Chapter Sixteen

“Is this line secure Mr. President?” Assange sounded frazzled.

“Hard to believe with your celebrity status that it could be,” said the President, “but my people assure me it is. Everything ok?”

Assange took a longer breath than normal, “as well as it can be, but I can’t help but feel as if I’m running on borrowed time. Great Britain is about to sell me out to the Swedes, Australian parliament is blocking me from running for office and I’m supposed to just take it in stride.”

“Remember the power of the martyr.” chimed the President.

“Aye, so long as he has the media with him,” Assange grumbled. He was nervous. Vaughan’s compound had been such a peaceful reprieve from everyday life, it felt awkward to be back in the throws of the unknown. “I can’t help but feel abandoned by my fellow journalists after they blamed me for any trouble that came their way.”

“Two words: catty bitches.” Assange could hear the President’s smile thru the phone. “They love you for the dirt you dug up, but they hate you for getting it to the public first. Trust the path you’ve chosen. Maybe you’ll get a taste of how Jesus felt…”

“ ‘Thrice before the cock crows,’ and maybe more if this keeps getting delayed.” Assange paused. “Any good news?”

“I enjoyed your show on RT,” said the President, “it’s already a vice of mine, and it may be even more detrimental than my Marlboro Reds. Free speech is becoming hazardous to your health around here. Did you notice the banks still playing the same games that got them in trouble before?”

“ ‘Spare the rod, spoil the rich kids.’ Isn’t that how it goes nowadays? I can only assume that’s playing into your plans…”

“I’m working on a new possibility.” The President took a breath. “Historically, when the market fails, you shore up the banks and let them fix their mistakes. It’s taken three years to find out that no longer works. They played me in the first month of my administration, and if they think I’ll be played again, they will experience something else.”

“…like?” asked Assange.

“What if,” the President paused, “the money we would normally supply the system with in times of crisis, we shared with the People? What would happen if the USA gave grants and loans to those who couldn’t afford their mortgage instead of the banks?”

“First and foremost, you would be THE MAN,” answered Assange. “The People would love you even more, but I would worry about certain power-hungry, fat cats becoming angry at being cut out of the equation.”

“True,” continued the President, “even though that money would still go to the banks, they might feel…under appreciated…but it would certainly help our accountability.”

“…and your popularity,” said Assange. “I think it’s as bold a move as executive order #11110, so watch your back.”

“If you think that’s bold, what do you think about a total overhaul of government pensions?” asked the President.

“You’re going there?” Assange gasped. “Wow Mr. President. I thought you were moderate. That sounds like borderline revolution.”

“Well, it may not be necessary if we can get some transparency in regards to where the money is going, but the People have to want it.”

“ ‘Follow the money.’ If only it were that easy,” Assange thought for second, “but if another crisis happens…”

“Then it might be time to roll out the big guns,” said the President, “if by ‘big guns’ I mean…‘a lifting of the veil.’ ”

Chapter Fifteen

“I’m sorry old boy, but I’ve held out at long as my sanity will allow. You’ve got to go.” Vaughan Smith had tears in his eyes. His home Ellingham Hall in Norfolk, England had been Assange’s sanctuary from political persecution for nearly a year. “I thought I could stomach it, as I believe in what you are doing. Prannie understood in the beginning, but month after month of fending off reporters and paparazzi has taken its toll. The prank phone calls were funny at first, but now they’re hourly, on every phone we own. Our spam filters don’t block death threats and we’ve been hacked so much we considered unplugging ourselves from the world…but we don’t need to if you’re not here.”

“I understand mate.” Assange smiled. “Fish and visitors stink after three days, let alone three hundred, and what I brought to the table was already rotten.”

Vaughan’s eyes leaked as he maintained his gaze. “You are not rotten, you are the truth. You are what the world needs and wants. I will continue to help however I can, but if I want my marriage to last, I have to pass the baton for now. Prannie believes in you too, but when ideology and reality are set upon a mother’s scale, children tip the balance.”

“Rightly so. Your family is one-of-a-kind Vaughan. I’ve written you in my will to pay you back when the time comes.”

Vaughan wiped his tears away with shaking hands and held them out to Assange. “Then stay alive chap. I want you to see what you’ve accomplished when it all plays out. You deserve to witness the fruition of your work. The dominoes are falling as we speak, and the world is ready for this regardless of the governments who are scared shitless of their own shadows.”

“As well they should be.” Assange took his hands in his own. “Thank you brother. Your hospitality and understanding are only surpassed by your sustainable farming that tastes so good.” They embraced as if it was the last time they would see each other.

“You’re not so bad for an Aussie.” Vaughan’s voiced hitched and his eyes kept leaking.

Assange winked. “And you’re not so bad for a wanker.”

