Date: Tue, 24 Oct 2000 06:58:22 EDT From: BaronAVR@aol.com Subject: Where no one owns the Rain, part six Greetings! Here are the legal statements: If you are not yet of the minimum legal age required, or the viewing of such material is illegal where you live, please leave now! If stories involving homosexuals are offensive to you, grow up or read something else! This story is a work of fiction and only the Characters of Andy and Terry are based on real individuals. All others are fictional characters and any resemblance to anyone living, dead or not yet born are purely accidental. The Author retains all rights. Copyright 2000. Story written by Andrew Simon van Ryan. Where no one owns the Rain... Part Six by Andrew Simon van Ryan Copyright 2000. All Rights Reserved "I stayed up most of last night after re reading your book, just thinking how to get Conner." Noah explained. "I figure he knows the book's' plot, or at least someone in his inner circle knows it. If they detect small files being left in their systems, and they would, It will take no time at all for them to realize someone is using the DatMan system like you suggested in the story line. Their likely response would be to seemingly do nothing, but be waiting for the liberators attack when the compiler was accessed. They'd set it up so it looked like all the computers went down, but in reality, the military will have bluffed. They'll use a separate computer to hold the files we plant and when it accesses the compiler code, it won't affect the other systems, 'cause it's not connected to them. They'll just shut down some city lights, make it seem like the Air Bases are without their radar and air traffic controllers and wait for the invasion. Then they'll jump on us like a cat after a mouse. I have no doubt this is what they'll do." "So what do we do?" I asked. "We let 'em." Noah smiled. "We go right ahead following the book exactly as written and let them think they're outsmarting us." "And what are we really going to be doing?" Gabriel questioned. Noah leaned forward and began. "Let me tell you a story. When I was in the Navy, I had the highest security clearance there is. I wrote several of the computer programs used by 'black opps' weaponry, one of which is the Razorfish." He said. "The Razorfish is a tiny unmanned submarine which can be piloted across an ocean, into the mouth of a river and upstream for miles. Depending on the rivers depth, maybe even hundreds of miles. It does this without the need to communicate with a remote operation command center. Once it's given the coordinates, it carries out the task, traveling there with no further contact. It knows where it is by using GPS satellites. Once the Razorfish arrives at it's destination, it deploys its weapon. An advanced sea to land cruise missile that travels to it's target flying about thirty feet above the deck. It's sophisticated guidance detects and avoids anything in it's path. This allows it to hug the contour of the land and fly undetected by radar. Once it gets within a quarter mile of it's destination, it turns sharply upward reaching about 500' before turning down and accelerating at full power into the target. It's armor piercing abilities make it capable of getting through the strongest buildings construction and detonating inside." "Detonating what?" I asked. "A small nuclear device designed to yield an explosive force which only destroys an area of approximately one square mile. Yet it makes sure anything within that one square mile is exterminated." "So what's your plan?" Gabriel asked. "We fake Conner into thinking that we're going to attack him with the DatManDead scenario. Do everything we can to make him think we're coming after him with a small group of men. He's the paranoid type and will have all his resources watching for our attack. As the attention is turned toward that and away from closer to home, I'll send the command code to a Razorfish lying in wait along the Atlantic seaboard. The fish will make it's way up the Delaware river and launch on the White House, turning Conner into white hot vapor." "Why the need to distract him" I asked. "Why not just send him a Razorfish enema?" The others giggled at my suggestion. Noah smiled, then continued. "Two things." He said. "First, I need to get access to a military linked computer. From there I can get into any military computer system. I'll hack the Razorfish system and give the command. Then, I'll remove any trace of my entry into the command center. Razorfish aren't trackable. They use an advanced 'stealth' design and they don't send any signal themselves. Once it's moving, no one knows where it is. And by covering my hack, no one will know the fish is swimming. There's a Naval Weather Station on Swan Island with a military computer link. It's not far from the coast of Belize. There's nothing on Swan Island other than a closed down processing plant that made bat guano fertilizer and the weather station. Twelve men are stationed there. We need to take them by surprise, before they can send out an alert and until the Razorfish reaches its destination, we have to continue running the weather station, making it seem like business as usual." We all nodded our heads. "The second is the real trick." He sighed. "Once the missile is within the general