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Phantom

Everything was starting to fall into place. Everything from William Doherty and the Original Seven to the reason Max was the way he was. From his sadistic mother to the trauma he endured. It was too much for one child to handle, cultivating the man he was today. Instead of getting the help he needed, Max was forced to endure daily, knowing and living with what happened to him.

No person could mentally deal with all that and stay sane. Then there was the reason St. James had appeared out of the blue. His mother’s association with the Division and why he was so hell-bent on stopping them. The man was scary on a good day. Now that everything was coming together, I couldn’t be sure how St. James would react. Though my biggest concern at the moment was his grandfather’s association with the Original Seven.

“Before you ask, no, my grandfather wasn’t in the military. He worked for the state department under McNamara during the Vietnam era. When the McNamara files showed that the federal government knew they were losing the war, my grandfather wanted to go public with the information. If you know your history, you know how well that went. Anyway, my grandfather was on the team that compiled the information. That’s when he came across files of covert operations within the regime that proved the CIA’s hand in several off-book missions. Everything from drug running to selling weapons to known militants. The government was making bank, all under the guise of the Vietnam War.”

“That’s why the Original Seven were in Laos, Thailand and other countries besides Vietnam,” Bayou muttered.

“Yes. They were contracted with the CIA to move products in and out of these countries and facilitate new deals. My grandfather knew the Nixon administration would sweep everything under the rug. He knew that if the American public learned what their government was actually doing in Vietnam, there would be a massive revolt.”

“But the public did learn,” Ghost said. “The New York Times and the Washington Post broke the story. Hell, the Supreme Court ruled back then that the government could not suppress free speech, giving the newspapers the right to publish the McNamara Reports.”

“Which led to Watergate,” Shadow added. “And Nixon’s resignation.”

“It was a little more than that, but yes.”

“But that doesn’t explain why your grandfather is in this picture.” I asked, showing him the photo. “If your grandfather was such a good guy, why is he part of the Original Seven?”

“When the Original Seven were sent home, my grandfather was sent to bring them in. Certain people in the State Department wanted them to testify before congress on their dealings. They refused. However, my grandfather didn’t know the extent of their dealings with the CIA. The CIA wasn’t just running drugs and weapons. They were also transporting human beings. Selling them on the open market. They were brokering deals with known enemies of the United States. Every conflict, dust-up, war the United States has been in since was designed and facilitated by our federal government to throw off suspicion from their main agenda.”

“Which is?” Ghost asked.

“Population control.”

“Excuse me?” Massacre growled.

“The American public is under the misapprehension that they live in a free world. The fact is they don’t. When the colonial states formed the federal government, they lost control.”

“Wait a damn minute,” Shadow interrupted. “I know my knowledge of American history is a bit blurry, but you’re talking about the Constitution of the United States, right?”

“Before that. When the colonies settled in the Americas, states were formed. Each state had its own laws. The states governed themselves. It was actually called the Pilgrim Code of Law. It created an institutional framework with a general court, which elected a Governor and seven assistants that formed a council and provided trial by jury.”

“Okay?” Shadow said snarkily, clearly not understanding, but I knew where St. James was going with this.

It actually made a lot of sense.

“The thirteen Governors from the thirteen colonies made up the Constitutional Congress. Where the states governed and came together to create the first U.S. currency. Then the British imposed a series of acts, leading to the Declaration of Independence and the American Revolution. After the Revolution, the colonies formed the Articles of Confederation, establishing the first government.”

“Thanks for the history lesson, but what does that have to do with the Golden Skulls?”

“Don’t you get it,” I said. “The Articles of Confederation was comprised of representatives from each colony and those representatives established the first confederated government. Those same representatives made decisions for the states.”

“So, they do that now,” Massacre stated.

“And how’s that been working out?” St. James stated cynically. “Look, I don’t have the time to explain this in detail, so I will break it down for you. The first thirteen representatives were also known as the Society.

“Holy shit,” Massacre sighed.

“Now you know. The federal government isn’t looking after your best interest. In fact, because this club has gone up against Division and the Society, the Golden Skulls have been marked for extinction. They can’t allow any member to survive.”

“Why?”

I sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Because humans are curious by nature. If they allow one member of this club to survive, they know the possibility of them uncovering the truth is too great.”

“That’s bullshit,” Massacre growled, pointing at the Guardian. “I barely understood half of the shit he said and I don’t need it clarified. This shit is giving me a headache. Can we move this along? I’ve got cars that I need to work on.”

St. James sighed, throwing his hands in the air, saying, “And that is why governments can get away with what they do. No one wants to be bothered. No one wants to hold them accountable.”


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Dark