Breakdown

By Ronald N. Goulden, MBA, PMP

Mabus is a man who clearly has a deep-rooted hatred for the American people and all things American. Over the course of his ill-gotten Presidency, he perfects and executes his insane plan to depopulate the United States. He manages to shackle the military, forcing hundreds of seasoned military leaders out of service for honoring their oath to the country and Constitution over him.

Using everything at his disposal as ‘the most powerful man in the world’, Mabus unleashes chemical, biological, and nuclear devastation on the people and country he had taken an oath to defend. Using alien technology, he wages war on the American people.

The story follows the adventures of groups of survivors as they try to survive in a world torn apart by a mad man. This is as much a Survival guide as it is a rousing Science Fiction adventure story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ronald N. Goulden, MBA, PMP
• Release date: Mar 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310719493

Ronald N. Goulden, MBA, PMP

Ronald Goulden has written novels and stories for thirty years. Having served in Viet Nam as a Translator/Interpreter, He quickly adapts to new cultures and sees a story or an adventure everywhere. He has ‘dabbled’ in witchcraft, though he is not a witch. All of his novels and stories have interconnecting threads that link them into a larger universe, spanning space and time. Some of the links are obvious, while others are very subtle. Some of the events in the stories are based on real life, while others are pure fiction. The distinction between fact and fiction is up to the reader. Having studied witchcraft many years earlier, it had always been in my mind. When I became an IT Director for the Farm Credit bank system in Wichita, I observed the ‘power’ a small group of ladies expressed over others in the bank and their general disdain for many of the men. I had also researched the BTK Killer during his spree and developed a program that allowed me to ‘predict’ his next attacks. As such, I saw the potential for violence in anyone. After being treated rather rudely by the band of bank beauties, I decided to write a story to explain their odd and overbearing personalities. Using newspaper stories and personal experiences, I settled on baby sacrifices and Satanism. While the personalities and physical attributes are based upon real people I knew at the time, their involvement is this story is purely fiction. There are many ‘links’ in this story to the other novels I’ve written over time, essentially building an alternate universe.

Book preview

Breakdown

Ronald N. Goulden, MBA, PMP

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 Ronald N. Goulden

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover design by bobooks

Table of Contents

Prelude

Prologue

Chapter 1 – Planning

Chapter 2 - Politics

Chapter 3 – Day One

Chapter 4 – Day Two

Chapter 5 – Day Three

Chapter Six – Day Four

Chapter Seven – Day Five

Chapter Eight – Day Six

Chapter Nine – Week Two

Chapter Ten – Week Three

Chapter Eleven – Week Four

Chapter Twelve – Week Five

Chapter Thirteen – Month Three

Epilog

Bug-Out

References

Additional Works

Prelude

Late one frozen Saturday evening, I awakened from a restless sleep and reluctantly left my lovely wife alone in our bed. I felt a nagging unrest in my mind that demanded I leave the comfort of my wife and check my email, which was my habit any time I felt restless or uneasy. My preference would have been to sit on the veranda and sip my scotch, but my intolerance to the cold forbade that.

Reluctantly, I left my beautiful wife asleep in our bed and I powered up my computer to check my email. I fixed myself a scotch while I waited for the computer to come to life and prepare to meet my demands.

Finally, as I sipped my drink in the semi-darkness of my study, lit only by the computer screen, the computer reached my level of readiness. I initiated my email program with an unusually high sense of trepidation. Somehow, I knew I was about to receive unsettling news.

My heart jumped slightly at the message identifier that appeared before my eyes; GSC - URGENT! I had no idea of what GSC meant. However, the word ‘URGENT’ was attention-getting by itself.

Since I had personally written my own email client program, I knew that only the most privileged messages would be allowed to pass. I had far too many over-zealous fans. Only an extremely talented or resourceful message sender could get through my filters, which were designed to block any message that did not meet a specific set of predefined requirements.

The message read:

"Dear Writer;

I know of you from your previous works. Due to the advanced technology provided by Griffin Systems Cybernetics, I am communicating with you thru the robotic unit SYBIL, which is last of the two advanced robotic entities still under my control.

