Meanwhile Back on Earth...

Jordan Cross sat in the back of his limo, watching the Manhattan skyline go by as he made his way to his Central Park penthouse.

'Tomorrow I shall rule supreme. Then the world shall tremble.' Jordan thought.

Benjamin sat in back with Jordan, his PDA clearly visible, ready to take notes or orders from his master.

"Benjamin, tonight we're going to Washington and tomorrow Project Leviathan comes to fruition." Jordan said.

"Yes sir. Our people are all in position, though it took a little longer getting all of the necessary personnel into positions in other countries. I was a little surprised that you included Canada, Central America and South America." Benjamin said with as must respect as possible in his tone.

"Yes, I know. But it needs to be done. The people will be better off for it and Americas will be stronger for it." Cross nodded sagely. "Once they see the truth sir, they'll fall to their knees and worship you till the end of time." Benjamin said, with no hint of doubt in his voice.

"Did you wire the money yet?" Cross asked with a far away look in his eyes.

"Yes, it was done this morning. Thirty million to an account in Bogota, twenty million to the Nevis account and fifteen went to Munich. We received conformation about twenty minutes before we left." Benjamin said, consulting his PDA for the answers.

"Good, our Columbian friends will be pleased and will keep their side of the bargain. Once it's over and done with we can always retrieve the money at a later date. It's one thing to be in business with the Columbians, it's another thing to trust them at all." Cross stated. "A wise move sir. Will you include the Mexican drug cartels in the 'clean-up'?" Benjamin approached the subject with a certain amount of caution.

Cross looked sharply at his personal secretary, glad that he brought up the very thing he was thinking about. Those drug cartels could be treacherous to deal with any day of the week and it was certainly a bad idea to turn your back on them even for an instance, unless you really wanted a meat cleaver jammed in it.

"Yeah, I'll want to make a clean sweep of them. No need leaving loose ends around, they only become a hindrance later on." Cross said, wiping a bit of lint off his Chino pants.

A beeping sound emanated from the PDA, alerting that a message was in the inbox. Benjamin open the simple text message, less then four lines long and was straight to the point, which took less than ten seconds to decode what the message really meant.

"Sir, it appears that our 'party favors' have arrived on schedule and are being set up even as we speak. All you need to do is give the signal and the party will begin." Benjamin stated, with just the hint of pleasure in his voice.

"Good. Call Marcus and have him begin what we discussed. He'll know what you're talking about." Cross said with the first hint of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

___________________________

Marcus LaMarx sat in his small, cramped apartment, furiously typing away at the keyboard of his computer. The sound of Disturbed rattled walls of his apartment, letting the potent music fuel his soul, his creativity, and push him to his limits. His phone rang, which was a rare occurrence, but didn't hear it. If it didn't light up like a damn fireworks display when it rang he wouldn't have known it rang. He muted his music, another rare occurrence in his building, and picked it up." Yeah?" He wasn't much for small talk.

"Mr. Cross says for you to begin." The voice on the other line said then it went dead.

He stared at the phone, not knowing what the hell that was about until it clicked. Jordan Cross hired him to do an almost impossible job. But for someone with Marcus's talents it was child's play. Cross paid for the best hardware for Marcus to use his 'talents' to do something that has never been done before. He slid the junk off his computer station and hooked up the special lab top. This thing of beauty cost more than a new Lexus. It had a killer Ethernet connection and most of the components going to be available on the open market for the next two years. He had prepared for this moment for over two years and was anxious to complete it. Hell, when all was said and done he'd be the 'number one hacker' on the entire planet. After the hard drive warmed up he started with number one on his to-do list. ___________________________

Scholars speculate that the Internet could never collapse, considering how it was structured; it was designed to prevent itself from collapsing. Even if a terrorist attack occurred, striking computer relay points, it would never work. What if someone was smart enough and had the needed talent, not to destroy the Internet, but control the flow of information. Some would say that it would be impossible to, say, stop all forms of communication coming in and going out of the continental United States. Others would say that no on this Earth could establish a communications blackout through three separate continental masses. Well, they were proven wrong. At three thirty a.m. EST the Western Hemisphere went 'dark', as it were, for the first time in a hundred years. This was just the first indication that something was wrong.

