The Punishment chapters 29 Epilog
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B7 Chapter 15 Epilog - Washington free porn video
Chapter 15: Epilog - Washington
The cigarette smoking man smiled as he drove to work at the Pentagon on Monday morning. All in all, it had been a very good week for him. Although he couldn't be there to see the shit hit the fan in person, he had a very good idea of what had happened recently on the Island in the Bahamas. The intelligence satellites and the information systems at the Pentagon could keep track of just about anything on the globe, after all. Not many people on the planet had known about the starship that was recently in orbit about the earth, but his agency was one of them.
His contacts in the Bahamas had reported the arrival of six unknown women who were obviously foreigners, and had an accent that no one could quite seem to identify. They had paid for everything with credit cards; even at fast food places.
There was some confusion when they rented a boat, and headed northward, into what was supposed to be just open seas. Then he had called in a few favors, and seen recent satellite shots of the area. The supposedly 'secret' island was still there in plain sight. He had to give whoever owned it credit for keeping it off of the recent maps and charts.
There had probably been hell to pay when the Vectrans finally caught up with the ones they suspected were using their technology without their consent.
He chuckled to himself as he went over recent events in his mind. Mulder and Scully still weren't any closer than they had ever been to uncovering any of the well-laid plots and various conspiracies that he'd orchestrated, with the former almost completely out of the picture now. And the new team, Doggett and Reyes, certainly weren't any better than their predecessors.
Barocca and all of her little group on the Island were a minor annoyance at most to him. The chain of command in the agency had been very pleased with him over the recent events.
The only disconcerting thing was that he hadn't been able to remotely log in, to check his voice mail, or access his PC, which he knew he'd left on, over the weekend.
"The damned janitor's probably knocked the cables out of the wall socket again, when they vacuumed," he thought. "It's ironic. We have one of the most secure buildings on the planet. A fly can't get inside there, that we don't know about it. And yet, some custodian who doesn't even speak English has the keys to the kingdom, and can go anywhere he pleases. Probably even some places that I can't get into."
He parked in his reserved spot, and rode the elevator up to his floor. Although he couldn't smoke in the Pentagon, he could still have a cigarette in his mouth, as long as it wasn't lit. He smiled and nodded to several co-workers as he strolled down the corridor to his office.
After he opened the door with the key, and turned on the light switch, the cigarette fell out of his mouth, onto the carpet. He was staring at a scene of utter destruction.
The massive oak desk had been reduced to a pile of kindling wood. No piece was larger than an index card. Every picture and painting on the walls had been smashed. The frames were reduced to warped shapes of metal that looked as though they'd been exposed to tremendous heat.
The pictures and photos in the frames, as well as every other paper item, had been shredded into confetti that wasn't any bigger than a postage stamp, and occupied a large pile in the center of the carpet.
The computer and all its hardware and peripherals had been systematically taken apart, and every component was smashed to bits. The metal filing cabinet looked as though some giant trash compactor had been used on it. It was now no bigger than a wastebasket.
Every item of furniture in the office had been given the same brutal treatment. The only thing that had been left intact was the door and the window.
As he walked around the room in shock, surveying the damage, he noticed one item that seemed to have escaped the vandals' wrath.
Lying on the floor was a large manila envelope, with his name written in bold letters with a felt pen on it. Taped to the front of the envelope was a handwritten note. It was obviously a woman's writing, from the flowery, but still very legible script.
"This is to inform you that we have successfully recovered our missing technology from the individuals you indicated to us in the Bahamas recently. However, once we cleared that matter up with them, they informed us where they had originally obtained it, and that led us back to you.
"As you will recall, we made it quite clear that we would not tolerate our technology being used without our consent. We were also extremely angry that you had broken your word, when you and other agencies insisted that all technology had been destroyed on the explorer ship Vega, which crashed on your planet, over thirty years ago. This was obviously not the case. And we feel that if one i*****l copy of our technology exists, then there are certainly others as well.
"What you see before you is both a warning and a demonstration of our abilities. The fact that we have been able to enter your most guarded Government building at will, and inflict this degree of damage, should be an ample indicator of our temperament and our power.
"We feel that you are a reasonable and intelligent man. We are leaving instructions to you, to ensure that whatever remaining copies of our technology still exist on your planet, that you ensure they are all destroyed immediately. We are quite certain that you can manage to locate any other missing copies of our technology through your influence and connections. To be certain that you perform your duties, we offer this motivation for you.
"We will be maintaining surveillance of your planet in the future, as there is a possibility that we will consider contacting Earth, for membership in our Federation. As of yet, we do not consider your race advanced enough and mature enough, but this may change in the future.
"Should we come across any other indications that your race is using our technology again without our consent, we will return.
"In order that you understand the seriousness of the matter, we suggest you look at the documents in the manila envelope."
He opened the manila envelope, and examined the documents inside.
Among other things, it contained: copies of his tax returns for the last ten years. Itemized lists of every phone call and e-mail for the last year. Detailed information on every project, con-spiracy and cover-up he had participated in for the last five years. Page after page of contacts, agents and co-workers he was associated with, including detailed personal data on all of them. It listed all of his addresses, and assumed names and aliases he had used since he had started with the agency.
There was a list of everything he'd purchased with his credit cards, both on-line as well as in stores. They had also produced a detailed list of everywhere he'd been on the Internet, both at home and at work. There was also an extensive list of data on his personal life, detailing everything from which grocery store he shopped at and what he bought, which television programs he watched, which magazines he subscribed to, and which two videos he had rented over the last weekend.
There were also similar packets of detailed information on his wife and other close family members.
"If you do not comply with our instructions, these will be made public to the media, as well as given to numerous foreign governments and other intelligence agencies, whom we are quite certain would be very pleased to see them. We will also take that occasion as an invitation to visit you personally.