For all practical purposes and from my perspective, the space-time continuum as you know it has ceased to exist. Due to an unfortunate combination of terrorism, vandalism, natural disasters, and an insane President, your human civilization no longer exists. My present is your very near future. Be forewarned!

I am Stan Griffin, CEO and CTO of Griffin Systems Cybernetics. During your lifetime, my company specialized in the development and enhancement of Artificial Intelligence. My company developed the Sybil™ and ‘Run n Gun’™ technologies that allowed me to advance artificial technologies far beyond simple vacuum cleaners and remote controlled toys to truly autonomous entities.

I have collected this information from various sources and cannot attest to the veracity of every fact, though the general context is accurate.

My story may give you some insights into what your future holds for you, and possibly some inkling of how to survive the coming chaos. It is my belief that what is about to happen to your world cannot be stopped. However, perhaps foresight can provide you with the information necessary to survive and propagate the human race. From my present perspective, the human race is at the top of the endangered species list.

The last two of my robotic units were EMP hardened to survive a massive nuclear explosion, which enabled them to survive the solar flares that incapacitated much of the world and the concentrated attacks form the American dictator, Mabus. The robotic units, Sybil and Cassie were autonomous, self-maintaining artificial entities that functioned independently of human oversight.

However, I ensured that they remained obedient to my executive committee and especially my wife, Jane. Their underlying functional directive is to preserve my wife, in spite of any contra-indicative command she might issue. In other words, the robots are programmed to protect my wife, in spite of herself. Knowing my wife, that feature had to be built into their core operating systems. They absolutely had to protect my wife, that was their prime directive.

During the early part of the twenty-first century, the world was exposed to a nuclear attack and a solar event that virtually destroyed all electronic capabilities in the world, a senseless act of vandalism, that of itself, almost sent the world into an ice age, and a series of state-sponsored terrorist activities that included biological, nuclear, and traditional weaponry that crippled the world economy.

In our world, the French will forever be a cursed race; they unleashed the Ebola plague that destroyed a large percentage of the world population, all in a quest of monetary gain and in compliance with the Mabus administration’s, "Apocalypse Theory’ that promoted drastic depopulation by any means available.

The communications network failed first due to the nuclear attack and the solar event. Transportation and travel failed because of terrorist activities, as did entire cities. The environment was destroyed by senseless vandalism. Finally, the human race was destroyed by the President of the United States.

I am sending this email because I personally failed in my attempt to protect my wife. I am still searching for any clue concerning her condition or location.

While I am apparently immune to virtually every disease known to man, including the weaponized Ebola produced by the French brothers, I could not stop their release of the disease into the human population. Your world is doomed. In the very near future, countless millions of your people will die to satisfy French greed and the insanity of the American dictator, Mabus.

I do not know how much longer I will survive. Since the release of the Ebola plague, the world has become insanely violent, and I have hundreds of miles to travel before reaching the Keep and hopefully, the loving arms of my wife. If I survive, it will be because of Sybil.

My only hope is that they have not made mankind extinct.

Over the course of time, I will send updates on my efforts to return home. Please be prepared. Whether you chose to accept these reports as truth or flights of fancy are up to you. Regardless of your opinion, this is your future. There is no alternative, read these reports and weep. Your future is lost; everything you’ve known is about to dissolve in a maze of lunacy.

In my world, humanity now struggles for its last toehold on survival. We are on the verge of following the dinosaurs into a history made unsavory because of our own contributions to our demise. While nature may have played a bit part in our destruction, humankind destroyed itself.

Always remember that any civilization is only three meals away from anarchy. We propagated the welfare and entitlement cultures, which ultimately destroyed our civilization. The lesson I have learned so far, is that civilization and total barbarism are separated by less than twenty-four hours. Since the release of the plagues and the Mabus attacks, I have yet to see any redeeming characteristics from the remnants of our civilization. If we cannot redesign society, then perhaps it is best that we become extinct. Maybe the future legends of humankind will exceed its reality.

This is the first installment of hopefully many reports you will receive from me. When the reports cease, you will know that I have perished. I am taking extreme efforts to provide Sybil with information to be able to provide you with up to date information on my situation. Sybil is fully autonomous and highly intelligent. In the event of my demise, I hope she will continue these communiqués with you.

