Keystone of the Fifth Column: Idiomerica Book 5

By J. M. Fagan

The Jargonauts would like nothing better than for the truth to come into focus like a Polaroid photo, with a clear and favorable outcome, a phoenix from the ashes, a swan from an ugly duckling. But they are plagued by setbacks, false leads, and dashed hopes. The head of the snake is elusive, and the multitudes under Pharma influence have become

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nitrous Oxide Press
• Release date: Feb 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9780999247396

J. M. Fagan

Sometimes called Dr. Death (no connection to Kevorkian), having survived over a dozen near-death experiences, J. M. Fagan has found a safer way to face danger vicariously through fiction writing. The fly fisher, woodworker, flamenco and classical guitarist, and forty-year Oregon educator graduated from Northern Arizona University and Lewis & Clark College and completed further studies at universities in Eastern Oregon, Madrid, and Tokyo.

Book preview

cover.jpgIdiomerica: The Quintessential Account of Mason and the Jargonauts in the Quests for the Gordian Keys, by J. M. Fagan

The IDIOMERICA Series

Book 1: Through the Keyhole to One L of a Mess

Book 2: Keyed Up in Seconds

Book 3: Key Figures Get the Third Degree

Book 4: Passkey to the Formulary

Book 5: Keystone of the Fifth Column

Book V: Keystone of the Fifth Column

Keystone of the Fifth Column

Nitrous Oxide Press, LLC, Tigard, OR 97223

©2017 by J. M. Fagan

All rights reserved. Published by Nitrous Oxide Press, LLC. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

No characters in the story depict real people, living or deceased, and any resemblance would be pure coincidence. Nor are the names of any products or businesses that were created for the story meant to represent or characterize any that may be real. However, the plants and substances, and many of the locations and businesses, are real. My apologies for any errors in their depictions. The story is meant to be a fun read, and no offense is intended toward any person, group of persons, company, entity, race, gender, religion, or creed.

Editing and design by Indigo: Editing, Design, and More

ISBN: 978-0-9992473-9-6

Saving the best for last: for my beloved wife, Patty, who patiently endured endless hours of my isolation at the computer during the past five years. Without her inspiration and encouragement, I would never have completed the Idiomerica series. And for all the readers who have traveled this far and are able to finish the journey. I hope the ride will have been worthwhile.

Contents

Series Title Page

Book Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1. Shedding Light

2. What’s Cooking?

3. A Peace Offering

4. A Shakedown

5. Getting Fleeced

6. A Figure of Speech

7. Just a Stone’s Throw Away

8. Give ’Em the Finger

9. The Power Behind the Throne

10. Uncivil War

11. Extenuating Circumstances

12. Safe Harbor?

13. A Tempest in a Teapot

14. Touching Bases

15. Stop the Music

16. Attending to Details

17. Trials and Tribulations

18. Setting the Record Straight

19. Fancy Meeting You Here

20. Afoul of the Law

21. Judgment Day

22. Who’s Who?

23. Having a Blast

24. Surprise Party

25. Head Over Heels

26. Saving the Best for Last

Epilogue

A Note from the Author

1

Shedding Light

How often would you consider the kidnapping of the president of the United States and eleven other top government officials a good thing? If you’d asked me that question not long ago, I’d have laughed in your face, calling the notion lunacy, a flight of fancy falling somewhere between a terrorist dream in the land of make-believe and a wet dream of the opposite political party on drugs. The success of such a feat would assuredly spell disaster either for the country or for those who would dare to perpetrate such a heinous act.

And yet, that’s exactly what we’d just done, we being a small band of teachers and selected allies, red-blooded, patriotic Americans, whose mission had become to save the country from total designer-drug-induced servitude by a powerful organization that was secretly embedded within the higher echelons of government and society—and on the brink of completing their goal.

