John O'Brien - Conspiracy

While upgrading the camp category level may not seem like much, it does mean additional surveillance and an operation to identify key leaders within the group. The command control supervisors will call additional operators into action and dedicate teams solely to the camp. One of the latest Keyhole satellites will be parked in a synchronous orbit for the time being. The high-definition images will be analyzed and the group’s structure examined. Over the next few days, she will have a clearer picture of their organization, and, more importantly, who is leading the group.

Information on the camp pours in. Gav pays attention to the C-130 group and, as she guessed, they pick up an AC-130. From the photographs, she observes that they have the Spooky II variant. She also notes they have picked up the other “D” category group located at Albuquerque.

Sitting in the control center, the room now more crowded than before with additional console operators, Gav pours through the file and information gathered on Camp B-US-1. The C-130 and accompanying gunship having already made it back to the Northwest and parked on the ramp at McChord AFB. High-definition photographs of all kinds fill the file she is leafing through. The ones she is currently interested in are the close up pictures of individuals.

After hours of watching video on the camp’s actions, she and the team dedicated to observing the camp have compiled an accurate assessment of the leadership. Seeing the satellite image she was looking for, she pulls it from the stack. It’s a picture of an armed man in black fatigues standing in the parking lot outside of the sporting goods warehouse, staring up at the early morning sky. He appears to be an older man, Gav guesses somewhere in his forties, and is the one that the overall consensus identifies as the leader.

Looking at the lower corner of the picture for the file designation, she pulls it up on the console she is working at. Opening the face recognition software used by the FBI and NSA, she crops the picture and feeds it into the software. Images whir on her screen as the software takes the image and begins its attempt to match it with the databases they downloaded from both institutions. She then rises and leaves in search of something to eat, allowing the software to do its thing.

Taking an extended break, she returns to her workstation, puts in her password, and finds a file waiting on her screen — Walker, Jack, Captain, United States Air Force.

That would explain the C-130 , Gav thinks, beginning to dive into the file.

Scrolling through the various records, she sees his transition into special operations. Some of the records have been partially redacted, but most of the early ones are fairly clear. His discharge papers come up. Her eyes narrows as the discharge date doesn’t exactly match his records. Some of the later reports, these heavily redacted, have recording dates after his release date. She tries pulling up some of the later files but is unsuccessful. She has the highest clearance on this system and should be able to read any military file.

She attempts several times and through different avenues but is still denied access. This intrigues her as she knows her own file is very similar to this one, although her official one lists her as deceased. The only information she can glean on this Captain Walker is from the file dates. They extend years after his “official” discharge and then abruptly stop. Yes, this one is very close to her own. She knows an intelligence profile when she sees one. Her eyes narrow further and thoughts race through her mind.

Yeah, this one is going to bear watching closer…an intelligence operator in charge of a post-apocalyptic group. That sounds familiar, and she’s not happy about it. She almost promotes the camp category to an “A” status but holds back. She knows his type, and there may be very little chance of them joining forces with her supervisor’s attitude toward maintaining power, especially after observing the other group’s activities and dedication to finding survivors to bring into their fold. If she and her group are going to have a chance in the long run, this one may have to go. She becomes excited with the challenge presented.

Later that evening, sitting around a large, redwood conference table, with her face reflected in its mirror polish, she looks at the other five around the table with her. The opulence of the room, from the heavy cherry wood book shelves lining the walls, to the thick, rich cream-colored carpet, define the men who are sitting with her. They are the ones who had controlled the world from the background and wished to control it from the forefront…the ones who formulated the plan and initiated its action. They had converted all of their vast fortunes into precious metals and other resources prior to initiating Phase One. The preparations for this undertaking had taken many, many years to bring to fruition…gathering the needed people, upgrading sites, bringing in equipment — military and electronic — gaining access to files on the upper echelons. They co-opted people in all of the top levels of government, and they did this all under the radar.

The elder men sit around the table and listen as Gav informs them about the monitoring activities as a whole. She gives them training updates, briefs them on their supply situation, which should last them for another year, and a myriad of other details which entail the functioning of the facility.

“Gavriella, tell us more about this camp you upgraded to category B,” one of the men states.

They are the only ones who call her by her name, and frankly, the only ones who have in a long, long time. She hates the name as she associates it with the girl who lost her parents. Every time she hears it, she feels a small part of her cry out for her loss. During many of her downtimes, when she was alone, she would pull out the only picture she has of her parents…the one she pulled from the wreckage of her house. Her cold heart would melt and hot tears would flow in streams down her cheeks. She feels a momentary pang of grief every time she hears her full name uttered.

Gav updates them on the camp’s activities to include, according to her findings and assessments, that they are being led by a former intelligence asset.

“So what do you propose to do about it?” another of the men asks.

“Monitor it for now. There’s not too much more we can do at the moment. We can’t attack them and, even if they were to find out about our existence, they can’t attack us, so it’s mostly a standoff. I think it’s in our best interest to leave them for the moment. However, I will reiterate this once again, and I know you may be tired of hearing it, but we need to start integrating some of the other camps we identify for possible inclusion if we are going to, as you quote, rise from the ashes,” Gav answers.

“You know the answer to this, Gavriella. Any integration will spoil the purity of our group and mission. We can’t have that. If we integrate other camps, we will then be required to share in the resources,” the first man states.

“You brought me on to be honest with you, and that’s what I’m going to do now,” Gav starts, feeling frustrated at their “purity of mission” and overly cautious nature. No, it isn’t being overly cautious, it’s called greed. “This rising from the ashes, as you think of it, and controlling resources is gone. It was a great idea, but that plan went by the wayside the moment the other sites failed to come online. We have had zero response from them, and the teams we sent to some of the sites show that they were never occupied. We can only assume that is the same for every other location. The personnel never arrived.

“Hear me when I say this. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, except what we have here. This facility was only meant to be a command and control center. We don’t have the resources to rise from anything. We don’t have the expertise or manpower. Satellite readings confirm that the Eastern United States, most of Europe, and Asia are wastelands, due to radioactive contamination. The small groups we have identified there are growing smaller by the day as the radiation levels kill them. The only places that appear to have escaped so far are Africa, although the states around the Mediterranean are risky, part of South America, Australia, the western United States, and Canada. There are a couple of minor South Pacific islands that appear habitable as well. However, you will note that we have only identified “D” category camps in those places, and very few of them at that. The infected created by the vaccine have taken their toll. Of those, there are plenty,” Gav asserts.