The Mandela Effect

Ch. 35

"Wait," T says, "What?"

"We have to stop them," Jon repeats.

"We?" T asks, "You and I?"

"Well," Jon begins, "us and whoever else you know who is involved."

"What do you mean?" T asks.

"You couldn't have gathered all of this alone," Jon insists, "who helped you. Let's recruit them. They can be a part of this too."

"I don't think you understand," T says, "this isn't about stopping them. We are just trying to expose them. They are too big and too powerful for us to try to take on. Even if we had a thousand people. They have all of the resources."

"So," Jon asks in disbelief, "what is this all for?"

"It's information gathering," T explains, "It's reconnaissance. Once we have enough, then we go to the media!"

"The media that they control?" Jon asks.

"Ok," T says shifting gears, "well the internet then."

"Like what?" Jon asks, "the rest of the internet skeptics and crazies?"

"There are legitimate sources there," T argues.

"Ok," Jon smirks, "so you dump on Wikileaks. Then what?"

"Then we let them take it," T says, "the world take it."

"So you spend years researching something," Jon outlines, "you lose everything: friends, family, relationships. You risk it all – including your life. And then just hand it over to someone else? And move on to the next conspiracy?"

T warily considers the statement.

"That's bullshit T," Jon argues, "and you know it."

T shakes his head. Jon continues to berate him.

"If we're talking about this, so are other people. I found thousands of people out there on the internet. And yes, maybe some of them are crazy. And definitely, most of them think like you – they are all talk and no action. But if even a few of them are ready to do something, that can be enough to get real change."

"I can't Jon," T says finally, "I can't."

Jon stands and throws the remainder of his water bottle across the room.

"They took everything from me – everything. Anything that meant anything in my life is gone. And for what? So they could make an extra million dollars? So, they could consolidate power? No – no, they don't get to get away with that. Someone needs to be held accountable. Someone needs to atone for what they did to me."

"Jon," T says demurely, "I know you're upset..."

Jon interrupts, "I'm not just fucking upset. I'm livid. They can't do this to people. It's not right."

Jon sits back down.

"You don't have to help me," Jon says, "I get it. You can keep doing whatever it is you're doing. You don't have to be involved at all."

Jon rubs his hands over his head and slaps his knees before standing again. He walks over to the wall with the pictures and string and looks around.

"When is the next Bildaberg meeting?" Jon asks.

"It's usually late in the year," T says, "October or November? But the pre-meetings begin in the summer."

"Great," Jon smiles, "we have plenty of time."

Jon turns towards T, "if you're going to help me."

T sighs, "I'll help you as much as I can."

Jon's smile gets wider before fading with T's follow-up.

"But I can't risk my own safety," T says, "when they start getting close, I'm bugging out."

Jon turns back to the wall, "I'll take it. Tell me about the pre-meetings."

Ninety minutes later, Jon steps out of the passenger seat of T's car. He leans back into the dark car, and shakes T's hand.

"I'm keeping the second phone," Jon says, "it's clean right?"

"Yea," T answers, "just keep the SIM card out when your other phone is around, or when you're at home."

"What about work?" Jon asks.

"Work is probably fine," T smirks.

"I'll just leave it there," Jon says, and predicting T's next statement he says, "hidden, of course, with the SIM card out. I'll check it daily for messages. Deal?"

"Deal," T responds, nodding his head.

Jon reaches out and shakes his hand again.

"Stay safe, Jon," T says.

"You too buddy," Jon answers, before pulling his torso out of the car and shutting the door.

The car drives off and Jon walks towards the pile of garbage bags. En route, he turns the phone over, pops out the battery, and removes the SIM card.

"Paranoid freak," Jon chuckles.

He pockets the three pieces of the phone before taking out the key he retrieved earlier and throwing the top garbage bag out of the way to get to the safe.