The Days of Noah: Book One: Conspiracy Read Free

fifty-six minutes after the impact.
    “Even if you want to believe the official story on the Twin Towers, how can you explain Building Seven collapsing from a small fire? It was never hit by a plane and never exposed to jet fuel, yet it fell, as if it was a planned demolition.
    “In fact, several pictures of support beams in the sublevels show perfectly cut beams with molten metal dripping down the front of the beams. It looks exactly like what you would see when thermite shape charges are used in demolition.”
    “You’ve certainly memorized a lot of facts and figures,” Noah responded.
    “Mr. Parker, the implications of what these facts and figures mean makes them the most important set of data in recent history,” Kramer replied.
    “We have some big problems with the plane that hit the Pentagon as well. For one thing, no pictures of the impact have ever been released. The government should release the videos or pictures that prove the type of plane that crashed. Surveillance cameras are all over the area where the plane hit.
    “Another major issue is the size of the hole made by the impact of the plane in the pictures of the Pentagon after the attack and before the wall collapsed. The hole is only seventeen feet wide, and the wingspan of the plane that hit it was one 125 feet. There was no debris that would be consistent with a plane crash of that size. No tail section and no wings that didn’t damage the walls. Where did the wings go?”
    The class stared at Noah Parker like they were expecting him to debunk Allen Kramer’s theory, but he sat silently. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of the bell.
    Allen Kramer made one last comment. “A few well-made documentaries on YouTube cover a lot of the facts. Loose Change is a good one; also check out Ripple Effect . If you really want to know what the professionals think, check out the YouTube channel AE911truth. It represents a coalition of over 1,500 architects and engineers, including some very prominent ones, that disagree with the official story we’ve been told.”
    Noah gathered his things and kept his head down. He’d had enough of all this. As the last student left, Noah locked the classroom door and headed home.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 2
     
     
    I live in the Managerial Age, in a world of “Admin.” The greatest evil is not now done in those sordid “dens of crime” that Dickens loved to paint. It is not done even in concentration camps and labour camps. In those we see its final result. But it is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clean, carpeted, warmed and well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voices. Hence, naturally enough, my symbol for Hell is something like the bureaucracy of a police state or the office of a thoroughly nasty business concern.
    C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters
     
    Twenty-six-year-old Everett Carroll was recruited straight out of grad school at George Washington University into the CIA. His position as a Directorate of Intelligence Officer was a fancy way of saying analyst, but he knew it was an opportunity he couldn’t turn down.
    The job started at $88,000. It was understood that part of the pay was considered compensation for keeping your mouth shut, not asking questions, and doing exactly as you were told.
    Even with the rapid pace of inflation in recent years, Everett Carroll enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle afforded by the generous starting salary. He drove a new BMW, dressed fashionably, and ate out most evenings. Everett cared about his looks and his health. He hit the gym every morning before work and played tennis on Saturdays, when the weather permitted.
    He had been with the Company, what insiders called the CIA, for two years. So far his tasks were menial and narrow in scope. He had never been given the big picture of what the overall mission was. He wasn’t allowed to