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Authors: Bobby Akart

BOOK: Cyber Attack
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“I agree. Let’s get on with it.”

The two men abruptly grabbed the pallet to which Ferdl was bound and dropped it to the floor. Then they elevated it slightly so his feet were above his head. Ferdl’s eyes stared wildly and he thrashed his head back and forth.

Steven grabbed a small towel and soaked it in a bucket of water. He looked up at Slash and nodded. Steven looked into Ferdl’s eyes while covering his nose and mouth with the soaked towel. Slash began slowly pouring water over the towel from about twelve inches away. This continuous application of water lasted for about twenty seconds until Steven removed the towel.

Ferdl gasped for air and flailed uncontrollably.


Nein, nein
!
Bitte
!”

Steven reapplied the towel and the process continued. Waterboarding was first used during the fifteenth century. The Spanish Inquisition, instituted by Catholic Monarchs in Spain, was intended to ensure converts to the faith of Christianity from Judaism and Islam remained true to their new Christian faith. A similar technique to waterboarding was just one of the many tools used by the Monarchy. Simply burning heretics at the stake was a more favored option.

After the fifth round lasting nearly forty seconds, it appeared Herr Ferdl was ready to provide some answers. Steven turned on the voice recorder of his iPhone to insure accuracy. He uploaded the recording to Control and awaited further instructions. He and Slash walked out of earshot of Ferdl.

“I don’t care what they say,” said Sharpie. “That waterboarding shit works.”

“Yeah. The fear of getting killed is a terrifying experience,” said Steven. “They used to train the SEALs on how to survive waterboarding. They had to stop because the SEALs couldn’t pass it. And that was in a controlled environment. Make no mistake, waterboarding isn’t simulated drowning—
it is drowning
.”

“Let’s get out of here,” said Sharpie. As the men walked back to Ferdl, he appeared to have passed out.

“Let’s go, Ferdl. Party’s over,” said Steven. Ferdl was unresponsive. Steven leaned down and felt for a pulse. “Fuck me. He’s dead. Heart attack maybe.”

“Good, pedophile deserves it!” said Slash. “What are we gonna do with the fat fuck?”

Steven called Control with the sitrep. The intel they received from Ferdl was accurate. Good news. They wanted his body taken back to Der Junge Haus. Bad news.

“That cesspool will be crawling with
Stadtpolizei
,” said Slash. “Let’s just take him to his car. Dump his dumb ass there.”

“Too risky,” said Steven. Steven summoned Bugs and Sharpie from outside.

“What happened to him?” asked Bugs.

“Too much bockwurst,” replied Slash.

“Wasn’t there a park not too far back?” asked Steven.

“Yeah, about halfway,” replied Bugs.

“Let’s dump him on a park bench with his pants around his ankles,” said Slash. “He deserves it.”

“With his pecker hangin’ out?” asked Sharpie.

“Why the hell not? He won’t need it anymore.”

 

Chapter 20

May 26, 2016

100 Beacon

Boston, Massachusetts

 

Sarge rode up the elevator with a sense of relief after an extremely hectic semester. He posted grades today and was pleased with everyone’s performance. He was coming into his own as an educator, both within the Harvard confines as well as on the speaking circuit. His book,
Choose Freedom or Capitulation, America’s Sovereignty Crisis
, was a
New York Times
best seller for four consecutive months and Sarge was in high demand for speaking engagements. His publicist was now earning him a lucrative fee as well as high-quality travel arrangements. He scheduled a few trips with Julia in mind and he hoped she could accompany him.

He hated being apart from her. Over the last six months, since that fun evening at Stephanie’s in December, they were inseparable. She moved in with Sarge—but not just in a
this is your dresser drawer
sort of way. He loved her very much and needed her even more. He wanted to make this permanent and contemplated marriage all the time.
I guess it will happen when the time is right.

As the doors opened to the Great Hall, he was immediately struck with the smell of braised beef and George Gershwin’s
An American in Paris
. Julia was pulling out all of the stops tonight, including the stunning black cocktail dress.
What did I forget
?

