Last War (37 page)

    
“You’re really gonna sit here and have a conversation with my mind?”

     “No. I’m turning it off now. Just give it some time, Cyzra. You’ll get it all back. What else they don’t know about the chip is that with the correct
training, it will make you a genius of all geniuses. We’re gonna need it.”

     “How?”

     “The chip allows us to store more recallable memories. It also takes work off of the cerebral cortex. We both needed this.”

     “So, why this way, Jason? Why couldn’t we just put the chips in me ourselves?”

     “I’ve had this chip in me since 1995. By now, I’m very much so the most intelligent man in the world. You hear me? And let me tell you this: I’ve learned that obstacles come standard with life and that principle is stationary. The best way to accomplish the most, is to include the known obstacles into your conspiracy. What happened needed to happen the way it did in the entire scheme of things. It was a plan I had forged before I knew who would do it; before I knew I’d ever have to do it. There’s no way to break into those meetings. You were going to get caught any way we looked at it. Now, they’re under the impression that they’ve done something to their advantage, and we got what we needed.” 

     “I never thought this would be so hard.
” Czyra said. “Are we the only people with this chip?”

    
“No. People, believe it or not, do it recreationally. Some are members to certain clubs – grocery stores, nightclubs, movie channels, you name it. – they get chipped in a sort of reverse direct deposit kinda way. For them, it’s about not having to fuss around for your wallet anymore. All of your important info is easily accessible. No one can steal your credit card or identity. And yeah, you knew it’d be the hardest thing you’ve ever faced. For four years, while I was gone, you took on that challenge. What you didn’t know was that it’d be this intense. Or that you’d be this scared.” He patted Czyra on the back. “You’re doing good. We’re almost there. We’ve got F.A.I.T.H. Now, we’ve gotta follow this through. I sense a war on the horizon.”  



DHS Headquarters: St. Elizabeths Anacostia,      Southeast Washington, D.C
.     

    
Despite endless attempts, the photo Michael had hung up on his wall would not straighten. Every position he lined his furniture up inside of his new office would not sit well with him. His office inside the new headquarters was too big, and he didn’t have enough furniture to stuff into it.

    
There wasn’t enough time to worry about that, anyway. The enemy was back. Somehow, Michael knew Jason was involved, too.

     Grambling
stepped into the doorway with a light knock on the solid wooden door. “Knock, knock.” He said.

     “Hey.” Grambling
had a young woman with him. “What’s up?” Michael asked stepping away from the wall towards the door.

     “I have a new agent for you to take under your wing. She’s going to assist you ta
ke head of this.” Grambling gestured the girl into the office. “Sonya, this is our Acting Secretary of Homeland Security, Michael Young. He’ll be heading this operation in keeping an eye on this particular dangerous subject.”

     The two shook hands and greeted.

     “He’s a good guy and one of the smartest men we have in the department.” Grambling said.

     He
focused his attention towards Michael. “What’s the latest on the subject?” He asked.

     Michael took a brisk walk over to his desk and rolled his chair back so that he coul
d stand over his computer. “Looks like he’s about two-thirds in transit on a flight from Vancouver to New York City.”

     “Do all the agencies know about this?
C.I.A.? F.B.I.? FAA? NEADS?” Grambling asked.

     “I did let them know. Yes.”

     “Alright, well, keep me briefed. I’m gonna leave Sonya here with you and you can catch her up.”

     “Okie doke.”

     As Grambling walked out, the petite olive-skinned girl walked a couple aimless steps into the room with her books clutched to her chest. Her medium length hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a business casual skirt and grey heels.

     “You’re brand new to this, aren’t you? Like, fresh out of school yesterday?”

     “I’ve been doing this for long enough.” She said.

     “How long of work experience?”

     “Not years. I just graduated and I worked booth YRS as an analyst over at the NSA.”

     “YRS? Really?”

     The girl grinned.

     “My best friend used to run that station. So, you’re good, huh?”

     “Otherwise, why would they send me over here?”

     “OK. Well, this is kind of important; as I’m sure you’ve been told. America is going to change forever in less than a month. This post wil
l be set up to watch the single-most dangerous subject to this operation. Really, you’re running the show as far as the legwork. I’ll be overseeing and doing it all with you, but there will be times I’ll have to fulfill other duties, as well. So, I’m going to need you to be the most thorough person in this entire operation.”

     “Is this the station?” She asked staring at the desk by the window.

     “Yes. That’s your spot.”

     “I’m ready to get to work
, sir.” She said immediately marching over to the desk. “What’s his name, what’s his background? What are we looking for and what are his tendencies?”

