The Gillespie Five (A Political / Conspiracy Novel) - Book 1 (42) (29 page)

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Alex hadn't seen or heard from anyone in at least two or three days from what he could remember.  Not since the incident in the yard when he and Frank had broken up the fight.  Only the regular delivery of meals let him know anyone was out there.  He’d meant to keep count of the days but lost track.  It was hard to explain what hours and hours of nothingness did over time.  He found himself forgetting things, talking out loud and sleeping for hours. 

He paced, jaw clenched, trying to fight the silence.  The questioning about what he and the doctor had been talking about had stopped, though sometimes he thought a beating would have been better than the endless string of silence.  He guessed that whatever they needed to know about the doctor they had found out and he wondered if they had stopped her before she had been able to get the keyloggers in place. 

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was beginning to lose hope.  He knew it could be weeks, months, even years more before they saw the light of day again if the FBI chose to make it so.  

Eventually a noise, seeming as if it came from far away, invaded Alex's thoughts.  It took a moment, even after the door opened, to realize what was happening.  A guard stepped into the cell and walked to Alex, pulling his arms behind his back and snapping on zip ties. 

"Where are we going?"

He hadn't expected the guard to answer so was not surprised when he was simply shoved forward toward the door.  In a bit of a daze, he followed the guards down a series of twists and turns that had started to haunt his dreams.  In them, he was free and trying to find his nephew.  He ran and ran but always came up against a dead end.  And then the guards would find him and take him back to the interrogation room.  Which is where it looked like they were headed now. 

Instead, they started up a series of stairs and he realized they were taking him outside.  When they finally stopped at a door, the guard flung it open and pushed Alex through, slamming the door behind him. 

Momentarily blinded, as usual, Alex stopped, blinking against the painful glare and trying to ignore the already oppressive heat that engulfed him.  Another pair of hands shoved him forward and, as his sight cleared, he saw the other detainees huddled close together, not far from where there used to be a fence.  After a moment, he realized all but the camouflage and fencing immediately surrounding the door had been removed.

Puzzled, he started to walk toward Tommy when his guard yanked him back, placing him by the door.  A short man in a dark suit stepped forward, the guards lined the rest of the detainees up. 

Alex watched as the man with his dark hair, slicked back to barely disguise a balding dome, walked over to them.  Everything about him screamed FBI.  He stepped in front of each of them, checking them out like a commander sizing up his men.  When he got to Alex, he all but curled his lip.

"Had to be one of our own," was all he said, before stepping back and addressing the group.  "As of today our investigations are concluded.  You will all be transferred to a federal facility to await your trial.  If you're lucky, you may see the inside of a courtroom in a year.  You people disgust me, taking advantage of innocent civilians and especially for your acts of treason against this country.  Personally, I hope you get lost in the system and never see your day in court.  You don't deserve it."

Alex saw sudden movement to his right.  "Let me go, you damn commies!"

He rolled his eyes as Wayne began struggling with the guards, managing to punch one in the face before another finally rapped him on the head hard enough to stun him.  Wayne’s efforts stopped immediately as he tried to remain conscious.  The agent, looking disgusted, turned on his heel and walked to a waiting car.  Climbing in the front, Alex saw him motion to the driver and the car sped out, kicking a trail of dust in everyone’s face.  Alex thought he heard the guards cursing as they forced the detainees into a circle before going to stand under what little shade the cliff side afforded.  The heat, already unbearable, increased. 

An hour passed as they sat with no water, waiting for what, Alex wasn't sure.  At one point he leaned over to try and talk to Tommy and was kicked for his effort by one of the guards, who told him to be silent.  Alex felt the sting of sweat as it ran down his face and into his eyes, as the Colorado sun continued to beat down on them relentlessly.  Several times he tried unsuccessfully to wipe it away with his arms zip tied behind him.  He could feel needles of pain where the circulation was being cut off and stiffness set into his legs and back from sitting for so long.  They all watched the guards drinking from their bottles of water and laughing out loud as they occasionally spilled water on the ground just out of reach of the group.  Feeling the dizziness that accompanied dehydration, Alex cast a worried glance over at Tommy.  But it was Uday who passed out first.

