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(CCHWC)Operation Gatekeeper

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posted on Oct, 16 2009 @ 02:36 PM
Detective Schleshinger wrote detailed notes as the Police Academy hopeful spoke watching the man re-tell his story of a not so recent evade and elude with Law Enforcement in the next town South of where the college was where the detective was the head instructor.

Police Academy recruit : And as I spun the steering wheel tightly around a left-hand corner, I did a fast U-Turn watching the pursuing Officer in his Chevrolet Caprice sluice into the curb screaming loudly that he had spilled coffee in his lap over the intercom and all sorts of foul language ensued as he continued to pursue my pickup truck. I turned to the right and floored it to increase the distance between myself and the Police cruiser.

I shifted from third into fourth and fifth quickly, turned the next corner and flew through the side-streets quickly. The Police Officer never got within twenty feet of my truck, due to what I can only assume was either him being pissed off and not concentrating due to coffee burns on his lap, or that he was a rookie being on a side-street in the middle of nowhere was getting a favor from a local hooker and he was making up his cover story for why he was conducting a night time surveillance of a local street that had no traffic at that time of night.

Phone Rings : Detective Schleshinger here. I understand completely, I'll be right there. I am sorry Mr. Spartan, I will be right back.

John Spartan watched as Detective Schleshinger got up and left his desk to step out of the room and looks at the man's desk where he had been taking copious notes of the interchange of information knowing damn good and well that the Detective was pulling a ruse on him through a fake phone call from a compatriot to test and see whether we would try to sneak a look at the notes or anything else on the man's desk and possibly catch him in the act. John stood rock solid at what the military called the position of at ease with his hands crossed behind him and legs apart one foot in the perfect military stance, with eyes set straight forward not glancing at anything more than the calendar on the wall and the small two-way mirror. Detective Schleshinger entered apologizing for keeping the academy hopeful waiting and asked if there was anything more the man needed to let him know before going through the background check to go through Police Academy to which John Spartan declined and smiled.

As the potential recruit stepped out of his office the detective picked up the handset of the telephone and dialed a number he had memorized by heart.

Art? Yeah, I have the perfect candidate for your recruitment. The man who just left my office, named, John Spartan, fits the profile of a loner, family lives close by, some ex-military for both him and family, some family in the current military, other family in high echelon work. He fits the perfect classic profile of an assassin, and if he does not go into that role, we can push him into either becoming a puppet dictator down in South America or if push comes to shove, frame him in the usual set-up and link it back to our office as having found it in a secondary background check and that the information slipped through the cracks due to him hiding his past. Detective Tom Schleshinger listened intently for five minutes to the head of the Drug Enforcement Administration he had on the phone.

Detective Schleshinger nodded imperceptibly as he agreed with the man on the phone.

I see this as a matter that will take maybe a few months based on him bringing back the Police Academy paperwork and when we question him about the information contained within not adding up to what we will tell him we found, the trap will be set and he will either have to deal with us or we will prosecute based on information we put in there under the National Security Act. If he tries to play hardball we threaten to get the Security Clearances different family member have taken away. Once those clearances are threatened he should fold easily as a house of cards like his profile states since he's nothing more than a failure at all he has tried to do.

Detective Schleshinger thanked the man for his cooperation and after setting down the receiver of the telephone picked up a manila folder and wrote across the top of it in bold-faced letters : Operation Gatekeeper.


As John Spartan stepped out of the Police Academy building he knew he would never be going back to the facility due to the host of rumors he had heard for decades about the corruption within the county he lived in and how the Presidential Administration was soon changing from the criminal Bill Clinton that everyone seemed to love to as yet another unknown criminal named George W Bush, the son of one of the most vile men in history as the whole family was connected to the Nazi's through the banking firm Brown Brothers Harriman, John instinctively knew that the next four to eight years were either going to be the most boring politically or the most criminal in the history of the world due to the family connections of both the soon to be elected President Bush because he knew something most people did not. George Bush, and both his son's Dubya as he was often called and Jeb the Governor of Florida all had Secret Service details and that when three men had connections to the details of protective services it would be easier to set the election process against any man who ran against that family even if they were connected to the Pope himself.

John got into his vehicle and rode quickly home through surreptitious back roads to bypass the local speed traps he knew were always out because of the street gossip. Checking his e-mail John noticed that the e-mail serve had bounced back a sent message and that the error message was not consistent with the usual messages that came with e-mail server error's and the man knew that this meant he was under electronic surveillance and that the only reason for that could be his applying to Police Academy which had have red-flagged him because of his internet activities on the website called above top secret. As the man thought over his course of actions he considered what these people might try in order to get him to cooperate and smiled knowing not only was he better than them because he knew they were sloppy but as well he knew they would not send professionals but low-level men with recruits who would cut their teeth as the saying goes in order to break them into physical surveillance. He knew that they would enclose him through a black box operation intending to collect information upon him through e-mail, telephone, internet traffic, and collecting his mail through the use of several styles of deniability because they would want to close him off to the outside world in order to isolate him, use him, and or silence him through discrediting him as well as potentially killing him and making it look like suicide.

The thought crossed his mind though of would he go high-profile and make their lives miserable, or go low-profile and eliminate every single one of their operatives. John considered it for a moment or two knowing he had little to no choice knowing the men who would be coming were just following orders from corrupt Government officials and he would have to go the middle path of using both high-profile and low-profile and show them the error of their ways without crossing into criminal activity he would have to out-maneuver their men and show them just how stupid it was for men to stalk him illegally through the use of cut-outs, shadow games, and illicit activities. Having been stalked before he knew to never cross into counter-stalking these men because that would be just as bad as them but instead to use anti-stalker methods of shutting them down without hurting them in order to utilize their own actions against them, going the path of the higher individual instead of bowing to the lower mindset of violence and educate both these men and himself. John clicked on his internet browser and went to the number one bookstore online and clicked through several hundred dollars worth of books on intelligence agencies, covert intelligence, and Law Enforcement procedures because he knew in order to beat these men he would not only have to learn from them but in spite of them and re-create his own version of Quantico through delving into the study of everything that would literally both save his life as well as make these men quake in fear and not know how to handle him and only make him a better person who could never be stopped.

John thought out loud for a moment for the appropriate name for his own intelligence operation. This has to be an appropriate name both against them as well as a book title later. How about this one? Operation : No Place To Hide.

[edit on 16-10-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Oct, 16 2009 @ 09:50 PM
reply to post by SpartanKingLeonidas

I loved it SpartanKingLeonidas. The monster being the PTB that wield all the control. The rogue agent above and beyond their games waiting for a chance to take them down. Awesome. I see you put a little research into this. Or was this just a little taste of your common knowledge?

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 09:42 AM
D.E.A. Agent Arnold Swanson watched as his target left the apartment heading towards the vehicle designated as that recruitees one and only mode of transportation, watching for ways to get inside this man's head to know how to drive him towards one of their pre-arranged goals.

Agent Swanson : Target acquired. Seen leaving for work at precisely 10:55am and due at 11:00am, target lives within four blocks of work and does no before work routines that we can see.

Hanging up the cell phone after checking in with the other team member who he knew would pass along the message that the asset was in route, knowing today would test this other man's mettle against the operatives he had trained himself. The wager through the team was that this man would crack in a month due to his psyche profile analysis and he had a one hundred dollar wager the man would last for six months. The other team members laughed at their boss and set aside one hundred dollars each, because confidence was high that they could bend the target to their will through the use of covert operations training, intimidation, and the size of their team to drive this man in one direction or another to suit the teams needs.


