Local time – 3:50pm, Saturday 16th June, 2011.
Tallinn, Estonia
When they left the airport, Phil turned west, off the main road to the old city. Soon they were on a newish looking highway, and heading further west, through the insalubrious mix of factories, warehouses and vacant land found on the outskirts of most European cities. Nothing like the romantic Tallinn Alex had expected. She didn’t usually suffer motion sickness, but Phil’s erratic driving and the fog of tension in the cramped van made her feel nauseous.
Henry’s manner was far more intense since he had revealed what they were doing, and his grip on her hand felt like a vice. She didn’t want to believe what they were saying.
‘They think they’ve got away with September 11, but there’s people out there still who know too much. We’re not going to be silenced.’ Henry could perhaps sense Alex’s continuing scepticism, so he turned to the back seat. ‘You tell her, Josh. You’re our 9/11 expert.’
‘Have you ever heard of building seven?’ Josh sat forward in his seat.
‘Bernie might have mentioned something....’
‘It was the last building to fall at the World Trade Centre. It went virtually unnoticed, only 47 stories. Silverberg, the owner, said they performed a controlled demolition with explosives late in the afternoon after the towers collapsed. Just because of some waste-paper fires. It’s all bullshit.’
‘So they didn’t bring it down on purpose?’
Yes, the truth is they brought the entire site down with controlled demolitions. Not just building seven. The towers were full of explosives before they collapsed. Did Bernie ever mention who the main tenant of building seven was?’
‘No.’
Josh let the silence hang theatrically for a moment and waited until everyone in the van was looking at him. ‘The CIA.’
Alex’s stomach lurched as Phil took a bend too fast. She pulled her hand out of Henry’s to steady herself.
‘I don’t understand. According to you, the CIA planned it all. Why would they destroy their own office?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? To destroy evidence and...’
‘And objectors, fifteen good men,’ Henry cut in, sounding angry. The terse silence that followed suggested to Alex how close Henry and Phil might have come to being among the dead themselves. Henry grabbed her hand back and Alex felt he was comforting himself as much as supporting her.
‘So you’re saying the CIA has now got a plan to use nuclear weapons?’ Alex couldn’t help but show her scepticism. She felt Henry’s whole body go tense.
‘The CIA is acting on behalf of the Bilderbergers.’
‘So the American Government’s going along with this? And what about the rest of the world?’
‘The Bilderbergers have got so much power that no government could stand against them. They’re going to use the nuclear weapons in another false flag attack.’
‘To attack who?’
‘Americans of course. They’ve seen what they can achieve when they build an environment of fear. Their goal is to merge the governments of the western world into one all-powerful body. A coalition against Islam. What’s the best way to form a coalition?’
‘A common enemy,’ Ryan chipped in.
‘Correct. Remember the coalition of the willing? That was formed with popular support. The Iraq war, the war in Afghanistan, these are just precursors to a much larger plan.’
‘But if they kill their own people, no one is going to support them!’ Alex exclaimed.
‘Obviously. But if they set up the attacks to make them look like they were a violent Jihad terrorist attack, who’s going to know the difference? When the government and the media feed us lies, unfortunately we’re very good at eating it up.’
‘Hey, we don’t all eat it up,’ Ryan protested.
‘No,’ Henry replied, ‘that’s why we got you on board.’
Alex turned to look at the serious faces of Josh and Ryan, and could see how intensely they believed in what they were saying. She thought about the many times she had started to write articles about the 911 Commission, and all the missing facts, but couldn’t find a way to structure a story that didn’t sound paranoid.
After a few minutes of silence, Alex noticed that the urban landscape had given way to countryside, and Phil accelerated. He had hardly said a word to Alex and his scowl barely concealed a simmering anger that frightened her. There was a GPS on the dashboard highlighting a westerly route. Phil studied it closely when they stopped at traffic lights and seemed completely preoccupied with navigation rather than conversation. But Alex’s curiosity gave her courage to break the silence.
‘Where are we going?’
It was Henry that answered. ‘To Paldiski. To see the army base. It’s the third one we’ve been to this week.’
‘Who’s army base? Estonia’s?’
‘No, it’s the Bilderbergers’ army.’ Henry spoke matter-of-factly but Alex was starting to feel like a child listening in on an adult conversation. She tried to keep her professional journalist wits about her when choosing questions from the endless list in her head, but all she wanted to do was let out an exasperated sigh of disbelief. Bernie used to love that sigh. This time Henry didn’t wait for her inevitable questions.
‘We know of sixteen bases, and so far we’ve seen two, one in France and one in Turkey. Turkey’s is particularly big. We estimate 30,000 plus troops.’
‘Turkish troops?’
‘Yes, but also others. It’s guarded by Swedes and Americans and there were Asians, possibly Malaysians, arriving while we were there.’
‘What are you talking about? What sort of army base?’
‘The Bilderbergers have built an army. After their next attack, the army will enforce the new world order. No more borders, we’re all going to belong to one country. One big weak, poor country. And we’ll be run by a handful of rich dictators who have one goal. Total obedience.’
Alex felt sick.
Henry, who now looked much less handsome to her, reached under his seat and produced an extraordinarily large camera, with a telescopic lens. He then pulled off his shoe and peeled out the inner soul. Alex watched him intently pick at some sticky tape on the foam to remove a memory stick. His argument was building to another level. He had evidence. He said nothing as he slid the memory stick into the camera and flicked through some photos, carefully choosing the one he wanted Alex to start with. He handed her the camera.
‘This is the French base.’
It was clear the photo was taken from quite a distance away, the telescopic lens working hard to bring the shapes and colours into focus. The scene was set behind a tall razor wire fence. Two heavily armed Caucasian-looking guards were in the process of locking a chain link gate behind a stationary white coach. The coach looked shiny brand new with no markings or branding. The windows were tinted black, like the car Alex had seen entering the Prague castle that morning. Three similar guards were apparently greeting disembarking passengers. Two were already off the bus, their backs to the camera as they walked towards a huge corrugated iron warehouse in the background. One more was on the bottom step, and the side of his face was visible. He wore the same dark green shirt and cotton pants as the other two passengers. Alex couldn’t quite make out his features, but his light brown skin and dark hair made her sure he was from South East Asia. She couldn’t tell immediately how she knew the man was happy, except he was shaking the guard’s hand and the guard was smiling.
She flicked right and saw the next few photos, which were of the same scene with more men getting off the bus. It did look like some sort of military base. And it was odd that there were Asian men being greeted by Caucasian men in a French facility. But this is not proof of an army. She could sense it wasn’t a good time to mention this doubt to Henry, as he was now talking more excitedly, obviously believing she must be convinced.
‘We’re going to let the world know what’s happening. When they wake up to the truth, they won’t be as easily used. The Bilderberg army might be big, but it’s no match for millions of well-informed and angry citizens.’
‘And how are you going to tell the world about it?’
‘That’s where Ryan comes in. Ryan, tell Alex where you work.’
‘In a place called Googleplex. Google’s world headquarters.’ Alex gasped and everyone but Phil laughed.
‘Jesus. You guys are serious aren’t you?’
‘Deadly,’ Ryan replied.