Fire on the Mountain, Act 3, Scene 20.

Chapter 20

Coney Island, 2017ce

Breuklyn Soviet

 

steampunk-surveillance

 

Anya Drovtich is flying. Literally rocketing down the Belt Parkway at 240 kilometers per hour. We use the metric system in Breuklyn Soviet now. She rips tarmac down the coastal highway.

The first article of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that,

 

“All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.”

 

Anya thinks at lightning speed:

 

I’d like to tell you that we live by that. I’d like to tell you how much I’d like to assure you that the work our men and women do is building towards that first article. But, I’d be completely lying. As my Ducati rips down the Belt Parkway toward my next meeting in the Green Light District, I know that while we are all born equal, very few of us were born free.

The Judeo-Christian-Islamic God, that over two million of our Breuklyn Soviet citizens still pray to says, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”

I rocket past a crew of ambulance workers attending to the collateral damage of abolishing the speed limit. I salute at 255 KPH.

The code of the school yard says, “Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

So who does one even believe these days?

There was once a very large strip club called “Flashpumpers” that used to be on Surf Ave, then it was called Squared, then called Foxy’s. The strip club itself was the target of a particularly grisly mass shooting a couple days prior when it was discovered that the girls had no union and were being pimped out on the side. A group of flicker hooded masked men executed every male employee and patron in the place, surviving witnesses claimed the attackers came out a tunnel under the kitchen floor. You can get just about anything on earth in the Green Light District, you can fuck animals, you can role play, you can acquire any conceivable cocktail of illicit pharmaceutics, you can engage in some pretty ancient Roman, Japanese hardcore, roaring 20’s shit;  but you can’t make people your slaves. Or dittle fuck little kids. Age of consent is still very much a universal 18 years of age throughout the Breuklyn Soviet.

Innocuously enough, just four blocks down is a small “Muslim Exclusive”, no alcohol on premises hookah café called Arabian Knights.

That’s where I’m off to.

I’ll have you know that I did not vote for the class order to have those mobsters gunned down. That was the death sentence of Erza Pula, the Albanian Chief of the Safety Section, or what Oleg   jokingly calls; the Committee for Public Safety.

Erza Pula has never been one flinch at killing slavers. My days of dealing in death are over. For the most part.

I park my black Ducati in front of Arabian Knights.

It was here, under the averted eyes of its elderly Chechen owner Sam “Ouju” Saladin that rebel engineers from the Breukland Soviet have built a smuggling tunnel complete with a functional subway three car Q train out an old maintenance tunnel all the way under the East River bed into the catacombs below the District Financial. Via this route Ysiad Ferraris will later this evening cross into the U.A.S. after his debauch at Drake Hotel with the Ivorite spy Toba Hadaad, not my favorite person.

I check my bike out front with the underage Canaanite valet Tariq. I nod to the door guards, members of the Party of God, I give them the A salaam Alekuum. They give me the courteous salute and Islamic reply. Then seal and bolt the doors behind me.

 

The entire place is an interlocking weave of curtained booths which bear an innocuous aroma of some unknown fruit, perhaps grape melon? Saladin, born a very long time ago in a Chechen town called Shali City cures his own shisha, or fruit molasses infused tobacco.

 

In the backroom of the Oasis Hade Bade, behind steel buttressed emergency doors, seated around a long table close to the ground are several partisans, some quite infamous at this stage for the desperate deeds they did to secure Breuklyn’s independence, others accomplices of lower profile. Though the audacity required for us to hold court on Russian Bratva district territory in uniform no less while recently having ordered the shutdown of several major brothels and gambling houses speaks to the brazen way Oleg Medved and I lead the Otriad these days.

Fair warning was given. The Green Light District went “union” six months prior and port tariffs were to be now collected at Port Coney and taxes were to be paid directly to the General Assembly. The Port may be owned by Perchevney and his people, but the District Coney Island was established long ago as Breuklyn Otriad turf.

 

Article twenty three clearly states that everyone has the right to “a fair wage, in a safe environment and to join a trade union.”

