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Authors: Vincent Heck

Last War (31 page)

BOOK: Last War
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A former C.I.A. agent stood before the group of people who hung in suspense to his riveting stories. He agonized through reliving the feelings of fear and disappointment.

    
To the group of truthers before him, the agent’s words packed a punch. His sentences stunned. His message stood as tall, and held the weight of a 2000ft skyscraper. His words were undeniable—it was
certain fact
that the government had not told the American people everything – at times, it had seemed, to him, as if government didn’t even know everything, themselves.

    
He spoke like a confused man looking for answers while somehow doing so with authority. He highlighted, in great detail, his vivid account of notifying various people in multiple agencies of his prior 9/11 intel.  By his account, no one listened. They brushed him off, and even made a motion to have him removed from the agency.

    
He had spoken to the Secretary of Defense on numerous occasions; he was in contact with the coordinator of the F.B.I. everyday. He had knowledge of known terrorists with al-Qaeda staying in the U.S., learning to fly planes.

    
Still, it seemed, his pleas would fall on deaf ears.

    
He knew even in the administrations before, that this was a growing concern. But, the new administration refused to look at the increasing signs. The tragedy blew his mind—and afterwards, he began to question it all.

     After his story, t
he man fielded questions from the group of people; anywhere from, “What is your theory of what happened on 9/11 from your perspective?” to “Do you feel you’ve played a part in the tragic events on that day?”

    
A deluge of emotion surged through the man as he gave his response each genuine sentiment at a time.

    
Then he was finished.

     Jason knew, despite the man’s keen awareness that things weren’t adding up, the man still had no clue.

    
Czyra stepped onto the stage and looked out into the crowd.

    
“Well, there ya have it, folks. Another one. Another agent kept in the dark for the ‘betterment of the people.’ Then over 3000 people died. What has come of that ‘betterment’ since? That’s one of the many questions we have here at the Truth Movement.”

    
Czyra’s eyes moved along the crowd as he conjured up a conclusion for the meeting. Before he could make a full swipe from left to right with his eyes, he caught sight of Jason standing in the back of the room. Jason’s shoulder was leaned up against the inside of the door frame.

     Czyra’s conclusion
braking off caused the people in the meeting to crank their necks to the rear of the auditorium.

    
“I’m sorry, folks.” Czyra said giving another boost into his voice. “Our second guest speaker has arrived – I didn’t think he’d show. Um, if you can stay for this, it will definitely be worth your while. I spent some time with this man three years ago, and it was nothing short of amazing. I’m just going to let him introduce himself and say what he needs to say.”

    
Jason made his way through the crowd to the stage podium meeting Czyra with an embrace.

     “I’m still trying.” Czyra said. “There’s too much going on.
Just to let you know, I’m recording this for Web Tube.”

     Jason only smiled and
half-nodded.

     Taking off his small jacket
, he hung it over a rail on the steps up to the stage.

    
Jason looked out into the sea of people, already hanging onto his very presence.  He felt the magnetic dizziness again. He had tried Tameka’s memory chip on the train ride down, and it flashed a peculiar memory of knocking on Tameka’s door.

     Jason
broke into speech belting out his first sentence.

     “You have no clue what you’re up against.”

     The room was so quiet that a cleared throat from the bathroom in the back echoed and died into the flat air of the auditorium.

     “If you were battling only the
American folks in D.C., that’d be one thing. But, you’re battling thugs – international thugs – the worst thugs you could possibly imagine. You’re battling thugs who are so powerful, and so well-trained, that if you knew who they were, and what they did, it’d, no doubt, either make you religious or hopeless.”

     “Who are they?”
one man shouted from the crowd.

     “They’re what the mainstream public may refe
r to as ‘Illuminati.’ But, the Illuminati the public tells you about would be the least of your issue compared to who we’re actually up against.” His thoughts and memories were clearing up. He didn’t know whether they were actual memories, or artificial ones. Either way, he knew what he was saying was true. So, he kept talking.

