson...yes,” he said, “I know her. Wendy is a woman who is hungry to rise up in the ranks. She worked with Senator Shelia Ammons before joining the CIA. If I'm not mistaken, Shelia Ammons is a vicious woman, who has managed to turn the entire state of California into one big mental hospital full of brain-dead puppets.”

  “Shelia Ammons used illegal immigration, welfare and socialized medicine to become popular with every loser polluting the bowels of America,” General Garcia responded in a sour voice. “That woman, if you can call her that, pushes abortion up to birth, free education for illegal immigrants, criminalizing free speech, the destruction of the American Constitution...” General Garcia had to clamp down on his mouth. “The older generation is dying off and the younger generation...”

  “Zombies,” Jacob spoke in a simple voice. “That's why they used the narrow margin that was allotted to us, and focused on people aged 30 and up. Statistics showed that Coldwell received seventy-eight percent of the votes from people 29 and under. I had to focus my attention of people who were concerned with job security, financial security, medical security, and retirement security. I hit states that were suffering economically from policies Throwman passed; which was about seventy-two percent of the states, and left the blue states alone.” Jacob read while he talked, memorizing every single detail tucked away inside the file. “Man, this virus is something else, assuming our guys are on target.”

  “We have some of the best minds in the country.”

  “The CIA has some of the best minds,” Jacob corrected General Garcia, “We have rookies, compared to the brains working for the CIA.”

  General Garcia frowned. He hated to admit that his men were ill-prepared against the minds working for the CIA; but the truth was, Jacob was right. “Our boys do their best.”

  Jacob slowly closed the file. He studied General Garcia with careful eyes. “I'm assuming Dad called this meeting because he wants to assign me to Jessica Mayes, right?”

  Before General Garcia could answer, the door to the meeting room opened. A man in his mid-sixties appeared, wearing a deep gray suit that matched his stone-like face. “The Vice-President has been delayed,” President Green spoke in a stern voice, as two men wearing black suits followed him into the meeting room. “I'm due to board Air Force One in forty minutes. We need to make this meeting quick.”

  General Garcia snapped to attention and waited for President Green to sit down across from his son. He had known the President since they were teenagers. Through the years, he had watched the President go from a teenager who almost died from numerous drug overdoses, to a man who had become a distinguished pilot in the Navy, and eventually moved on to begin his own nationwide glass company. And then, to everyone's surprise, at the age of fifty-four, becoming fed up with the corruption dirtying up the floors of the White House, the man had decided to jump into politics and get his feet wet. From there, his new political career took off like a raging wildfire, causing him to become despised by the very people who were attempting to destroy America. “Forty minutes, yes sir.”

  “My name is Edwin, Jose,” President Green complained. “We've known each other longer than my son has been alive, so knock off the military stuff, okay, and sit down.”

  General Garcia nodded his head, took a seat next to Jacob, and carefully slid a file across the table. “Your file.”

  “I'll read the contents later,” President Green assured General Garcia, and quickly focused his hard eyes on Jacob. “You read the report?”

  “I sure did,” Jacob nodded his head. “I have to say that what I read isn't uplifting. The virus alone, if our guys are right...if that virus--”

  “I know,” President Green told Jacob in an upset voice. He leaned forward, placed his hands together, and narrowed his eyes. “Our people in the CIA are reporting that Roger Alden is trying to recruit a man from China to take over Jack Mayes’ work. So far, the Chinese government, at my request, if refusing to let this man leave the country.”

  “That's risky, Dad.”

  “It's no secret that Roger Alden knows we have undercover agents,” General Garcia pointed out.

  “Maybe,” Jacob said in a worried voice, “but now that Dad has made it known he's aware of the CIA's new interest, Roger Alden will begin a ‘search and destroy’ quest.”

  “Roger Alden wants the virus that Jack Mayes created,” President Green pointed out. “While the 'Artificial Intelligence' is vital, the progress being made in that field is still far from being perfected. However, the virus...” President Green shook his head. “If the wrong people get their hands on that virus, they will control the global governments.”