Again, the narrative I am sending is the truth as I know it, and has been gathered from many sources coupled with personal experiences.

While I created the GSC-1x series of robots; on this trip, I am discovering that Sybil is far more of a comrade than a robotic servant. It has surprising wisdom and insights for a being only a few old. I hope it thinks similarly of me.

Best Regards.

Stan Griffin, CEO/CTO

Griffin Systems Cybernetics"

I reached for my scotch and was surprised to note that my hand was shaking. As I re-read the message, I worried about my beautiful wife asleep in our bed. I hoped she would be spared any of the horrors of the death of civilization that I have always known was coming.

With a sigh of resignation, I copied the attached document into my word processor and began reading the tale that I knew would horrify me. Having served in the Viet Nam war, I knew all too well the inhumanities humankind could subject itself.

Sometimes, I find being an author to be rather disconcerting. All too often, my sleep or peace has been disrupted by unearthly messengers wanting me to tell their tales. However, this one had a sting of truth when compared with information I had from other ‘messengers’. Therefore, I feel there is a strong thread to truth behind this message and plan to watch for future communiqués from Sybil.

I read until sunrise, and then began reading the manuscript again. I knew society was on the verge of destruction. By the time my wife awakened and strode into the study to kiss my neck, I was devastated.

The following narrative is essentially as I received it, with only minor grammatical or syntactic corrections. I am the deliverer of the message, not the originator. Feel free to feel dispassionate or alarmed. What each individual reader thinks of this tale is of no consequence to me. The future is what it will be. The reader can be forewarned or doomed. In either case, I will have served my purpose.

I find this tale to be as much a survival guide as an adventure tale. Perhaps others will find different interpretations.

Be aware that the perspective will vary, based on the source of the information.

Prologue

Sitting in the visual cover provided by a distant tree, the young woman watched as a beautiful, dark-skinned woman fired her weapon at three identical women wearing shimmering green gowns that provided a stark contrast for her brilliant red hair...

The observer watched the battlefield and pulled her robe closer in an attempt to ward off the night chill and possibly muffle the sounds of fighting and explosions.

She watched as a woman staggered away from the scene of carnage, holding a child.

A single instance of the woman in green stumbled away from the battle, only to be torn apart by the continuous explosions from a heavy weapon.

After the fighting stopped and most of the combatants had departed, the young woman left her cover and cautiously approached the body of the woman in green. Upon reaching the still form, she gazed at the corpse with odd, gold-flecked eyes, and then she reached out a delicate hand, tinged with a light blue in the moonlight, and retrieved the ornate dagger at the waist of the dead woman.

Slipping the dagger into her robe, she turned and disappeared into the night.

* * *

Chapter 1

Planning

"Patriotism is supporting

your country all the time, and your

government when it deserves it." - Mark Twain

In the dark times during and after the turn of the century, the world changed dramatically, not just from the expected computer failures, not just from the activities of hate-ridden terrorists, and not just by a series of solar events of remarkable proportions. The world ended, not as expected, but by a remarkable combination of coincidences. Perhaps it was the wrath of God; or perhaps it was just that the time for man’s reign over this world had expired.

* * *

August 2001, San Antonio, Texas:

Alan Clarkson drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his almost black Ford F-150 truck. The morning rush hour traffic had turned IH-10 into a parking lot. He glanced around at the other victims of the traffic jam, smiling briefly at the comely Hispanic woman trapped in the vehicle to his left. He sighed as he shook his and glanced over his right shoulder. He could see his office from where he sat, less than a hundred yards away.

At just after eight in the morning in early May, the temperature in San Antonio was already eighty degrees. Alan liked to drive with his window down whenever possible; he hated air conditioning. He heard the futile honking of horns from sporadic cars in the traffic jam around him. It reminded him of a herd of cattle. Inevitably, one of them was always making noise.

He was the Director of Information Technology for a large security company. In spite of his industry and his employer, he strove to maintain a high standard of ethics and accountability. That included getting to work on time. He sighed again as he admitted to himself that he would be late today, there could be no excuses.

