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|The U.S. Economy Collapses in 2016|
Some people sensed it coming silently in 2016, like birds and animals sensing an imminent earthquake.
If only the political leaders were honest to their constituents, but the leaders did not want to start a panic The U.S. government was broke. Each year since the 2008 Financial Crisis, tax revenue collections kept decreasing. The U.S. government kept dumping massive amounts of cash into the economy, trying to resuscitate a dead economy, which was beyond resuscitation.
The leaders and politicians did not understand the fundamental problems with the economy. They did not want to reform the system. Thus, only a revolution could solve these problems, and could jumpstart the economy again.
The reason was simple. The U.S. legal system was sick. It did not encourage people to work hard, or build a successful business. If someone beat the odds, and started a successful business, then government regulators, tax inspectors, and scum-bag attorneys showed up, like schools of sharks, who thrashed out and bit anything that moved in the waters. Then once a shark tasted blood, the other sharks descended on the prey, devouring it alive.
The only place where a person had some protection from government was to work in the government.
Each year after the 2008 Financial Crisis, the economy became gradually worse. By 2015, the unemployment rate reached 20%, the Gross Domestic Product (GDP), a measure of the size of the U.S. economy, contracted again by 3%; the federal debt reached $20 trillion, and the Dow Jones was flat, hovering around 7,000 points. Real estate prices remained in free fall, and no investors wanted to hold the U.S. government debt.
Then 2016 arrived; hell released its fury upon the U.S. economy. The revolution was galloping towards us at a breakneck speed.
Prices were steadily dropping in the economy since 2008. Anyone with a job was becoming wealthier. However, finding a job in today’s economy was like finding a virgin in a whorehouse. It was a daunting and nearly impossible task.
Pete was on his way to work. As usual, he was addicted to gourmet coffees. He knew he should save money, but at least he did not smoke or drink or gamble. These fantastic coffees were a bright spot in his rather dull life. That first sip in the morning was like a smoker’s first puff of a cigarette in the morning, or a gambler’s high from his first pull of the lever on the slot machine.
Pete was a government worker, single, and thirty-five years old; his job was to hold a flag, cautioning drivers to slow down, as the crew worked on the roads and highways. He saved several thousand dollars in his bank account.
Pete saw his first surprise of the day, as he pulled up to the drive thru at ‘Coffees are Us.' He fished in his pocket for $2.50 for his cappuccino.
“Sir, may I help you,” a young, feminine voice asked politely.
“I will have a large cappuccino please,” Pete retorted politely, as his lips moistened in anticipation.
“That’ll be $3.03”
Two quarters fell from Pete’s fingers onto the truck’s floor, as he asked in complete disbelief, “What?”
The young voice replied firmer with undertones of irritation wavering in her voice, “Sir that will be $3.03!”
Pete pulled around to the pickup window, and then asked, “I was paying $2.50 for that same coffee. Why is it over $3.03 now?”
“Sir; I do not know why. The regional manager came in today and raised all the prices.”
Pete managed to scrounge up the extra money for his coffee by fishing more money out of this pocket, and collecting those quarters off the floor.
Pete handed the barista his money, and snatched the coffee away from her. He usually said thank you, but not today. The higher price definitely irritated him. If prices kept going up, then he will cut back on his gourmet coffees, the one bright spot of his day.
Pete took the first sip. He felt a little lightheaded, and his irritation started to melt away.
Then he put the car in drive, and pulled onto the street.
As Pete drove to work, he noticed prices were higher everywhere else. He drove by Cheap-o-Gas, and saw gas was $3.94 per gallon for the lowest octane. Yesterday, it was $3.25 per gallon.
Americans complained about the higher prices, but they did not give it much thought, even when prices kept creeping upward.
A week later, Pete made his first morning stop at Coffees are Us.
He pulled up to the drive through, and bluntly asked, “How much for a cappuccino?”
The girl replied, “$3.67.”
He paused for a second, thinking about the higher price.