Chapter Fourteen (there will be no chapter 13 for the USA)

“You are boggling my mind with your political deftacity sir,” Assange admitted, “although I am still waiting to hear you really ‘tell it like it is.’ I think you would be a smash hit amongst the youth and the baby boomers, and right now, they are embodying the ‘cool’ in politics.”

“We’re getting there.” The president enjoyed their conversation. “The rhetoric game has been going on too long in politics. Have you ever noticed that leaders get criticized for saying one thing and doing another?”

“Only obviously,” smirked Assange, “even you said in your campaign speeches you would ‘defend whistle blowers’ and seek ‘transparency.’ I trust you didn’t forget that.”

“Pardon my non-politically correct response but, ‘it ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings.’ I came into this job knowing you have to ‘dance with the devil’ to make anything happen. What you’ve seen so far is called the first term anchor. For sustainability, I had to plug the holes of the last administration’s leaky ship by paying for the mistakes of the banks, create trust within the status quo by giving them their precious top 1% tax cuts (further alienating them from the rest of the 99%) while keeping my constituents satisfied with meager change (even though they are clamoring for revolution) just so I can keep things from getting out of hand amongst the media and public opinion to keep my promises that couldn’t have been accomplished within the first term, so I can initiate greater change during my second and go down in history as one of the best presidents to have ever held the job…aka one hell of a cluster fuck.”

“I’ve never seen the GOP so toxic,” said Assange. “When you offered to work ‘with’ them, it was almost like you called them out on their stance of doing nothing to fix anything. If their only goal is to defeat you, they are telling the American people, ‘we’re not doing anything until this guy is out of office.’ That’s a back handed way of earning a paycheck for four years from US tax dollars.”

The President raised an eyebrow. “It’s what happens when politicians stop being politicians.”

Julian thought for a moment. “Speak on it, please.”

“For all the problems the Dems have with being bought out by the banks, the GOP was bought years ago. They are no longer accountable to their voters, they are accountable to their bank accounts. When you don’t govern based upon your ethics and your decisions are made for you by money…”

“…you’re just a cog in the machine, and no longer a politician.”

“And Bingo was his name-o.”

Julian looked awed. “Fuck me, the banks aren’t political strategists, they’re just money holders. How do they expect to win in politics when they can’t even balance wealth that’s not theirs?”

“Their aggressiveness is staggering, but I’m not the kind of guy who wants to call anyone out. It’s best to allow the People to find the truth on their own.”

“So when you took office and the financial fallout occurred a month later, it was basically the banks pulling some gangsta shit,” mused Assange.

“This is a stick up!” clowned the President. “Give us more money to cover the cost of our gambling debts or we’ll let the whole system fall apart during your term…and there will be CHAOS!”

“Riots, food shortages, raping and pillaging…wow. You could’ve just called their bluff though. Do you think America would’ve fallen apart?”

“No,” said the President, “we have too much good in us, but I didn’t want it to fall apart. I believe in the human race, and part of that is allowing the People to correct their mistakes and learn from them.”

“What if some people don’t want to fix their mistakes?” asked Assange. “What if some control freaks are so enamored with their own deception that they deceive themselves into believing they are bullet proof?”

“If it comes to that, the People will supply the bullets.”

Chapter Twelve

“Mark my words. It will not be six months before the world tests him like they did John Kennedy. We're about to elect a brilliant 47-year-old senator president of the United States of America. Remember I said it standing here, if you don't remember anything else I said. Watch, we're gonna have an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy.”
–Joe Biden, October 20, 2008

“Well, even though he made it look like a piece of cake, we got our money.” Rockefeller locked his hands behind his head and laid back in a leather recliner. “I gotta admit, I didn’t know if he would play ball or try to get ‘The People’ to rise up against us.”

Cheney grimaced. “He knew what was best for him. At least he’s not impulsive. We would’ve pulled out the big guns if he went rogue. Even he’s got dirt the public would find…distasteful.”

“For all the ‘hopey-changey’ liberals out there, the old racket still works.” Rockefeller smiled. “Thank God we were able to get all the laws changed in time to drop the bottom out of the market within his first month of office. Biden had the gall to compare him to Kennedy. He’s no Kennedy, this president knows his place.”

“Are we sure of that?” Cheney looked up beneath a frowning brow. “I get these premonitions of danger that almost lead to panic attacks. I’m still concerned that it isn’t yet safe.”

Rockefeller leaned forward and slapped him on the back. “Cheer up Dick! The duty you did for your country will be remembered, respected and protected by the right people for the rest of your life. I know you didn’t even think it was possible in the beginning, but this is peanuts compared to what you pulled off. He’s a lawyer, he knows better than to challenge us now.”

“How can we be sure?”

