by T. K. Harris
His instinct telling him he should hold off before emailing any further sensitive communication, Gillespie said he would send the information via secure courier within the next few days.
"Good. And, Gillespie? When you have this situation under control, I expect to see you in my office immediately."
"Yes, sir. Of course."
Gillespie hung up, perplexed.
"Sir?"
Gillespie looked up to find one of his newest interns waiting anxiously for him to respond.
"What is it?"
"Sir, Channel 9 is back on, reporting more information. They are saying they now have proof that the emails from Agent Barrett are legitimate and that-"
"Turn the damn TV on then!"
"Yes, sir!"
The intern grabbed the remote from the shelf and turned it on.
"…we have reliable sources stating that the emails posted by the hacker groups fighting for the release of the Gillespie Five are, in fact, legitimate. In response to accusations they have released false documents, the hackers have delivered additional evidence that has now been verified by independent resources showing that the emails are authentic."
The reporter looked at the camera with an earnest expression. "If what we are finding out is true, then what we may be looking at is a very real case of agents of the United States government holding innocent American citizens-"
"Turn the damn thing off!"
The intern took one look at Gillespie, did as he was bid, and fled. Gillespie slammed his office door shut behind him. He didn’t need to hear anymore because the thought that had been simmering in the back of his mind before the president called, solidified. Picking up the phone he dialed a number he normally tried to avoid. On the third ring someone answered.
"Thought you'd be calling soon, brother."
Gillespie gritted his teeth. "This is your doing isn't it, Anthony? You and the family's. You set me up."
Anthony chuckled. "I wish it were, brother. I wish it were."
"Do not lie to me! I know this is the family's fault. I know you are setting out to discredit me and you tell the family I will not have it! I am going directly to the press with everything and you can be damn sure your precious family secret will come fully into the daylight. In great detail and with every name I know!"
Gillespie slammed the phone down and began pacing. Unsure how he was going to get out of this mess, wondering if he could get away with murdering that damn Agent Barrett, he continued to pace until he felt himself calming down. Then he began to make more calls. Soon, the full story would be out. If he was going down, he was taking the family with him.
Chapter Sixty-Three
The video of Wayne being shot hit the internet at 11:00PM EST. Within an hour it had gone viral, circling the world and netting a flurry of outrage in response. Gillespie was planning his statement to the press about the emails when he received another call from the president.
It was from him that Gillespie first heard about the video. The words 'investigation' and 'federal charges' were mentioned, shouted at ear-splitting volume, and peppered with several colorful words.
When the president finished, Gillespie, who had been pacing, hung up and walked to his desk, collapsing into his chair. Though he knew he would have to drop out of the elections, he still had hoped that he could return again in eight years. But after what the president had to stay, not only was that hope dashed but so much more with it. For the first time in his life, Gillespie did not know what he was supposed to do. He could not imagine life without politics or a chance at the presidency.
Despair and then anger shot through him. The family was definitely going to pay for this. And so were the rest of them.
Chapter Sixty-Four
The call took longer to come in than he expected. Yuri schooled his voice as he answered.
"Hello."
"Have you seen this video? And just after the emails? Have you seen what they are saying on the news?"
Yuri winced at his caller's volume. "You were supposed to discredit him, not ruin us! How could-"
"I tried to tell you before that he was out of control," Yuri interjected. "We tried to rein him in. How could we have known the full extent of what he and Barrett had done?"
"Because we paid you to, that's how!"
Yuri's teeth ground painfully as he tried to reign in what he really wanted to say. "With all due respect, your family called mine to help and we responded. We performed our duty to you, the controlling family, as expected. We warned you that he wanted this too bad."
"It doesn't matter now. By this time tomorrow, Gillespie will have gone to the press about everything we have strived for."
"He would go to the press. But who would believe him?"
"You know as well as I that something like this coming from him, even now, will be listened to. Even if his political career is in shreds. You need to fix this and now!"
Yuri smiled. This was becoming easier than he thought it would be.
Careful to sound hesitant, he took a breath and said quietly, "We may be able to fix this but…"
"But what?"
Yuri began to outline a plan he'd had since the beginning, as if he were just thinking of it. His caller listened and after a moment's silence asked, "And Barrett?"
"We'll take care of him later. It's not an ideal plan but it will still put your candidate in place, poised to run in the next election and should save your family face. Sympathy can go a long way towards achieving that. Especially if your family is prepared to take care of those innocents."
The silence stretched for some time before the answer came. "Do it. Gillespie is no good to us anymore. He’s become a liability. And the family must maintain its leadership at all costs."
"Of course. Then we will make it happen. And congratulations on forwarding our cause."
