The Deception Force

By Ed Alto

The Deception Force is the second book in the Scott Daniels series. The first book 'The Deception Factor' was released in 2011. In this book Scott has overcome the serious injury that caused him to lose his memories. His amnesia and other injuries caused him to retire from DATA (Department of Anti-Terrorist Acvities) to enjoy his new life of music and a relationship he never had the time for when he was an Agent. When he recieves a call from a friend in the agency notifying him that his best friend and DATA agency partner had been killed, he is dragged back into the life he had retired from. His emotions take control of his common sense and he ends up putting his life and future in jeopardy. Scott had been a national hero. Will he end up being a prisoner and a disgraced American citizen?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ed Alto
• Release date: Nov 16, 2021

Ed Alto

Ed, after retiring as a Civil Engineer, has tapped his creative side. He is currently working as an artist, a singer/songwriter/musician and has discovered that he can tell stories not only through his music but also by writing books. “Over the Border” is the result of that discovery and is Ed’s first novel. His passion for history and his talent for writing has been combined to bring this historical western thriller to life.Ed has a reputation as a true Renaissance man with his recently released CD “Every Ordinary Day” and the success of his artwork. His paintings have been accepted into several fine art competitions and Starbucks has his art on permanent display.Ed has said that writing “Over the Border” has opened up an exciting new creative venue for him. As a result he has written a follow up book “Deception Factor” which is in the editing stages and will available in the near future. Watch for its release.Ed is an avid outdoorsman and lives in the Northwest near Seattle. How he finds the time to combine all his passions is a mystery in itself. You can view Ed’s art, listen to his music, and contact him by visiting his website.

Book preview

Chapter 1:

There’s nothing like a good port wine to relax the soul. It’s my favorite drink of choice. I took a sip of the port whilst sitting on my deck in Bozeman, Montana, listening to one of my favorite songs…

"Imagine there's no countries; It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for; And no religion too

Imagine all the people living life in peace

While listening to the song, I was scanning the terrain before me as it stretched far to the horizon. I watched the patterns of the clouds as they slowly drifted overhead. The trees bordering the yard were gently blowing in rhythm with the breeze. Beyond was a field of golden prairie grass against a backdrop of snowcapped mountains covered by an ice blue sky.

Imagine there's no heaven; It's easy if you try

No hell below us; above us only sky

Imagine all the people living for today

I took another sip of my port and savored the taste as it slowly entered my throat. I could feel its warmth trickle down to my chest. As I was contemplating the words to the song I couldn’t imagine anything being wrong with the world at that moment.

Imagine no possessions; I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger; a brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people sharing all the world

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us; and the world will be as one"

When the song ended, the words made me feel a slight sense of guilt. Not because of how I now live but because of what I once did and what I know. I, Scott Daniels, had been a Federal Agent of DATA (the Department for Advanced Terrorist Activities), a department of Homeland Security. As a Federal Agent, I tried to make the country a safer place to live. My job was dealing with terrorists, both domestic and international. With DATA’s strategic input the Security agencies thwarted, caught and eliminated many terrorists before they could accomplish their destructive activities. DATA worked with all the national security agencies to identify and strategically plan how to eradicate terrorist threats to the United States. We helped strengthen our borders to hinder insurgents from entering our country to accomplish their objectives. But the job had taken its toll on me. My battered body wasn’t up to performing at the level it once had. So I decided to retire to pursue a much safer career, music, and recover from my many injuries.

While sitting and reflecting on the words of the song, I laughed at the thought that at one point, this singer-songwriter was considered an antagonist to the United States, kind of a domestic terrorist. They even considered deporting him and revoking his VISA status. The FBI had a file on him. The FBI director had agents monitoring this person. I discovered the file while working for DATA.

When I discovered the file on this singer I wondered why the FBI was supposedly threatened by this person. It was a mystery to me. I couldn’t envision feeling threatened by someone imagining a utopian world and advocating peace...a peace terrorist. But, during the Viet Nam war, there was a lot of internal anxiety in the United States regarding the peace movement. Although I never saw the peace movement as anything more than a protest against the Viet Nam war. I was in Viet Nam during these protests and still didn’t consider the peace movement as being an actual terrorist activity.

I actually find some profound wisdom in the words of the song. Would this classify me as a potential terrorist? Still, what could possibly be wrong with imagining an alternate existence? I am under no delusion that the concepts presented in the lyrics are based on an unachievable fantasy. But if you consider their intention, one can imagine the possibilities.

