The Night Gods III- The Triumph Of Evil III: Intercept

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President Oliveira's nightly address was broadcast worldwide via satellite. The content varied little- the usual propaganda- carried by every media outlet on the planet... If you were watching between 6:00 PM and 6:30 you were watching 20 minutes of Oliveira and a 10 minute security update by Chancellor Behrmann touting the UN victories against lawlessness across the globe.

At the same time every evening, Bret Shoemaker broadcast the factual news throughout America, live via the darknet. In the US alone, he had infinitely more viewers than Oliveira... a fact not lost upon the UN President:

"I want these people found," he shouted at Behrmann slamming his desk with his fist. "If they continue to broadcast, how long before other countries will get the technology and follow suit."

"But, Mr. President," Behrmann protested, "Shoemaker disappeared before the war... His last known location was Washington DC, in the US. He may not even be in the country anymore... there's no way to trace the transmissions."

"Find a way," Oliveira told him. "Surely someone at the Ministry of Information can tap into it... they have the best computer technicians in the world."

"I'm afraid they don't, Mr. President, but I'll talk to Barnard," Behrmann replied. "I'll have him put his best people on it."

"What do you mean, they don't?" Oliveira asked impatiently. He wanted the broadcasts stopped and he wanted it now.

"I'm afraid, Sir," Behrmann informed him, "most of the best computer people have joined the rebels. But I'll get Barnard on it right away."

"See that you do," Oliveira spat and walked out slamming the door behind him.

Reginald Barnard, a Brit, was the Information Minister... the former head of the BBC and former agent of the now defunct MI-6. Behrmann drove to his office in downtown Geneva. Unlike many of the government agencies that were housed in the old League of Nations complex, the Ministry of Information had their own building downtown located in building that previously housed Switzerland's largest television station. It was the location of the nightly broadcasts, but inhabited only by Ministry personnel during normal hours.

Barnard's office was posh, befitting any Hollywood mogul. Barnard and Behrmann didn't care much for one another, but civility was a political necessity in these troubled times. Behrmann thought Barnard pompous, a typical arrogant Brit... Barnard thought Behrmann a neo-Nazi Gestapo type- probably perfect for the job he did. Behrmann was a spartan individual, given to severely cut clothes and sparse office furnishings- vastly different than Barnard's expensively tailored suits from Savile Row and extravagant office decor.

"I'm here on the authority of President Oliveira, Barnard," Behrmann began. "He wants those anti-government broadcasts in the US stopped before they begin to spread."

"And, my dear Behrmann," Barnard returned, "and just how does he bloody well propose to accomplish that?"

"That, is your problem," Behrmann informed the Brit. "He wants them intercepted and eradicated and he doesn't care how you do it... Put your best people on it."

"Just like that," Barnard replied scornfully, "just snap my fingers? What do you think they've been doing. They're untraceable- they reroute the IP address every few seconds. Besides, all the best people as you call them, are on their side."

"That's what I told the President... Look, Barnard- try to follow the money," Behrmann suggested. "Find out who's funding them- that's what I'd do."

"There's a problem with that too, Mr. chancellor," Barnard said sarcastically, "they're bloody crowdfunded... they money comes from everywhere."

"Just do it," Behrmann told him, turning to leave.

"Bloody Nazi," Barnard said under his breath.

In Arkansas, just as Bret was preparing for his nightly broadcast, another group of patriots was preparing for a mission of a different sort. Przybysz was leading a group armed with stinger missiles against a helicopter sortie near Ft. Smith. The Ft. Smith airport, once the home of the 188th Fighter Wing of the Air National Guard, was now the home of a helicopter squadron. The Hinds and Ka-52's flew in tandem on search and destroy missions looking for patriot positions... usually unsuccessfully- the radio transmissions were all intercepted. Tonight they would get a surprise.

The helos would fan out over western Arkansas and eastern Oklahoma looking for rebel activity using night vision and infrared gear. The Hinds and Ka-52's would usually be accompanied by a Cobra or two for air support. The ultimate plan for the militias was to eventually capture the airport and use captured airpower against the troops at Ft. Chaffee.

