Olympus Device 2: The Olympus Device Book Two (17 page)

Grace didn’t answer immediately, her unblinking eyes staring
hard. “He’s not the dangerous actor in this play. You and your kind are. I know him. I know his values, morals, and heart. Our government… men like you… brought that violence on themselves. Shooting at Durham with jet fighters? Ambushing him with snipers? Attack helicopters and missiles? Really? If any person is going to hold the rail gun in his hands, I for one am glad it’s a man of integrity like Dusty Weathers. God only knows what men of such high moral character, the men who run our country, would do with such power.”

The DOJ attorney stiffened in his seat, “Our government has the right to protect itself. Yes, we have the occasional bad apple - any organization does. But we are
the people
too. Your neighbors, the person sitting next to you in church and the one cheering with you at the school basketball game; we’re the government. There’s no separate class or ruling caste. We are all the same.”

Grace shook her head, “Oh really? So the IRS being used as a political tool – that’s my neighbors? The NSA spying – those are folks that come and play bridge on Wednesday? How about police using Stingrays… those fake cell phone towers and never getting a proper warrant? That’s the guy in the checkout line at the grocery store? You’re full of shit, sir. Brimming with a fecal-thick belief that having authority makes you beyond reproach. Dusty didn’t turn over the rail gun immediately because he doesn’t trust our government with such power. I don’t blame him.
Your track record sucks.”

His palm slammed the table,
clearly indicating frustration and anger and… fear. Grace detected fear. His voice sounded with fright as well. “That’s not fair! Your examples are tainted by your own bias and malignant with ignorance. We are fighting extremely capable and clever opposition. Do you think terrorist organizations don’t utilize technology? Do you think organized crime hasn’t heard of the internet? What about the enemies of the state? China, North Korea, Iran, Russia, and another half-dozen lesser players are all well-funded, technically savvy, and sworn to do us harm. We need every tool we can get to defend ourselves. I sleep better at night knowing my government is on guard, protecting our freedom.”

Grace remained ca
lm, her mind partially distracted, wondering why the all-mighty, all-powerful DOJ was so frightened. Finally deciding she wasn’t going to solve that mystery, she responded. “I saw how your department cooked up a case against Hank Barns. I was arrested as well. I witnessed firsthand how you took innocent, unrelated events and stitched together a tale of fantasy against my client and me. So these tools you’re so proud of… these supposed assets in the defense of democracy and freedom… they’re being abused already. The more power our government possesses, the more totalitarian it becomes. You’re not protecting anyone’s freedom; you’re restricting it.”

Sighing, Gr
ace’s voice then became sad. “In law school, I was taught that there are so many laws and regulations, every American is unknowingly violating at least one of them every day. Any citizen can be ensnared in the complex web of federal, state, and local law. We are all criminals who only walk free because of the decisions of men like you. I now live in a country where freedom is granted at the benevolence of a select few who enforce those laws. No one elected you. Not one single person cast a ballot with your name on it. Well, no offense, sir – but that’s not freedom. That’s not liberty. That’s not what America is all about. The chances of having my life ruined by men like you are greater than any terrorist threat. We’ve replaced one danger with something much, much worse.”

The veins on her opponent’s forehead emerged, his hands shaking with rage. Somehow, he managed to control his voice, keeping it low and threatening. “Durham Weathers is a terrorist. He is a murderer. He
has destroyed millions and millions of dollars of property. He has affected tens of thousands of lives in a negative way. I can and will use any tool I have at my disposal to apprehend the man and see him executed for his crimes. If the stroke of my hammer misses the head of the nail on occasion, so be it. I will drive that nail home.”

“Well, good,” Grace smirked, somehow taking pleasure in the man’s distress. “Now you understand my motivation in representing Durham Weathers. I’m just the tool to protect his freedom.”

Agent Shultz glanced at the TV remote, eyeing the deli sandwich sitting beside it on the table with mouth-watering anticipation. Returning to the hotel suite, his temporary home, for the first time in days, he
had been looking forward to a shower, shave, quick meal, and about 12 hours of sleep.

He almost decided against the television. Watching Hollywood’s version of law enforcement was comical at best, boring at minimum. The real world just didn’t work the way popular shows depicted and knowing the truth ruined any entertainment value.

Since he’d been immersed so deeply in the Weathers’ case, he decided to watch some national news, maybe catch up on a few of his favorite teams. The shower and shave having been accomplished, it was now time to devour some food and then hit the hay. Despite almost 20 minutes under the hot water, he was still wound up pretty tight. He desperately needed to occupy his mind with anything but that damned rail gun.

Unwrapping the foot-long turkey and c
heese, Shultz flipped channels between bites, hoping to find something that would distract him from what had been the sole focus of his existence for several days.

He skipped the celebrity dance show. The next image of
a police car engaged in a high-speed chase was quickly bypassed as well. The foreign language soccer game held no interest.

He paused to chew and swallow while viewing a national cable news station, hoping to see some scores or a spo
rts segment. Instead, the director of the FBI appeared after the commercial, sitting across the desk from the host of a nightly news show.

“Director, my sources are telling me that recent events in Houston are all related to an extremely powerful invention created by one man. A local paper in Houston even produced a story entitled, “God’s Gun.” In addition, I’m being told that this technology was offered to the United States government in exchange for some sort of guarantee that it wouldn’t be weaponized. Is there any truth to that information?”

