Chapter 8    The Cellini Family and the Proactive Plan

Summer 2016

Matteo heard the sound of an approaching vehicle and turned to watch the large SUV drive along the winding coach road. His wife was returning from her visit. "Hi, Daddy," a high-pitched young girl's voice came from the car window as the SUV stopped at the porch entrance. "Hi, Daddy, we're home," Matteo's fourteen-year-old son, Matthew, said excitedly as he got out of the SUV and walked to his father, who had stooped to hug him. Julia, Matteo's twelve-year-old daughter, ran to give Matteo her hug.

"So, children, did you enjoy the visit with your cousins?" Matteo asked.

Julia nodded and smiled. "Yes, I did. Sandra and I made crafts and brushed out her dog."

"It was an interesting visit, Daddy," Matthew spoke up. "Terrence and I hiked the hill behind the property, and then we sat and played board games on the patio. Aunt Beatrice served a great breakfast and fresh-baked tarts."

Matteo went to the SUV to help his wife, Laura, unload an antique desk lamp.

"Beatrice gave this to me; she knows I just love it," Laura said, smiling broadly. Laura and Beatrice had grown up in a house full of antiques when they lived with their parents in Salzburg. The parents had moved to Cellinara to provide their daughters with the opportunity to grow and develop in the special environment Cellinara offered. They were just small children, but both had shown special intellectual gifts.

Matteo met Laura at the University of Cellinara. He was a law student; she studied Physics and Mathematics. Matteo had told his friends he had met a goddess who had cast a spell over him. They bonded quickly and married soon after. Laura, a slender, raven-haired, naturally beautiful woman who spoke softly, was still a very attractive woman at thirty-seven. She cared deeply for her family.

Laura worked as an adjunct professor of Applied Physics and Engineering Mathematics at the University of Cellinara, while also serving as a consultant to the ODS. She also authored technical papers for journals and offered a tutoring service in graduate-level Engineering Mathematics and Applied Physics.

"It's such a beautiful day," Laura said to Matteo, as he carried the lamp toward the porch.

"How about a nice walk, children?" Laura asked. "You will join us, won't you, Matt? We have half an hour before lunchtime."

"Of course," Matteo replied, I'll just put this lamp inside first."

The walk path was a terra cotta walkway that was made by Matteo's grandfather as a retirement project years ago. It snaked along a route starting at the front porch, went along the edge of the fishpond, and ended at the gazebo, which was surrounded by manicured flower gardens.

Matteo walked this path when he needed time to reflect and gather his thoughts together.

They began their walk toward the pond. Matthew and Julia loved the pond. Sometimes Matthew would find his friend, Tommy the turtle, crawling along the edge. Julia favored watching the fish as they wriggled close to the surface, and she just loved the wildflowers that grew in abundance at the pond.

"Were you at the Hall this morning, Matt?" Laura asked.

"Yes, I walked, and Anzio drove me back. We talked about some unsettling news that has developed. Anzio invited his two associates there, and we discussed that," Matteo replied.

"What does 'unsettling' mean, daddy?" Julia asked, looking puzzled.

"It means worrisome, right, Daddy?" Matthew interjected.

"Yes, son, it does mean that," Matteo replied, thinking how Matthew's vocabulary had grown so quickly lately.

"But worrisome issues are not a new thing in the governing bodies; they pop up regularly," Matteo added with a chuckle. "Someday, son, when you are a mature adult, you may have the opportunity to serve our community. Then you, too, may be taking the responsibility to meet the challenges that the governing authority faces. But first, you must decide exactly what it is that you want your life to be. You will be thinking about that soon enough. We can talk about that when the time comes." Matteo put his hand on Julia's shoulder. "You too, young lady. Soon, you too will be talking to your mother and me about what you want your life to be."

"Okay, Daddy. I'll maybe think about it," she said, looking up at him, blinking her eyes as the bright sunlight shone squarely onto her face, highlighting the long blonde curls that moved in the breeze.

The pond was just a short way up the path. Matthew and Julia hurried to the edge to see what lessons of Nature they would learn today.

Laura turned to Matteo. "Is there anything you need to talk to me about regarding this news, Matt?"

"Anzio's teams have picked up some intel pointing to a group of radicals who plan to come here to disrupt our city. It could be nasty if they actually make it into the city. ODS is working on a plan to prevent and counter, if necessary. I need to meet with Anzio again once he has more updates. Seems as though the CIA is involved. It appears to be part of a global strategy aimed at disrupting and dividing. You know what I mean, Laura." Laura nodded, looking saddened.