     “
Truth is, this
real group
pulling the strings have a much more diverse dynamic.” Jason walked over to his jacket and pulled out his government credentials. “One that’s much more staticky and obscured than this mythical ‘illuminati’ that pop culture has fawned over. One that’s going to take a discreet, concerted effort to get to the bottom of. I’ve fought in wars next to these guys on behalf of the United States of America. I grew up with their families. I went to college with them, I worked in the NSA and DHS around them… I was brought into a secret society of about 800 others – old and young – and I’ve sworn to not tell you what I’m about to tell you. In fact, we all have – all 800. Our roots go back to our ancient family. These groups began their journeys before America was ever established. But, they didn’t gain power overnight. No, in fact, a lot of them fizzled and died. They’re like secret hybrids of political and cooperate power – politics of the future, if you will. A future that is now. They speak the same language, they have similar goals, and they’re much more in control than the earth’s buildings that house the visible kings of the earth. To this day, it has narrowed down to three different parties: the CFR, The Megiddos, and the Brendenhalls being the strongest of the three. That’s the one I was associated with. The Brendenhalls, well, we’re just rich. We can literally get anything we want with money. Takes a bit of strategy, though. Hence our meetings with the people that matter. Your government. “

     A man from the crowd yell, “But, we know that.”

     “But, who you don’t know are the Megiddos. The Megiddos, are our rivals and partners all at the same time. We wouldn’t deal much with them, if they weren’t clinically diagnosed criminal psychopaths. Throughout history, they’ve killed some of the biggest names we know who decided to stand in their way. They’re masters in their own right of death, violence and torture. A great compliment to the Brendenhalls who are only money and power. Between the two powers, comes an agreeing and an executing of conspiracies. The Megiddos could be anyone in society. We don’t know, exactly, who. They never agree to meet in person. We only have suspects. What they do is strive, as early as preteens, to work their way up as high on the nation’s ladder as possible, and lift each other up along the way. Their goal is to see how many of their secret brothers can hold power positions all at a given time. Every year they anoint more members who have been trained from a young age until now, and by time anyone sees fit to battle, they’re already unstoppable. In public, Megiddos seek to gain as much power as possible, but in private what they consider their brothers come before any and everything. Including you folks. Even their immediate family – wife and kids fall second place behind their brotherhood.“

     Another shout from the crowd sounded from the silence. “This is ridiculous.” The incensed man shouted. “You expect me to believe we’ve allowed this as an American nation? This is something you think the great people of America would let happen?”

     “You had no say – none. You had no choice in the matter. You were born on firm principles already established by our predeceasing secret societies.” Jason pulled a badge with a freemason symbol on it. “My father passed this down to me, so that I’ll never forget… and I never have. Freemasons founded this country. And oddly enough, a good bit of them weren’t fond of religion. They were of the ‘enlightenment’ era, where they decided earthly logic trumped biblical faith.” Unhooking the microphone from the podium, Jason began to pace the stage racking his brain of all the training he had ever received growing up. Amazingly, these memories were his – but, new and familiar at the same time. “Freemasons were a 16
th
century secret society built around the ideology of fraternity, or pride, freedom, equality and liberty. A lot of them had a gift in masonry. They were precise and paid the most homage to the science of geometry. In fact, if you were to be able to look from a bird’s eye view you’d see the way Freemason first POTUS, George Washington designed the foundation of the city. Washington D.C. was designed as a perfect square. The city’s corners are still marked by the stones the masons used.”

     “Why isn’t it a square today?”

     “That’s a whole different story. The city was cut in half at the Potomac River, due to a slavery disagreement later in history between Maryland and Virginia.” Jason said. “But, let’s not get off track.”

     Jason walked back to his podium and leaned against it. “You guys, listen up. I know this is a lot but trust me. I know my history.”

     “In the 14
th
century, in Germany, the Freemasons had been close to completely swallowed by a selfish, world dominating-visioned, break away denomination, by the name of the Order of Illuminati of Bavaria. That being said: sixteen percent of the signatures on the Declaration of Independence are Freemasons, a third of the Constitution’s signatures are Freemasons, and a third of the governors of the original colonies were Freemasons. I think it’s safe to say, as evidenced by our dollar bill, our Capitol design, and most of the things our beloved forefathers presided over, that a good bit of those revered men were members of that Illuminati/Freemason amalgamated movement. The question is: has that tradition or ideology survived into today’s societies?”

     Stark silence and stillness
remained over the entire crowd as no one had a rebuttal this time.

    
Jason continued, “The principles in which you’ve developed as an American, have always been determined by a secret society. From day number one. You, the people, never stood a chance. But, what I need your help in doing now, is getting to the bottom of this current day mess. We can do it together. Let’s ban together and create America’s next real revolution; just us as an army. Time’s running out, and we need to get to the bottom of this all -- we, the people.”             

     The initial non-believer spoke up, again. “And how are we going to do that? How would you suggest we stand up to two crazed powerful secret groups like that?”

     “I’m thinking we’ve gotta pin these modern day groups against each other. I’m going to need your dedication. The most serious people will need to meet here, almost, everyday. “

     “What are we gonna do?”