 

I am clad in my dark blue fatigues and along with burly well-dressed Oleg Medved and am briefing our assembled associates. My associates at this particular palaver are Kaveh Ali Shariati Atatable, a Persian Revolutionary Guardsmen cross affiliated with the Z.O.B. and the Party of God, the Indian-Yid televisionary Nicholas Mapfre; the recently elected Chief Communications Officer of the 18th Congress, and Hassan Askeri, Bangladeshi millionaire business man and Vice President of BRAC; the world’s largest NGO. Along with seven newly arrived commanders from the Party of God, the Persian backed Shi’a paramilitary organization that is one of the Z.O.B.’s closest allies. I am entreating them to produce a “Goebbels quality inter-web marketing campaign.”

We are about to let the cat out of the bag quite publically.

Oleg Medved is smoking a Cuban cigar. He has little taste for hookahs. And even less for shifty endless political negotiations, especially when they involve the Brotherhood of Muhammadian and the so called Party of God. His thinly veiled contempt for meetings is only subsumed at times for his respect for me. Anya Drovtich.

Kaveh is a heavy set and muscular Persian with a well-groomed mustache.

Nicholas Mapfre has long black hair. He smiles mischievously when asked questions that make him uncomfortable, like how many wives he has. Hassan Askeri has a boyish, preppy look to him as though he has stepped out of a Bollywood film, befriended some red radicals and fearlessly supports us even if just for the sake of danger, prestige and the sex. The seven revolutionary guardsmen present are all clean shaven and olive skinned.

 

Nicholas Mapfre went to Bronx Science and was a founding member of the original Club, albeit more of silent partner until four years ago when most of his childhood friends were martyred before and during the rising. Kaveh has been a card carrying Banshee for years before he returned to his beleaguered nation Iran to enlist in the Revolutionary Guards after a brief career in yellow journalism. Hassan encountered Sebastian Adon on the Q train mêlée in 2008 and their lives were shortly ever after bound together via thought crime and punishment.

 

I am standing, leaned against the wall; hand on my hip, hand holding open a micro brief. My lips painted are up in red lip stick and my dreads are covered in a red Hijab. Oleg Medved is intermittently reading a Russian poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky on his smart phone, while scrolling between the quasi erotic pictures of his last fashion shoot, while then sky paging one of his modals to meet him later at the Drake Hotel.

He looks vaguely tired.

Yet always stalwart. Ready to do what must be done.

Quite a stalwart droog.

As per usual I brief them multilingually and using Spectra Point; the 3d graphics system designed by Google right before they succeeded in fully turning over control of the internet to the Obama regime’s N.S.A. It projects holographic displays and is far more engaging than the data delivery systems preceding it.

Before he was brutally tortured on national television Dan Fried the martyr had open course improved on it. Right before he successful hacked into and eliminated the entire big data holding of the NSA two years before the Great Disorder.

“Brothers, let me begin by positing two variables which must be brought to bear immediately. We are as you know about to move ahead with these latest clandestine machinations. First, if the camera isn’t rolling the whole goddamn time, if people cannot tune constantly into our revolution rolling live stream on the inter-web; see with their own eyes not just hear about it on the Fire Station; if they cannot identify clear protagonists, clear protagonists that they at times get to see partially naked; take in the veritable laundry lists of resistance faction acronyms and see this whole bloody, bloody show down as an epic battle between “Good” and “evil”; human freedom v. oligarchic collectivism well then I suspect that we will all die in shallow sandy graves as the true blue “international cohort of Islamists, subversives, anarchists, commies, and nigger loving terrorists” the U.A.S. media already proclaims us to be,” I, Anya Drovtich, Section Chief of Information and Intelligence of the Breuklyn Otriad’s 18th Congress inform them.

I clearly have a way with my words.

But, I did not always.

“We are asking you as some of our most obviously capable cinematographers and media experts to develop the capability of live streaming the entire guerilla invasion of a major African country to take place approximately six months from now. We are also requesting Persian support in training the local people of that country in the finer arts of guerrilla war. And all this needs to be accomplished within the next six months. Understood?” she asked them.

“Five by five,” responded Kaveh Ali Shariati in Farsi.

