1.
Senator Robert Collyer paced around the interrogation room at the Corrections Department in Downtown Philadelphia. Senator Collyer was arrested earlier today for insider trading. Collyer was nervous because he knew he was innocent but knew his career, and possibly his life, were over. A skinny young man in a suit was buzzed into the room and sat his suitcase on the table in the middle of the room.
"Senator Robert Collyer? Kevin Aldridge. I'll be your attorney for this case?" Kevin extended his hand and Collyer relunctantly shook it.
"Where's Ted?" Collyer asked. Ted Dandridge was the leading attorney in Philadelphia and was a very public and vocal supporter of Senator Collyer and had been his attorney for over twenty years.
"Mr. Dandridge was unavailable for this case. He passed the case to me," Kevin explained.
"And so it begins," Collyer sighed. "How old are you, Mr. Aldridge?"
"I'm 25. I'm kind of new to the firm but my law teacher's recommendation said I was very promising," Kevin smiled. "So this is insider trading? Do we know who the DA is for this?"
"Matthew Landsman," Collyer said. "The District Attorney's number two man."
"Wow, this could be a big ticket case then," Kevin whistled. "I guess the first thing I need to know is if you are innocent or guilty."
"Well, honestly, I am innocent but that doesn't really matter anymore."
"Why? What do you mean?"
"Well, first of all, I have you as a lawyer."
Matthew Landsman was buzzed into the interrogation room and placed his briefcase on the table next to Kevin's. "Senator Collyer," Landsman began, "it is an extreme pleasure to meet you. Best Senator this state has ever had."
"Well, I'm glad I have a fan," Senator Collyer smiled. "I'm gonna need all the friends I can get."
"Well, insider trading isn't as bad. I'm sure you'd just get a few months in jail and time served," Landsman said.
"That's normally what would happen but I'm not going to get a fair trial. Everything is stacked up against me and there is no way I'll avoid prison," Collyer explained.
"It's a very straightforward case, Senator. I don't really know what you are talking about," Landsman said. He glanced at Kevin who shrugged.
"I can explain it to you," Collyer said. "It's actually a very fascinating story."
"I'll have to advise you against talking openly to..." Kevin tried to interrupt but Collyer held up his hand and silenced his lawyer.
"I know what I'm doing. The first thing I want to talk about is why this powerful and successful senator is sitting here. I typically have the best lawyer on my side: Theodore Dandridge but as you can see he's not here right now. Up until this morning, I didn't even have any stock, which is strange for a senator but the truth.
"Since I was elected, I have kept a secret that many other elected officials have kept. The secret, if known, could destroy the world and it proves that everything we know in this world--possibly the universe--is wrong," Senator Collyer began explaining.
"What could be so devestating? I don't understand," Landsman said.
"The Earth, Mr. Landsman, is flat."
Landsman and Kevin were silent as they stared at Senator Collyer. Landsman smiled and chuckled a little. "Okay, that is unbelievable. We've known since, like 400 B.C., that the Earth is round. Besides, even if the Earth is flat, who would benefit from it? What'd be the purpose?"
"You'd be surprised. Just about everything that happens in this world is linking to the Earth being flat. Rome fell because they refused to accept that the Earth was flat; kings were deposed because they either didn't believe or wanted to tell the masses; John Kennedy," Collyer revealed.
"What? Kennedy was assassinated because he was going to tell the country?"
Collyer nodded. "Pope John Paul II was slowly poisoned," he sighed.
"My God," Landsman gasped. "Why is this such a secret? Who started it?"
"All I know is that is goes back to the creation of religion. Cavemen believed the world was flat so the religious people in charge decided that if those Godless heathens thought the world was flat then, in truth, the world must be round."
"I'm having a hard time believing all of this, Senator," Landsman admitted. "I kind of want to believe but how can everything--literally everything--be tied to this?"
"Go see Thomas Snow, he's here in Philadelphia. He's a former White House Press Secretary. He'll tell you everything you want to know. He's a good man who wants everyone to know the truth," Collyer said.
"Look, I'm gonna go," Landsman said standing up. "I'm gonna look over the case and think about everything you told me and I need to decide what to do. This is a lot to take in. So you were going to tell?"
"Poisoning and assassination is a bit much for a lowly state senator so they just decided to ruin my life," Collyer smiled.
"Thank you, Senator. Again, a great pleasure to meet you," Landsman said and was buzzed out of the room.
Landsman sat in his office thinking about what Senator Collyer said. He had called to get the address and phone number to Thomas Snow and was debating going to see him or not. Landsman picked up his phone and dialed the phone number.
The phone rang three times and someone answered. "Hello?"
"Is Thomas Snow there?"
"This is he. Who is this?"
"This is Assistant District Attorney Matthew Landsman. I want to come over and ask you a few questions about Senator Robert Collyer."
There was silence on the other end then a deep breath. "Do you know where my place is?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tomorrow at three," and Snow hung up.
2.
Former White House Press Secretary Thomas Snow had his office and residence in a massive Stalinist Gothic building near the center of downtown. The building was very imposing as it was completely different from all the other buildings around it. Landsman stood at the foot of the steps to the main door and hesitated walking up and confronting something he didn't really want to know.
Landsman turned at looked at a nearby clock tower. 2:55 P.M. Landsman inhaled deeply and starting walking up the stairs. He knocked on the door leading to Snow's massive office exactly at three. A muffled "come in" came from the other side of the door and Landsman cautiously opened the white painted amazingly decorated door.
"Mr. Landsman, I assume?" Snow said from a huge mahogany desk.
"Yes, sir," Landsman quietly said and approached the desk.