The girl asked, “Would you like a cappuccino?”
Pete inquired, “No; how much for a small regular coffee?”
“I will take a small coffee with extra cream, please,” Pete responded mechanically with his voice devoid of emotion.
Pete could not believe it, because he was actually drinking regular coffee again. There was no way in hell; he was going to pay $3.67 for a cappuccino, even if the barista was completely naked, and added a free lap dance.
Little did Pete know, but this was only the beginning. Price increases accelerated.
At the end of the month, that price for cappuccino was $7.93, and by the end of the year, that same cappuccino was $5,500 per cup.
At the end of the year, that one gallon of gas became an astounding $71,586 per gallon.
Hyperinflation struck the U.S. economy, like a lightning bolt striking and destroying a healthy oak tree. The inflation rate accelerated to 1,000% per year, becoming a ravenous cancer coursing through an already sick body. The U.S. economy began to collapse.
Many people like Pete gave up.
Although Pete still had a job, his salary lagged severely behind inflation. His salary rose to $300,000 per annum. Ole boy! He could buy 55 cappuccinos, or four gallons of gas. The high inflation robbed Pete of his wealth and hard work.
One day Pete stopped working, and did not even bother to pick up this last paycheck. The cost of gasoline vastly exceeded that meager paycheck.
Pete packed all his possessions into two suitcases, and placed all his camping gear into a backpack.
Pete was fleeing his apartment, because his rent had risen to astronomical, incomprehensible numbers, and he was already a month’s rent behind.
Pete carried and placed all his worldly possessions into the back of the truck, and left his apartment, leaving the front door wide open.
He pulled onto Highway 59 and headed out into the country with a half a tank of gas.
As Pete drove out of the city, he noticed that every other business was shut down and boarded up, and thousands upon thousands of homeless people meandered along the streets.
The homeless was everywhere, and walked along the streets like zombies, begging for food. Homeless camps formed under bridges, and on vacant lots, as they scrounged wood, cardboard boxes, and old tires to make themselves a home. These homes had no running water, waste disposal, or electricity, but that was all the homeless can do.
They had no jobs, no money, and thus no future. The homeless camps emanated a smell of death, rot, and misery, as they waited for God to call them home, ending their miserable existence on the earth.
Pete ran out of gas 10 miles outside of city limits. He abandoned his truck in the middle of the road, walked the rest of the way with a backpack on his back, and a suitcase in both hands.
He will live in the country and live off the land. Maybe someday, he will return to civilization, when the chaos was over.
The hyperinflation devastated the U.S. economy. The unemployment rate rapidly climbed to 50%, and the whole middle class was shoved into abject, despicable poverty.
The U.S. dollar became worthless. Many people dumped their money onto the streets, because a one- dollar bill could not even buy a stick of gum.
Everybody was hurting, except the super rich and the politicians.
The U.S. banking system also collapsed during 2016. If anyone had money in a bank, then their savings became worthless overnight.
Fixed bank loans also became worthless overnight. Homeowners could pay their fixed-rate mortgages with worthless dollars, but all the banks were closed, and they could not accept payments for loans.
Jerrick’s National Workers’ Party grew fast overnight, as membership rose to 1.5 million members.
Jerrick decided to close membership, because he had enough party members to fill the major offices of government.
Jerrick ,however, was facing fierce competition. It was not the Republicans or Democrats. Many Americans gave up on those two political parties years ago. If anything, those two parties were responsible for the mess that we were in today.
Jerrick’s competition was more serious, and his competition was gaining fast.
His competitor was Benjamin Gitlow, founder of the American Communist Party.
Benjamin Gitlow was sitting at his desk, while Shostakovich‘s Fifth Symphony played softly in the background.
On the wall behind him, a large red communist flag drooped downward. The flag almost spanned the whole wall like wallpaper. In the center of the flag was the infamous golden sickle and hammer, forming an X - the symbol of the Soviet Union, and how the government cares for the workers.