John watched the man who was watching him and just smiled because his senses were on high alert and attentuated with the surrounding environment due to the flow of prana in the air it would not be difficult to pick out any of their operatives because they were far too sloppy for his liking, this would be too easy an exercise for him and he knew his patience would wear them down and grind against their very nature through his own profile assessment of just how they would do their jobs. Just a few weeks ago he had noticed the other two men who were watching him but were trying not to be noticed watching and he broke their team down rather quickly based upon these two and their amateur behavior along with the third team member watching him now. He knew that they were sent for a mission and a purpose but it would test his resolve to make them go away since he had no time for what he saw as mindless barbarians, men who only followed orders and did not know how to think for themselves.

Policy, procedure, and protocol was a part of John's life since his stepfather came into his life at the age of six, just thinking of a life lesson was enough to refresh his memory in how to deal with nuisances in order to ignore them, or confuse them easily. John considered himself the weapon and anything that he grabbed was in fact an extension of his own self and through that would only enhance his ability to survive. Turning the steering wheel quickly to the left, he watched as comically the man who had been watching tried to nonchalantly move to his vehicle to follow, and John stepped on the gas pedal just a little more to inconveniance the man.

John Spartan : I'm the kinda guy who likes to run around...I'm a wanderer,...I'm a wanderer

John sang to the oldies tune thinking about the next progression of his steps to eliminate these men through stepping up complete professionalism, dropping his needless adventurism, and going to total discipline mode. He gave this team, if they could be called that, three months to be totally bored out of their minds with nothing but regular routine movements to report to their bosses.


Swanson cursed himself for being so easily spotted as he noticed the target checking all of his surroundings through a means of surveillance discipline he had never seen in any man because even he was not that careful. Noticing how easily the target checked all of his mirrors and used a fluid movement almost like a robot that had turned human the D.E.A. Agent swore under his breath that the man was watching him watch him, almost as if it was a mirror of what the team was supposed to do and it completely creeped the man out that this thirty year old pizza delivery man may in fact be better than the team of ten men he had set in place. Picking up the phone Agent Swanson hit the number six on the pre-paid cell phone and listened to it ringing.

Unidentified Female : Yes? What is it, Agent Swanson?

Agent Swanson : Can you do another run through N.C.I.C. and the military databases on target number 2314321, please Christene?

Unidentified Female : Let me check for you. Is there something wrong with him, or are you getting one of your feelings again?

Agent Swanson : No. This guy, is just like he knows we're watching him. I have a strange feeling this guy has had counter-intelligence training.

Unidentified Female : You know you're beginning to sound more paranoid than those we target, right? I just ran a dual search and came up empty-handed, Agent Swanson. Your imagination is getting the better of you. I suggest you rotate one of your prospective subordinates into your slot and take the night off.

Agent Swanson said nothing as he hung up the phone but cursed under his breath at the rebuke from his superior knowing full well she might actually have a valid point. Instead of doing what was suggested of himself though he peeled off when he saw the fourth team member was being introduced to the target as a new employee. Agent Swanson watched as the target shook hands with his team member and turned the corner quickly as he headed to the local F.B.I. building to do a more thorough search through back channels in Washington D.C.


Allie : John, this is our new driver, Don Fielding. He started yesterday when you were off work. He was on the phones all day yesterday, so he knows nothing besides the phone orders. Show him the ropes and when the next delivery comes out it's yours, take Don with you on it and run him through the program.

John : Okay Allie. Don, come on I will give you the dime tour of the store. If you have any questions, feel free to ask, I am a trainer and as I say, the only stupid questions are the ones that were never asked. This is where we cut the pizzas, the ticket go above the table in this rail sliding them left to right. The table over there is where pizzas are made and I will show you that when one comes in. Behind us is the fry station for wings, be careful because the oil is hot, no fooling around in the kitchen because you never know when someone may be behind you and someone might get hurt.

Agent Fielding listened half attentively as he eyed the target who was going through inane banter about the job and how much it was like a home more than a job. He wondered why the Government thought this man was so perfect for the job and why they wanted total anonymity and deniability to get him on the team. As he was led by the target to the back of the store and directed to pick up a box and the man demonstrated how to fold the flat cardboard into a pizza box his mind raced through the protocols of what to say and what not to say. He looked at his watch and it had been forty-five minutes of the man asking him questions, sharing something from history called the Spartan's, and how he was a Spartan by life experience. Agent Fielding thought this guy was nuts because he spoke about the Government like it was some corporate structure of greed and corruption and not the country they lived in, and he knew instantly this man was indeed not a patriot but the perfect patsy for the upcoming event.

John : So, Don, which branch of the military were you in, for how long, and what rank did you make it to?

John smiled as the stunned look came to the man's face after he asked him those three interconnected questions and smiled inside as the man took two steps back.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : How the Hell did you know that?

John : Because, Don, there are only two cocky individuals walking around here with the kind of self-confidence you exude. And I'm the other cocky son-of-a-bitch.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : I was in the Army. I was a cook, and made it to Sergeant.

Don Fielding quickly lied knowing if he was not careful this man would blow his cover and as well the carefully crafted legend that the boss had made for him. He shifted nervously back and forth on his feet not taking his eyes off the target now to assess just what the man would do next. Afraid the man would totally blow the operation by mistake because there was no way he could have known that kind of information about him within forty-five minutes of conversation.

John : Right. A cook and in the Army. If you want to play it that way, go ahead. But I know an undercover Police Officer or undercover agent when I see one.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : How did you know I was ex-military? I never told you anything about me other than my family.

John : Your mannerisms suggest military, you have the physique of ex-Special Forces, and one other important factor.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : What's that?

John : Your reaction was a confirmation of my questions. Plus I had profiled you within five minutes of seeing you when I walked through the door.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : I don't know what you're talking about.

John : Uh huh. I'm sure you don't.

John ignored the man trying so badly to ignore that he had literally nailed him in a series of assessments that would have taken any other person days to figure out, knowing the real reason he had gotten the man so easily is because not only of what he stated but because the man reminded him of his stepfather. Albeit a rash amateur comparatively because his stepfather would never have reacted that way. He had the information he wanted from the man and saw him as useless as flotsam.

[edit on 17-10-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 09:47 AM

Originally posted by jackflap
reply to post by SpartanKingLeonidas

I loved it SpartanKingLeonidas. The monster being the PTB that wield all the control. The rogue agent above and beyond their games waiting for a chance to take them down. Awesome. I see you put a little research into this. Or was this just a little taste of your common knowledge?

jackflap, let's just say, I've done the research.

I learned a long time ago, to use experiences that have happened to me, and turn them into embarrassing lessons for others.

Research, common knowledge, or life lived to the edge of insanity.

Take your pick man.

Bet you start reading my regular threads more often though.

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 10:52 AM
Quite nice, I see this becoming a multi-post installment, perhaps?

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 11:38 AM
John watched the man he knew was an undercover operative as he scrubbed the floor harder than he had ever seen any worker other than himself back ten years prior when he was fresh out of Boot Camp and A.I.T. having been given an honorable discharge due to physical training failure. He knew back then that the military was no place for him due to his independent streak and nature to think individualistic both through knowing how to lead and not wanting to bother with going through hierarchy of leadership where he would have to kiss butt just to get ahead. Not knowing it then he would have been classed as a rogue agent because of his tendency towards self-isolation and extreme self-discipline of a mission to solve what others would call conspiracy theories but what he called unanswered questions with motive, means, and opportunity where the Government used deniability, intimidation, and throwing money at the problem as a solution.