Thomas Snow was a tall man with a head full of powder white hair. His face was slightly wrinkled but those, the hair and the fancy suit made him look like a distinguished grandfather. Snow was White House Press Secretary from 1986 to 1993, helping three presidents deal with the fast balls the media threw.
Snow was known as a man who never let politics stand in the way of educating his country. Snow was a good man and an honest man.
"Please have a seat," Snow directed and stood. "I feel bad for Senator Collyer and hope all this can be fixed and it can all be put behind him. He doesn't deserve this, Mr. Landsman. The people who have died either protecting the secret or trying to reveal it didn't deserve it either. Great people have been knocked down because of this secret."
"That the world is flat, right?" Landsman confirmed.
"Oh, yes. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, the Earth is round like a table, not round like a ball. He knew it. Revealed it to everyone in his own way," Snow smiled.
"You'll have to start from the beginning, Mr. Snow. I am finding it all hard to believe. Granted, I only heard about it yesterday but it's hard to go back on 32 years of conditioning."
"All right, from the beginning..."
"The Earth was always flat. Cavemen believed the Earth was flat because that was all they knew. When religion is brought about, those in charge thought that since heathens and non-believers believed the world was flat then obviously the world is round. Some challenged authority, people died because of it," Snow explained while Landsman listened intently. "The conspiracy was just really a hodge-podge up until the last couple of centuries when people actually started solidifying what the general public deserved to know."
"Do you know who the first person to die because of this conspiracy was?" Landsman asked.
"Some say it was Jesus but I'm sure that's just more fuel for the conspiracy fire. Now, not everyone who threatens to expose the secret gets killed. Most have their lives ruined or is injured in some way. George W. Bush? He was made to look like the worst president in history. Although some people would say he was the best. It's a weird world," Snow said.
"The world is flat?" Landsman asked.
"Yes, Mr. Landsman. The world is flat."
"How is that possible? How did we find out?"
"We never found out, per se. So far it is all just theory because, well, who would really want to go to the edge of the world and see if you fall off?" Snow chuckled.
"Wouldn't gravity keep you from falling? Or would you just fall into space?"
"We don't know. We want to know. We need to know. That's one of the major flaws of this conspiracy. We have no proof that the Earth is flat. We're just assuming. Everything that could prove it, we've never done. We never went to the moon, it was filmed on a sound stage. We're faking everything NASA is revealing. Since I left being White House Press Secretary, I have devoted myself to revealing the conspiracy to the world. I've interviewed countless world leaders to get the full story. The book is over 3,000 pages and details centuries of lies starting as far back as possible. Thing is, I don't know if a book like this would ever see print," Snow said.
"Yeah, it would be unbelievable and pretty long," Landsman acknowledged. "Wouldn't there be an easier way to tell the world?"
"I'm sure there would be but every other way those in charge could use it against you and ruin your life. The book will be published after my death so I can't be hurt. As for my family, I've explained it to them and they can handle any backlash anyone gives them."
"Well, I hope everything goes all right for you. I have to get back to my office and figure out how to deal with Senator Collyer's case. Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Snow," Landsman stood and shook Snow's hand.
"Not a problem, Mr. Landsman."
Landsman left the huge building and headed back to his office. Thomas Snow returned to his desk and continued writing. Suddenly, a knock was heard was heard on his door.
"Come in?" Snow answered.
3.
Matthew Landsman arrived home and his son, Elliot, greeted him at the door. "Hiya, son. How was school today?"
"I kicked sand in Ella Thompson's face," Elliot said.
"Well, that's not cool," Landsman said.
"And Ami keeps chewing on my pencils."
"That's not cool, either," Landsman said, putting Elliot back down on the floor. "Why does Ami chew on your pencils?"
"Ah-mi! And she chews on everyone's pencils."
"As long as she's an equal opportunity chewer," Landsman smiled. He walked over to his wife Brenda who was in the kitchen boiling water. "Hello, my sweet. How was your day?"
"It was good. I got those pants restitched for you," Brenda said.
"Thank you, sweetie. Those are some decent pants and I want to keep using them," Landsman kissed his wife on the cheek and went into the living room and grabbed the TV remote. "See what's on the news," he said to himself.
Landsman turned on the TV and flipped over to a local news channel. A picture of Thomas Snow was on the screen. "...found dead by his evening maid this afternoon. Snow, a prominent fixture in the White House from 1986 to 1993. Police have a few leads and one suspect, who they are not naming at this time. Police are saying that the suspect is a major player in the District Attorney's office," the reporter said.
Landsman's jaw dropped. "Oh, crap!"
"Honey?" Landsman called from the living room. "Have you seen the news?"
"No, dear. I've been out all day and I got home not too long ago," she called from the kitchen. "Could you come here please?"
Brenda dried her hands and joined her husband in the living room. "What's up?"
"Now, I don't want to alarm you but do you know Thomas Snow?"
Brenda shook her head. "Why? Should I?"
"He was found murdered in his office this afternoon," Landsman revealed.
"Oh, that's terrible," Brenda gasped.
"I was the last one to see him alive," Landsman said.
"So you...could be a suspect?" Brenda asked. "Murder?"
"Yes, in fact, I'm apparently the only suspect. I didn't do it so I should be able to clear my name but..." Landsman thought about the flat Earth conspiracy. "...I want you to take the kids and go to my parents house. Stay there until I call and tell you what to do."
"Matt? What's going on?" Brenda started crying.
"Don't worry honey. We'll get out of this but this is becoming bigger than both of us," Landsman turned off the TV and directed his wife toward the bedrooms. "Go pack some things for the kids and yourself."
Landsman stood in the living room thinking about what to do next. The police are probably on their way, he thought, looking at his watch. What am I supposed to do?
