The Illuminati (30 page)

Fred Lively had been in an all-day meeting with Secretary of Defense Andrew Singer and other selected members of the Cabinet. Their discussions centered around the growing problem of what to do with the Christians they had been rounding up. Since martial law had been declared, they were able to bypass the normal legal arraignment problems, but the sheer numbers of detainees were overcrowding the jails all over the country.

“Also,” said Ben Randall, the FBI director, “there seems to be a sympathy movement growing in parts of the country.”

“What do you mean by a ‘sympathy movement'?” Jason Franklin snapped as he looked up.

“It seems that friends and neighbors are hiding many of the Christians now, even some neighbors who have no previous affiliation with the movement. It makes it hard to round them up.”

What he heard from the next room infuriated Amir Razzak. He spoke into the device that allowed no one but Franklin and Rutland to hear him. “I want the Christians eliminated! They represent the only stumbling block to my plans. Activate the detention camps in the occupied zones.”

Rutland heard the message and glanced over at Franklin who was visibly shaken.
He's weak too
, Rutland thought. Inside Rutland felt his spirits pick up.
Soon we won't need him any longer either
.

It was Franklin who finally spoke up. “We have set up temporary detention camps to hold the terrorists. Andrew, you allocate the trains necessary to transport them to the locations you're given.”

“But Mr. Franklin, you're talking about millions of people. I can't . . .”

“Shut up, you sniveling coward!” Cal Rutland snapped. “We'll leak the information to the press. The American people will cheer when they hear about the terrorists being deported from their cities. You just be sure the trains are available when they're needed.”

“But what about the military?” Singer asked tentatively, looking for some way to regain his dignity.

“The military will be with us,” Rutland replied. “We have been placing members of the Society in positions of authority for decades. We will soon control the government and the military.”

Razzak knew better than Rutland that what he said was true. For decades top recruits from the families of Society members had been educated in military schools and had risen to positions of authority until many of the top levels were dominated by them. The plans of the Society had been ingrained in those recruited into the Society. The very fact that such a massive effort seemed impossible was what made it possible. Even the destruction of the American economy and morality since the early 1950s had been carefully planned through a systematic takeover of much of the media and virtually all of the movie industry. The movie industry sold Americans on immorality, and the media sold them on government handouts.

Once the average American was hooked on easy credit and government handouts, the plan was to collapse the U.S. economy. Just as Adolf Hitler had been positioned to lead Germany after a collapsed economy, so Razzak knew that Americans would welcome his leadership, given the proper incentive. The plan was simple: Give them their creature comforts, take them away, and then promise them again.

Shortly after the meeting with Singer and Franklin, the attacks by the so-called terrorists were stepped up. Many cities were plunged into darkness as power stations were sabotaged by groups calling themselves the CRC. Members of the media received threats, stating that unless the attacks on Christians were stopped, they would themselves become targets. Instead of reducing the coverage and attacks, the media increased their assaults, virtually daring the terrorists to touch even one of the sacred public figures. However, at the same time they demanded additional police protection. The airwaves were filled with vicious allegations against the terrorists in general, and Christian terrorists in particular.

Within days, a series of events set the media aflame.

Terrorists, using a handheld SAM, shot down a commercial liner as it was landing at the Dallas airport. More than two hundred people were killed, including the newly elected governor of Texas, James Basset, a staunch supporter of the “Crack Babies Bill.” He had campaigned under the banner of allowing the organ transplant facilities to be located in his state, which meant thousands of new jobs and billions of dollars in potential revenue for Texas.

He had been strongly opposed by the religious community and had been swept into office, along with President Hunt, when the voters approved the new law. Since President Hunt's assassination, the governor had received several threats, and at least one plot against his life had been uncovered, according to the FBI.

All day the networks had shown scenes of the disaster and interviewed members of the governor's staff. The questions were carefully caged in terms meant to point the finger back at the group called the Constitutional Rights Committee.

Mary Howell, an aide to Governor Basset, was especially bitter: “We have all lost a friend and a great statesman,” she said angrily as the tears welled up in her eyes. “The governor opposed those who would have kept Texas in the Dark Ages. I hope they all die!”

“Do you mean that you would like to see the death penalty reinstated for political crimes such as this?” the WNN interviewer asked cautiously.

“I mean I wish the people of Texas would rise up and exterminate the vermin who did this,”Howell said bitterly. “They don't hesitate to kill our appointed leader; why should we hesitate to eliminate them?”

“You don't mean to say that you support citizens taking the law into their own hands, do you?” the reporter questioned. “Wouldn't that result in anarchy in a country committed to law and order?”

