by Gary Starta
Founder and CEO, SmartComputer, Inc.
Eric Schmidt, Jr.
Fundamentalist Leader, Syria
Abu Rashad
Four-Star General, U.S. Airforce
General Roger E. Rodriguez
Minister of Community Affairs, North Korea
Kim Jong-Un
CEO, Toro Electronics, Japan
Masayo Takamura
Secretary-General, United Nations
Ping Zhao
Human Resources Director, U.S. Department of Agriculture
Warren Houston
Lobbyist, Big Pharma
Dr. Harold Lucas
CEO, Big Blue Health Insurance
Louise Wicznefsky
Donation Coordinator, National Rifle Association
Robert Owens, Jr.
Research Fellow, Housing and Urban Development
Roberta Johnson
Secretary to the Pope
Giorgio Mastrantonio
Astrophysicist
Josef von Hubler
Philosopher
Jean-Michel Francois
Director, National Security Administration
Christian Phillips
Psychological Examiner, Department of Education
Kamal James
Executive Assistant to C.E.O., Solartech Industries, China
Chin Maigun
Government-paid Hacker, West Africa
Nsonowa Chibuzo
Mathematician, N.A.S.A.
Giuilianna Piccolomini
Security Guard, Paris Global Warming Summit
Jean-Claude Gilbouis
Secretary to the Israeli Prime Minister
Eliahu Ben Isaac
Grand Dragon, K.K.K.
Bobby Gene Stetsen
Operative, Russian K.G.B.
Alexsei Kuznetsov
Protest Singer/Songwriter
Molly Agar
Neo-Nazi, South Carolina
Jeffrey Brunholtz
Curator, the Cloisters museum
Dalton Wells
Prima Ballerina, American Ballet Company
Clara Dumont
Dalton Wells! Well, what do you know! But how can he be of any real significance? And right underneath is Clara Dumont, the woman who claims Alison told her she was next. Hey, Austin Boyd’s on the list! What could anyone want from that brainless twit except favors? Some of these others appear to be of no significance at all- a security guard, an executive assistant, and a poet for God’s sake! What the hell does it all mean?
The tiny hairs on the back of Carter’s neck stood up. This was a list of assassinations, and it was no fake.
Assuming Wells was murdered because his name is on this list, all these people are going to be, or already have been, assassinated. But why? Why?! How are we supposed to find out who the assassins are or will be? How can we stop an international conspiracy?
Wait a minute. Calm down. Breathe.
O.K., there’s always the possibility that the Burn List is a prank. It might have been dreamed up by someone who never planned to go through with it or couldn’t, for one reason or another. For all we know, the damn thing could be entirely fictional.
Then why is Dalton Wells and Clara Dumont on the list?
There’s another strange coincidence, too; it was David Florio who found the Burn List while working for Meese. He emailed it to himself and then saved it on his home computer. And now he’s dead. One coincidence too many.
We’ve got to find a way to verify this information, but until we do, we have to warn and protect these people now. I hope to God this is the only list.
What the hell were these people doing - or going to do - that signed their own death warrant?
Chapter Twenty Eight
Working on the Burn List around the clock had given him little to no time to consult with hospitalized Deeprose, workaholic Seacrest, or the enigmatic deputy director. Carter was so bleary-eyed by the time the computer screen blipped on and off that he wasn’t sure what he saw.
The screen blipped again. This time Carter was certain he saw something from the corner of his eye, so he took a break from the list and pressed a key to take the screen off sleep mode. The desktop computer rested on the desk across from the bed.
This many covert eyes and ears can’t be possible. I’m getting as paranoid as I thought my parents were after Watergate! Wait…isn’t the computer an inch or two to the left of where it usually sits? Then again, a cyber thief doesn’t need to come into the bedroom to hack me. I probably moved it myself by accident.
A new email popped up to alert Jill of a new comment on YouTube. Carter hated peeking into his wife’s email but she was still out at the lab, so…he opened it. The email instructed him to view his wedding video for the comment. Instead of the quatrain he quoted at his wedding, this time he saw a phone number along with one short phrase - Limited time offer.
There was no sense in playing a guessing game, so he punched the number into his phone and waited. Glancing at the comment again, he noticed the number and message were already gone.
Nothing like breaking all the rules in one week. Here goes nothing…
“Agent Carter, speaking. Who is this?”
He got no answer; the voice on the other end was a recording that instructed him to come alone to a specific meeting place without any electronics or weapons. If he didn’t obey, the offer was off the table.
What offer?
Carter knew Fischetti would never let him go alone. On the other hand, he knew Jill and Deeprose would’ve taken the opportunity to get some answers. For once, he did the rash thing instead of the right thing. He grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair and ran out the door.
The meeting place turned out to be an abandoned century-old police station directly underneath the Brooklyn Bridge on the Brooklyn side of the river. It was dark and creepy - the perfect place to dump a body. No sane person would come within a mile of this place. Half-walls crumbled under their own weight. The roof was long gone.
Shit! I can’t see a damn thing!
