Devlin Sub Rosa: Book Three of the Devlin Quatrology
Page 24
“No, no, no. Fuckin' bitch 'at stole my parking spot!”
“Your parking spot? Didn't know you had one.”
“No, no, no. The one I was going for just now.”
“Ah.”
“Right in the circle, you know, close to the boardwalk.”
“Okay.”
“And you know how I like to back in?”
“Nope, never noticed.”
“Well, I do. Makes it easier for Herb to unload.”
“Okay.”
“So anyhow, I saw the spot and pulled past it, angled out, lining up to back in, had my turn signal on, and just as I started to back up, 'at fuckin' asshole redneck bitch snuck her nose in and blocked me.”
“Oh.”
“I lay on my fuckin' horn, waved her away, but” –
“Ah-ha. So that's what that was; I heard that.”
“But the bitch wouldn't move. So I got out and slapped the side of her fuckin' truck, yelled at her to move it. And she got out and pulled a fuckin' knife. Not a little one, a big fucker; musta been a foot and a half long.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. And she's waving that at me across the bed of the truck, tells me I'd better do the moving 'or I'll cut you up bad.'”
“Wow. So what'd you do?”
“I went back into our car to get my gun, but Herb stuck his feet on the glove box and wouldn't let me get it open. And then that fuckin' asshole bitch yelled at me, 'So what's it gonna be, ya little pussy? Move it or get cut. NOW!'”
“So what'd you do?”
“I yelled back at her, 'You wouldn't talk so big if you didn't have that knife, you goddamned fuckin' asshole redneck pussy bitch. I woulda gone for her, even with that pig-sticker, believe you me, but Herb was pulling me back into the car, the wuss, so I flipped her the bird and got back in. I so wanted to back into her truck, but Herb gave me the look, so I pulled out and found a space out past the dumpster. He's unloading now, but I wanna see where that bitch parks her fat ass.”
“Why?”
“'Cause if she doesn't have that knife with her, I'm gonna go kick her ass all the way up to Fort Myers, and – ah. Hey, Herb!”
“Hey, Red.”
“Did you get her plate number?”
“Yeah, but – hang on a second; lemme – ah. Yeah, I got it, but as soon as you were out of sight, she left.”
“She what?”
“She backed out, slowed as she passed our car, took a good look at it and me, gave me the finger, laid some rubber and left the lot. I quick shut the trunk and got that space.”
“Goddammit, so that fuckin' bitch got away! Wait up!”
“Hi, Gordy.”
“Oh, hi, Ro.”
“What's up with her?”
“Shh. Wait'll she's gone and I'll tell you. Okay; all clear.”
“Anything to do with that red pickup that peeled out of the lot?”
“Oh, yeah. The woman in the pickup cut her off and took the parking spot she was backing into and they got into an argument. And then Sonya said she pulled out a big knife and threatened her.”
“Sonya pulled it out or the woman did?”
“The woman; sorry. So Herb pulled Sonya back into their car and they found another spot. So she's pissed and needed to vent.”
“Poor thing. She's wound so tight, and so angry all the time.”
“Yup. Like she's in perpetual PMS.”
“Or maybe she's in early menopause; hot flashes and all that. It was pretty tough for me twenty years ago.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah; be glad you didn't know me back then.”
“Okay; I'm glad. But Sonya can go from zero to a hundred in half a second … and over the tiniest things.”
“And she's not at zero very much at all.”
“Y'got that right, Ro. Reminds me of Ron; he was wound pretty tight, too.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Love to be a fly on the wall if those two ever got into it. Too bad it probably won't happen.”
“When does he get out?”
“Another year, I think. That record gave him a much stiffer sentence than a first offender would have gotten.”
“Yeah; I had no idea he had such a history.”
“Yup. His temper's gotten him into a lot of trouble over the years.”
“And his ego.”
“Oh, y'got that so right.”
- 103 -
June 19, 2013
8:13 p.m. local time
St. Tropez, France
“Overnight?”
“Yup; all coordinated. But again, when they get in and steal all the money middle class people have in their brokerage accounts and bank accounts, anywhere they're keeping their savings, their goal is not to get the money for themselves, but simply to impoverish the middle class in the US, as well as in the UK, Canada, Ireland, Germany, Sweden, Norway, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and most other Western nations, simultaneously and with zero warning.”
“Wow. But how can they do that?”
“Oh, they've already got everybody's personal information, thanks to the IRS and Obamacare in the US and” –
“And the NSA.”
“Yup, them too. And the credit agencies and similar systems all around the world. Privacy? It's dead, gone, kaput.
“These guys have been hacking into all those systems for years, even using dupes to hack into department store and other databases to steal credit card information, letting them steal from their victims and keep the money or stuff as their reward, all without ever revealing themselves, and they've been collating all this info into their own databases, preparing for Tuesday, September 6th, 2016, when the massive thefts of people's money begin.”
“There's an actual date in the schedule?”
“Yup.”
“In that document?”
“Yup. Wanna see it?”