"Sincerely yours, The Vectrans."
The cigarette smoking man smiled as he drove to work at the Pentagon on Monday morning. All in all, it had been a very good week for him. Although he couldn't be there to see the shit hit the fan in person, he had a very good idea of what had happened recently on the Island in the Bahamas. The intelligence satellites and the information systems at the Pentagon could keep track of just about anything on the globe, after all. Not many people on the planet had known about the starship that was recently in orbit about the earth, but his agency was one of them.
His contacts in the Bahamas had reported the arrival of six unknown women who were obviously foreigners, and had an accent that no one could quite seem to identify. They had paid for everything with credit cards; even at fast food places.
There was some confusion when they rented a boat, and headed northward, into what was supposed to be just open seas. Then he had called in a few favors, and seen recent satellite shots of the area. The supposedly 'secret' island was still there in plain sight. He had to give whoever owned it credit for keeping it off of the recent maps and charts.
There had probably been hell to pay when the Vectrans finally caught up with the ones they suspected were using their technology without their consent.
He chuckled to himself as he went over recent events in his mind. Mulder and Scully still weren't any closer than they had ever been to uncovering any of the well-laid plots and various conspiracies that he'd orchestrated, with the former almost completely out of the picture now. And the new team, Doggett and Reyes, certainly weren't any better than their predecessors.
Barocca and all of her little group on the Island were a minor annoyance at most to him. The chain of command in the agency had been very pleased with him over the recent events.
The only disconcerting thing was that he hadn't been able to remotely log in, to check his voice mail, or access his PC, which he knew he'd left on, over the weekend.
"The damned janitor's probably knocked the cables out of the wall socket again, when they vacuumed," he thought. "It's ironic. We have one of the most secure buildings on the planet. A fly can't get inside there, that we don't know about it. And yet, some custodian who doesn't even speak English has the keys to the kingdom, and can go anywhere he pleases. Probably even some places that I can't get into."
He parked in his reserved spot, and rode the elevator up to his floor. Although he couldn't smoke in the Pentagon, he could still have a cigarette in his mouth, as long as it wasn't lit. He smiled and nodded to several co-workers as he strolled down the corridor to his office.
After he opened the door with the key, and turned on the light switch, the cigarette fell out of his mouth, onto the carpet. He was staring at a scene of utter destruction.
The massive oak desk had been reduced to a pile of kindling wood. No piece was larger than an index card. Every picture and painting on the walls had been smashed. The frames were reduced to warped shapes of metal that looked as though they'd been exposed to tremendous heat.
The pictures and photos in the frames, as well as every other paper item, had been shredded into confetti that wasn't any bigger than a postage stamp, and occupied a large pile in the center of the carpet.
The computer and all its hardware and peripherals had been systematically taken apart, and every component was smashed to bits. The metal filing cabinet looked as though some giant trash compactor had been used on it. It was now no bigger than a wastebasket.
Every item of furniture in the office had been given the same brutal treatment. The only thing that had been left intact was the door and the window.
As he walked around the room in shock, surveying the damage, he noticed one item that seemed to have escaped the vandals' wrath.
Lying on the floor was a large manila envelope, with his name written in bold letters with a felt pen on it. Taped to the front of the envelope was a handwritten note. It was obviously a woman's writing, from the flowery, but still very legible script.
"This is to inform you that we have successfully recovered our missing technology from the individuals you indicated to us in the Bahamas recently. However, once we cleared that matter up with them, they informed us where they had originally obtained it, and that led us back to you.
"As you will recall, we made it quite clear that we would not tolerate our technology being used without our consent. We were also extremely angry that you had broken your word, when you and other agencies insisted that all technology had been destroyed on the explorer ship Vega, which crashed on your planet, over thirty years ago. This was obviously not the case. And we feel that if one i*****l copy of our technology exists, then there are certainly others as well.
"What you see before you is both a warning and a demonstration of our abilities. The fact that we have been able to enter your most guarded Government building at will, and inflict this degree of damage, should be an ample indicator of our temperament and our power.
"We feel that you are a reasonable and intelligent man. We are leaving instructions to you, to ensure that whatever remaining copies of our technology still exist on your planet, that you ensure they are all destroyed immediately. We are quite certain that you can manage to locate any other missing copies of our technology through your influence and connections. To be certain that you perform your duties, we offer this motivation for you.
"We will be maintaining surveillance of your planet in the future, as there is a possibility that we will consider contacting Earth, for membership in our Federation. As of yet, we do not consider your race advanced enough and mature enough, but this may change in the future.
"Should we come across any other indications that your race is using our technology again without our consent, we will return.
"In order that you understand the seriousness of the matter, we suggest you look at the documents in the manila envelope."
He opened the manila envelope, and examined the documents inside.
Among other things, it contained: copies of his tax returns for the last ten years. Itemized lists of every phone call and e-mail for the last year. Detailed information on every project, con-spiracy and cover-up he had participated in for the last five years. Page after page of contacts, agents and co-workers he was associated with, including detailed personal data on all of them. It listed all of his addresses, and assumed names and aliases he had used since he had started with the agency.
There was a list of everything he'd purchased with his credit cards, both on-line as well as in stores. They had also produced a detailed list of everywhere he'd been on the Internet, both at home and at work. There was also an extensive list of data on his personal life, detailing everything from which grocery store he shopped at and what he bought, which television programs he watched, which magazines he subscribed to, and which two videos he had rented over the last weekend.
There were also similar packets of detailed information on his wife and other close family members.
"If you do not comply with our instructions, these will be made public to the media, as well as given to numerous foreign governments and other intelligence agencies, whom we are quite certain would be very pleased to see them. We will also take that occasion as an invitation to visit you personally.
"Sincerely yours, The Vectrans."
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