Suddenly the telephone in the office rang and Landsman went to answer it. He paused as his hand hovered above the phone. The phone rang a third time, then a fourth before Landsman answered it.
"Matthew Landsman?" the voice on the other end asked.
Landsman attempted to answer but the words got caught in his throat. He cleared it but the voice continued.
"I know what's going on. You didn't murder Snow but they are going to set you up that you did. Come down to your office and we can talk about it. And don't worry, you can trust me."
Landsman finally found his voice. "Wait a minute. Just who are you?"
"My name is Dylan Freeman. Please hurry to your office but be cautious and use back roads here," Dylan warned. "I'll see you soon," and he hung up.
Landsman stood with the phone at his ear, dazed at the conversation he just had.
"Matthew!" Brenda shouted, bringing Landsman out of his daze. "We're packed and ready to go," she sniffled.
"Good. Go to my parents, I'll try to meet up with you as soon as I can and I promise when I see you again, I will explain everything that's going on," he kissed her cheek and promptly ushered her out of the door and saw them off. Landsman felt a chill run down his back but looked around and saw nothing. Then he looked up into the sky. He still saw nothing but knew someone was probably looking down on him.
Landsman packed a duffel bag of clothes, notebooks of client information and personal scribblings and a knife. He loaded it into the back of his SUV and locked up his house. He backed out of the driveway and began heading toward his office, only using surface streets instead of Interstate 76. It was still considered rush hour and the traffic was terrible in some spots but Landsman seemed to make it back to the courthouse in pretty good time.
Landsman's parents lived in Carmel, New York, a good three hours northeast of Philadelphia. Brenda tried to calm down Elliot and their daughter Molly but they were full of questions about where they were going, why they were going and when Daddy was going to come with them.
It seemed to take forever to get through the Philadelphia traffic but Brenda tried to keep her calm. Twice she thought about calling her husband but thought against it and wondered what was going on.
She originally thought that all this was caused by someone her husband had sent to jail--as an act of revenge but then came to the conclusion that all this was way to elaborate for a common criminal to handle and chuckled at herself for thinking that.
Suddenly, flashing lights came up in her rear view mirror. A police car was chasing her. She merged over to the far right of the highway and slowed down to a stop and put the car in park. An officer got out of the police car and walked up to her van.
"Evening, ma'am," the officer asked. "I'm sorry I had to stop you but we have an A.P.B. all this type of van. Seems like a parole violator stole one and is fleeing the city. We have to check all that we see," the officer chuckled.
"I completely understand, officer," Brenda smiled.
"If I could ask you to step out of the car so we can search it, just to be sure, ma'am."
"Uh, I guess that's all right," Brenda sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt. She got out of the car and the officer told her to stand in front of the police car next to his partner while he looked around in the van.
Landsman walked down the empty corridor to his office in the courthouse. Everything seemed normal but Landsman's stomach was in a knot. How could this day have changed so drastically? He turned the knob to his office but found it locked. He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked and opened the door. At his desk stood a tall man with brown hair, a military uniform, wearing glasses and carrying a laptop briefcase.
"Mr. Landsman? Good evening. So glad to see you and to know you made it here all right. I am Dylan Freeman and I am going to tell you everything you need to know."
4.
Landsman closed the door and stared harshly at Dylan Freeman. Landsman cautiously circled the office to his desk and stood next to his chair. "Okay," Landsman began, "what the hell is going on?"
"They're trying to ruin your life," Dylan said. "Don't worry. They won't succeed. If you join us, we can help you bring them down."
"I don't want to be a part of it at all. I only went to Snow to see the scope of this conspiracy and that's all. I am done with it. Done with it all!" Landsman shouted.
"That's what we'd all like but they need to be brought down and that's why you have been chosen," Dylan revealed.
"Why me? What can I possibly do to stop this insanity?"
"We can protect you. We need you to go to New York. From there you will help reveal Earth's secret to the world."
"Why me?"
"Because they haven't killed you yet,"
Landsman had sat down in his chair. Dylan continued to stand and look at Landsman. Landsman was sweating which made him uncomfortable. Landsman loosened his tie and cleared his throat. "What do we do?"
"We go to New York, the Round Earth Society operates there--in secret of course. Once we gather them, we head to Washington and reveal this secret to the world," Dylan said.
"Easier said than done," Landsman stood up. "How do we get there? Everyone will be looking for me and from what I've heard they will stop at nothing to stop this secret from coming out."
"Don't worry. We're doing everything we can to make sure they don't get you. How do you think you got here?"
Landsman raised his eyebrow to Dylan.
An ambulance raced to an old brownstone apartment near the center of Philadelphia. It, along with one police car, pulled up in front of the building and racing upstairs. The door to the apartment they were going to was open. They came inside, a man was standing in the middle of the room. Another man was lying in the middle of the floor. The paramedics rushed to the man on the floor. "What happened?" one of them shouted.
"I don't know, he just collapsed. We were about to leave for work--we carpool," the man still standing said. Crying just a little.
A paramedic tore open the shirt of the man on the floor while another felt his carotid artery. "I'm not getting a pulse," he said. "He's already gone."
"Let's just make sure. Get the paddles," the other paramedic said tearing the rest of the shirt off and seeing the wires and dynamite wrapped around the man waist. "What--?" the man looked from the bomb to the man standing who pressed a button on a remote control.
The explosion rocked downtown Philadelphia. The brownstone was nearly destroyed and several surrounding buildings were on fire. The street below was flooded with police, fire and ambulances helping people who were injured by the explosion. Panic gripped the city.
