Welcome again! Here are the legal statements. If you are not yet old enough or if it is not legal to read this type of material where you live, please leave now. If the subject of homosexual relations offends you please read no further. The following story is a work of fiction and with the exception of Andy and the brief mention of Terry, all persons in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living, dead or not yet born are completely accidental and unintentional.
The Author reserves all rights. copyright 2000 The Author is Andrew Simon van Ryan. Email me at Zlatazobo@aol.com
Visit me at my web page http://hometown.aol.com/zlatazobo/myhomepage/profile.html
Where no one owns the Rain....
By Andrew Simon van Ryan
Copyright 2000. All Rights Reserved
Part Seventeen * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Child of the House of Commons
Sir Winston Churchill : (December 26, 1941) "I am a child of the House of Commons. I was brought up in my father's house to believe in democracy. Trust the people - that was his message....I cannot help reflecting that if my father had been American and my mother British, instead of the other way around, I might have go here on my own....I owe my advancement entirely to the House of Commons, whose servant I am. In my country, as in yours, public men are proud to be the servants of the State and would be ashamed to be its masters." [From a speech made to a Joint Session of the American Congress, December 26, 1941. Churchill went to America after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. He predicted a "long and hard war." This speech was broadcast throughout the US, Canada and Britain.]
Our flight was called and we headed toward the boarding gate. As each individual passed through the airport security metal detectors archway, a tiny device hidden in the crosspiece at the top of the arch focused on their left eye. It scanned the Iris of every person and sent the scan data to a waiting que in the FBI's Travel Surveillance Department. Nearly everyone had a scan on file, but only those who'd been arrested in the past set off an alert. When my Iris scan was finally processed, our flight from Miami to Washington National had already been in the air for nearly an hour. My name suddenly flashed in a red box on a computer screen in the TSD office. The FBI agent sitting at the terminal screen studied my name, then hit the enter key to pull up my file. The entire screen flashed red and the word box in the center flashed a statement to the now excited agent:
TERRORIST ALERT it proclaimed in large letters. He snapped three strokes on the keyboard and my file opened. He read my Relocation order and the 'escaped from detention at sea' report, but what really got him excited was the outstanding Federal Arrest Warrant by Executive Order. When the DatManDead files had first been detected in the governments computer systems, Connor had become enraged, knowing I was alive and using my book as the outline for a plan of attack. His reaction was to sign a Presidential Executive Order authorizing my arrest as a Terrorist plotting the overthrow of the US government. The most wanted man on the FBI's top ten list was me, a twenty four year old homosexual writer. What was so twisted in Conners mind that caused him to focus so much attention on a young writer's words? Simply put, I had seen the man for what he was, despite the facade he'd worn in public. I had pointed out what I perceived his intentions to be long before the elections. After hearing what I had written about him, Conner panicked. I had been much too accurate in my assessment of his plot. I revealed his evil and that scared him.
The Razorfish made its way toward the mouth of the Potomac, moving stealthily through the darkened waters.
In Arkansas, a military task force spotted the second semi. An MP vehicle with flashing police lights pulled the driver over. Inside the trailer the group leader repeated the instructions. "If it's the Military, we surrender." The Big rig came to a halt and before the driver could open his door and exit, three large transports pulled along side. The canvas covering the backs of the transports was pulled up on the side facing the trailer. This revealed the 50 caliber machine guns mounted in each truck just as they opened fire, shredding the thin metal of the trailer walls and turning the young men inside into a bloody heap of flesh. The guns fired continuously for nearly two minutes. When the firing stopped, the officer in charge shouted orders to another group of his men.
"OK. Torch it."
They pointed a flame thrower at what remained of the semi. Engulfed in only a few seconds the trailer became a funeral pyre, sending smoke and hot ash swirling up in the night time sky toward Heaven.
In London, Zeke had given a letter from his Father to the Prime Minister, who in turn called the Secretary General of the EU. It was agreed to let Ezekiel address the Assembled Members before the vote at 8:00AM GMT. As Zeke left Number Ten Downing Street, the Prime Minister shook his hand.
"May God guide your friends. I hope they succeed." He remarked.
Zeke's driver headed back to Heathrow. Ezekiel lay down in the back seat to rest before boarding the short flight to Brussels, Belgium. As he closed his eyes, Zeke shuddered thinking of what the Prime Minister had told him. Using satellite imaging and information gathered with the Echelon system, British MI-6 had estimated over 38 million people had been executed with chemical and biological agents in just a few short days. Conners master plan called for the elimination of nearly 120 million.
Additionally, the Combined European Defense had estimated a war with the United States would result in over a billion casualties.
Noah and Gabriel were watching the messages being sent and received from the White House. They smiled at each other when they saw the message sent to cut the power grid to Central Washington. They knew Samuel had done his job and that Conners men had intercepted it. They read the command line of the DatManDead program directing the power to be cut at 12:00 midnight EST (5:00GMT). They were setting up their 'decoy,' still not realizing ours was in fact a 'decoy' for them.
It was nearly 2:00AM EST when Noah jumped out of his seat and began shouting. "NO, NO, NO!"
Gabriel sprang from his seat and studied the decoded message on the computer screen.
It read "ALL POINTS BULLETIN. To Security at Washington National Airport. Andrew Simon van Ryan, #1 fugitive wanted by the FBI has been identified by Iris scan and is now aboard Flight #317 from Miami, FLA. Arriving at Washington National at 2:10 EST (7:10 GMT). President Joshua Conner has ordered Mr. van Ryan be allowed to leave the aircraft and then be captured ALIVE. He is to be brought by helicopter to the White House. REPEATING: He is to be captured ALIVE. Make ready for the arrival of Marine Corps One at the Security Helipad at Washington National ASAP."
"What do we do now?" Noah cried.
"Only one thing to do." Gabriel said calmly. "Call Andy."
Zeke was driven from the Airport straight to the EU Headquarters building in Brussels. After a short meeting with the Secretary General, he was shown to a room behind the Grand Hall where he could freshen up and prepare for the speech. After changing into the suit Danny had loaned him, Ezekiel sat down to nervously wait.
In Washington, the White House and it's surrounding area were in darkness as Conner stood in the Oval Office watching and waiting. The hidden military forces were waiting in the darkness as well, thinking at any second the invading DatManDead 'army' would appear. They had been waiting since midnight. They continued to wait after the message concerning the fate of the second semi was received. They continued to wait after word of my presence on the flight from Miami was received.
Conner turned to the four men standing with him.
"I think they've chickened out. We caught two of their trucks and the rest ran away. Real Brave!" He laughed. "Andy van Ryan's been deserted by his followers. I can't wait to spit in that little queers face and laugh at him."
In the dark night of the Belizean Jungle, Samuel put his arm around Isiah.
"It's going to be OK, Izzy. Please don't cry."
"I love you, Sammy." Isiah sniffled. He curled up in Samuel's arms and put his head against the other boys chest. Soon, both had drifted off to sleep.