What a waste of a perfectly good entity that could be benevolent and actually make the world a better and stronger place thought John, but instead the Government would rather kill off people like John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr, and put puppet dictators in power like Saddam Hussein, Hugo Chavez, and Manuel Noriega and play the part of benevolence through an ignorant game of hiding in the shadows the movements of the power elite and terrorizing their own citizens with fakery as bad congenitally to him as the huckster P.T. Barnum. It was sad to him that so many Government agencies would cooperate with the financial predatory practices of the banking industry but John knew like very few else that Harry Houdini had discovered back in his day that predators of the financial kind, called spiritualists, had infiltrated every single level of Government all the way up to and including the White House and that they utilized the very system of checks and balances as a means to fill their corporate master pockets.

John : Don, when you're done there a delivery will be coming out of the oven in three minutes.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Okay John. Do I need any extras?

John : Wash your hands and I will show you the ticket and where we are going.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : You got it, Chief.

John chuckled to himself knowing the man called him chief as a derogatory backhanded compliment as he knew as well the two other new employees he had introduced the undercover operative to had known them prior to this meeting because their repetitious behavior told him of familiarity with each other. He grabbed the delivery ticket and circled the section he wanted the man to pay attention to.

John : See the ticket? This area is the grid coordinate you will look for on the map. This area is what the pizza is and this area below that is where you will find extras. This is the phone number in case you get lost and cannot find the customer or if it is a gated community and the name is incorrect. Do you have a cell phone because if you don't you will either need to know the payphones in the area of it will be a good investment?

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : I have a cell phone, so I'm good there. Why would the name be incorrect on a ticket?

John : Because either the customer didn't get asked, they ordered online, or they are not in the system yet. Sometimes the phone girls forget that these addresses are gated communities.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Do the customers ever get mad that we can't find them?

John : Not often enough to bother worrying about. I usually catch the mistake because I'm an attention to detail person, and call before I leave the store. Usually I just tell them I am confirming their order and they are happy with that.

As John led the other man out to his car he yelled the standard call to let the manager know he was leaving, and directed the other man to yell the same thing.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Driver out!

John watched the body language of the other man and could tell he had no weapons on him because the uniform was too tight and restricting to not show it through the polo shirt and shorts. He knew he was safe from the harm of a weapon being used against him. After the undercover agent got in the passenger seat, John handed him the pizza delivery bag and walked around and got in his 1999 Ford Crown Victoria, fastening his seat-belt and asking the other man to do the same. Backing the vehicle out of the parking lot he drove behind the store and began taking a circuitous route to get to the main road.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Is there any reason you go this route?

John : It bypasses all the traffic lights. Getting to the delivery quicker through using your brains, less gas pedal, and short-cuts gets you back quicker for more deliveries.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Oh. I see. What's your favorite football team?

John : I don't watch sports. I'm too busy working and reading. I learned through reading history books that sports are a red herring meant as a distraction to keep people's attention focused elsewhere instead of on what the politician's were up to. I focus all the time on Washington D.C. and what wars they get us tangled up in.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : I like football, baseball, and basketball. Sports is my passion, everything about it is fun. The teamwork, the competing against another team, and winning is the only thing that makes me happy.

John : If you are not prepared to lose, you are not prepared to win. Facing the prospect of failure is the only way to see where you might fail and to know how to defeat yourself, first.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Say what?

John : Sun Tzu, the Art of War. Divide and Conquer. The war of the warrior.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Okay, Sun Who?

John : Sun Tzu. Ancient Chinese and Japanese is another of my fascinations. The way of the warrior, Samurai and ninja go hand in hand with military, Law Enforcement, and espionage.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : I don't know anything...

John : Excuse me, Don. See that car lot there?

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Yeah. What about it?

John : Notice the name of it? 5-0 Motors. There's a whorehouse behind it. The local Sheriff's, off-duty, of course, watch over it and the car lot is a shield.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Yeah right. Quit pulling my leg.

John : I am dead serious. There used to be a stereo store there until a fire mysteriously burned it down which was sitting in front of the whorehouse. My theory is that the stereo shop owner asked for more money and they did not like that so they burned his shop down. This county has been a central hub of corruption since before I moved here with my family when I was six.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Then why not tell someone? You could tell the Mayor, or City Council,...I don't get why...

John : Are you kidding me? Who the Hell can you tell when you know nearly everyone is in on the action? The Mayor? My big hairy behind. The man is an ex-convict who got elected and when he got found out for being an ex-convict which should have kept him from being elected to begin with, they threw him out of office. He went to New York and got the case from twenty years ago overthrown and his record cleared. Then, he ran for election again, and won. Know what he got caught doing?

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : No. What's that hotshot?

John : Smuggling an entire plane full of marijuana and the D.E.A. busted him. His name is Mazzioti and he's connected to the Mafia. If the Mafia knew he was working for the D.E.A. as an undercover operative running the city they would have him executed.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : I think you're full of crap. Where did you hear this crock from? Some nutcase or homeless guy tell you this story?

John : Half of the story was in the newspapers. The rest of it I put together reading between the lines, and based more of it on my back channels of information.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : On your what? Channels of information?!?! You sound like a spy of some kind. Is your name Bond?

John just watched the man sitting in the passenger seat as he laughed and made fun of him, remembering the different stories he had heard about the three different cities in the area where Law Enforcement was on the take, either through assisting the drug runners, running them as errand boys, or taking down their competition for the past twenty years. He knew the man sitting next to him was going to deny what he told him but that was okay, he had not told him to confirm it, he had instead told him to see how belligerently he would in fact deny it which was a confirmation of sorts that he was on the right track. Crooked politicians, crooked Police Officers, and crooked operative were something that a lot of people saw but none had ever had the balls to stand up to them like he did and as well they could never pay him off because they had no clue their every move was being watched.

The man who was [i[just a pizza man to most had resources of his own, a chain of informants who told him information in the most surreptitious of ways. Usually it was through the information that they gave to him through the use of innocuous language and asking innocent sounding questions. Sometimes it was through the way that they hid the real meaning of what was going on through using the wrong words to cover their mistakes but because John was a verbal and linguistic genius their use of certain words always led to the truth of the matter.

Law Enforcement was a monster...

[edit on 17-10-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 11:50 AM

Originally posted by Ahabstar
Quite nice, I see this becoming a multi-post installment, perhaps?

Thank you.

Yeah, I started it and had to log off.

And it felt unfinished as well.

Some of this is actually based on events where I live as well as experiences I have been through.

Some of it is complete fiction.

That is for those who read it to discern, of course.

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 01:27 PM
As Don listened intently to the man who was his target he began wondering just how the man knew these things and if he knew just how many other people in the county knew as well because it was literally putting the entire operation in jeopardy by disclosure of the secretive nature of this covert work that this man was so easily recalling and telling to him. He wondered just how he could get him to tell him without seeming to care and give himself away.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : If you know all of this how come you don't call the F.B.I. and offer to testify against local Law Enforcement?

John : Are you seriously nuts? Why on Earth would I want to involve or get involved with the Federal Bureaucrats Incompetency guys in local stuff when I know damn good and well that they will only bungle it and or tip off these fools as to who reported them. Besides, as far as I see it they will only either get me killed or I would have to hop from location to location through the Federal Witness Protection Program and I have no desire to be up close and personal with that joke of a system.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : So, you look the other way instead?

