Wall VI The Marlene Campanili Experience

WALL VI

The Marlene Campanili

Experience

Thomas G. Baker

Wall VI

The Marlene Campanili Experience

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or localities is entirely coincidental.

WALL VI The Marlene Campanili Experience

Copyright © 2014 by Thomas G. Baker

ISBN 13:  978-1310462474

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1 State of Alarm

Chapter II Event Horizon

Chapter III Decent into Darkness

Chapter IV Moral Dilemma

Chapter V Good Evening America

Chapter VI Cave Fever

Chapter VII Degree of Separation

Chapter VIII Home Sweet Home

Chapter IX Reunited

Chapter X Merry Mayport

Chapter XI Pirate Treasure

Characters Wall VI

Dedication

I’d like to dedicate this book to those few among us who diligently pursue the quest to unlock and understand the human experience, to unearth mans past and chart his course into the future. Too many times they are the voices in the wilderness, the canaries in the coalmine their cries drown out by the herd of humanity as it blindly thunders along headed toward the wall, the ultimate wall.

****

Preface

Like the characters I write about, over my lifetime I have become increasingly alarmed by the growth of world population. I perceive it to be the greatest threat not only to mankind but also the planet. By our failure to recognize and act we are at the very least condemning future generations to a diminished quality of life and at worst inevitable extinction. I have attempted to present the reader with one possible scenario I feel is all too possible although there are many others even less desirable.

****

Introduction

While on an errand for her boss, TV news personality Marlene Campanili discovers secret preparations are underway in the Florida Panhandle concerning an impending Collapse of civilization. Investigating further she finds herself falling for a White House intelligence liaison and drawn ever deeper into the intrigue of an ancient Masonic order as the world around her begins to crumble.

****

Chapter I State of Alarm

It had been a hectic week for the seven men seated around the ancient oak table. None wore a smile as the meeting drew to a close for each in their own way had to deal with the knowledge that within a matter of months the unenviable job of running what remained of the country and civilization would likely come to rest on their shoulders.

Grand Master Steven Mitchell broke the silence, "Brothers we have been planning for just such a contingency for over two centuries. Still I'm sure none of us here gathered has wished for it to arrive on his watch.

"I feel confident we have put forward our best efforts in laying the groundwork and all that remains is for each of you to return to your district, fine tune last minute details, and wait.

You all know your assignments keep in touch by whatever means is available as I doubt we’ll be afforded the luxury of meeting within this grand temple until events have run their course. Good luck and may the Grand Architect of the Universe steadfastly guide you in thought and deed thru the dark days ahead.

The meeting adjourned with a short prayer and the men shook hands one last time. Jeremy Atkins watched as they paraded down the long marble hallway and vanished into the night.

Jerry was one of only a hand full of people who knew the complete story and although he was a minor cog in the overall machine found the responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders as well.

He turned to Homer Wilson and asked, You really think they’ll be able to pull this thing off?

Homer shrugged and said, Who knows, doesn't seem to be any alternative, I give it about fifty-fifty due to all the variables… It’ll be next to impossible to build an organization much less run one in the middle of total chaos.

I said, Speaking of chaos did you manage to track down the source of the report I sent you?

He said, Sure did Bright and I paid them a visit. Turned out to be a young New York City couple owns an actuarial firm, seems it’s a hobby of his collecting vital statistics. He reached the conclusion of where things are headed panicked and sent his findings to your folks at DHS in hopes someone there would sound the alarm.

I said, Fat chance… they read though the cover letter but didn’t have a clue about the contents so passed it along to us. I skipped through it and figured it might be of interest to you folks.

He said, They were spot on…at first we thought maybe they’d somehow gotten hold of our data.

I asked, You like working with Bright looks like he could be a real hard ass.

Homer said, Might seem that way, he tends to have a sardonic sense of humor. I’ve worked with Allan for years he’s got his own style... Hates orthodoxy and that’s what this situation’s going to require. He’s a throw away the book and think on his feet kind of guy.

We finished our chores, bid each other farewell, and then it was our turn to walk down the broad marble and granite hallway into the night. I’d see a couple of these guys tomorrow as for the rest they would be scattered across the country diligently preparing for what we were referring to as Dooms Day.

Looking over the roof of the waiting limo I could make out the Potomac and beyond the twinkling lights of DC. I leaned back in the seat listening to the gravel crunching beneath the tires and couldn’t help from marveling that one of the most secretive and powerful organizations on the planet didn’t have a paved drive leading to its main entrance.

