The Illuminati (32 page)

Bob and Ellen were loaded in the back of what was obviously a government car. Tooms, still angry, kept his weapon pointed at them the whole time. Something in Ellen had snapped. She had stopped screaming and sat, almost comatose, staring out the window.

The children were loaded into the front seat with Shepperd. “What will happen to us?”Marci whimpered.

Shepperd replied compassionately, “I don't really know, honey. I have orders to pick up just your parents, but we can't leave you here by yourselves, can we? You'll be all right.” Shepperd had lied to calm the young girl. His orders included the entire family.
I don't like this
, he thought to himself.
They don't fit any terrorist pattern I've ever studied
.

As they pulled out of the driveway and headed down the street, they met a gang of youths carrying “Gay Power” signs and wielding sticks and bottles. Behind them, three houses were showing obvious signs of being looted, and one was on fire.

When the group saw the car approaching, several of the youths threw bottles and rocks at it. Tooms, in the back seat with the Cofers, stuck his weapon out the window and fired a short burst into the air. When the staccato of the automatic weapon reached the group, they scattered like ants in every direction, dropping looted electronic equipment and other contraband.

Tooms laughed, “I guess they'll think twice before they throw rocks again.” Then he swore as he touched the hot barrel to his hand while drawing the weapon back into the car.

The pair drove the children to a converted holding area in an elementary school building. Agent Shepperd got out to talk with the woman in charge of the detention center.

“These are the Cofer children,” he said quietly so the children couldn't hear him. Then he showed the list to the woman who compared it to hers.

“Okay, they're on the list. I'll handle them from here.”

“Where will they go?” Shepperd inquired.

“Who knows? I just process 'em and get 'em ready for travel. I suppose they'll go to some permanent place, once the parents are processed.”

Donald Shepperd grew more troubled. He had been with the FBI for more than twenty years, and old habits don't change easily. He knew that most of the people they had picked up had had their constitutional rights violated. He didn't have a warrant—just a list of known subversives supplied by the attorney general's office. He knew that the treatment Tooms had given Cofer would be enough for any first-year law student to get him off.

They drove on to another building near the perimeter, where the Cofers would be detained. Bob wanted desperately to ask about his children, but Tooms held the gun against his sore ribs, just waiting for him to ask another question so he could jam the weapon into his side again. Bob prayed silently as they rode on,
God, please be with our children, and protect them from harm
. He also prayed for Ellen, who didn't even appear to notice that the children were gone. They only sign that she was still alive was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and the infrequent blinking of her eyelids. In a way, her dreamlike shock was a blessing.

Shepperd pulled the car into the driveway of what was obviously a converted office complex. The entire facility was now surrounded by a triple-layered, razor-sharp, wire fence. As they drove up, a guard swung the outer gates open. Once they were inside, he closed them behind the car and opened the inner gates.

This is no makeshift operation. They didn't build all this since the riots started
, Shepperd thought to himself.
Someone put this in motion several months ago
.

When the Cofers were taken from the car, Tooms spoke to the agent in charge—a large, tough-looking woman. “Here's one for you,” and casting an admiring glance at Ellen, he added jokingly. “Let me know when you get her into the next stage of processing. I might need to oversee that.” The woman laughed, “You're a nasty ole man, Agent Tooms.”

He winked and said coarsely, “What do you mean? It's just part of my job.”

Once they were in the processing center, Bob was hustled off to one side of the large room where several dozen other people were being processed and stripped, while the processors gawked at them. He panicked as he thought of Ellen experiencing this treatment. He looked around, but he couldn't spot her among all the others.

He realized he was next in line when he heard the angry clerk yell, “You! Strip!”

Bob didn't move, and the man swore and shouted again.

“I said take your clothes off. Are you deaf as well as stupid?”

“You don't have any right to treat me this way,” Bob said firmly. “And what have you done with my wife?”

“Oh, we have a lawyer in the group.” The processor was a large man. He moved directly in front of Bob. “Would you like to see how we treat terrorists in here, you creep?”

Bob remembered the treatment he had received in his own yard and had no doubt that the man was deadly serious. “No, I'll do as you say,” he said submissively.

“Now that's a good boy,” the man said mockingly. “Now get undressed!”

Across the room the angry woman was shouting at Ellen, “I told you to get undressed!”

Ellen was now aware of her surroundings and she screamed, “No! I won't take my clothes off. You can't make me.”

Agent Tooms, who had been standing to one side talking to another one of the agents, walked over to Ellen and struck her across the face with the back of his hand. “You'll do what you're told here, sweetie,” he said crudely. Then he reached out and grabbed her blouse, ripping it nearly off.

