This scene, in differing degrees, was replayed all across the country as agents attempting to reach their contacts in Atlanta triggered Data-Net alarms in the airports. Eventually a few did get through to the Justice Department Enforcement Agency in Atlanta by using their own ID, rather than the special card issued by the Justice Department.
In Atlanta, Cal Rutland was just landing aboard the Defense Department’s small jet plane at Dobbins Air Force Base. The pilot taxied the plane around to the private runway and braked to a stop. As Rutland exited the plane, he saw an ashen Paul Crimmins, head of the Justice Department Enforcement Agency in Atlanta, approaching. From the look on the man’s face, he knew something was wrong.
“What is it?” Rutland asked, his eyes narrowing.
“None of the agents made it to Atlanta, sir,” the shaken agent said hesitantly. He had heard rumors of Rutland’s power and his ruthlessness, and he had no desire to find out if all the rumors were true.
“What do you mean, no agents have made it? Why?” Rutland roared in total fury.
“We’re not sure, sir,” Crimmins replied cautiously. “Somehow there has been a foul-up in the Data-Net system, and no flights can be booked into Atlanta. A few hours ago the Atlanta airport was shut down indefinitely because of a total computer failure. We don’t know when the system will be operational again.”
“Wells!”Rutland spat out.“He’s using the system against us. Get your men to rent cars and drive to Atlanta,” he commanded the trembling agent. “Do it now; they know we are after them!”
Crimmins paused a few seconds, trying to find a way to tell Rutland the rest. “We have another problem, sir.”
“What?”Rutland asked as he squared off in front of the agent. He was so furious Crimmins thought he was going to strike him.
“The agents who tried to use their Justice Department billing codes have been arrested. Somehow the system identified them as terrorists. We’re having very little success in getting them released so far.”
“Wells!” Rutland swore as they headed into the hangar. He knew the group they sought would be long gone by the time they could clear up the mess with Data-Net. The whole exercise was a washout. Razzak would be furious.
“Have them refuel the plane!” Rutland ordered the agent. “I’ll be returning to Washington immediately.”
“What about our agents, sir?”
“I’ll have the system straightened out in a couple of days,” Rutland snarled. “Have them resume their duties where they are.”
Within three days, the entire team from Atlanta began reassembling in Dentville, Mississippi, on a farm owned by a family member of one of the team. The security team had been briefed and all the necessary auxiliary power was in place.
“How did it go?” Shepperd asked as the semitruck rolled to a stop in front of the enormous old cotton barn.
“We had a few anxious moments along the way at some roadblocks,” Elder said, “but your documents were perfect. Where are Jeff and the others?”
“They’re already inside setting up. We tweaked the dragon’s nose a little the last few days. Now we need to get down to some serious planning.”
As the group assembled, there was a definite air of optimism. For months they had seen the enemy as infallible, but now they realized the Society could be bested. And without violence. Shepperd had struggled with that issue for weeks; then John Elder had laid it to rest once and for all.
“The Lord said, ‘Pray for your enemies, and do good to them. For in doing so you will heap burning coals on their heads.’ That must be our position,” Elder told Shepperd after a heated debate over using guerrilla tactics.“Neither I nor any member of the CRC will be a party to murder, no matter what the justification,” Elder said. “This battle is not just against human greed. It is a struggle against powers and principalities. Literally, it is the timeless struggle by Satan and his forces against God and His forces. We will not win by armed conflict; not this battle.”
“Do you have any objection to using confusion and frustration to keep them off guard then, Pastor?” Shepperd asked.
“None at all,” Elder responded cheerfully. “We’ll turn their neat little world upside-down.”
Plans were made for Elder to meet with key CRC leaders around the country and prepare for the underground newspaper to begin publication. It was agreed that the paper, to be called Truth, would be published weekly in at least six areas. Facts about the Society would be presented that could easily be verified by most Americans. Initially no mention of the plot against the Christians and Jews would be broached.
“If we can undermine the credibility of the leadership and pierce the veil of secrecy, the organization will fall,” Elder said time and time again.
“The most important weapon we have is prayer,” Elder told his second group of leaders.“You must organize your people into prayer groups that will maintain a twenty-four-hour-a-day vigil. We would like to think that our plans and ideas will win this battle; they will not! Until God’s people pray without ceasing, the enemy will have the upper hand.”
Throughout America the Christians, the Jews, and those aiding them began to organize into help and prayer groups. Within three weeks, nearly one hundred thousand Christians were on their knees in prayer at all times of the day, every day. Elder could feel the power of God’s people growing stronger every day. So could Razzak.
“It is happening!” Razzak screamed at Rutland. “He is organizing them against us even now!”
“Wells?”Rutland asked, confused. Since the fiasco in Atlanta, Rutland realized he must be careful about using Data-Net. It was as if Wells could read his mail.
When he first realized that Wells had access to the White House computers, he had almost panicked. Hunt’s letter! He had searched his personal files to see if any trace of his treachery remained. As soon as he confirmed that he had wiped out all traces of the transfers, he felt relief, but then he went a step further. He wiped out all records and memos sent to any member of the Society. He was certain there was no traceable link back to him.
