The CleanSweep Conspiracy Read Online Free PDF

Doesn’t that sound familiar?”
    “Are you sure you aren’t the one obsessed, especially with this program of Claussen’s? It sounds way over the top,” Bryan said.
    For a moment, the two sat in silence, sipping their beers.
    Finally, Bryan shook his head saying, “C’mon. It can’t be as bad as all that, Matt. If people aren’t doing anything wrong, what’s the harm?”
    “What’s the harm, you ask? A source said he was worried about the same things I’m talking about. We were having breakfast one morning. I can still remember the nervous way he glanced around the room and over his shoulder as he spoke. He even said he thought they knew we were having breakfast together. At the time, I was incredulous, like you. I laughed, telling him he sounded paranoid. He said that sometimes paranoia is justified.”
    “You didn’t take him seriously, did you?”
    “Not at the time. But I started asking around. No one seemed to know any real details, though rumors were flying that a new initiative was being considered based on PROFUNC, a nasty, malignant holdover from the Cold War. Another one of my sources said that this time, however, it wasn’t just Commies and pinkos being targeted — that the scope was much wider than we could ever imagine.”
    “Wasn’t a story about something like that reported in the paper a while back?” Bryan asked. “I didn’t think it had much substance. It sounded more like crazy conspiracy theorists on ecstasy.”
    Matt frowned. “I thought so at the time — until I overheard another conversation about it. I was on an elevator in Government Plaza. They were talking about something ‘worse than terrorism,’ one said. ‘Terrorism?’ I heard one ask the other. ‘Isn’t that what Claussen’s project is all about?’ ‘Something worse,’ the other one said, and then he stopped, realizing I was listening.”
    Matt rubbed his left shoulder with his right hand, massaging a muscle as he talked to Bryan. “I remember wondering at the time what could be worse than terrorism. But when they realized I was on the elevator with them, they both clammed up.”
    “And now you think it is worse? That whatever is going on is worse than terrorist attacks on our soil would be?” his friend on the bar stool asked, a sarcastic undertone lacing the question.
    “I’ve heard enough rumors to believe it’s the truth. We are all being warned about terrorists coming from the outside. I’m convinced the real attack is coming from within .”
    “I can tell you’re emotional about it,” Bryan said, hiding his feelings behind his mug.
    “I was already publishing a blog,” Matt continued, “so I began writing a second one, dedicated just to this story. I posted that ‘as a society, we are running out of groups to marginalize’ piece. Demagogues always need a scapegoat to use to create fear and panic in the population, to get more votes for safety and security programs, get more money for bigger and more lethal weapons systems. I wrote that maybe a new class of people was being pinpointed, a new target to be demonized and marginalized — and if we needed to invent one, we would. That one, single blog entry generated a lot of responses, let me tell you.”
    Matt could tell Bryan was still skeptical. “Tanner gave me a list of the people Claussen kept in his sights — all the people he considered misfits, or a drain on society.”
    Matt took a final swallow and placed the empty mug on the bar. He nodded to the bartender for another. He could tell Bryan still wasn’t buying it. “Look, since prehistoric times, tribes have indoctrinated the young about the dangers of assimilation into other tribes. Elders told stories about how evil other tribes were, how it was ‘our tribe versus theirs.’
    “At the turn of the nineteenth century, anarchists found bull’s - eyes painted on their backs and became the target of propagandists. They were demonized, used to create fear and panic. Newspapers