The Coming Great Deception

By John Stevenson

Agent Redlum is thrust deep down the rabbit hole when he finds himself at the centre of the shadow government's endgame: complete mind control over the citizens of the world. Together, with a motley crew of Russian mobsters, government insiders, and conspiracy theorists, Redlum must uncover the truth about the incoming alien invasion which threatens to throw the world into chaos.

 

The Coming Great Deception weaves together the paranoia of the covid era with conspiracy theory and conspiracy fact, to create an exciting and mysterious read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Stevenson
• Release date: Feb 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201758165

Book preview

Chapter one

Redlum felt a wave of excitement rollover him as the plane touched down on the tarmac. The small leer jet landed surprisingly gracefully compared to any of the commercial airliners he had been on. One of the many perks of being on a special assignment. Agent Redlum thought I could get used to this. As he placed his tablet back into his leather satchel. As the plane taxied into a small private hanger Redlum sat forward in the plush leather chair and set the satchel on the table in front of him. He carefully verified everything he needed was still in the bag. Mentally checking things off a list as he saw each item. He had his tablet, containing the dossier he had been given before departure, his passport, Immunity Passport, drivers license and several credit cards confirming his identity as a business man from America.  Bullshit, of course but convincing enough for any customs agent or police officer who may run them.

He also had three envelopes he had been given. Each containing $10,000 cash or the equivalent in euros and local currency. Cash had lost most of it’s appeal since the Global Currency Reset. Now most businesses require payment in digital currency. And of course it was mandatory to conduct all transactions for housing, property and utilities with a digital papertrail. However, there were still, as there always has been, people that wanted cash or precious metals to conduct business without being tracked. And as Redlum had been taught, anyone willing to accept a bribe would be more willing to accept it if they were sure they wouldn’t get caught.

As the plane gently came to a stop, Redlum looked out of the small window and saw a car and a driver waiting at the back of the hangar. He had been told a car would be waiting for him although he hadn't thought about it until now, he was disappointed by the drastic decline in luxury from the elegant leer to what appeared to be a ten year old Mercedes van. Covered in dust and a fender that was clearly a different color than the rest of the van. But he shrugged off his disappointment, picking up his bag and standing up to leave the plane. As soon as he stood up he felt the weight of his glock tucked into his pants at the small of his back. He quickly patted the gun with his free hand to ensure it was secure and proceeded to walk to the door, now open, showing a small flight of stairs leading to the tarmac. He took a couple deep breaths to steady himself, hoping to shake off the anxiety that had suddenly risen inside of him. He was in a foreign country, on his first assignment. Years of training, testing and performing monotonous tasks for more senior agents had finally brought him here. After exhaling and feeling most of his panic transformed into excitement, Redlum started down the stairs.

His eyes immediately took notice of the driver approaching him. He was a tall man, stocky and appeared to be very fit and casually dressed... he looked more like a tourist than a chauffeur.

The driver approached Redlum and extended his hand. Agent Redlum I presume? He asked with a friendly smile. Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you. Redlum replied with a firm handshake.

In one fluid movement. The driver clamped down on Redlum's hand squeezing his knuckles together and struck Redlum in the nose with a hard left cross. The blow sent Redlum stumbling backwards and he fell back onto the steps of the plane. He hit his head on one of the steps. Redlum tried to look up but could only see stars. He shook his head and as his vision cleared he began to see the outline of a man standing there. His eyes began to focus more. The driver was standing there, his face was emotionless. There was sunlight glinting off of something in his hand. And then Redlum realized what it was. He was instantly cold, frozen still. Goosebumps raised on his neck and arms. The man was pointing a gun at him..

