From the
The Internet lost one of its most famous conspiracy news pioneers this week to an apparent overdose of prescription pain medication, and over consumption of alcohol, police reports say. Victor James, owner and publisher of the web blog “What is Really Going On,” was found dead in his London flat Tuesday morning by his longtime girlfriend Alicia Newberry. Mr. James’ immediate family insists Victor did not drink, and they were unaware of his being on any type of pain medications. Miss Newberry affirmed these statements. Police have ruled the incident a suicide, and are planning no further investigations.
In related news, the website, “What is Really Going On,” was shut down yesterday after a legal injunction was administered by the English High Court. While it is rare indeed that the High Court would be involved in such action, Mr. James had been involved in an ongoing criminal investigation involving several foreign governments claiming security violations, espionage, and theft of government property. Attorneys for the prosecution asserted that all information contained on Mr. James’ blog were “embellished fabrications of fictional reports.”
Western United States
The routine days were starting to become monotonous. The training was fine, but Captain Keith Bishop did not become a green beret just for the training. At the age of twenty-eight, Keith would normally be considered a rather imposing figure standing six foot three inches tall, while carrying his muscular two-hundred and fifteen pounds with ease, if it was not for his mild and friendly demeanor. This quality, however, did not affect his cool determination and accomplished skill, which earned him recognition for valor in all three of his previous deployments in both South America, and Southwest Asia.
Keith was what they referred to as an ‘operator.’ He volunteered for any opportunity to go in the field, and opportunities came around more often than not lately. This was one reason why he was surprised by his new assignment to the 10th Special Forces Group. He did not request the transfer, and it had come through six months before one was due.
His first two months with the 10th SFG went smoothly. He knew a few of the men in the unit, and his commanding officer was one of the ‘good guys.’ Although he had put in for three separate missions, he was not selected for any of them. He had mixed thoughts about that.
He had only been in the house five minutes when the phone rang, “Captain Bishop,” he answered on the second ring.
“Son,” an older yet refined voice stated.
“Yeah dad, what’s up?”
After a short hesitation as if gathering his thoughts he said, “I’d like you and Terri to come by and have lunch with me. I’ll throw in a tour as well. Friday, 11:30; I’ll send a car,” he said leaving little room for being turned down.
“I don’t know dad. I’m not sure what the Colonel has in store for us, and I think Terri has duty at the hospital that morning.”
There was another pause as if his father was considering his words. These short moments were a source of anxiety for Keith, as he knew his father was used to getting his way, but would not show any disappointment in him if he did not. Keith did his fair share of things through the years to upset his father, and many times on purpose, but they always had a close, if not demonstrative, affection for one another.
“I ah… already talked to Colonel Williams and he said it would be no problem. Maybe you could ask if Terri can work something out. It would really mean a lot to me Keith.”
As he was about to get upset with his father, the General, calling to get some special time off for his son, he recognized there was something to this request beyond what was being said. And knowing his father, he would not know what it was until his father wanted him to.
“Okay dad, I’ll ask her when she gets home,” he said.
“Good. I’ll have a car at your door Friday 10:45am.”
“I know how to find the mountain dad.”
“I figured you could. But it would get you through security much quicker if my aide brings you,” he replied.
“Okay dad. I’ll see you Friday.”
When he saw her car pull up to the front of the house, he walked to the back patio and fired up the grill. He had burgers sitting on the counter, and the zucchini slices in a marinade. He only cooked on occasion, but whenever he did, it was on the grill. When he walked back inside, beer in hand, she was coming through the front door with an irritated look on her face. He knew it did not involve him.
“If that witch tells me one more time how to do my rounds, I’ll stick her broomstick up her ass,” Terri said as she walked in and tossed her purse on the couch.
“My, my,” he said while shaking his head disapprovingly. “Attached to such a pretty face is such a foul mouth,” he finished.
She stopped, looked at him as if he was really there, and not just something to talk to, and took a step forward, smiled, and kissed him. “I’m glad your home,” she said.
“Bad day, huh?”
“Everything else is great there. I really like everyone except for nurse ‘Ratched.’ Can you get me one of those while I go change,” she said pointing to his beer while walking out of the room.
One of the things he loved about his wife was her somewhat melodramatic way. She could make a simple trip to the store sound like a two-hour adventure movie. Plus, she could only hold onto a grudge, or be mad at someone, for the length of time it took an ice cube to melt in a closed fist. With that in mind, he knew she could handle anything in relation to her job. Even with him. She was a peacemaker and a nurturer at heart. It helped their relationship considerably because of the time he spent away and the work he did. She only ever wanted to know enough, but never too much, about what he did in any detail. That would have made it more difficult between them. But as it was, they really had a fine marriage.
When she reappeared, her long blonde hair was in a ponytail; she wore white pocketed shorts, a US ARMY T-shirt, and slip on sandals. Even in such simple attire, she was a beauty.
“Here you go babe,” he said handing her a beer.
She took a long sip, smacked her lips in satisfaction then set the bottle down. He knew he would either end up finishing it, or throwing it out. She seldom drank much, and that was good. She was so high strung and excitable that the few times she did have a couple of drinks, she went into overdrive. It could be quite entertaining, but she always suffered the next day.
“Mmmm… I’m starving, “she said as she walked up behind him placing her hands on his shoulders looking at the grill.
“Should be ready soon…. Dad called today,” he said.
“The General,” she asked turning her gaze from the food to him.
“Yeah. He wants to have us to lunch on Friday and give us a tour of the mountain. He is sending his driver to collect us.”
“Okay. Sounds like fun.”
“Don’t you have to work Friday afternoon?”
“No problem. I’ll just trade with Brenda. She owes me…. It’s about time you get to see him; once a year isn‘t exactly what you call close nit. If my family was here, you couldn’t get them out of the house.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he said, which was quickly followed by a sharp poke in his ribs.
“Seriously, you need to spend some more time together. It isn’t always going to be like this with the two of
