Killing the Giants

by Jeff Bennington

  With that, Thomas chuckled, and replied, “Jon…I think it’s time we have a little talk.”

  Chapter 7

  Another Long Island, Please!

  Sarah, Max and Tim continued their conversation and their drinking. Tim was on his second tall Coors Light, and Max was hitting his usual Crown and Coke pretty hard. Sarah shouted to the bartender, “I’ll have another Blue Moon!”

  Laughing and enjoying each other’s company, the three had been discussing their backgrounds and work history. It turned out that Max was once a national surfing champion and extreme water-sports personality until he decided to come back to his hometown to take over the family business.

  Slightly buzzed from drinking, Max finished his story. “So anyway, a few years and three kids later, I somehow ended up on the ticket, running for mayor.” He looked into his glass and spun the ice cubes in circles. “Strange how we end up where we are. All I ever wanted was to get away from this town and surf some gnarly swells. Now, I’m right back here running Dad’s old pub and this sad little town, which is exactly what I didn’t want.” Max shrugged his shoulders. “But I grew up, I guess, and now I’m okay with it.” He pointed at Sarah with the same hand that held his drink. “How about you, Sarah? How’d you get here?”

  Sarah answered with a wry grin. “Well, that’s a very long and boring story. I wouldn’t want to bother you with all the details about how I used to manipulate world events and analyze global security for the CIA!”

  Max choked on his drink. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

  Tim chimed in, rubbing his fingers through his military crew cut. “I have to vouch for her on this one; Sarah knows her shit! In fact, the increasingly popular Dr. David Liggin taught her everything she knows.”

  “Is that a fact?” asked Max as he looked at Sarah, squinting with curious eyes. “So how did you, a seemingly intelligent American girl next door, get involved with bombs and global espionage?”

  Sarah chuckled at his American-girl comment. “Well, since I only seem to be intelligent, I do hope that I have enough brain capacity to communicate on your level.” She grabbed her beer and took a big gulp.

  Tim laughed and dinged his glass against Sarah’s and said, “Touché!”

  “Oh, come on! I didn’t mean it like that.” Max extended his hand. “Please, continue.”

  Sarah countered with a grin. “Apology accepted.”

  She adjusted her position in her seat.

  “Okay, you said yourself that I seem intelligent, so let’s go with that. Without sounding conceited, I am pretty smart. I graduated at the top of everything I’ve done: high school valedictorian, college, master’s and doctorate. I got all As, and all honors. Okay? So what? So I’m smart. Well, there are lots of smart kids out there. But things went very differently for me once I entered the doctorate program at MIT.”

  Max shook his head. “I’ve got a feeling this is going to get interesting.”

  Tim smirked. “Oh, just wait!”

  Sarah elbowed Tim and he sprayed beer out of his mouth.

  “Anyway,” said Sarah. “I was always a history buff. That’s what I got my bachelor’s degree in. But then as time went on, and I got some life experiences under my belt, I began to desire a greater understanding of how things worked on a broader scale.”

  Max looked at Sarah curiously. “Things?”

  “Yeah. You know, economies, cultural shifts—that sort of thing.”

  Max rolled his eyes and said, “Sure. I think of that all the time,” then took another sip of his drink.

  “Yeah, well, I got older and matured a little; the world began to look different from what I pictured or understood from my history books. Do you know what I mean?”

  Max nodded in agreement.

  “There were a lot of holes in the big picture that I couldn’t fill with what I was being taught by my professors. They meant well, but they were just passing on the same information that they were taught. But the reason things changed once I entered the doctorate program is because I met Dr. Liggin. The one and only!”

  Max’s brow furrowed. “Who’s Dr. Liggin?”

  “He’s the dean over the School of Economics and Political Science at MIT. Dr. Liggin was my mentor. I was intrigued by his wisdom, and he was likewise interested in my curiosity and discernment into the deeper truths of economics, global power shifts, and how time seems to bring the realities of human nature full circle, one empire at a ti—”

  Max interrupted. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute here. What are you talking about? Global…political…power shifts? What’s this all about?”

  Tim sat still, quietly listening to Sarah’s story.

  Sarah cleared her throat. The smoke was starting to get to her. “Well, in a nutshell, we’re living in a moment in history like any other. There is good. There is evil. There are empires, slaves, kings, queens, saviors, droughts, climate changes, et cetera. Nothing has changed on this planet since the dawn of intelligent life, with the exception of the means and technology used to accomplish the end result.”

  Max leaned closer to Sarah and squinted curiously. “End result?”

  “Yes. The result…the ultimate goal of the Giants, as they are called today, is to maintain power, and control the masses. Throughout time these select few, although they have come and gone, have slowly increased their control over more and more nations—ours included.”

  Tim turned in his chair. “Now wait a minute! I thought these so-called Giants were just part of Dr. Liggin’s conspiracy theory and theoretical ramblings?”

  Sarah turned. “You know, I used to think that too. But I’m convinced that he’s right.”

  Max smiled wryly at Tim.