The driver slowly squeezed the trigger. In what seemed like minutes, Redlum waited for the sound of the shot. And then click. Redlum looked at the gun and then at the man holding it. His lips began to curl and then, with a smile he said Welcome to Thailand Agent. He put the gun back into the concealed holster in his waistband and extended his hand down to help Redlum up. As Redlum took his hand and began to get back to his feet. The man shook his hand and said I’m Jeff. Sorry about that.. It’s important that you learn quickly if you’re going to be in the field. First lesson is to remember who you are. Redlum could feel his upper lip swelling already. He raised his hand to his mouth. When he drew it back and saw blood on his fingers. Always stay in character. Jeff added.

Let's get going rookie. Jeff said as he picked up Redlum’s satchel and started for the van. Redlum started after him. He almost had to jog to keep pace. By the time he opened the passenger side door Jeff had already placed the satchel in the backseat and started the van. Jeff put the van in drive and began heading toward the hanger door. Two cars pulled in and blocked the door. Jeff stopped about fifty feet from the door and put it back into park. How well do you know your cover story? He asked Redlum without taking his eyes off of the cars. Pretty well. I studied it on the way over. Redlum said immediately, proudly. I’m here on business looking for a new manufacturer and distributor for asian markets."

Good. What kind of business do you own? What do you sell? Where is your current manufacturing plant located? Jeff fired off the questions at Redlum and stared quietly at the cars and then began to stutter out Answers to them. I sell office supplies... My current plant is located in Arkansas... What city? Jeff asked.

What? Redlum asked.

What city is your plant in? Jeff repeated the question.

Redlum struggled to think of a name for any city in Arkansas. He couldn’t.  "You should have studied a little harder. Any customs agent could quickly look up your business and determine that you made all that up. But they wouldn’t have to because you sound like you’re lying anyway. You sound scared, like you were caught. The agency puts a lot of work into creating your cover story. All of it can be verified but not if you don’t take the time to memorize the details.

A man got out of the black BMW that had pulled in first. He was in his late forties. Short and overweight. He approached the other vehicle that was marked in a language Redlum didn’t understand. It appeared to be a police car. The driver of the other car then got out and they began talking. The two men were both smiling and gesturing toward the van Jeff and Redlum were in.

Are those cops? Redlum asked. No, Customs agents. Jeff replied. We have arrangements with the local customs agents. Our flights are chartered through the same agency. When the flight plans are made, the airport confirms them and the customs agents we have on our payroll to ensure that they are the ones to search our plane and check us in. Of course, they never do and a report gets filed that everything checks out.  The fat fuck in the suit there is agent Lee. He is middle management and noticed that his supervisor was always volunteering to check our flights in, even in the middle of the night or on his days off. His supervisor would show up and check us in. He got suspicious. About a month ago, when we brought our terrorist friend in, he showed up to inspect our plane and documents. When he pulled in, he found us with a prisoner drugged, cuffed and hooded. I was lucky enough to stop him from calling for backup. Cost me fifteen thousand dollars to shut him up. And I still think he only did it because he knew I’d shoot him and be out of there before his backup showed. Redlum was staring at Jeff to see if he was serious. He knows we’re CIA? Redlum asked. Wipe the blood off of your face. Jeff said as he handed him a napkin. No. He doesn’t know anything at all. He probably thinks we’re smuggling drugs or guns. The important thing is that he knows that his supervisor will file a report in twenty minutes saying He was here and everything checks out. There isn’t anything he can do without contradicting his boss and probably losing his job.."

The man began walking toward their van. Is that why he was brought back up? So he could have witnesses to corroborate his story? Redum asked. His stomach was tied up in knots. No, I doubt it. All he has us on now is having guns. He can’t get into the tablets and he’d have to detain us to get any answers. Meanwhile, his supervisor is probably eating lunch right now and would have to rush in and release us to avoid some very awkward questions about his false reports he filed... If I had to guess, he brought backup so I wouldn’t shoot him. He wants money. How much did they give you? Redlum grabbed his satchel and pulled out the envelope with U.S. dollars. 10k He replied. That oughta do it. Jeff replied.