John : No. I tell the citizens, the ones who need to know, and it passes on to the correct channels, eventually. Sooner or later it will all get found out and that way they take care of their own mess. I want nothing more than to be left alone because they are all a joke if you ask me.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Do you ever go into the whorehouse?

John : Only as a pizza driver and only as long as it takes to get my money and leave.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : You don't hit that? C'mon, you can tell me. You know, butter up one of those honey's and nail her.

John : I don't share my bed with a whore, nor do I pay for sex. I would rather not have my fleshly appendages fall off because of some disease ridden hooker. Thank you.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : What about a female customer? Ever go back when her husband isn't there? Or some nubile twenty year old who gives you the love-me eyes?

John : You haven't worked in food service long, have you? I don't screw around with married women, and I certainly don't screw customers.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Not even if they invite you back?

John : I just smile politely and thank them for the offer. And if they ask why I did not come back I either point to the fact I had to work late, or another driver asked me to close. To me being in a work environment is serious. Why would I jeopardize my job for a piece of tail?

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Because you're horny?

John : Being horny and my libido have nothing to do with my job. I know how to think outside of my crotch. That's bending to the will of sexual perversity and the reptilian mind.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Reptilian mind? What the Hell?

John : Yes, you have two minds, left and right hemisphere, one controls thoughts, creativity, and higher brain functions, the other control sexual, greed, and the neanderthal brain, your cave man instincts. I would rather not get fired because I can't keep that in check.

John listened to what was being said back to him with disgust because to him a job was dead serious, no fooling around other than mild and unoffensive humor. Customer's did not appreciate that kind of treatment and even the mildest of flirting could get you in trouble with the wrong person. As he pulled his car into the parking lot of the apartment complex and directed the man he knew was an undercover agent to follow him upstairs, he scanned his sectors to know where and when trouble may come from. Knocking loudly on the door he saw the man standing next to him silently question why he had knocked so loudly. The door was opened by a beautiful brunette standing about five foot six compared to John's six foot four height and she smiled with recognition at the site of the familiar pizza man.

Customer : Oh, hey John. Let me get my money out of my purse.

The door began closing but John placed his foot gently against it so it did not slam, letting it close quietly. The woman came back to the door with a handful of cash and a bright smile on her face.

John : How are you tonight, Mrs Jones? This is my trainee, Don. I am showing him the ropes of delivering and yours was the first delivery available. You ordered two pizzas, a 2-liter bottle of Pepsi, and breadsticks. The total is $25.46.

Customer : Oh, Don, you listen to John. He's been one of my drivers for years. He is always so nice and helpful.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Yes ma'am.

Customer : And John? I keep telling you to call me Susan. Here's $35 dollars, you keep the change.

John : Thank you Mrs Jon,...Susan. How's the husband? And are the kids behaving?

Customer : Oh he will be home any second now. You sure you don't want one of these kids as an additional tip?

John : ~laughing~ No thank you.

The nice woman closed the door as John walked away and Don tugged on his shirt sleeve.

John : Yeah?

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : She wanted you, big boy.

John : No she didn't. She's just flirtatious. Besides, she's married and a customer.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : So?

John : You know, as in happily married?

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : She wants your pepperoni.

John : Yeah, real funny.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Okay, all kidding aside. Why did you knock so loud?

John : The doors of this apartment complex are thick and you have to knock loud or sometimes the customer's don't hear you.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Oh okay. Makes sense.

Walking back to the car John watched the other man get in to the vehicle as his cell phone began to ring and he picked it up on the second ring. He listened intently as the female voice spoke for a full forty-five seconds. He hung up the phone and got in the car with the other man sitting impatiently. Starting the car and looking back John realized the other man had a silent question by watching his body language and just let the other man sit there with an unanswered question stewing in his brain. As he backed out of the parking lot he spun the wheel quickly and revved the gasoline pedal just a smidge. Shifting into drive he drove the car to the nearest stop sign and stopped as he saw a West Melbourne Police cruiser pull up to the other side and waved the Police Officer through. He nodded at the Police Officer as he waited patiently. When the cruiser accelerated through the four-way stop, he took his foot off the brake pedal and tapped the gas pedal.

John : The call was Allie telling me there was an accident about halfway back to the store.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Huh?

John : The phone call I answered. It was the boss telling me to be careful. I'll take a side road to get back to the store because of the accident.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Oh okay.

As John turned a side road knowing where it headed he watched his speedometer as he let his foot off the gasoline and the vehicle slowed from forty-five down to thirty miles per hour. When he pulled up to the red traffic light he could see the man sitting next to him, he could see yet another unasked question on the man through his body language.

John : Henry Avenue is West Melbourne's bread and butter road.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Their what?

John : Speed traps. The city of West Melbourne is like Hazzard County with Roscoe P Coltrain and Enos sitting on the side of the road with radar watching for speeders.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Really? Where do they sit?

John : Keep watching and see if you can spot them before I do.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Okay.

John : Did you spot him yet? Because I did.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Baloney. No. Where and how did you spot him already.

John : The cruiser is sitting about one hundred yards up ahead.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : You can't see that far up there!

John : You're right. I watched the cars ahead for brake lights and the cars coming the opposite way slowing way down. The vehicles moving away from us were flashing their headlights after passing that spot on the left and it reflected in the windshield.

They continued driving in silence for about another minute and as they passed a copse of trees on their left a Police Cruiser marked with West Melbourne Police Department sped off the side of the road pursuing a vehicle heading the opposite way that John was heading while driving thirty miles per hour.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : How did you know?

John : I told you already. Roscoe and Enos, this town is like Hazzard County. They hide the speed limit signs at night so non-locals don't know the speed limit because of the black trash bag hiding the reflective white surface.

[edit on 17-10-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 04:24 PM
As John pulled into the store he noticed the vehicle of the man who was riding with him. The stickers on it look like they had been placed specifically in a certain order like they were meant to be seen, almost as if an unspoken code was present on the man's vehicle. They matched up and or were similar in nature to the other two new co-workers being sports related and patriotic in origin without any sense of humor portrayed on the three different cars which stuck out like a sore thumb unlike the co-workers he knew for years. He looked to one co-worker's car and noticed the Honk if you're horny sticker and chuckled to himself.

John : Driver in!

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Driver in!

John walked the other man through cash-in procedures and explained to him that once he had been there for a while he might get trusted in the cash register, but until then that either himself or a manager would cash him in when returning from a delivery. The other nodded ascent to the statement and was directed back to do dishes walking quickly to the rear of the store but not before John noticed him high-five one of the other men he suspected as being an undercover agent when they thought he was not looking. John thought how silly and unprepared these men were for covert work because they were inconsistent with the necessity of low-profile standards compared to what he thought was necessary to keep from being caught in the site line of what he knew they referred to as him being the target.

As he stepped back to the cut-table to cut a pizza coming out of the oven the other two operatives were speaking to each other about football. Noting the time of the year he thought how odd it was that they were discussing the Super Bowl considering that it was more than six months before the football games leading up to that season were to start and how the one man made mention that this years Super Bowl looked like it was going to be boring. Another euphemism thought John as he listened quietly to their words as he was doing his job and stood up and looked directly at one and then the other and asked them why they were discussing that event when it wasn't even the season.

Undercover Operative Two : Oh, I thought it looked like a bad year.

Undercover Operative Three : Seemed like a slow season to me.

John : It's not even football season.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : What are we talking about guys?

John : They were discussing the Super Bowl and I asked why since it's not even close to the season.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : I thought you weren't into sports, John?

John : I may not be into sports, but I'm not stupid. I've only worked for decades around people who are into them.

