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Authors: Vincent Heck

Last War (42 page)

BOOK: Last War
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     Jason scanned his body chip.

     “What are you getting?”

     A flash of book text appeared into his head. The text read clear, but the meaning was blurry. Jason scanned again. ‘Tyranny’, ‘secret societies’ and George Washington and the freemason symbol passed through his mind.

     “This is the final war against secret societies.”

     “Bingo.” Tameka said. “We’ve gotta get money, greed and power out of politics. It will never happen with the Brendenhalls and Megiddos active.” Turning towards the listening group gathered, she continued. “So, Jason and I put a temporary secret society together. A group of the brightest people on earth. We searched I.Q. scores. We watched through the equipment we had. We developed a plan, then we killed ourselves and who we recruited off to execute it.”

     “Why’d you have to kill yourselves?” Betsy asked.

     “Because. It’s impossible to defeat these people under the surveillance they had implemented. In order to not be suspected—“

     “You had to not exist.” Czyra finished.
  

     Tameka looked at Czyra.
“Precisely. And you were our existing hero, kid. You did great.”

     A static noise sounded from Tameka’s device. “Attention.” A voice said from the speaker. “This is Homeland Security Advisor, Josh Grambling to the U.S. Military patrolling and in combat. You have my permission to secure our city back with any force necessary. Employ the most force as you can to quickly gain back our city.
Over and out.”

     “Megiddo has control. The Brendenhalls are done.” Michael said.

     “Yeah. You would have figured that would have had to happen at some point.” Tameka said. “With the country’s power down, the Brendenhalls are rendered useless. Their U.S. businesses are out of commission, they can’t check their stocks, they can’t get into their bank accounts, their cards don’t work – nothing. A nationwide powerdown instantly cuts them. The Megiddos now have control of this government, and it’s looking to get ugly.”

     She clicked her device to another channel. “This is
X to the patriots. It’s time for you to pick up your pants. Subtle Luminosity is complete. Last War at Mt. Megiddo has been engaged.”

     “Now, what do we do?” Dany asked.

     “We find somewhere to sit, and we wait.”

     Tameka grabbed guns for Michael, Jason, Czyra and herself.
Everyone sat on the grass at the base of the John A. Logan statue. “By time this is done, Michael, you should be the new President of the United States.”

     “We’re going to kill President Harris?” Michael asked.

     “No. Trust me on this one, President Harris is already gone. Megiddo is in charge.”

     “How do you know they’
d kill the President?”

     “Because the chairman of the Megiddos is Vice President.
Anyway to move into the highest position of power. That’s what the Megiddos are about.”

     “Fredrick Tyson?” Czyra asked.

     “That’s the one.”

     A man crept
up in the dark. Tameka flashed a light four times. The man returned a flash three times, and went into the back of the truck. Same happened for three more armed civilians.

     “So how long did it take you guys to organize it all?” Czyra asked.

     “A full seven years. It only took great young people like you and Dany three-four years to get yourselves together.”

     “Does it count that you tricked, and chipped me?” Dany asked Tameka.

     The trickle of fighters coming to restock turned into a throng of people quietly assembling and restocking.

     Jason stood up.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” He said quietly. The throng of people froze before Jason continued. “It’s Jason Upton and Michael Young here, from the Department of Homeland security.”

     A few guns cocked. “Wait.” Czyra said. “They’re good guys. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. Listen up, folks.”

     “Thanks, Czy. Hey, look. I know we have drones and military shooting at us. But, we need you to lead us into that stadium. Vice President, Frederick Tyson has killed President Harris. We need to take him down, and end this war. Mr. Young will be our new acting POTUS, and the decades long operation F.A.I.T.H. will be terminated for good. Just help us get in there.”

     Tameka spoke up. “Those weapons you just picked up are much more powerful than the ones you had. These are fully automatic guns. You could end up killing a lot of people if you don’t shoot the way you’ve been trained.
We’re going to send you into the building. You only fire on people in military gear with weapons. You got it? Let’s make this walk.”

    
Tameka jumped into her SUV, along with Michael, Jason, Christine, Clareese and Betsy. Dany climbed into the driver seat of his truck to the brigade down the quiet, dark, 13
th
St.

    
Thousands of civilians were still fighting in front of the Verizon Center downtown. The walk was about 10 blocks and 30 minutes long.

    
“How long do you think the Megiddos are going to stay in that building?” Dany asked.

     “They’ll stay until all the
ir members can safely exit.” Tameka said. “I have my device set to the military’s channel. I’ll know when they decide to leave. They haven’t, yet.”

     Injured and dead bodies lay motionless on the sidewalks and streets as the parade of
Logan Circle fighters moved closer to the Verizon Center.

     Another 3 minutes of marching lead to the corner of 7
th
and F St. Smoke and debris hovered in the air.

     “You folks ready?” Tameka asked. “We’re going to hop in Dany’s truck and barrel around the corner. We’re going to take this thing, and ram it straight into the front doors of the Verizon Center.”

     “But, what about the overhang?”

    
“Right. I guess we’re going to have to use the SUV.”

     Tameka shifted into gear.
“OK, folks. Buckle up. We’re heading in for a crash landing.” Tameka looked in the back. “Mom, girls, maybe you guys should stay here.” She called a couple of the biggest guys from the crowd. “These are our most prized possessions. Please take care of them. We’re going in there to take down the Megiddos.”

     “I’m not going anywhere.” Betsy said.

     “Mom. I promise you I’m coming back. I only need one more hour from you, then we can get our lives back.”

     Jason jumped out of the passenger seat and opened the door. He embraced Christine. “One more mission and then that’s it. I’ll be a … librarian after this.” He laughed. Christine leaned forward and kissed him. Her mouth tasted like peaches. “I love you babe.” She said.

