Authors: Barry Davis
"
In short, Wiley must be stopped. He is a domestic terrorist of the first order and, as such, should be killed. The secret presidential Executive Order attached to this memo authorizes Wiley's destruction by dismemberment. It also authorizes a literal dismantling of all the zombies calling themselves Wiley's Warriors. I strongly recommend that you sign this document forthwith so that the work may commence.
"
The NSA
Director
's signature was on the bottom of the document.
Obama retrieved a manila envelope from the Resolute desk. His noted WILEY on the envelope with a Sharpie and stuffed the memo and Executive Order inside. He had not signed the Executive Order.
He opened the bottom right hand drawer of the desk and found the President's Book of Secrets. It was less a book and more a file folder. The folder was thick with over two hundred years of the nation's secrets, beginning with George Washington's death during his second term and
his
subsequent impersonation by a
mulatto
blacksmith from
Norfolk
. Obama placed the envelope in the folder between the story of how Kennedy was murdered by his father due to his desire to divorce Jackie and marry Marilyn and the transcript of the conversations between the USAF and the
sixty foot tall
aliens who landed near
Roswell
.
He closed the folder and laid it back in its place.
He stood and made his way to the president's living quarters. Following dinner with his family he
entered the bedroom of his youngest daughter. In one corner of the room was an ancient telephone, installed in the White House for
Garfield
in 1881. Given its historical value none of the White House remodels have touched the object. Obama's daughter often picks up the receiver and pretends to call characters from the "Box Car Kids
"
novels she enjoys so much. No one answers her because the telephone has not worked since the early 1930's.
That was what Mrs. Obama and the children were told.
The current master of the White House,
Barack Hussein
Obama, knew differently. He shut the bedroom door.
He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket
and
pulled a business card from the wallet. It was black with gold writing; there was only a
twelve digit
number shown on the card.
He held the receiver to his ear and placed his mouth close to the mouthpiece.
He cranked the phone and
spoke
the number.
Someone answered immediately. Obama did not know the identity of the person who answered, he just knew that the person would do as
ordered
, no questions asked.
The number and procedure had been created by his predecessor
's vice president
, another tool in the war against terror.
This was a call using ancient technology that none of the president's own snoops could tap or monitor. It went through no switches – this was a direct line the length of which the president could not discern. The men at the other end could be in the basement or
Topeka
.
The world's greatest spy supercomputers were being defeated
by
the equivalent of a length of string and two paper cups. The conversation was completely secure.
"How may I help you sir?"
"The NSA
Director
had a top secret memo delivered this afternoon."
"Yes, sir."
"I need anyone who possibly had eyes on that memo eliminated."
"Yes, sir.
The NSA
Director
also?
"
"
Yes. Him especially.
Use any means necessary to determine who was involved and dispose of them."
"Yes, sir. We'll torture the
m all
. Contrary to public statements, that works best."
"Okay, whatever. You'll need to find the messenger, too."
"Yes, sir. We'll
shoot
the messenger. Anything else?"
"They have a video of a demonstration involving Secretary Wiley. Find it and destroy it. You'll need to identify if they made copies. I want anything and anyone investigating Secretary Wiley eliminated.
Dig deep on this with the other departments.
"
"Yes, sir. Anything else?"
"No. You have a good evening." Obama
placed the receiver on its cradle
.
He then
joined the rest of
his
family as they watched an episode of
'
Dancing
with the
Stars
'
.
TWENTY
COL
U
MBIA
UNIVERSITY CAMPUS –
NEW YORK
– DECEMBER 2011
The operating theatre at
Col
u
mbia
Medical
School
spread before
Mira
Hidar
. There were two operating tables set up, each fully staffed with surgeon, anesthesiologist and nurses. They were
scrubbed and masked and
awaiting the bodies of
Mira
and her grandfather
Hamid
. Two men sat
in front of
them, each with a metallic blue handgun pointed at their hearts.
Mira
forced her mind away from the guns to focus on Wiley's words.
"This is a loyalty test," he said and
Mira
's mind drifted again.
Hamid
's decision to reanimate Congressman Ben Wiley had been about commerce – a quick ten grand. His decision to create Ben Wiley as something more than a mindless zombie – a living undead
–
was done out of the hope that any evil done would be to
Hamid
's and the world's enemies. The idea of Wiley becoming president was ludicrous.
Maybe as a powerful congressman he
could be a voice for the
Palestinians
.
But something went wrong – this Ben Wiley was smarter, more ambitious, and more dangerous than
Hamid
anticipated. So he and
Mira
began to play along, helping him construct his zombie bombs while at the same time raising the alarm bells in the government to Wiley's true intentions.
Why hadn't anyone listened? Where was the
cavalry
?
