Infringement (3 page)

“What else are you looking for?”

“I’m not really sure. I guess I want to know why he would want not one, but two semi-automatic rifles. I just don’t know where else I can look.”

“I do, rookie.”

“Okay, spill it.”

“It’s easy, put in a PRISM request with the regional fusion center.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“Of course it is. They’ll be able to tell you anything and everything you want to know about your boy. Where he works, where he shops, who he emailed this morning and what he said.”

“How about ammo purchases?”

“That’s easy. Unless he’s bought ammo on the underground market, or stolen it, they’ll be able to tell you exactly how much he’s bought, when and from where, even going back to pre-ban purchases.”

“Sweet,” Declan replied. “That’s exactly what I need.”

“Glad I could help.”

_______________________

Declan accessed the fusion center request protocol, made sure he had the necessary information and credentials in front of him and placed a call to the regional fusion center. After providing his credentials and various information and passwords verifying his security clearance, the representative asked for his request.

“I need a history of all ammunition purchases for a subject.”

“Subject’s name?”

“Stanton, David Timothy.”

“Date of birth?”

“7/22/82”

“Current address?”

“9292 Parkside Ave., Apartment B.”

“Hold please.”

“Okay,” Declan replied.

A few seconds later, the representative said, “I’m sorry, but your security clearance isn’t sufficient to obtain the requested records on Stanton, David Timothy.”

“What?”

“Information relating to Stanton, David Timothy has been classified SCI. You don’t have SCI clearance for this compartment.”

“I’m not even certain I know what SCI clearance is, but why would his records be SCI?”

“SCI means Sensitive Compartmented Information. Essentially, additional controls have been placed on the dissemination of certain records and information relating to this subject.”

“By whom?”

“I don’t know and couldn’t tell you if I did, without SCI clearance of course.”

“You said certain records and info are SCI.”

“Correct.”

“Can you tell me what info I can access?”

“Not without a request.”

“Fine, I’m requesting all information and records on the subject available to my clearance level.”

“That’s very vague.”

“Agreed, but it’s my request.”

“I’ll forward any information at your clearance level to your secured email address.”

“Thank you.”

December 19
^th

Unable to sleep for much of the night, Declan finally gave up trying. He’d stayed at his desk until close to 10:00 the night before, hoping a response to his fusion center request would come back; however, nothing had been sent to his secure email account. He’d been up throughout the night unable to shake the nagging question of why someone who checked out clean in all the FBI’s databases had been classified SCI. It made no sense.

Sometime around 4:00 a.m., determined to begin a serious investigation into Stanton, Declan got out of bed and headed to the gym. He worked out until 7:00, showered, stopped to grab a bagel and coffee, and headed to Stanton’s building on Parkside. By 7:42, he was parked half a block or so from the small four unit building, with a good view of the apartment door and Stanton’s parked black Ford Explorer.

_______________________

As was his custom on his off days, David Stanton slept until nearly noon. After making a small breakfast, he hopped on his computer and spent an hour or so making detailed adjustments to his website. He tinkered with the graphics, layout, fonts and font colors, trying hundreds of options in his search for the most suitable combination to effectively convey his intended message to a global audience.

After working on the site’s aesthetics, Stanton decided to focus on what, along with the live video feed, would become the site’s content. He pulled up a Word document saved as “Abaddon’s Message – Draft 16”.

