Foxx Log 13

DATE: 12/15/1994
FROM: Toni Salideno <tpyrc.iratihk|onidelas#tpyrc.iratihk|onidelas>
TO: Benjamin K. Lee <tpyrc.iratihk|elkneb#tpyrc.iratihk|elkneb>
SUBJECT: Re: I'm feeling guilty as shit


I'm still not quite sure what just happened.

I fucking hate this position I've been put in now, and I know it's not my fault, but more importantly, I believe that it isn't my fault, which is really what matters. However, it's like I'm looking through a red haze. All I want to do is walk into Langley and kill as many of the bastards as I can. So with a heavy heart, I'm going to be dropping off the radar for a while, so if one of you can take over some of the inter-net issues and organization, that'd be great.

Although the last thing I want to do is be thinking about the Records, at this point, Foxx was an amazing connection. His job existed on the internet, and as a lawyer, he could do whatever batshit he wanted. More than that, he was a great friend of mine. We're going to need to find someone else with that perfect tinge of adventure, and the blend of creativity and the business connections.

Thanks from a grieving keeper, Toni


[VOICE MESSAGE - 1:35:11]

[CONTACT: FOXX]

Foreward by Saledino:
It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you, my fellow Khitari, that a fellow member has fallen. Michael Foxx.

At 01:15:53, 12-15-1994, I received a voicemail, which I discovered the following morning. The transcript of the message is recorded below, I did my best to transcribe the audio to text. I will warn our younger or more squeamish members, the recording is graphic and deeply upsetting. Following the transcript, I'll be taking a moment to remember Michael, as someone who knew him personally.
Once compromised, the connection between my phone and his was severed. As is standard procedure, any device connected to The Network that is compromised is immediately disconnected and it's internal contents encrypted via RSA. Michael's firm phone wasn't a connected device, but I'm thinking TC must have been able to disconnect our connection anyway, given the time it dropped.


[Ring]
.
. .
. . .
[Ring]
.
. .
. . .
[Ring]
.
. .
. . .
[Hey, this is Tony. Sorry to miss your call, page me, or try to call me around 10:00 PST. Thanks, leave a message if you've got something urgent. Saledino, out.]

Foxx: Hey, Tony, this is Mike. I've investigated the situation, and to be frank, I'm pretty pissed at this whole thing. You send me out here to look for this thing, with ZERO info, and I had to reschedule a firm meeting. Next time, we work around MY schedule. Anyways, I'll be at this coffee shop for about an hour, so feel free to call me back if you-

Agent: Mr. Foxx? Charles Meade, FBI. Can you come have a chat with us?

[Note: Rustling sounds. We interpret this to mean the phone was put into Foxx's backpack.]

Foxx: What is this? I haven't done anything wrong. I'm a lawyer you know.

Agent 2: Of course we know, Michael. We know everything about you. And we think it would greatly benefit you to have a chat with us.

Foxx: I'm not going anywhere until you guys tell me what the hell-

Agent: We have a warrant for your arrest, Michael. But if you come with us, have a little conversation at the station, we'll tear it up, and it can all be forgotten.

Foxx: Doesn't really look like I have a choice, does it? Nice tag team you've got going here.

Agent: I'm dying of laughter here, Mr. Foxx. Please come with us.

[Note: Driving sounds, as well as walking. No further speaking occurred until 0:15:21]

[Door shuts and Agent 2 locks it.]

Foxx: Okay, I'm here. Now you assholes better tell me exactly what you've got and why the hell you took me here for questioning. I'm a citizen, and this violates all sorts of laws. In fact, I-

[Note: A heavy blow, then gasping. We interpret this as an Agent striking Foxx, most likely in the face or abdomen.]

Foxx: Jesus… Christ… you guys are fucking… what the hell…

[Note: We have reason to believe Foxx was strapped to a "lie-detector" system at this point.]

Agent 2: Let's get down to business, Mr. Foxx. Any lies, and you get punished. Any questions?

Foxx: Fuck you… you fucking ass-

[Another heavy blow, then more gasping.]