Benjamin was a short, stocky man with dark, sunken eyes with short, black curly hair. Sometimes he wore glasses that make his eyes bigger, so people would not think he was a raccoon, a bandit in disguise.
Benjamin was a former finance professor at a small college in Texas. He was very good at it, until the university laid him off in 2011.
Benjamin glanced at his PhD diploma that hung on the adjacent wall in his office. He sneered at it, as bad memories drifted into his mind.
He remembered the day the university laid him off.
The reason was many students dropped out of college. The students were pessimistic about the economy, and their future job prospects; they did not want to waste that money on excessively high tuition.
Most parents did not have the money to pay for their children’s tuition. Instead, they had to pay for the mortgage and food. Life’s necessities outweighed the prestige of a college diploma.
In normal times, Benjamin Gitlow would find another job, because finance was a hot major. However, after 2008, no one studied finance anymore.
Thus, Ben could not find another teaching job in his field anywhere. Further, he could not find a job in anything, not even collecting aluminum cans along a highway. Hordes of homeless people were already doing that.
Ben did a complete 180 degrees. He hated business, and all its representations. The antithesis of business was communism. He devoured Karl Marx’s Das Kapital, and began disseminating its teachings to the public.
Although Benjamin Gitlow was fat and not very attractive, some may even say downright ugly, he had a large, booming voice that emanated intelligence.
The destitute, homeless, and disenfranchised were flocking to his party.
On Ben’s desk laid a newspaper. On the front page was a picture of his nemesis, Jerrick Davis.
Jerrick was Benjamin’s roadblock to power. If Jerrick could be eliminated, then he could take over.
As the classical Soviet music soothed his troubled mind, he began thinking of ways to rid himself of his enemy, and plan for the communists takeover of the United States.
General Ninian Edwards was sitting at his desk. He was general of the United States Army Forces Command (FORSCOM) at Fort McPherson, Georgia.
General Edwards was the poster child of a general.
The General was a natural leader, and commanded respect. If he was in public and out of uniform, people still respected him. He never had to shout at people or soldiers. Everyone automatically obeyed him, and never interrupted him when he spoke.
Staff Sergeant Ralph Brumitt abruptly entered his office, disturbing the General's thoughts.
“Sir; we found some more of these pamphlets,” the sergeant said, as he placed the pamphlets on the General’s desk.
The general glanced down at the pamphlets. They were for the National Workers’ Party. Jerrick Davis was going to speak next Friday night in East Point, Georgia.
“Do you know anything about this Davis character?”
“Only that some of our soldiers support him. Jerrick Davis promises to put Americans back to work again. He also talks about building an empire, and expanding the empire to the south.”
“Not another one of those.”
“Sir; I do not understand.”
“No, no; I was just thinking out loud, Sergeant.”
The General paused, and then asked, “Sergeant, how does he plan to put Americans back to work?”
“Davis wants to bring the factory jobs back to America.”
“The factory jobs?”
“Yes, the factory jobs. They pay well sir.”
“Thank you; you are dismissed sergeant.”
The sergeant quickly snapped his heels together, and saluted the general. Then he left the general’s office, quietly shutting the door behind him.
General Edwards relaxed by putting his feet on his desk and tilting back on his chair. The general started to think about Jerrick. He could relate to Jerrick Davis in one detail, the factory jobs.
The general grew up in a small Virginia town. He remembered the textile factory closing in 1999. Then times became hard there. Then a couple of years later, everyone was making a killing off the real estate market. That escapade ended in 2008. Now everyone was hurting everywhere in the country. Jobs were disappearing off the face of the earth.
His parents still lived in that small Virginia town. He sent them money until the money became worthless.
Now, he ships them containers of army food, building a cache of food. Once the army stops feeding him and his soldiers, he probably will desert the army in the middle of the night, and join his parents. At least, they have plenty of food to survive during this crisis.
The General hated to think like this, because he spent his whole life in the army. The army was his adopted family, but those damn politicians in Washington. They screwed everything up.
