The Gillespie Five (A Political / Conspiracy Novel) - Book 1 (42) (31 page)

Chapter Sixty-Six

(Two weeks after Gillespie's suicide)

Charles Gillespie stacked his notes nervously on his lap.  The last several days had been an unexpected whirlwind in which his family had been tossed around as if they were no more than leaves.  But today, that would all change. 

As he waited for the introduction, he thought back on the previous week's meetings with the family.  Everything he had dared hope for and thought would never be possible, was now happening.  Finally, with his cousin's death he was out from underneath the great Mitchell Gillespie's shadow. 

He could hardly believe that the man designated as the heir apparent to the presidency, as if it were a birth right, had crumbled like a weakling under the mess he had created, and then killed himself.   After years of being fed spoonful after spoonful of his cousin's praises, Charles had struggled to believe that Gillespie had actually taken his own life.  That was until he read what his cousin had written before his death.  Now he had no doubt that Gillespie had done it.  Gillespie proved in his note that he was a man hungry for power, caught up in the grief of having lost his wife and willing to do whatever it took to become the next president.  Exactly what he had been groomed for his entire life.  In retrospect, Charles could
almost
feel some sympathy for his cousin.  Almost.

But he
could
feel a certain amount of poetic justice.  With his passing, Gillespie had left Charles a clear path to the presidency, the
last
person Gillespie would have seen in office.  The golden boy was gone, nothing but a coward in the end.  Their grandfather would have spit on his grave had he still been alive. 

Charles realized he was almost smiling and quickly turned it into, what he hoped looked like, grief as he stepped up to the podium. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the press, thank you for attending today." 

He looked up, radiating sincerity and grief before looking down at his notes.  He shuffled them a few times before finally setting them down.  Looking at his audience, with practiced candor, he began without the notes.

"Senator Gillespie, my-my cousin, killed himself two weeks ago and, Friday, we buried him."

He swallowed a lump in his throat that did not exist and reached for the glass of water on his podium.  After taking a few sips he apologized and continued, just as he had rehearsed for the last several days.

"As you are all aware by now from the letters, emails and other coverage, my cousin – with the help of others – committed a heinous act against five innocent American citizens. The depth of what he has done is still now being revealed."

He took another breath, surveying his audience before continuing.  He couldn't tell yet if he had them. 

"We had warning signs after his wife's death.  But truly no idea of the depth of his grief, or his obsessive desire to win the presidency.  That is, not until we read his suicide note."

The press began to murmur, whispers speeding through the group like an oncoming wave.  There had been rumors about a suicide note but they had not been confirmed until now. 

"We will, of course, be releasing it to the public once the authorities have completed their investigation.  Though it pains me to do so, we feel that it is important to us and to the families affected that they know. "

"My family sends its sincerest apologies to the five innocents and we will
personally
see that they have whatever aid we can provide as they move past this terrible moment in their lives.  We mourn with you, not knowing how a great and well-loved man who once served his country bravely, could have fallen so far.  They tell me there are times when we need to stop and listen to those around us more, especially when they have suffered." 

He swallowed hard, looking down as he continued, "I wish our family had done that for Mitchell.  Maybe we could have saved him."

The press waited politely as he composed himself.  When he looked up, seeing both compassion and curiosity, he knew he had them.  He almost smiled.

"What he was trying to do was the right thing.  But in the wrong way.  And while we still believe that hackers pose a real and present danger to this and other nations, we need to remember that this is
still
America and we have our rights.  People matter, and those that pursue justice against the people who would steal our identities, sell our country's secrets and worse, must remember those rights.  This should not become a witch hunt or be used as a step to push someone into power." 

The echo of his fist pounding the podium faded into the audience.

Taking a moment to look as many people in the eye as he could, he finished quietly with, "I only hope that what my cousin
did
do right in his life, all of the good acts, will live on, and not just the memory of his final days.  Thank you."

Quickly, he stepped off the stage, ignoring the questions thundering after him.  When he saw his father's face, he knew he had accomplished exactly what they had planned and painted a picture of a grieving man who had lost his way.  When the suicide note was released, it would only further serve to show how Barrett and others had used the weakness they’d found in Gillespie to push him into this scheme.  Thus exonerating the family.  In a few weeks the public would be feeling sympathy for the family so grievously betrayed.  In months, the public would have forgotten all but those names the family wanted them to remember.

Chapter Sixty-Seven

(Six months later)

Alex sat in front of triple monitors at his home desk, the news playing on the television in the background.  Though it seemed like a lifetime had passed since their release, he was still dealing with the paper work.  It seemed the questions never ended.  Or changed.  He wondered if the pencil pushers sending the paper work thought that he, or anyone else in the group, would change their story if they just kept asking.  He gazed at the words in front of him, not seeing them.