Suddenly Tooms was swung around, and as he started to protest, he was struck in the stomach. He collapsed in a heap. Donald Shepperd was standing over him, daring him to get up again. Tooms, fat and badly out of shape, was in no condition to do anything but groan.

Shepperd snapped at the big woman behind the receiving desk, “You get some privacy curtains around these women, and you get the men out of here, now! Is that clear?”

“Just who do you think you are?” she protested.

“I'm going to be the agent that slugs you in about thirty seconds,” Shepperd growled as his eyes narrowed. “You may have to strip search these people, but you're not going to make a public spectacle out of them. Now get going,” he said with finality as he stormed toward her.

Hearing the shouting, the supervisor came over to where Shepperd was standing and asked, “What's your problem?”

“I want some privacy for these women. And keep the men out of here!” Shepperd ordered. “You do it now, or you'll answer to me too.”

“Listen, agent . . .”

“Shepperd—Donald Shepperd,” he replied angrily. “You report me or do whatever you want, but right now I want these people treated like human beings. As far as I can determine, they haven't even been formally charged.”

The supervisor, only a recent recruit for the detention duty, backed down. “Okay, I'll get some curtains up,” she said. “But you'll have to answer for this.”

“Fine,” Shepperd growled as he put his jacket around a young woman standing totally naked in front of him.

Something is dreadfully wrong here
, Shepperd said to himself as he pushed Tooms ahead of him toward the door.
I'm not going to be a party to innocent people being treated like animals. My great-grandfather fought in Europe to ensure that the Nazis didn't get a chance to rule the world. This is no better . .
.

18

O
IL

When the Middle East War broke out in 2010, nearly two million Moslems were aligned against Israel. The spark that ignited the war was a report by OPEC that Israel had drilled slant wells in Israeli-occupied Iraq.

Slant wells had been declared illegal by the world conference on oil conservation, which Israel steadfastly refused to acknowledge. Even under pressure by the United States, Israel had refused to abandon its operation.

An OPEC report verified that as far back as the first years of the new millennium, Israel had been drilling slant wells in an effort to tap into the last major oil pool in the Middle East. Jews around the world had poured hundreds of billions of dollars into the project. One of the major fund-raisers was Jason Franklin. Amir Razzak also contributed heavily to the project. Working through Rabbi Moshi Amitt, Razzak had provided nearly $100 billion in development funds. Control of these funds had thrust Amitt into the leadership of the Knesset, the Israeli ruling Cabinet, and ultimately the religious leadership of Israel.

Virtually every renowned geologist in the world had mocked the project. The very idea of drilling under another country to tap an oil pool was ridiculous, they had said. They presented charts and graphs showing that the cost of drilling would far outstrip the market value of any oil that might be recovered. What they failed to take into account was that Israel had a bigger agenda in mind. The oil itself wasn't the end. It was a means to accomplish a greater purpose.

Then in 2008, Israel tapped the Bashra pool under Iraq with a thirty-six-inch slant well, and quietly transferred the entire pool into their prepared salt domes along the Gaza, virtually pumping the Bashra pool dry in less than two years—all without the Arabs suspecting a thing until the oil simply began to run out. Suddenly Israel was independent of foreign oil, at least for the next ten years.

A hoard of red-faced geologists flooded into Israel to study their drilling techniques, but the government put all of the slant project land under close military guard and sealed them off. As reports leaked out, it was discovered that Israel didn't have just one slant well project going; there were dozens. Through an undisclosed new method, they had found a way to drill miles with commercial slant wells. It became clear that their goal was not just to tap into their Arab neighbors' oil supplies; they intended to drain them.

The combined forces of Iraq, Iran, Libya, and even troops from Saudi Arabia, aligned against Israel. The United States threatened to cut off all aid—military and economic—if Israel didn't cease the drilling. But by 2010, the Israelis were building virtually all of their own military equipment and selling billions of dollars worth on the world market as well. Even the Arabs had bought Israeli-made military hardware and were dependent on them for parts. Israel simply thumbed its nose at the U.S. and other nations, forming an alliance with Zimbabwe, Zululand (the old South Africa), and several other emerging African powers.

On August 17, 2010, the combined Arab forces launched an attack on Israel using chemical weapons. Even as the missiles and long-range artillery shells fell on the frontline troops, Israel and Zululand launched a tactical nuclear strike against the combined Arab forces. In thirty minutes, the fighting was over. Thirty thousand Israelis were killed by the chemical attack, and four hundred thousand Arabs were totally disintegrated by the Israelis and Africans. The Arabs, who had relied on the U.S. to keep Israel from using nuclear weapons, petitioned for peace immediately.