Carter thought he heard the sound of a door being pushed open. “O.K., I’m here. Now you can hold up your end of the bargain.”
A voice from somewhere behind him answered, “You will have all your answers tonight, Agent Carter.”
Whoever he was, Carter knew the echo of his voice must be coming from inside a concrete tower of sorts. “I’m unarmed and prepared to listen to your demands. Who are you? What is it you want in return for stopping the assassinations?”
“Nothing, Agent Carter. They cannot be stopped; I am both heaven and hell.” He took great care to pronounce each of his words slowly and clearly.
The voice sounds like it belongs to an old man. Educated, but arrogant. Is this the same man who posted the YouTube messages?
“Then why am I here?”
“Because you believe that one can’t exist without the other. But it can. It can! You, more than anyone else, should be able to appreciate our great endeavor. We are going to make the world a heaven on earth. But first, the old world must be properly prepared. There are certain changes in the population that must take place. First we’ll destroy those who would destroy this planet and all of us with it. Then we’ll build something that will last forever.”
“You mean you’ll destroy a system that doesn’t work for you. And build something that will serve yourself. I understand why you think that would be heaven on earth, that’s not news for people like you, but don’t try to tell me it would be one for anyone else. Hasn’t history taught you anything? Even Hitler couldn’t sustain his messianic dream, and neither will you. People will fight back like they always do, and you’re the first one they’ll target.”
“Yes, I suppose that would’ve been the case in the past, but that just won’t be possible in the future, Agent Carter.”
“What does that mean? Never mind. Look, I’ve got the Burn List. I know your plan is to assassinate people of critical importance �
�� the decision makers, the movers and shakers, and the ones who have access to top-secret information. From the looks of it, you also plan to exterminate some of the world’s most notorious dictators. On the surface that makes no sense, but you’re a master of the art of misdirection. You plan to stir up trouble so horrendous that the threat of a final war will distract anyone from noticing anything else. That’s the idea, isn’t it?”
“Something like that…”
“But how are you going to stop the trouble you started? You say you want to save the world from itself, but that can’t happen. Even you must know that in whatever it is you have in place of a heart. You may be able to push it towards the end, but not back to a bright new beginning. Once it starts it won’t stop until there’s nothing left, no one left to rule over, and no air to breathe that isn’t poisoned.
“This hallucinogen you’re testing out…even if it can control your assassins, how do you ultimately control them? Or do you eliminate them as well? Do you just keep killing and killing to maintain paradise? Because that’s we’ve been doing since the beginning of time. I thought you said your heaven could exist alone. It would all be very enlightening if it wasn’t the same old song that’s been playing since the first megalomaniac roamed the earth.”
“Agent Carter, their deaths are essential. They’re blocking our path to a future that, quite frankly, they are not even capable of imagining. These assassinations are nothing compared to what’s coming next.”
“But, if you’re so all-powerful, why can’t you achieve this miraculous change without using your Killing Collective?”
The Silver Man remained silent.
“O.K., then tell me this; what is the plan for your ‘Utopian’ future once these people have been killed?”
“I will tell you everything in just a few minutes, Agent, just a few more minutes. First, you need to understand something you refuse to face; the deaths that have already occurred will shape your investigation but not the outcome. The U.S. wants a quick and easy end to these assassinations, Agent, and they will have it even if they must look in the wrong places to do it. If you pursue us, I can safely promise you that no one will believe a word you say - not your superior, your closest friends, the police, media, or the public. No one.”
Carter felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. As he went down, someone caught him, dragged him somewhere and strapped him into a chair. When he came to, he was fighting mad.
“You strapped me into a chair? A chair?! Look, whatever you’re planning to do…it won’t work. I’m trained to withstand anything you can dish out, and I can get out of any trap you can set. A chair with straps will not stop me.”
An assistant in a mask held up a handful of electrodes so that Carter could get a good look at it. The Silver Man continued speaking conversationally from behind him.
“This device has been a long time coming, Agent Carter. We approved many other scientific methods for experimentation in the past, but they all failed miserably. We couldn’t control every outcome, every time. With this, though, we can. It’s destined to become an implantable Nano-chip. You’re going to be our first test subject, Agent Carter.”
The assistant fastened the electrodes to his head without a word. Carter heard a machine begin to hum. Seconds later, a small rubber ball was forced into his mouth. Just in case.
***
Ten Years Earlier…
It was Christmastime, and a man in an obscure unpronounceable country halfway around the world sat in his rocking chair by a small fireplace. He had one last gift to give the world, and it was the only gift the world would ever need. He had the foresight and the ability to reconvene the JASONS for one mission only; the plan was a good one but the timing was wrong. He’d have to wait…
Meanwhile, The JASONS faded gradually into obscurity. By the time they forced Clayton Artemus Montgomery, their last connection to any government entity, out of the game, not even the D.O.D. could find them.
He unwrapped a symbol of the change to come. It represented perfection by intentional design. Inside the small, gaily colored box was a miniature replica of Galatea, the mythic stone sculpture of a woman brought to life by Pygmalion, who fell hopelessly in love with his own creation. She was breathtakingly beautiful, thought the man, as beautiful as his own country had once been.