     “Well, his profile will be in the system. Type ‘YU83oi989’. That’
ll get you in. Finger-print, iris scan, the usual – then you’re logged in. First thing you’ll see is his name in bold over top of everything else in his profile. You’ll have access to the drones and satellites assigned to him, as well.”

     “How do you say that?”

     “’Zy-rah’. The C is silent.”

     “He’s a terrorist?”

     “He’s known to have attempted a couple of bomb plots and has conjured up a group of millions that oppose the U.S. Government. So, yes. He has a lot of resources and he’s very smart.”

     “We have him chipped?”

     “Yes. He’s newly chipped.”

     “You’re making my job easier
, already.”

     “Alright. I’ve gotta run. I’ll be back. Study up, and get what you can about him. I have a hunch his trip to New York is anything but
a leisurely vacation.”



    
Brooklyn, New York City

    
Czyra and Jason had been back in NYC for a few days. Operation F.A.I.T.H. contained protocol in how to deal with post 9/11 culture. They had read it over and discussed it for hours on end. “Hey, kid. Now that we’re here, it’s time to get back to action. I’m gonna need you, for now, to get back to your normal life while I go do what we said I’d do.”

     “I have the most minimal of memory right now, and you want to run off?”
Czyra asked.

    
“Czyra. We have no time. You read the objective of Operation F.A.I.T.H. You have your memory card. Scan it daily – it’s programed with what you need. So, take that and do what you do: let the people know. It’s gonna turn up from here.”

     “Tell me how bad it’s going to get.”

     Jason’s uncertainty met at a crossroads with his gut feeling. “Son, you and I could very well be America’s next al-Qaeda.”

    
The sounds of airplanes, cars and chatter filled a silence between Jason and Czyra.

     “Are you not up for that? I mean, I could be wrong, I’m not perfect.”

     “I don’t know. This is all getting really tough.”

     “Stand up for truth. That’s what you tell your followers, right? Don’t back down. You want to be a revolutionist? As we speak, the American defense system is probably building an entire watch center to contain you.”

     “What about you?”

     “Well, me too. But,
last night when I scanned my chip, a thought crossed my mind that there’s a possibility I’m still on the inside with them.”

     “What? How could that be?”

     “I don’t know. Let’s just trust the feeling. I’m going to make it my aim to get back on the inside. It’ll just be you to direct the people we’ve accumulated on the outside for the next couple weeks. You’ve got to prepare the people for domestic war.”

     “Will you be back?”

     “Of course I will. I don’t know when, but I’m going to need your folks to help end this all. When it comes down to it, you’re my army.”

     “Well, what’s next? F.A.I.T.H. just tells us what they’ve done to get us here. We don’t know what’s next.”

     “I have an idea, but that’s what I’m going to go figure out.”

     Jason handed Czyra an envelope. “Everything you need in there to get back to D.C. and
do your part to is in there. We will be in touch. You have contacts in your eyes, keep them in. Those glasses are essential to our communication, too. Wear them at all times.”

     Jason hiked up his backpack as Jason continued.
“Inside that envelope is money, bus tickets and a Metrocard. I’ll talk to you soon, Czy. No fears. Revolution is happening and you’re right in the middle of it all. Go rally the troops; get them ready.” 



     Staring, dazed at the glowing blue conference room wall in the brand new DHS headquarters facility on St. Elizabeths Hospital’s old campus in Anacostia, Michael wondered how the people of America would receive Project S.A.F.E.’s proceeding.

     “Sirus, what’s the president’s approval rating?”
A woman’s computer voice echoed through the room, in response.

     “Hello, Secretary, the president’s approval rating is currently at 55 percent.”

     The new DHS HQ building was fully equipped with everything needed to get his job done. It was perfect. It was almost like he didn’t have to move a finger. Part of the department’s move was anchored around Jason’s departure. Most didn’t feel safe anymore losing a man of his stature. Moving gave them the upperhand.

    
Grambling’s voice echoed from behind Michael at the at the head of the conference table. “Where are the others?” he asked. His voice startled Michael.

     “
I didn’t see you come in – I don’t know where they are -- how should I know?”

     “More awareness has to be employed. These are times we have to be crisp. We could possibly have one of the best agents the world’s ever seen and that snot-nosed little rascal
and their group of wild patrons running around here striking us from all sides.  We’ve got to be vigilant and precise.”

     There was a silence as
Grambling plopped his briefcase onto the oak table.

    
Michael’s phone rang. It was Sonya. “Sir, I see something interesting. Do you have a minute?”