The customs agent approached the driver’s side window.  Jeff hit the button and the window began to drop and screeched and stopped with a clunk halfway down. Sorry agent Lee, the window is broken. What can I do for you? Lee smiled revealing his yellow teeth. Jeff, my good friend, it appears that you almost forgot to go through customs again. I’m sure you’re aware that you are required to wait in the hanger until an agent can check you in. As Lee spoke his breath wafted into the van. It made Redlum’s stomach churn, or it could have just been the fear. Jeff sighed, Yes, but nobody showed up and we’re in quite a hurry. Time is money.  I was just telling my friend in the car over there that same thing. You Americans fly in on your hundred thousand dollar chartered flights to make millions of dollars and don’t want to be held up with paperwork."

That’s right. Jeff said. We are in a hurry, so here are our passports, as well as our Immunity Passports. Jeff put the envelope inside of his passport and then handed it through the window. Lee took the passport and turned away from the other car so they wouldn’t see him slip the envelope into his pocket. It’s good to see you again Jeff. I’ll see you next time. Just let me tell my men that everything checks out and we will be out of your way." Lee started back for the cars at the hanger door.

Jeff put the car back in drive and began slowly moving toward them. See, all people really want is money.  The marked car began to back out of the hanger and Jeff sped through the gap, just missing Lee on his way back to his car.

Within a minute they were out of the private airport and on a busy street. Traffic was almost at a standstill, waiting to get through the immunity checkpoint. He thought those would go away after the pandemic, but they never did. Everywhere you went you ran the risk of getting stopped by soldiers that made you swipe your Immunity Passport and verify you were up to date on your vaccinations.

The sidewalks were covered by pedestrians walking around. Redlum looked at them thinking about what Jeff had just said. Each person was walking somewhere. With the exception of the few tourists taking selfies, each one appeared to be rushed.  Heading home, to work, perhaps to meet friends or family for dinner. Is it possible that Jeff was right? At the end of the day did everyone just care about money? Is that all that matters? He spotted a businessman in a very nice suit walking alongside them. He was obviously in a hurry, yelling at someone on the phone. Redlum figured that the gold watch the man was wearing probably cost more than Redlum’s annual salary at the agency. And still, here he was walking down the street yelling at someone on the phone like the world was ending.

It crossed Redlum’s mind just how close the world had come to ending. There was a brief period when the bubble burst when banks, the stock markets and just about every retail store had all but shut down. People around the world began to riot. Looting was the first thing to happen. Then as people grew more desperate, they began to steal from each other. Millions of people were killed in just a month. But then the International Monetary Fund stepped in with a plan. They organized all of the central banks and bailed out the world. He would never forget the day the U.S. government announced that the banks had been reopened and every citizen would have $2,000 Fedcoin deposited into their account. The president had promised that every citizen would receive regular monthly deposits until businesses could rebuild and get people back to work.

The rioting seemed to stop overnight. The next day he had to wait two hours to get into the grocery store. Another three hours to get his groceries and checkout. But he could remember the faces of everyone in the store. Despite the fact that the shelves were sparsely stocked with government MRE’s and canned goods that had been seized by the military from warehouses before looters could get there, people were smiling. They were happy. Most of them had been hiding in their homes starving, and watching their kids starve. That was the first time they had been able to go shopping, the first glimpse of hope since the world crashed. And now, just a year later, people have managed to fall right back into their bad habits. 

There was a loud thud and the car suddenly jerked to a stop snapping  Redlum out of his daydream. Jeff had hit someone. The man pulled himself up from the street  and picked up his phone. Then smacked the hood of the van . He appeared to be homeless, there were alot more homeless since the reset. Watch where you’re fucking walking! Jeff yelled out at him.. The man yelled back at him in another language. And kept on walking across the street in between cars. You never get used to that. Jeff said. People just walk right out into the street. They are oblivious to what's going on around them. Isn’t that the truth? Redlum thought to himself. 