“Later; just keep on with the overview, okay?”
“Sure. Want some more wine?”
“No, thanks; I'm good.”
“Okay. So once the people are riled up about gas prices, rising interest rates and foreclosures and now the theft of their money, and the failure of the FDIC to cover their losses, since it's overwhelmed, what comes next is organized protests, and then rioting and vandalism of bank buildings, gas stations, oil company headquarters buildings and all the other businesses that the middle-class mobs will blame for the problems they've now got. All orchestrated, lemmings being brainwashed by the media, so that by early October, Obama, if he's still President, will be forced to declare martial law.”
“What do you mean, 'if he's still President'?”
“Depends on the election in November. If the Pubs take the Senate and keep the House, he'll be impeached in a Boston minute.”
“'Boston minute'? Don't you mean 'New York minute'?”
“I do? Ah, yeah, guess I do. I always get those two confused.”
“I know; no interest in sports.”
“Right.
“And if Obama or whoever is President doesn't bow down to his puppet-masters and make the declaration by October 8th, they have a contingency plan to force him into making it.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Oh, yeah, uh-oh f'sure. They'll explode nuclear bombs high in the atmosphere over the US, and the EMP'll kill all electronics, and that'll take out the internet, GPS, cell phones, airplanes, cars, the grid, everything that's got any electronics in it.”
“Everything?”
“Everything, down to microwave ovens, refrigerators, washing machines, TVs, anything with electronics in it.”
“But that'll destroy the whole society.”
“Precisely. That's a contingency, but if it's not needed in October, they're planning it for early 2018 regardless.”
“Regardless?”
“Yup. And as soon as martial law is declared, private citizens in the US will have less than a month to turn in any firearms they own or in their possession,
and after the first of November, the military and the police will be able to search for and confiscate them without a warrant, and they'll be authorized to arrest resisters and use deadly force if they even see someone with a gun.”
“Just for having a gun?”
“Yup; deadly force.”
“Kill them?”
“Yup. First Amendment be damned.”
“Don't you mean Second Amendment? And Fourth?”
“Yeah, okay. The whole Constitution will be dead over there.
“And since they will have control of almost all of the world's natural resources, they'll be able to distribute them when they want, to whomever they choose and at whatever price they want. And they'll hold back medicines and medical devices from the masses, so billions of people will die over the next few years.”
“Global death panels.”
“Yup. They'll also ban most of the stuff Mead's bunch wanted to get rid of, confiscate all gold and other precious metals and gems, make 'em illegal to hold, and whatever property remains in private hands after the foreclosures will also be confiscated.”
“Like the Third Reich or the Soviet Union. Or North Korea.”
“Yup. A global police state, run by a tight-knit group of dictators, on behalf of the elites who've planned it all … and their families and buddies.”
“Wow.”
“Now you wanna see the documents?”
“Yeah. And I think I'll take a refill on that wine, too.”
- 104 -
August 14, 2014
3:47 p.m. local time
Bonita Beach, Florida
“Hey, Dagi!”
“Hi, Gordy. Hi, Rosemary.”
“Hi, Dagi.”
“What's up?”
“Got a quick German question for you.”
“Okay. A translation?”
“Nope. Just want to hear you say something with your accent.”
“Okay. Vat?”
“'I think that what you did was very good.'”
“Vy? Vat did I do?”
“No, no; sorry. I meant could you say that with your accent.”
“Sure. Zat.”
“No, no, Dagi; I'm sorry. I'm trying to see how you would say those words with your accent.”
“No problemo. Zose vorts.”
“Oh, I'm sorry again. Hmm. Could you say 'I think'?”
“Sure. 'I sink.'”
“'That what.'”
“'Zat vat.'”
“'You did was very good.'”
“'You did vas wery good.'”
“Ah, got it; thank you.”
“Ah, go tit; sank you.”
“No, no, Dagi; that's it. We're done.”
“No, no, Dagi; that's – oh. Ah-ha.”
“Thanks.”
“No problemo.”
“What? Spanish?”
“Yeah. I'm schtudying it now.”
“Cool. Learning a lot?”
“Oh, ja. A lot more zan ven I schtudied Italian.”
“Really?”
“Ja. I only learned a wery few vorts.”
“Yeah?”
“Ja. Schpaghetti, ravioli, manicotti, linguini, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Maserati” --
“Oh, Dagi, now you're pulling my leg.”
“Gotcha, Gordy.”
“Oh, yeah, you did.”
“Anysing else?”
“Nope; that's it. Thanks again.”
“Vell, gotta run. Auf wieder-ciao.”
“Auf wieder-ciao? Good one.”
“Bye, Dagi.”
“What's so funny, Ro?”
“You missed it, Gordy.”
“Missed what?”
“She was pulling your leg through that whole thing, from the very beginning.”
“Oh, good; I was starting to wonder about her, if she'd had some kind of brain damage or something. She's usually super-bright.”
“And a great sense of humor. She winked at me when she started out with that.”