“In your entire lifetime, you’ve seen us win it all…everything…even when we didn’t know what we were doing half the time. We figured it out, whatever it took. That same logic applies now. No matter what anyone thinks they can do about it, we will win.”

Cheney let loose a long labored breath. “I don’t trust him. He has the feel of a martyr waiting for the right time to make penance.”

“Then we will use his martyrdom at the right time…or we’ll induce it.” Rockefeller winked. “Come on man, you’re the glue who held the ship together during ‘the greatest hoax ever pulled on the American people.’ Don’t tell me you’re getting spooked now.”

“There are new precedents in motion that are unsettling. Bradley Manning is being compared to Nelson Mandela. Julian Assange is getting a tv show.”

“On Russia Today right?” Rockefeller laughed. “Who’s going to believe RT propaganda? Putin’s compromised. Don’t give up on American pride, it’s kept us afloat since the beginning of our lives. Mom, apple pie, guns and butter…the GOP may be toxic, but the American flag isn’t.”

“Anonymous is gathering more and more members everyday.”

“I thought the FBI was running their ‘honey pot’ strategy with them like Al-Qaeda,” said Rockefeller. “It’s not working?”

“The problem is…hackers are not poor, broke and brown. They are often white, male and upper class. They also don’t have the sense of urgency that potential terrorists bring with them.”

“Hackers aren’t terrorists?” asked Rockefeller. “Isn’t that just a matter of changing some more laws?”

“Oh, they’ve been introduced,” said Cheney, “but they don’t carry the same fear that hash-eating, tower-toppling assassins bring to the minds of regular Americans.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of a way to change that.”

Chapter Eleven

“It’s not catching on quick enough,” Anonymous #3 said. “I thought we’d have regular whistle blowers uploading volumes by now. This trickle of info is just a tease. We need wolves to blow the house down.”

“Patience pet.” Assange was intense but gentle. “All in good time. Rome might’ve been destroyed in a day…”

“But it wasn’t,” said Anon #5, “three hundred years ago, historians decided it would be easier for students if world history were divided into three periods: Ancient, Medival, and Modern. They figured that 476—the year of Rome's last emperor—was a good date to use in marking the end of an epoch, but the selection of 476 was arbitrary.”

“Thanks for ruining my metaphor #5.”

“Well, accountability right?" #5 smiled, “like Obama?”

“My point is, we need real media figures to help pull public opinion. Most of them have gotten lazy on their steady paychecks and press conferences, but I trust that some still have a conscience. We also need members of the military, government and big business to legitimize our efforts, and that takes time…and bollocks. You can’t expect everyone to risk losing their careers no matter how much they would love to call their bosses out.”

“But you are actually risking your life,” swooned Anon #2. “and they’ve been monitoring you for years. You don’t think that gives us cause to speed things up a bit?”

Assange smiled, “Regardless of whatever scare tactics they use, stick to the plan. They will defame me, slander me, discredit me, call me a drama queen, a pissy bitch, a bloody bastard, a control freak, a rapist, a racist, a sexist, an egomaniac, a megalomaniac, a nymphomaniac…”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Anon #6 chuckled. “The pussy welcome wagon will beat down your door if they hear any of that stuff. Bring it on I say!”

“You’re such a boy Tina,” said Anon #3, “oops, I mean #6. You might get lucky on some sloppy seconds.”

Assange rolled his eyes. “Focus chaps. This is not an opportunity to get laid, this is world change.”

“I’m just saying, you know…perkies,” Anon #6 replied.

“How come we don’t just take out their mainframes?” Asked #4. “You’re not letting us use some of our true genius here. That would scare the monkey shite right out of ‘em. It might even get them angry enough to start a real war.”

“#4, I accept your anarchist beliefs, but if you’re going to ally yourself with me and mine, please accept my pacifism. Like Einstein said, ‘I am not only a pacifist but a militant pacifist. I am willing to fight for peace. Nothing will end war unless the people themselves refuse to go to war.’ I don’t want a war, I want evolution.”

“They won’t go down without a fight,” continued #4. “How about a little leeway for mischief?”

“Listen to the man.” Anon #1 was firm. “We’re all here because we believe in what he’s doing, and likewise because he inspired us to be what we are. I know it goes against many of your nature, but let’s try some trust. Strategy is about learning from history and not repeating it. We’re up against a power that understands that. We’ve got to match them and go beyond it to stand a chance. Let’s stick to the plan.”

“I’m always open to good ideas,” winked Assange, “but so far, albeit slowly, the sleeper is awakening.”

Chapter Ten

“Holy fuck, this guy’s got balls.” Cheney was aiming for pigeons now. He used his fingers as cross hairs and flicked popcorn at their heads. He was unsuccessful so far. The pigeons didn’t care.