 

Switch perspective.

 

Oleg Medved is watching Nicholas Mapfre, Hassan, Kaveh and the seven Guardsmen pass the Nagillah, the big blue water pipe filled with Grape-Mint tobacco back and forth. His girlfriend slash modal slash concubine texts him back that she can be at the Drake at 23:00.  He doesn’t need to tell her to bring the cuffs and Stolichnaya Premium. Anya always has everyone’s undivided attention except his.

But he’s her left hand man. Her best asset. Especially since his erotic tiff with Erza Pula Pound, the Albanian Safety-Security Chief. Another lesson of don’t fuck where you eat. Don’t ravish a woman who has her own army if she might fall for you when you don’t believe in such things as monogamy.

Oi.  

            What a headache.

            Nicholas Mapfre, guerilla film maker of the People’s Television Network, long time club member is certain that without the proper utilization of information technology it will be impossible to get good data out of the war zone and utilize it as propaganda to trigger the chain reaction of uprisings so critical to the victory of the militant human rights movement.

Anya fills the room with her vibrations.

“A quick parable before my second point,” she says.

“Years ago, in the Cinema Rex fire, the Cinema Rex in Abadan, Iran, was set ablaze, killing over 400 individuals, horrifically burning them alive while trapped inside.”

“The then ruling shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, said that Muhammadian insurgents set the fire, while many blamed the country’s intelligence service, Savak. There is speculation over the actual number of casualties incurred during the fire. Various sources draw their own conclusions concerning the death toll. A 1980 Amnesty-International report states that there were 438 victims, including individuals who were tried and wrongfully executed after the fire itself.

“The fire itself was “the third-deadliest terror attack in modern history,” after only the 11 September debacle. And a certain subsequent recent event called the Millennium Theatre Hostage crisis with which you are all now surely familiar with.”

Oleg Medved even hearing that phrases like “11 September” or “Millennium Hostage Crisis” gets a bad taste in his mouth. Since his unit organized both of those attacks.

“There have been many unfounded allegations regarding the circumstances which led to the Cinema Rex fire, but it is certain that it was a key event that triggered the Persian revolution. One such allegation claims that Mossad-trained Savak agents were in pursuit of individuals who ran into the movie theatre and used it as an opportunity to hide in a large crowd at the cinema. Later, either the fugitives, or the Savak agents chasing them decided to lock the doors of the cinema, and a fire was started in the theatre presumably by the fugitives. Unable to escape from the building, everyone inside the cinema died as a result of the conflagration. Another speculation is that the Savak simply bolted the doors and burned the place down themselves hoping to stoke local anger against the resistance to the Shah.”

She pauses and then says, “Second point. Not only do we require People’s Television and the Persian Revolutionary Guard to design, bank roll and administer the sophisticated media logistics for the world’s first live streamed international guerrilla war; we need you to produce a very, very moving film. And quickly. Something to make your Kony 2012 piece look like Saturday morning cartoons. I am asking you on behalf of the 18th Congress of the Club’s Executive to produce such a film juxtaposing the Cinema Rex fire in Abadan; the September 11th martyr operation; and with the Millennium Theatre fire of three years prior. They are not really all that similar in technicality, but the purpose of this film is to win international hearts and minds to cause of our micro-republic. We want a film that makes foreign nationals and their leaders want to help us. Because if we’re going to simultaneously keep the U.A.S. Federal government off our backs, keep things moving along plan, and attempt to liberate a certain country in the Caribbean, well were going to need the help of the Persian Revolutionary Guard Corps. And movies, as you three gentlemen know are the way into all human hearts and minds.”

She sold them before they walked in.

 

Three years ago, 808 American civilian hostages and 24 rebel fighters were killed in the Millennium Theatre in a 72 hour hostage crisis on the eve of the ceasefire which led to the Breuklyn Soviet Microrepublik’s establishment. The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) had pumped some designer paralytic gas into the besieged theatre to supposedly incapacitate the hostage takers. At some point either the rebels or the Federals storming the theatre triggered an explosion in the ensuing exchange of gun fire. Blame went both ways obviously. As 800 plus 8 people lay in various degrees of incapacitation a fire swept the theatre. Virtually everyone perished.