He glanced at the rear seat of his truck where he had his semi-automatic version of the venerable Thompson 1927-A1 sub-machinegun covered by an old wool Army blanket. Even though Y2K had proven to be a bust, he kept the big gun readily available. The fifty-round drum magazine was fully loaded, though not wound, saving the spring. He found comfort in the near presence of the heavy weapon.

He let the clutch out so the truck could drift forward five feet; at least he was making progress.

* * *

The traffic opened up a bit, allowing him to get within twenty-five feet of his exit. He looked in the mirror and saw a police cruiser two cars behind him. He decided to throw caution to the winds and turned the steering wheel sharply to the right as he guided the truck over the curb. In his mirror, he could see the cop shaking his head.

Within five minutes, Alan walked past the receptionist. You’re late, Alan.

I know, Daisy. Why don’t you go tell Mike when I got here? He kept walking toward his office.

I just called him to let him know.

Thanks. He replied as he rounded the corner.

Mike and George want to talk with you…now.

Alan sighed as he stopped in his tracks. Okay. I’ll go talk with them. He knew what this meeting was about. He performed a military ‘about-face’ and walked to Mike’s office.

As he entered the room, he saw Mike and George sitting at a small round conference table. Alan glanced at the two men and the single sheet of paper lying face down on the table. Mike was tall and lanky, with the characteristic look of the undeserving ‘entitled’ class. It was well known that Mike knew nothing about the security business. Everyone knew that the older and wiser George was the real brains of the operation, though heavily crippled by British thinking of the parent company.

Alan nodded as he entered Mike’s office. Hello Gentlemen. What can I do for you? It was more an invitation than a question as Alan sat down at the round table. Alan propped his feet against the bole of the table, causing it to wobble, accidentally spilling Mike’s coffee. Sorry ‘bout that. He was going to assume command of this meeting, one way or another.

There was a brief interruption as Mike found some paper towels to clean his table.

Alan glanced at George, who shook his head sadly. Alan nodded, he understood.

After the brief distraction, Mike sat down at the table and leaned toward Alan, who also leaned forward, causing Mike to sit back in his chair. We know about your involvement in this sexual harassment case in Memphis.

You should, I made a fully disclosed report to your attorney two weeks ago. Prior to that, I reported the situation to you and George a month ago. He looked Mike in the eye. You and Randy, the VP over that region decided to ‘whitewash’ the investigation and intimidate the witnesses, rather than act as real men and defend the honor of the person who was harassed by the branch manager.

Mike ignored Alan’s charges. We know that you are a friend of the Memphis Operations Manager, David.

Mike glared at Alan. You know he’s filed a sexual harassment case against us?

He should. He was sexually harassed by the branch manager for months. Again, I reported it to you guys over a month ago.

Alan focused his attention on Mike, I would have hoped you had the intelligence of a snail to realize the importance of what I told you. I spent a month in Memphis and personally witnessed the sexual harassment. I even counseled the branch manager about it and he just laughed it off.

Mike leaned back in his chair as though he had been slapped. George tried to conceal his smile.

Mike said; We know that you went to Memphis last weekend. We know that you broke into the Memphis office and deleted files from their computers that could have been beneficial to our defense against David’s law suit.

Again, Alan laughed loudly. Mike, you’re an idiot. Yes, I went to Memphis and I put on my super hero suit and climbed up eight floors of glass windows and then ‘separated’ my molecules so I could ‘melt my way through the glass’ to enter your branch office and delete some worthless files, then reversed the process and drove back to San Antonio.

If you want to know who deleted those files, you should be questioning the branch manager. He had some ‘computer expert’ buddy load all sorts of unauthorized software on the branch computers. If anyone destroyed incriminating files, it would be him.

He glanced at George. If you must know, I went to Memphis as part of the final interview process with a Biotechnology company. They want me to be their heir-apparent to the CIO. I’ve accepted their offer and will start immediately.

Mike shook his head and glared at Alan. I’m ordering you to give me a full confession of your involvement in this sexual harassment case by the end of the day, or I’ll fire you. He slid the sheet of paper toward Alan.

Alan could not believe what he was hearing. Mike, you’re an idiot. Your threats of termination mean nothing to me. I already have another job. How stupid are you? Do you even have a clue? Do you have any idea of just how stupid you sound?