My dear friend Rosie Outlook, and many other good people since, had been killed by the ruthless Pharma organization to silence any and all who would interfere in their plan for absolute dominance. Before she died, Rosie asked me to enlist a team of trusted, competent members to combat the Pharma machine. For many months, our team, which we called Mason and the Jargonauts, led by yours truly, Cliff Hangar, had been scouring the fifty states and some US territories. We’d been traveling in the Jargo van and other modes of transportation, risking life and limb to find the perpetrators, their research and production labs, their guinea pig testing labs, and the many plants and substances that composed the recipes they used to facilitate their conspiratorial ambition. Our scientists had been working feverishly to create antidotes to the formulas that were administered to key people in various levels of society, especially the formula that Pharma had secretly hidden within store-shelf foods and supplements consumed by millions of unwitting Americans.

We’d already lost Jargonauts Anna Phase and Mason Quark, along with several allies, at the hands of Pharma hit men. Our remaining teammates, Ethyl Acetate, Tara Byte, Vern Acular, Donny Brook, Bertha Vanation, Flora Bunda, Fauna Ponem, Nola Contendere, and Nora Pinephrine, along with our COMMAND Center computer button allies and other supporters we’d gathered along the way, were a bit worse for wear. Yet they all remained steadfast, resourceful, and resolute. Although we’d captured and killed many of the Pharma operatives and continued to quietly gather a growing number of allies, we were still way outnumbered.

I was hiding out with a few of the Jargonauts and allies in the warehouse we’d acquired to hold the Pharma operatives we’d kidnapped earlier in a raid on their main lab in Cleveland. We had successfully deprogrammed those operatives by dosing them with our antidote and were waiting nervously along with them for information from our teams that had abducted and sequestered the new president and the other dignitaries we called the Dirty Dozen.

Our exhaustive search to uncover the Pharma leadership through interrogation of operatives we’d captured and code cracking to hack their communication networks revealed evidence pointing to the conspiracy of the Dirty Dozen, who had suspiciously become successors to the top offices of their predecessors, who had been murdered. The Dirty Dozen were guilty of the murders as well as the treasonous acts of overthrowing the government and of drugging the entire populace into submission under the mask of Pharma. Now, not only had we finally ID’d them, but we had also managed to pull off kidnapping them. It was a slam dunk.

But not so fast. Something was wrong. The Dozen’s answers and behavior in captivity raised some red flags. Perhaps they weren’t the masterminds but rather drugged dupes, puppets of an even higher power still hidden away, pulling their strings. If so, the thrill of victory was feeling more like the agony of defeat. Who were the kingpins? Had all our months of hellish pursuit been in vain?

When I broke the news to our team of some Jargonauts and allies seated at the long mess table in the warehouse, all stared in disbelief. So, you’re saying the Dirty Dozen—the new president and the other successors to our highest government and military offices, the evilest traitors in our country’s history and the targets of our grueling endeavor—may not be the Pharma megalomaniacs after all? said Donny.

How could we have missed that possibility? asked Lieutenant Farmer.

It’s hard to think of everything, I said. If we had, we could have gotten a few DNA samples in advance and maybe had a new antidote ready to go.

It would still have taken too long. We could all be dead before the week is over. Donny’s face reflected the disappointment of everyone in the room. We had our sights set on winding down our mission successfully. Now we had to gear up for ever-greater obstacles and frustrations.

This about-face certainly muddies the waters, I said. I don’t know about the rest of you, but if our demise is near, I don’t want to spend what’s left of our lives in a pity party.

He’s right, said Vern. "Maybe it wasn’t in the cards to end our mission so soon. We’ve been dealt a slap in the face and a speed bump on our road to success, but we can still investigate leads to find out who is controlling the Dirty Dozen."

I think you’re onto something there, said Donny, perking up. Who’d want the mission to end so soon when we’re just starting to have fun?

Whether that’s sour grapes or sarcasm, said Vern, the fact is, someone’s got the Dozen in their pocket. He or she or they must be pretty secretive. Our time clock may run out soon, but we do have some resources.

We do, I said. There are some persons of interest out there we still don’t know much about, like Ella Vanote; Vladimir Ladd; Matchitehew; Lou Poll; Leger Demain; Ruby Begonia; Morris Code, aka MoCo; Cassandra; the regional managers; some of the lab managers; top scientists like Amín Olacid; and others, like news mogul Diane Rottinhell, aka Mama Rotsy. If we can’t get an antidote that works on the Dirty Dozen, or if the one we have doesn’t work on them, we can at least redouble our efforts to find out who’s out there calling the shots.