“No, not Wells, you fool!” Razzak said angrily. He had become increasingly abusive since the Atlanta fiasco; he even began to doubt Rutland’s loyalty.
“Elder is organizing the Christians against us. If we don’t stop them, they will undermine all our plans,” he railed. Razzak could feel his inner strength waning. Instead of drawing from the power inside, he was sensing pangs of fear—no, terror. The very emotions he had used to control those around him were now beginning to control him.
“But the Christians are still in hiding,”Rutland explained calmly. “The police have orders to arrest them on sight, and our searches ferret out several hundred a day. We have nearly two million in the camps now.”
“Fool!” Razzak screamed. “They are giving themselves up so they can organize the camps!”
Razzak was right. One of Elder’s plans called for many of the lower-echelon leaders to allow themselves to be caught and sent to the camps, where they organized the people into help and prayer groups. Only the women and children were spared the rigors of internment. Tens of thousands of Christians volunteered to be arrested even though the brutality continued in camps run by men like Tooms. Christians were beaten and abused by guards; many gave up their lives; but still the volunteers came.
The networks were forbidden to publish any of the most recent Insta-pol surveys. Support for the administration had dropped to less than 20 percent. Support for Data-Net had dropped to nearly zero. Most Americans never knew from day to day if they could buy what they needed or not. Those who had their properties attached by the government for account delinquencies, or their wages garnished, were fit to be tied. The merchants who used Data-Net sometimes feared for their lives when the system rejected a customer, which it often did.
Wells continued the harassment by disrupting the system periodically. For periods of up to four hours during peak usage the system would shut down totally. At other times t
he system alarms would go off for no apparent reason. Frequently the computers would signal the printers to spool paper, leaving a tangled mess at every Data-Net station.
The administration could not blame the errors on their source— Wells—for fear of undermining confidence in the integrity of the system itself. Now Wells and Shepperd were toying with a new idea: use Data-Net to strip the government of its operating capital. The cash flow from Data-Net’s fees and government drug sales were rapidly making it possible for the government to resume normal operations, including more handouts to the public.
“If the average American begins getting his daily fix of government money, he will be back in Razzak’s camp,” Shepperd said.
Donald Shepperd had found a new purpose in life. When he had first discovered the plot against Christians, he had gotten involved out of a strong sense of justice. But now that he had lived and eaten with them for several months he had new feelings: He really loved them. It was the first time he could remember having any strong ties since his wife had died, nearly twelve years before.
Shepperd observed John Elder closely and found him to be a man of unquestionable integrity, but he had something that went beyond just integrity: He had peace in the midst of chaos. Shepperd had commented to Elder several times that he wished he had that kind of assurance, but he couldn’t piece it together in his mind. Elder had told him it was God calling him, but he couldn’t accept that either. He had done too many wrong things in his life to believe that God, if there really was a God, would want him on His team. No, God is just a fuzzy warm feeling that happens when you’re around good people like these, he told himself. One of the things he particularly liked about John Elder was that he didn’t push his religion on anyone. He would defend his convictions without compromise, and he and Shepperd had some heated debates over basic issues like abortion and crack babies. Once the debates were over, though, Elder always treated him as a trusted friend and ally. More and more Shepperd found himself agreeing, rather than disagreeing, with Elder.
“Jeff, I need you to schedule more food and supplies for the camps,” Shepperd said, the next afternoon. “Let’s spend some of the government surplus on our people.” It is unbelievable what Wells can do with a computer, Shepperd marveled to himself. He could reroute trains, transfer supplies, even shift credits at will. That must be driving the powers of Washington nuts, he mused. They can’t keep him out, and they can’t shut the system down.
“Already done,” Jeff said cheerfully as he put the final touches on a new set of instructions. “I also cut orders to assign some of the pastor’s people to guard duty at the camps.”
“How in the world did you do that?” Shepperd asked in amazement again.
“Oh, it was sim . . .” Jeff stopped, thinking of Karen’s comment. Then he added, “I found the file where the guards are assigned and rotated. So I substituted the numbers of some of the pastor’s people for other guards. Then I transferred the old guards to some remote cities. I couldn’t do too many without arousing suspicion, but I could get twenty in this rotation. I’ll do a few each time.”
“What if they get caught?” Shepperd asked. He knew what their fate would be: execution.
“It’s almost impossible,” Jeff answered. “The assignments are made by random selection from the pool of camp guards. Then they are kept away from any population centers to ensure they don’t divulge what they’re doing. No one person knows who they are. Not since Lively died.
“I have also begun the transfer of assets from the government’s accounts,” Wells said enthusiastically. “It won’t be but a few weeks at most and the administration is going to start bouncing some checks.”
“What did you do with the credits?” Shepperd asked as he slapped Wells on the shoulder affectionately.
“Oh, I put a ‘little here’ and a ‘little there’,” Jeff quipped. Then he looked over at Karen, who raised an eyebrow slightly.
“He sent $100 billion to Israel,” she said. “They need it to rebuild.”
