The Gillespie Five (A Political / Conspiracy Novel) - Book 1 (42) (27 page)

Chapter Fifty-Four

"Are you sure?"

"Damn straight.  Had them in my line of site.  There was one there that I didn't have a picture for, but the kid seemed to recognize him."

"Let me guess.  Black hair, about six foot?"

"That's him."

"Damn it!"

"Who is he?" 

"The kid's uncle, Alex Moore.  Just like Ken suspected."

"Fights like a soldier."

"Interesting. He's only a data guy from what we have on file." 

"I doubt that's all he is." 

Nathan filed this information away as a question for his investigators and Alex's brother.

"And there's something else."

"What?"

"It looks like they've been beaten, at least Alex has.  His bruises looked fresh and the kid was asking him if they were going to be questioned again soon.  I take it by being 'questioned' he meant beaten as well."

Nathan didn't know what to say to this.

"What are you going to do now?"

"Keep putting pressure on the FBI, but that would be easier if we had proof."

"You mean like pictures and video?"

Nathan thought he heard a smile in John's voice.

"You know that's what I mean."

"Consider it done.  I'll send you some pics when I hang up.  I didn't have any video running this time but I'll stick around and see what else happens.  You never know."

Nathan hung up, wondering what he should do next.  He knew he was on dangerous territory here and one wrong step might mean the detainees disappeared again, maybe this time for good.

'Stop being so melodramatic,' he told himself.  It wasn't like this was Russia. 

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John didn’t glance at the caller ID when the phone rang again.  Thinking it was Nathan, he said, "What did you forget?"

The man that answered wasn’t Nathan.

John was about to hang up when the man said something that made the blood drain from his face.  Unable to respond, he listened numbly as the man continued.

Finally the man asked, "Is that clear?"

It was a moment before John could find his voice.  "And you can make this happen?"

"Guaranteed."

"The Borne man will know."

"It won’t matter."

"Why do you want me to do this?"

"In light of what I just told you we could do, do you really care?"

Before John could respond, the man hung up.

John looked at the remaining civilians milling about the small area.  His gaze then moved to his .223 caliber sniper rifle.  Effective enough to do the job they were asking.  He just couldn’t understand why they were asking him to do it.  Or how they had found out about him in the first place. 

His thoughts turned to his kids and wife, and the man’s promise.  John would have preferred a death threat.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Sunday night, Michael watched the latest talk on the boards flying by, feeling like he had stepped into a remake of The Matrix.  The protest attacks had gone way better than planned, despite the increasing amount of politicians calling for more laws, and the chats were off the charts – most of them scrolling too fast to read.  And he was having a blast, wondering what else µβ was going to come up with.

He was also thinking about what other actions it would take on his part before µβ let him take it to the next level with their group.  After all, he’d already been invited to a private chat to do something to the exclusion of the regular core group.  That
had
to be some sort of test, surely. 

And he so wanted to get to the next level.  If only to ask the million questions he had for them.  Like how long had they really been around?  What was their real purpose?  Was there really such a group as NIL or NULL?  And, if so, what did
they
do? 

Over the last several weeks he had scoured the internet and various chatrooms for any word on µβ or NIL/NULL but had come up with very little.  Enigmas wrapped in mysteries and cloaked in speculation.  He
hated
that!

The chatrooms lit up as dec3ptikh0n and a few other well-known trouble makers came online, drawing his attention back to the conversation.  He watched as they were greeted with mixed enthusiasm and waited to see what the group was proposing
this
time.  Dec3ptikh0n and his group had pulled off some pretty amazing hacks in the past, but tended to be loaners.  They were in it for the bragging rights. Why they were hanging around the group discussions for the Gillespie Five protest hacks was a mystery to Michael.  The protests were way lame by dec3ptikh0n’s standards. 

It didn't take long to find out.  His eyes grew bigger as he read the proposals for new attacks and he even laughed out loud at a few. 

This could be fun
, he thought.

The invite to a private chat came fifteen minutes later.  He accepted and typed:

dec3ptikh0ns on a rolz!

<µβ>  he's a fucking idiot.  stupid fag has the world hating us

oh harsh dude.  he's on our side

<µβ>  doesn't matter.  what he's proposing is only going to fuel the political fires we've started

Michael wasn't sure what to make of µβ's response.  Normally µβ was egging this kind of stuff on.

someone need a shot of something.  like whiskey?

<µβ> no.  a fly swatter would be better.  that ass and his group stirred a hornets nest.  but we’ve got other problems.

