Chapter One

Their meeting was classified TOP SECRET level security clearance. No one outside the President’s secret service was to know either of the two men had ever met each other. It was early in the President’s first term, and any radical change was null and void until he had the power of the people behind him…but that takes time (and a second term)…and considering the current government he was working “with,” that meant lots of feints and counter feints.

Assange was escorted in. The president studied him and let the moment linger. The irony of this gaunt, ghostly (dangerous) white man plotting with the first black president amused him.

“So you’re the sixteen-year-old kid who hacked the Department of Defense in ‘86. Props.”

“I was just showing off,” replied Assange. “It was a piece of cake, but I hope it helped you yanks realize how vulnerable the USA was at the time.”

“’Just showing off’…like Matthew Broderick in War Games?” The President smiled. “I like that. I’m a fan of your work. Did you know what the future held for you?”

“Well, when I got inside your database, I thought I might find some good gossip or exciting spy stories. What I did see scared the bejeezus outta me. For two months, your private history became my addiction with an adrenaline rush I couldn’t kick. During that time I rarely slept, and when I did, my dreams were full of FBI agents kicking down my door or ‘accidents’ taking my life. You were supposed to be the good guys, but your secret memos read more like you were amoral strategists, sponging techniques from all your enemies to use against them…while improving upon them.”

“Some of us, yes,” admitted the President. “There are still plenty of cowboys that like to play rough, but never admit to it publicly…except Dick Cheney.”

“The only endgame I could think of was to come clean and be as humble as possible, hoping they would take pity on a silly teenager. It was a huge relief when they really just wanted to know how I did it. They even offered me a job.”

“Why didn’t you take it?” the President asked.

“I was traumatized. I kept thinking, ‘you guys are liars, you’re pulling the biggest scam job the world has ever seen.’ At that point, there was nothing I could do about it. I even considered suicide.”

“You would rather die than fight?”

“You were young once. How did you feel when you found out who really killed the Kennedy’s and Martin Luther King…or did you not learn that until you took office?”

“Oh no, my Dad was CIA. He hipped me as a teenager and yes, it was hard on me. I was six when they shot Martin. It was awful enough having your hero killed by a racist redneck, but to find out he was aided and abetted by the ‘good guys’ was…devastating.”

“Helplessness. That sums up being young with too much knowledge,” waxed Assange. “What’s the point of living a lie? It took years of meditation and reading before I stumbled upon the Pentagon Papers Supreme Court ruling, and I had an epiphany: I don’t have to fight them. All the world needs is an easily accessible Ellsberg who will publish what the mainstream media can’t and won’t. I found my purpose in life and I was off and running.”

“I read about what you did in Africa,” said the President. “When I realized you were that kid from ’86, I got goose bumps.”

“It was awesome. I felt I could finally do something.”

“Me too…and that’s why I wanted to see you.”