Alex cursed and called to the guards, who glanced over at the prostrate Uday as if he were nothing more than trash.  As Alex and then Frank began to holler at the guards, listing off offenses that could cause the guards to be arrested themselves, one of the guards seemed to relent.  Reluctantly he motioned for two of the others to follow and they walked over to move Uday into the shade.  But they brought no one water.  They all went back to waiting.

As the sun began its descent, bringing no relief, Alex wondered if the plan was to leave them all out to die in the sun.  He had just begun to convince himself of this fact, when he heard the distant rumble of vehicles.  He twisted to look over his shoulder as several cars and military trucks pulled in and with them, more guards and a few men in suits. 

The other guards jumped to attention when the new arrivals began pouring out of the vehicles, shouting orders.  Within minutes, equipment appeared from inside the building and was quickly loaded onto the trucks.  It seemed the entire operation was being moved, along with the detainees. 

At one point, the guards moved the group off to the side – apparently to get them out of the way of the flow of traffic - and lined them up against the cliff near the door and went back to ignoring them.   Realizing that they weren't being paid attention to, Wayne started complaining, talking about how they were going to just make them disappear, probably shoot them and dump their bodies.  His rants got slightly louder, momentarily drawing the attention of one of the guards, until Frank told him to shut up before the guard did it for him.  He mumbled for a few moments longer before falling into a sullen silence. 

Alex turned to Tommy.  Mouth dry from lack of water, he tried to ask, "How you holding up there?"  The question came out a hoarse whisper.

Tommy shrugged listlessly. 

"We're going to be out of here soon.  Then you'll be able to see your parents." 

Alex realized his voice didn't sound nearly as hopeful as he’d like.  When Tommy didn't reply, Alex sat back against the cliff wall, trying to stretch the cramps from his legs.   He heard the rattling of handcuffs and turned to see Wayne fidgeting.  The noise started to get on his nerves.

"Will you stop moving around?"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole."

Alex took a deep breath, telling himself that at least Wayne wasn't complaining, and turned back to watch the activity.  It was a few moments before it sank in that while the rest of them were zip tied, Wayne had regular handcuffs on.  Deciding there was no reason for all the madness, he kept quiet.

After a while, it seemed the guards had forgotten them and that was when Wayne decided he was going to make a break for it.  Alex heard Wayne slowly rise and turned to find him pushing into a crouched position, his hands somehow free of cuffs. 

Frank whispered, "Sit your ass down!"

Wayne ignored him, and when no guards raised an alarm, he started to move toward an out cropping of rocks in front of where they now sat.  He’d just made it to the edge of the outcropping when a guard shouted.

"Stop!"

Wayne ran.

A moment later a shot rang out and Alex watched as Wayne collapsed, clutching his leg and screaming.

Stupid fool.

Alex felt some remorse at his thoughts as Wayne continued to scream.  The guy was an idiot.  But a scared and injured one.  Alex had no doubt Wayne believed that the FBI was planning on making their bodies disappear.  He caught a glimpse of Tommy's whitened face and clenched his teeth.  When he turned to Frank, it was to find him staring across the desert to an outcropping of cliffs, a perplexed look on his face.

Before Alex could ask Frank what was wrong, he felt himself suddenly yanked up by the arm and pushed at gun point toward one of the vehicles.  "Move it!"

"Someone get the stupid ass off the ground, bandage him up and throw him in with the rest."

They were all piled into one of the trucks and a few minutes later the doors closed, muting the chaos from outside.  As the truck pulled out, all Alex could hear were Wayne's moans and the sound of someone trying to hold back tears. 

011001000111100101101001011011100110011100100000

John's breath caught the moment Wayne had risen.  The moment the detainees had been brought out, he had started recording.  He’d been watching as the activity increased throughout the day, counting the number of guards and the type of equipment coming out of the building. 

The shot rang loud and clear but his audio wouldn’t pick it up.  It looked like a clean shot, but John held his breath until he saw Wayne moving.  It wasn’t until then that he remembered to put his low-caliber rifle down and concentrate on the rest of the scene.

As guards scattered back and forth, he scanned the group and noticed Frank staring up at the cliffs where John lay concealed.  He had warned the man on the phone that Frank would know the minute he fired that it wasn’t the guard’s weapon that had taken Wayne down.  But that was in their hands now.

Waiting until the group was loaded and heading out, he stopped the recording and began submitting the video via satellite uplink.  Then he hit redial on his phone.

"Is it done?"

"Yes.  Now what?"