___________________________

Inside the Oval Office Washington D.C. Time: 6:32 a.m. EST

The President sat in his comfortable leather chair, a scowl creeping across his face after having been rudely awaken by his nervous looking aide. He was told that there was a national emergency and his presence was needed immediately.

"Alright boys, what the hell happened that would require my presence in my office at six thirty in the morning?" He sounded grumpy as he rubbed the graying stubble on his jawbone.

"Sir, the entire country is in a communications blackout. Something we've never seen the likes of before. Nothing we send seems to make it, not telephone, no fax, no Internet. Hell, we can't even get a signal to the satellites in orbit. We've tried Britain, France, Germany, even Spain, but nothing seems to reach its destination. It's like someone just blocked 'us' and left everyone else alone." Said an Air Force General.

The door to the Oval office burst open as a secretary came rushing in, her face flushed red from running.

"Mr. President, we just received a call from the Canadian Prime Minister's office. Apparently he wants to speak to you." The woman said between gasps for air.

Before he could respond another aide came rushing through the same door, claiming that the Mexican President was also on line two and wanted a word. After that three similar running aides came into the office claiming the other governments south of the boarder were calling, wanting a word or two with the President.

"Wait just a damn minute! I thought you said that there wasn't any telephone service, General? What do you make of that?" the president practically shouted pointing to his office phone as several lines blinked angrily.

"Um...it would appear that they are also in the same predicament as us. Also sir, I said never said we didn't have phone service, it's just that every time we try to reach anyone from across the pond nothing would happen. We didn't try locally though." The general squeaked out.

"Next time, tell me. I hate it when I look like a fucking moron." The president said heatedly.

A man in a dark suit, one that just scream government agent, walked into the room and informed everyone present that television broadcasts were still being receive throughout the region but nothing from the international networks was able to get through. Just as the president was about to curse his private phone rang, something that only happened when 'he' called. The President of the United States, leader of the free world, elected leader of a nation, suddenly looked like he was going to pass out or worse, run from the room screaming for his 'momma' again. He reached for the phone with a shaky hand then picked it up. "h...Hee...Hello?" He barley whispered.

He stood stock still, his ear rooted to the receiver, face turning white as beads of sweat began popping out all over his body. He reached out unoccupied hand to steady himself. His replies were short, mostly 'yes, sir', 'no, sir' or 'I'm sorry sir'. As the line went dead he put the phone back in its cradle. He looked up at everyone in the room and told them to get out after he told his secretary to schedule an emergency meeting of the Congress. From the shocked looks their faces, they couldn't believe they had jus heard him give that order. In fact, they couldn't remember the last time any president called for an emergency meeting with congress.

___________________________

Benjamin ended his call with the President while he began getting ready for today's events. He left his room and hurried to the elevator. Once the car arrived he slipped the keycard into the slot to go directly to the penthouse. When he got off he noticed the usual servants scurrying about. The penthouse suite was impressive, even though it was a Comfort Inn. As he entered the suite itself he quickly found his master being 'serviced' by one of the prettier serving girls. Over the years he had grown accustomed to such displays so he no longer thought anything of it. "Sir, the call's been made. The preparations are being made as even as we speak." He said.

"Good, as soon as I'm done here order some breakfast from room service. It's going to be a bust day." Cross said and smacked the tight, naked ass that was pressed against him. The girl squealed in delight and continued on at a faster pace.

___________________________

FBI Agent Philips walked down a nondescript hallway, passing numerous numbered doors with electronic locks. He finally came to the correct door and slipped his keycard into the slot. When it buzzed, he turned the handle and entered the small office. His partner was at his desk, sipping coffee from a white Styrofoam cup while he scribbled something down on a large yellow legal pad. Philips and his partner, Agent Chambers, were to desperate, to say the least. They have been trying to build a case against Jordan Cross for the last four years but every time they thought they had some evidence that would stick it would evaporate before they could even tag-and-bag-it. It was like watching one the old time great magicians perform a mind-boggling trick, one minute your eyes were glued on the big box that had swords run through it, the next second the 'assistant' sneaks out the trapdoor while everyone else is distracted. Cross is great at using misdirection, one minute they had a witness in custody, the next instant their head would disappear. That's why Philips called in an 'old friend', to help out with the case. A hacker who went way back with him to high school.