A few blocks away, Landsman and Freeman had left the courthouse and were going separate ways to New York. Within minutes, the courthouse was engulfed in flames. The courthouse was unable to be saved as it took fire crews longer to get there because of the massive apartment fire nearby.
"What the hell went on in this town today?" asked Police Chief Harrison O'Malley.
"I don't know. We have arson crew going through the remains of the courthouse and we did some searching into the apartment that exploded. It was leased in the name of Matthew Landsman," FBI Special Agent Donald Clark said.
"Matthew Landsman? He's one of the assistant District Attorneys," Chief O'Malley revealed.
"That could explain the fire at the courthouse," Agent Clark sighed.
"He's also our prime suspect in the murder of former Press Secretary Thomas Snow."
"Hmm," Clark breathed. "Sounds like a very elaborate plan to possibly leave town."
"We went to his house. No sign of him or his family."
"Lock down every road out of Philly," Clark said. "Get an A.P.B. on Landsman and have an officer--police, sheriff, whatever--do a check on every single car that comes in and out of this city. Until further notice, Philadelphia is on lockdown."
5.
Dylan Freeman had already arrived in New York City. He stood just under the Empire State Building. His phone rang and he quickly answered it. "Yeah?"
"Is he on his way?" asked a voice.
"Of course he is. I told him to avoid the toll roads and highways and give him the directions personally. He'll be here in about five hours. Small price to pay for this to off without a hitch," Dylan said.
"So at about 11 P.M., Landsman arrives in Times Square and at 11:07 P.M. it's all over and our secret is safe. Right?"
"Right," Dylan's lips curled into a smile. "And Landsman will be blamed for everything."
Brenda Landsman was in a dark room. She knew she was tied to a chair and a gag had been placed in her mouth. She was breathing heavily listening for any sound of someone in the room with her. Suddenly a door opened and someone walked in closed it again. She heard the footsteps walk across the concrete floor and a hand pulled a chain. A hanging light illuminated the dank room.
"Mrs. Landsman," the man said. The man was of Arab descent and gently removed the gag from her mouth. The man went behind her and untied her arms from the back of the chair. "I am sorry about the archaic way we're holding you here. But don't worry, we will make it up to you, I promise."
"Where are my kids?" Brenda said.
"They are fine, Mrs. Landsman. You will be reunited with them shortly," the man clasped his hands in front of him and sighed deeply. "Where is your husband going?"
"What are you talking about?" Brenda asked.
"Your husband went back to the courthouse while we were following you. The courthouse, among another building, are now gone. We know your husband wasn't involved in either act so we need to know where he is going."
"I don't know. He said he was going back to work and told me to take the kids out of the city," Brenda began crying.
"We need to find him, Mrs. Landsman. His life is in grave danger," the man sighed.
A massive round mahogany table was centered in the middle of a huge conference room. Suddenly a huge steel door slid open and in walked six people all in suits and ties except for the one woman who walked in.
They all sat down around the table and heaved a collective sigh. "So what do we do?"
"It all depends on where Landsman is right now. He's our tipping point. He's perfect for everything we need to do to set things right. We need to get to him before they do," a man said.
"We don't know where he is. The Empire Coalition sent him away from Philadelphia. That was over an hour ago so he could be anywhere by now," said another.
"Not true. He could anywhere within an hour radius of Philadelphia," joked one of the other people. "We have agents searching every road out of Philadelphia, which isn't easy because the city is under lockdown until Landsman is captured."
"What do we do when we get him?"
"We protect him. And we pray that he'll be perfect to make everything right again."
The Empire Coalition also went by the Round Earth Society. It was stationed in New York City and the main focus of it's goal was to reveal to the world that the Earth was flat and begin a civil war. The war has already been planned that left the United States in ruins and a new superpower standing tall among the losers. Dylan Freeman was the second-in-command of the EC and picked out Landsman himself to be the one to bring down the country.
The exact opposite of the Coalition was the Ptolemy Group. Ptolemy worked hard to shine light on the Earth and slowly reveal that the Earth but they worked to keep everything as calm as possible during the transition.
The Ptolemy Group was headed by Harold Kimner, the former governor of Ohio, who left office to found the Ptolemy Group. He found five other people who strongly believe in his idea and a whole host of people around the world who believe it in concept. They were 170,000 strong but that was only a drop in the bucket to the other six billion people in the world.
"Mr. Kimner," the lone woman in the group walked briskly up to the aging man.
"Yes, Jamie?" Kimner acknowledged but kept walking.
"One of our men found him," Jamie said, causing Kimner to stop where he stood.
"Really? You're sure?" Kimner was in a near panic.
"Our guy has been following him for over an hour. He's sure."
"Get all the information you can. We need Landsman...so does the world!" Kimner turned and quickly continued walking. Jamie turned and quickly got a cell phone up to her ear.
Brenda Landsman was reunited with her children who sitting, safe, in a small kitchen area.
"Oh, thank God!" she sobbed as she hugged them.
"I told you they were taken care of, Mrs. Landsman," the man reassured. "I do apologize for all the mystery and secrecy. We are kind of new to this but I assure you that we mean you know harm. Your husband is in danger and we need to know where he is."
"I told you I don't know. If he's not at the courthouse or at home then I don't know where he is," Brenda continued sobbing.
"Bring the cell phone. Mrs. Landsman, do you know your husband's cell phone number?"
"Y-yes, of course," she replied.
The man handed her a cell phone. "Could you please call him and ask him where he is?" Brenda took the phone from the man.
"Tell me who you are first!" she screamed. "Why am I doing this? Why are all these people after my husband?"
The man sighed. "Fair enough. Quickly, we are a private faction under the orders of the Ptolemy Group. The Ptolemy Group is a society of people who know that the Earth is flat."
"But the Earth is round," Brenda said.