The soldiers were demoralized and fatigued from 15 years of war. President Bush started the War in Afghanistan in 2001 and the War in Iraq shortly after. We claimed victory in 2003, but we were still there. Soldiers were still coming back in pine boxes.
How was there a victory, when soldiers were still dying? Why are we still fighting war on two fronts?
Then each year, Congress reduced the military’s budget. Each year, politicians in Washington asked the military to do more with fewer resources.
The military’s resources were stretched razor thin.
President Charles Gibson initiated the first draft since the Vietnam War in 2013, because we were losing too many soldiers in the wars, and riots erupted in the large cities.
The general ran around the towns, making sure teenagers were signing up for Selective Service. Then if they were selected, the general made sure the teenagers came to a military recruiting station.
Many youths rebelled, and refused to come in. Consequently, the military was wasting resources just building internment camps for rebellious young men, who refused their duty to their country.
Now we had the hyperinflation in 2016. The soldiers’ pay was reduced to nothing. Their monthly salaries could not even buy a soda at the store.
The soldiers became so demoralized that some fled during the night.
The general tripled his staff for base security. The security was not to keep the outsiders out, but to stop his soldiers from deserting during the darkness of the night.
The general could not blame them, but those soldiers were needed to protect America. Their first and primary duty was to their country. Everything else came second.
The general planted his feet back onto the floor, and a large grimace swept across his face. He never saw, such a deplorable state of the troops. If a major crisis broke out, the general may not even be able respond to it.
Then the general picked up a pamphlet from the National Workers’ Party. He carefully read it, then dropped it back into the pile with the other pamphlets.
Next, he shoved the whole stack of pamphlets into the trashcan next to his desk.
The pamphlets fell into the trashcan like an avalanche, making its way down the mountain.
The general clicked a button on the intercom, and said, “Sergeant, please have Captain Erickson from the intelligence division meet with me ASAP!” Then he clicked the intercom off before the sergeant responded.
Jerrick was in East Point, Georgia, on December 4, 2016.
He received a strange note. As he opened the letter, command stripes for an army general fell to the ground. The note said, ‘Meet me at 9:00 at Mad Murphy’s. It is a small bar on the outskirts of town. Come alone, and don’t be late.'
Jerrick showed Dan the note, and stripes, and asked, “What do you think Dan?”
Dan examined the stripes in detail, turning them over in his hands at various angles, and replied, “I do not know; it could be a setup. The U.S. government knows who you are. You may be shot in an ‘attempted robbery.'”
Dan emphasized the words, ‘attempted robbery’ by holding up his hands, and using his fingers to form double quotation marks.
“I know, but that is one of the reasons I chose to speak in towns with Army and Air Force bases. I am trying to appeal to our soldiers. We need the soldiers on our side.”
“I know, but buddy; you are pissing off the wrong people.”
“Well as Lenin said, ‘You can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs. "
“But I think the government wants to break you,” Dan bellowed seriously.
Later, that night despite protests from Jerrick’s top leadership, Jerrick decided to meet this stranger alone. He knew it was not a strange woman trying to hook up with him. Women usually sprayed perfume on the letter, and planted a luscious, red, lipstick kiss on the envelope, imbuing a mysterious aura of future hot passion.
Jerrick arrived early and walked into the bar, and glanced around. He saw the bar only had six patrons.
Jerrick sat at a booth in the back, far corner.
The waitress came by, “What can I get you?”
“I will take a beer, on the tap, please.”
The waitress asked suspiciously, “How do you plan to pay?”
Jerrick reached in his pocket, and pulled out a thick wad of cash. All the bills had at least six zeros on it.”
“Hon; that money will not do you any good in here. What kind of commodities do you have?”
Jerrick reached in his other pocket, and pulled out a new box of cigarettes, Winston’s to be exact.”
“That pack will buy you two beers.”
“Okay, please bring them.”