?

Michael read as µβ explained.  When he finished, Michael gave a low whistle.  This was cool as shit! FBI, espionage and now this.  No fucking
way
he was going back to school in the next few days and missing all this.  Quickly, he texted his mom, telling her he was feeling sick again.

so what to do, dude

<µβ> contact our motorcycle friend again.  make sure he understands he and the doctor both need to make like a ghost and disappear for a while

where

<µβ> he'll know.  he knows some friends of gr@yg@nd01f.  they'll help

Michael closed the chatroom and put a message out, under a different handle, on the many channels he knew gr@yg@nd01f’s friend tended to hang out.  While he waited for a reply, he turned back to a project he'd been working on for the next set of lulz.

An hour later he received a text from his mom telling him to be sure to clean his room and she wasn't sure when or if she'd be home tonight.  Nothing about 'what was wrong' or 'did he need to see a doctor'.  Typical. 

Sighing, he turned back to his project.  It was nearly four in the morning before a bell ring let him know he'd received a response from his intended contact. Quickly, he typed what µβ had told him.  A two word reply was all he received. 

'Got it'.

Michael wondered, not for the first time, who this guy was.  But he knew better than to ask too many questions.  He was more interested in getting to know more about µβ and how he could gain
more
access, not get kicked out. 

Turning back to his project he hit play and barked a laugh when the animation of Senator Gillespie and Greg Barrett having wild monkey sex started playing.  The tag, 'Stop Fucking Us Over.  Free the Gillespie Five' blinked at the top.  Tomorrow, the FBI would wake up to this as their home page.

He was still laughing as he ran the script to push it to the website.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Jane, still tired from her late night arrival back at the hotel, was getting ready to go into work Monday morning when there was a knock at her hotel door.  Already nervous, for reasons she couldn't identify as anything other than nerves, she grabbed her .22 before walking to the door and peering through the portal.  When she didn't see anyone, she quietly opened the door, glancing down both ends of the hallway.  Finding the hallway deserted she glanced down and noticed a white envelope.  In the lower right hand corner she could see the same mark that had been on the package containing the laptop.  Hesitantly she picked up the envelope and went back inside.

For some reason she felt the need to lock both locks on the door before she opened the envelope.  Inside she found a note with three short sentences.

They know you visited the senator.  They are not happy. 

Make sure you're on the 8:30am tour bus.  Pack lightly.

Turn off phone.

It was signed,
A friend of
gr@yg@nd01f.  Jane was still trying to decide what to make of the letter when her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"What the
hell
did you do?"

"Well hello to you too, David.  And what are you talking about and why are you whispering?"

"Barrett is on a rampage.  I overheard the guards talking.  They’ve been ordered to hold you when you get to work today until he gets back."

"Why?  Where is he?"

"I don't know why, but he's mad.  He flew straight from D.C. to see the senator and is supposed to be here later tonight."

Jane felt suddenly sick to her stomach.  "The senator?"

"Yes.  Now, tell me what happened."

Jane looked at the note in her hand.  "Did you drop something off by my room this morning?"

"No.  Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Jane, talk to me."

"I can't, John."

She heard him sigh heavily.  "Then you'd better be prepared for an ass chewing when you get here."

"Thanks."

"See you soon."

"Sure."

Jane hung up, feeling sicker by the minute.  At least now she had a reason for the nervousness she'd felt since waking. 

I guess the senator isn't interested in justice.

Somewhat in a daze she finished dressing, imagining exactly what would happen if she went in.  Garrett would probably charge her with insubordination or something.  Her career would be trashed. And there was a chance Barrett would charge her with treason, depending on what he knew. 

Obviously he knew about her visit to see Gillespie, but did he know about her speaking with Alex?  Or that she had gone to Denver to meet someone?  After the last conversation she'd had with Alex, she realized anything was possible and wondered if she'd ever feel secure on her computer again.

The sound of a zipper closing brought her out of her musings.  She looked down, half startled to find she had packed her backpack.  She stared at the backpack for a moment, telling herself this was ridiculous. She had done
nothing
wrong, there was nothing they could charge her with. 

But they had nothing against your detainees either, did they?

Don't be ridiculous.  They have nothing on you.

Jane tried to ignore the warring voices in her head but was having difficulty.  It didn't help that deep down she could hear another voice that just kept repeating one word. 
Run.