How many generations before us had met and labored in that splendid underground labyrinth charting out scenarios which never came to pass. I certainly hoped we’d get lucky and this one too would somehow blow over. Tomorrow morning I’d be back at my day job maintaining a low profile collecting data in an attempt to determine threats to the nation though at the moment those seemed insignificant and trivial when compared with the tsunami that was poised to inundate us all.

****

Marlene Campanili stepped from the elevator wondering if she hadn’t made a mistake. All the action was here in DC. these days so why had she let her boss and managing news director Neil Bradbury talk her into going South for Thanksgiving especially since the station was understaffed.

Neil had called me in and asked if I was going home over Thanksgiving. I told him he knew full well I had planned on spending Christmas with my folks.

He said, Change of plans my sources tell me there’s a possibility travel will be restricted over the Christmas holiday so I want you to take off Thanksgiving instead. Besides I have a little assignment for you.

Neil had promised it wouldn’t take over three days. He’d said in his usual off hand manner. Marty just zip down, check out the rumors, scarf up some turkey with your folks, and zip on back.

Zip was easier said than done with the whole country in turmoil and airline schedules all balled-up Still it came with the territory of being a junior reporter and there were so many people out of work I felt lucky just to have a job. I’d been with the station less than a year yet had already begun doing weekends and filling in for the regular anchors. Everyone was busy just keeping up with the crisis although none of us were permitted to refer to it as such in public.

I’d asked Neil, What’s going on down south that concerns us?

He said, I’m not sure… an old buddy who’s in the know slipped me word yesterday at lunch that the military has been sneaking around conducting a lot of clandestine activity along the Gulf Coast. In this game you sometimes have to go with a hunch. Maybe it has something to do with terrorism or the oil industry then again could be nothing.

I said, The military shouldn’t have to sneak you’ve got Pensacola, Eglin, Hulburt, and Tyndall the whole damned panhandle is lousy with military already."

He said, This concerns the Army Corps of Engineers. My source says they’ve been secretly stock piling mountains of razor wire and concrete posts somewhere near Mobile.

I asked, Have someone down there I can get in touch with?

He said, Not off hand you’ll have to check it out on your own, if nothing else it’ll give you a chance to see your folks and work on your tan.

Mom and dad lived in Destin Florida so it wouldn’t be a wasted trip. I went by my cubicle gathered my notes on the Thanksgiving for the homeless spot I was working on and turned them over to Sandy and could tell by her sour expression she was far from bring pleased.

Sandy Cooper was WQZTs principal female anchor and a royal pain. She had risen to her exalted position through deceit, backstabbing, and some said wearing out the station managers couch cushions. She had the status of queen and expected everyone to bow and kiss her ass when she walked into a room. Therefore, it was doubly satisfying to know she would be the one spending this Thanksgiving reporting from a homeless shelter.

On my way to lunch I visited the travel desk so they could try and make reservations then went back to my apartment and packed. I knew five days was a bit on the longish side but packed light anyway. I had plenty of clothes at moms although most dated from my high school and college days and were not well suited to the career of an aspiring news anchor.

I got a call letting me know they couldn’t book me on US Air for a direct instead my Delta flight would leave Regan at 7:59 in the morning with an hour layover in Atlanta which should put me in Ft. Walton by 12:15.

I debated on whether to call dad and have him pick me up or go ahead and rent a car, I decided what the hell I’m on the stations dime so called Budget and reserved a Ford Focus.

Neil hadn’t given me anything concrete to go on much less why the US military would be snooping in their own back yard. I doubted he’d gotten it right, as domestic spying was the domain of the FBI and Homeland. As for the razor wire the government loved to fence all its installations so the wire most likely was just an upgrade.

Over the years I’d made a few contacts of my own so I called Jerry Atkins and invited him to meet me after work for a drink. Jerry was a good looking guy around forty and although suave and urbane I could tell from the way he carried himself that underneath the veneer lurked a darker and grittier side. I knew from experience it went with the territory as you didn't wind up with a job like Jerry's unless you had proven yourself in the trenches.

He had started out a treasury agent shortly before the split in 03 and gone with Homeland Security as an intelligence coordinator to the White House. I suspected in this era of information sharing he was privy to almost all the governments’ secrets and on occasion I did my best to pry one or two out of him.

