Point Man: Chapter One

August 10, 2016


My name is Jake Chapel. I tell you this right off the bat because I don’t know how far I will be able to get into this… let’s call it ‘re-creation of events’ that have led me to where I am.


At any moment, I feel they will find me and without warning kick down my door, where after I will vanish and never be seen again. I know that’s what people say when they feel frightened or cornered, and many would tell me I’m paranoid or overreacting, but I can tell you for a fact I’m not.


I, quite recently in fact, was one of these people that could make others disappear with no trace of foul play or violence. There would be literally nothing the police or any other agency could find that would allow them to locate the missing or lead them to me or the organization I work for. And it’s not as hard as one might think.


As most jobs are in the world, you could be extremely good at something if you put your heart into it, paid attention and became efficient. My job was no different. I became the best. So trust me when I tell you, if these people… I will change that to when these people find me, I’m as good as gone. And when they find me, I guess my name will not be important because this ‘re-creation of events’ will have disappeared as well.


There is no blaming anyone, this is all on me, but feel if I just told you the story wouldn’t be plausible. There is background to be explained and the span of a lifetime to understand and if someone had told me this is where I’d be today, I wouldn’t have believed they were capable of such an irrational concept.


As you will shortly see, nothing in my life is simple and everything I’ve accomplished over the years is even harder to imagine.


In an attempt to become more, I followed a path in my life most don’t get to learn or hear about, let alone find out exist. How I fell into it is even more perplexing because it happened quickly with little understanding of what I was walking into.


It was never my intention to end up involved with the world’s most powerful secret society but somehow as if the cosmos answered the neediness for discovery within me, it happened. For more than twenty years now, I’ve dedicated my life to insuring the safety and security of The Blackhawk Group. A group formed for the sole purpose of one day ruling the world.


As a secret society, you could say the order has been around for hundreds of years. Most descendants have been raised in families from the legendary Free Masons of history’s past. They have been bred and educated to be powerful citizens, of many different countries, only to be in a position to influence social anarchy when the time comes to choose a New World Order.


Today I’m sitting in this run down motel in Portland to try and illustrate what has transpired over the years in what I believe has led to my current situation. Whoever finds this please make sure it gets to my father, Jonathan Chapel. I have not seen him since the day I left but he should know what I’ve become. He will never be proud of the things I’ve done nor would he ever condone something as illegal as this ‘community’ I’ve become a part of. He has searched for me often and I have assurances in place he will never find me but yet he still tries. For that alone, I feel I owe him an explanation.


Unfortunately, recent events have become complicated and living through the week is a real question to me at this point. I fear inevitability is on its way.


I’ve seen and done things no man should be proud of but my faith and devotion to the society’s mission has never wavered. I’ve been loyal to the cause and now somehow it has come around making me the target of some evil and elaborately laid out conspiracy. My own agency wants me dead and I have nowhere to hide, nowhere to go for the first time since I was recruited. I’ve gone from hunter to the hunted and the last three days I’ve scampered for my life like a deer trying to outrun an arrow.


Already in motion, and what the society likes to call a ‘sanitation crew’, has already been established. These are the people that are looking for me intently and whom I’m waiting for to come through my door.


 Their job will be to eliminate all indications of my involvement within The Blackhawk Group. Simply put, they will send an assassin to kill me and then destroy all the evidence of who I am. If this is found, there is a good chance no one will ever see it but I have to try. Although I may be gone, I’d like others to know I was not always the monster The Blackhawk Group has made me out to be.


There is no starting small so I’ll just jump right to it.


They do not want their name in the open public. They control too much and have much to lose. But even though I may be dead, I want it to be known that I was always loyal and my allegiance to the agency was absolute. From day one I’ve done everything asked of me and completed all my missions successfully, even the questionable ones.


The Blackhawk Group has people in every city, county, state and federal agency in the world. As an example I currently know of twenty-two people working for the agency that are operational inside the CIA, three of which are stationed within the pentagon but there could be more. This alone is a major source of intelligence but it’s not enough for them.


Information is power as you’ve heard before but The Blackhawk Group wants more.


It is said the United States, Israel and Britain are the biggest intelligence agencies in the world and The Blackhawk Group has people inside all three. With vast resources such as these, the answers to all my questions were never more than a keystroke or phone call away.


I’ve been privileged enough to meet and work alongside individuals that have known both sides of any given conflict, going on anywhere in the world, and with the right amount of intervention have manipulated the outcome.


I’ve seen people kill to keep a secret, whether it’s about war, impeding judgment orders or interoffice policies it’s all the same. We have rules and we live and die by them. I’ve nearly died a hundred times trying to hide mine but the fact remains they are everywhere.


Their goal is almost complete. A New World Order in which they will command and maintain is almost among us. The United States and China will no longer be the superpowers they are today. They will work together and regulate the population according to their terms. The ones that resist the change will simply be destroyed.


There will be no more presidents or governments. There will only be them and the militaries which they will control the world.


How I became involved started in high school just before graduation when I was recruited.


 In school, sports were my outlet. I was fast, quick on my feet with reflexes faster than most. I was taught basic jiujutsu from an uncle when I was younger and practiced daily and by the time high school came around I only had to prove myself once my freshman year.


It was after school, not even on the school grounds, when a popular senior from the football team threatened to kick my ass. In truth, I didn’t know he was talking to me but when he grabbed me from behind, for whatever reason, I turned instinctively and took his feet out from under him with a leg sweep precisely placed below the calf.


He hit the ground with a thud.