 

The few civilian hostages that the FDNY rescue medics managed to pull from that inferno were dead shortly after from the incapacitating gas. It was virtually impossible for either the media or the DHS to differentiate hostage from “terrorist”, but 832 bodies were recovered from the smoking rubble of Broadways most prestigious new play house.

In reality 808 American hostages did indeed perish mostly from the gas used by the U.A.S. Federals and subsequent exchanges of gun fire. Of the 24 Otriad rebels that took over the theatre for 72 hours, none of them allegedly made it out alive. And two that were confirmed killed by the national press and DHS were none other than Maya Solomon and Sebastian Adon. The principle founders of the Breuklyn Bath and Rifle Club’s New York and Middle Eastern Branches.

The partially burned remains of the two famous “master terrorists” were confirmed by genetic matching the corpses and dental records. 832 bodies were recovered. Many riddled with bullets, many partially burned. Thus leading the FBI-DHLS to believe they had killed two major leaders of the national uprising called “The Great Revolt” which by that time had been bleeding the nation or three years.

But, the coroners of the DHS were tricked and mistaken. These were body doubles. Flesh bot clones of the 24 operatives taking the theatre by storm. Husks grown with no souls used primarily as replacement parts or sex toys for rich lonely sickos.

Adon, Solomon and 22 others made it out through the sewers shortly after the gas came

rushing in. These were students of history. They remembered what had happened in Moscow in 2003. They brought respirator masks with them. They left bodies, flesh husks for the authorities to find.    History only repeats itself when allowed to.

Nicholas Mapfre, Kaveh and their cocky, vaguely charming playboy partner Ryder Haske did terrific work throughout the battle for Haiti, the great revolt and their unrelated tear jerker KONY 2012 on the subject of the Lord’s Resistance Army of Uganda raised 37 million dollars for the  club from unsuspecting liberal American college students. Given unrestricted access to Iran and its national archives during an unusually scary year of nuclear saber rattling between Iran, Israel and the UAS their movie had finished and screened as “humanizing tour de force” during a period of “globe shaking ethno-religious jingoism” right before the partisan invasion of Haiti was to commence.

The message was to juxtapose the pre-revolutionary excesses of the Shah with the sinister Project for a New American Century-Mossad 9/11 Martyr Operation along with the brutal conduct of the U.A.S. Federal government during Iraq, Afghanistan, and the Great Revolt, exemplified by the Millennium Hostage Crisis a showcase of “state sponsored acts of terror”.

The film was beyond risky.

It was to be well-researched and also be sexy, fun and available for free on YouTube. And it was a polished piece of populist propaganda. It would be obviously firewalled in the U.A.S., Russian Federation, and People’s Republic of China, but by that time almost everyone on earth besides those living in North Korea still had unrestricted clandestine access to “the inter-web”; the people’s last free open source conduit of information now that the oligarchy had Silicon Valley in its war pocket and controlled completely every log in, every search, and every correspondence on the internet.

Even a U.A.S. citizen in the Midwest couldn’t help but sympathize with the people of Breuklyn bombed into the ground for months, killed by the tens of thousands, living in bunkers fighting in ghettos, and trenches and then the sheer audacity of us mounting four sophisticated hostage take overs in New York, Los Angeles, Chicago and Washington D.C. that all resulted in the seizure of some the nation’s wealthiest citizens, celebrities and politicians.

 

“Especially since that same vile clique of Bohemian Grove American oligarchs had just over a decade ago organized a massive terrorist attack on their own citizens on the 11th of September 2001 to send the country to permanent war and strip the nation of the last vestiges of its civil liberties,” notes Anya Drovtich.

 

The deadly martyrdom of Adon and Solomon, confirmed dead in the Millennium inferno caused by U.A.S. heavy handedness would now be exposed as a clever charade to conceal two of the top architects of the human rights resistance movement.

This was to be an epic film.

The blackest cat is now out of the bag.