"Is what they want you to believe," the man said. "I am Devon Jalali and my associates are Raymond Grummett and Adolph Huxley. Now, please, Mrs. Landsman, call your husband."
Brenda hesitated for a couple seconds but then began dialing.
Landsman's phone rang and he pulled it out of it's case that was hooked onto the visor. He looked at the screen and didn't recognize the number. He got worried then looked in his rear view mirror. The same van was following him. He hesitated for a few seconds and then the ringing stopped.
"He didn't answer," Brenda said quietly as she lowered the phone from her ear.
"He didn't recognize the number. Send a text message--anything to get him to acknowledge it's you!" Devon said.
Brenda began going through the menu and got to the text message section. She began typing then sent the message to Landsman. Landsman kept driving but grabbed his cell phone when the message came through. He read it: "Answer your phone. It's an emergency. Brenda."
Landsman was skeptical and reluctantly called the number that sent the message. The phone clicked on the other end and Brenda answered. "Matthew?"
"Brenda? What's going on? Where are you calling from?"
"I...I don't know..." she began crying again. "Where are you?"
"On some road in New Jersey. I'm heading to New York. Did you make it to Carmel?"
"No. We were pulled over and now we're..."
Devon grabbed the phone from Brenda. "Don't worry Mr. Landsman, your wife and children are perfectly safe. I am Devon Jalali and I must warn you that you are in grave danger!"
"Tell me something I don't know! This man tells me I'm in danger and that the world is flat and there's a van following me. I don't even care about any of this!"
"A van following you? I wonder if it's ours or theirs," Devon wondered out loud.
"Theirs? Whose theirs?" Landsman shrieked.
"The Empire Coalition. They want to start a war because of the Earth being flat," Devon explained.
"Dylan didn't mention anything like that," Landsman said.
"Dylan? Dylan Freeman?"
"Yeah, why?"
"He's against us Mr. Landsman. I am a member of the Ptolemy Group. I don't know what Freeman told you but we're the good guys! Where are you heading?"
"New York City. Dylan told me to meet him at the Empire State Building," Landsman explained.
Devon pulled away from the phone and spoke to Grummett and Huxley, "Get some people in New York around the Empire State Building. Landsman, do you know why you are going to Empire State?"
"No. Just to meet up with Dylan. I don't really know why I'm going to New York," Landsman tried to chuckle.
"Okay. Continue to go to New York and meet up with Freeman. We'll try to figure out what's going on around here," Devon said.
"Okay. Put Brenda back on," Landsman said.
"Hi, Matt," Brenda said.
"Are you okay? They aren't hurting you are they?"
"No, everything is fine. I miss you."
"I miss you, too. I love you, Brenda," Landsman said and kissed through the phone.
"I love you, too."
Brenda's voice squawked through the speaker on the massive computer. "Well, I guess we proceed as planned," said Freeman.
"It's not compromised?"
"No," Freeman began and starting walking off, "make sure the people get the tickets under the correct names. I'll get Landsman to Times Square."
6.
Eight months ago.
Dylan Freeman was in a windowless room sitting across a table from Khalik Mahmoud. Khalik looked like your average Pakistani, however Dylan had been working with them for the last sixteen years and still couldn't tell a Pakistani from an Iranian and from some Israelis.
In the corner was Geoff Ratigan who was only in there to be a witness in case Mahmoud chickened out. At first, the interview--which is what they called this--was pretty informal. They talked about past jobs and families, sports and movies. Then Dylan got down to business and explained what he wanted Mahmoud to do.
"We want you," Dylan began, "to be an intricate part of our society. We are planning a massive attack on the country on American soil."
Khalik was shocked but wanted to hear more. "Like another 9/11?" he asked.
"Not on that grand a scale," Dylan smiled. "That was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Plus, we never planned for the towers to fall--that whole act was just plain luck. No, it'll be smaller than 9/11 but it'll push the current president to do exactly what that old one did and that's what we want," Dylan explained.
"I don't get it," Khalik said.
"All the last administration did was fight terrorism and nothing else. In doing so, everything else was relaxed--things deregulated so there could be more money to fight terror and the wars. President Russ doesn't want to do that. He's gonna pull out of Iraq by April of next year and focus on stabalizing Afghanistan. Meanwhile, he has huge plans for healthcare, reusable energy and education. He's not popular right now because of the idiots who think he should be protecting the country but if his initiatives go through he will become the most popular president ever. If that happens then he will be charged with the task of telling the world," Dylan said.
"Telling the world what?" asked Khalik.
"Telling the world that the Earth is flat."
"But the Earth is round."
"That is what we want you to think. We have to keep this under wraps because it gives us leverage in everything we do. The Empire Coalition is given billions every year to keep the secret. Some, not all of us, have grown very accustomed to our lifestyles," Dylan continued.
"All this is about money?" Khalik asked.
"Everything is about money," Dylan sneered.
"Okay," Khalik began. "Let's say I do agree to do this. What would I have to do?"
"Since our plan has not been developed yet, you will spend the next six to eighteen months doing everything you ever wanted to do. You'll get a weekly paycheck and during that time you can also make final arrangements."
"Final arrangements?"
"Yes, more than likely you will die. Now we'll do our part and make sure you are never connected to the act. We'll phony everything up good."
"But in the meantime...?"
"You live like a king."
Devon, Raymond, Adolph along with Brenda Landsman and her children sat at a table in a kitchen-like bunker. They were eating oatmeal, that being the only food they had.
"I'm sorry we don't have more," Devon apologized. "You'd be amazed at how little of the budget goes into stocking our hideouts."
"It's no big deal. We're all safe and accounted for," Brenda said. "Except..."