I’d met Jerry while working for the paper doing a piece on White House security. We’d quickly developed a working relationship so from time to time I would call him for background material. He was usually tight lipped when it came to matters pertaining to work but had developed one noticeable weakness. He couldn’t keep from staring at my legs. I wasn’t above exploiting my femininity if it got me a leg up so made a point of wearing high heals and a skirt that set them off.

I arrived at the Occidental just passed 6:30 Jerry was already seated at the bar. He stood, gave me the once over smiled, and said, Marty you’re looking great, damn shame you’re in such a crummy occupation but I guess you have to do what you can these days to make ends meet.

I said, Watch where your casting stones we’re both working for the same crummy propaganda machine. Your folks lead and we the media follow like a bull with a ring in its nose. Is it any wonder why the countries in the shape it’s in?

He said, Guess your right, everybody’s trying to spin themselves out of this mess and nobody wants to face the truth anymore.

I asked, What is the truth?

He smiled slyly and said, Can’t tell you even if I wanted to. The truth is classified.

I said. Well then the least you can do is buy a working girl a drink.

He said, You’re the one invited me remember… besides you have an expense account I don’t?

I said, If you’re not going to let me have any tidbits we’ll go Dutch.

He asked, Just what did you want to see me about anyway?

I said quietly so the guy setting next to me couldn’t eavesdrop.

Know any reason why the army should be secretly stockpiling razor wire all over the Gulf Coast especially around Mobile?

He said, Christ where’d you come by a rumor like that?

I said, You know this town as well as I do it thrives on rumor.

He looked over my shoulder at the big guy and said, Lets grab a booth I want to hear more but somewhere with a little more privacy.

I consented even though I had told him everything I knew. When we were seated and had ordered another drink I beat him to the punch and asked, Jerry is there anything I need to know before I start digging into this thing?

He said, Marty be careful you may be getting in over your head…. What I’m about to tell you is highly classified and if you breathe a word of it we could both wind up behind bars or worse. This is strictly off the cuff and goes no further than this booth.

I nodded and said eagerly, I understand perfectly go ahead and spill the beans, but first lets order… my treat.

After the waiter took our orders Jerry began, I’m privy to a lot of intelligence but I suspect most of it is being whitewashed. I know for a fact the president isn’t getting the strait scoop of just how bad things are about to get. I have a longtime buddy at DHS who is liaison for some super secret outfit. He told me he’s seen contingency plans that involve moving millions of people to the Gulf States in the event of a national emergency. If so it would be logical for the military to be sneaking around making plans and stockpiling.

I asked, Why would they want to even consider something like that… doesn’t make sense.

Jerry looked around nervously and said, "It does if you’re only able to save around a quarter of the total population.

I gasped, No way… that’s crazy… what in the hells going to kill off three quarters of all Americans nuclear war, poison gas, a pandemic and by who? The Chinese, Russians, No Way… Al-Qa'ida or one of the so-called Caliphates maybe but they haven’t got the wherewithal… or have they?

Jerry said, It’s much simpler than you think… famine.

I said, Famine! What in the hell are you talking about?

He said, Counting in all the peripherals and believe me there are many if something like all out war happens in the Middle East it’s likely to set off a chain of events that will do the real damage. The financial markets are already on the verge of faltering. All-out war involving Israel and the entire Middle East will bring a halt to petroleum production and in turn affect the markets and food distribution globally. Marty if it should occur governments including ours will topple like dominos leaving their populations to fend for themselves.

I said, Maybe Africa and some other places but not here for Christ sakes. We grow enough food to feed the whole frigging world.

He said, "Used to be true and granted were not as populous as most countries. You’re forgetting we've developed this lopsided dependency on foreign goods where better than 60% come from overseas. As for food over 20% of our vegetables, 50% or our fruit, and 80% of our sea food is imported and those numbers are likely to grow substantially if the droughts continue.

If that’s not bad enough we’ve allowed the Chinese to gain control over forty percent of our livestock processing capacity. We just learned they’ve been siphoning off our strategic reserves in order to bolster theirs and the bastards on the Hill know it but are too chicken shit to blow the whistle. Have you looked at the commodities futures forecast lately? You need to its disturbing.

He went on, For example, how much food you got in your apartment, three days worth, maybe a week tops? If things get as bad as my buddy predicts you’ll need at least a years worth and then you’ll have to cook it and that’s kinda difficult to do with no electricity, gas or even water. Hell the only people I’ve heard of that stock their pantries are the Mormons and maybe some Amish.

I said, Come on Jerry your being melodramatic, if things were going to get anywhere near that bad everybody would be screaming bloody murder and running around preparing for it.

