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Infectis – Chapter ?

Three years ago

“We have a quorum.”

“Bu—”

“We were all invited. Some decided not to come, most likely due to who invented them. Others are picking sides or waiting to see which way the wind is blowing. Their loss.

“The question on the table is, do we enact the plan in case of an…election error?”

“What? If he’s compromised by…what?”

“A madman. Or, say, a foreign power.”

“A f… I suppose I’d have to say yes to that.”

There was a pause as it began to sink in. Another spoke up, one who usually said nothing at all at such meetings.

“And who decides what constitutes significance of the threat? And what if a candidate is set up?”

There was another pause as the group’s chairman, a decorated high ranking officer smiled.

“It falls to us, gentlemen.”

He paused again.

“And that is precisely what we are going to do. And then, with this plan, maintain continuity. The only fair answer is, the ‘previous one.’ We cannot be involved in selecting who gets the Big Chair. There’s already been too much of that. That’s why it’s just us, and not the rest.”

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Infectis – Chapter ?

To: Condor

From: Regis

Subject: Populace Demoralization Program

Release of animal-affecting virii approved. Determination of precise patient zero coords forthcoming. Prepare to un-ass.

{Proof of Identity Follows – See GAL Guide for instructions on identity verification.}

Minisaga 2

“You’re in big trouble.”

“Big trouble.”

He’d been corralled by Internal Security. These two weren’t.

“We don’t want you to stop leaking to that rag. We want you to leak this.”

On the paper was the name of the Station Chief in Greece.

What choice was there? It was blackmail.

Minisaga 1

“Have you ever been a member of the Communist Party?”

“No, Senator.”

“Have you ever been a communist?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Please explain.”

“I once bought two cheeseburgers at McDonalds. When I went outside, there was a homeless woman. I gave her one and she didn’t pay me for it.”

Infectis – Chapter ?

Give it to you one time, now.

—-

Parker glanced out the window at the car driving away. He finished his iced tea and turned to see where the waitress was to see about a refill.

She wasn’t there. He turned his eyes to the right to see through the order window to the kitchen area and didn’t see any cooks or busboys either.

He looked back out the front window, his brows furrowing.

“You realize that there’s no one h—-“

Suddenly, he slammed Brian to his left with his left hand. In his right hand, was a knife. Blood trickled down where the force of the blade cut his fingers and the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger.

Brian started, “Dude! What the f—-.”

He stopped before finishing and stared at the knife and fist right where he had been sitting before. He turned and looked at the man who had just thrown it, wide-eyed.

Felinov reached inside his jacket again and then the left side of jaw exploded without warning. The tinkling of glass from his immediate right seemed to come after the red spray and coincide with his dropping to the ground.

Parker was up, moving, and looking in all directions out the window. Now it was Brian’s turn to attack, as he tackled Parker and brought him down. The knife, which Parker had switched to the other, still good hand, clattered across the floor.

“Down,” Brian said, still holding on and laying on top of him. “There’s a swarm of mercs out there, armed to—“

Brian wasn’t able to finish. Parker was about to say something smart-alecky about their current position when all hell broke loose. Glass was shattering, things on the counter were exploding and flying in every direction, lights were going out, as a rain of bullets came flying in.

There was the sound of an explosion, possibly two or three, outside, and the metal rain stopped briefly.

They headed toward the back, to the kitchen. They were unable to see what was happening outside in the front due to huge clouds of smoke. Back seemed the only way to go.

Parker grabbed a towel and wrapped his hand in it. They paused at the back door to the kitchen. There was a pushbar holding it shut from the outside. Parker pushed and peered out. He slowly and quietly expanded his range of view. There was a black SUV with tinted windows just 50 yards away.

Parker turned to Brian to suggest they head over there for cover. He hoped Brian would be able to get them in and hotwire it.

Brian was looking at him strange so instead he just said “what?” with a look.

“How…how did you…?”

He was looking at the hand-wrapped towel, referring to catching the knife.

“I have…no…f***ing idea. We should go,” Parker pointed at the SUV.

Brian nodded and took off. Parker was right behind him. He could here gunshots echoing throughout the parking lot. It sounded like there were multiple groups.

Whatever had been planned, it had gone horribly awry. Brian was trying all the doors.

Parker looked under the vehicle for some reason. He saw the keys. He had to climb partly underneath to get them.

“Hey, look what I…”

Though his brain hasn’t entirely caught up and he couldn’t put it yet into words, he instinctively knew why Brian was leaning against the side and making the face he was.

“C’mon. I gotta get you out of here,” he told Brian. Parker could see the black liquid staining Brian’s stomach and jeans below.

“Don’t think I should move,” Brian grunted out. “Losing blood too quick.”

“You’re an asshole and you can’t stay here. So get the f*** inside.”

“You tell Maya…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’ll tell her yourself. Now. Get. In.”

Parker opened the rear driver side door. Brian slid to the ground as his legs gave out. Parker kneeled down. The blood wasn’t just black looking because it was dark out. It was dark in color.

Kidney? Or Liver? Never can remember…

“You know,” Brian shared, “I think you might actually have a point…”

And he died.

Parker heard them faintly, but the sound and what it meant wasn’t registering on any level of consciousness. He laid Brian down and slid him away from the vehicle.

He shut the back door and climbed in the driver’s seat. For some reason he looked out the window up at the sky as he started the truck up.

