“Your honor, we believe that the DNA profile on record for the terrorist Carl Palminteri may have been altered, which is why we cannot get a DNA match to one of the defendants.”
“You believe?” the judge replied. “May have been altered? What evidence do you have that this DNA profile has been changed?”
“We’re still examining the files, your honor.”
“I see,” the judge replied. “You really leave me no other choice, Mr. Kravitz. Miranda rights are sacrosanct. I cannot, and will not, allow the violation of a person’s Miranda rights. The defendants have an absolute right to remain silent and if they choose to do so, this court will not abrogate those rights. Motion for a court order requiring the defendants to submit to a voice print analysis is denied. Mr. Kravitz, you are hereby ordered to release the defendants immediately. Mr. Harrington, I see one of your clients is in a wheel chair. Is there something I should know in this regard?”
“Yes, your honor,” Charles replied. “My client was struck in the back of the neck with a rifle butt while handcuffed and in federal custody. My client was not resisting arrest and was not otherwise being disruptive. He was struck without provocation and has suffered a serious injury to his spinal column as a direct result of this attack by an out of control federal agent. Despite the obvious nature of my client’s injury, he was denied medical treatment for over seven hours while in federal custody.”
“Mr. Kravitz?” the judge said.
“Your honor, I have no knowledge of any of these accusations.”
“Of course not,” the judge replied. “Mr. Harrington, I presume you will be following this up?”
“Yes, your honor,” Charles replied, “we are preparing both a criminal complaint against the federal agent involved and a civil suit for damages and violation of rights.”
“Very well, then,” the judge said. “We are adjourned.”
The bailiff came over and removed the handcuffs from us. We immediately went over to John. “Right now I have two fractured vertebrae in my upper neck,” John said. “I have no feeling or control from the neck down.”
“Oh my God,” Tia said. “Is this permanent?”
“We don’t know,” John said. “There is a lot of swelling that is putting pressure on the nerves. We won’t know anything for sure until the swelling goes down.”
“What can we do to help?” I asked.
“The FBI is unlikely to return our computers any time soon,” John said. “I’m placing Carl and Tia in charge of the media center. Replace all of the computers and servers; get all of the programs downloaded from our offsite secure storage and get the website back up and running; same for the communications room. I have accounts with all of our suppliers, so money shouldn’t be a problem. If you need anything else, get with Charles.”
“We’re on it,” I said. “What else can we do?”
“Can the feds reverse engineer your firewall?” John asked.
“They can dissemble the machine code, which will give them the assembly language equivalent, but it’ll take them months to recreate the source code.”
“Okay,” John said. “Once the website is back up, add the second firewall, update the Trojans and reverse trackers. They’re coming after us — let’s see that they’re properly entertained.”
“You got it,” I replied.
“Meanwhile,” John said, “I’ll be spending some time in a private clinic, starting this evening. Charles will keep you updated on my progress.”
The servers were the last pieces of equipment to arrive. We paid extra to have them assembled and air freighted to Denver. The computer techs were busy running cables and downloading everything from John’s offsite secure backup storage. Once the website was back online, Tia and I returned to the cabin and started work on the second firewall. The computer techs would now have to use two usernames and two passwords, since the two firewalls operated independently of one another. Keeping the usernames and passwords different between the two firewalls made the system more secure.
We were just about finished with the second firewall when Ed came running into the communications room.
“John’s back!”
We bolted from our chairs and ran upstairs. A nurse in flower-print scrubs was helping John in the front door. She was short and cute with close-cropped black hair. John was still wearing the neck brace, but he was standing and walking slowly into the great room.
“John, this is a miracle!” Tia said.
John smiled, “Miracles come in all sorts of ways. What you see is the result of unconventional medical treatment.”
“What do you mean, unconventional?” Tia asked.
“Most damage to the spinal column is caused by the lack of oxygen, a natural result of inflammation. I just spent the last two days in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber with high dose vitamin C IVs. The swelling disappeared within six hours due to the vitamin C, and the hyperbaric oxygen brought the damaged tissue back to life.”
“So you’re going to be okay?” Tia asked.
“Yeah,” John said, “I’ll be fine. I’m just a bit wobbly right now, and I need to rest.”
“And the nurse?” Tia asked.
“This is Nancy,” John said “She’ll be staying with us from this point on. She’ll be part of our medical team, once we move into the cave. I’ll also be continuing the Vitamin C IVs for a while.”
“And your neck?” Tia asked.
“Healing,” John said. “The vitamin C is accelerating the process.”
“I didn’t know anything could do that,” Tia said.
John smiled. “Conventional medicine is only about fifty years behind the curve. Fortunately, there are some innovative physicians around who have the courage to go beyond what they learned in medical school.” John looked over at me. “How’s the new firewall coming?”
“Almost done,” I said. “We’ll be installing it late this afternoon.”
“Excellent,” John said, “I need to rest now, so if you don’t mind…”
We watched as Nancy helped him across the great room and into his personal section of the cabin. Tia and I headed back down into the communications room to finish the second firewall for the website.
Later that afternoon we rode down to Denver and installed the second firewall in the media center. The computer techs didn’t seem to mind having to login twice, considering the added security the system provided.
John, Ed, Tia and I were having breakfast when Alex, John’s communications officer, came up from the communications room.
“There’s something showing up in the news you need to see,” Alex said.
We followed him down and looked at the television screen. Police in black outfits were holding an older couple in their front yard as a large front-end loader drove over the chain-link fence and into their back yard. The camera image jiggled as the cameraman followed the piece of heavy equipment around the side of the house. In the back yard was a bunker, constructed right out of John’s Bunker Builder’s Book. The front-end loader began digging the dirt away from the concrete arch. A young reporter appeared on the screen with the front-end loader behind her.
“As you can see, the City of St. Louis has sent this piece of heavy equipment into the Jacobson’s back yard to remove the bunker that the city claims has been built without the proper building permit. The Jacobson’s claim that they did apply for the building permit, but the city refused to issue any permits for bunkers because there was no scientific proof that any meteor storm was coming. The city has had hundreds of complaints from people claiming that their neighbors are building illegal bunkers in their back yards. The city claims that these bunkers violate the building codes and are a nuisance. Last night the St. Louis City Council vowed to remove all illegal bunkers from the city. This is the first of more than a hundred bunkers to be removed throughout the city.”