His caller hung up without another word.
Yuri placed another quick call to make arrangements for what they had just discussed. His plans were going better than even he expected.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Gillespie sat at the desk in his inner office, preparing for the press conference. Outside his office door, the activity raged like an angry bee hive. He knew his family had never approved of him breaking away from what they felt was their duty and right. But to ruin him? That, he had never expected.
He felt heavy as he sat at his desk, realizing his dreams were gone. His whole life's work, destroyed. And by his own family. But he was no coward. The family was not going to take him down without a fight. Resolutely, he turned back to his work, nearly oblivious to the soft knock at the door.
"Come in."
One of the new interns entered hesitantly. He stared at the young man trying to recall his name.
"Yes, you are?"
"Gary, sir."
"Ah, yes. What can I do for you?"
"Maria said you wanted a cup of coffee? I brought you this."
Walking in, he showed Gillespie the tray he carried.
"Ah. Thank you. I am definitely in need of the coffee. Please, set it on my desk."
Gary carefully set it down and then poured the coffee. Black, the way Gillespie preferred. "Thank you," he said, as he accepted the coffee and gulped half of it down.
"Will there be anything else, sir?"
"No. No. How long have I got until the conference?"
The intern looked at his watch. "About an hour, sir."
"Good. I…"
Gillespie felt a wave of dizziness and reached for the desk.
"Sir? Are you okay?"
Steadying himself, Gillespie tried to reply but could not. The intern rushed to the door, but instead of going out into the office, he slowly closed and locked it.
Gillespie watched as he calmly returned and took the tray containing the coffee cup and pot to the office's small sink. As he began to wash them, he looked over his shoulder at the senator.
"I'm sorry, sir. But your family prefers it this way."
> Gillespie doubled over as spasms racked his body.
"Why," he tried to ask, as black spots began to dance before his eyes and he felt his throat constricting.
"Because you’ve become a liability, I’m afraid. To them, and the rest of the families."
As the darkness closed in, his last thoughts wished his family to hell.
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The intern waited until Gillespie had breathed his last, drying the dishes to remove all traces of the poison that was even now disappearing from the senator's system. Then, walking over to the senator's desk, he rolled the chair with Gillespie's body out of the way, taking a flash drive from his pocket and placing it in the senator's desktop. Quickly, he copied a file to the computer's desktop and ran a short program to completely wipe out the data on his drive, before sticking it back in his pocket.
He squirmed a bit before taking his last step. He really hated blood. But the money would more than make up for it.
Checking his watch, he pulled from his pocke, the latex gloves he had brought with him and put them on before propping the senator back up in the chair. Then, reaching under the desk, he pulled out a silencer and the .22 pistol that had been removed from the senator's home earlier. Attaching the silencer to the .22, he placed it in the senator's mouth. Then, wrapping the senator's hand around the trigger, he stood as far to the side as he could and pulled the trigger. He grimaced as brains and blood splattered against the back wall. His black shirt and pants hiding the blood spatter he couldn’t avoid.
He took the gun from Gillespie's mouth, removing the silencer and sticking it into the gloves, which he shoved back into his pocket. He then stuck the gun back in the senator's hand and arranged the body the way he had been instructed. Within minutes he stepped out of the senator's inner office, unnoticed by the people scurrying around, and returned to answering the phones. He waited, watching until he saw the secretary entering with everyone's coffee order. As she began handing the coffee orders out, he heard her complaining about how she had been held up at the coffee shop because of someone training a newbie. He hid his smile as he quietly stepped out and moved unhurriedly down the hall and toward the elevators. The elevator doors were just closing when he heard the scream.
Chapter Sixty-Six
(Two weeks after Gillespie's suicide)
Charles Gillespie stacked his notes nervously on his lap. The last several days had been an unexpected whirlwind in which his family had been tossed around as if they were no more than leaves. But today, that would all change.
As he waited for the introduction, he thought back on the previous week's meetings with the family. Everything he had dared hope for and thought would never be possible, was now happening. Finally, with his cousin's death he was out from underneath the great Mitchell Gillespie's shadow.
He could hardly believe that the man designated as the heir apparent to the presidency, as if it were a birth right, had crumbled like a weakling under the mess he had created, and then killed himself. After years of being fed spoonful after spoonful of his cousin's praises, Charles had struggled to believe that Gillespie had actually taken his own life. That was until he read what his cousin had written before his death. Now he had no doubt that Gillespie had done it. Gillespie proved in his note that he was a man hungry for power, caught up in the grief of having lost his wife and willing to do whatever it took to become the next president. Exactly what he had been groomed for his entire life. In retrospect, Charles could almost feel some sympathy for his cousin. Almost.