     “I’ll be back.”

     She hopped out of the car, and helped Betsy down from the tall vehicle, too.

     Jason returned to his passenger side and buckled up. “Tell Dany we’re ready.”

     “Dany.” Tameka said. “It’s go-time.”

     The growl of the 18 wheeler revved high and slowly crept a wide turn onto F St. The headlights beamed through the foggy haze of dust. Dany blew his air horn the crowds parted out of the way towards the sidewalks. The tanks blocking the other end of the street geared up. The barrels of their cannons swiveled in front of their spotlights and aimed at the truck.

     Dany opened the door and hopped out hitting the ground hard as the tractor trailer barreled towards the tanks
. From behind the truck Tameka sped  through the path left behind. The SUV made a messy hop over the curb smashing through the front glass doors of the stadium.

     Over the radio, Tameka heard the
soldiers frantically scream “We have a breach. I repeat, the fort has been breached.”

     “Let’s go.” Tameka said to the semi-stunned Jason, Czyra, and Michael. Staggering into the building, they rushed to the suite level of the stadium with military chasing behind them. “Where would they be?” Jason asked.

     “We had a suite here.” Tameka said. “Whenever we’d meet, we’d go to the Player’s Club room.”

     Running down the hall behind Tameka Jason laughed.
“The Player’s Club?”

    
“Yeah. Their name. Not mine.”

     They approached the Player’s Club suites. Inside was quiet. “There are probably only a couple Megiddos in here.” Tameka whispered. The rest are probably on event level. I’m hoping I picked the right place.”

     “I think we do.” Czyra said. “There goes President Harris and Josh Grambling dead by the pool table.”

     Michael’s eyes began to tear up. “I can’t believe this.”

     “Why would President Harris be up here?” Czyra asked. “The event is way down on the floor.”

     “He was probably lured up here.”

     Out of the darkness a huge gun emerged from the shadows into a small pocket of light from the generator lights on the stage level. “Well done. That’s exactly what happened. I lured him up here, and had the best Defensive Advisor in America’s history finish him off.”

     Tyson sat in one of the suite love seats
waving his gun. So, we’ve got what? One, two, three, four, government employees pointing their guns at the Vice President of the United States, for what?”

     “Cut the crap, Tyson. You know I know that you’re the chairman and presider over the Megiddos.”

     “Well, looky here. If that ain’t about a rabbit’s tail. Tameka? Back from the dead, huh?” Well, you’ve got me. I’m guilty. But, um, how are you gonna prove it?” Tyson laughed. “These people don’t know their butts from their bellies. They’ve been told piss is apple juice for so long, they have no clue what apple juice tastes like, anymore.”

     One of you pansies are gonna have to shoot me.

     “No. We don’t. We can just take you into custody and—“

    
“And what? Let my precious media rip you to shreds? I don’t think so.” Tyson reached onto a small table sitting next to his chair and threw back a shot of brown liquor. “Look. Either way, we’ve got connections. Whether you kill me or not.” Tyson grinned. “But, don’t worry. I left something for the Harris family as a keepsake. This box of fingers.”

     Tyson held up a box marked with the Brendenhalls logo on it.
A gift from the Megiddos. Of course we have to stay in the shadows, you know that, Tameka, so… we figured we’d let our comrades take credit.”

     He tossed the box on to the pool table
. “You look confused, Jason. As if you don’t have a couple of bodies yourself.” Tyson opened a small book. “This little gem here, belongs to your friend, Mr. Grambling. Let me read a little bit of this.” He licked his index finger and flipped a few pages. “The ‘gun trafficking’ conspiracy, the 9/11 conspiracy, and basically all of the other big events from the early-90s until now were all designed around your psychology study results. You see, you did your job, and turned in your results, and you’re every bit as guilty as we are. Because, all we did was take your suggestions and your dandy little mind, and use it for the better of humankind. You’re just as guilty as us for the death of your daughter and those 3,000 others in 2001. You think washing your brain clean of a decade of terrorism is going to make you better? No. Facts remain, you were the biggest terrorist known to the United States of America. And if you don’t believe it, look at these files I’m going to leave right here on this pool table with your signature on each and every one of these operations.”

     Tyson dropped the folders onto the table and
broke through the four standing there. “Oh. That box of fingers, I figured you can give the Harris family their gift if you’d like. In the meantime, I have a war to finish against the rebels of America.”

     Tyson turned to walk away
, when a silencer sounded. Tyson stopped in his tracks, arching his back. He turned around to a weeping-eyed Czyra. Two more shots rang out hitting Tyson in his chest and forehead. “You bastard.” Czyra cried. “You’re not leaving this room alive.”

     Jason grabbed the gun from Czyra as Tyson fell to the floor.
Czyra crumbled into Jason’s arms. “It’s OK, Czy.” Jason said. “It’s over now.”

     In the distance they heard military uniform gear clanking in unison. A few troops entered the
dark room.

     “Fellas,
it’s Secretary of Homeland Security Michael Young and Deputy Secretary of Homeland Security, Jason Upton here. Stand down. We’ve got a dead President, Vice President, Homeland Security Advisor, and civilian in here. We’re going to need assistance. Let me see one of your walkie-talkies and go find help.” Michael grabbed a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. “All military personnel, this is Secretary of Homeland Security, Michael Young, ordering you to retreat from the area and back to base.”

     Within 4 minutes of that order, they heard a loud cheer outside of the stadium.

     “This victory didn’t come without a lot of major loss.” Tameka said.

     “They never do.” Jason responded.

BOOK: Last War
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