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” announced Sarge. “Sargent, party of two?”

“Come here and kiss me, smartass,” said Julia. She wrapped her arms around him while he struggled to hold the bags of produce she requested from Whole Foods. “I missed you today.”

“I see that. I love you and missed you too. School’s out for the summer and I’m all yours. Well, mostly.”

“How ’bout some wine?” asked Julia. “I popped open a bottle of Beaujolais.”

Sarge nodded as Julia poured the glass. He set the grocery bags on the island.

“Listen, I am a boy and forgetful about certain things,” said Sarge.

“Like what things?” asked Julia teasingly.

Oh shit, what did I forget?
“You know,
couple things
that men tend to forget but women always remember.”

“Relax, Sarge, I knew you wouldn’t remember what today is, but I did. I won’t hold that against you as long as you hold me against you.”

“Deal! What did I forget?” he asked.

“Ten years ago today, we had our first date. Do you remember now?” asked Julia.

“Of course I do, darling. John Morgan invited us to the Garden of Flags event on Boston Common and he sat us next to each other for dinner in his home that night.”

Every Memorial Day weekend, the Massachusetts Military Heroes organization planted a garden of thirty-seven thousand flags in front of the Soldiers and Sailors Monument on Boston Common to commemorate the service members from Massachusetts who gave their lives to defend the United States. Morgan had a private dinner at his home that evening. Sarge and Julia were seated next to each other at the table. This event came towards the end of Sarge’s relationship with Abbie and it was obvious Morgan was nudging Sarge in Julia’s direction.

Sarge continued. “That seems like a long time ago. I always wondered if Morgan had an ulterior motive.”

“He always has an ulterior motive, as do I, Henry,” said Julia, using his given name. She bowed and handed him his glass of wine.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Lady Hawthorne.”

Julia emptied the contents of the Whole Foods bag and looked perplexed.

“Whole Foods wasn’t able to confiscate your
whole paycheck
this time?”

“No. In fact, it was eerie,” replied Sarge. “The shelves were bare and the produce department was decimated. One of the employees told me their produce trucks were not running on a regular schedule.”

“I’ll call DeLuca’s on Newbury Street and have them deliver what I need,” said Julia.

“Don’t bother. I drove by DeLuca’s, but they closed early.”

“Who is buying up all the food, Sarge?”

“I think it’s a matter of why aren’t they producing more food,” he replied.

“We discussed this in the editorial meeting today. Listen to this. The drought conditions in California are beyond severe, especially around Sacramento. Governor Brown ordered the national guard to raid a family farming operation in the San Joaquin Valley.”

“Why?” asked Sarge.

“The farmer was accused of using well water for his crops in violation of the governor’s mandated water restrictions,” replied Julia. “According to the governor’s directive, farmers are prohibited from over-pumping the wells for irrigation purposes. Based upon an EPA study, the value of the crops produced is insignificant to the damage caused to the environment by over-pumping. Before the EPA could issue its own regulations, California acted quickly to create its own mandated restrictions.”

“What happened?”

“These reports are being suppressed by the media, but the man stood his ground and refused the National Guard access to his land. He was holding a flag and stated he was a patriot. His family stood behind him, shouting at the guardsmen. According to reports, a guardsman ordered the farmer to get on the ground because he was under arrest. When the farmer began waving his flag instead, they shot him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No. It gets worse. The National Guard, with the assistance of the Bureau of Land Management, confiscated the crops, arrested the remaining family members, and seized the land under federal forfeiture provisions.”

As Julia fixed them a small salad, Sarge made his way to the windows overlooking the Charles River. This story was troubling on many levels. The government was halting food production in favor of saving the environment? Moreover, the full force of the military was used to arrest a farmer, confiscate his crops and seize his land because he used the water
under his land
to
irrigate his crops
.
If this isn’t tyranny, what is
?

“Sarge?”

“Okay,” replied Sarge. “Let’s not talk about the rest of the world. I like ours right here, right now, just fine.”