     “What is it?”

     “It seems as if there’s another chipped, monitored and flagged person who has been tagging along with Czyra the last few days. The code is very high on this guy.”

     “Send the info
to my handheld. Thanks.”

     As the rest of the defense department trickled into the room, Sonya’s information transferred onto Michael’s tablet. Because he had to decode the signal to see the info, he knew it was Jason’s information. Michael hadn’t synchronized Jason’s complete info into Sonya’s system. Something had moved him to take preemptive action, and tread lightly. “Thanks, Sonya. I’ll be in there before lunch.”

     Jason was up to something.   

     Just as he was brainstorming, his cellphone vibrated in his lap
.

::Call from Jason Upton – Accept?::
 



XXVIII

CURRENT HOMELAND SECURITY ADVISORY SYSTEM: RED —EXTREME TERRORIST RISK

New Jersey Transit, NJ

12:00p.m.

     Jason watched out of his window as the train glided on tracks under him. The passing scenery of trees and neighborhoods hypnotized him into deep thoughts. He had so much to accomplish in such little time. The only way he’d be able to get back into the fold was through Michael.

     Without thinking, he hit speed dial on his phone
. The phone rang a flurry of times before the earpiece sent through muffled sounds of garble, and someone speaking off in the background. The background noise faded and a heavy door clunked closed before complete silence intersected Michael’s voice.

     “Jason?
”

     “Mike.”

     “What are you doing? You’re going to have to make this good because they’re tracking you, you know? I’m in a very crucial meeting right now, and I’m going to have to take this back to them.”

     “I know. But, that’s perfect.
I just wanted to let you know I’m coming back to D.C. now.”

     “For what? We’re going to kill you.”

     “No. I have some information to bring back to you folks on your main objectors of Operation F.A.I.T.H.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Over the last 5 years, we’ve been opposed with propaganda from a huge online group of people -- protesters. They call themselves, ‘Unknown’. They’re hacktivists. Remember I was assigned to infiltrate and break down? Well, a lot of them double as other real life groups, as well. ‘True patriots’, ‘truthers’ and probably the most dangerous of the radicals: ‘The New Militia’ and a host of other things. They’ve long delayed and disrupted our biggest plans. It was going to happen again, Mike. The New Militia is actually planning a terror attack against the U.S. government any day now. So, against all of you, and against the odds, I had to make myself an outcast and a ‘whistleblower’ to get what I got from them.”

     “What did you get?”

     “Their plans. Their trust. Their following.”

     “Where are you at right now?”

     “Princeton Junction on Amtrak. I’ll be in D.C. in four hours.”

     “OK. What do you want me to do?”

     “Let the administration in on what I’ve just told you, and tell them I’m on my way now. I want to speak to them.”



12:15 p.m.

     Michael returned into the meeting where Josh Grambling was speaking on the beginning of Operation S.A.F.E.

    
Grambling was discussing the importance of keeping the entire operation sterile; no forced variables introduced.

     “Everything should go as planned.
I’m gonna be at the White House for the remainder of this operation, so it’s imperative that you folks listen to Michael Young.” He said as Michael returned to his seat at the left side of the oval table.

     “Is everything OK, Mr. Young?”

     “Actually, what you’re saying may not be possible.”

     “Oh?”

     “That was Jason.” The entire team froze in their current motions and looked towards Michael.

     “We have a few routes we can take: He said he’s coming to see us, so we can use this opportunity to once and for all get rid of him, we can detain him, or –
bear with me, here, folks -- he said he’s got some info for us that will help with the operation.”

    
Grambling shook his head. “Now, how dumb do you think I look? I thought I told you that we’re not going to introduce any new variables.”

     “He may not have ever been an old one. I mean, what has he done to us except r
un? He hasn’t killed any of us. He hasn’t spilled any info to jeopardize our plans. He’s stayed very silent this whole time. He’s known about F.A.I.T.H., and she set off the alarms three years ago cause it was necessary that us chasing him looked real to the folks he’d be gathering info from. There’s something more here, sir. I think we do best to look into it.”

    
Grambling screwed his lips before responding. “OK. What can he do for us? Let’s see. We need proof.”

     “I’ll get him on the phone now.”

     Michael dialed Jason’s number. Restlessness unraveled in the boardroom through the silence of Michael’s phone ringing on speaker phone. “Hey, Jay. It’s Mike. Is this a secure line? The guys need to speak to you now. We’re running low on time and we need to know for sure you’ve got us.”

     “Yes, all of my lines are secure.”