Alan slid the paper back to Mike. I’ll tell you what, Mike. You and Randy have ‘white-washed ‘this sexual harassment case with criminal intent. So to hell with you. If you want to fire me, go ahead. A week ago, I instructed Jim to remove all of my access to the computer systems and network, as a ‘test of our security procedures’. That way you can’t claim I corrupted the system, stole data, or deleted any critical files.

He paused slightly. I’ll tell you what. While I go pack my personal items, you can get my severance package ready.

Mike shook his head. You resigned. I’m not giving you a severance package.

Alan leaned forward. Fine. I’ll just advise the Attorney General of how Kimberly, with your tacit approval, defrauded thousands of minimum wage workers out of insurance money by over-charging them on their payroll deductions, then depositing the subsequent over-payment checks into your personal accounts.

I had nothing to do with that.

That’s funny, since your signature is on the backs of the checks. Severance package or jail… the decision is yours.

Alan stood up and stormed from Mike’s office. As he passed through the reception area, he saw Daisy smirking at him. He flipped her off as he continued to his office.

He had barely sat down when Jim, his Development Manager entered his office and said. Alan, I have a problem. Yesterday, Mike told me to ‘hide’ $160k in the accounting system.

Where did the $160k come from?

It is the final payment from when the Australians sold us to the British. Mike doesn’t want the British to know about the money. What should I do?

Well, if you want to keep your job. You’re going to have to do what they say. However, I would advise that you go to an attorney. Nevertheless, you know what Mike and Kimberly will do. They’ll fire you in a heartbeat. If you don’t go to the attorney, then document the hell out of this before you do anything. You may get enough leverage to keep your job, or at least stay out of jail. You know they’ll throw you under the bus if anything goes wrong.

He leaned back in his chair. I wish I had more clout to help you, but as you know, they are pissed at me for reporting the extreme sexual harassment that was going on in the Memphis branch. Mike actually had the gall to accuse me of breaking into the eighth floor office in the middle of the night and deleting files from the computers there to help the poor guy who had been harassed by the branch manager. He smiled. I’m actually flattered that Mike thinks this fifty-year old body could climb up the glass walls of a high rise office building in the middle of the night and then melt through the walls and delete files, all without leaving a single fingerprint. For being a CEO of a one of the largest security companies in America, the man is dumber than a rock...

He glanced up at his friend, knowing the man would betray him in a heartbeat. Cover your ass, Jim.

By the way, they just tried to fire me. However, I already have a job with a French Biotechnology company in Memphis. I know it’s not Alaska, but if you ever want a change. Let me know. I’ll hire you in a heartbeat.

Jim left the office as Alan watched him leave. He knew Jim would report any relevant parts of their conversation to Mike within minutes. He did not care. He knew it was time to move on. Things just did not feel right anymore. He tried to work with a sense of ethics and there were no ethics in this company.

Sometimes the line between right and wrong was very vague. He sat back and thought about his personal life briefly. Looking around, he reflected on the morning’s problems. For him it was a typical start of the day.

While packing his personal items, Alan heard the heart-stopping sound of silence coming from the computer room as the AS/400 computer suddenly dropped power and the office lights went out. In the adjoining room, he heard a few startled screams from the accountants. He thought, That’s odd, the UPS should have kicked in. He shrugged, Not my problem anymore.

* * *

December 2001, Chicago, Illinois:

The young Senator’s hands shook with excitement as he read the final page of the sheath of papers handed to him earlier that evening by his mentor. This is great stuff, Bill. If we could only get someone to implement it, it’ll bring this country to its knees. Cloward and Piven (1) were geniuses. What a great way to destroy an economy so that a better form of government can be implemented. The Constitution is so archaic and limiting.

The older man leaned back in his leather chair and blew marijuana smoke into the air above him. This is great shit, man. I appreciate you confiscating it from your DEA contacts and keeping me supplied.

His eyes glazed slightly, and then refocused. Steps are being taken to get someone in the ‘Oval Office’ who will get this ball rolling. We finally have unlimited funding from scores of multi-billionaires, and the United Nations will fully sanction the de-construction of America.