He said, "You’d think so wouldn’t you but things are so dysfunctional with government and the private sector nobody’s taking care of even the minor crap anymore unless they get something out of it. Things have gotten so crooked and corrupt we can’t engage in honest dialog anymore so instead cover shit up with political correctness, bury our heads in the sand, and pretend everything is hunky-dory.

Wake up it isn’t any different than what you do for your station everyday gloss over, put on the spin, and make happy talk…. Tell me when was the last time you did an honest to god news story where you told the complete unvarnished truth?

Our food arrived and we ate in silence while I tried to get a grasp on what Jerry had been telling me.

Jerry asked, Where’s your beau?

I said, Don’t have one anymore.

He looked over his fork and said, Thought you two were madly in love and couldn’t wait to get married. What was his name…Brad?

I said, Bradley Crenshaw, he couldn’t handle my hours and I got tired of him running his mouth… All he did was bitch and want me to quit. It’s easier finding a boy friend these days than a good paying job.

Jerry said, You’re better off. If you want the truth I thought he was on the wimpy side and a control freak to boot. Anyway if the need should arise and you feel like shacking up give me a ring. I don’t bitch, and my hours are pretty flexible.

I said, That’s the first time you’ve hit on me, I must say your approach though crude is direct. It’s for sure no ones going to accuse you of being overly romantic.

He said, Couldn’t pass up the opportunity it’s just an offer. You know how it goes nothing ventured nothing gained. I gave up on the romantic crap a long time ago… might say all my romances died on the vine before they had the chance to mature.

I said, It’s not hard to see why, old fashioned gals like me don’t believe in shacking up without first being courted and romanced a little so you’re going to have to settle for dinner…. Let’s get back to your buddy what’s his name, any chance of seeing a copy of that report?

He said, Forget I ever mentioned my buddy... Marty it’s classified for god’s sake go easy and don’t stir up a bunch of shit. Nobody wants to screw around with these folks and officially they don’t even exist.

I asked, Why haven’t you tried to find out more about who they are and what they’re up to?

He said, You kidding, where I work you don’t last long if you start asking questions... I don’t gather information just pass it along.

I asked, You really think it’ll get so bad that people will starve here in the US?

Personally I don’t know but it’s for sure somebody thinks so. You’re the reporter dig into it instead of doing silly stories about kittens stuck up a tree.

I said, I leave for the Pan Handle in the morning got any contacts down there?

He said, None that would do you any good. You’re aware a travel ban could go into effect any day and you might get caught up in it.

I said, My boss thinks so too that’s why I’m going to see my folks for Thanksgiving rather than Christmas.

He said, Understand I don’t do this for everybody but let me give you my inside number. Put it in your phone, memorize the area code on the back, then tear up the card.

I said, My, are we feeling generous tonight sounds real cloak and dagger. Why suddenly all the interest you going to have your outfit start tracking me?

No it’s a secure number, deferred so not even the NSA can access it. I’d love to say it’s because your single, smart, got great legs, and I want to get in your pants. But in reality I’m afraid you’re getting ready to bite off more then you can chew.

I said, I’m a big girl and been taking care of myself for quite some time.

Look Marty I’m a big boy too yet there’s a lot I can’t tell you. Just trust me when I say the stuff filtering down scares the hell out of me so be extra careful.

I paid the bill and we walked out of the Occidental into the chilly Washington night and stood awkwardly on the sidewalk making small talk until the cab pulled up then we shook hands and said goodnight.

On the ride home I confessed to myself that my track record wasn’t all that great either. Brad had been the last in a long line of losers stretching all the way back to my high school days. If Jerry had moved to kiss me I would have let him yet I was glad he hadn’t as it had only been a month since Brad and I called it quits, and even though I liked Jerry this time around I wasn’t going to give into the urge and wind up in another rebound relationship.

Lying in bed I thought about the raw news coming in. It didn’t take a genius to figure out things worldwide were pretty grim. Yet as Jerry had said, here we were feeding the public propaganda and cute little touchy feely human interest segments some so corny they made me feel like puking.

Jerry had chided me about doing hard news but if there was a shred of truth in what he'd said I’d be sitting on top of a major news story, one that had the potential to rock the entire country.

I looked at the number Jerry had given me and put it in my phone. The trick was the area code anyone that dialed the number on my phone would get American Airlines reservations but if I substituted the area code for the one hand written on the back of the card I supposedly would reach Jerry. Still you could never totally trust guys in Jerry’s line of work and I decided not to use it unless it became absolutely necessary.