Why some people would consider the concepts of the words to be absurdities is bewildering. What I find absurd is blind acceptance of intolerance, fear of diversity, denial of human equality and misguided power and greed. These viewpoints made possible, on a large scale, by the existence of cultural boundaries, ethnic and racial differences, religious fundamentalism, outright intolerance and egotistical psychopaths who desire and misuse power. Many of the people who consider the lyrics fanatical concepts are the same people that make me believe these concepts are not that absurd. I can only imagine.

Currently this planet, our home, is in the throes of major changes and too many people ignore the fact that we, the people of our planet earth, are earth’s potential terrorists. I’m sure the planet will outlast us humans, but what is mankind doing to the living environment? We need to eliminate this denial of the facts before it’s too late. We have changing climate issues which could be mitigated if we all start accepting them as fact. Too many believe the scientists who are raising these issues have some devious hidden agenda. Yeah, saving this beautiful planet we live on is a devious agenda.

Then there is the ever-growing human population. In just the last few decades, the human population has expanded exponentially. It’s not sustainable. The resources which are essential to support the expanding populations are being depleted. We are consuming many of these natural resources faster than they can be replenished. The resources are being depleted at a rapid pace mainly for economic gain, without fear of the consequences. Still we continue to deplete those resources and pollute the environments essential for life. And without trepidation the population keeps increasing and we keep denying our role in failing to protect the future of earth for its heirs. Denial of these conditions will take us only so far then reality will adversely alter some future generation’s existence. Why are so many people insensitive to driving our successors to the end of living and the beginning of survival? Something I would rather not imagine. I know I’ll be fine in my lifetime…but I guess that’s the point. So many people feel safe in their denial. But if civilization continues to ignore the inevitable and continues their current habits, then we will have been the terrorists that doomed future generations.

As I scanned the terrain before me I thought of the many uniquely beautiful places in this country, natures once in a lifetime creations some of which had taken millions of years to form. These places some wise people deemed so beautiful and unique that they set them aside for future generations to admire and enjoy as we have. These places are constantly under attack because money has become more important than the earth’s irreplaceable treasures. Will we also be the terrorists that destroy the earth’s unique geographical features?

It’s ironic I should think in these terms since my occupation as a DATA Federal Agent was to eliminate the threat of terrorism as it affects this country. Nevertheless, these other unspecified forms of terrorism are left to other individuals to try to resolve. Yet, these are all a form of terrorism. As time goes on I believe there will be many more acts of terrorism, violent terrorism, as the world continues to overpopulate and people endeavor to survive. Gaining power, by whatever means, will give the wealthy and powerful the edge on the dwindling remaining resources. Of course terrorism is not the answer, but it will be seen as a means to an end. Societies will fight each other for control. Imagine!

Scott, dinners ready.

I was suddenly brought back from what was becoming an abysmal reflection. Thank goodness, I was starting to weave myself into a web of pessimistic despondency that was driving me to a place I would rather not envision. It was the wisdom in the song that initiated these thoughts. If only that wisdom had the same effect on others.

Though I know there are deep problems that are not going away and these problems definitely have to be dealt with, I for now, intend to devote my time enjoying the evening with my lovely companion Ellie. I let the last drop of port slide gently down my throat. I looked out again upon the beautiful country and took a deep breath of the fresh air and exhaled those negative thoughts.

Alright, I’m on my way.

I quickly let the unpleasant direction my thoughts had been heading to dissolve, as I focused on my lovely Ellie, who has just created an alternate and more pleasant course for the evening. Ellie is my companion, my life and this place, Ellie’s ranch, with all its surrounding beauty, is now my home. I never had time for a relationship when I was a federal agent. I lived in a one bedroom condominium and spent most of my time at the office or in the field protecting this country from those who wanted to disrupt our autonomous lifestyle. Though I don’t regret those times, this more stable life with Ellie is something I never envisioned I would ever possess. I now enjoy more peaceful days and the beauty of the country I hadn’t taken enough time to appreciate before.

As I approached the dining room I could smell the aromas of Ellie’s culinary creation. Not only is she renowned within her career in the fashion industry, she is an excellent cook.

After a delightful meal with pleasant conversation, I helped Ellie clear the table. Then we both retired to the den and I poured us both a glass of port. I was ready to relax and read the novel I’ve been dying to engross myself in while Ellie worked on a fashion magazine article she had been requested to do. Ellie has quite a reputation in the fashion industry. She could very well be a model herself but she prefers assisting others by enlightening them as to what makes them look good and what to avoid.