designated area, it acquires it's final target one of two ways. The first and impossible for us way is by triangulated laser targeting, using a TR-3 companion aircraft. The other is by signal beacon. The signal beacon is transmitted by a device about the size of your thumb. This has to be at the site we wanna' hit. It works best if placed within fifty feet of where the warhead should detonate." We gazed at him, then slowly glanced between each other. "That's why we need a decoy. So all eyes, including Conners, will be looking elsewhere while someone plants the beacon." "One thing." I asked. "Wouldn't they have changed the Razorfish programming after you were deported?" Noah smiled broadly and said. "That's the beautiful thing, baby. I didn't get deported. I'm dead!" While looking at him, I noticed Gabriel was grinning too. "OK." I said. "How'dja die?" "Remember, I had the highest security clearance there is. Within days of his election, I discovered Conners plans to relocate his enemies and those he hated. So even before his inauguration, I disappeared while on R&R leave in New Havana. Just completely vanished, almost without a trace. I left my jacket and a knife in an alleyway near the ship. I cut myself and bled on the jacket and on the knife, thereby making it look like I'd met foul play. The Navy searched everywhere, but since Cuba still has high crime, they assumed I was robbed and killed. It even made the newspapers back home. I actually stowed away on a freighter heading for Nicaragua. When they got into port, I managed to slip overboard unseen. I found a small boat tied to the wharf, took it and made my way up to Punta Gorda. From there I hitched a ride with the son of a North American expatriate I met in a bar. He took me into the interior of the country. We hit it off real well and after a few weeks I told him of Conners plans. He figured there would be escapees from the labor camps and decided we should help them. That's when we started Heaven." "So you trust this individual?" I questioned. "Yes." He answered. "I trust Gabriel completely." No wonder Gabriel was grinning from ear to ear. They had begun the encampment here, just the two of them. Zeke had told me the day before that there were now one hundred and forty three in the camp. All of them homosexuals and most of them escapees. A few left the US before the roundups started and didn't return once they'd heard the news of the 'relocation's'. Those few had fled to Belize, knowing it was the only country in Central America aligned with Great Britain. Eventually, they'd made their way here. "I was born in Belize to American parents." Gabriel stated. "When I was old enough, they sent me to a private high school in the states. There, I not only learned about politics, but discovered my sexual preference as well. I returned to Belize and started studies at St. Thomas Medical School on Ambergris Caye. The school got hit hard by a hurricane last year and while they were rebuilding, I went to explore the country on my own. I met Noah and we've been together ever since." "Why did you decide to go after Conner?" I asked. "My Father is an American, but his parents, my Grandparents, were born in Germany. As children they suffered through the Holocaust and barely survived it. All because they were Jewish. I grew up hearing them say 'Those who forget the past are destined to repeat it.' No one in my family will ever forget the past. Conner must be stopped." "I think Noah's' got the right idea." I said. "They wouldn't think about their own weapon being used against them." If they were expecting an attack like the one in my book, they'd be looking for an invasion force sneaking into the country through the bayou's' along the gulf and making their way in small groups up the Mississippi River and into the Ohio River. Upon reaching East Liverpool Ohio, the book said the invaders met with coconspirators driving rented semi trucks. Loaded into trailers the invading forces traveled to Arlington, West Virginia and to Washington, DC where they waited for the computer systems to crash. The success of the crash would be noticed when the power grid supplying electricity to the two cities shut down, causing all the lights to go out. This was also used as the signal for the attack. "I only have one question, now" I said. "Do we actually send everyone from the camp to invade the US?" "We'll have to." Noah said. "They're going to be looking for Invaders and if they don't detect any, they'll know something's up." "They may be killed if they get caught and the chance of that is pretty certain." I said. "Do they know that?" "Not yet. We haven't announced anything yet. But I can tell you that everyone in this camp has lost someone close to them. They've lost their loved ones to Conners death camps and most would take any risk, even if it meant losing their own life, to nail that son of a bitch in Washington." Glancing around at the others, I found they were all staring at me. I realized they were waiting for my vote. Waiting for my decision. My thoughts from the previous night came back to me, as did the murder of my boyfriend Terry. I knew how I would answer the question my teacher had asked in high school. "I'd go to Washington and shoot that son of a bitch myself." I said through gritted teeth. "Let's do it."