"We are at the point where we need to formulate a strategy to meet threats like this," Matteo continued. "I have some ideas that I want to go over with ODS and the Banking Council regarding a comprehensive plan. But for now, we will sit tight and wait to see what unfolds. I will let you know as soon as I find out what is going on.

"What I can say for sure is we must do some preparation planning. ODS will be posting alerts to help us with that part of it. Don't worry, Laura, we have good people working on it. We will be OK. You and I will talk later about what we should do immediately. Do you feel the children should be told?"

"We can sit with them later when the timing is right," Laura replied, squeezing his hand. Matteo was grateful for having Laura as a wife and mother to their children. He always experienced a special and uplifting feeling when she interacted with him. Matteo and Laura walked a bit further down the path to the gazebo and sat on the bench in the shade, allowing the children to study the fish and frogs and the colorful little wildflowers that grew all around the pond.

Matteo turned to Laura. "Laura," he paused, studying her face as if he were looking for some secret message. He leaned closer to her. "Do you ever feel there are spirits living among us?" Laura's head tilted, eyes squinting, as if she were puzzled. She emitted a soft and sweet little chuckle.

"Spirits? Living here among us?" she repeated slowly, and waited for a response, then emitted another little giggle. "Seriously, Matt?"

"I feel Cellinara has been guided over these centuries by some kind of force. I call it a spirit or whatever, maybe an energy field, or whatever you physicists would refer to it as. I feel some kind of force has been, and is now, directing our community in a certain direction, toward a sort of purposeful destination." Laura now sensed Matteo had been serious in asking his question. Her expression changed. She appeared to be more serious and receptive.

"Oh, I see," Laura said softly. "You know, we science types are always open to that kind of perception. I sometimes do wonder if there is a metaphysical reality that exists beyond our capacity to fully understand it, if it does in fact exist. You know, we are trapped inside a perception field that is limited by our five senses. That is how we were created as survival machines. We were designed to survive in a hostile environment; we were NOT designed to understand what lies beyond our comprehension.

"So, when you ask about a 'force,' well, yes, of course it is possible. Many kinds of forces act upon us that we are unaware of. Do I think there may be a force directing our community toward a purposeful destination?" Laura paused to ponder that part of his comment. "I think one could make a persuasive argument that there is such a force, or spirit, or whatever label you prefer to tag onto the idea."

Laura continued, "I agree there is a feeling of specialness that fills the air here. It does sometimes seem that our community has been 'blessed', if I may use that term. But to think that we are being purposely directed toward a specific destination may be a bit speculative, but" Laura paused again, squinting in thought, "I suppose that notion does have a kind of reasonableness to it, doesn't it?"

Laura spoke thoughtfully, as if she were not really sure if she had replied satisfactorily to his question. She studied him as he digested her words. "Do you think Cellinara represents a kind of spiritually inspired truth, or some such thing, Matt? Is that what you are implying?"

"I am only trying to clarify what I am feeling. I feel we here at Cellinara have been for centuries riding an incredibly persistent wave of progression from the ideals that sparked our beginnings, right through the worst of times, without losing sight of what we stand for. It is very uncanny.

"The more I think about it, the clearer it becomes in my mind. There is a natural force working to guide us, through our administrative policies, through the decisions we make, through the cultural cohesiveness we insist on maintaining, and through the consistently successful investment programs made by the Banking Council. You know, Laura, Carl Jung's notion of synchronicity comes to mind; many unrelated events coming together to form an intertwined, seemingly meaningful assemblage." Matteo paused, wondering if he was making any sense to his wife.

"I understand," Laura mused. "Didn't Jung explain this seeming synchronicity as being a sign of an underlying cosmic intentional consciousness? A cosmic mind that intentionally controls the course of events in the universe? I do remember studying this in Psychology and Philosophy." Laura reflected for a few seconds.

"You know, Matt, some very highly respected physicists have held that there is a metaphysical reality which does exist beyond our ability to understand. Even mathematicians sometimes fall back on the need to posit a metaphysical reality to help them understand the nature of numbers and how mathematical relationships can meaningfully apply to the actual world.

"I do feel you are sincere in the way you are experiencing this perception. I cannot find fault with that way of thinking. The mind and the Natural world are very mysterious in many ways. We are only beginning to understand the world we find ourselves in. Sometimes our understanding is extremely limited, and we will never actually know the answers. It is all very humbling." Laura took Matteo's hand. He felt her energy flow through his body.

"Mommy, what does 'humbling' mean?" a young voice asked. Julia had been standing there listening, while holding a small bouquet of colorful little wildflowers.