"Don't worry. Matthew is safe. We're keeping close tabs on him," Raymond said.
"So the entire world finds out that the world is flat. What happens then? What's in it for you?" Brenda asked.
"The satisfaction that we're doing the right thing. We're just a dedicated group of people who know the truth. We think it's shameful that the government is lying to everybody and we want it stopped," Devon said.
"So what are your plans?" asked Brenda.
"See what Empire is going to do with your husband then use him to plan a counter-attack. Mainly it's the typical watch and wait."
"I wonder what Matt is doing now..." Brenda sighed.
Khalik Mahmoud readjusted the backpack on his shoulder as he took back the credit card with Matthew Landsman's name printed on it. Khalik smiled at the woman and headed toward the gate. He boarded the plane and prepared for take off. Somewhere else, Khalik was being declared dead after an auto accident. Khalik Mahmoud is survived by his wife and three kids.
7.
Cameron Orr approached the large sandstone Catholic church that had a beautiful fountain in front of it. Sitting on the edge of the fountain was Father Gideon Ponziglione.
"Hello, Father," Orr greeted. "How's the religion business?"
Father Ponziglione smiled at this. "It's going good. I can't complain. How's the...whatever it is you do business?"
"It could be better. We're up to 155 now," Orr said.
Father Ponziglione shook his head. "That's too bad," he said. "And no one is doing anything?"
"155 out of six billion? More people die from choking on a pretzel. But I found a group that knows those people are missing and they've promised to help me if I help them with something."
"Really? Well, that's good. Maybe now you can find a connection or something to really help you," Father Ponziglione was optimistic but Orr stayed composed. "Who is this group? If you don't mind me asking."
"The Ptolemy Group. You've probably never heard of them. They are an organization created to tell the world that the Earth is flat."
Father Ponziglione thought for a second. "But the Earth is round."
"Don't believe everything you read," Orr said casually. He glanced up at the sky and saw a jet flying overhead. "You better get inside, Father and prepare to be bombarded with customers."
"Why?" he was confused.
"See that plane?" Orr pointed up to the plane overhead. "It's about to crash into Times Square."
President Malcolm Russ sat in the Oval Office with his Secretary of Health and Human Services and his Secretary of Education. "We need to reform health and we need to reform education. Those are the big platforms I ran on and that's what we're going to fix in these four years."
"What about national security and terrorism?" asked the health secretary Regina Cowles.
"I do not use fear-mongering tactics with my country. We need to work on things over here, not in some desert on the other side of the world. Our children and our citizens are more important than trying to pretend to go after Osama Bin Laden," Russ said.
"Well, what did you have in mind, sir?" asked education secretary Gregory Barbera.
"We need to upgrade our education system. The system we have now is an antiquated piece of garbage set up to teach farmers. We need to update it and make it a viable resource. We need to start looking at countries whose schools are better than ours," Russ explained. He then turned to Cowles. "And health. We can do better there, too."
"Surely you're not going to suggest a Medicare-for-all idea," she chuckled.
"No but Medicare needs to be stripped and rebuilt from the ground up. The insurance that we all get," he motioned to himself and the secretaries, "should be made available to the people who want it."
"Who would pay for it?" asked Barbera.
"Either the people or us. The people will have access to several insurance plans and what they can't pay, the government can subsidize the rest."
"I don't know if that's feasible," Cowles said.
"Then we will make it feasible," Russ said.
An aide suddenly walked in and headed toward the president. "Sir? We have a situation."
"What?"
"A jetliner just crashed into Times Square."
President Russ stood up. "Prepare for a press conference. Ground every flight and and get every plane out of the air. Call every metropolitan area and get them on alert."
"Ground all flights?" Barbera scoffed. "Don't you think that might be overkill?"
"Maybe if the last president would've grounded all planes immediately after the first strike maybe we'd still have at least one and the people of Flight 93 might still be alive," President Russ said. "Better safe than sorry. But this doesn't let you two off the hook. We're still gonna reform healthcare and education."
Most of Times Square was unrecognizable amid all the wreckage and rubble. People were moaning in pain and screaming in horror. A massive sprawl of flaming wreckage was scattered around the area. Cameron Orr calmly walked through the area, directing people who needed help to medical personnel who were now arriving in the area.
Orr stopped at a car on the side of the road. He opened the back door and peered in. "Matthew Landsman, I presume?" he smiled.
"Am I dead?" Landsman asked.
"Not by a long shot," Orr helped Landsman out of the car. "Good idea, hiding in this car."
"Well, when you see a huge passenger jet barreling toward you, you kind of want to hide out somewhere," Landsman chuckled. "What the hell happened?"
"Terrorist attack," Orr said casually. "Come with me, I'll try to explain everything."
"Now wait a minute! I was nearly killed in a terrorist attack and so far this day has been very dangerous. What's going on around here and why does this all involve me?" Landsman demanded.
"In short, someone wants you to do something really good for your country and someone else wants to kill you," Orr said. "Now come with me, I'll protect you."
"Why should I?"
"I'll take you to your family," Orr motioned.
Landsman shrugged and he and Orr began walking away from the destruction.
8.
"...We will not let this cripple us. Tomorrow, everything will begin to become normal again. We will find out who guided that plane down and who they were working for. We will not fail the people who died in Times Square and as President, I will not fail you," President Russ said, finishing off his press conference only twenty-five minutes after the crash happened.
Russ immediately left the podium and began walking briskly through the corridors with several of his aides. "Sir, Air Force One is ready. However, our experts are advising against this flight and going to New York so soon after the...incident."
"With the unexplained explosion in Philadelphia and now this, the American people are going to expect action not cowering in some bunker in an undisclosed location!" Russ demanded. "We're going to New York."