Jerrick did not smoke, but after the hyperinflation, nobody accepted money anymore. The almighty U.S. dollar became fancy toilet tissue. Small valuable objects like cigarettes became their weight in gold. Gasoline was also precious, but Jerrick did not like carry it with him, because of the pungent smell.
The waitress brought two brews, and sat one brew in front of Jerrick, and the other one at the empty seat directly across from him.
Several minutes later, a guy with a grizzly beard popped down quickly into the empty seat across from Jerrick.
The guy appeared to be a homeless man, coming in to snatch that unattended beer.
However, Jerrick noticed the guy’s physique and strong eyes. He could tell this guy was in shape with firm lean muscles beneath those rags of clothes.
Then Jerrick looked into the guy’s eyes. His eyes were strong and commanded respect. Jerrick knew this guy gave orders; he did not receive them.
The guy asked, “Are you expecting company?”
“Yes, I was waiting for you?”
“I take it this beer is for me?”
The guy swallowed a large gulp of the tasty beer. The army may still feed him, but he did not have a beer in months.
The guy drank another swig before sitting the beer back down, and said, “We have a mutual friend, Richard. He recommended that I speak with you. So, Jerrick; how do you plan to save America?”
Jerrick spoke for 15 minutes, laying out his plans about rebuilding America and creating an Empire.
The guy listened intently.
Occasionally, Jerrick paused and glanced around, making sure nobody was eavesdropping. Jerrick stayed away from particulars, but outlined a generic version of this plan.
“Very interesting, but how do you actually plan to seize the government?”
Jerrick sat back, and stared at the guy, searching his intuition. Sometimes, when something bad was going to happen, he would get a funny sensation. Today, his mental radar was silent.
Jerrick knew, if he spilled his plans in front of the secret police, he would be arrested and executed for treason. Of course, this person knew the first name of one of his secret contacts in the federal government.
Jerrick knew Richard Woodland was very careful, and Richard was sending an important person from the military to speak with Jerrick.
“Waitress,” Jerrick hollered, “Please bring us another round.”
Jerrick fished in his pocket for the other pack of cigarettes.
Then Jerrick faced the guy, and replied, “Operation Troyka.”
The guy asked, “Operation Troyka?”
“Operation Troyka has three parts, Power, Communication, and Seizure,” Jerrick began.
Jerrick went into detail about every piece of Troyka, taking over 20 minutes to explain all the details.
The guy listened with his full concentration.
Finally, the guy spoke, “Your plan could work. However, I can only guarantee five Army bases and about 200,000 soldiers. But if your plan does not work, then we could plunge our country into a bloody civil war.”
“I know, but I am willing to risk that chance. If we do not do something now, those bastards in Washington will turn our country into a third-world country. "
The guy asked, “I agree. Those bastards in Washington put us into a bad spot. How do we plan to stay in communication?”
Jerrick reached into his coat, and pulled out two satellite cell phones, and added, ‘One cell phone was mine. I will give the other one to you.”
Then Jerrick slid the cell phone to the guy.
Jerrick continued, “I have a computer specialist, who put a special chip in these phones. She told me it was virtually impossible to decrypt any phone conversation without those chips.”
The guy took the phone, slipped it into his pocket, and muttered, “I see; you got your hands on some military encryption-decryption chips.” He knew the military and CIA can decrypt their conversation, but it could take a supercomputer a week or two to decrypt.
“Did you have a date in mind to start Operation Troyka?”
“Yes, Thursday, July 27, 2017.”
“Why that particular date?”
“Scientists are forecasting an extremely hot day for that day.”
“It will be a very hot day indeed.”
The guy finished his second beer, and said, “Thanks for the beer.”
He stood up, and turned to leave.
“See you later,” Jerrick said.
Jerrick’s plans were actually coming to fruition. He set a date for his acquisition of power. July 27, 2017 will be a very hot day indeed. The meteorologists have no idea how hot that day will be.
The next night, Jerrick delivered his speech in East Point, Georgia to a crowd of fifty thousand people.