Julia used her best French hostess voice. “Monsieur, this will be an enchanting evening featuring a refreshing salad, braised beef and a dessert that will be, shall I say, breathtaking.”

“I like anniversaries.”

 

PART TWO

 

Chapter 21

June 2, 2016

100 Beacon

Boston, Massachusetts

 

“What are they building in the fire escape?” asked Steven as he exited the elevator.

Sarge was intently watching the television monitors as Steven spoke. “I have them reinforcing the access doors to our floors and putting bars on the inside of the fire escape windows,” replied Sarge as he studied the various news reports. Sarge felt Steven staring at him.

“Are you expecting zombies, bro?” asked Steven.

“No, but have you noticed the way people are acting?”

“Yeah, they’re going bat-shit crazy,” replied Steven. “I guess it makes sense. What about the windows on the street level?”

“The Boston Historical Society wouldn’t approve it,” replied Sarge. “It wasn’t
consistent with the period
. They’re sheep.”

“What’s the latest?” asked Steven. Sarge wished his brother would pay more attention to the news, but then Steven’s job was more
executioner
than planner.

“It’s hard to find any good news,” replied Sarge. “The economy’s tanking. The recession numbers are far worse than the sugarcoated version Washington feeds us. Farmers can’t afford to produce crops and grocers can’t stock their shelves. Food distribution channels are totally disrupted due to the cost of fuel. Our economy is built on consumption. Americans have lost their consumer confidence and retail is suffering for it.”

“I saw some of the same in Europe last month,” said Steven. “It’s more than confidence. People are angry, on edge.”

“World governments have lost the ability to control their economies. After the Eurozone collapsed, the bond market sank with it. Believe it or not, the Greek default is exactly what they wanted. What they did not want is Spain and Italy to default at the same time. Now there is a void in southern Europe and Russia is ready to fill in the financial gaps. They have already bailed out Greece by reaching a natural gas distribution agreement, which further destroys Ukraine’s economy.”

“What does all of this mean for the United States?”

“The world’s economies are interrelated,” replied Sarge. “It’s sort of like a codependent relationship. The world has tolerated our deficit spending while we tolerate bad actors getting away with agendas contrary to our national security. Every nation is circling the wagons around their own self-interests and the global house of cards could collapse at any time.”

“When does it hit the fan?” asked Steven.

“I don’t know. We’re one catastrophic event away from a collapse,” said Sarge.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you seen the huge increases in cyber attacks?” asked Sarge.

“Yeah. They’re increasing in frequency and magnitude.”

“They’re testing the fences, like the velociraptors in the first
Jurassic Park
movie,” said Sarge. “State-sponsored hackers are rifling through our government files. They are manipulating financial transactions. There have been rolling blackouts of the power grid. They have successfully hijacked airplanes. There is no limit. So far there has not been a coordinated attack, but it could come without warning.”

“I agree,” said Steven. “So what are we doing about it?”

“Other nations are preparing, but I don’t know if our politicians are ready. Look at the price of gold, for example.”

“It’s skyrocketing,” said Steven.

“Exactly. China is moving towards a gold-backed yuan. They are repatriating record amounts of gold—three hundred twenty tonnes in the last month. If the Chinese successfully adopt a traditional gold standard, the price of gold would increase exponentially. Their currency would be deemed more reliable as a reserve currency than the dollar. Honestly, at this point, there is very little we can do to deter Russia and China from their economic machinations other than a hot war.”

“Great,” said Steven. “I used to think these power-broker games between politicians and the super wealthy was above my pay grade, but I think I’m wrong about that.”

“How so?”

“My last three missions for Aegis have been
questionable
,” replied Steven. “You know I’m a good soldier, and if the boss wants something done, I won’t refuse him.”

“I know the feeling,” interrupted Sarge.

“When I look at the results of Ukraine, Switzerland, and now Frankfurt, I begin to wonder if there is a national interest at stake or am I just a well-paid hit man. You follow this stuff more than I do. What’s the boss up to?”

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