Traffic began to pick up and they were getting out of the city. Redlum was seeing apartments and a few houses instead of just businesses. Jeff made an abrupt turn off the road into a driveway. A large, ornate gate swung open granting them access to a cobblestone driveway lined with Japanese maples on both sides. The tires chirped as Jeff came to a stop in front of an old house. Redlum looked at the house confused. It was old. The stairs and porch were made out of stone. And the house was brick but everything looked very aged. The paint on the pillars along the porch had paint peeling, the window trim was cracked and the roof was missing shingles.

I thought we were going to the prison? Redlum asked, confused. We’re here. Jeff replied with a smile. Now grab your purse, let’s go. Redlum reached into the backseat and retrieved his satchel. As he headed to the porch he noticed that some of the stones in the driveway were pressed further into the ground, some of them were cracked too. As if something heavy had been parked there. As he reached the top of the stairs he noticed that the door, in stark contrast to the rest of the house, was brand new. As Jeff knocked, it sounded like it was steel and heavy.

Redlum lifted his eyes off the tracks and back up to follow Jeff up to the front door. Seemingly knowing that Redlum had been staring at the tracks Jeff said They’re from the crane. We needed it for the remodel.

There was a loud mechanical clicking noise as the deadbolt unlocked. The door opened and Jeff walked in, Redlum followed. As soon as he stepped in, his attention was drawn to a large concrete box at one side of the living room. The ceilings were high, maybe twelve feet and the box stopped about a foot below the ceiling. It extended about three feet from the wall and was about six feet long. The door slammed behind him. Startled, Redlum turned around to see a man in his early thirties, wearing a white button down shirt and 511 slacks. As the man turned from locking the deadbolt Redlum could see the screen on the tablet the man was holding. The screen was divided into four monitors showing what looked like live feeds from security cameras around the property.

You can call me Matt. The man said as he reached his hand out toward Redlum. David Redlum,  He replied as he shook his hand. Let me show you a room where you can set your things down. Matt said and nodded at Redlum’s satchel. Okay. Redlum said and they walked across the living room into the hallway. With a closer look Redlum could see that the box was made of concrete slabs bolted together. When they reached the hallway there was an open door. He looked inside and could see that the other half of the box extended into a bathroom.

Matt entered the next room and Redlum followed him in. It was, like the rest of the house, very nice but old and in need of some work. The walls were covered with a very colorful wallpaper that was peeling in places. And the furniture and lamps were very nice and gold trimmed. Go ahead and leave your things here. But you need to be briefed in the kitchen. Matt said politely. In the kitchen? Redlum asked. Yeah. Boss’ favorite room. and with that, Matt walked back into the living room.

Redlum sat his things on the bed and walked back into the living room. He could see Jeff standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Jeff turned and waved him in. Redlum stepped into the kitchen. It smelled of steak. Real steak. He could hear the sizzle of meat on the skillet to his left. He felt his mouth water immediately. How can these guys afford real meat? I haven’t had a real steak since the reset. It’s not that I haven’t seen it in the stores, I just can’t afford the carbon tax on it... How can they?

He turned and saw an older man standing over the stove. He was slightly overweight and broad in the shoulders. His hair was mostly gray with just a little black  scattered throughout. Are you the warden? Redlum blurted out. Jeff and the old man laughed and he could hear Matt stifle a laugh in the living room. Redlums face felt flush and he looked down at his feet. The warden? I like that rookie. Most people here call me boss. Warden works just fine though. Once Redlum could see his face he realized the man wasn’t as old as he initially thought. Maybe late forties or early fifties. But he had aged badly. His skin was weathered, he had crows feet and bags under his eyes. The warden turned and flipped his steak with a fork. He reached over and grabbed a salt shaker and shook out enough salt to season at least five steaks. Then he turned off the stove and used the fork to transfer the steak to a plate. After he put the plate on the table, he extended his hand out to Jeff who handed him a tablet. The warden wiped his free hand on his pants leaving a streak of grease and then proceeded to swipe and tap on the tablet. He opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. Not a word was said as the warden opened the beer, sat down and took a few long swigs from the bottle. He never took his eyes off the tablet and nodded his head a