Chapter 6 - RATT

Back in his rented car four blocks from the Bropen residence, Keel reached into his left bicep pocket and pulled out his Blackberry. It looked like most others, but its guts had had some modifications done to it. He punched in an initial 6-digit number and then waited. After hearing a buzzing sound, three clicks made their announcement and were then followed by silence. Keel punched in another set of numbers. After only five seconds, the ringing stopped as someone answered on the other end. “It’s done, sir,” and then the phone was quickly shut off.

On the other end, Mr. Fremore, using a similar looking phone sat back in his leather high-backed chair. No smile of satisfaction was evident, just a look that conveyed business had been taken care of. No one would be listening in on that conversation, or any other made by these phones. Not even the renowned American NSA - National Security Agency, or as Mr. Fremore liked to think of them as, the Nefariously Sinister Agency. No other agency was as well known about, yet at the same time so unknown. The NSA could pinpoint any place on the planet, zero in on it, observe the activity, listen to any communications, and then disappear without leaving so much as a whisper that they were even there. This was also why the phones had made a detour through the NSA for subsequent modifications. It helped to have invisible Canadians in areas of influence within the American machine.

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About 25 minutes away, Karson was on what seemed like his 100th beer. The glasses never seemed to be empty. Someone was always topping them off. Usually Digger.

“Come on, Petrov. You can’t possibly believe that”, repelled Karson to Digger’s blanket statement that the States was in fact a dictatorship ruled by a few right-wingers who only wanted war for economic gain. Petrov was Peter Diggins’ other nickname, which came out of his more than left of left wing political beliefs.

“What more proof do you need? Afghanistan was nothing more than a setup for closing ranks on Iraq. And I’m still not convinced that 9/11 wasn’t an inside job either. Something smells bad south of the border”, spouted Digger.

“Even if Iraq was always in the crosshairs of some of the people in the elephant party, there is no way you are going to convince me that 9/11 was perpetrated by these same people. That it just evil”, replied Karson.

“Everything is about oil and always has been. It’s starts and ends with that, and the end will come. Those bastards in the White House are just trying to sap everyone and every country dry while they still can”. Jay, like Digger, had always been clear with his views regarding the present administration. “What really pisses me off is that for these kinds of people, never is enough. They’re all ancient old cronies who’s ending is hopefully near, they’ll have bled many countries dry while destroying whatever is left, and then what? We’re left to deal with the consequences. Fuck, fuck, fuck. To bad Mr. Environmental and the Election was Stolen From Me, wasn’t running again. He’d be my man for the office”

Shelly glanced over to Jolene. A look of boredom in her eyes. “It’s such a nice change to not talk about politics for once.’

Jolene smirked back and topped off Shelly’s glass.

“I find it funny that they are still trying sell this war on the premise that it was because of the imminent threat. What a joke. I would consider giving them an ounce of respect if they would just stand up, look straight in the camera and say, ‘Ok, we wanted the oil.’ What is it so hard for people to just say exactly what it is.”

“Except for all of you, of course”, again smirked Jolene.

Karson sat back in his chair. He took a swig of his ale in preparation for what was coming. He knew what was coming. It always did.

Digger let off another volley. “You should be the most pissed off, Shelly. You’re the environment science student.”

“Yeah, I am, but I’m tired of this conversation already. Jo and I are here to see if there are any lucky lotto winners, and we can’t do that if the aura around this table is shit.” Shelly had always very high standards for men, and rightly so, and so she had always referred to those possibilities as lotto winners. So far, no tickets had been authenticated. “Besides, what is your focus tonight? The environment, or oil?”

And there it was. Five pairs of eyes slowly turned to the wall-side chair. They all turned to Karson.

Karson was smiling before they even looked at him. Already prepared for that moment, he lifted his glass above the table. “Cheers!” Smiles broke out on all faces.

“You fucker. You knew that was coming”, let off Digger, who was wearing the biggest smile.

“Yup. The oil man you all know and love.”

“So when are you going to solve that molasses problem anyway, so we can leave the rest of the world alone,” asked a grinning Josh.

“Oh, well, since it’s that important, I’ll get back to it after this beer.”

“Dedication. Good man. This has to be the most fucked up table in this place,” said Jay.

“But that’s why we all get along so well”, said Jolene. “So, cheers.”

“Cheers.”

“Ok, so no more evil topics for tonight”, said Shelly as she picked up the pitcher to top off everyone’s glasses. “Why does politics have to make it into every beer-induced conversation we have. Peter, you’re a socialist, Karson, you’re a republican slash libertarian, Jason and Josh are hippies and Jo and I are trying to lower our inhibitions. And not for any of you.”

The hippie comment was thrown out to Jason and Josh only because of their extremely long hair. Other than that, they were far from hippies. Jason, with his straight long red hair was already starting to look more and more like the Archaeologist he was working to be. He had already finished his Masters degree and was now a PhD candidate. He had a quick wit and a very sharp mind that had gained him the respect from his professors. His friends embraced his wit.

“I agree with Shelly. Enough of this politics shit. Peter, why don’t you go find a woman to hit on”, said Jolene.

“Oh yeah. I’m always what the ladies are looking for. Maybe I should tell them outright that I want to sire their children, “ joked Digger.

“Well, you know Peter. One day you’re going to offer that up to someone, and they are going to take you up on it”, smiled Josh.

“I just hope he’s at least cute, Peter”, laughed Jason.

“Fuck you Jay. And fuck the rest of you. I’m going to find a hottie and she’s going to love me. And my beer Buddha.”

“Cheers to that Digger”, announced Karson as he raised his glass in praise of Digger.

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Sitting 3 tables over, Walker Stromberg watched. He couldn’t hear though due to the music that filled RATT. He didn’t care what they were talking about anyway. He just stared at Karson. A loathsome look in his eyes.