“He’s got an ‘emergency’ list of leaks, just in case he or any of his staff is harmed,” Karl sneered. “He’s quite paranoid.” Cheney watched him. It felt weird. Karl was normally plain-faced and he was the one with a snarl. His Mom had been right. Keep making up your face that way and it’ll stay. A stroke he had a few years ago insured that, even though the doctors had done their best. He blamed W.

“He’s gotta be bluffing. He wouldn’t send out the encryption device to 100,000 people. That would be more for us to intercept.” Cheney waited.

“Stratfor wants to water board him for it.” Karl grinned. “Oh, the irony…that would make our circle complete.”

“Careful, if you strike him down now, you will make him more powerful than you can ever imagine Darth.” Cheney tried to smile and sneered. “It felt good to cow the president on ‘his’ torture policy, but I don’t know if we can use the same strategy here. Assange is a ‘clear and present danger’ according to Tom Clancy, but he’s civilized and accessible. His fan base is expanding too. The Brits are playing with us more than I’d like. Have we spent all our pressure over there yet?”

“Assange has more friends than we’d hoped. The Vaughan Smith safety haven was completely unexpected. He’s that guy who bluffed his way into an active-duty unit while disguised as a British Army officer to get the only uncontrolled footage from the Gulf War.”

“What an asshole.” Cheney twitched.

“Another folk hero, but it can’t last forever. We’ve got his family blacklisted, so it’s only a matter of time before his wife threatens divorce. Carl Bildt is working on the extradition from Sweden to the US as soon as his last appeal fails. He won’t even make it to trial. He’ll be met at customs by our people. Media won’t be allowed anywhere near the transaction.”

“The sooner the better. His calm is unnerving to me.” Cheney lined up another pigeon with a kernel. POW. He nailed it right between the eyes. The pigeon flew away. Another took it’s place.

“We’ve got another problem.” Karl waited.

“Go on.”

“FOX NEWS was doing great when the story broke. They had more anti-Assange statements than any other network. We even got a couple kill orders in…however…Murdoch is pissed at the President.”

Cheney rolled his eyes. “And?”

“Between some obvious editing mistakes FOX made and some bad press from the Daily Show and Colbert, his ratings have fallen off the map, so he figured he’d get some digs in on the current administration. Instead of crapping on Manning and Assange, he’s letting Judge Napolitano try their cases on his segment, and he’s calling them ‘heroes’ and ‘patriots’ based on the way the government is treating them for being ‘whistle blowers.’

Cheney shook his head. “Murdoch, you panicky bitch. Talk about ass-backwards. Is it that simple, or are there deeper developments?”

Karl took a breath. “When Judge Sam Kent ruled against Halliburton, we were able to expose his affairs pretty easily, but Napolitano is different. He’s got staying power, and the People are digging on him. If he decides to go on a crusade, it’s going to get obvious if we have to take him down.”

“He’s a ranter and a raver,” said Cheney, “I think he’s fit to ride the crazy train if necessary. Besides, ‘obvious’ doesn’t mean much anymore. The public is still too lethargic. They like to think they know what’s up, but never in my lifetime have they had the luxury. Why should I worry now?” He blasted another pigeon. “Right between the eyes.”

The pigeon flew away. Another took it’s place.

Chapter Eight

“We are engaged in an information war, and the United States is losing.” Hillary Clinton was pissed. “During the cold war, we did a great job of getting America’s message out. After the Berlin wall fell, we said fine, enough of that, we’ve done it…we’re done. Unfortunately, we’re not. Al-Jazeera is winning, Iran’s PressTV is winning, Russia Today is winning. The President just said, ‘we can’t allow ourselves to be out-communicated by our enemies.’ ”

“Do these alternative media really pose a threat to US interests?” asked a correspondent for DemocracyNOW!

“We’re the most technologically advanced nation in the world, and slowly but surely, we’ve been trying to take back the airwaves in Afghanistan from the Taliban with the most primitive kind of communication equipment. We weren’t very competitive, but we’ve worked our butts off to make any kind of progress. Meanwhile, these global networks have been literally changing people’s minds and attitudes, and like it or hate it, it is really effective. Al-Jazeera’s viewership has gone up in the United States because it’s real news. You may not agree with it, but you feel like you’re really getting relevant information around the clock instead of a million commercials and arguments between talking heads and the kind of stuff we do on our news that is not particularly informative to us, let alone foreigners.”

“Would you include WikiLeaks in that assessment of alternative media’s power over people?” asked a man from the Young Turks Network.

“Anything WikiLeaks publishes is now subject to federal investigation after they violated our statutes. I would likewise suggest you not believe everything you read,” said Clinton, “especially coming from them.”

“Is that a reference to the government cable where you instructed your ambassadors to effectively spy on foreign diplomats?” asked the same reporter.

“This is the information war,” said Clinton. “The United States may have lost that battle, but it’s not over yet.”