“And I transferred $400 billion to California to use in caring for the people displaced by the quake.”
“I plan to send $100 billion or so to the Coast Guard to use in shutting down the drug traffic, if we can get the new drug bill killed,” Jeff said.
“That will be a while yet,” Elder commented as he entered the room.
“John, you’re back,” Shepperd said cheerfully to the man who had become a very good friend.
“Yes, I met with the CRC leaders in Georgia, Alabama, and Tennessee. We’ve just released our first edition of the Truth. Jeff, your program worked perfectly. The transmission through Westar Six fed the data to our printing facilities in six areas simultaneously.”
“You used a satellite to transmit an underground newspaper?” Shepperd asked incredulously.
“Yea, it was a lot easier than carrying them across the country. Now we can call it the ‘overhead’ newspaper, I guess,” Jeff quipped.
The whole group groaned at his bad pun.
“What if it’s traced?” Shepperd, the eternal pessimist, asked.
“Jeff used one of the military channels on the Westar satellite and put it through a scrambler,” Elder said.
“A scrambler! Where did our groups get scramblers?”
“Procured them though the Government Accounting Office,” Wells said, grinning.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Shepperd said with a fake groan. “Are you sure you weren’t a crook before we met?”
In Washington, Wells’ access to Data-Net was causing chaos at every level. Rutland knew they needed some successes or more of the bureaucrats would change sides. He decided that in spite of the risks they would have to move on the military. With the might of the military under their control, the fence riders would fall in line quickly.
Several weeks earlier when General Gorman had met with his most trusted peers, they had scheduled another meeting, at which time the other general officers were to bring a list of the staff they knew to be loyal.
Armed with this information, Rutland had alerted Marla West to ready her agents. “This is our opportunity to purge the military. That list is invaluable. Have the room monitored, and prepare our senior military people to take command. We will make Gorman and his conspirators appear to be traitors attempting a coup of the government.”
The secretary listening to the device hidden in Rutland’s office immediately notified her contact, who quickly passed the word to the next contact, and ultimately to Shepperd. When Shepperd heard the details, he knew it would be their best chance to make contact with the loyal element of the military. He had to risk it.
Wells tapped into the Pentagon’s phone trunk. He placed a call to General Gorman’s private hot line.
General Gorman was startled when the phone rang. His hot line was reserved for “situations” only. “Yes!” the general said sharply into the mouthpiece, assuming it would only be a junior officer. “What is the problem?”
“General Gorman, this is a friend. Go to scrambler two, please.”
“Who is this?” Gorman shouted. But Shepperd had already switched on the scrambler Jeff had appropriated earlier. He didn’t want to take a chance that Gorman’s phone was bugged. Even though he knew the room was “swept clean” every day, passive “bugs” could go undetected, as their own surveillance proved.
Gorman switched his scrambler to code two. No one but the other joint chiefs had that particular code, but he knew it wasn’t one of them. “This is General Gorman. Who am I speaking with?” he asked coarsely in his best commander’s voice.
“You don’t know me, General, but I know of you. My name is Donald Shepperd. I am an FBI agent, or rather I was until the takeover of our government by Razzak and his Society.”
“Razzak? Amir Razzak, the president’s emissary to the Middle East?” Gorman asked. Suddenly it clicked in his mind. Of course, that explained the use of nuclear weapons against Israel without Admiral Benton’s knowledge.
/> “The very same,” Shepperd said.“He knows about your recent meeting with members of the general staff. You and the others are in great danger.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gorman snapped, suddenly very wary.
“You had a spy in your group, General. I wish I could tell you more, but we don’t know who it is at this time. General,we’re the ones who sent your aide the information on the camps. Most of it came from the Mossad. A few of their people are working with us.”
“I understand,” the general said as he relaxed. “Thank you, Mr. Shepperd. I’ll handle it from this point.”
“General, is there anything you can do?”
“I’ll have to deal with first things first,”Gorman said. “First we’ll deal with the infiltrators. How can I get in contact with you?”
“You can’t, General. But just leave a note in your Pentagon message box addressed to me. We read your computer mail regularly.”
“But how can you . . .”Gorman started to ask, but the line had gone dead.
General Gorman called in his aide, Major Brian Philmore. “I want you to hand-carry some messages,” he told Philmore, the son of a longtime colleague from the academy.
The message read: “Most urgent we meet immediately. Same place, Wednesday, 0700.”
“Be sure you hand-carry this to General Abbott. No one else is to see it.”
“Yes, sir,” the youthful-looking major said. “I’ll do it.”
That next Wednesday morning the conspirators met to discuss the information that Shepperd had provided.
General Gorman began, “Gentlemen, I don’t have to tell you that our nation faces a grave danger from within our government. This Society is a cancer that has taken root in the very heart of the present administration. It has been nearly a year since the Congress was last convened, and there appears to be no move to reestablish a constitutional republic. I believe we have no alternative but to use our combined military power to force the Alton administration to reconvene the Congress and expose this plot to destroy democracy. Do you have your lists of field-grade officers that we know to be loyal to our cause?”
The Illuminati Page 35