“If we hadn’t all seen it coming and already had so much data to choose from I’d tell you this couldn’t be done in the time frame you’re suggesting. However, I think we all saw this coming,” states Nicholas Mapfre.

One of the nameless Persian guardsmen chimes in, “it is always said they were very, very hard people to truly kill.”

 

“That 808 American citizens died in a crisis we initiated is obviously still a major open sore for the U.A.S. pundits, politicians and right wing. Even if most of them were upper east side elites,” notes Kaveh Ali Shariati, “that it resulted in rapid succession of sixty four eastern free state territories, several of which with nuclear weapons is a real talking point too.”

 

Everyone was still getting over the September 11th Attack that launched the rather limitless and global war pitting the United States against the entire Muslim world. But this was the Post-Snowden IT AGE, so unlike in Moscow in 2003 when the F.S.B. pumped gas into the Budanov Theatre and killed several hundred of their citizens, or when China blacked out over one billion internet users from knowing what was going on outside of China, well they can get away with less now, cameras will always be rolling and we have the inter-web to ourselves. No paid advertisements allowed.

 

“The film will blame the oligarchy for ultimately forcing civilians to become terrorists and revolutionaries. It will profile Cinema Rex in Iran, the Budanov Theatre Hostage Crisis in 2003 of Moscow, and expose the details of September 11th, 2001 and the events of the Millennium. It will finally stress just how “not quite dead” Adon and Solomon are and set up the interest for the third wave; our irregular invasion of Haiti,” explains Anya.

Interestingly enough, it was not the deaths of 808 rich, very rich New Yorkers at the Millennium, or the threat of setting off a very real nuclear device in Washington DC, or even that President Obama’s family was amongst the hostages seized there. The working group that took over the Democratic National Convention in Chicago was holding upwards of 8,000 hostages. That wasn’t the issue.

What finally led to the pressure to bear to end the crisis didn’t even come from Los Angeles. By taking over the Academy Awards the rebels were in a position to murder most of the nation’s Hollywood celebrities.

Or the nuclear test detonation in the Ocean outside Washington D.C. irradiating the city for the next eighty years half-life.

In the end, shortly after the full scope of the plot came to the attention of the nation’s security and intelligence community. A high level bureaucrat from the Department of Homeland Security called the wealthiest men in the country to brief them on the developments. Of course the media had been having a feeding frenzy already, but not everyone knew about the bomb in the capital.

In the end, not the military, not the security state, not the President, but instead the richest man in the nation, an anonymous man whose name you would never even recognize, he weighed the stakes, conferred with a few business tycoons and theirs lawyers in a thatched hut of the Bohemian Grove and they called Obama back an hour later.

 

“Give them all the sovereignty they can swallow,” was the message of the elite at least in the beginning.

 

The President was informed that the intelligence community and the military would be unable to stop the three working groups in Chicago, D.C. and L.A. from carrying out their directives. It was thoroughly advised that the President declare an official ceasefire with the separatists, end the siege and deal with the rebels decisively in “his third term in office.”

 

The ceasefire came 72 hours after the blood bath at the Millennium. The rebels along with a choice batch of some celebrity, athlete and political hostages as well as three atomic weapons built in the University of Stonybrook all took trains back to Breuklyn. Three years had passed without so much as a shot fired between the U.A.S. and the Breuklyn Soviet. The purge had occurred abroad, and it was almost complete.

 

103 dead war criminals according to the last reports. One more to die in Moscow before the evening is over.

And then three months ago the mysterious killings began. In just three months howling lunatics had slaughtered as many innocent people as our Sicarri had tracked down in three years.

“We will have the film ready to premier in six months,” states Kaveh, “as for the Guard supporting your so called ‘Operation Marcus Garvey’; we will have to wait and hear from the supreme leadership in Tehran.

“We will bring your proposal to our leadership this evening,” states Sayyid Ghaffarian leader amongst the Guardsmen secretly deployed in Breuklyn Soviet, “I suppose a serious question to ask is who exactly will pay for this risky venture?”

“Everyone’s gonna end up paying for it,” mutters Oleg Medved.

 

But he isn’t talking about the money.

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