“Tonight, on this eve of the celebrated birth of the Zionist Messiah, Jesus Christ, you shall witness the power and rage of the Destroyer, Abaddon, the Angel of the Abyss. Tonight, in defiance and justice, I, Abaddon, shall rise and wreak destruction and death upon the so called Bride of Christ and upon the people of this most sinful and depraved generation. In so doing, I shall usher in the Beginning, the ultimate destruction of the old order. Tonight, those who have eyes to see and ears to hear, shall witness a rebirth of our world, accomplished through the destruction of those still clinging to doctrines of oppression and falsity. Abaddon, the Destroyer, shall bring death, and with it, ultimately, life for a new, untarnished, generation. Tonight, the work of ages shall finally culminate in the passing of the falsity of religion and the long awaited birth of Truth. The blood of the sheep, shed in the sanctuary of lies, shall pay the price of Truth and usher in a new era, a new order, a world which will not tolerate the sins of the past. Eternity begins tonight. Witness this Beginning and stand in awe of Abaddon’s cleansing and righteous power. Abaddon, the Destroyer, is AT THE DOOR!”

December 19
^th

“Declan, is that you, honey?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Oh, hi honey. Here, let me take that.” Declan’s mom took the bottle of wine he’d brought for her, along with the twelve pack of Fat Tire beer he’d brought for himself, his brother, and sister-in-law. “I’ll put these in the fridge. Do you want me to open one of the beers for you?”

“Thanks, mom. That would be great.”

“Would you like it in a glass?”

“No, the bottle is fine. How’s your marathon training coming along?”

“Great,” his mom responded. “I did sixteen miles this morning.”

“You continue to amaze me. What is this one, your tenth or eleventh?”

“Twelfth. I’m gonna go open your beer, and get a glass of wine for myself. I think I’ve earned it today. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Declan took off his coat and dropped it gently on the familiar upholstered bench in the foyer, just as he had for as long as he could remember. He walked into the family room and warmed his hands in front of the fireplace, rubbing them together slowly and taking in the crackling aromatic warmth radiating from the slow flames. His focus turned to a small framed photo on the mantle. It was a picture of himself, his older brother Evan, and their dad, taken outside of the family’s small rustic lake house three days after Declan’s tenth birthday.

The joy and energy in his dad’s eyes struck Declan. His dad’s glowing prideful smile as he stood between his two boys, each holding a fish so small it would scarcely feed a mouse, typified the understated steady peacefulness Declan remembered so clearly about his dad. Nothing rattled the man, not even the cancer which took his life a mere 362 days after that photo, on Declan’s eleventh birthday. Declan looked into his dad’s eyes, into everything he remembered, loved and missed about the man.

“Here, honey,” his mom said coming up beside him.

“Thanks,” he replied taking the open beer from her. “I was just looking at the picture of us with dad at the lake house that summer before he got really sick.”

“That’s my favorite picture of you three.”

“Mine too, I think. He just looks so strong still, so happy.”

“He was. He loved taking you boys up to that house.”

“I remember he’d sit there on that little pier fishing with us for hours, just waiting for someone to get a bite. He didn’t really seem to care if we caught anything.”

“He didn’t. Your dad was just happy to be out there with you and Evan, to have time to talk with you both. He loved you boys more than anything or anyone, except God. I know he’s still proud as can be of both of you.”

“I hope so.”

“Of course he is. You following in his footsteps in the FBI and your brother being a doctor? We’re both extremely proud of you boys. You’ve turned out as well as any parents could pray for.”

“I still miss him.”

“I do too, honey. Every single day, but I know I’ll see him again someday, relatively soon perhaps.”

Declan paused for a second, then, wanting to avoid the subject of God and heaven, asked, “Are Evan, Michelle and the kids on the way?”

“They should be. You know they never really get anywhere on time these days.”

“Trust me, I know. Evan even has trouble getting places on time when he doesn’t have the family in tow. What are we having for dinner?”

“My lasagna with salad and garlic bread.”

“I was hoping that’s what I smelled. Do you need help with anything?”

“Since you ask, it would be great if you’d help me set the table.”

“Of course.”

“What do you think of the new amendment?” his mom asked as they went to set the dinner table together.

“Hmm?”

“The constitutional amendment, you think it’ll get passed?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. There was plenty of push for it toward the end of the last administration. I think it has a good chance.”

“What do think about it? You think it’s a good idea to have the same president for more than two terms?”