The people were homeless, and happened to be around in the area.
The skies were overcast, and the temperature hovered above the freezing mark.
As Jerrick drove up to the back entrance of the auditorium, he saw large crowds of people, waiting to get inside.
Some people were well dressed, while others were covered in dirt and grime. Jerrick’s message was appealing to all the people, not just one social class.
Jerrick’s security helped direct the crowd, keeping the road clear for Jerrick, and his political party.
One homeless man wore a dark-brown hat, and a dirty green flannel jacket. His face was blackened by the years of homelessness, and decades of beard growth. It was impossible to tell his race, but the whites of his eyes shown through all those years of misery. The man’s eyes brightened up, as he saw Jerrick’s car drive by.
The homeless man shouted, “Jerrick! Jerrick! Jerrick! …”
The rest of the crowd picked up the cue, and joined the chorus.
The crowd was already shouting Jerrick’s name, and Jerrick had not even said a word yet.
As the car drove by the homeless man, Jerrick could see the homeless man’s face brighten up and hope glinted in his eyes.
If this homeless guy had a warm shower, new clothes, and a job, he would be a hard working, tax-paying citizen again. Unfortunately, the U.S. legal system tossed this guy to the side, as if he were a sack of garbage.
Jerrick stood on the auditorium stage behind the curtain. He heard the raucous sounds of thousands in the audience.
As he poked his head through the tall, golden drapes and walked to the stage’s center, the crowd started cheering.
Jerrick waited for the crowd to become silent. Then he started his speech,
The information economy was a scam.
The politicians knew we were losing our good-paying factory jobs.
They dreamt up this idea that high-paying jobs would become plentiful.
These jobs dealt with information and high technology.
Let’s analyze that!
Name a high-tech industry?
Hmmmmm, the internet.
Where are our computers made?
In Asia like China, Malaysia, and Taiwan.
Where are the computer parts made like memory and processors?
In Asia too!
Who writes the programs that run on these computers?
American corporations outsource these jobs to people in India, China, and Russia.
If you have trouble with your computer or trouble with your internet connection, whom do you call?
The American corporations route your phone calls and emails to call centers in India.
You get broken Hindi English as a response.
When you pay for your computer and internet services, where does your money go?
The money goes to the American Corporations.
The CEOs and high-ranking corporate officials pay themselves high salaries and extravagant benefits.
They pat themselves on the back for a job well done.
Some of the money flows to Asia.
They pay the workers slave wages in the corporate work camps.
Then they pay the corrupt politicians their cut.
The corrupt politicians are the key to the process.
They could have changed the laws at any time to stop this insanity.
The crowd began to roar; they shouted in unison with their voices rising in a crescendo, “Jerrick! Jerrick! Jerrick! …”
Jerrick stretched his hands out, and the shouting crowd became silent. He was the master orator. He could seduce the crowd, and command them to follow him.
Jerrick continued his speech.
The politicians and CEOs tell you that outsourcing and international trade are good for our economy.
They can offer their services for cheap prices.
That is all true.
But, how can people pay for these services, if they have no jobs?
The crowd began to shout Jerrick’s name again, even louder.
Jerrick paused until the shouting stopped.
You are unemployed with no job.
You sleep on a park bench and dig through the garbage for remnants of food.
Then you beg and scrounge up a couple of dollars.
And pay those bastards at the corporations to surf the internet.
At least, the service is cheap!
The crowd’s shouting intensified, “Jerrick! Jerrick! Jerrick! …” Then it quickly died down.
Jerrick continued his speech.
The information economy is a ruse.
Economies throughout any civilization are all the same.
First, people and businesses produce, then they consume the fruits of their labor.
Production creates incomes that consumers can buy their own production.
Somewhere down the line, it became profitable for businesses to outsource.
To relocate our factories to developing countries.
Our political and business leaders transformed our economy into a nation of consumers.
The problem is where do the incomes come from to sustain consumer spending?
Their solution was for government, and the people to run up a mountain of debt.