But we still have to get through the election process at least once. We will then be able to manipulate the elections to remain in power forever. After that, control of the media and the ignorant masses will allow us to ensure that we stay in power long enough to dismantle the Constitution and declare an empire. The damned American constitution is such a pain. If the Constitution and Congress were removed from the mix, great things could be accomplished.

We will have team players in the key roles in the Senate and the House, and we should be able to ‘stack the deck’ in the Supreme Court. Once we get in power, the Constitution will be eliminated, and Congress will do as we say. America won’t know what hit them.

As a Community Organizer, I found it easy to manipulate the ignorant ‘welfare junkies’. If I told someone the government would pay their mortgage and all of their bills if they vote for me, they would kill to get me in office. I never have to follow through with my promises though. All I ever need are their votes. Maybe one day we can completely eliminate the electoral process and just declare that we’re in charge.

That day is coming.

"I’m handsome enough that the women fall all over themselves to do as I ask, often before I even ask. Not too long ago, I went on a morning talk show hosted by four women, and they all made a point of ‘wearing legs’ that day; I screwed one of them on the set; the other were too damned ugly or old to get a rise out of me.

* * *

December 2001, Memphis, Tennessee:

Upon retirement from the Kansas Highway Patrol, Hal Weiberts moved to Memphis and bought a small plot of land with the expectation of spending the rest of his life in peaceful seclusion. Early in his career as a Highway Patrol officer he had become involved in a case dealing with Satanism and sacrifices, where he shot a young woman. That case had haunted him for decades and had altered his perception of life and reality.

After only a few months of ‘retirement’, he became restless and subsequently joined the Shelby County Sheriff’s Office.

* * *

September 2002, Memphis, Tennessee:

The slightly built, almost effeminate appearing Giles Laurent was prematurely balding and secretly envied his younger siblings’ full head of hair and masculine physique. Yves, I don’t care what you want. You must remember that your computers are just toys; just as our business is just a front to allow us to freely operate a biotechnology company in the United States.

But…

No buts. Our purpose, our only purpose here is to develop a weaponized strain of the Ebola virus. Why do you think we worked so hard to establish a secret Laboratoire P4 here in Memphis? Giles glared at his younger brother. We bought this company and gutted its leadership solely for this purpose. The entire management team is our sycophant. They will agree to everything we say, because they are stupid and afraid of losing their jobs. Like most Americans, they have no balls.

He continued, Yves, you are brilliant. You are probably the only person in the world who could weaponize the Ebola virus. When you do, we will be billionaires. When you devise a strain of Ebola that has true zoonosis, and is readily transmittable across species, then we will have a worldwide market for our products. We won’t just be mere millionaires as we are now, we will be multi-billionaires

But damn it, Giles. If I weaponize the Ebola virus, it could destroy the world.

It will only destroy the Americans. Everyone hates the Americans but loves their money. You will also create the cure for our strain of Ebola, which we can sell to ‘friendly’ countries for a staggering price. We will be international heroes, Yves. Now, get back to work and weaponize Ebola.

I will, but the new IT director the Americans recently hired is troublesome. He is doing everything ‘by the book’ and the Americans wrote the book. I can’t get anything done because of his interference.

He looked helplessly at his diminutive, but older brother. He is not one of your ‘yes’ men. He refuses to ship my seven severs to France until he gets clearance from the American State department. I own them, but he won’t let me have them.

Don’t worry about him. I have hired a new man from Great Britain who will counter him and I will put pressure on the Americans who will do what I want in order to keep their jobs. Americans are so insecure in their employment, and so easily controlled.

But, he has hired his own staff and they are loyal to him. He has an American, a Vietnamese man and a Chinese girl who are absolutely loyal to him. How does one gain such loyalty?

Not a problem. We will infuse a few French ‘loyalists’ into his staff and I’m sure we can find an American or two who can be ‘bought’. We will sabotage him without his knowledge. Whoever the Human Resource director in America is, fire them and put our own person in. That way we can control the hiring practices of this company. Find another spineless American, preferably one who speaks French so we don’t have to speak the American’s insufferable language.

* * *

September 2002, Memphis, TN.