“I don’t know. I know what
you
think of it, but I’m not really sure yet. I mean, if it passes, it doesn’t mean the president would be re-elected, it would just allow for that possibility. That doesn’t seem so horrible. Besides, we’re essentially talking about a person who is my boss, so I can’t or shouldn’t really say anything negative. Neither should you really. We’ve talked about that before.”

“Yes, of course, we shouldn’t criticize the president, or the vice president, or the speaker, or any of our self-serving so-called leaders. We know all too well these days that nothing we say is private.”

“Mom, we’ve been over this and you know I can’t talk about this stuff, except to tell you what I’ve told you before, which is that we all need to be really careful about what we say, what we write, or what we look at and do online. Things aren’t the same as they were before. People can’t just go around saying whatever they want about our leadership.”

“Sadly, I never thought such a thing would ever be said about this country in my lifetime. I just think it’s another huge step in the wrong direction. Too much power in the hands of one person who already has way too much power to begin with.”

“I know, mom. I know you and Evan think we’re headed to a dictatorship, the fall of America, a one world government and all that, but I just don’t see it. I’m surrounded by this stuff every day, and while there is some truth in some of the conspiracy theories, and we admittedly are under substantially more surveillance and scrutiny, it’s a necessary evil so to speak. It’s a necessary tradeoff in order to keep us all safe. Trust me, there are lots and lots of bad people in this world.”

“I don’t doubt that my dear boy. I’m just afraid most of them are running our country.”

“Mom, c’mon, you can’t say stuff like that. Technically, under Bureau and Homeland regs, I should report and investigate a statement like that as a possible domestic terrorism threat.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.”

“Granted, but it’s also reality. I’ve seen surveillance details issued for nothing more than comments just like that one.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, honey, and leave it at that.”

“Thanks, because I know I’ll be having this same conversation with Evan and Michelle when they get here.”

“I just wish you could see what we see.”

“I know, I know, we’re near the end of the world and all that stuff,” Declan replied with moderate sarcasm.

“Not the end of the world, but the end of the age and America isn’t mentioned specifically in any of the end times’ prophecies. You’ll see, all of this is happening according to an agenda. Just like the UN small arms treaty we signed and the global carbon tax that was passed, this amendment will pass too. Then, the presidency will eventually become essentially a lifetime appointment, and we’ll be one giant step closer to a dictatorship and, ultimately a single global government. The structure is already in place for a single currency, and with our national debt and the moves other nations are taking to replace the dollar as the reserve currency, that can’t be far off.”

“What, you mean the IMF currency thing?”

“Yes, they’ve had this plan in place and ready to replace the dollar for years. All we need is another major crisis, financial or otherwise, which I suspect we’ll see soon, and we’ll see that agenda rolled out.”

“Right, the global elite plan to control the world.”

“Don’t mock me, Declan Parker. This will happen. God told us how the story ends and Jesus himself gave us the signs to look for at the end of the age.”

“Sorry, mom, but seriously, where does the Bible talk about this stuff? Where does it say we’re going to have a one world government?”

“Revelation 13, and everything we’re seeing now, from this move to allow the President additional terms, to the bigger role of the UN, to the various financial and economic issues the world is still going through, to the problems in the Middle East, to the concerted push for even more gun control; it all falls right into place with what the Bible tells us about the end of the age and the generation leading up to the Tribulation.”

“Honestly, mom, I pretty much gave up on the Bible when dad died.”

“I don’t know why your dad had to die when he did, honey, but turning away from God isn’t the answer. We just have to trust God’s plan and our place in it.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see any plan.”

“You will. I just pray you see it before it’s too late.”

December 19
^th
and December 20
^th

After leaving his mom’s house, Declan again stopped and sat in his car down the street from David Stanton’s apartment building. He waited for a little over two hours; however, as had been the case that morning, there was no sign of, or movement by, Stanton.