It was an act that wasn’t helpful at all. The sky was too dark and whatever shark-shaped jet-propelled things were flying around up there weren’t at all visible. But at least he realized now what the buzzing or humming had meant.

He also surmised that these were not surveillance drones. Almost certainly the other kind.

He wondered how in the hell you were supposed to out-drive those.

Infectis – Chapter ?

“Saw my wife. We were eating at Denny’s of all places.”

Brian smiled before he continued, “My kid’s just like me.”

Parker laughed.

“He has his mother’s nose, but looks like me otherwise. Acts like me.

“He said if I didn’t make a move on Maya, he was going to come down and do it. Because he wants those ta-tas.”

Brian took another drink. Parker just listened from across the table. The Denny’s they were in, which sat between the north and southbound sides of the interstate, was mostly otherwise empty.

Parker had met Maya as well. He had noticed the chemistry between her and Brian, but kept his mouth shut about it most of the time because he knew of Brian’s self-destructive streak and contrarian ways.

Best to leave it alone and let them sort it out, had been his thought on the subject. Of course now they were pretty far from her and Arizona.

“Just like me, the kid. It was nice. Was the first time I’ve had a dream about them…that wasn’t a nightmare.”

******

Andreyev Felinov had at one time been an Olympic champion. Winner of seven gold medals and dozens of silver and scores of bronze, under the old Soviet system he had been known in Poland, Georgia, Latvia and elsewhere as “the Great Throwdini.”

Today, someone else held that title. Felinov had defected to British intelligence in 1985. Since then, after several months in various Scottish safehouses, which he referred to as his Loch Ness vacation, he had become a contractor.

He had at times killed for Mother Russia. Now, he killed for the highest bidder.

Felinov, traveling now under the name Cliff Robinson, sat quietly and waited until the last—or nearly last—customer left the restaurant and drove off to the north. He knew there wouldn’t be any more customers coming in. The routes in and out were blocked.

Someone else had called in the chemical spill scare. He had seen the staff of the restaurant leave quietly a few at a time out the back. Whatever they had been told ensured that they neither panicked nor said anything to the remaining customers.

Felinov’s prey seemed not to notice, even as one of them looked out the window and watched the last customer, apart from the three of them, drive away.

Though he had gotten older, Felinov/Robinson still practiced every day and had had corrective laser eye surgery to keep up with what Mother Nature attempted to take away.

He stood and moved to the register. His hand went inside his jacket and with a swift, smooth move of his right hand, the knife, and flat piece of metal every bit as decisive and deadly as any bullet when flowing from his hand, flew unerringly towards the back and the arterial/heart region of the smaller man at the table.

It would be over soon. The deaths would be blamed on a knifing, a mugging gone wrong. Felinov would collect the rest of the contract money. He was considering retiring soon, but hadn’t yet decided where he would do so.

Infectis – Chapter ?

To try when your arms are too weary.

“Let’s see, that covers Assange, Snowden, Brown, all the Hammondses, Winner, Lauri Love…

“Oh! Also, besides having all his legal fees paid, Brown should be sent free preview copies of all new console games. As recompense.

“Now on to the organizations… The Asian Dawn movement…wait, they’re like Nazis, right? Yeah, f*** them. Um. But leave BLM alone. Enough already.

“You still there, Johnson?”

Parker had stumbled around long enough. He was fairly certain that Special Agent Johnson—whom Parker had told that he had wanted to speak to the “other one,” resulting in a long pause; apparently FBI wasn’t as familiar with films as one might think—knew that he was full of shit and at this point was stalling.

Guess I won’t have time to get the requirement for CIA, NSA, and FBI to watch Silenced and Internet’s Own Boy in there.

Of course, Parker had made certain the he reiterated to Johnson that he had a bomb to slow them down.

“The device” was comprised of a bunch of road flares, duct tape, and wires. He had had to improvise and buy some things that wouldn’t raise any red flags with FBI and Homeland Security. He only bought a few at each of different auto stores and paid cash each time as well.

“Yeah…we’re working on all that,” came the reply from the other end of the phone.

Yeah, I’m sure Cain will get right on all that.

It was a blatant lie. And the woman sounded distracted by something else.

Parker had intended to stay inside and talk on the lobby phone to her until they came in for him, but decided they were less than a few minutes from sending in SWAT. He also knew no matter what happened, the point would be to silence him and the whistleblower as soon as possible.

He also knew that she probably didn’t have anything proving who her employer was. He hoped she think of something… something related she could use to prove it. There was going to be a lot she-said, he-said.

And how much more unbelievable would it be that she had entered CIA a male and, now on burn notice, left it a female? He imagined the mainstream media attempting to change the subject over and over again, ignoring the extremely illegal things that CIA had been up to.

Not only illegal, but bad for the country. And the world. It was disgusting how so many major news outlets celebrated more war and resulting deaths by parroting whatever they were told.

So it was then he realized it was now or never. He took off the fake bomb and placed it on the lobby tile. He had taken pictures of it, proving it was fake, and saved them in a draft tweet. He opened it and pressed the send button.

It took a very long time to send. Probably, FBI was using a Stingray system to monitor all internet and phone activity. It might appear as if it were sent and actually have been trapped on their computer, and a fake sent confirmation returned back to him.

He laid the unloaded pistol on the tile a few feet from the flares. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed the doors to exit.

He shouted he was coming out.

There was a quick pop and a spray coming from his head as he fell backward on the sidewalk.

******