  “I’m serious!” said Sarah. “Syria, Babylon, Greece and Rome were all thought to be the world, and the rulers of those empires were doing the same things then with the same motivations that a select few are doing today. Only now, things are different. Now the rulers of the world can manipulate world events so much easier than ever. The economies, governments, countries, and continents of this world are so connected by today’s technology that the Giants can do anything they want. They play games and manipulate us. They literally sit high on mountaintops, in hidden castles, in discreet locations all over the world, and pull our strings as they laugh and cry in amusement at the entertainment they supply for themselves.

  “I’m sure you have heard the phrase ‘The world is a stage,’ right?”

  Both men nodded.

  “Believe it or not, I’ve talked to a member of one of the families who sits in one of those castles. He told me that four generations of his ancestors have used that phrase in such a real sense that I could not even fathom the truth of their so-called slogan . He was so flippant with the topic, like it didn’t even make a difference if I knew about his dirty little secret. There was so much arrogance, and such a sense of entitlement in his demeanor, it just about made me sick.”

  Sarah paused to take a drink and reflect on what she would say next.

  Max asked, “So, how are you involved?” His eyes told Sarah that he believed her. “I mean, if this thing, this power and control thing you are talking about is restricted to so few, how did you get in the loop? How do you know what you know about all of this?”

  Sarah swallowed and responded, “Well, when I started my research, Dr. Liggin gave me his full support, and introduced me to people I never would have thought I’d meet. He knew celebrities, politicians, billionaires, and trillionaires. You name it and he had a connection. He helped me with my research in any way he could. He arranged everything from personal interviews of some of the wealthiest of the wealthiest to the geniuses that control the Internet. He also introduced me to world leaders and obscure historians. He did for me what he would never do for anyone else. Then after working with him all those years, he made it clear that he believed in a conspiracy by the ultra-elite, and wanted to prove it through formal research. Honestly, he was more than a mentor, he was like a father t
o me.”

  Tim interrupted, “So what happened? You talk about him as if he’s no longer a part of your life. Did you two have a falling out?”

  “Oh no. It was just life. I was his baby bird. And when it was time for me to spread my wings and fly on my own, I took off soaring as he knew I would, and, well…I just kept going.”

  Sarah paused and looked away. She began to tear up. She bit down on her lower lip, sniffed, cleared her throat, and apologized for being human.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that we were pretty close. We really were. I miss him.” She drifted off for a moment to reminisce.

  Interested in Sarah’s story, Max pressed on. “But the two of you ended up on opposite sides, didn’t you? I mean, you work for The Man, the government, the whole Big Brother thing, right?”

  Sarah laughed. “No! It’s not really like that. He knows me, and he knows what I’m about. In fact, on occasion, we still bounce ideas off each other.”

  Max nodded. “Okay. So, you were saying…”

  “Anyway, my doctoral dissertation was what any graduate student would call a success. I got lots of attention and won some awards. My dissertation was entitled, ‘The Modern Effects of Global Economic and Power Shifts of the Early Twentieth Century.’ As boring as that sounds, I was interested in this because there seemed to be such a gap in world power before World War I. And I mean real power.

  “I wanted to see how today’s global economics and power shifts have been impacted by that time period. I wanted to understand how for the first time the globe, the real world as we know it today, was impacted by the historical desire of emperors and kings to rule it totally and completely. I believe that one hundred years ago, they were just beginning to see the potential for a real one-world empire. So I found, in part, the answers that I was looking for.

  “I found some of the so-called Giants, but not all of them. Some things, some humans—if you want to call them that—are out of reach. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that there are some Giants who are untouchable, almost godlike.”

  “What? No way!” insisted Max. “This almost sounds like an alien or lizard-people theory.”

  “I’m dead serious! Although there aren’t any aliens involved that I know of…there is more. It was amazing how many power brokers, politicians, and billionaires were actually interested in my study. What I discovered—or at least my opinion of what I discovered—was that even the wealthiest gentlemen who sought me out, that is my research, were looking for something, for someone, or some kind of clue. It was as if they believed I had found the answers to what they were looking for as well.” Sarah took another sip, and looked back at Max.

  “I believe, they were searching for the godlike Giants that kept them from attaining absolute power and absolute wealth, because even the wealthiest and most powerful person you can think of is in some way vulnerable to losing all that he has. I believe their fear of that vulnerability and knowledge of the true Giants is what drew them to me. So you see, those who you might think are Giants had a glass ceiling of their own. But the true Giants, they’re still out there manipulating, and pressing down upon all of us.”

  Tim interjected, “So do you think the Giants are involved in this mess?”

  “I don’t know. It’s possible. Right now, it’s anybody’s guess. You can’t imagine how they work, or how they manipulate, unless…”

  “Unless what?” asked Tim.

  Sarah looked directly at Max. “Unless you’ve worked for them.”

  Max gasped. “What do you mean?”

  “If you want the answer to that question, you better order another drink.” Sarah smiled, laughing at his curiosity. “Because I’m about to blow your mind!”

  Chapter 8

  GAP

  “Let me get this straight,” Max interjected. “You’re a brainiac with lots of contacts, billionaire friends, and now you’re chasing explosions? That doesn’t compute. Not in my simple mind anyway. Why aren’t you teaching in an Ivy League school or working some six-figure job?”