But he could feel a certain amount of poetic justice. With his passing, Gillespie had left Charles a clear path to the presidency, the last person Gillespie would have seen in office. The golden boy was gone, nothing but a coward in the end. Their grandfather would have spit on his grave had he still been alive.
Charles realized he was almost smiling and quickly turned it into, what he hoped looked like, grief as he stepped up to the podium.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the press, thank you for attending today."
He looked up, radiating sincerity and grief before looking down at his notes. He shuffled them a few times before finally setting them down. Looking at his audience, with practiced candor, he began without the notes.
"Senator Gillespie, my-my cousin, killed himself two weeks ago and, Friday, we buried him."
He swallowed a lump in his throat that did not exist and reached for the glass of water on his podium. After taking a few sips he apologized and continued, just as he had rehearsed for the last several days.
"As you are all aware by now from the letters, emails and other coverage, my cousin – with the help of others – committed a heinous act against five innocent American citizens. The depth of what he has done is still now being revealed."
He took another breath, surveying his audience before continuing. He couldn't tell yet if he had them.
"We had warning signs after his wife's death. But truly no idea of the depth of his grief, or his obsessive desire to win the presidency. That is, not until we read his suicide note."
The press began to murmur, whispers speeding through the group like an oncoming wave. There had been rumors about a suicide note but they had not been confirmed until now.
"We will, of course, be releasing it to the public once the authorities have completed their investigation. Though it pains me to do so, we feel that it is important to us and to the families affected that they know. "
"My family sends its sincerest apologies to the five innocents and we will personally see that they have whatever aid we can provide as they move past this terrible moment in their lives. We mourn with you, not knowing how a great and well-loved man who once served his country bravely, could have fallen so far. They tell me there are times when we need to stop and listen to those around us more, especially when they have suffered."
He swallowed hard, looking down as he continued, "I wish our family had done that for Mitchell. Maybe we could have saved him."
The press waited politely as he composed himself. When he looked up, seeing both compassion and curiosity, he knew he had them. He almost smiled.
"What he was trying to do was the right thing. But in the wrong way. And while we still believe that hackers pose a real and present danger to this and other nations, we need to remember that this is still America and we have our rights. People matter, and those that pursue justice against the people who would steal our identities, sell our country's secrets and worse, must remember those rights. This should not become a witch hunt or be used as a step to push someone into power."
The echo of his fist pounding the podium faded into the audience.
Taking a moment to look as many people in the eye as he could, he finished quietly with, "I only hope that what my cousin did do right in his life, all of the good acts, will live on, and not just the memory of his final days. Thank you."
Quickly, he stepped off the stage, ignoring the questions thundering after him. When he saw his father's face, he knew he had accomplished exactly what they had planned and painted a picture of a grieving man who had lost his way. When the suicide note was released, it would only further serve to show how Barrett and others had used the weakness they’d found in Gillespie to push him into this scheme. Thus exonerating the family. In a few weeks the public would be feeling sympathy for the family so grievously betrayed. In months, the public would have forgotten all but those names the family wanted them to remember.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
(Six months later)
Alex sat in front of triple monitors at his home desk, the news playing on the television in the background. Though it seemed like a lifetime had passed since their release, he was still dealing with the paper work. It seemed the questions never ended. Or changed. He wondered if the pencil pushers sending the paper work thought that he, or anyone else in the group, would change their story if they just kept asking. He gazed at the words in front of him, not seeing them.
Tommy still hadn't decided on when he would return to school but the question of whether he would go back, had been answered at least. He had decided just two weeks before that he not only wanted to go back but he wanted to figure out a way to help make sure that what had happened to him wouldn't happen to anyone else. That he had such an ambition was at least something to give them hope.
"…reports say Barrett's suffered a severe heart attack while under federal detention..."
Alex turned his attention to the TV, turning up the volume.
"Barrett was a key player in the high profile scandal surrounding the Gillespie Five just a few months ago. Taking advantage of what we now know was a serious mental issue with Gillespie, Barrett and several key FBI agents initiated the kidnapping and torture of innocent American citizens in an attempt to stop hacking. Now that Barrett is gone, investigators are unsure if they will ever recover all the details behind the scandal that rocked the nation just a few months ago. Despite the sheer breech of American rights, the scandal did bring to light the seriousness of what hackers could do and an awareness that new laws and security measures-"
Alex he turned the TV off. He was still dealing with all the new measures put in place during the hack attacks a few months ago, and was not happy with the pattern he was seeing in the restriction of access. He was also unhappy that the man whose actions had caused so much harm to his nephew had escaped so easily. And with so many unanswered questions.