"Oh well, we can talk about it over lunch, Julia. It is about that time. Why don't you tell your brother to come along now for lunch with Daddy and me?"

At lunch, Julia asked once again about the word 'humbling.' Her mother loved her curiosity, so she carefully explained while Matteo went to the kitchen to talk on the phone to Anzio, who had called just as they sat down for sandwiches.

"Matteo, I returned to the office after I dropped you off. Is your phone on the safe channel?" Anzio asked.

"Yes, Anzio, continue."

"We have found that Professor Robert Collins, the one who proposed the initiative on cultural homogeneity, has been on a target list of 'Our Vision.' They have also targeted a few of the members of the Advisory Panel and some Judges. We are sure about this. We will be notifying those targets so they can take precautionary measures; we have a protocol for them to follow. I am proceeding with a proactive plan that the teams here have worked out. I will fill you in later. Take no action now. Wait to hear from me. Must go. Goodbye."

Anzio broke the connection. Matteo breathed deeply and walked back to his seat at the table. "Anzio. He had only a minute to talk. He will get back to me," Matteo told Laura, who remained silent and calm as she and Matteo ate lunch and chatted with the children. Matthew knew that when his father or mother had a phone conversation with someone, he was not to enquire about the subject. His father taught him that years ago.

Julia was also aware that adult conversations were not to be joined without the permission of the adults. Laura knew it was rare that Anzio would be working at the ODS on a Saturday. She also knew that no one ever called Matteo outside of working hours unless it was extremely urgent.

"So, Julia, tell me what 'humbling' means?" Matteo asked, smiling.

"Humbling is when a person learns something that makes her feel not so important," Julia answered, looking at her mother to see if she got it right.

"That is a good answer, Julia. We all feel humbled at some time in our lives. It serves as a learning experience, darling," Laura replied warmly. "Life is just one big, never-ending learning experience."

Matteo knew his wife's face and her speaking tone. The phone call had made her uneasy.

Matthew quietly munched on his sandwich, his eyes shyly looking at his mother, then his father. He sensed their uneasiness. After sandwiches, Laura served fruit shortcake, juices, and coffee. Laura broke the tension, feeling it her duty to explain. "Children, daddy and I feel you should know something," Laura started as Matthew and Julia dug into their fruit shortcake. Matthew looked up from his dessert, eyes wide open.

"You both know Anzio from the Office of Defense and Security. He has been here before to talk to your father. Anzio seems to think that a group of political activists may come here to Cellinara to cause some trouble for the residents here. Your father and I think you should be extra careful at school, especially when talking to people you don't know.

"It is a good practice, anyway, whether in school or out of school, to be careful who you talk to and what you say to people." Julia and Matthew listened closely. "And you can always contact Security if you need help. You both know how to do that. Daddy and Anzio think everything is going to be fine, but we just wanted to tell you to be extra careful, OK?"

Matthew replied, "I'll be careful, mother."

"Me too," Julia said. The children quietly finished their desserts.

The Proactive Plan

Matthew and Julia excused themselves from the table and went outside to the pond again. Matthew brought with him some small pieces of a sandwich to feed to Tommy. Matteo and Laura decided to sit for a while on the swinging bench on the front porch. Matteo took Laura's hand into his. "The call from Anzio. He is at the ODS." Matteo began. "He says he has put into action a proactive plan the team has been working on. Professor Robert Collins and some members of the Advisory Panel and some Judges have been targeted by the radicals."

Laura's eyes shut for an instant as the words registered. She sighed. "I knew it was something urgent," she replied.

Matteo continued, "The targets have been notified and are on precautionary protocol. He will keep me updated. I feel we should not say anything about this until we get more information."

That evening, at the ODS, Anzio had been monitoring a live feed of his team in the process of pursuing three men and two women who had been surveilled and tracked for many weeks. The team had waited until all five were together. The five were identified from leads provided by two protest group members who had discovered the plan to insert radical agitators into the protest group after seeing an unattended email message on a screen in a meeting room of the protest planners.

The two insiders then decided to quit the protest group. Then they contacted authorities because they did not want to see any violence or have any outside, uninvited radical students hijacking their group. They initially contacted the local police whose communication feeds were monitored by ODSID. Intel from other sources who had been monitoring their moves then confirmed the plan to insert the radicals. After further scanning of emails and text messages and using other tracking methods, the names and locations of the five instigators responsible for planning the violent disturbance had been obtained.

Then it was just a matter of waiting until the five were together. The team had a credible lead that they would be holding a meeting in a particular building that evening. The tracking team at ODS watched the five leave that building late that same night. The five entered a van and drove out of the parking lot.