Landsman and Orr walked down the corridor toward the room where Devon, Raymond and Adolph were along with Brenda, Elliott and Molly. Orr forcibly opened the door and stepped in. "Misters Grummett, Huxley and Jalali, I have just come from Times Square bearing gifts."
Orr's booming voice and abrupt entrance startled the Landsman kids but the immediately perked up when Landsman entered the room.
"Daddy!" they shrieked and ran to hug him.
Brenda slowly stood up with tears in her eyes and went over to her husband and hugged him. "Matthew, I am so glad you are okay," she cried.
"I'm glad you are okay, too," Landsman looked at his family. "I don't know what I would do without you."
"All right," Orr spoke up. "I brought the prodigal son here. What do we do next?"
"We get to D.C. and begin bringing down the Coalition," Devon said. "We can get ready tonight and start in the morning."
"How are we going to bring down an organization that flew a plane into Times Square?" Orr asked.
"It's time for President Russ to reveal to the world that the earth is flat," Raymond said.
Dylan Freeman, clad in a gray suit, approached a man at a hangar at JFK Airport. "Is the President here yet?" he asked.
"Not yet. What's up?" the man asked.
"We have information on who is probably behind the plane crash in Times Square."
The man was surprised. "That was fast. Did someone take responsibility for it?"
"No. In fact, this was masterminded by an American. I am from the FAA--Dylan Pierce," he flashed a badge quickly and then it was gone "and we've just determined who paid for the tickets for the terrorists who brought that plane down," Dylan handed the man a stack of papers and pictures.
The man sifted through them. "Matthew Landsman?" the man asked. "He used his own credit cards? That seems kind of strange."
"We think that's an alias," Dylan lied, "but we did find a picture of Matthew Landsman so we're hoping to broadcast this face everywhere within the next twelve hours. We just wanted to get this information to the President so that he knows what's going on."
"Well, I think that's him now," the man pointed to a low-flying aircraft aimed at the airport. "You should be able to tell him momentarily."
"Excellent," Dylan smiled.
The next morning, the Landsmans were preparing to leave for Washington when Devon, Adolph, Raymond and Orr came in. "We've had a change in plans," Devon said.
"President Russ has left Washington and he's currently in New York," Raymond revealed.
"Well, that's good, right?" Brenda asked. "We're already here."
"Yes, that's good. But that's not the problem," Devon sighed.
"Something happened last night while we were sleeping," Orr turned on the TV and changed it to a news channel which had Landsman's face plastered on the screen. "Matt has been turned into public enemy number one--well, number two after Bin Laden," Orr said.
"So now what are we supposed to do?" Landsman asked.
"We still go. Hopefully with Orr's influence we can quickly get to where the president is staying and tell him that it's time," Adolph said.
"What if we can't or he won't see us?" Landsman asked.
"Then we may have to go to Washington anyway and see the Vice President," Devon said.
9.
"Don't worry, sir. They won't get within a hundred feet of the President. Any indication that they are near, we evacuate the President," Dylan explained over his cell phone. "Yes, sir. I understand. Any means necessary."
Dylan hung up the phone and began meandering through the hallways of the hotel President Russ was staying at. No one else was staying at the hotel--Dylan had made sure of it and he was sure the Ptolemy Group would show up here to talk to the President. If they came, Dylan promised to destroy them.
"So how are we supposed to do this since Matt is now public enemy number one?" Brenda asked as they drove through New York City.
"We'll keep his face covered," Devon said.
"And we'll keep him protected. Don't worry, Brenda," Orr said. "This needs to end. There are more pressing matters to attend to."
"Have any more disappeared?" Landsman asked.
"15. Bringing the total to 197. Still just a small drop in the lake but something needs to be done," Orr said.
"Don't worry," Adolph said. "We'll get you help for that."
Dylan sat alone in Room 305 looking at his laptop. The outside of the hotel had cameras at every angle and Dylan kept a vigilant watch on his computer screen.
He noticed a van pull into the parking lot and a large group of people get out. One of them he immediately recognized as Matthew Landsman.
Dylan shot up and went down the hall to where the President was staying. "We have a situation!" Dylan said, bursting into the room. "We need to evacuate!"
"What's going on?" a Secret Service agent ordered.
"We have a situation in the parking lot. Matthew Landsman is down there--with more of his terrorist buddies," Dylan said.
"Who are you?" the agent asked. Several more agents gathered around. "You mysteriously show up at the President's hangar and have suddenly become second-in-command. I've never even seen you before," the agents started eying Dylan.
Dylan maintained his composure and looked the agent in the eye. "So you know everybody who works in the government?" Dylan asked angrily.
"Of course not but I do know all of the New York agents and I've never seen you before."
Dylan was stymied. Suddenly the President came out. "What's going on?"
"Matthew Landsman is here Mr. President," Dylan quickly answered. "We need to evacuate but your agents don't feel the need to."
The agents acquiesced and gathered around President Russ and led him out of the room.
"Landsman and his men are heading in the front door so you should leave out the back," Dylan suggested.
The first agent angrily looked at Dylan and when they were around the corner he pulled out his phone and dialed. "Hello? This is Agent Copeland. I need all the information you have on a Dylan Freeman. He says he works in the New York office but check every office and every government branch. Thank you."
Landsman, Orr, Huxley and Grummett walked over into the hotel. No one was around, not even someone at the front desk.
"This is kind of creepy," Grummett whispered. "What floor would they be on?"
"I say we just take the stairs until we find someone," Orr said.
"Why the stairs and not the elevator?" Landsman asked.
"We'll get somewhat of an element of surprise if we take the stairs," Orr said.