     “I’ll figure it out. For now, I’ll work up as much as I can from memory. Thanks for listening to me, folks. Go home and think about this seriously. I’m here to take action. I’m going to do it with or without you. So, let me know where you stand.”

     Jason’s brain wondered off into a deep hole in his cerebral cortex.
He handed the stage back to Czyra.

    
With Megiddo, it would be easy to upset them. They have quick tempers, and distrust. He’d just have to figure out what he would need to put into play. The Brendenhalls were more like chess players. You had to keep your eye on them – they’re slick.

     Czyra stepped back onto stage. “What a great session, tonight, huh? This is the beginning of something special. A new war. Hopefully, the last. We’ve got a lot to think about
, truthers. Side note: As many of you know, I was detained for a few weeks and we missed a few sessions. But, we’re back online, and we’re online with a bang. They couldn’t get anything out of us. But, we know – we have proof, because we were there – that the government uses conspiracy to violate our rights. They can’t make us do anything that violates our freedom, so in such a case, they use conspiracy. Anyone that tells you we’re crazy because of our noticing that, are not Americans. They’re sheeple. Anyway, we’ll meet again this time next week. Same day. I’ll announce our guest speaker on the website.”

    
Jason strolled up to the front of the room where Czyra met him just at the bottom of the stage.

    
“Hey, man. Didn’t think you’d show.” Czyra said.

    
“I had to stop in and see how business is treatin’ ya.”

    
“The business is the perk behind this. You know I’m doing this to get to the bottom of things. They took Jasmine and Dany. The business protects me and allows me to devote a lot of time to righting the wrongs. I’ve become so known by the truth movement the Unknowns and others, that the government can’t get to me quietly. Without erupting more conspiracies.”

    
“Is that how it works?” Jason laughed. “You’ve still got your unique reasoning, I see.”

    
“Meh, I suppose it will never go anywhere.” Czyra answered. “So, what have you been up to?”

    
“Really, I’ve been laying very low. Staying off the radar.”

    
“Yeah right. You may be laying low, but you’re certainly not off the radar. You know that.” They both took a seat in the auditorium’s front row seats. Czyra continued, “Man, things are getting crazy out here. You think that Super Bowl attack was false flag?”

    
“I’m not really sure, Czy. But, yeah, I know. Things are getting a bit out of whack. Something is changing, that’s for sure. I’ve followed along with what you’ve been saying in your online lectures.”

    
“It goes beyond that, bro. My next set of bombshell materials I’m researching now could blow the lid off of all of this. It’s crazy, man.”

    
“Like, what?” Jason asked.

    
“What are you doing tonight? You should come with me.”

    
“Where?”

    
“D.C. There’s some underground mess going on, brotha.”

    
“Alright. What time?”

    
“I’m leaving right after this.”

 

 

Arlington, VA

     Jason sat on the passenger side of Czyra’s gray small car. Jason moved his feet uncomfortably in the junk that sat on the floor. The inside of the car smelled like old French fries and flat beer.

    
It was late evening – very dark. The two men had been sitting in the car on a backwoods road for 40 minutes.

    
“Soo, what are we waiting on?” Jason asked.

    
“You’ll see. You recognize that house in front of us?”

    
“No. I don’t.”

    
“It belongs to Congressman, Boris Reynolds.”

    
The men went silent as Czyra put down the windows a bit to the creaking sound of crickets in the grass. A car rolling over gravel approached within earshot before driving into the driveway.

    
“Who’s that?” Jason asked.

    
“Congresswoman Deloris Winderman.”

    
“So, what’s going on?”

    
“Just sit here and wait.”

    
Czyra pulled out a small transistor radio.

    
“Where’d you get that? Is the place tapped?”

    
Czyra only smirked towards Jason.

    
From the small portable radio, sounds of a doorbell followed by a meet and greet piped through. 

    
“How’d you manage—I mean… how’d you get this done?”

    
“Sometimes you’ve gotta risk it. Someone taught me that. Can’t remember who.” Czyra smiled.

    
“Alright. You’ve got cajones, son. Turn it up. I can’t hear.”

    
More tire against gravel rolled up the road. Sounded like a gang of cars, this time.

    
“Can’t be the president. Has to be the Brendenhalls.”

    
As the dozens of headlights approached, they all pulled into the property gates and up the driveway.

    
“Looks like we’ve got both parties, tonight. The donkey and the elephants.”

    
“What are we about to hear?”

