I Know Your Truth

Chapter 14 - That Meeting

-Twenty years ago-

-DREW'S POV-

"Mr. Drew, you know that this can cause you to have life in prison, yes?" The man asks as he steps out of the vehicle. I give a small sigh, lowering my hat down and following the man down the elongated hallway and to his pristine office. His entire home was beautiful and almost like a mansion. The office was large, bringing a chandelier to gorgeously enlighten the room. Each wall was brought with twenty foot high dark wood bookshelves. The farther back of the room was large windows looking over the night sky and rushing river. And in the middle of the space was the fine wooden office desk. The man sits down in his office chair, turning on his computer and offering me the seat in front of me. I bring myself to sit in the closest chair of the two, relaxing in its comfort.

"I need you to do this." I answer, bringing my handkerchief out of my pocket and wiping my sweat off my forehead. He begins to type on the computer, writing in his small pocket notebook every few seconds.

"I want one thousand for it." He looks at me with a smile, "I mean, I do owe you for what you did for me." My heart seems to leap for joy; erasing my identity was a tedious process which usually would bring my bank account down two thousand five hundred.

"When can you have it done?" I inquire, grabbing my bag and pulling out stuff-loads of money and sliding it across the desk. He drags the drawer open to his left, pulling the black gloves he had inside and grabs the money, flipping through each bill.

"Few hours." He answers, bringing the money and gloves into his drawer before continuing his work on the computer, "Why do you want to get rid of your identity, sir?"

I gulp, shifting in my seat, "My wife is going to die from cancer in a few years and we just had our first born. I don't want to be there to see my wife die; I don't think I could handle it. I left a few days ago after stealing- well, taking some things from my job for my daughter." My throat starts to close up as tears well in my eyes.

"What did you take?" He asks, continuing his strenuous typing on the computer and glancing at me every few seconds.

"Well," I give a moment of thought, "Specimens, machinery, and one of their main products they've been working on. If they find out what I did, I'll be dead. It's best if I just hide away now." I cough slightly, trying to wipe away any sort of negative emotions. He stops typing, taking a look at me.

"What main product are you talking about?" He asks, folding his hands in front of him on the desk. I lean back in my chair, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

"It's this thing called the dishonti disc." I take a long breath, "Basically, it tracks brain waves- like tracks what the person is thinking and their emotions, helps to how they think, and surpasses the power to how they think."

"Are you saying that your corporation made a device that would make someone a genius?" The man turns over to his storage cabinet behind him, shoving his hands in the drawers.

"Well, it's not confirmed. We haven't tested on any.. alive humans." I look away, the memories of our testing flooding my mind. Yes, we had tested our device on humans, but they were very much not alive, "We also have tested it on animals. Like, rats, dogs, cats, etc."

The man turns around, sliding a file across the table, "This is all the information I have of what your corporation has been doing over the years. What I've learned is that.. they have some connection with the illumati and government. I had a journalist and investigator come out to research during the time Bill Clinton had just gotten elected for president."

"What did you find out?" I inquire, grabbing the file and scanning my eyes over the words 'FILES 1993-1996'.

"Bill Clinton was involved in this island- still is to my belief, and would sex traffic young women there. These women would then be murdered and taken to the government where they would be taken to different military bases and frozen. Then, your corporation would contact them for the bodies and when given them.. they would put their latest devices into the bodies. Some of the devices would be like this dishonti disc you speak of, or to just make them into these zombie women. We stopped in 1996 after.." He grabs a small recorder from his drawer, setting it on the table, and turning it on.