Josh Sanders knocked on the door to the office and Phillips opened it. They shook hands and went through the usual pleasantries.

"Alright Rich, you wouldn't have called me unless you up shit creek without a paddle. So what's up?" Josh asked.

"Ok, to the point then. Josh, what I'm about to tell you can't leave this office. If it did the media would go into a feeding frenzy. Can you keep your mouth shut?" Richard Philips asked.

"Sure man, no problem, anything for a friend. So spill it already, I'm dying to know what this is about." Josh said eagerly.

"Brian and I have been trying to build a case against Jordan Cross. Do you know him?" Philips asked, receiving a nod. So he went on. "We have reason to believe that he has something big going on. With the sudden communications blackout, it just seem too coincidental, if you catch my drift."

"Yeah that sounds a little too neat for my comfort. Before you called I was looking into this blackout, trying to see if I could break through it or not. I gotta tell you, man, that fucking thing is unlike anything I've ever come across. I couldn't even find the source of the blackout; it seems like it was buried directly in the heart of the system and shifted throughout the network. It was like trying to grab a hand full of sand then trying to hold on to it." Josh said, with awe in his voice.

"So, you don't know if it's connected to Cross or not?" Chambers asked for the first time.

Josh hesitated for just a fraction of a second before he answered. "No, I don't know for sure. But this thing has triggered something in an old memory I have. It reminds me of a theory I heard in college from a classmate, brilliant fellow, a bit strange but brilliant. Some said his IQ was off the charts and he could do all sorts of things with a computer that even the professor couldn't understand. This guy, Marcus, had a superiority complex and was antisocial to boot. Never trusted the Professors because he thought they were jealous of his intellect, which was that main reason why he dropped out. Haven't heard from him in almost nine, maybe ten, years or so. His theory was that someone, given enough preparation and time, could take over and control the Internet. He also said that whoever could control the Internet would have unlimited power." Josh finished.

"How could control of the Internet lead to unlimited power?" Chambers asked.

"The Treaty of Versailles, a single document, ended WWI but it was also one of the leading causes for WWII. Well, the written word has more power now than it did two hundred years ago." Josh said. "Jesus! All that for a piece of paper?" Chambers asked.

"You've heard the old saying 'The pen is mightier than the sword?'" Philips stated.

"Right. So was that all or was their something else you wanted to discuss?" Josh asked.

"Yeah; just one more thing... Remember, your promise Josh, because this is the important part." Philips tried to impress as much sternness in his voice. After receive a nod from Josh he continued. "Two months ago there was a break-in at a CDC viral research center. Someone, or a small group, managed to get past all of the security measures and take a very lethal viral contaminate. We think Cross is behind it but we can't pin it on him." Philips said, sounding depressed as he went on.

"Fuck me! You're saying their some nut running around out there with a deadly virus?" Josh asked, in a panic.

"Yes. The media was kept in the dark so as to not cause a panic in the populace. Anyway, the virus that was stolen was a bio-engineered strain. Some researcher created it trying to see if it had any medical attribute but it came out looking more like a weapon than anything else. It was modeled off Ebola. Good thing is its not contagious and has a short duration, about five minutes in the open air." Phillips said, looking like shit.

"Ok, so it's not as bad as it could have been though." Josh said, trying to find the silver lining in this situation.

"Don't go looking for the happy ending just yet computer boy." Chambers barked from his desk.

"Right, almost forgot about that. The virus is an air born strain. But once it's release from it's containment it will only last for five minutes. Now, put it in New York City during a rush hour and one decent breeze will spread that bad boy. It could infect hundreds, thousands, hell even hundreds of thousands of people. Maybe even a million if the little bastard was lucky." Phillips said, looking like he wanted to throw up.

Josh paled at what the consequences of such a thing could be.

"Christ, bio warfare! Once they're infected they'll spread it like a wildfire." Josh stated calmly.