As I went to retrieve my book from the bookshelf, my attention was drawn to the words on a plaque on the wall.

‘I, Scott Daniels, do hereby swear as a special agent of the United States…and so on.’

For 16 years I was part of the government organization called DATA. I still strongly consider DATA a vital organization, but now, just 45 years old, I feel I no longer have the overpowering desire or the capabilities it takes to continue as part of that organization. The realization of near death can change your perspective and priorities. Once I had the perception of invincibility, highly needed to perform at the level required to do battle with relentless adversaries. I was young and fearless. Now I’m middle aged, physically vulnerable and somewhat fearful. I came extremely close to death a few times while performing my job, which is probably a strong reason for my fear. In addition, for the first time in my life, I have my companion Ellie, who I adore. Trepidation mixed with compassion is a bad recipe in the terrorist business. Though I will never regret what I had accomplished, I found there’s more to life for me than death defying altruistic ambition. I no longer wanted any part of the reality of being stabbed, shot, tortured and nearly killed. I also couldn’t put Ellie through the terrors of that kind of uncertainty every day. So for both our sakes, I retired.

I had served 6 years in the Special Forces in Viet Nam before becoming a DATA agent. I survived all of it. I was lucky. Now I enjoy playing guitar and writing songs, which I had little time to do while chasing terrorists. Music was always a secret passion of mine that I now can enjoy. I occasionally perform at local venues. It’s a whole lot safer. However, no one can totally escape the existence of their past. Reading or watching the news can rekindle unwanted recollections. It can be hard for me to read or hear the news and observe the direction this nation and much of the world sometimes heads. It seems like we never learn enough from all the previous mistakes made, instead we keep going back and learning them over again. There are times I wonder if there was more I could have offered. But I try to erase those thoughts as soon as they enter my mind.

During my service with DATA, a female terrorist, I once had the misfortune of knowing, told me she never read the news because no news is no news, neither good nor bad. I didn’t understand what she meant at the time. Then ironically, just as I was about to relax with my book, the phone rang, and I got the news.

Chapter 2:

Washington DC:

The sky was an unrelenting gray, at least as much as you could see of it through the heavy dank mist.

I stood in the mist staring down at the soggy ground and the puddles that had formed as the rain started to subside. I looked at my shoes as they sunk slightly into the muddy earth, the shine with beaded water droplets slipping to the ground. I didn’t look up as I listened to a eulogy being conducted by someone praising someone he hardly knew. It didn’t seem right. In front of me was a beautifully constructed, highly polished piece of fine woodwork with brass handles resting beneath an American flag. Soon it would be placed in this mud and in it the remains of my best friend, and former DATA partner, Matt Stone. It seemed odd this beautiful coffin contained what I understand to be just the charred remains of his body.

The only thing that could have made this day worse would be if there had been a wintry chill in the air. These proceedings made me feel like there was. It was about as dreary a day that you could imagine. Maybe that’s appropriate because my mood is dreary. In my judgement this whole damned affair is dreary.

The agency told me my best friend Matt was the victim of a vehicle explosion. Because of the circumstances, the on-going investigation and national security, the explosion was being publically described as an electrical malfunction. But I was told the Homeland Security Agency is sure it was an act of terrorism, an assassination.

Because of his years of service in the Special Forces and his years as DATA’s founder and director, the President insisted Agent Matt Stone should be given this full military honorary funeral.

As I ventured a glance at the faces in attendance, I saw many friends and agency personnel but also envisioned terrorists standing there smiling, terrorists who had been waiting a long time for this day to come. The faces of the friends standing there seemed blurred. But the terrorists I could picture clearly and I cursed them under my breath.

What honey? Ellie whispered.

I’m sorry, I didn’t say anything, I was just thinking.

Ellie was holding my arm and that will be the only thing that will comfort me today.

I watched the shiny wooden box as it was being lowered into the hole. I heard the 21 gun salute as it echoed through the mist at Arlington National Cemetery, and would continually echo in my head every time I thought about this day. I tossed the flowers that Ellie had handed me in the hole and a Special Forces patch which I felt was appropriate. I lowered my head to fight off the emotions I was feeling.

News crews were there taping the event. Photographers were snapping pictures and news reporters started interviewing some of the people who were in attendance. I wanted no part of expounding on mine and Matt’s relationship at the moment. For me, it just seemed inappropriate. I know this funeral is being broadcast by the media so everyone can acknowledge and mourn the loss of a National hero. Matt definitely deserves that. I need to let my indifference go.