The flight down had taken most of the day due to a four-hour layover in Atlanta. I was glad I only had the one carryon bag as I hustled past my fellow passengers impatiently waiting by the broken carousel for their luggage. I picked up the reserved Focus from Budget, called mom to tell her I was on my way, and headed to my parents home in Destin. I began to believe a little of what Jerry had told me as Budget made me pay for a tank of gas in advance and it had come to almost as much as the rental fee itself.

Traffic was lighter than I could remember for a Thanksgiving holiday week. I guessed that with the price of gas skyrocketing and the ever present threat of a travel ban people were feeling jumpy. I mused you could go without air for a few minutes, water a few days, food a week or two but how long could we survive without gasoline and diesel.

Surely with all the fracking and oil being pumped out of the Gulf along with the extraction of natural gas Americans might have to tighten their belts a little but no matter what happened in the Middle East the US would get by, it was plain stupid to think otherwise.

This was just the latest ploy by the oil companies to extort more revenue from the average American. As for Jerry the folks he worked for thrived on paranoia and were always coming up with some far fetched apocalypse in order to justify their department’s bloated budget. If it wasn’t some threat from the Chinese, Russians, or Arabs it would be little green men from Mars.

I crossed the Bay Bridge and turned onto Gulf Breeze. It was good to see the beaches again as I’d just about reached the point of hating Washington with all of its double dealing and intrigue. Washington needed to get its act together and start governing. They could begin by reigning in the excesses of the corrupt financial system and those multi national corporations that scoured the globe for ever cheaper labor and tax inversions. We had people begging for jobs here yet were still exporting them overseas.

The old myth of free market capitalism had been wrecked all to hell by China and Viet Nam both totalitarian communist states that were thriving on capitalism. We needed to learn our brand of predatory capitalism was unsustainable and given enough leeway it would eventually destroy the very consumers on which it depended.

I had seen it time and again various lobby groups pressuring some subcommittee to allow their pet corporation, bank, or entity to escape punishment and continue fleecing the very people congress was elected to protect.

When I worked for the paper I’d written several scathing articles detailing the criminality in the banking sector but each time the editor had turned them down saying that they were too controversial. Everything was too frigging controversial anymore. We even censored our reporting on crime because it might be construed as racial prejudice.

Modern day news casting had turned into nothing more than an hour and a half of entertainment with us sitting smiling at the camera, making happy talk, and parroting whatever crap was shoved in front of us. Journalism hell, all I had really gone to school for was to obtain a degree in propaganda so I could pay off my student loans.

I snapped out of my trance as I turned off Main onto Bayou, it turned into Bambi, and the driveway came into view I pulled up in front of the house and had scarcely opened the car door before mom came rushing out and gave me a hug.

She said. You must be tired, don’t worry about your bags leave them for your dad just come on in I’ll get you some ice tea.

I said, Only got this one packed light this trip.

She said, That's OK rooms ready and all your clothes are clean just the way you left them.

We went into the kitchen as mom poured us glasses of tea I asked, How’s dad, where is he?

He’s just fine had to run over to Fort Walton and pick up a part for the boat. I thought for sure he’d be back before you got here.

We sat around the kitchen table and caught up on gossip then I went to unpack. I walked into my old bedroom looked around and found it frozen in time exactly as it had been on the day I’d left for college down to the faded poster of Reba McEntire hanging on the door.

When I’d finished putting things away and taking inventory of what I could still get into I started to head down stairs to chat with mom until dad got back. As I passed my brother Nicks bedroom I couldn’t resist entering. Like mine his was untouched yet unlike mine this room had become a memorial and would never again see its former occupant. It had been almost five years since I got that awful call from dad that Nick had been killed near Qandahar City by an IED while serving as an advisor to the Afghans.

On the dresser besides his high school and West Point graduation photos were trophies for track and field, sitting on the nightstand pictures of his wife Adeline and my two nephews Shawn and Charley. Nick had been a year older yet for some inexplicable reason we'd always enjoyed a close relationship and rarely engaged in sibling rivalry. I’d always thought of him as the almost perfect brother.

Addie as we called her had remarried a couple of years ago yet they were coming for Thanksgiving. Her husband reminded me of Nick in many ways. Dad and mom had welcomed Richard and made him feel he was part of the family. I was glad it had worked out that way as mom got to see a lot of