“Just how much law and order do you think Governor Basset and the others aboard that plane got?” Howell shouted as the scenes of the children being hauled away from the crash site were flashed on the screen. “Kill them all!” she screamed as the cameras followed every detail of the interview.

The Insta-pol survey showed that 40 percent of Americans agreed with Howell—an increase of 30 percent from the first time the same sentiment had been voiced after the Hunt assassination. Clearly the campaign against the religious right was gathering steam as the violence continued . . .

“It's time,” Razzak said to Jason Franklin, as they watched the interview. “Execute Phase Four immediately.”

Outside the offices of WNN in Atlanta, ABC in New York, and the Satellite Direct Broadcast office in Hollywood, men were already in position with automatic weapons. Calls had been made to those who had been planted among the members of the CRC. The targets had been selected long before the most current events made the United States a potential powder keg.

Under the dictates of martial law, the movements of all citizens were monitored, and anyone found on the streets after dark was stopped and questioned. The orders were clear: Anyone found carrying a weapon of any kind was to be arrested and held without bond. Anyone caught firing a weapon was to be shot on sight, as were all looters.

This particular evening small arms fire was heard several blocks from each of the major news networks' studios. Calls were issued for backup support and all available units were diverted to the outbreaks. The police on duty outside the offices of ABC in New York were puzzled. Why would the dispatcher command them all to go as backup?

“Do you think we should let the people at ABC know we're leaving?” the young policeman asked his sergeant.

“Ours is not to question why,” the older man said sarcastically. “The dispatch will tell 'em all to stay inside for awhile. You just be sure you have your vest zipped up.”With that he fired up the armored personnel carrier—APC—and motioned for the other officers to get inside. Within minutes, they were moving toward the downtown theater district where the shots had been fired.

As they pulled out, the sergeant said, “Not even these newspeople would be nuts enough to walk these streets without guards around, anyway.” One of the others grunted in agreement as he rolled up the bulletproof side windows. “I don't know how many of those terrorists are still around, but the pimps and dealers down here are carrying enough heavy artillery to start a war all by themselves.”

The younger police officer shuddered as he thought about all the wounded and dead they had seen in the ghettos. It was like a war zone for sure. “I wouldn't travel these streets, even with a flak jacket,” he commented as he ratcheted a live round into the overhead machine gun. He thought about the twin thirty-caliber Gatlings mounted fore and aft on the APC, and mentally cringed at the thought of drug dealers buying the same vehicles, as had been rumored.

The ABC nightly news anchor, Ted Chandler, left the studio offices and headed for the street level entrance where he had left his car. It was nearly eleven P.M., but he knew the police were all around the building, or so he thought. Once he left the protection of the bulletproof glass entrance he felt naked and vulnerable. He was wearing a kevlar inner-coat lining, strong enough to stop a thirty-caliber bullet fired at close range. But the sniper with the night scope didn't aim at his chest. Instead he aimed at the unprotected head area, squeezing off three quick rounds. The most recognizable face in America suddenly became unrecognizable. Ted Chandler, television anchorman and long-time liberal, was dead before he hit the pavement.

Almost simultaneously, the same scene was being played out at the offices and studios of all the major networks and newspapers throughout the country.

Since threats against the media had been common, even before the riots, special blast-proof windows and doors had been installed at WNN in Atlanta. Inside the newsroom, reports were streaming in from message centers all over the country about attacks on media personnel. In one of those instinctive moves born out of years of facing danger, John Fletcher, the network night manager, ordered all the staff to drop what they were doing and head to the reinforced basement conference room.

Mari Itamo, the Japanese manager, objected. “We need to cover the stories as they come in,” she said. “This building is secure, and there are security forces outside. It is safe.”

“Then you stay here,” Fletcher shouted as he swore at one of the reporters who was still at his desk. “This whole thing stinks, and I don't intend for my people to become one of those stories.”

Mari was still fuming when she sat down at her desk to draft a tele-fax to her manager.
Americans are cowards
, she thought. She never had a chance to construct the memo. From the alley across the street two men dressed in combat sweats were aiming a Lodan missile at the building.

The Lodan was designed to combat terrorists holding buildings in downtown areas. Many buildings had been bomb-proofed by drug dealers who often turned them into armed fortresses. Most were heavily armed and fiercely defended. Charles Lodan, a weapons engineer with Harp Industries, had designed a weapon to clear them out. It was both simple and inexpensive. He took surplus LAARs rockets from the Middle East conflict days and equipped them with recycled uranium warheads. When the uranium plug was superheated by the explosion of the warhead against a solid wall, it would penetrate up to thirty inches of solid, case-hardened steel. The weapon roared as its rocket was launched.