John just looked all three men in the eyes one on one locking into their gaze as he walked away to do something else. Grabbing the handle to the walk-in cooler he pulled it open and walked inside looking for a box of shredded cheese for the make-line. Putting his hands on it he pulled it off the shelf and put it over his forearm and loaded a bag of Italian sausage and a bag of ground beef on top of it and pushed the door open, and turned to open the door to see the three men whispering privately between them. He just smiled at them as they saw he saw them whispering.

John : If you guys are not busy, I want you and you to grab a stack of medium handtossed each and bring them up to the make-line, and I want you to grab a stack of pan dough. Stop standing around jack-jawing and wasting time because if the manager catches you nattering like old women she will make you scrub the floorboards even when they don't need it.

Trainee Don Fielding (Undercover Agent) : Yes sir.

Undercover Operative Two : Yes sir.

Undercover Operative Three : Yes boss.

John began walking to the make-line and set down his armload of food on the table.

Allie : JJ!

John : Yeah?

Allie : You have number forty-five and forty-six. Don has forty-seven. Where are Tom and Dick?

John : In the walk-in. I put them to work filling the proofer's with dough for the cooks.

Allie : Good job.

Opening the bag of Italian sausage, John watched as the three men scrambled to bring the dough round the corner and saw the look on their faces that they would not make the mistake of being caught again talking and he smiled at the men. The man under surveillance thought the irony of him telling the men who were conducting the up close and personal surveillance were now having to conduct themselves more professionally because of him. The thought had never crossed his mind that a covert operation would happen around him at work let alone at this job and that a black box operation would be what was conducted where he would be evaluated on so many levels.


Agent Swanson : I'm telling you, Jack, this man knows he is being watched and does not care.

Unidentified Male Voice : What do you want to do then?

Agent Swanson : I think we made a mistake. This man is better than us. He's too smart for this operation we want to use him for.

Unidentified Male Voice : What do you want to do with him?

Agent Swanson : We may have to kill him.

Unidentified Male Voice : No wet-works. There are too many things riding on this operation moving smoothly. If you do it make it look like an accident. We do not need the Secret Service asking questions about a mysterious death right before POTUS visits that town.

Agent Swanson : I understand completely.

Unidentified Male Voice : I mean it. No questions and no strings left untrimmed.

Agent Swanson : Agreed.

Agent Swanson clicked the cell phone closed and wrote across the file folder in bold-faced lettering :

TXP Directive : Terminate Extreme Prejudice


John backed his car out of the parking space and into a right-hand turn so he could proceed out of the parking lot towards a left turn. Sitting at the road waiting to cross it he spotted a red Dodge Ram dually speeding down the road that ran parallel to the store behind him and observed it was not going to be able to stop in time. Quickly scanning to the left and then the right, and then scanning back to the left again he maneuvered quickly into the oncoming traffic in the right hand lane by steering quickly and hitting the accelerator. The red Dodge Ram slammed on its brakes just before entering traffic with the wheels squealing as John watched in his rear-view mirror and he quickly turned to the right on the next corner heading back towards the store since he had been unable to turn left because of a lack of time due to what he saw was a potential accident coming.

As he turned around the next corner he looked down the side street parallel to the store as the red Dodge Ram dually sat at the stop sign, and saw the man slamming his fists on the steering wheel in a fit of rage in what to John did not look like as being upset over not stopping but what looked almost like disappointment for not having hit him. Then it dawned on John that this was the same man that followed him earlier in the day just that he was in a different vehicle. Coming to the stop sign on a different street John thought about who might want him dead and the thought clicked in his mind about the three undercover operative that were back in the store and this man making a fourth and considered this team had to be bigger than he had originally come to the conclusion about when he had assessed them and their capabilities.

John reached down and felt the tire iron reassuringly right by his driver side in the pocket of the car door where maps were usually kept and gripped it tight because he knew it might come to a physical attack next and a no-weapons policy was something the corporate big-wigs were always speaking about due to robbery being a potential incident to happen and driver's were not supposed to defend themselves but only give up the money. No one said what was to happen if money was not what the person wanted but to kill a driver just for sports, so John knew he might have to break that rule and utilize normal everyday items as implements which was nothing new to his way of thinking since he knew from history that ninjas and assassins began using farm implements that eventually turned into stealth weapons which were easily hidden and just as easily denied as weapons since they were but a humble farmer on their masters land.

He looked down on the floor of the car and saw the toolkit and knew the screwdrivers could be shoved either into the temple for a quick kill, or into the throat and sever the jugular vein, or even if worse came to worse stab it into the femoral artery inside a targets inner thigh. Driving down the block he turned to the right and sped up when traffic allowed him to exit the side road and began plotting if he would actually need to follow through with these thoughts or whether these men would leave him alone and walk away. He began making mental notes of which house he knew were abandoned in the nearby neighborhood and which might be used as a bushwhack site if push came to shove to get rid of these men who he now saw were trying to kill him. Thinking back to his apartment he considered how long it might take to saw off the barrel and make his twelve gauge shotgun a sawed-off runt as an easily concealed weapon to hide.

All of these thoughts were racing through John's mind and he missed his turn off the main road on West New Haven Avenue. Cursing under his breath he looked in the rear-view mirror to try and get over in the left-hand lane to make a U-Turn and saw the red Dodge Ram dually three cars back and knew he had to make an evasive maneuver quickly.

[edit on 17-10-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 07:28 PM
reply to post by SpartanKingLeonidas

Bet you start reading my regular threads more often though.

Without a doubt my friend. I am glad you continued this story too. I have some catching up to do now! Thanks.

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 10:32 PM
reply to post by SpartanKingLeonidas

Thanks. It was always interesting.

posted on Oct, 18 2009 @ 09:08 AM
reply to post by jackflap

Thanks jackflap.

I appreciate the comments and compliments.

reply to post by mikerussellus

Glad you liked it mikerussellus.

It was a much needed break from the rest of ATS.

posted on Oct, 18 2009 @ 11:12 AM
A lot of good ideas here.

I think you've violated the 1000 word limit for this particular content
but that is okay by me, because I think you have something worthwhile here.

Keep going on this! I think it has some very cool ideas. There are some very authentic sounding parts to this story and I would like to read more.

(A bit autobiographical, is it? Somewhat, anyway?)

posted on Oct, 18 2009 @ 05:26 PM

Originally posted by Axial Leader
A lot of good ideas here.

I think you've violated the 1000 word limit for this particular content
but that is okay by me, because I think you have something worthwhile here.

Keep going on this! I think it has some very cool ideas. There are some very authentic sounding parts to this story and I would like to read more.

(A bit autobiographical, is it? Somewhat, anyway?)

I could have sworn you could not write less than 1,000 characters.

Some of it is based on real life, some is pure fiction, leaving that up to the reader.

I have worked in food service for fifteen years now, working two to four jobs simultaneously.

That's not the only part that was based on reality.

posted on Oct, 19 2009 @ 09:06 AM
As John looked in the rear-view mirror watching the red Dodge Ram dually, he glanced to his left noticing that there was just enough space between the vehicle riding in front of him to the left and the vehicle behind it. Turning on his left-hand turn blinker quickly, he jerked the steering wheel quickly to the left in a semi-professional maneuver and crossed through the two vehicles to quickly move over to the middle turn lane with a concrete curb that acted as a small barrier to keep vehicles from driving in the grass. He watched as the large truck that had been following behind him tried a similar maneuver, unsuccessfully, smashing into an oncoming flatbed Lowes delivery vehicle, tires screeching as both drivers applied their brakes hastily. John watched in his rear-view mirror to see the driver more closely, the man having an aquiline nose, with a prominent bridge, giving it the appearance of being curved or slightly bent, blond hair and either blue or green eyes. John just bet the man with the Roman looking nose had his nose bent out of shape now, laughing at his silly pun, he scanned to the right to see how far traffic was away from him and expertly spun the wheel hard to the left committing the left-hand U-Turn and slammed on the accelerator.