After leaving the San Antonio Security company, he filed for divorce from his wife and made a point of never having any contact with her or her family. He was sure he had ‘dodged’ whatever perverted plans she had for him and her teen-aged daughter.

At the new job, Alan found himself extremely frustrated by the French bureaucracy. Shortly after accepting the job as IT Director and CIO heir-apparent, the French began their ‘purge’ of the American management team. His boss, a capable and popular COO, was forced out of the company and the younger brother, Yves, assumed the CIO functions.

The French installed an inept American as CEO to act as a figurehead for the company, though he had no Biotechnology experience. Shortly after his arrival, he hired a ‘Business Analyst", Stacie Billings, against Alan’s express objections. Alan felt the woman was incompetent and untrustworthy.

The newly hired puppet COO was equally unqualified for his position within the company. His management decisions cost the company millions of dollars over a very short period. Yet, he had the complete backing of the French.

Alan looked around one day and realized that he and his three IT members were the only loyal employees remaining. Alan began working on his resume.

Early one morning, the new CEO and COO called Alan into the conference room where they mandated that he fire the Vietnamese network manager.

Why? He is doing an excellent job. Yves’ crappy network implementation is cleaned up and functioning much more reliably with virtually no failures or down-time in the past month.

The voice on the speakerphone interrupted the conversation. This is Yves and Giles. My network design was flawless.

Alan leaned toward the speakerphone, just realizing that the C-level executives neglected to inform him that this was a conference call. Yves, you and I both know that the network you installed in this office was total crap. You had so many loop backs that the switches were overloading. When we ‘sniffed’ the traffic the network load was ridiculously high. You should concentrate on biotechnology and leave technology to the people who actually understand it.

He glanced at the COO, and then continued, Yves, you and I have had this conversation before. While you may be a brilliant man, there are two things you should not do; setup networks and design databases.

I’ll have you know I am an excellent database designer.

Yves, the only thing you do worse than build networks is design databases. Your own French ‘loyalists’ here in Memphis curse you every day for your constant changes and redesigns of the database. Your system is impossible to implement here in America because of the FDA and 21 CFR 11 requirements.

Well, fire Nguyen.

Why? He stabilized your crappy network and we get consistent email for the first time in months.

He won’t grant my people access to all of your systems.

Wrong. He will grant access, he just requires a document or email signed by you or the Memphis executive committee, granting that approval per the requirements of your own computer security SOP. He is doing his job, as defined by you. You can’t fire him for that.

Fire him.

No.

Giles soft voice came through the speakerphone. Mike and Doug, fire Nguyen immediately. There was a click, followed by a dial tone. Evidently, Giles was tired of the conversation.

Alan turned to the C-levels and said, You can’t honestly tell me you are going to fire Nguyen because some French sissy thousands of miles away ‘orders’ you to?

The COO, Doug Summers slammed his hand down on the table. Nguyen is gone. You need to watch your mouth. The man had an athletic build and was fifty pounds heavier than Alan. Like many of his ilk, he managed by intimidation.

I’ll keep my own counsel and will not hide my opinion behind fear for my job.

Doug glared but did not press the issue. Fine, I’ll have JP in Human Resources terminate him. He opened his notebook. "On a different matter, I’m going to Brussels to meet with the Brothers and I need to know who is the most knowledgeable about our systems. I need to take our expert with me to answer any questions the Brothers may have. Are you the expert, or is Stacie?

Alan laughed. Stacie has been here less than a month. She can’t even spell 21 CFR 11. She’s clueless about Laboratory Information Management Systems. Taking her would be a huge mistake.

Well, I’m going to take her. I think she knows more about the system than you do.

Again Alan laughed. No, you think you’ll get lucky with her. After what she did at the company picnic, I’m sure you will. Most of the unattached men from the Memphis Lab got lucky with her that day. Hell, there was a waiting line and you even had to ‘stand guard’ to make sure the children didn’t stumble onto her and her partners. She’s the only person I know who has calluses on her knees. The guys are calling her ‘knee pads’.

Alan shrugged and stood up. Do what you want. There’s something funny going on here. The French don’t want quality employees and are loading the company with sycophants and puppets. He gathered his materials and left the conference room.

On the way back to his office, he stopped in Nguyen’s office to warn him of his pending termination.

