Wednesday, November 20, 2013

...Not As Stupid As All of Us Together

     November 5th was the scheduled day for the Million Masks March  in D.C. and all over.  Dree received notification via That Damn Stan's Law Office that he was invited to testify at a Congressional Hearing regarding government surveillance of its' citizens as well as people and countries all over the world on the 6th.  Dree RainCave, that Damn Stan, Honey, and Kenneth arranged to meet in D.C. at their hotel in the lobby on the first.

     After a glorious reunion with Honey, the young couple set off for a subway ride to the mall and then a shopping trip.  The two men settled in their rooms and then rendezvoused at the bar for lunch and drinks.  "It's great to see Dree so happy," Stan remarked.  "He's been a bit moody and restless.  He is currently learning several languages and reviewing two more."  Kenneth laughed as he knocked back some gin.  "Most hackers have some sort of A.D.D. don't you know?" he told Stan.  Stan told Kenneth the
story about the hacked bamboo transformed into a fence.  The two friends both noticed an older silver-haired gentleman in a suit across the bar.  He appeared to be picking at some fries and pretending to drink a beer.  "t-r-o-u-b-l-e-?" Stan fingerspelled.  Kenneth nodded and took his glass from the bar.  Stan followed as Kenneth led the way to his hotel room.

     "I've checked already.  No bugs here," Kenneth said as the two settled down in chairs around the desk.  "Something about the Million Masks March and the pardon bother me,"  Stan confided.  "What if it's a set-up?"  The question hung in the air.

     "That bothers me too," Kenneth said.  "Several of the ninjahs were tweeting warnings about how 'one of us alone is not as stupid as all of us together.' And there were several bloggers sounding the alarm about some specific Fed informants who were expected to be at the March."  Stan drained the last of his beer.  It had been
getting warm.  "Hate that," Stan said, indicating the temperature of his beer.   "So let's strategize, shall we?"  That Damn Stan and Kenneth spent several hours  doing just that.

     Dree Raincave and Honey returned to the hotel just in time for dinner.  It was Kenneth who phoned them and asked them to come to his room.  "Yes, I've thought of that too," Dree confided.  "The pardon seemed a bit too convenient and so did the invite to testify.  Some days I think I'd be safer if I migrated to Russia."  Honey cringed but said nothing.  Together all four of the rebels went over the plans and contingencies.  Stan and Kenneth would spend some time over the weekend at the bars where senators and congress folk tended to hang out, wanting very much to pick up any scuttlebutt about the pardon or just what the President might have in mind for Dree RainCave.  Dree RainCave and Honey agreed to memorize a map of the march route along with nearby street names.  This was not their first direct action so they knew about kettling and teargas and hired agitators.  Honey spent some time carefully increasing the size of the eyeholes on the Guy Fawkes masks that the four of them would wear for the Million Mask March.  "Peripheral vision,"
she said when inquiries were made.

     Stan and Kenneth did spend a bit of time at the politicians' hotspots but were not rewarded with any news of illicit plans regarding Dree RainCave.  They certainly got an earful regarding a dozen Fed informants who were pretending to be Anonymous
members being sprinkled throughout the Million Mask March.  "Fuck the pigs!" Stan remarked as he and Kenneth stumbled back to the hotel on Sunday night.  "Up the rebels!" came an answering Anonymous voice downstreet. 

     Monday morning came around.  Dree and Honey were off to somewhere or other.  They refused to tell Stan and Kenneth what they were up to.  Stan and Kenneth spent the day scoping out the route of the March, making note of any undercover police vehicles nearby.  There was already a heavy police presence, much greater than usual for D.C.  Dree RainCave and Honey met them for dinner at a small local dive.  "Look," said Honey.  She showed off an antique wedding band.  "We did it!"  Stan raised his eyebrows.
"Congratulations!" Kenneth said.  He slapped Dree on the shoulder.  "You lucky dog.  Make sure you treat her well.  She makes great rhubarb pie you know!"  Dree chuckled.  Honey looked over at That Damn Stan.  "I won't be able to be forced to testify against him now in court, Stan."  Stan recovered himself a bit too quickly, "Yes, that's right Honey.  Wonderful!"  After dinner [yankee pot roast, carrots, mashed potatoes with thick brown gravy], Stan retired for the evening.  Kenneth wrote up an article for the paper.  Dree and Honey were in their room doing what lovers do.