"Your wife will be in the clinical trial by the end of the week.  If the statistics they’ve shown so far prove consistent, she’ll be out of her coma and talking to you and your lovely daughters within a few months, if not sooner."

John felt his heart constrict as he hung up.  It killed him to be caught in this situation, but he knew it was worth it.  His daughters needed their mother.  And so did he.   But he allowed himself a grim smile as he picked up his laptop to watch the progress of the video upload.  Once he was sure his wife was well again, he had more evidence to send Nathan to start
another
investigation.  This time to investigate whatever assholes were pulling his strings.

Chapter Sixty

Michael tried to suppress another yawn unsuccessfully.  It had been over forty-eight hours since he’d last slept, and despite the fact that the energy drinks were making him twitchy, they weren’t doing very well at keeping him up anymore.  Not even half the shit – and it was some pretty cool shit – that they had found in Barrett’s emails could keep him awake.

Wiping his eyes, he turned back to his screen forcing himself focus as he, g@mb1t, and the others µβ had brought in continued to pour through every email Gillespie and Barrett had ever written, received, or deleted.  Thousands of emails.  Though they had some automated programs scanning for keywords, the process still required eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity, they had still found absolutely nothing from the senator's emails.  Well that wasn't exactly true.  They had found several things they could have fun with later, but not for what they were looking for.  Barrett's short visit, however, had netted them a wealth of information. 

Besides the several offshore accounts, each with increasingly larger deposits, they found paper trails showing when and how the detainees had been taken, and to where.  They had uncovered traces that proved that much of the information they had on the detainees was falsified, and evidence that interrogations had been sanctioned by the FBI, specifically the Director of the FBI.  The latter they already knew, thanks to their communications with the doctor, but now they could prove it.

And with the information they had formulated a plan that would decimate the senator, Barrett and the FBI.  Now Michael was wondering how much longer or how many more emails they had to go through before they launched their attack.  His sleep deprived mind wandered back to an earlier and strange conversation he’d had with one of the members of µβ. 

So why are we holding back releasing this information?

<µβ> Have you been watching the news?

Michael rolled his eyes.  Of course he had.  Hackers were making history with this campaign and its unprecedented coordinated attacks!  He typed as much.

<µβ> And that’s a problem.  We’ve done too well.

what?!  we can do so much more!

<µβ> We don’t have a choice but to finish what we started, but this campaign has come at a cost.

what are you talking about?

<µβ> the new laws

Perplexed, Michael waited as µβ began listing out a series of laws that had been passed over the last several weeks world-wide.  They all called for stricter control of information access.  His mind told him they seemed worse than they were though.  After all, they were just words on paper, usually backed up by lame attempts at enforcement.  Plus, hackers had been getting around those restrictions for years.

He typed this to µβ.

<µβ> That may be but there is more here than I think we fully understand yet.

like what?

<µβ> The passing of these laws were too well coordinated.  As if someone were expecting what we initiated, ready to capitalize on it.

what does that mean?

<µβ>Above all else?  I think it means that we’ve been used.

Surprised, Michael had asked for clarification but none came.  It was more than he had ever gotten from µβ and that fact, rather than the silence that followed, shook him more than he cared to admit.  A few moments later he asked if this was why some of the users like kh@n had been excluded.  But he never received an answer.

The ding of a chatroom invite interrupted his thoughts.  Logging in he saw that g@mb1t and µβ had already joined. 

<µβ>It’s time.

sweet!

Despite his excitement, the lingering feeling of dread left by the conversation he’d just been remembering, caused Michael to type:  I thought we wanted to wait?

<µβ>We’ve been given no choice.  We just received confirmation from one of Barrett’s recent emails that the detainees are being moved and prepared for federal prosecution.  We have to hit now before that news hits the public.  And before we potentially lose the five again.  Do you have everything ready?

good on MY end!  ready to rock this mfs?

good to go

letz pull the trigger then!!!

Michael felt a thrill of excitement as he came fully awake.  The biggest hack uncover of all time, and he was a part of it.  As he hit send on a script that he and three of the others had built, he began laughing.  In a few hours, everything they had found would be released world-wide.  Gillespie and Barrett were about to find out exactly what it meant to be pwnd.

As the command prompt began scrolling with data, Michael pulled out his camera and took a selfie, being sure to capture the computer screen.  A hack attack this big needed to be memorialized.