CHAPTER 8: CONSPIRACY
She started to lose interest in life. Nothing seemed to be enough for her
anymore. School was boring, her job was boring, even her dom was boring her
now. This continued until a spark was lit from an unlikely source. As she was
doing her nightly rounds in the bdsm chat channels, someone sent her a private
message: "Hey I hear you're into the really heavy stuff like encasement and
multi-day stuff. Anyway you might like this site."
A link was attached. She ignored it of course. There were always spammers
trying to get people to their sites. Later, however, she wondered if maybe it
had been sincere. Checking the logs, she found the link again and typed it in.
The Howl Reports
Federal watchdog with bite!
It looked like one of those political paranoid nut pages. There were all kinds
of "special exclusive reports" on things like flying saucers, roswell coverups,
presidential scandals and such. She was about to close her browser when her eye
caught something: "Women being tortured NOW in your very own country! Martin
Howl uncovers a secret torture camp where women are held indefinitely and abused
daily."
She clicked on the link and read his report. It was a little shy on fact and
big on political rhetoric, but it seemed strangely familiar. She noted his
phone number and called him the next day.
"You've reached the Howl Reports!"
"Umm.. hi. I'd like to speak with Martin Howl please?"
"This is he."
"Oh hi. I just read one of your reports and I was wondering if I could talk to
you about it?"
"What do you want to know?" he asked guardedly.
"Well, it's about those secret torture camps."
The other end was silent.
"Hello?"
"... Are you with a government or law enforcement agency?"
"No."
"Because if you are, you have to say. It's the law and I have this conversation
recorded!"
"No, I'm just a concerned citizen. Someone on online chat sent me to your page
last night."
"Who?"
"I don't remember. I thought he was a spammer, but I decided to take a look
anyway later on."
Silence.
"Look, I'm not a cop, or a fed, or any other government or law enforcement
agency. I'm just a student who wants to know more about this place."
"... Well okay then. What do you want to know?"
"Everything you know. Is there someplace we can meet?"
"Well, if you want to know everything, you should probably come here."
Jenny noted the details and set an appointment for the next day. That night she
couldn't sleep. Did this guy have anything real? It could be the same place,
but then again it might not be. He did live just out of town, and his article
said they operated nearby, which corroborated her experience driving there
somewhat. Either way, this Martin guy sounded like a crackpot.
She half expected an overly nervous guy with a twitch and a tinfoil hat to
answer the door as she rang. Martin himself was a little shorter than herself,
and a whole lot plumper. He wore a black T-Shirt with a fuzzy picture of a
flying saucer and the words "REMEMBER" in block letters underneath, and jeans
that may once have fit him, but were 3 sizes too small by now, and probably only
a distant memory of their original color.
He led her through a door to the basement. There were posters on all the walls
depicting UFOs, aliens and the like. There was a large shelving unit made of
plywood on the back wall, practically bursting with papers, envelopes, binders
and folders.
"I went through my research again last night and pulled out the most relevant
parts." he said. "What's your interest in this, anyway?"
"Oh, I have to do a term paper for political science." she lied. "I'm doing it
on the progress of women's rights."
Martin nodded. "Well then, you'll be quite shocked at the giant leap backwards
here."
"The place is called DSC or Democratic Study Chest. They like using names like
that to cover the real operation going on."
They both pored over the documents. "I've gotten some footage from inside, and
corroborated any names I found, and one thing stands out like a rotten fish."
"What's that?"
"Every woman in there is dead."
"What?"
"I checked the papers. Every one of them has a record stating they were
executed."
"Soo, what I figure they're doing is snatching these women up and faking their
executions so they can bring them to these compounds."
"But why would they go to all that trouble? Why not just grab people off the
streets?"
"My guess would be that they have to play by some kind of rules. There's
probably an oversight committee involved somewhere. But that's not the half of
it. They also bring people in from other countries; Anywhere they execute
people."
Jenny remembered the Chinese girl in the video.
"But why are they doing this? It doesn't make sense to follow all these weird
rules just to torture women."
"Well, I have a friend who's been doing some deep investigation, and apparently
DSC has some links to Bols Reuter, which is a chemicals factory. There were
rumors awhile back in the power circles that they've come up with an aphrodisiac
that actually works."
"So?"
"So... When he told me that, I did some review of my footage, and found a lot of
suspicious talk. They apparently milk the girls daily, and at first I thought
it was just part of their sadistic thing, but now it looks like the milk is an
essential ingredient in this aphrodisiac Reuter claims to make."
"Where is this footage?"
"Oh, I have them stored in the other room. You don't want to look at those.
They're pretty graphic."
"Listen, I came all this way to find out about this. I'm not going to stop
now."
Martin paused. "You're sure? You probably won't like what you see."
"Yes. Show them to me."
Martin went to the other room and started rooting around, talking to himself.
Jenny looked over the documents. There were numerous inventory sheets
mentioning quantities of "reagent C". The transcript he had showed her earlier
documented one of the guards saying "she's got a good reg-C count". It seemed
somewhat plausible at least.