Five minutes ago he had gotten off a phone call with his nephew.  Tommy had sounded better than he had in a while, but still not like himself.  Ken and Karen had assured Alex that everything was fine, and that they would probably be back from their extended European vacation with Tommy in a few weeks.  They had also mentioned that the counselors they had taken Tommy to had given them good reports.  He no longer awoke screaming. 

Tommy still hadn't decided on when he would return to school but the question of whether he would go back, had been answered at least.  He had decided just two weeks before that he not only wanted to go back but he wanted to figure out a way to help make sure that what had happened to him wouldn't happen to anyone else.  That he had such an ambition was at least something to give them hope.

"…reports say Barrett's suffered a severe heart attack while under federal detention..."

Alex turned his attention to the TV, turning up the volume.

"Barrett was a key player in the high profile scandal surrounding the Gillespie Five just a few months ago.  Taking advantage of what we now know was a serious mental issue with Gillespie, Barrett and several key FBI agents initiated the kidnapping and torture of innocent American citizens in an attempt to stop hacking.  Now that Barrett is gone, investigators are unsure if they will ever recover all the details behind the scandal that rocked the nation just a few months ago.  Despite the sheer breech of American rights, the scandal did bring to light the seriousness of what hackers could do and an awareness that new laws and security measures
-
"

Alex he turned the TV off.  He was still dealing with all the new measures put in place during the hack attacks a few months ago, and was not happy with the pattern he was seeing in the restriction of access.  He was also unhappy that the man whose actions had caused so much harm to his nephew had escaped so easily.  And with so many unanswered questions.

When the news had come out on how much money Barrett had received for what he’d done, there had been another uproar.  Who were his backers?  What were they trying to do?  And what were they planning next?  These were among the many questions investigators had been asking Barrett, trying their best to trace the money back to its source when Barrett wouldn't answer. 

And then the money had just disappeared.  Millions gone in seconds.   A few hacker groups claimed responsibility, saying the government didn't deserve the money any more than Barrett had.  But that hadn't really sat well with Alex who had been monitoring and speaking to the various groups – both to thank them and to try to find out where µβ had disappeared to. 

But the hacker community was a fickle group and once the fun of sticking it to the government had disappeared and turned to research, they had lost interest.   They weren't answering his questions.  

And as for asking Jane what had happened, he wouldn’t know where to start.  Sometime ago he had received a brief note saying that she was glad they were all free and that she had decided to return to the middle east to work.  Though he didn’t understand why, Alex had felt a brief sense of loss in knowing he might never see her again.  At the very least he had wanted to thank her.

His computer chimed, pulling him out of his reverie.  He stared at the invite to #HGTTG.

So they were still around. 

Turning on his tracing program, he responded.

Long time no hear

<µβ> It's not over

What?

<µβ> Any of it.  This wasn't even the beginning.  You and your nephew, the entire group, Gillespie, Barrett.  They were all just pawns in a much longer game that has been going on for centuries.

Game? Seriously?  I've had enough of the clichés and cloak and dagger

<µβ> Sometimes the rumors and legends you've heard the most about really are the truth, disguised as just a myth.  They won't stop unless we stop them.  And their agenda is to stop the truth from ever being known while they further their plans.

Agenda?  Games? 

His whole life seemed to have turned into a movie.

<µβ> Would you like to know more?

Alex barked a laugh.  They might as well have asked if he wanted to follow the white rabbit down the rabbit hole. 

He stared at the words on the screen.  There were still so many unanswered questions.  And people who needed to be paid back for what they had done to his nephew.

Taking a deep breath he typed his reply and hit enter.

yes

THE END

About the Author

T.K. Harris was born long, long ago in a galaxy (known as California), far, far away and promptly shipped unceremoniously out of the country to spend the next several years living in the Netherlands (in a cupboard under the stairs). Upon return to the U.S. at the ripe old age of 8ish, Harris spent the next several years in a variety of states growing up (sort of) to become a software engineer and IT manager, traveling and living in even more states as well as other countries. 

Harris has been writing since childhood and, through the years, has had several short stories published by various magazines, including one in Woman's World.

Phantom Dreams
is Harris's first published novel. 

You can purchase it here: 

http://www.amazon.com/Phantom-Dreams-T-K-Harris-ebook/dp/B008I4R1FM

OR here:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/phantom-dreams-t-k-harris/1112976686

Harris currently lives and works in Denver, Colorado as a Solution Manager and APP/DEV Solutions Architect and is gearing up to release her first book of mystery and fantasy short stories, called: 
RUN and Other Short Stories
(or something like that).

Find out more on
:   
http://www.amazon.com/T.-K.-Harris/e/B0099QQKMI
or

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7371895.T_K_Harris

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