    
“Who knows. But, these are the meetings that where most is said.”

     “I’ve been to a few of those in my day, I think.”

     “No. You may have been to the Brendenhall meetings… but, if you’ve been to these… you’re probably a bad guy.”

     “What?”

     “It’s real murky stuff. Like, this is the dirty work behind the Brendenhall meetings. If they want to kill Kennedy, this is where it’s discussed and buried.”

     “What are some of the worst things you’ve heard
here.”

     “I think what we’re about to see will be the worst. I think Mr. Brendenhall, himself, may be the next to die.”

     “By his own people?”

     “Hence the secret meeting aside from the already secret
meeting.”

    
Jason chuckled. “Seems a bit complicated, wouldn’t you say? Sounds like a cheesy spy film.”

    
“After that speech you gave earlier, your not knowing what this is catches me a bit off guard.” Czyra laughed.

     “Well, I know history, and I can remember only bits and pieces from now. My short term memory isn’t very good right now.”

     “Well, these men are all insanely intelligent. It’s actually kinda cool to watch, sometimes. It’s one huge power struggle on so many levels. The thing you have to realize is, one: this is a small group of men. They’ve all contained the ability to build small empires within their industry. When that group of men—from all over the world—get together and decide they’re going to build one combined empire, the stakes run high. They’re sharp. They cover their butts, and they orchestrate and manipulate on a large magnitude all the way down to the smallest of micromanaging. Nothing is smooth, but there’s always a result – and in the end, whatever the result, it’s never the people who have any say.”

    
The small radio kicked in and out of static.

    
“I might have to go fix a connection. I’ll be back.” Czyra said.

    
“Wait. What?”

    
“A connection is off. I’ll be back. Stay put.”

    
Czyra jumped out of the car. He approached the gate. As usual, when dealing with this particular property, he checked the monitor to see if the gate was actually locked. So many times he went through all the trouble to hack his way in, when the gate hadn’t been secured in the first place.

    
So as to not draw any attention to these sub-meetings, they weren’t heavily guarded. He could snoop around the property as much as he wanted and they never knew he was aware these meetings existed.

    
The gate was secure—so Czyra had to perform the nerve-racking task of getting into the gate without alerting the men. He had done it three times before. One of the times he should have been caught, but after not finding him, they attributed the disruption to an animal breach.

    
Czyra pulled out his laser pointer, and shined it into a sensor attached to a stone pillar. After that, he entered something on the keypad while keeping the laser shined in the sensor. Carefully, he disengaged the gate with his right hand, tugging the gate slightly open only enough to slip through, while, still, aiming the laser into the sensor. After closing the gate, he put the laser back into his pocket. He looked back at Jason and winked a proud grin.

    
The yard around the large rural house was covered by trees. The house wasn’t visible from the road, and running up the long driveway was the most uncomfortable part of his sneaking in; the thought always crossed his mind that if this congressman ever bought a dog he’d be screwed. He rushed towards the side of the mansion where a small box he inserted in the dirt was located. The dirt was compacted pretty tightly. Czyra had to put more weight than usual on his small trowel.

    
With a small flashlight in his mouth, he sculpted out the area where the box’s opening latch was.

     
Around the corner, the sound of the mansion’s front door latching raised the hair on his arms. Quickly, he scrambled to shut off the flashlight and tuck away. There were two voices that echoed a bit louder as the men walked closer to his side of the house.

    
Czyra sat down flat up against the house on the ground. The men emerged from behind the corner of the house. He could see their faces clearly. Two members of the Brendenhall Group. The chairman, and the deputy.

    
“Any word on him?” the chairman asked.

    
“Haven’t heard from him yet. He should be in town, right now. This was about the timetable we were thinking of.”

    
“Do you think we should proceed? We have a lot of stuff going on. We have the Olympics coming up, we have election this year; all of these things we have to get the folks ready. We need to know he’s doing
his
part.”

    
“The man is brilliant. Let’s just go with it. This is what we put him on the job for. We don’t have to worry about him. He’s reliable, and completely off the radar to everyone. Everything proceeds as planned. We knew there’d be a chance we didn’t hear back from him until it’s all said and done. Let’s just calm down, it’s all or nothing.”

    
“OK. What about the girl?“

    
“Just calm down.”

     The two looked,
seemingly, right at Czyra in a scan of the landscape.

    
“Beautiful place, isn’t it?” The chairman asked.

    
“Yeah. I don’t know how he does it on government salary.” The deputy said while his voice faded off into the distance.

BOOK: Last War
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