We’re with you, said Matt Bastardson, helping to rally the troops.

Thanks, I said. Our options aren’t looking so great, but if there’s a thread of hope, we’ll be dangling from it. A chuckle and sounds of unifying agreement came from the nervous group. Any other suggestions for the good of the order?

It’s interesting that the people around the country we’re seeing on the news are concerned and somewhat worried, but unless it’s being covered up, I’ve not heard of any mass suicides yet, said Paula Revere.

That’s right. They wouldn’t be stocking up their larders if they were getting ready to kill themselves, said Jesse Jameson.

Maybe they’re afraid the supply of the foods and supplements they’re addicted to will get cut off, said Sparky.

Maybe it’s a sign that the real perpetrators aren’t the Dirty Dozen, said Lieutenant Farmer.

Good points, I replied.

I have a question for Rap Scallion, said Wild Bill Hitchcock.

Shoot, Rap replied.

I know we’ve questioned you to death already, but as a deprogrammed former lab manager, is there anything about the names Cliff just brought up that we missed or that might jog your memory? Even if remotely related?

We were pretty isolated in the lab. I’ve met with Ella and Amín and my boss, P. F. Liar, on occasion. I didn’t particularly like any of them, but I doubt they were top leaders. I’ve heard of some of the others. If the lab managers were all like me, they were being controlled by someone else rather than being the kingpins. I just couldn’t say. I never met any of the other regional managers that I can remember, but I have seen Ruby Begonia a time or two. I’m not sure what her purpose is. I’ve never met Cassandra or Vladimir Ladd, but now that you mention it, I remember Amín speaking to someone about Vladimir on the phone once when he didn’t know I was listening. Amín almost seemed afraid of Vladimir, like he had asked Amín to do something he didn’t want to do. When I look back on it, the whole operation seems pretty twisted. You can’t think logically when you’re controlled by the formula. Now it seems kind of ironic that we worked all that time to create the very potions that would forever control us. Sorry I can’t be of more help.

You’ve been a tremendous help, I said. Let’s all get busy on our research. Be especially on the lookout for info on Vladimir Ladd.

Is there a prize for the one who gets the most information? Donny asked, looking at Vern. He liked to rub it in. After losing the contest with Donny and having manned up to perform the humorous but embarrassing skit in front of our crew at the warehouse, Vern stared daggers that could have stabbed holes right through Donny’s skull.

2

What’s Cooking?

Nerves were raw from lack of sleep and constant tension. At any minute, a team of armed troops could storm our warehouse or the locations of any of our allies or the secret locations of our Dirty Dozen captives. Fear of being hacked meant we took fewer chances looking online for the monstrous barbarians who had the Dirty Dozen wrapped around their little fingers.

One late night while taking my turn on guard duty, I was pondering something that just didn’t add up. Why was it so easy for Webb Masters to get all of the names of the Dirty Dozen? Then it hit me like a bolt out of the blue. The answer is simple, I thought, smacking my palm against my forehead. Morris Code, Pharma’s key computer wizard, could have wanted Webb to find them. Maybe the true villains were using the Dozen as figureheads and decoys to steer us all away from themselves. But who the hell were they? And how could they have engineered and covered up such a huge scam to take over one of the most powerful countries in the world? The only answer I could arrive at was the lust for power driven by money. Lots of money.

It gave me an idea. I called our attorney and good friend, Nola Contendere, to pick her brain. After several rings, I almost regretted waking her up.

Mmm…hello…, she murmured.

Sorry to wake you up.

Oh…don’t worry about it. I had to get up anyway to answer the phone. At least she had a sense of humor about it. What’s up?

I hate to bother you, Nola. I know you’re working overtime on the case as it is, but I need some information. Has your team run across any names of persons who could be top Pharma brass, especially ones we haven’t heard of yet?

You mean besides the new president and her coconspirators? she said with a yawn. I thought you already had—

So did we, but I have a sneaking suspicion they’re not the top. They’re pawns like the rest of the country.

I just woke up, Nola said in confusion. Are you sure?

Not a hundred percent, but I’ve got a hunch the organization goes deeper than we imagined. Key puzzle pieces we’ve been uncovering along the way are starting to point in that direction. For example, how would the Dirty Dozen get the kind of money to fund the whole shebang?