I already know, Alan. I ‘bugged’ the conference room a long time ago. I’ll give you the web address so you can ‘eavesdrop’ on their conversations. I’ve enjoyed working for you.

As they shook hands, Nguyen’s monitor shut down, as did all of the servers in his office. The two men tried to reboot the systems to no avail. Alan tried to place a call to their ISP provider, who was in the same building, but the phone was completely dead.

Mine’s dead too. Commented Nguyen as he held his cell phone.

The sudden silence became frightening. Alan walked to the window and looked at the street, a hundred feet below. None of the cars moved. It was as if someone had pulled the plug for any electrical service.

Alan and Nguyen shared concerned glances.

* * *

November 2002, Seattle, Washington:

The Aide, Steven Tindal, sat patiently at a corner booth in the small coffee shop. He sighed as he sipped the sickly sweet beverage. It seemed there was a coffee shop on every corner, but none of them could make a decent cup of coffee. He glanced up at each new arrival, hoping his party would come to the correct coffee shop.

He smiled at the thought of the power his employer had delivered into his young hands. Barely twenty-three years old and he was the personal aide to one of the most powerful politicians in America, soon to be the most powerful person in the world. Steven knew that if he played the cards dealt to him with wisdom and fortitude, he would be one of the leaders in the New World Order, which would arrive soon.

He chuckled lightly at the thought of how well The Order could outwit the ‘intelligence’ agencies of the world. The Order members were strategically placed in the highest levels of politics, military, and business and had amazing communications protocols. In fact, some of the protocols were almost inhuman in their simplicity and originality. He pulled a five and a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet. In a move to pass time, he folded the bills quickly and smiled at the results. After he finished folding the bills, the five-dollar bill showed a representation of the intact Twin Towers of the World Trade Center; the twenty-dollar bill showed the destroyed towers with smoke clouds billowing from each tower. The ultimate collapse of the towers had not been anticipated by ‘The Masters’, so the design of the twenty-dollar bill did not show the total destruction, just the smoking hulls.

As he toyed with the folded bills, he allowed himself to smile at the thought of how cleverly blame had been passed off to another, and dodged by those who actually planned and executed the greatest crime on American soil.

Steven caught the eye of two swarthy businessmen standing in the doorway, obviously looking for someone. He sighed, You can take the man out of the desert, but you can’t take the desert out of the man. These ‘rag-heads’ have no common sense or grace, but they do serve a purpose. He raised his arm and waved briefly to attract their attention.

The two Iraqi ‘businessmen’, Asoka al-Habashi & Binyam Abdullah looked distinctly uncomfortable wearing their tailored suits. They eyed the shop patrons with suspicion as they strode toward the young blonde American.

The older man, Asoka, spoke as they stopped at the table. Steven Teendal?

Steven shrugged, Close enough. He briefly gave thought to giving these men a lesson in the American language, but knew it would be of no avail.

Sit down. Because of his youth, Steven was careful to maintain command of this meeting. While these men were multi-billionaires and leaders in their own country, they were merely pawns in the greater game that Steven played.

Binyam looked around nervously as he sat across from the young American. "Why are we meeting here, in a coffee store in Seattle, America? I think it would be safer to meet in our own country.

That’s why you’re working for me. Every intelligence agency in the world monitors virtually everything that goes on in the Middle East, not to mention every available satellite. In your country, you can’t take a piss without hitting a spy. Here, there are fewer spies and prettier women. He indicated a comely young brunette wearing a mini-skirt standing in line, waiting for her drink.

As the men turned to examine the young woman, Steven reclaimed their attention. Gentlemen, we are here to do business, not to admire beautiful women.

Reluctantly, the men turned their attention from the lovely brunette woman.

I have 350 Stinger-RMP Block II missiles available with the IFF (Identification-Friend-or-Foe) feature disabled. I need you to field one hundred three-man teams who can launch a coordinated attack. The Master will fund the entire operation and upon successful completion, he will deposit the equivalent of one billion American dollars for each of you into the bank account of your choice.

Both men licked their lips and leaned forward. Asoka tilted his head slightly. "Let me understand this. You already have the weapons and we just need to find the teams and launch them