  “You're telling me,” Jacob agreed. “Every election will be controlled without the public even being aware; without anyone being aware, for that matter. Germs like Roger Alden will have a field day, and alter the global power seemingly overnight.”

  President Green studied his son's intelligent and capable face. “Jacob, we have wet concrete up to our knees. Jack Mayes stole information about me that could destroy the White House. If Roger Alden gets that information, he'll destroy me. And, as if that isn't enough, we have a virus that can replicate any system in the world, camouflage itself, and have free access to secured information. Nothing connected to the internet is safe; not even the shadow internet that people like Roger Alden use.”

  “And at this point, we do not know the location of the stolen information or the virus,” General Garcia reported for a second time. “However, we believe that since Roger Alden is watching Jessica Mayes, it would be prudent if we do the same.”

  “Roger Alden is watching Jessica Mayes for a reason,” President Green insisted. “Our people at the CIA have reported that Roger Alden is insisting that Jessica Mayes has the stolen files. If the woman has the files, she must have the virus. However, Roger Alden has not mentioned the virus to anyone, as far as we know.” President Green checked a watch that had cost no more than two hundred dollars. “Jacob, your job is to fly to a Dalton, Georgia and--”

  “Mandy Overland's address is in the file, Dad,” Jacob pointed out. “I'm also aware that Wendy Cratterson is watching Jessica Mayes.”

  “Good,” President Green nodded his head, content that Jacob was the man for the job. “Numerous attempts to hack the ELE satellite have taken place. I'm worried that the satellite will eventually be hacked and taken down, making us blind. People over at the Pentagon are reporting that the Military Earth Tracking satellite is under attack. Son, we're at war, and it appears that Jessica Mayes is the prize.”

  Jacob wasn't so sure. “Dad, if Jessica Mayes was the prize, why would Roger Alden send a low-grade piece of cheese like Wendy Cratterson to watch her?” he asked as his mind began to search for other possible options. “Could it be Roger Alden is deliberately trying to make us look left, when we need to look right?”

  “I've considered that option, Son,” President Green answered in a worried voice. “However, right now, we have absolutely no other leads. Jessica Mayes must be our main focus right now.”

  “Yeah, the woman could have something, but maybe not what Roger Alden wants?” Jacob rubbed his chin, opened the file on the table, took out Jessica's
photo, and studied it. “A woman who quit teaching and began writing children's books, married a genius, and is now hiding out in Georgia with her sister.”

  President Green checked his watch again. “I have to leave,” he said in an urgent voice. “Jose, make sure my son has everything he needs.”

  Jacob glanced up at his dad. “What time frame are we looking at?” he asked.

  “Son,” President Green answered, in a deeply grieved and concerned voice, “I wish I knew. Right now, Roger Alden and I are in a race, but I fear we're both running blind. My gut is telling me the man doesn't have a clue where to look, and neither do I. Jessica Mayes is our only option.”

  Jacob nodded his head. “Okay, then, it looks like I'm going to Dalton, Georgia,” he said, as he stood up, reached across the table, and shook his dad's hand. “I know if I fail, America will fall, Dad. I understand the game and I understand the risk. I promise to do everything within my power to win.”

  President Green stared into his son's face, offered a confident nod, and left the meeting room.

  ((((((((((*))))))))))

  “Please eat,” Mandy urged her distraught sister. “You nibbled on your Chick-Fil-A, and that was hours ago. You need to eat, Jessie. Please.”

  Jessica lowered her eyes to a round kitchen table, covered with a brownish-white colored table cloth with little peppermints sewn into the material. The table cloth was meant to compliment a gingerbread-style kitchen that was clinging to the year 1967. On any other day, Jessica would have found the kitchen, and the delicious vegetable beef stew Mandy had cooked, wonderful—especially the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that were being served with the stew—but her heart and stomach were not interested in food. For the sake of Mandy, however, she took a small bite of stew and washed it down with hot coffee. “I wish it would quit raining,” she complained, feeling cold, even though the kitchen was warm and toasty. “Rain...gray rain...funeral rain...”