"FUCK YOUR FACE"
₮เฝเฝ เฝเฝขเบฎเฝขเฝฆG
ACT TWO:
The Proclamation
It had been a loaded deck, even before meeting Laura, but when he had met her, the decks all around him got stacked even higher than ever. She had been alone for twenty years, save her family, and that, along with her talents and beauty had made her the mark of many who would love to court her in the surrounding community. When she had broke her celibacy with her relationship with Evan, those with vested interest through ties saw it as a sign that she would take another, as she couldn’t possibly choose this homeless mutt.
Evan had been forced to sleep in her family van, parked outside of her family home at first, and the dogs of the locale there had came up to the fence across from it a dozen strong, howling and yipping and barking like wolves of a pack in warning. When she came out to him in the night, they stopped.
The resources of the one who took note the most were severely high tech, and he trailed him constantly at first, hacking everywhere he went. This level of surveillance was so stout and strong, it was obvious when the well ran dry for Evan’s money, this was the underlying cause.
Now, eight and a half years later, his Social Security had been erased, and personally attended to all jobs to which he applied were sabotaged. He would be hired, and then before the first day, told not to come in, ever, and it had now happened a dozen and more times. He had no money, and this left him to round the clock care for his daughter and Laura, and her family household needs wherever he could. This had brought them closer than ever, so close that he considered Laura’s talk of when he died, if before her, that she would never take another. Judging by hers and their history, there was no doubt.
The community which Laura lived in was an “unincorporated” community in one of the largest progressive conservative counties in the country. This meant no police force, little in the way of restrictive surveillance as such, and rather a sort of self - policing to protect a very wild and free lifestyle shared by the occupants. Evan was forcibly ostracized by past, present, and controlled future by the private and somewhat secret dealings of these neighbors and their lucrative holdings.
The level of hacking intruding into his life was done by very sophisticated hands, obviously doing so not wasting their time on just the things done to him. They had their hands in companies online and he could tell by their tracks they got paid in private counter - surveillance, bug bounty, personal hacks branching from their current works, and this also led to terrorist network purchase transaction failure monies funneling, and now more recently live event ticket transaction and user information theft and rediverting.
In other words, they hacked to help companies while hurting individuals on the side, and took on data farming and transaction and network events information gathering and coding, then selling their ready made “bombs” to terrorists overseas who used and implemented them, taking on the brunt of the risk, and ultimately formally blamed for the attacks. This also meant these hacks could target who was attacked, and get a rush from choosing, ironically, a liberal set of victims as they saw fit.
“It’s Your Call”
The fact was that due to Laura being such an incredible person, with such open minded elusion of circumstance while being almost submerged in it, made her almost singled out for targeting of such constant pursuant controlling influence made flaunt by members of the community. This was why she had stayed completely single, though in her fair, innocent and humble realistic dealing way, she never really made identifying those forces that caused this molding reclusiveness to blame for those decades.
Instead she put all of her efforts into the loves of her life, and was quite satisfied in the simple pleasures that come of being faithful and true to an honest affinity for and belief in the universe bringing fate to you, and that pursuing it was fearfully futile, and that too. Or at least that is the words that Evan put to it.
Probably the most memorable things that he remembered of those early struggles, were how the C.I.A. working with the N.S.A. as tipped off locally had put a loving touch on things for them so often. His wild ways were discouraged, and monitored, judiciously threatened, and as such he was empowered rather than paranoid or fearful. These were the powers that would stand up and protect him ,and did, if he just did the right thing.
The problem remained that collateral damage existed in the path of the “Rat”, so he took his measures very seriously, and simply worked within his now hopelessly entangled restraints, and those who were counteracting his enemies around him.
An example would be when a chemical supplied meth lab took root in the apartment over him, supplied by hoods and thugs, soldiers and connects that took violent measures via easily spread influence over them, he was forced to do something in hand with the F.B.I.
The Federal Agents had set up residence half a dozen strong in an apartment on the floor below, judging by the proximity of their wifi signature openly and threateningly shown, he could even pinpoint a unit number. There were two, one with field agents and hacking both network, cloud, desktop, mobile texts and calls, and field monitored data dumps, and one with international covert agents and double agents securing the international shipping backers found in connections to the connections. The men behind the men with the main supplies, so have you, also in the mix.
Due to the nature of the beast, the meth lab had also monitoring on the building’s, and grid powered oversight control on the electricity to the building. There are other reasons for this, but more about that later.
Because of the level of explosive gas coming from the neighboring apartment, the simple layout of the identical units, and the things Evan observed about his gun toting patrolling neighbors themselves, he knew a few simple things.
The lab would be set up in the kitchen, where there was one outlet. Due to surge fears, all of their outlets were turned off as he knew, from opening the already broken into building circuit breaker room, and seeing what they had meddled with. He knew they also would have thrown their breakers by the personal unit box in the foyer. But he could tell, being directly below their open window and bathroom vents subventing the kitchen, and from the noise he could barely detect, they had one outlet on the kitchen labs counter with a fan blowing the noxious fumes.
All of this would mean a massive buildup of stored electricity they most likely had not alleviated in the resistors, and Evan was closest to the source.
He knew his computer desktop was monitored by signals previously given. He opened his laptop, and wrote out his message:
“All agents. Fire watch. You’ve got the switch. I’m gonna kill my breakers in the round, push a surge to the desk window northwest corner. Blow it. “Fuck Your Face”!!!”
He then powered everything in the apartment that he owned electronically up to the max, including on the desk by the window in the lined up outlet in all of the units schematics right next to the kitchen outlet, blaring Phish covering “The Rolling Stones” : “FUCK YOUR FACE”...
He got a brief temporary remote desktop cursor reply which then erased, and he threw the fuses one by one.
When he hit the “Fuck Your Face” switch, the Federal Agent in their corner let the trip go on the level in his grid control, and the entire apartment above exploded in flames. Evan felt a huge concussion "thud" as the walls of the entire building shook in the explosion.
Everyone but Evan evacuated as firefighters put the unit out, and the crowd cheered as the man with the chemical burns was taken away. It was this kind of shit, he had no choice, but to live for.
*correction: the lab was on the floor below Evan, gas rises, and electricity grounds out. Oh, and he threw all the fuses but one at once, the parallel one to the kitchen counter below. Boom!
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