She had been directed to meet Wiley at this place for "consultations". It was the first time in weeks that Wiley had requested her input. His plans seemed to be moving on without her. She heard rumors of his bringing in other purveyors of magic – from
Cuba
,
Haiti
,
New Orleans
, even
Africa
. Until the phone call, she had been placed on the outside looking in and she wanted in desperately so she could report to her father
, and he to his
government contacts regarding Wiley's plans.
Ben Wiley stood. He gestured with his hands and a group of women stepped into the theatre and descended the steps.
The women stood on the steps.
"Once you helped me regain sentience, I realized my vulnerability. My new life depended upon the continuation of
Hamid
's life. If he dies, I no longer exist. He
,
in essence, controlled my existence. If he decided to commit suicide or even if he was hit by a bus, I would be no more. My work – all that I plan to do – would disappear like an iceberg drifting near the equator."
He waved his hands toward the women standing on the steps.
"
I've scoured the world for people who could help resolve this dilemma. Before you are some of the world's most talented purveyors of the so called
'
black arts
'
. Although they have helped my organizations in numerous ways
, they have not been able to un-tether my existence from
Hamid
's."
Hamid
opened his mouth and Wiley raised a hand to silence him. The man – and
Mira
determined quickly that the two who sat in front of her and her grandfather were human, not zombie – jabbed the blue gun into
Hamid
's scrawny chest.
"There is another issue that has recently come to light. I have spies in my organization. Someone has been reaching out to the federal government with intimate details of my activities. I suspect the involvement of one or both of you
since
one piece of evidence was a video of the demonstration of the zombie bombs in
Philadelphia
."
"It was me, I did that,"
Hamid
said.
Mira
looked at her grandfather, tears suddenly in her eyes. She opened her mouth but her grandfather
subtlety
shook his head.
"Very good,
Hamid
. I am happy we've found our rat." He nodded his head at the man who held the weapon in front of
Hamid
. The man pulled the trigger and the blast echoed about the space.
Mira
entered a mental fog as her grandfather splayed back in the chair, an ugly hole in his chest, blood spreading on his clothing.
She watched as several men carried
Hamid
down the stairs and placed his body on the operating table. The nurses quickly cut away his clothing and the surgeon began working on the body. Deep inside,
Mira
hoped for her grandfather's death. It was the only way to stop Wiley now.
Wiley spoke again as the surgeon worked to save
Hamid
's – and his – life.
"Am I to understand that you knew nothing of this subterfuge?"
Mira
looked at Wiley, the hate burning in her eyes. "I did not know anything about him and the government. All I wanted was to help you accomplish your goals."
Wiley looked at his troupe of magicians.
They were a Rainbow Coalition of magic, various colors, and various states of life.
One by one, the women nodded.
"They are not sensing any deceit, Ms.
Hidar
. Good for you."
"You've shot my grandfather," she said. "What do you plan to do with him?"
"He'll be kept alive but in a coma.
Right now they are depriving his brain of oxygen.
"
"This doesn't make me happy," she said.
"I know but what I really need to understand is, will you be useful to me? I still need you. We have continents to conquer and the zombie bombs will take forever. I need you to develop a weapon to indoctrinate millions at a time."
She waved at the women standing on the stairs. "Why not kill me and use them?"
"As I've said, I've searched the world for magicians.
As distasteful as the words are
, they will admit that you and your grandfather are the most powerful magicians in the world."
He looked down at the operating table, then back to
Mira
. "Now, you
alone
are the most powerful. I need you."
"I'll help you," she said.
"Excellent," he said. "I just need one more test of loyalty." He gestured and down the steps was brought
Mira
's younger brother
Biran
.
Mira stood, as did Wiley. Wiley's people positioned the young man at the bottom of the steps.
One
Hidar
per generation was invested with the family's magic gift.
Mira
, not her brother or other siblings, had the gift.
Wiley produced a zombie bomb and handed it to
Mira
. "Make him one of my people," he said.
Mira
took the bomb in both her hands. She looked at her brother, then back at Wiley. She struggled to balance the fate of the world versus her brother's life.
She
lobbed
the bomb
in the direction of her brother
, backed up so the bomb would not target her
and turned away. Wiley grabbed her head and forced her to watch as the bomb quickly found its human victim. The weapon deployed and within ten minutes
Biran
Hidar
was one of the undead.
After she was released with new orders to develop the '
Atomic
'
z
ombie
bomb
with researchers at
Penn
, she stumbled out of the
Columbia
medical complex. She ignored the limo that Wiley had provided and
nearly tumbled
down the subway steps. She paid her fare and walked deeper into the station. As the train approached and the other passengers sidled up to the yellow line,
Mira
backed away.