The four of them began climbing the stairs up to the second floor. They slowly opened the door and peered into the hallway but saw nothing so they went up to the third floor where they saw Dylan sitting in a chair in the elevator foyer.
"Dylan?" Landsman blurted out as the four stepped into the foyer.
"Ah, Mr. Landsman," Dylan stood up. "So glad to see you once again. I was so sure you'd be killed in our Times Square attack."
"You were going to kill me in that attack?" Landsman was furious and stepped up towards him.
"Yeah but it's so hard to find good help these days," Dylan shrugged.
"Where's the President?" Orr demanded.
"He's been safely evacuated."
"Evacuated? Why?" Huxley questioned.
"Because you four are going to blow up the building," Dylan smiled.
"No, we're not," Grummett said.
Suddenly, Dylan pressed a button on a remote control just as Orr pushed all of them back into the stairwell. Explosions rocked the hotel and they could hear portions of it collapse. The four of them hurried down the stairs and cowered under the stairs on the first floor as the building came down around them.
Brenda watched in horror along with her kids as the hotel turned to rubble. "Matthew!" she screamed and began crying. Devon had to hold her back to her from running toward the hotel.
Dozens of police cars, fire trucks and ambulances arrived at the scene within minutes. President Russ looked in shock at the remains of the hotel.
"That agent was still in there," he said in a hushed voice. "Freeman or something."
"Dylan Freeman is not an agent. I'm pretty sure he's the one who blew up the hotel," Agent Copeland said. "I had Freeman's name run through every database we have and only came up with DMV papers."
"So what are you saying?" President Russ asked.
A group of rocks began moving and Orr pushed his way out. He helped Landsman out and both collapsed on the pile of rubble. Their clothes were tattered and their faces bloody but they were alive.
"It's Matthew Landsman!" one of the agents shouted. "Arrest him!"
"Wait!" President Russ said. "My sources say that Mr. Landsman is innocent of the charges brought against him."
"Sir? He organized a hijacking that flew a plane into Times Square and now blew up a hotel," another agent said.
"Agent Copeland, if you will," Russ invited.
"Matthew Landsman is innocent of all charges because he was spotted at Times Square at the time of the crash, and he clearly did not know what was going on. I called Washington to do a search on our friend Dylan Freeman and he doesn't work for us. We have reason to believe that Freeman initiated the attack and attempted to frame Landsman," Agent Copeland explained.
"That's true," Devon walked up. "Dylan Freeman is the leader of a super secret organization called the Empire Coalition. I am Devon Jalali, leader of the Ptolemy Group. Mr. Landsman was unfortunately dragged into this mess after a meeting he had with Senator Collyer and former White House Press Secretary Thomas Snow."
"This is like something out of a movie," President Russ said under his breath.
"Mr. President, if I and my colleagues could have a few minutes of your time, we can tell you what all of this is about," Devon said.
"Tomorrow. At our new hotel we'll now have to stay at," the President said. "Agent Copeland will give you the information."
Landsman and Brenda hugged. "I can't believe it's over!" she cried. "I thought I lost you."
"Me, too." Landsman coughed and turned to Orr. "Thank you, Mr. Orr. I couldn't have gotten out without you."
"No problem Mr. Landsman," a smile quickly came and went on Orr's face and the man headed toward Devon and Agent Copeland.
Vice President Richard M. Warrick sat in his office in the White House, the only light coming in from the drawn blinds and curtains. The silence of his office was pierced by the ringing of his phone.
"Hello?" Warrick answered. "Really? No register at all? That's too bad. He was a hell of a terrorist," he chuckled. "Yeah, I'll figure it out. Everything's on hold until I say so. Yes. Long live the Empire..."
The next day Devon, Orr and President Russ met in his hotel room, the Secret Service within range but out of the room. "So why do we have to tell anyone?" President Russ asked. "It's a lie that's not really hurting anyone. Besides, do you know what ramifications are possible if those people out there don't take this news well?"
Devon and Orr looked at each other. "We get what you are saying Mr. President," Devon sighed. "But I think you should give the human race credit. I think a majority of them will be overjoyed to hear their government telling them the truth on something like this."
President Russ shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I think we should just let science take it's course and let the chips fall where they may. I have a country and a presidency to think about."
Devon understood. "There's one more thing, Mr. President," Orr spoke up.
"Yes, Mr. Orr?"
"Everyday more and more people are disappearing and no one knows what's happening to them. Something needs to be done," Orr began.
"I understand but no one has the resources to look for everybody in the world that has gone missing..."
"But these are not routine missing persons. These are people that vanish while on the way to work or while cooking dinner in their own house. These aren't runaways. These aren't kidnappings. These are disappearances," Orr explained.
"I'm not quite sure what you...?" President Russ but was interrupted.
"It was four months ago, my daughter, Linda, was spending the night at a friend's house. It was mid-afternoon and Linda was microwaving something. And she disappeared. Her friend saw no evidence of where she went and police saw no proof of an abduction and say what you will about my parenting but I am positive she didn't run away," Orr revealed.
"Well, I am sorry for your loss but..."
"And it's not just me. As of this morning 239 people have disappeared. And who knows how many more will today."
President Russ was silent. He then shrugged. "What do you want me to do?"
Epilogue
Two weeks later, Landsman woke up in his bed. The sun was shining brightly in through the windows. He got out of bed and put his robe on and went downstairs where he saw Elliott and Molly sitting at the kitchen table.
"Where's your Mom?" he asked.
"We don't know. We haven't seen her all morning," Elliott whined. "We're hungry!"
"Okay, I'll get you a bowl of cereal," Landsman said. "Where did Brenda go?" he asked himself quietly.