“I’m sorry, Bill, but I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” the boss replied, using law enforcement’s equivalent of, “None of your fucking business.”

“But sir,” the commentator pressed, “
the government’s policies regarding this matter have little to do with the ongoing investigation. I’m being told this technology represents a tremendous advancement in physics and has the potential to generate clean, renewable energy on a massive scale. Why would our elected officials try and suppress such a discovery?”

“I can neither confirm
, nor deny the existence of any such discovery, Bill. We are looking for a man suspected of terrorist activities… a man with known ties to foreign intelligence services. Anything beyond that is mere speculation.”

The reporter wasn’t
going to let it go. “Something caused the massive destruction in Houston, Director. Law enforcement and your own bureau are being very tight lipped about the entire affair. My sources tell me that innocent citizens have been arrested and held in connection with the case. There are even rumors that Mr. Durham Weathers offered to surrender, well before the last two incidents that took so many lives.”

The head of the FBI remained stoic, “Again, I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation. I’m not aware of the president offering any such pardon, nor would I make a recommendation for him to do so. We are dealing with a dangerous individual who may be supported by hostile foreign powers.”

The host paused for a moment, the smirk on his face reminding Shultz of a predator who had just cornered his prey. It didn’t take long for the newsman to drop his bomb. Shuffling a stack of papers on his desk, he began reading. “So you’re saying that the Air Force Space Command’s detection of at least seven events, described to me as ‘miniature electromagnetic pulses,’ has nothing to do with this investigation?”

“Where did he get that information?” Shultz said to the television. “How in the hell…”

The agent’s boss, despite being ambushed on national television, didn’t flinch. “I wouldn’t be qualified to comment either on the U.S. Air Force’s capabilities or on the subject of any such pulses.”

“Aren’t EMP events linked to the detonation of nuclear weapons, Mr. Director?”

“I believe so, sir, but I’m not a nuclear physicist.”

The reporter continued, “I have the list of dates and times where these EMP events occurred, Director. It is interesting that they coincide exactly with some other spectacular news stories. For example, one such incident occurred at exactly the same moment as the high-
tension power lines were downed in Houston a few weeks ago - an event authorities blamed on metal fatigue. Another pulse was recorded at the same moment that two Texas National Guard fighter jets went down. The NTSB reported the two planes had collided during maneuvers. A third EMP occurred at exactly the same moment that the police were attacked in downtown Houston – an explosion eventually blamed on a ruptured gas main. I could go on and on, sir. In every case, it appears as though our elected officials are covering something up.”

The camera switched
to a close up of the director’s face. Shultz could plainly see the beads of sweat forming on the man’s forehead. Still, the head of the FBI maintained his cool. “I’m sorry, Bill. Was there a question there?”

Now it was the reporter’s turn to grow emotional. “I’ll be blunt, sir. I’m seeing a trail of evidence that points to a
cover up on a massive scale. And what’s even more troubling is that I can’t see any good reason why - unless there was a complete mishandling of the situation.”

It was clear to Shultz that his boss didn’t like the words “cover up,” a deep scowl appearing on t
he head FBI man’s face. But he didn’t say a word.

Frustrated, Bill turned to the camera and said, “In the next segment, we’ll have the H
ouse minority leader here to discuss the new tax proposal being floated in Congress next week. We’ll be right back.”

Shu
ltz switched off the television, partially disgusted by his lack of diversion, mostly troubled by the fact that the cat was out of the bag.

Despite 20 plus years as an FBI agent, he couldn’t always walk the agency line. There were certain cases, narrow situations where he was forced to be nothing more than a simple man. A man who was for
ced to pay heed to his conscience and soul – not some law or a superior’s wishes.

Deep inside, he knew the reporter on television was right. The entire case surrounding the Olympus Device had been mishandled from the start. Weathers had never been grante
d an ounce of “presumed innocence.” The man had been judged a terrorist and enemy of the state based on circumstantial evidence, political innuendo, and…

Shultz stopped, suddenly real
izing where this train of thought was taking him. It was fear that had driven Special Agent Monroe to react as he had. Fear of terrorists and another attack like 9-11.

He leaned back on the couch, staring at the blank screen across th
e room. The NSA spying, drone technology usage, and bypassing the warrant process were all symptoms of one thing. The agency’s reaction to Weathers was a direct result of an underlying current that had swept through every federal agency since Bin Laden had ordered the planes into the towers.

The terrorist
s had won. If their objective had been to alter America, they had achieved their goal. Despite the loss of every major engagement on the battlefield. Regardless of the fact that most of the men who had ordered the attack on the United States were either dead or imprisoned – they had achieved their objective. More powerful than any elected official or political party, they had become policymakers. They had rendered permanent changes to every American’s personal liberty in a single attack. No doubt about it, they had won.

When Shultz first joined the FBI, the
act of gathering evidence via electronic eavesdropping was a major step, often requiring several levels of approval before a warrant was even sought. Now, electronic intelligence was harvested en masse, without question.

The use of military grade capabilities was never considered, not
even by Herbert Hoover. As far as Shultz knew, the agency hadn’t even thought about using spy planes like the U2 or the Blackbird, despite that technology being available since the 1960s.