From the ground he charged, his shoulder aimed for my midsection, in the jock-football-tackle approach, so with spot-on timing, and momentum, I drove my elbow into the back of his shoulder, separating it from the collarbone.


I didn’t know what I did, or didn’t do, that set him off and I really didn’t care, so I walked away without asking.


Amazingly, the entire school heard about our encounter the next day and after what became known as Clash of the Not-so-Titian, none of the upper classmen bothered me again. Needless to say, I made it through the next four years of high school on reputation alone.


My IQ was high according to some silly test they told me I did well on but I still slacked in my classes and schoolwork. I didn’t know then, but understand now, that the work simply didn’t hold my attention. I found it uninteresting and as I continue to explain, will get further into that later on.


I had no intentions of being a lawyer or doctor stuck in an office and felt comfortable with just being a high school graduate. I didn’t know what was around the corner or exactly who I wanted to be but knew I would enjoy finding out. I was waiting for that something else. That entity many don’t get to know.


Popularity in school was minimal. I didn’t want to be known and liked being alone and had a great group of loyal friends, all of which I left without hesitation once I was accepted into the society. They didn’t deserve the way I left, without a word, but that’s how it happened. Later I’d learn that it was my way of thinking that allowed me to leave the way I did.


We were typical teenagers, causing troubles in the classroom, not showing up half the time or better yet not showing up at all.


My senior year, I repeated Civics class because of my poor attendance record the year before. It’s not that I didn’t like the class; it simply happened to fall on the second lunch hour. At my school, the lunches were split into two. Half went the first hour, the rest to the second, which most of my friends were on. So I skipped class and took a second lunch with them, hence the repeated Civics course.  


Sporting events were routine. Every Friday night we had football and a party. If it wasn’t football, it was basketball, but either way there was always a party.


Girlfriends came and went, mostly went, because I couldn’t commit as I was told on more than one occasion. It wasn’t necessarily boredom that drove me away but more of this thing in my head that didn’t allow me to commit to things. As simplistic as it may sound, I could never find someone that saw the world as I did. And because of that, I found relationships once again uninteresting.


It wasn’t that girls didn’t like me, many liked the jock types, but the emotional complications that girls entertained were more than I wanted to understand at the time.


Like most teenage girls, they wanted a fantasy that storybook fairytales told them about when they were little. From such a young age, they searched for a Prince Charming to rescue them from the normal life of a typical teenager so that they could run away to a life of wonder and awe. Most guys, me included, aren’t even ready for that at thirty, let alone eighteen. So again, because of my way of thinking my relationships never lasted long.


For about three months, to cause more trouble than we needed, we went through a phase of stealing and breaking into vehicles. My friend Tony acquired the skills to hotwire the 80’s style Corvettes but my specialty became stealing car stereos that were easy to sell to the other kids at school.


That ended abruptly when an old man shot at us after Tony, showing off, stomped on the gas and smoked the tires while we were still in the man’s driveway.


One of the bullets entered the back window with a smack and split between us in the front seats. Trailing behind the bullet were small fragments of glass, some of which hit the left side of my face well after the bullet had already exited the front window. I heard two more loud bangs but neither one came as close as the first and although we never actually talked about it aloud that was the last car we ever stole.


When finals came around at the end of my senior year, and I was ready to move on, I was approached by a Navy recruiter and enlisted as a sailor a month before graduation. It was unknown to me at the time but my recruiter was employed by The Blackhawk Group.


We talked for weeks because I was unsure about military life but recruiters are very convincing to the young ones who want to try new things. Mine told me I could be anything, a pilot, a firefighter, a bomb tech, etc... We went through the entire list of Navy careers and many interested me. I really thought about being a firefighter for a while, something about it excited me, but finally I settled on Combat/Search and Rescue Swimmer. He told me I would be a natural.


And there it was, that feeling I was made for something more but that was only the start.


Before any papers were signed, my recruiter revealed I must take a psychological exam. Now mind you I’ve already aced my ASVAB and entry exams. My SAT’s for high school were not great, because to tell the truth I didn’t try my hardest, but showed I had for use of better words, common sense. The test seemed redundant but who was I to argue with the military.


So I took the test. This was a test like none I’ve ever taken in high school, or any test I’ve taken since for that matter. It was direct ‘what would you do?’ questions and ‘how would you handle this?’ type questions. A few questions demanded you to put your loyalty and commitment to the test asking, would you kill for something you believe in? And honesty was a requirement.


In that three-hour test, I rescued a cat from a tree, kicked the crap out of a bully and killed an intruder breaking into my home who had a gun. All of which I felt were acceptable answers.


There were many problem-solving questions but they didn’t include math. These told a story, usually about someone dying and I had to figure out how.


One in particular was ‘would I stop to help an injured woman, that would die if I didn’t, if I knew a bomb would explode, killing ten, that I could disarm?’ and asked to explain. My answer, as my common sense dictates, was to not help her but instead disable the bomb, saving ten instead of the one. The greater good as it’s known. 


I felt like a police detective investigating unsolved murders, always looking for the next clue that leads you to that final answer.


There were many questions I didn’t know how to answer, or if they had a correct answer to, but I put down what I would have done.  


As you can imagine I had what they were looking for because the next day my recruiter arrived at my school, pulled me out of class and said he had someone for me to meet.


Down the street from my school was a park that most of us hung out at in the evenings. Once or twice, I even spent the night in that park for no other reason than not to be at home.


A basketball court occupied an area near the road and four racquetball enclosures stood openly in the center.


North of the courts was a small sandy playground for children which contained a little, but well-worn swing set and two rocking horses, one pink and one blue.


At the picnic table, just off the playground, a man sat alone.

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