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COUP

THERE WAS A PLAN ONCE CONCOTED

TO CHANGE A NATION?S DESTINY.

IT WAS THE KIND OF ACTION INTELLIGENCE

SECTORS WOULD OFTEN TAKE ABROAD.

THE PLAN WAS NEVER EXECUTED.

THERE ARE STILL SOME WHO BELIEVE

THE PLAN REMAINS TIMELY.

As a child he would see coppers taking bribes from dirty shop owners in
his city, located at the north. He didn?t understand why things were the
way they were, he just accepted. Still, part of him, wondered.

The internet copy which had circulated years ago had seemingly been lost,
yet the members of the internet clique known only as The Trackers had
apparently located one using an internet archive service. To them, it was
well worth it; based in the UK, part of their blood pounded to the
rhythms of anarcho-capitalism.

Word on the street, or web for that matter, was that they had gone
straight to work. However, it soon dawned upon them that the operation
was ultimately a one man show, as the file explicitly indicated. Only one
of them could be chosen to carry out the activities involved, while the
determined others would provide back up.

The coveted file stated ?spirits of salt? a.k.a. hydrochloric acid was
the weapon of choice. The corrosive, poisonous liquid was mainly used for
soldering fluxes, to remove rust from metal. The message was clear; the
author of the file, and intellectual author of what would soon unfold,
had determined he wanted for authorities to identify this as an attack,
as he had avoided less easily detectable poisonous substances for his
plan.

One member of the group, ?legman?, working in the metallurgic industry,
would provide litres of the fluid, more than plenty to go around, to the
seemingly chosen point-man, ?lezard?, whose profile, like that of a
common terrorist, showcased the youth to make him seem non-threatening
and he possessed, it seemed, the least amount of traceable connections.

Another member, ?devil-inside? working in the optical industry, would
provide two sets of facial disguises through fake beards, wigs, expensive
contact lenses and eyeglasses. The team had, in fact, never convened;
everything would be sent through the mail to an anonymous mailbox to be
picked up by lezard.

The contents of the file, known simply as ?Coup?, reason for which it was
so difficult to locate, exemplified why the groups interests exceeded
mere anarcho-capitalism. In fact, their area of inquiry was mediatic
influence. The entire group was well versed in the infamous Bernays and
most reputable books on propaganda. They disliked the idea of a few key
figures commanding the nation?s attention and moulding its mores.
Thankfully, ?jet-setter?, the final member of the group, actually had
full access to such individuals and their current whereabouts.

Part one of the plan was then put into gear. Lezard began to receive
photos and locations on his mailbox. They detailed, with Swiss precision,
the activities and key locations of a group of five celebrities. This
tight-lipped group of individuals would make the author of Jolly Roger's
many Cookbooks proud.

Costume one, of a delivery boy, was then put to use. Cameras, containing
no film whatsoever, would follow the boy as he gained nearness to the
celebs and became comfortable in their surroundings. For a young boy of
barely legal age, he seemed more jaded than star-struck and that was the
point. Behind the cameras, the group watched silently.

The nation?s number one talk show host, the far right pundit, the far
left comedian, the radio personality, the nihilistic hipster; all were
being closely clocked. Lezard thought to himself that administering the
contents of the syringes would be too much to bear on his own and
demanded a manifesto stating the group was responsible in its entirety.
To his surprise, it had already been written and placed in the mailbox
for his perusal.

It was time for costume number two. He dressed as a French tourist asking
for directions; the rationale was that, given that the celebs which the
group held responsible for the decay of a nation were nationals, they
would feel comfortable among foreigners, perhaps even relieved.

He would strike in places where camera surveillance was minimal, or were
known blind spots could be exploited. Preferably, where crowds would
gather at certain times to ask for autographs. All he had to do was stand
behind. Just stand behind and prick. No shots fired, no guns visible, no
false moves. But one.

The day finally came. One of the group?s members, who never identified
himself, drove Lezard to each location. He simply identified himself as
?one of us?. The hits had to be carried out in a single day as,
obviously, security would tighten and free roaming would not be easily
permitted soon thereafter.

It was the point of no return. Coffee shop, 09:30 AM, zap. Newsstand,
11:00 AM, zap. Restaurant, 01:30 PM, zap. Bus stop, 3:00 PM, zap.
Building entrance, 6:00 PM, zap.

The man driving the car turned around for a moment and contemplated the
young boy as he entered, still shaking. He told him it took great
sacrifice to attain something momentous. He explained to him that, when
he was his age, he saw a corrupt, rotten world which he didn?t
understand, but something grew in him with the promise that one day he
would change it.