"No, at least we don't have to worry about that. Once a person is infected it can't be spread in any other way, not through bodily fluids or physical damage. The infected person has about thirty minutes to live as the virus replicates through their blood stream. The immune system doesn't have enough time to react to it before the host organs turn to pea soup and they die of a huge hemorrhage. Quick, fast, deadly, bloody and there's no known cure for it either." Philips finished.

"We're fucked." Josh eked out.

"Yep. Except, whoever took it hasn't used it yet, which isn't very helpful. So would you mine looking into it for me?' Philips asked.

"Yeah, no problem." He said then left.

___________________________

The President made his way towards the podium as he was announced by one of the lower functionaries. He knew what was coming, which made him excited to the point of bursting. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a or the TV crew operating their equipment, the little red light shining brightly letting everyone present know they were live. This broadcast was going out on all the emergency channels and overriding every regular broadcast that was scheduled. He made his way up on the podium pouring himself a glass of cold water for his throat that suddenly had gone dry. He put the glass down then cleared his throat before speaking. "Ladies and gentlemen; and members of Congress, I stand before you today with grave news. Earlier today an unknown source has attacked the greater North American region, effectively cutting communications with the rest of the world, by using our own computer network against us." The President paused for a brief moment to gather his thoughts.

As he did, murmurs spread out like a rippling wave throughout the cavernous room.

The President raised his hand to quit the murmur but it took longer than was necessary. "As of yet we don't know the source or the reason for this terrorist attack. But we have consulted many experts concerning this situation. Unfortunately, they are just as puzzled by this occurrence as we are. However our investigation is still ongoing and we hope to have the perpetrator, or perpetrators in custody within the next forty-eight hours." The President finished.

From one of the hidden doors a low-level flunky rushed up to the podium and whispered into one of the secret service agents' ear. The agent then nodded his head then stepped up on the podium and interrupted the President. As the President heard the news from the agent his face quickly turned ashen then to white. Jordan Cross entered through the gigantic double doors leading down the main aisle, making a grand spectacle as the President locked his eyes on the one known as his master. As Cross walked down the narrow aisle he heard the angry half whispers as they were being exchanged. Some of the Congressmen secretly called security on hidden panic buttons while others hoped that he'd be shot for what he knew. As he climbed the steps towards the podium the angry whispers became outraged bellows. The secret service moved to intercept him but the President quickly waved them off and they returned to their positions. Once Jordan was standing in front of the President, the head of the US got down on his knees and kissed Jordan's recently polished Italian leather shoes.

That one act brought complete silence into the hall and nearly tripled the viewer ratings for CNN. Jordan placed his right hand on top of his servants' head as he was looked upon with admiration. His smile was cool and calculating as he looked down at the most powerful man in the free world before promptly kicking the man right in the face. The spray of blood was most impressive as it arched back through the air and landed on various objects. He turned towards the rushing secret service man and bellowed. "Kingdom Come!"

The twenty secret service agents stopped dead in their tracks as their minds processed the trigger phrase. Cross had planned for this moment for years so nothing had left nothing to chance. He then spoke the next trigger word to his now waiting followers. "Open the cellar door."

This phrase turned the agents loyalty over to him, forcing them to take orders from only him and his followers.

"Take your places." Cross ordered, causing them to retreat towards the exits, to guard them.

He then turned back to the now captive audience and the millions of people watching on TV. Speaking into the mike, he said, "Kingdom Come at Last".

Across the country thousands of unknown sleeper agents, who were watching, went into action, finally hearing their command phrase. All were programmed with different tasks and were one hundred percent loyal to Jordan Cross. Army, Air Force and Naval Bases were the first to exchange leadership positions, some without any complications, while a few others required a forty caliber send off.

As this was happening Cross began his prepared rant at Congress. "Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen, members of Congress. Today is the dawn of a new age for America. I won't bore you with pointless chatter so I'll come right to the point. America is a shadow of it's former self, its very core corrupted by greed, ambition, and power mongers. Don't act so shocked, the vast majority of you broker backroom meetings with influential corporations. Taking kickbacks so you vote for or against policies they don't approve of. We, as a nation, could have created more gas efficient vehicles or put more funding into finding alternative energy sources. But no, most of the major oil companies have you in their front pockets while we destroy more of our environment every year. Some of you started out meaning well, a small few in fact, but you've been here too long, seen too much. Now, you are jaded hustlers." Cross said evenly.