On this night, Przybysz and his group would split. There was a contingent from the Greenwood area who knew the area well and would come in from the south. Przybysz would lead the other group from the north. His group would escape by boat on the Arkansas River and transfer to vehicles by Van Buren, returning home by car taking a circuitous route up Hwy. 64 going through Alma. 64 was rarely used by the troops, it was heavily wooded on both sides and provided the militias with too many ambush points for snipers to pick off soldiers. The soldiers preferred the relative safety of the Interstate. The group from Greenwood would simply return to their nearby homes.

Having gotten intel from one of the local New Oathkeepers working at the airport, Przybysz and his men knew just where and when to strike. Leo Rosen had plotted the most efficacious route of escape. If everything went according to plan, both groups would be home before midnight.

A few months earlier a hacker/software developer originally from Belgium had come to stay at the compound. His name was Uwe Daelmans... When the war broke out he was a grad student in computer science at MIT working on his Ph.D. and active in the anarchist underground. When the war broke out he and his family- he, his wife and 4 year old daughter- escaped to southern Illinois before the bombs began to fall. When the occupation forces tried to recruit him, coveting his skills with computers. When he refused, they arrested his family along with him.

The peacekeepers attempted to use his wife and child to coerce him into obedience... when he still refused, the soldiers raped them both until they were dead. Of everyone at the compound, he hated the UN more than anyone. He was as brilliant as he was dedicated... the UN used surveillance drones to seek out suspicious looking movement.

Uwe had developed software that affected satellite transmissions altering the routes of the drones almost imperceptibly- only a degree or two- but it kept them away from the groups home and activities. If the drones happened to spot anything, it would be purely by accident. he had also designed the ever-changing IP addresses for Bret's broadcasts. While Przybysz and his band of patriots were helicopter hunting, Uwe was on a mission of his own...

"Hey boss," he called to David, "come look at this."

"I asked you guys not to call me that," David replied, "I'm just not the boss type, if you know what I mean. Now what's so all-fired important?"

"How would you like to be the next media mogul of the United States... maybe the world?" Uwe asked cryptically.

"What are you talking about?" David was puzzled, but almost everything Uwe did puzzled him.

"I think I just found a way... that is I just wrote the software," Uwe began, "to hijack Oliveira's signal... kinda like we do with the drones."

"You mean send them someplace else?" David didn't get it.

"No you dummy," Uwe was practically jumping up and down with excitement. "To replace them."

"Replace them with what?" David asked.

"With whatever you want to broadcast," Uwe told him. "How would you like the whole world to see Bret's news?"

"Are you serious?" David was getting excited now as well.

"I'm just waiting for your permission to test it," Uwe grinned, "Run it by Dick and I'll set up a test broadcast for tomorrow night."

"Why wait?" David wanted to know.

The algorithm is only for the simulcast, "Uwe said patiently. "All other programming is transmitted locally more or less. I can only intercept one transmission at a time. Oliveira's address is the only transmission broadcast universally."

"Yeah, but it isn't broadcast at the same time everywhere," David said perplexed. "There's a time lag programmed in to account for the different time zones."

"Yes, I know," Uwe shook his head wearily. He was used to explaining what he did to people who didn't understand, but it still exasperated him. "Once the signal locks on, it stays for the entirety of the transmissions- no matter where they are... it just keeps changing IP addresses every few seconds like it does with Bret's news broadcasts so it can't be traced. Uwe smiled proudly.

Dick, David, Uwe and their merry band of hackers waited with anticipation for the next evening's address. It got the highest viewership numbers since it began- news travelled fast via phone around the world... Instead of 30 minutes of Oliveira and Behrmann, they watched 30 minutes of uninterrupted cartoons- beginning with Steamboat Willie and old Mickey Mouse- Uwe's favorites.

https://steemit.com/fiction/@richq11/the-night-gods-iii-the-triumph-of-evil-forward-and-prologue
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GIF by @papa-pepper