D.E.A. Agent Swanson was not a happy man as he was sitting with a rather large delivery vehicle which had smashed his truck in the driver side of his brand new truck, t-boning it in the door. He felt the tension in his leg as he tried to pull it higher on the seat to keep away from the sharp point of the torn plastic and metal which was sticking into the cab. Hearing the other man screaming at him and threatening a lawsuit if the hourly employee got fired, Swanson dialed his cell phone quickly as he heard the siren of the local Law Enforcement coming onto the scene of the accident.

D.E.A. Agent Swanson : Yeah. It's me. Our target just suckered me into a traffic accident. No, I have the appropriate identification. This won't track back to you or the boss.

Unidentified Male Voice : It had better not. This operation has already had far too many SNAFU's. Do you hear me, Jeremy?

D.E.A. Agent Swanson : I hear you, sir.

Agent Swanson hung up the cell phone and looked out at the Police Officer heading towards him. Looking past the man with the badge he saw the target speed away, and the man was holding his arm out of the window of the driver side with his arm raised and a middle finger salute. Swanson just smiled at the irony that a pizza delivery man had just lured him into a professional trap that only intelligence operatives and spies usually knew how to pull off without a hitch suckering him in because he was so over-confident in his own abilities.

Brevard County Sheriff : Sir, are you alright? Can you move?

Jeremy Fasces (Undercover D.E.A. Agent Swanson) : Yes Officer. I'm just a bit shaken up. I had tried to get over quickly so I wouldn't miss the turn around. Guess I didn't see the Lowes delivery truck, he was in my blind spot.

Brevard County Sheriff : That's okay, sir. Don't move until the Ambulance gets here. You were hit pretty badly.

Sheriff : BCS-117 to dispatch *static*

Dispatch : Dispatch, go ahead BCS-117 *static*

Sheriff : Dispatch, can I get an ETA on the Ambulance, please? *static*

Dispatch : BCS-117, Ambulance is en-route. Will be arriving at your 10-20 in three minutes. Do you require back-up?

Sheriff : Negative on back-up, dispatch. 10-4 on ETA. Thank you.

Dispatch : 10-4 BCS-117.


John watched the scene of the vehicle accident as he sped away and smiled to himself knowing the guy who had been following him would be tied up for hours in the hospital. Overall the plan had worked but he felt guilt over getting the Lowes driver into an accident, but let it go when he thought about the man who had been following him having tried to push him out into traffic earlier. Turning into the turn lane at the next left-hand turn opportunity, John watched for traffic as he waited for a few vehicles seeing the ambulance coming a half-mile away, he sped over to the right-hand lane and sped up slowly forcing another vehicle behind him to honk his horn and move to the left-hand lane quickly. John pressed on the accelerator and watched as the ambulance sped along with its red lights flashing and siren wailing the mournful sound in warning of vehicles to get out of the way. As he sped up to keep pace with traffic, John noted how the ambulance was in the left-hand lane as he turned right, the vehicle blocking his right turn down the side street a half block from the accident and he lost track of the man in the red truck.


D.E.A. Agent Swanson looked in his rear-view mirror as the ambulance was pulling up, watching the vehicle of the target he had been following and as the ambulance quickly pulled up onto the grass blocking his field of vision, the target's vehicle disappeared from traffic altogether. He thought about this for a moment and considered what had happened and dismissed it as an illusion and or possibly a head trauma from the accident. He was not known for seeing things and was not about to include this in his deposition after getting out of the hospital. Watching the ambulance driver and E.M.S. technicians get out of the Emergency Services vehicle he laid his head back on the headrest of the truck and blacked out completely.


The driveway where John pulled into in order to deliver the pizza was dark yet familiar. Putting the vehicle in park, he grabbed the pizza bag and the 2-liter of Sierra Mist off of the seat and walked quietly to the door and looked down just as the house lights came on almost blinding him. Walking up to the door he pulled the screen door open and knocked loudly and stepped back letting the screen door slam accidentally. The door opened a crack as the man inside looked out at him, then opened the rest of the way as recognition dawned on the occupant of the dreary and dark house.

John Spartan : Hello, Mr Johnson. I got here just in time. There was an accident just a block down the road.

Customer : Is everyone okay? You didn't see anything, did you? Should I call the Police?

John Spartan : I saw that a truck foolishly crossed into the path of one of those Lowes delivery trucks. As far as I know they are both walking away from it. I saw Brevard County on scene as I turned into your street.

Customer : Oh, okay. Well, here's the check.

John Spartan : And here's your pizza and 2-liter of Sierra Mist, sir.

Customer : Just like I like it, hot pizza and cold soda. Thank you.

John Spartan : Yes sir, nothing stops me delivering, not even accidents. Thank you, sir. Have a good night.

Customer : You too, John.

John got back in his car starting the engine and shifted into reverse, looking in his rearview mirror and side-mirrors, he backed out quickly. As he shifted to drive the radio was playing a hairband from the eighties.

John Spartan : She's my cherry drink of water such a sweet surprise...

Turning the volume to the highest setting he began singing loudly and smiling as he drove to the end of the road and stopped at the red and white stop sign. Looking to the right then looking to the left he spotted the ambulance and E.M.S. crew as the men were loading a man on a stretcher and strapping him into it, cinching off the straps to hold the man in place. Looking back to the right John noticed he had a clear path to turn into traffic and turned the steering wheel as he accelerated and drove past the man who now had his head pointed towards him with his feet pointed in the opposite direction, knowing the man could not see him, he stomped the accelerator just a bit more turning his left-turn indicator on so that he could move into the left lane. Watching in his rearview mirror John noticed the doors to the ambulance close and he looked in his rearview mirror then the left-side mirror to see if he could get over yet. An opportunity opened and he slid over into the left-hand lane quickly. Driving for three minutes he turned into the left-turn lane in the middle of the intersection and waited for the green light to turn so he could turn left. He spoke out loud to no one in particular.

John Spartan : Adapt, modify, improvise, and overcome.

He sped up as he passed the accident scene while heading the opposite direction, heading back to the store. After a minute or two of driving the delivery driver spotted the 7-11 convenience store on the right-hand corner and moved swiftly over to the right lane. Stopping for the red light John watched the traffic moving through the four-way intersection as the vehicles were turning left to his right countering the drivers who were turning left on his left, the traffic moved like a ballet in his eyes. Then the vehicles began going straight as the red arrow came on and the turn lanes ceased entering the intersection. The light seemed to take forever as he considered what he had done to shake his tail. The vehicle behind him honked its horn and he waved with his patented bite me wave which was a nice way of telling the person behind him he was going to go just as fast as he wanted to.

As he pressed down on the accelerator and increased speed through the intersection with the now green light he turned on his right-turn indicator and slowed down to turn into the gasoline station. Pulling his vehicle into a parking space and putting it into park, he stepped out of the car and hit the automatic door lock and slammed the door shut and walked around the car.