     Michael sat the phone on the table. “OK. Fellas, how’s it going?” Jason greeted. “It has been a long time. I’m sorry to have put you all through this but it had to be done. This group ‘Unknown’ has grown to outnumber us, probably, double to triple-time. Who knows the exact number? Not even they do. But, it’s millions; millions of people from doctors, lawyers, hackers, IT technicians, foreign government officials, and even our own members in the U.S. government. They hail from 600 different countries around the world. They have no nation, they have no purpose, and they seek to rebel where ever they can. We’ve been sabotaged by them before, and we can’t afford to have it happen again. Not with this. They know all about this plan, and they’re prepared to destroy it, they’ve struck up a plan that you’ll never be able to stop without me. even if it costs everything. This could be our last war. But, we needed someone on the inside;  I had to convince them – I had to be that guy. I’ve done it. I lead them. We’ve got them all in our palms now.”

     “How do we know this?”

     “Last week in Vancouver? That was me. I’ve got your documents here in my hand, unharmed and safe. They trust me, we’ve got their leader chipped, and we’ve got them right where we want them.”

     “So that’s what your unnecessary running was about?”

     “Yes. I’m at Princeton Junction. I’ll be there in about four hours. I’ll need to speak to you all ASAP and discuss our next moves.”  

     “Welcome back, Jason.”

     “Thank you, sir. I’m not sure how I feel about you folks thinking I’d associate myself with terrorists.”

    
“Well, we—“ The phone went dead just as Michael attempted to respond. One of the officials in the meeting asked, “You’re going to let him back in just like that?”

     “
Not in a million years.” Grambling said without looking the official’s way. “He’s at Princeton Junction, folks. I think we need to catch up with him.”

     “But, sir…
he’s with us.” Michael interjected.

     “Don’t
‘but sir’ me. I know he is. He’s done his part, however, and the next necessary step is to get rid of him. I’m sending an agent, right now.”



Washington D.C.

2:32p.m.

     Czyra called an emergency meeting on his video channel. He sat behind a old wooden teacher’s desk in the backroom of the auditorium he held all of the group’s speeches at preparing to go live. Firing up his camera, it was finally time to call all of his followers up to arms. He watched on the wall behind him as the countdown to live broadcast dwindled from 3 to 1.

     “Ladies and gentlemen, patriots, hacktivists and all Americans who are ready to take a stand against our corrupt, broken
, system, we have finally got the chance to stand up against the oppressor.” He shouted. “We have members high up on the inside prepared to back our stance. Gather your arms, gather your masks, and everyone within the means fly out to Washington D.C. For we shall take our stance.”

     Czyra felt goosebumps. This was the first time he was actually calling his followers to real action, with some sort of hope for change.

“If you hack we need you to pull out your best viruses. We’ll need to be prepared to shut the entire city down. Surely, there will be military police armed and ready to fight. We will need nerds and brutes to work in unison. For those of you who live close, meet me here at the auditorium. For it’s time to put a close to Operation F.A.I.T.H. It’s a document that is prepared to dull down the biggest other thing that compromises patriotism: Our personal beliefs – or in other words, in one word: religion.  This is not freedom. This is more of the same – oppression. So, starting tonight, we prepare to confront the U.S. government, and their elite and demand they put this operation in the trash. If they don’t – we’ll be prepared for war.”

    
Czyra clicked off the recording feed and sat back in his seat. He was wondering how intense the confrontation was going to get. There was no way of telling.

     Off in the distance behind him, just outside of the door, he heard footsteps sprinting on the floor towards his room.

     He clutched his gun.

    
A member of The New Militia bursted into the door, “Czyra! Turn on the news!”

     Czyra quickly dropped his gun on the desk and turned on his TV. A few more officials for Czyra’s militia rushed into the room.

     The news was live on scene of a train accident. A train from NYC to D.C. had hopped off track, just beyond Trenton, leaving very few survivors.

     The reporter continued,
“The most prominent death, was identified as former DHS Deputy Secretary, Jason Upton. He was survived by his wife, Christine Upton…”

     Rage was all Czyra could feel
. Without thought, anger surged through his arms banging his fist into the his file cabinets. The sting from the tin files went, immediately, numb. All of his emotion from his stomach through his chest out in one loud holler. “I hate them!” He screamed. “Let’s go kill them all. You ready? No peaceful demonstration about it. Get the grenades, get the weapons. Someone send a messenger to the Baltimore Aquarium. Jason left military grade weapons there for us. If this goes down, I’m making sure they’re going to have to kill a lot more American civilians to get what they want. And they’re going to have to do it out in the open – on the streets.”