Martin came back and plopped a box of video tapes on the desk.
"Ok, here's the first one. Let me warn you again, it's pretty graphic."
He started the video. There was footage of guards talking to each other.
Nothing special. Then something rolled by. It was hard to see since the video
quality was bad.
"Wait. Replay that."
He cocked a smile. "You noticed that too, huh?"
He rewound it and played it back half speed. The guards were continuing their
slow discussion. Suddenly, they moved back as if to make way for something. A
large object rolled past. It was unmistakable. That was one of their frames.
"That's what they torture them on." he said casually. "Now here's the real
stuff." He ran the tape forward for some time. More scenes of guards talking,
then it changed scenes. This was a camera that was moving. She could see four
frames in the distance. Someone was behind them swinging something, it looked
like. The camera zoomed in. There were women on the frames, one of them
struggling against her bonds and convulsing as the man behind her swung
something. This was most definitely the same place.
Jenny's head swam. "I uhh.. I have to go."
"Told you it was intense. Hey, are you OK?"
Jenny felt light-headed. "Yeah. I just need some air."
"Hey listen, I'm sorry about this but you did ask to see them. Tell you what.
I'll give you my card. It has my private number on it. If you want to
investigate some more or ask questions, just call me OK?"
"Yeah. thanks." Jenny needed to get outside and NOW. She stumbled her way up
the stairs and burst through the door running. She quickly got in her car and
drove off, leaving a rather confused Martin Howl in her wake.
Her heart was racing. She'd found them! But now what? She knew where they
were, and what they were doing, but it didn't really do her that much good did
it?
She went through another sleepless night going through everything again and
again. The thrill was steady in her stomach, and she didn't sleep a wink.
She'd gotten a name from Martin, a certain Raoul Fernandez, who apparently would
pose as an intelligence agent from Cuba. At least three girls were arrested
after passing him sensitive data, and then later executed for treason.
She had a contact number, but she couldn't exactly contact him without any
information to pass on. What kind of stuff did she need to get her hands on?
She called Martin the next day.
"Information?"
"Yes, I was wondering what kind of information those girls handed to this
Fernandez guy."
"Oh. Oh it's all useless information that you can get out of an encyclopedia
actually, but the DOJ makes it sound really bad and then withholds the
information on the grounds of national security. Actually, I have a copy of
this so-called "sensitive" information right here. All three of the girls
handed in copies of the same document if you can believe that!"
"Could you fax it to me?"
"Sure."
After thanking Martin, she took the documents to the library, made copies, and
then burned the originals. No sense in getting Martin in trouble over this.
Armed with her new information, she made the call to Raoul.
"Fernandez!"
"Umm.. hi. Umm."
"Speak up! I cannot hear you!"
"Umm well I was told that I'm supposed to give you something."
"Give me something? Give me what? Hurry up, I haven't got all day."
"Well it's some documents that I have to give you..."
"Documents? Well I can't just accept documents from anyone. I like to keep
things on a first name basis. You know my first name don't you?"
"Umm.. Raoul?"
"Good. And your name?"
"Jenny.. Jennifer"
"Well, Jenni-jennifer, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. I can accept your
documents, but I'm afraid I'm stuck in Houston at the moment. Can you make it
down here, say 2:00 PM tomorrow?"
"Umm.. sure I guess."
"You don't guess. will you be here?"
"Yes.
"OK, you can meet me at the Hilton in the lobby. I'll be wearing a white hat
and sunglasses. You will address me as Gonzales."
"OK."
"Good girl. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another call. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
The exhilaration was mounting again. Why was she doing this? She knew where
the road ended, and yet she was almost possessed to follow it.
She reserved a return flight to Houston and again slept poorly.
The next afternoon found her in the lobby of the Hilton. She hardly noticed any
of the decor around her; she was completely absorbed with finding Fernandez.
Eventually, she spotted him, chatting with another man. She waited for the
conversation to finish, but it just went on and on. Fernandez looked to the
entrance from time to time. Maybe this was how she was supposed to hand off the
information?
Building up her courage, she walked up to where he was sitting. "Um.. Mr
Gonzales?"
He paused in his conversation and turned to her. "Yes?"
"I think these are yours." She held out the folder.
"Oh yes, how forgetful I can be. Thank you." He took the folder and put it
under his jacket, then returned to his conversation. This must be her cue to
leave.
She turned around expecting to find FBI agents standing there, but there was no
one. She walked slowly to the lobby exit, then outside. Nothing.
What happened? He had to be crooked, taking the same info from three different
girls. She hailed a cab back to the airport.
Entering the airport, she looked at each of the security guards, but they
ignored her completely. Just to be sure, she went up to one of them.
"Umm.. excuse me. which way is the bathroom?"
The guard looked at her, smiled, and then pointed. "Right that way, ma'am. You
can't miss it."
"Oh. Thank you."
Why weren't they here?