Inside the statue, instructions for the transformation lay dormant. One day, when the time was right, he would crack it open and launch his plan to remake the world what he imagined it had been at its birth. These instructions would be a thousand times more powerful than any army and any weapon made by man.
He caressed the beautiful statue. “One day, my love, you will lead us back onto the path we were all meant to travel.”
***
Present Day…
“I’m going to give you a demonstration of how a mind, any mind, can be reduced to rubble, or controlled perfectly for the sake of peace and prosperity. We always suspected the drug wouldn’t be enough to do it, but for the sake of argument, we’ll use it on you as well.”
Carter felt the pin prick of a needle in the meaty portion of his right arm before he had a chance knock the chair over and break it. Despite a trick he used to lower his heart rate, he was scared to death. He’d already seen what the drug alone had done to Seacrest.
I know what this is. I can control it.
But he couldn’t. From far, far away, the voice continued speaking in a peaceful, even tone. His words planted visions of seething mobs inside Carter’s head. There were riots, fires, looting.
“You don’t get to decide what a perfect world is for myself or anyone else. You’re crazy! You hear me? CRAZY!”
Carter was unable to see the Silver Man who stood just behind him, but his assistant, in the long robes of a penitent and wearing the ivory mask of a woman, stood before him.
Who’s wearing that mask? A man or a woman?
He dropped off again into the chaos of his own mind. Much later, somewhat revived, he tried to get more answers while figuring a way out of the chair that kept him firmly strapped in place.
“The people on the Burn List are a threat to your new order, so they have to die. I get that. But, what’s the rest of it? What comes next?”
“Patience, Agent Carter. Patience.”
“I already told you I have the Burn List, and it’s hidden somewhere no one will ever find it. We can stop every one of those assassinations, now; there’s no way you can stop the news from coming out, whether you kill me or not.”
“Kill you? No! We’re not going to kill you, Agent Carter. We’re going to make you a subject in our little study, that’s all.”
“You already know how the drug works. What are these electrodes for? What’s this Nano-chip you mentioned? What’s left to study?”
“Agent Carter, your infinite capacity for obtuseness continues to amaze me. Haven’t you figured it out, yet? This is all a study! We instruct our subjects to kill, but we give them rules to follow. We watch them to see if they obey these rules. We study the deviants. Then we tabulate a trend which allows us to predict which personality-types will obey and which ones won’t. That’s all we want to know, Agent.”
“O.K., I’ll bite. Why?”
“Because there is a next step to take in the study before our plan is ready to be introduced into society. By then, no one will even notice the change. It will be absolutely seamless. You know, it isn’t easy being a Pygmalion, Agent Carter, but it’s well worth the time and effort if the statue comes to life!”
The voice chuckled at his own metaphor as he injected Carter with another dose of the hallucinogen. “We have one more aspect of this drug to consider, Agent. We need to know what would happen in the event of an overdose. If you live, you will have become another one of our assassins. If not…well, then, you died for humanity.” The voice drifted off into the distance like the whistle of a train speeding past a train station.
Down went Carter into the rabbit-hole. He squeezed his eye
s shut hoping to fight it, but even with his eyes closed he felt the presence of a woman familiar to him and assumed it must be Jill. The woman wore a white lab coat. But as in most dreams, he was sure but at the same time not quite sure it was really Jill; she was wearing a mask that made her look like…
That’s not Jill. That’s the Silver Man’s assistant masquerading as my wife!
Galatea spoke to him in Jill’s familiar voice. “It’s going to be a new America, a whole new world. You’ll see…” She paused to fold her arms. “We can change, control and track anyone just by implanting a microscopic chip in their brain with one hundred percent accuracy. No drugs! How do you like that for virtual reality? It’s simple really – only one technological step farther than the chips we already use to track our pets.”
Carter tried to answer, but he couldn’t move his mouth.
“Give in, Carter. It’s so much easier. What good is an expanding universes if we can’t grow with it? With this Nano-chip there will be no need for anyone to fear the future. It’s the end of the ungenerous spirit and the closed mind. No hatred, no misers, no greed, no jealousy! Just think of it, Carter…world peace. Finally! It’s the only way it will ever happen, and you know it. Why not just accept it?”
Carter was frantic, but his mouth refused to open.
And the cost? Just a little thing called free will and human rights! All you’re doing is trading out our current dictators and demagogues for a new one. All those Nano-chips will require updating, re-programming, and monitoring. Who’s it going to be? The Silver Man?
She told him the rest of it. “Every newborn baby will be transformed at birth. It will be the new standard in hospital procedure. Parents will be told it’s for tracking and medical monitoring, and there won’t be any way of knowing otherwise. What parent wouldn’t give anything to keep a child safe from getting lost, running away, or being kidnapped and worse? Why would anyone balk at knowing when to go to the doctor or call Emergency Services in plenty of time to treat an illness or prevent a heart attack? Within two generations, those born before the transformation began will simply die out.”