Now, we hit our debt limit.
That is why our economy is in shambles.
Only a radical change to our legal system can we get production going again.
All those bastards in government need to be demoted, and tossed out into streets as yesterday’s garbage.
The crowd was in an uproar again. They were shouting Jerrick’s name so loudly, people could hear the shouting from miles away.
Jerrick continued his speech for another 15 minutes. Unknown to Jerrick, he was on the U.S. government’s watch list. Several agents were in the crowd, and they disguised themselves as protesters. They joined the chorus of chants, but they were also recording everything for the government.
President Charles Gibson sat behind his desk in the Oval Office in the Whitehouse. He was lost into deep thought. He knew he had a problem. Both Ben Gitlow’s and Jerrick Davis’s popularity were growing fast.
President Gibson pondered his choices. The President could have them assassinated, but the public would know better. This was adding gasoline to a campfire. Riots could erupt in the cities, as people struck back at their government. Besides, democracies should not be murdering their citizens because of their political view.
The other alternatives were either to arrest them and place them in an interment camp for inciting a riot, or trump up criminal charges against them, and toss them into a cold dank prison cell, cutting them off from the world.
President Gibson pressed a button on his desk phone, and said, “Please send in Agent Richard Woodland.”
A few minutes later, the door to the Oval Office opened up, and Richard walked through.
“Please give us a couple of minutes,” the President said to his staff.
The staff collected their things, and briskly left the office.
“Please have a seat,” the President said, gesturing with his hand for Richard to sit on a chair near the fireplace.
President Gibson sat in the opposite seat. He pressed a button on a remote control, turning off the surveillance camera and tape recorder.
“This Jerrick Davis is starting to worry me,” the President began.
“I know; the people really like him,” Richard said coldly, devoid of emotion.
“What do you think is a good course of action?”
“We could neutralize him, but there could be complications!”
“Complications; what do you mean?
“The CIA and FBI have Jerrick under surveillance for the last couple of years. He seems to have a sixth sense. We believe he has a team of computer hackers who are hacking into our computer systems. But he never contacts them directly. Jerrick always seems to know where we are. Plus, we think Jerrick may have doubles. "
“Doubles? This guy thinks he’s a dictator already.”
“It gets better”
The President’s interest intensified, as he said, “Better?”
“We think some of our own agents have been compromised. Many agents and government workers believe our government is doomed. And that Jerrick is the only one that can save us. These agents and government workers are secretly sending Jerrick information. We intercepted a couple of e-mails, but we could never identity the source. An agent goes to a coffee shop, uses the free Wi-Fi, sends an email using his netbook, and leaves, slipping the netbook inside his jacket. The agents use untraceable email accounts once. Two months ago, we almost caught an agent, because he kept using the same email account. However, we traced the account access to a large mall. By the time we got there, the agent blended into the crowd, and was gone.”
The President asked, “What if we arrested Jerrick?”
“We could. Jerrick is violating hundreds of federal statutes. We could have a federal prosecutor charge Jerrick with wire fraud, tax evasion, inciting a riot, and so on. It would take Jerrick years to fight these allegations, but his supporters would know. His supporters could incite a riot.”
The President leaned forward, tucking his thumbs under his chin and cupping his hands like a prayer. The President was not praying, but this was how he liked to ponder deeply. This Jerrick was really turning into a pain in the ass. The President thought he could squash Jerrick like a bug, but now it was like catching a bullet with your teeth.
The President leaned back, and asked, “What if we brought Jerrick on board, and gave him a high position in government?”
“I do not think Jerrick would want it. Jerrick wants your job, Sir; I believe Jerrick is honest about reforming the government and creating an empire. The people probably would have given Jerrick all the power to reform our government, but that empire stuff scares them. When people think of empires, they think of Hitler, Mussolini, and Stalin.”
“I see; then find a federal prosecutor, and trump up some charges against Jerrick. Make sure some of the crimes are tax related. That way, Jerrick does not get a jury trial. Then we can put him in prison for a while. We can shut him up, and dismantle his political party, member by member.”