[edit on 19-10-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Oct, 19 2009 @ 03:27 PM
As John walked up to the door of the convenience store another man held the door open for him as the man exited the store. He thanked the man and walked through the door heading to the left towards the restroom. Grabbing the handle and twisting to see if it was locked the handle turned easily in his hand and he walked inside locking the door behind him. Walking to the mirror he took off the black baseball hat with the corporate logo on it and set it on top of the paper towel dispenser. Turning on the water he quickly put his hands under the semi-warm water as it heated and splashed some of it on his face rubbing it his eyes. Pulling down on the paper towel dispenser's handle it let out two sheets of brown paper towel, and John pressed down two more times, pulling off the paper towel and ripping it across to the right from his left in order to tear it. Patting his face so as to dry it he folded the paper towel's in on themselves as they began to take the moisture from his hands and dried them quickly.

Throwing the paper towel's into the waste basket he turned to get his hat which began to fall on the floor and he made a quick movement with his left hand grabbing it out of the air before it got halfway to the floor and spun it around setting it on top of his head. Turning the locking mechanism silently John turned the door handle and proceeded out towards the back of the store past the beer with many selections, he stopped at the soda doors opening one and selecting a Mountain Dew, pulling it out of the slot it was standing in and let the cooler door shut. Snatching a bag of Doritos off the shelf he walked to the counter and set the bag of chips down with bar-code towards the clerk and the bottle of soda with the bar-code facing the clerk. The clerk grabbed the hand-held device with the red flashing light and swept it past the bar-code of each item and an audible beep could be heard from both as the scanner electronically documented the purchase both for the clerk to tell the customer what items were rung up as well as an electronic cataloging device to tell the manager what items were depleted within the inventory.

John Spartan : You know that those bar-codes are the same thing as the R.F.I.D. chip in the DVD's at Wal-Mart, don't you?

7-11 Employee : Yeah. We have them in certain items here.

John Spartan : Oh really?

7-11 Employee : Yes sir. High dollar items, like pre-paid cell phones and beepers.

John Spartan : Well, there will come a time when those R.F.I.D. chips are implanted in everyone. They are called the bio-chip, you can look them up on Wikipedia as Digital Angel and Verichip, one and the same entity with the exact same corporate address. Sold as two different creatures on Wall Street.

7-11 Employee : Interesting. Total is $5.24, sir.

John Spartan : Here's $6.00

7-11 Employee : And 76 cents is your change. Thank you.

John Spartan : Remember, Verichip and Digital Angel.

7-11 Employee : I will.

John Spartan : And look up the book I.B.M. and the Holocaust as well.

He walked out the door as a female held it open for him, grabbing his car keys and holding them cupped in his hand with the main key sticking out between his index and middle finger. Watching each direction as he stepped around to his car he saw no one physically following him, the plan to stop at the 7-11 as a choke-point worked perfectly because if someone else had been following him they would have stood out to him and if they instead kept driving he shook them off his tail which meant the man in the accident had been acting alone, this time. Inserting the key into the lock and turning it to the left he pulled the key out and pulled upward on the handle and pulled the door open, getting into the car, inserting the key in the ignition to start the car. Looking back in the rear-view mirror and to both left and right sides he backed out as quickly as possible turning the steering wheel to the right to make the car turn left.

Shifting to drive he stepped lightly on the gas pedal and the vehicle moved slowly towards the stop sign and he turned on the right-hand turn indicator. Watching as the light turned red for the oncoming traffic he drove the car down the slight embankment and moved onto the road from the exit to the convenience store and moved quickly to the left lane. Driving East on the road he watched the rear-view mirror as he proceeded through the next few intersections of green lights and smiled to himself.


Telephone Conversation :

Voice One : How is this man knows so much information about this type of stuff?

Voice Two : Military family, he has stated over the phone many times to a friend he has studied history, warfare, military, et cetera. He also frequents a conspiracy theory website.

Voice One : What's it called?

Voice Two : Above Top Secret.

Voice One : Sounds like clandestine to me. What is it, really?

Voice Two : Just a place where kooks go to talk about U.F.O.'s, the J.F.K. assassination, and the Moon landing being faked.

Voice One : Do we have any assets there to discredit him if need be?

Voice Two : Yes. There are always watchers posted on there. The intelligence agencies watch those places for real intelligence that might leak out.

Voice One : Does the website owner know this?

Voice Two : They suspect it. Hell, they have even been accused of being COINTELPRO before.

Voice One : Really? That's a laugh. As if we would allow a website to be a part of something covert.

Voice Two : I know. These freaks will believe almost anything. Perfect for what we want. After Randy Weaver and Timothy McVeigh we needed a way to discredit people quickly.

Voice One : Don't say those names again. You know we can get targeted just as easily, especially running a black box against one citizen.

Voice Two : Sorry, I forgot.

Voice One : This man knows far too much. Good bye, sir.

Voice Two : I know. Good bye, sir.


John Spartan : Driver in!

Allie : Ready to go home?

John Spartan : Sure. Here's my money from the delivery, and my money from the float.

Allie : Okay. See you tomorrow.

John Spartan : No dishes?

Allie : No, there's too many drivers on. Go home.

John Spartan : Okay. No argument here.

He walked over to the computer terminal and punched in four letters, hit enter, and entered another two letters, pressing enter again.

You Are Now Clocked Out At - 21:26pm

Walking to the front door he pushed on the crash bar and exited and moved towards his car. Getting into the vehicle he cranked the radio up loud and performed his usual security perimeter checks and backed out of the parking space into the middle of the parking lot and accelerated the car towards the exit. Looking to the right and then the left he focused on the left where the red truck had been earlier seeing the skid marks where the vehicle had slammed on its brakes to stop the collision after trying to ram him into oncoming traffic. Shaking his head he turned to the right and sped down the short road to the two-way stop sign, stopping while two cars and a truck sped past doing forty in a twenty-five mile per hour zone. Going through the intersection down to the next stop sign John contemplated just what conspiracy he was going to be reading about tonight and whether or not he should share today's episode with these members of an international conspiracy theory website. Stopping at the stop sign he threw his black baseball cap into the back seat of the car and turned left when appropriate. To no one in particular he spoke out loud under his breath as the singer on the radio went into a screaming vocal set.

John Spartan : Nah, too hokey an event. Besides, where would I even start?

Continuing to drive down Fee avenue John opened the Doritos while steering with his knee holding the steering wheel tightly and pulled out a few chips inserting them into his mouth and crunching loudly. Stopping at the stop sign he watched as the heavyset bald man hung out at the mailbox holding his bicycle while talking to one of their neighbors. He crossed the road with the vehicle parking next to the mailboxes and got out of the car going to his mailbox and inserted the key turning it to the right and ignored the man who gave off the vibes of someone who was inherently evil.

Bob : Hey John.

John Spartan : Hey Bob. How goes it?

Bob : Not much. Noticed you talking to the Security Officer the other day.

John Spartan : Yep.

Bob : He said he saw someone walking late at night around the street the other night.

John Spartan : Oh really? Well, I will keep my eyes out for strangers. Can't be too careful these days.

Bob : You do that.

Getting back in his car John noticed the hairs on the back of his arm standing on end from the short conversation he had tried to avoid with the creepy man who always seemed to know what was going on, almost as if the man got intelligence data from the local gossip network. This creeped him out to no end because this neighborhood used to protect itself and now there seemed to be a group of people watching him and they all knew intimate knowledge he had never told anyone about him like they were stalking him but they seemed to be the perfect types of Government men and women who look like they just crawled out of three-piece suits and dressy clothing. He knew the new neighbor next door to him seemed odd, the one who lived above him worked at the store where he worked but was as silent as a ghost all the time along with his wife they never seemed to speak, ever.