     Tuesday the fifth of November dawned bright and clear.  After a group breakfast, Honey's altered masks were donned along with wigs of long black hair.  The quartet were dressed identically in black sweatpants and black sweatshirts, black sneakers, and black
socks.  They milled around the meeting area and soon the March began.  Everything was peaceful at first.  One of the marchers broke out some marijuana.  "Nooooo!" That Damn Stan hissed.  The joint quickly disappeared.  A scuffle then broke out behind them.

     Dree RainCave noticed the kettling first.  "Must go," he told the others.  They began walking backwards through the crowd and then snaked down an alleyway to the left.  At the back of the alley was a van.  "Anon Family Mobile" read the sign on both sides.  Music was blaring from inside.  Dree thought it was one of the albums made to benefit Free Anons.  He recognized White T. Cracker.  "Nerdcore!" he said happily and began to dance with the music.  He stopped suddenly.  "Oh shit.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit."  "What's
wrong?" asked That Damn Stan.  "Honey just went into that van," Dree said, watching her back disappear escorted by a large blond woman.  Kenneth held Dree back.  "Let Stan go in," he said.  Dree nodded but his face wore a troubled expression.

     Stan stepped into the van and very quickly backed away.  "Run!" he yelled.  Stan and Kenneth caught Dree RainCave by the shoulders and yanked him into going with them.  "But Honey--"  "Later," Stan commanded, "Keep going."  No one appeared to be following them.  The trio arrived back at the hotel.  Kenneth's room was becoming the favored meeting place.

     "Trap," Stan said after seizing the glass of ice water that Kenneth offered him and downing it in one quick gulp.  "Damnit," Dree RainCave muttered as he paced the  room.  Kenneth pulled the curtains and turned on the television.  The news made a
good backdrop.  "I'll go look for Honey after I change into my attorney clothing,"  Stan said.  "Kenneth, you call the friends we talked about.  Dree, you are to stay here.  In Kenneth's room, even if he leaves.  Got that?"  Dree said nothing.  "Answer me,
Dree."  Dree looked at That Damn Stan, "Yes," he said savagely and then resumed his pacing of the room.  "I'll stay here but only in case Honey comes back here."  Stan nodded.

     Stan departed for his own room and his lawyer suit.  Dree paced.  Kenneth made a few  phone calls and then laid down for a nap.  Dree paced some more.  Kenneth woke up at five o'clock and ordered room service.  "Pizza," he told Dree RainCave.  "All
hackers eat pizza."  "Whatever," Dree groaned.  "Whatever."

     Just then, a worn and weary Stan knocked on the door.  Kenneth let him in.  "Well?" demanded Dree RainCave.  That Damn Stan flopped down on the bed.  "Honey's been arrested--"  "For WHAT?" Dree exploded.  "Disturbing the peace, possession of heroin with intent to distribute, resisting, harboring a fugitive-- that's you Dree.  She is being held without  bail." Stan said.  Dree glared at Stan, "I must go see her."  Stan shook his head no. 
"Too dangerous.  And I think your 'pardon' is a ruse to flush you out.  Same as Honey's arrest."  Kenneth picked up the phone, "I'm calling for a car," he said.  "Dree, you've got to get out of here."

                                                             ~ to be continued ~

Thursday, November 14, 2013

The "Pardon"


                                                                ~ yesterday ~
That Damn Stan let out an Indian war whoop.  "Dree," he was practically screaming at him, "You're free!  You're free!"  Dree got up from his desk and ventured out into the hallway.  That Damn Stan kissed him and pulled on his shirt.  "Dude, you're all over the news."  Dree followed him into the living room where That Damn Stan was busy hunting down the local news.

Dree stared at the teevee.  "Wow," he said.  he slumped into the recliner and closed his eyes.  "That's it?" That Damn Stan demanded, "Just 'Wow?'"  Dree groaned.  "What are you going to do now?" That Damn Stan inquired.  Dree shrugged.  "Testify in front of those idiots in Congress, maybe spend the summer in Newark."  That Damn Stan raised his eyebrows.  "See if Honey
will marry me.  Then go live in Germany or somewhere for awhile." 

A picture of Dree Raincave flashed on the screen.  "You're going back to Newark?  I thought you hated it there," That Damn Stan mused.  "Yeah, in the slum and without Honey.  I'd like to give Newark a second chance.  Maybe spend a few weeks helping to clean up after Sandy.  That hurricane was a bitch," Dree RainCave said.  "Can I use the phone?  I'd like to call Honey."  That Damn Stan nodded.  "Help yourself, Dree.  You've earned it."

                      ~ to be continued ~