“Really? She did have me going there.”
“Yeah. But why did you want her to say that stuff?”
“For Dr. F; I wanted to hear the accent to get it right.”
“So you can write it right, right?”
“Right. Sondra didn't do that so much in 'Defiance,' and I missed it, too, when I reviewed it. So I wanna do it right in this one.”
“How you coming on it?”
“In the home stretch. But I don't think I'll have it done by next month. Probably do the launch in November, after the snowbirds have started coming back down.”
“Good idea. Anything I can do to help, you know all you have to do is ask.”
“I know; thanks, Ro.”
“Can I read what you've got so far?”
“Uh, not yet; it's not ready for anyone else's eyes. Still just first drafty.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“And you know what that horror author up in Maine said, 'All first drafts are crap,' right?”
“Uh, no; hadn't heard that.”
“Well, it's sure true for me. Early on, I kept wanting to just throw everything out and start over.”
“Oh, no!”
“I think I'm over that now, mostly. But sometimes it's more of a struggle than fun.”
“Like with Pam's flashbacks?”
“Yup. And now I'm struggling with something else, for Jake.”
“Can I help? What is it?”
“Nope, sorry; still gotta work that out myself.”
“Okay; I'm sure you will. But we'd better think about heading out; those clouds are getting closer.”
“What? Oh, crap! They are close. I wasn't paying attention.”
“How about I give you a massage before dinner?”
“Oh, that'd be nice. How about we swap 'em?”
“Mm; oh, yes. Let's go.”
- 105 -
June 19, 2013
9:34 p.m. local time
St. Tropez, France
“Wow, Jake, those documents are really scary.”
“Yup.”
“You weren't kidding.”
“Nope.”
“But I saw that that date had been changed, or at least it looked like that to me on that copy.”
“Yeah, I saw that, too; I think it was originally a September date in 2012, four years earlier. And that was what I'd heard at first, before we got those papers. So that's what got me trying to throw a wrench into their operations back then.”
“You?”
“Well, me and the whole team. And it looks like it worked; never saw the results they were looking for, did we?”
“Nope. So how did you waylay 'em?”
“Hang on a sec; lemme find something on the PC.”
“Okay.”
“Uh, um – ah, here we – okay, got it.”
“What's that?”
“It's an email I sent anonymously to every player we could find in every faction of the New World Order bunch. Go ahead, read it.”
“Okay.
“'If you or any of your co-conspirators implement your Master Plan at any time, whether it be on your target date of September 4, 2012, or any other date, OR if oil futures unexplainably rise above current levels, OR if any of the world's central banks begin to tighten interest rates at a faster pace than we think is reasonable in light of economic conditions, you and your entire family will be, if you will forgive the euphemism, terminated with extreme prejudice, and all of your assets, liquid or illiquid, will be taken from you and your estate. To put it bluntly, your lineage, dynasty and fortune will be unceremoniously wiped out, killed and confiscated. For purposes of this message, we will call that the Response.
“'Please review the enclosed photos and biographies of all of your descendants, as well as the enclosed list of all of your assets, and see for yourself whether our information is complete. We also have constant surveillance on all of your assets, and should you make any attempts to move or hide any of them, we will immediately initiate
the Response. Word to the wise.
“'Please also note that we will demonstrate our capabilities in the next month. Our apologies to the victim or victims of one of those demonstrations, who was or were selected solely for the seeming impossibility of being assassinated. We are not identifying him, her or them at this point, of course. You will know, however, as soon as you hear of his, her or their deaths, that he, she or they were our chosen victims.
“'A second part of our demonstration will be occasional shifts of some of your assets without your authorization. Note that we will not be TAKING those assets from you, simply switching them from one of your accounts to another. You will recognize these as they will all be in amounts with the figure '666' in them, e.g., 6.66 million, 66.6 million, 666 million, just so you can identify them quickly and reverse them, if you choose. (Some of you may find that number significant; feel free to read anything you want into it.) Any profits or losses as a result of those transfers will accrue to you, of course.
“'You've now been warned. Think carefully and act accordingly.
“'PS. We know you will want to try to trace this message back to its source and discover who sent it to you. Feel free to try, but be assured that you will only be wasting resources on that effort.'
“Holy shit, Jake! You really sent that?”
“Yup.”
“When?”
“Early in – let's see; what's the date at the top?”
“Um, March 5, 2011.”
“Okay; that's the date we sent it.”
- 106 -
August 17, 2014
10:27 a.m. local time
Raqqa, Syria
“Say again, Carie Berry; my earbud fell out.”
“I said go left.”
“Left? You sure?”
“Sure? No, but I think we can cut him off if we hurry.”
“What if he started running when he turned the corner?”
“Then you'd better pedal faster, Jillybean.”
“Hard to do when there's so many – oh, shit! That was close. Where'd she come from?”
“Out of that felafel stall, I think.”
“Didn't even look where she was going.”
“Or to see what might be coming up the aisle.”
“Uh-oh; there he goes, CB.”