Was the Government in fact stalking him because of the conspiracy theory website thought John to himself?

[edit on 19-10-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Oct, 20 2009 @ 05:54 PM
John got out his car after parking it in the small parking spaces his apartment complex had available, they were smaller because when the cheap landlord had them resurfaced they painted the white lines a smaller distance between them in order to make more parking spaces. He often wondered if they knew that only created one or two more spaces and frustrated the Hell out of the tenants due to the fact that you almost could not get out of your vehicle without slamming into another tenant's vehicle. Winding his way between cars he noticed that the light was on in his corner apartment when he was not home and living alone this was suspicious because no one was ever in the apartment without his permission. Walking the sidewalk he looked in each window as he passed them with no luck seeing in as he always kept the blinds drawn, he came to the corner of the sidewalk and turned right walking along underneath the stairwell to the front door of the apartment, the only door, a choke-point, only one way in and one way out and noticed the screen door was ajar.

Usually the latch was caught because he was always careful to shove it when walking away. Pulling his house keys out of his left pocket slowly, he inserted the key into the deadbolt and turned it to the right unlocking the door and pushed the door open slowly while standing back in case someone was inside who might try and jump him. By the dim light of the apartment he could see no one was present in the livingroom but he was cautious and walked slowly to the computer desk picking up the nightstick that was sitting there and grasped the handle tightly with the length of it along his forearm to act as a shield and the knob end protruding as a jabbing weapon and silently made his way past the kitchen observing it was empty and moving towards the short hallway. Stopping at the bathroom entrance, the door always open, he looked into the spare bedroom from there noticing the light was on and stepped to the right towards the bathroom to shield him from view if anyone was present as well to get a closer look into the main bedroom which was to the left. No one was in the master bedroom as he glanced into it and he stepped cautiously into the doorway of the spare bedroom to find no one.

He reasoned that he must have left a light on but the air was electric almost as if someone had passed through the room before he had only moments before. Standing in the hallway he looked into the master bedroom and saw the three inch stack of shooting targets were in a slight disarray like someone had pulled them out and hastily put them away. Throwing the baton on the bed he reached under the mattress for the nine millimeter Glock-17, gripping it tight, without the necessity of ratcheting the slide back to put a bullet in the chamber because he always left one in the barrel for just such an occasion, he moved back stealthily towards the kitchen and moved over the white linoleum gliding silently as a ghost towards the walk-in pantry which would be the only other place someone could hide. Gripping the handle firmly with his right hand and the Glock-17 with in his left hand, he turned the handle as quietly as possible and yanked the door open, slamming his left hand into the right hand which now held the butt of the pistol in the classic shooters stance which made it a firm double-handed grip.

Nobody in the closet only made him more edgy because he could still feel the electricity, almost like feeling someone's aura after they vacated the apartment before he got home. Putting the Glock-17 into his waistband he looked around for anything else that seemed out of place besides the used shooting targets which he stacked on top of each other in synchronous order from oldest on the bottom to newest on top, the only other thing that seemed out of place was a book on the bookshelf that was out of place by a half inch in the spare bedroom called How To Be Invisible. The book was written by a man who had literally disappeared when the wrong Government began looking for him and John thought it was interesting enough but had learned nothing from it due to an eclectic amount of useful knowledge he had collected over a lifetime. Pushing the book back onto the shelf more securely he considered making the effort to collect fingerprints from the book briefly but reconsidered since if someone had been in his apartment it would be extremely difficult to prove and fingerprints alone would not be enough.


Telephone Conversation :

Voice One : The target just got home. I barely got out of his apartment before he came in.

Voice Two : That was rather stupid of you. What happened to your lookout? That man has guns and knows how to kill without much thought other than self-defense.

Voice One : My lookout wasn't available. I thou,...

Voice Two : You what?!? You did not think, at all, Steve. If the man had found you snooping in his apartment you would have never been found. He's made declarative statements to this effect before when speaking to various people.

Voice One : Sorry.

Voice Two : Damn right you're sorry. We want nothing traceable back to us. If he can link this to a black box operation, we're screwed.

Voice One : Why is this so important that he not trace it back to us?

Voice Two : Because, after Project Megiddo and those other events, we're being watched closer than ever.

Voice One : You mean Wac,...

Voice Two : SHUT THE HELL UP! You're pushing it. There are far too many links now. Goodbye for now.

Voice One : Good bye, sir.


He stood in the apartment thinking of ways to get the information he needed to stop these people. John was not easily stumped when it came to handling business of his own.

Pulling a book off the shelf in the livingroom he sat on the couch and began thumbing through the pages of a book called HAARP : The Ultimate Weapon of the Conspiracy and began reading where his bookmark was placed. The book was supposed to be a serious attempt to discover who is really behind the HAARP project and how they plan to rule the world. According to the book HAARP was a possible scientific and military application, from planetary defense shield to a tool for pioneering deep into the earth. From what John knew the facility and machine designated as HAARP, standing for High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program, sounded like something right out of Buck Rogers, but more closely he had linked it back to Nikola Tesla as one of the scientists inventions that never came to the light of day as having been his invention due to Edison and Westinghouse.

John thumbed each page delicately as he scanned the pages reading about the technical nature of the device and its alleged concepts and the conspiracies surrounding it and that the facility was a place where you could go take tours of because of its link to science but he knew unlike other fellow conspiracy theorists that it was linked to the military through DARPA. This is why they were scared of him since the Government did not like average citizens stumbling around their secrets and maybe this was why he was getting strange vibes from some of these people now living around him. Were they possibly secret Government agents? Would this be enough for them to kill him over or were they just watching and collecting data? He thought this over for a moment about the events that had led up to that moment and wondered just how this was being investigated behind the scenes.

Would they try to stop him or was the event from earlier just happenstance? That man had been following him prior to going to work and then the accidental near rear-end. He knew they watched everything going through the computer through the Echelon System watching for keywords, collecting data and the thought of one too many red-flags made him cringe as he thought about what he had been digging into on the conspiracy theory website for the last four years and the conclusion came to him that yes this would be enough of a reason to warrant them killing him if the need arose or if he kept digging too much. Unknown to them he had figured out there was no such thing as the New World Order and that this was a set of keywords itself set up to flag anyone and everyone through e-mails, telephone calls, and other assorted efforts of collecting data John had figured out these three seemingly innocent keywords were in fact just a set of words which set into play a causation for the person using them to be instantaneously discredited when it came to talking about the alleged conspiracy like a dog chasing its tail around in circles through the game of Chinese Whispers.

Eventually, people would get tired of chasing their tail or estrange all of their family and friends and then they would look crazy and instead of actually getting to the bottom of anything they would have done over half of the work for the Government who hid behind these words working behind the scenes through shadows and gray propaganda in order to commit darker and more heinous crimes using the people against themselves for the end goal of eventually getting everyone microchipped with the bio-chip and John began to wonder if HAARP somehow figured into all of this as a means of tracking in conjunction with the cell phone towers as a means to triangulate the location of everyone on the planet with the OnStar system. This is why the do not like you very much thought the man who had begun to randomly put two and two together all of a sudden. It all linked back to when he had bought that book I.B.M. and the Holocaust and used the bar-code to get the customer discount at Walden Books. John remembered when he had bought the book and was thrilled over getting the ten percent off and when the coupons came to his mailbox he had been even happier.

Knowledge equals power.

[edit on 20-10-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

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