Realizing what she needed to do, she grabbed her computer and then, using the web version of Outlook, typed an email saying she was feeling sick and wouldn't be in until tomorrow.  She put it on a time delay to send in two hours and then turned off her WiFi and her cell phone.  Putting everything in her backpack she headed out to the bus.  According to her watch, the 8:30AM bus was due in ten minutes. 

As she sat down to wait, her mind refusing to take in her current situation, she wondered what they were going to do to get Barrett’s information.  There was no way she could get the keyloggers near him now.

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Barrett paced the senator's inner office, waiting for him to show.  As ordered, he had arrived bright and early Monday to show the senator the proof he had demanded.  He glanced at the wall clock which read six a.m. and grimaced.  He had been here since five-thirty a.m. without so much as an offer for coffee.

He was still angry at having to be here in the first place, but this was enhanced by the fact that their last several days chasing leads had proved to be futile.  They had netted no one.  The team was still trying to figure out what happened.  On top of that, he’d received word that the doctor had returned to the hotel Sunday, safe and sound.  He had thought that by now the group would have done something about her.  Not that it mattered.  If they hadn’t taken care of it by the time he finished his meeting with Gillespie, he’d ordered the guards to hold her until he returned. 

Glancing at the clock again, he decided he could be waiting on the senator forever so he might as well be productive.  Logging in to his computer, he signed onto his email account.  Quickly he scanned through the several hundred emails he'd received in just the last day to see if there had been an update on what had happened to their leads.  But, after scanning through several emails, he was disappointed to find there was still no answer.  Irritated, he shot off another email, his agitation growing as he glanced at his clock and noticed it was nearly six-thirty.   It had now been nearly an hour since he'd been led back here and still no word on when the senator would arrive. 

Knowing he needed something to calm him down before dealing with Gillespie, he decided to do one of his favorite things.  Check the balance in his accounts. 

He was grinning like the Cheshire cat at the numbers when the senator finally strolled in.

"Glad to see you are in a good mood."  Gillespie's expression didn't match his words.

Barrett carefully schooled his own expression, forcing a polite smile.  "Yes, sir.  I'm just reading through all of our findings again and I think this will put a stop to any doubts Dr. Lyndsay may have given you."

"Let us hope so.  I will not hesitate to go to the press about this if I find out we are holding innocent citizens."

"Even if it could affect your chance at the presidency?"

Gillespie looked at Barrett as if Barrett were something he might find at the bottom of his shoe.  "Yes."

"Good.  I wanted to be sure we were on the same page.  I wouldn't want to see innocent people charged any more than you."  It was amazing how the lies came easier with practice.  He even believed himself.  Mostly.

"Show me what you have then."

Barrett began pulling up all of the information they had 'gathered' on the five detainees, giving Gillespie explanations on each piece as he showed him the myriad documents and reams of evidence they had ‘uncovered’.

Throughout the two hour long session, Gillespie shot him question after question, raising Barrett's irritation to a level that almost caused him to miss the fact that as each question was answered, Gillespie's mood evened out a little more.  By the time Barrett had finished, Gillespie was almost smiling.

Rising from his seat, the senator offered Barrett a drink and, though it was only ten in the morning, he gladly accepted.  As the senator poured he asked exactly what Barrett had hoped he would ask. 

"So what do we do next?"

Hesitating only long enough to make it less obvious that he'd been anxious to answer this question, Barrett replied with, "I think it's time we move to the next phase, sir."

"Meaning?"

"Send them to federal prison to await trial."

Gillespie walked over and handed Barrett his drink.  "So you think you have everything you need?"

"Yes, sir.  And, with all of the attention the hacker community is gaining, I think it would be best if we get the evidence out there as quickly as possible to shut them down."

Gillespie took a long drink and then smiled.  "It's finally happening.  After all our hard work."

Barrett's lips tightened as he stopped himself from saying,
you mean my hard work.  You've done nothing but talk.

The senator didn't notice as he reached for the phone.  "I'll schedule another press conference in three days.  That should give you enough time to get them processed?"

Not waiting for an answer, Gillespie began speaking to the person on the other end of the line, his voice cheerful as he relayed exactly what he wanted to do and when.  Barrett only half listened as Gillespie finished, hanging up and dialing someone else. 

It didn't matter what he said anyway.  The senator sounded happy, which meant he might actually leave Barrett alone to finish all of
his
hard work. Excusing himself, he left the senator chatting animatedly on the phone with one of his cronies, and headed to the airport.  He had a doctor to deal with.