He paused for a brief moment and looked into the sea of glares. "Of course, there are those here who, in fact, are closet criminals, people you wouldn't want to watch your kids for a second. Let's see, ah yes. It seems our friend, the senator from Minnesota, is present. Well you see; Petey here is what you call a pedophile. Flies to Thailand bimonthly on a 'feed the starving children gimmick'. But, what he actually does, is pay to have sex with nine year old boys. His wife doesn't know a thing about it, until I FedEx-ed her photos of his indiscretions to her earlier this morning." Jordan said, with the slightest amount of humor in his voice.

"You son of a bitch!!" exclaimed a husky man from the back of the hall.

"Next we have a congresswoman who likes to rent out crack-whores then repeatedly sodomizes them with various instruments. There's more to that one but I'll keep the juicy details for later. After her we have a congressman who likes to be to be dominated by willful women and be used by various 'trained' animals. If you wondering who that is just look for the guy turning beat red and trying to swallow a lot of prescription pills at the moment."

Amazingly they found him in less than ten seconds, choking down a bottle full of Nexium.

"Then there is Donald Litmore, senator from North Dakota, who pays professional kidnappers to pickup little girls, ranging in ages from nine to fourteen. Then he rapes them repeatedly and tortures them until they die from whatever method he's using at the time. He even has his little brother join in the 'fun' from time to time. You all know who he is; he hosts the early morning talk shows for the DC area."

More shocked gasps could be heard in the hall than before.

Cross waved to one of the secret service agents and pointed at Litmore, signaling his intent with his expression. The agent calmly moved towards the senator, who tried to run for his life, but he pulled out a 9mm Glock then shot the man in the back. The noise retort was loud within the hall, as the man crumpled down into the aisle with a single bullet wound in the back. Obviously he used Hollow points because there was no exit wound and his insides were probably nothing more than a lot of big chunks.

"And now for the reason for why I'm here...It's quite simple really, you've been found to be lacking and are no longer fit to run this country because you care nothing for its' people. You've spread our military too thin across the globe, killing our countrymen and, currently, we have the highest national debt on record. There are people out there who need jobs that pay more than minimum wage. But those jobs are being sent over seas because they can make whatever we need cheaper. Drugs run like water in the streets and you do nothing to stem the flow of them coming into this country using half measures that were known to be ineffective. For these reasons we the people of America say that your services are no longer needed and that new management is taking over. For those of you who don't understand: you're fired and I am now Emperor of the American Empire." Jordan finished an evil glare in his eyes.

The silence was deafening and the sound of splintering wood broke that silence as dozens of armored shock troops entered the hall, carrying automatic and semi-automatic rifles. When they took up their positions Jordan signaled them with his hand. The rifles belched off several rounds per second, cutting down everyone in line of fire. Representatives and Senators fell, screaming and clutching wounded limbs or holding onto internal organs that suddenly had become external. It took nearly twenty-one minutes for the screaming and moaning to finally stop. Once it did the smell of blood and offal filled the hall. A single moan next to Jordan alerted him to the fact) that his pawn was finally stirring. The look of utter bewilderment stretched on his wrinkled face as he stared out into a sea of horror. He turn towards Jordan and asked a question, "M...mas...master, why? Why did this have to happen?" The former President asked.

Jordan gave him a small, sad smile that didn't reach his eyes, before answering. "It's simple fool; I no longer needed their presence." Jordan replied. He then extended his hand and a secret service agent handed him a loaded pistol. Jordan then aimed it at the man kneeling before him, cowering just like a sniveling dog.

"Just like I no longer need you. I'll see you in hell you pathetic, little man." Jordan sneered.

The sound of the hammer being cocked echoed loudly in the giant hall as the man that was the President stared down the barrel of the gun, wondering if this was just a bad dream. There was no doubting as the pistol flashed and the United States died with its' leader.