  Sarah grinned. “Who said I’m not making six figures?” She spun in her chair and looked out at the other patrons. “Anyway, here’s the story. My career really took off when I finished my doctoral dissertation, and presented it to the NBPS.”

  “Who are they?” asked Max.

  Sarah spun back around.

  “The National Board of Political Scientists. They sponsor an annual forum for the best and the brightest to demonstrate their intellectual wares. In return for our contribution to poly-sci research, the NBPS helps to place students in the most significant positions available for young intellectuals. They do this by inviting the directors of federal agencies, board members of prestigious think tanks, and other powerful leaders to the weekend retreat.

  “That weekend, Dr. Liggin introduced me to three men who were interested in bringing me into their organizations. The first gentleman was Rick Scarborough. At that time he was the lieutenant director of the CIA. He was looking for an assistant with the skills to analyze global political policy for his Special Projects team. That was cool, you know, all the mystery and secrecy of the CIA sort of intrigued me, as you can imagine.”

  Max grinned and shook his head.

  “You look surprised,” said Sarah.

  “Well, I guess I am.” Max scratched his head. “I never would’ve figured you for a—”

  “Intellectual?”

  “No! A woman in black, you know, a secret agent.”

  “Well, that didn’t happen. Not yet anyway. You see, there was also this goofy-looking genius type who sat on the board of a private organization called The Center for Global Economic Policy. They basically crunched numbers for large global corporations, and helped them decide how to best invest their profits or where to expand in the new global marketplace. That sounded like a boring-ass job. Obviously, that didn’t sound nearly as exciting as the CIA.”

  Tim leaned back in his chair and asked, “So what’d you do?”

  “Well, Dave finally introduced me to Christopher Hackins. He ran a privately funded think tank called GAP, or Global Analytical Partnership, located just outside of Washington, DC. These guys sat around all day and watched world events unfold. Basically, they would watch television and analyze the key players: who stood to gain, how the events would likely play out and then offer their opinions to groups and organizations that were willing to purchase their reports. That sounded like fun…to me anyway. I mean, every day would be different because world events changed daily, and I really wanted a position that gave me the opportunity to think and analyze. So between the CIA position and the GAP opportunity, I chose the one that seemed safer.

  “In addition, Rick Scarborough told me if things didn’t work out at GAP, he would hold my position and that I was welcome to join his team anytime. He was very gracious. I really liked him.

  “Consequently, I took the GAP position. The money and perks were out of this world. They bought me a wonderful house, gave me a new Lexus and paid me a ridiculous salary. I mean, I thought I would do well financially one day because of my intelligence, but the kind of money and perks that was thrown around our office was unbelievable. The trips, the company retreats and dinners were extravagant! I felt like royalty at first. But I also felt like an outsider. I was definitely in a man’s world. I could feel the tension among my peers. Fortunately, I was on the golf team during my undergraduate years. Without golfing skills, a woman might as well kiss her chances of mixing with those guys good-bye. But as good as I had it, the job really started to bother me.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Max.

  “Well, I told you that we analyzed world events, right? Well, that was only part of it. As life unfolded around the world, we analyzed things like the political unrest in Uganda, or the potential impact of free elections in Venezuela, or a tsunami on some obscure island in the South Pacific.

  “I enjoyed the opportunity to put my education to use. I really enjoyed doing what
I thought was a small part in helping our government and humanitarian organizations make responsible choices in our ever-growing world stage. Unfortunately, that’s not what we were doing. What I thought was benefiting my fellow man was actually squeezing them, manipulating them and killing them. So I quit.”

  “What? What are you talking about? What happened?” Max curiously interjected.

  Sarah grabbed a handful of pretzels and started nibbling on one. “Here’s how it worked. Basically, we worked seven days a week. Time doesn’t stand still, right? Anyway, we came into the office on varying shifts. We watched the world news on a dozen twenty-four-hour global news stations: CSPAN, CNBC, CBS, CNN, Fox and all those brand-name news centers. We also watched international news and some not-so-known news channels along with our Internet links and intelligence from independent sources. We would basically discuss and debate the potential outcomes of those events, and the many possible scenarios that could arise if other unforeseeable events came into play.”

  Max put his hands behind his head, visibly amazed at Sarah’s story.

  “Then, while we were busy being smart, our conversations were recorded, and the transcripts from those discussions were formatted into a report. After we finished, another team of analysts and some highly paid English major transcribed and published the report with our company letterhead. Not much more than ten minutes after the report was published, we were getting offers for the contents of that report by government contractors, humanitarian organizations and other global corporations. We were making millions every day because our clients knew they were getting the best analysis money could buy. They knew that some of the most intelligent people on the planet were giving them advice on global events that had taken place, or might take place.”

  “So, what’s so bad about that? I mean, how did that manipulate and kill people?” Tim questioned.

  “Well, it’s like this, all the analyzing and roundtable discussions we had were not just handed over and processed with our personal opinion and actual quotations. The transcripts were formatted and rewritten, sort of like plagiarism, so that the final product—that is, the final analysis—could provide our clients with the most profitable solutions.”