She went to the checkin counter. No luggage so she went straight to the waiting
lounge. The anticipation was getting to her. She kept looking around for
anyone closing in on her.
Finally, they called for boarding. Still nothing. She waited as they began
boarding.
"This is the final boarding call. Final boarding call for flight 201."
"Would Jennifer Paige please come to ticket counter 5? Flight 201 is about to
depart."
Well, that was it. A dud. A waste of time. She went to the counter.
"Jennifer Paige?"
"Yes."
"Could you go with this man please?"
"Huh?"
"You are Jennifer Paige?"
"Yes, I am."
"Could you go with this man please?"
She pointed to a security guard.
Gulping, Jenny followed him. He led her to a corridor marked "Security
personnel only", and ushered her into a room.
There were two men seated at a table. A lone chair was obviously hers.
"Jennifer Paige?"
"Yes. What's this all about?"
"Could you sit down please?"
She looked at the chair.
"Please?"
She sat down. One of the men nodded to the guard, who left.
"Ms Paige, I'm special agent Hunt, and this is special agent Torrez."
"Why am I here? I have a plane to catch!"
"Ms Paige, it has come to our attention that you did on this day July 28th at
2:11 PM give a folder to a certain Raoul Fernandez, also known to use the alias
Gonzales."
"Wait a minute. Am I under arrest?"
"Not as of yet, ma'am. We just need you to answer some questions."
"Well if I'm not under arrest then I'll leave."
"Ma'am, if you refuse to answer questions, we will be forced to arrest you as a
suspect in this case."
"Fine. I won't answer questions without a lawyer present."
"Very well. Jennifer Paige, I am placing you under arrest for treason against
the United States of America."
She was placed in a solitary cell, hands and legs cuffed. She spent a lot of
time thinking. There was no turning back now. Either Martin was right or she'd
be a dead woman very soon. She slowly fondled the steel cuffs that imprisoned
her wrists and ankles. They felt cool against the skin. They gently caressed
her wrists, but they would not give up their prisoner. It felt nice to sleep
with them on.
The next day, her court appointed lawyer came.
"Why is she still cuffed? Is she a dangerous criminal?"
A guard came in and, much to Jenny's disappointment, released the cuffs.
Maybe if she tried to attack him, he'd put them back on, but she probably
shouldn't go over the top on this. A petulant child act was in order here.
"I didn't do anything wrong!" she sulked.
"I know you didn't, but the problem is the prosecution has quite the case
against you. They even have video footage of you handing the information to an
enemy spy."
"So? How was I supposed to know what was in it?"
"Well, who gave you the information? Why did you pass it along?"
"It just seemed the nice thing to do. You're worse than them. All questions
and the like. I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Jennifer. May I call you Jennifer?"
"No!"
"Very well. Ms Paige, I want to help you, I really do, but I can't unless I
have the facts."
"Look, I don't know who it was who gave the folder to me, OK? Just leave me
alone."
"Ms Paige, they're going to try for the death penalty. Now if I can't get a
case together for you, they might very well win."
"So do your job then!"
"I am, Ms Paige. Perhaps now is not a good time. How about I come back later?"
"How about you not come back at all?"
"Are you saying you do not wish my services?"
Jenny thought about this. No. That would be going too far.
"No. You're OK. Just not now."
"Very well, Ms Paige. I shall call on you..."
"Later!"
"Very well. Later then..."
He called to the guard and was led out. Jenny was very tired, but was too
anxious to sleep.
The next day, the lawyer came back to visit. "Ms Paige, is now a good time?"
"Fine." she said with a touch of boredom.
"I'm terribly sorry, Ms Paige. We were not properly introduced last time. I am
James Clavall, I'll be representing you in this case, if you so wish."
He held out his hand. She looked at it, then lamely offered her own.
"Very good, Ms Paige. Now they are unfortunately withholding the documents that
you allegedly passed on to Mr Fernandez, and so it makes our case somewhat
difficult. If you could just tell me in your own words exactly what happened, I
will do my best to defend you."
That's precisely what she didn't want, but to deliberately sabotage her own case
would definitely raise a few eyebrows. She decided instead to spin a yarn about
some boy at her school who had asked her to pass on documents to his father yada
yada.
James nodded and took notes throughout the interview. He then thanked her and
turned to leave.
"So what are my chances then?"
He smiled thinly. "I'll do my best, Ms Paige."
The trial was, of course, a farce. The prosecution refused to show the
documents in question, and even went so far as to bring in false witnesses.
Jenny made a point of calling them liars as they spoke, much to the discomfort
of the judge, who eventually threw her out of the proceedings with two charges
of contempt of court. Not that it mattered really when you're up for execution.
She remained in a holding cell until the deliberations were finished. After
just 3 hours, she was pronounced guilty.
"Jennifer Paige, in light of the seriousness of your crime, and your unrepentant
attitude, I'm afraid I have no choice but to sentence you to death by lethal
injection, the date of which shall be set tomorrow."