Richard stirred a little, ready to get up, and start his new mission.
The President continued, “Richard, please stay. I have another mission for you.”
Richard relaxed again in the chair.
“What do you know about Benjamin Gitlow?”
“Benjamin Gitlow’s real name is Frank Gitlow. He may be the great-grandson of Benjamin Gitlow, the famous socialist who was arrested in New York in the 1920s. Frank legally changed his name to Benjamin, and became the leader of the Communist Party. He was a college professor before he lost his job. He is a loud mouth, and not a bad public speaker.”
“Do you think he poses a threat?”
“It is a long shot, but yes. If something happened to Jerrick Davis, then the people could turn to Gitlow. But, it is hard to say. The people do not like the idea that the government owns all the property. Americans owning property is embedded into their psyche. Owning property is as American as apple pie.”
“Okay. Then it’s settled. See to it that Gitlow is neutralized.”
Both men stood up.
“Thank you Mr. President,” Richard said and turned to leave the Oval Office.
The President clicked a button on the remote, turning on the camera and tape recorder again. Then he walked back to his desk to sit down.
The President was happy that Richard Woodland was gone. Those cold blue eyes gave him the creeps, but Richard was useful, and expendable. He proved himself thousands of times since his days as a sniper in the army and as an agent in Homeland Security.
A couple of days later, Jerrick was back in Michigan at the safe house, sitting at his desk.
His notebook computer was on, and opened right in front of him. He was busy typing his next speech.
Jerrick wanted to improve his style and deliverance. Occasionally, he paused, and opened video clips of his previous speeches. He studied his gestures, the way he articulated his words, and how he developed rapport with his audience.
Jerrick did not want to be good. He wanted to be the best. He wanted to be recorded in history, as one of the most powerful men to walk the earth, and stand proudly with the other giants of humanity.
A small TV was on the bookshelf, broadcasting CNN News. The volume was turned down low, but just enough to hear it.
If an interesting story came on, Jerrick could quickly turn it up using the remote on his desk.
Several words caught Jerrick’s attention.
“…was shot today…”
Jerrick quickly grabbed the remote, turning the volume up.
A news reporter continued with her story, “Benjamin Gitlow was fatally shot today in an apparent carjacking.”
The screen then veered towards the crime scene. Gitlow’s blue Nissan Altima was stalled at an intersection. A dozen police cars were surrounding it. The driver’s car door was wide open, and viewers could easily see the blood splotches on the seat and head rest.
Another reported asked, “Do the police know who did it?”
“No; they believe it was a failed carjacking. It appeared Mr. Gitlow tried to fight his attackers.”
“Is this the same Benjamin Gitlow, who is president of the American Communist Party?”
“Yes, the police do believe it is the same person, but this shooting is not politically motivated.”
Jerrick was enthralled, and his mouth hung wide open.
Then Jerrick mumbled, “Bullshit!” under his tongue, “Not politically motivated.”
His special satellite phone started to ring. This cell phone encrypts and decrypts any voices and text messages. If anyone intercepted his transmission, they would get garbled static.
Jerrick gave only a handful of these phones to some very important people.
Jerrick quickly snatched the phone, and answered it, saying, “Hello.”
“Mr. Davis, I will be brief. The government plans to arrest you. Protect yourself, and go into hiding.”
Then Jerrick heard a click, as the caller hung up.
Jerrick knew this is no joke, because he recognized the caller’s voice, a high-ranking agent, named Richard Woodland, or should he say a double agent.
How could Jerrick be so stupid? Apparently, the government murdered Benjamin Gitlow, and Jerrick was definitely next.
Jerrick saved his speech, and turned his laptop off, packing it away in his briefcase.
Jerrick decided to go underground. He will confer with the top members of his party about increasing security and his protection. Jerrick waited for a lifetime for his revolution. There was no way he was going to miss it.
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