A short while later, the van was apprehended by the ODS team a few miles outside of town, and then the five were transported by bus to a holding facility in the basement of the ODSERD building. Inside the building, the bus door opened, and two armed guards stood by. The masked men turned to the captives. One spoke loudly and clearly to the five. "I am going to release your bonds now. If any of you makes a stupid move, you will be shot. Is that clear?"

He focused on their faces to see if they understood. "Is that clear?" he repeated, loudly. Then, one after the other, the five nodded or replied with a 'yes.' The bonds were untied, and the captives filed out of the bus. One armed guard motioned toward another guard who was also armed with a pistol.

That guard told them to raise their hands and stay perfectly still. One by one, he had them remove all contents from their pockets and clothing. Then he frisked each one to search for any concealed items. He then slowly waved an electronic gadget over every inch of the body of each captive to detect any electronic implanted devices. The scan was negative; no implanted or hidden devices were detected. The pocket contents, which included cell phones, papers, and other items, were placed in a separate plastic bag to be associated with the captive who had possessed them.

The captives were then led into a room with a long table and five chairs along one side. Surveillance cameras were mounted near the ceiling at opposite corners of the room. "Sit down and wait," the guard told them, pointing the automatic weapon at them until they sat. Another man entered the room, closed and locked the door. The two guards stood in adjacent corners at each side of the third man to avoid any possible crossfire if guns had to be used.

The last man who entered removed his bomber jacket. His military fatigues and tan tee shirt highlighted the muscular build beneath the fabric. A leather-cased .45 semi-auto was strapped to his right hip. He began to speak after hanging his jacket on the door hook.

"You were brought here for interrogation. We know you are trained Marxists. We know your names and where you come from. We know who your family members are, their names, and where they are located. We know you are being paid to follow orders from the CIA, which seeks to disrupt our political and social systems for the purpose of degrading and eventually dismantling those same systems here in Europe and elsewhere globally."

The man paused, searching the faces of the five captives sitting facing him. He approached the table slowly. The rifle barrels trained on the captives. The man's face was rugged and leather-like. His eyes burned with intense anger. He looked at each face individually, scanning slowly from one to the next, as if he hated what he beheld. The stunned captives just sat silently, not moving a muscle, as if they were animals looking into headlights.

"You have been under intense surveillance for several months," he continued, bending low to face them squarely. "We followed your every move. We know places you have been and the people you have talked to. We know about your sources of funding and your interactions with chapters of 'Our Vision.' We know you associate with and conspire with radical students at several universities.

"We know you are instigating some of those radical students to perform disruptive and violent acts against certain communities and certain individuals. We know you have planned to equip some of those radical students with small arms and incendiary devices and other destructive devices to be used against the social and political systems of communities which you despise."

The man again stared into the eyes of each captive one by one. "You are in this place because it is highly secure. It is not a place with Judges and trials and juries of your peers. It is a place that you do not want to be. You have no rights here. You are not going to be assigned a lawyer. Nor are you allowed to talk to one. You will not be allowed to make phone calls or use any form of communication with the outside. You are in a facility that will be your home for as long as I want you to stay here." The man said firmly, slowly, and clearly. "You are not allowed to ask anyone questions. But if you are asked a question by me or someone that I authorize to speak to you, you will answer any question asked of you. You will answer the question truthfully to the best of your knowledge.

"You will not have access to any electronic devices. You may not have visitors of any kind for the duration of your stay. Your stay may be short, or it may be forever. That is up to you to decide. No one, and I do mean NO ONE, but the people in this facility knows you are here. You will never know where you are right now, even after you leave, if that day ever comes.

"I am your jailer, your appeal board, and your key to the outside. You do not like me, but you will learn to respect me, and you will learn it is to your benefit to cooperate. You will be assigned separate rooms, and you may not converse with each other from this time forward. You will be visited periodically by an assistant of mine to discuss things."

The man stood upright. "Take our guests to their rooms and go over the house rules and the protocol with them, sergeants, and take their pocket items to the lab," he said, addressing the armed security men.

"Oh, one more thing," he added, addressing the captives once again. "Just because we are going to treat you humanely for your stay here does not mean we like any of you. In fact, there is not one person at this facility who cares whether you live or die. If any one of you attempts to do anything stupid, you should know in advance that every guard here has orders to shoot to kill. We at this facility are answerable to no one." The man in the fatigues smiled, as if delighted, then left the room. He spoke to the two guards stationed outside the door. "Follow them. Give back up if needed," he said. The men listened and looked straight ahead, saluting.