Then like an unwanted finale, a large charcoal gray cloud moved over the proceedings casting down darkness from the sky as if a volcano had erupted and was blanketing the occasion with the guts of the earth. I felt the same way when I received the call from Ethan, a close friend and partner at DATA, who told me the shocking news about Matt’s death. My guts were torn out and darkness filled my soul. Matt was my best friend. We served together in the Special Forces and we were both federal agents for DATA. Matt never gave up trying to make this country a better place to live, and here he will lay forever, the end. And me, I gave it all up but I’m still here. It just seems unjust.

The rain started again and allowed me to finally leave this solemn gathering and bury my thoughts in some meaningless resentment. Ellie tucked her arm through mine and silently directed me toward our car. Ellie and I took a circuitous route through some old oak trees to avoid running into the media. I was in no mood to narrate how I was feeling. Once we were inside the car, Ellie leaned over and kissed my cheek.

She said, I know this was hard. I’m sure that you would prefer to remember Matt’s last visit with us in Bozeman when we laughed through the night, not this.

I knew exactly what she meant and I think that was what made the whole affair that much more depressing. This day, and this spectacle, was now in my head.

I uttered, What the hell are they taking pictures for? Nobody wants to see them except terrorists who will pin them on their walls and claim victory.

Ellie pulled me closer and said, "Forget them Scott and don’t watch the news. Just remember what Matt once told you. ‘With you as my friend this is a good life’. Just remember that."

I smiled at Ellie, silently thanking her for attempting to divert my frustration and anger in a positive direction. I turned and stared out the window as the car turned out of Arlington National Cemetery and onto the highway.

I was now, at the request of the President, headed toward an office I had given up over a year ago. The President asked me if I would finish a report that Matt had started. Since it was regarding DATA, I was the most experienced person to complete it.

The DATA offices now contain two lonely desks, mine and Matt’s. The stories those desks could tell will be their silent legacy. They will remain scratched worn pieces of wood that had DATA missions conceived on them. In their drawers had been the plans and strategies we implemented to preserve the security of the United States. Then there were the bottles of spirits we shared that had gotten us through many difficult situations. And, there were the drugs that kept us sane through the endless missions when we went days with little rest.

Today, my longtime friend and partner, the director of DATA, Matt Stone was sent on his final mission, underground in a shiny wooden box in Arlington National Cemetery. This is a mission I never wanted to be part of.

Chapter 3:

DATA was a creation of Matt’s and was set up to act as a central location to compile all information on terrorist activities, domestic and foreign. But it was also set up as a cover for covert operations that we DATA agents would sometimes embark on. It’s true, DATA, appropriately named, kept all the records regarding terrorist activities. We would disseminate the terrorist information to the appropriate agencies and formulate strategic plans to curtail terrorist activities within the United States. But keeping records wasn’t DATA’s only function, but it was the only function known to the rest of the security agencies.

Below the Homeland Security building there is a vault on level B2. This is where DATA keeps all the records regarding terrorists and terrorist activities filed. The vault has a priority access security system which only DATA agents have access to. Only Matt, me and Ethan have discretionary authorization to access the vault. If necessary, the current President can access the vault when he requests it, but only if he is accompanied by one of us. This was put in place for security purposes. Faye, DATA’s administrative assistant, is a vital part of DATA’s operation, but even she doesn’t have the authority to access the vault without one of us DATA agents with her.

Inside this vault, besides all the terrorist files, there is a special computer. It’s because of this computer that the proprietary access to the vault was set up. Because of its color we call it the blue computer. On this computer DATA’s secret covert mission information is stored. The computer also contains a file with names, contact numbers and other information on DATA’s secret international operatives that are located throughout the world. Their identities are only known to Matt, me and Ethan. We promised these operatives that we would keep their identities secret as they perform their activities. It was a condition of their service that their personal information would never be disclosed.

When information is sent to us by these operatives, it is encrypted and comes through the blue computer. This information is for our eyes only. Yes, the correspondence is filed and mapped, terrorist names are documented, and information disseminated to the various branches of the security agencies but the source of the information is never revealed. Because of the information contained on the blue computer a special key is required that allows the elevator to access the vault level. The key is kept in DATA’s office safe.

This records vault is where all the correspondence regarding national and international terrorist activities ends up. It is the most comprehensive library of terrorist activities in the world that I am aware of. DATA was