I hope our connection is secure, she muttered under her breath. But she went on. Tracking the Pharma paper trail has been challenging. It’s plain as day they’re up to no good, but we don’t yet have enough data to build an airtight case. However, the evidence is mounting. The levels of deceit and cover-ups could be staggering. It seems that the BBB, the FDA, the FTC, and a few others are either in on it or are looking the other way. To corroborate your theory, Cliff, they’re making a killing, raking in the cash hand over fist. An astronomical amount of money is being made off the Pharma food, drink, and supplement industry, but the seed money had to be more than I would expect from super PACs or your run-of-the-mill venture or vulture capitalists. We’re talking some real heavy hitters.

Mafia? Banks?

We’re not sure yet, but a number of legitimate competitor food and drug companies have been hornswoggled by Pharma operators who are putting the squeeze on them and are poised for leveraged buyouts and hostile takeovers. Interestingly, they can also take advantage of a competitor in what’s sometimes called a gray knight takeover, where a third bidder is involved.

You mean Pharma’s intent is a complete monopoly?

Apparently. They have deep pockets, and they play dirty pool. It’s a big shell game using all manner of shell companies, hidden offshore accounts, slush funds, price fixing, piracy, outright fraud, phantom income, tax evasion, guerilla marketing, and invisible exports, plus black-market and back-office, under-the-table deals. Several of the labs double as manufacturers and distributors of the Pharma products using their own transportation and machinery. If they aren’t already, they’ll soon be the only game in town. Everyone else will be working for them.

Not if we can help it. Do you have any names?

There are a few so far, with more to come, I’m sure. Got a pencil?

Ready.

Here are some of their movers and shakers: Colin Put, who I believe is a market insider; Lisa Quisition, a real estate broker; two loan sharks, Yu Zury and Lona Mortization; Zero Inon, who does some sales, advertising, and marketing; Lacy Faire and Ty Coon, vulture capitalists; Manny Festo, a public relations propagandist; and Frieda Livery, a distribution and transportation coordinator.

What an eye-opener. I won’t ask how you did it, but you are incredible.

I had some help, she said modestly. Some of this is speculation. More evidence is needed, but we think these people may essentially be pawns hired to fudge the numbers and cook the books to facilitate a lot of Pharma’s shady deals.

Any other names besides the Book Cookers you might have run across, maybe without any known connection?

There are a couple. I’ve heard mentioned a Vladimir Ladd and an Ahmad something or other. That’s all I know, except I think they could be important.

You’ve just helped a bunch. Hope you can get back to slee—wait a minute! Nah, it couldn’t be.

Couldn’t be what?

Oh, nothing, it’s just…

Speak up.

I know our country’s a melting pot and all that, but Vladimir and Ahmad. Could they—

Are you thinking they could be foreigners?

It’s pretty remote, and you can laugh, but what if they’re representatives of foreign interests?

You mean like in a foreign buyout or takeover?

Pretty ridiculous, I know, but it would explain where the grubstake could have come from to fund the Pharma machine. Russia. Arab countries. They’ve never seemed to like us much anyway. The Arab countries could provide a lot of funding with the very money we gave them in exchange for oil. And they could get away with it, because most of our country is now drugged into submission.

Nola paused before answering. You know, I wouldn’t normally consider that. It’s so unbelievable. But in the context of world political hostilities these days, almost anything goes. Why not?

I hope to hell it’s not the case, but we could expand our search horizons a bit. If it’s true, the monster just grew exponentially. They could nuke us, but then everything would be contaminated with radiation. This way they’d get us and everything we have. They could defeat us in World War III without firing a shot.

Let’s not panic yet. We should inform our teams and advise them to look farther out to either confirm or refute your hypothesis. Just the thought of it gives me cold chills.

Even if it’s true, it can’t change our determination to prevail, I said. "We’ll need a hell of a lot more allies. Right now I think our best bet will be to get the antidote to as many people as possible. Once again our lab scientists will have to pull a rabbit out of the hat under an extreme time constraint. Getting an antidote for the Dirty Dozen is also a priority. If we can pull that off, they should be able