Agent: WE DON'T LIKE PEOPLE THAT FUCK WITH US, YOU UNDERSTAND, FOXX?! YOU UNDERSTAND, SHITHEAD? YOU FUCKING ANSWER OUR QUESTIONS, OR I'LL FUCKING TEAR YOUR DAMN HEAD OFF.

Foxx: I… under…stand…

Agent 2: We're not here to hurt you, Mr. Foxx. In fact, I think you're a nice guy. We just want some answers.

[Rustling of papers.]

Agent: The Records program, Foxx. Tell us everything you know about it. Now.

[Silence.]

Agent: You fancy yourself a tough guy, eh, Foxx? Well let me tell you. We don't work for the FBI. We work for a branch of the gov you've never fucking heard about. The CID. You know what that stands for, shithead? Contingency Information Department. It's our job to weed out people like you, undermining America, and end their miserable shitty little lives.

Agent 2: What he's saying, Michael, is that, if you answer our questions, you walk out of here a free man. You go back to making a million bucks a year, and you live a happy life. Find a wife, maybe, who knows where you can go from here. Otherwise…

Agent: Otherwise? Otherwise, IT'S A FUCKING SHALLOW GRAVE FOR YOU, FOXX. WE HAVE THE JURISDICTION TO KILL TERRORISTS LIKE YOU, YOU KNOW THAT, SHITHEAD? LIVING YOUR COMFORTABLE FUCKIN' LIFE, MAKING PEOPLE SUFFER?! YOU FUCKING PIECE OF GODDAMN SHIT. I'LL FUCKING GRIND YOUR HEAD-

Foxx: The… only thing I… know about the Records program, is…

Foxx: Actually, can I… get a drink of… water?

Agent 2: Sure, Michael.

[Chair pulls back, door slams.]

Agent: Enjoying yourself yet, Foxx?

[Silence.]

[Door opens, chair pulls back, chair goes in.]

Agent 2: So, Michael. Tell us about the Records program. Everything.

[Foxx takes a drink of water. Then he spits it into the face of the Agent.]

[Note: Slamming sound and crash. We believe Foxx's head was slammed onto the interrogation table.]

Agent 2: Foxx. This is it. Last chance. The Record. What do you know about it?

[Foxx mumbles, and spits out a bloody tooth.]

Agent 2: Speak up, Foxx.

Foxx: Go… To… Hell.

Agent 2: Red needle, Meade. Left arm.

Foxx: See you… in hell, dipshits.

[Silence]

Agent: Damn. They never crack.

Agent 2: I know. They're better than our boys. We should get some Russians over here to investigate them.

[Laughter]

Agent 2: How'd your psych meeting go?

Agent: Oh well, you know. Same old, same old. Told me I was bipolar or some shit. You honestly can't trust these quacks. I never did-

[Door slams]

[Note: Silence until 1:12:23]

[Door opens again.]

Agent 3: -didn't open up his fucking backpack? What are you, fucking amateurs? This is the fourth Khitari guy we've got, and ZERO information? Fucking seriously?

Agent 2: The guy was a lawyer. He probably wasn't even the right guy.

Agent 3: And so you guys killed him anyways. Fucking professional.

[Rustling sounds. Backpack zipper opens]

Agent 3: What the shit is this? It's still calling someone?

Agent 2: I swear to fucking god, he didn't have a phone at all.

Agent 3: Who's he calling? We might be able to track the calle-

[VOICEMAIL END]

When I discovered the voicemail, I wasn't sure how to handle the situation. Mostly, I took it with initial shock, I still believe I am handling the shock of it all. Michael was a personal friend and a dedicated member, who has been recording for Khitari for a helluva long time. His talent, resourcefulness, and ability to adapt made him one of the best among us, and his reports are exhilarating reads with extreme detail. It is truly a loss for those who knew him, the Records program, and the world at large. Michael was out at that there investigating a lead I informed him of, a rumor circulating out in that area. I believe the rumor was fabricated as a lure and I unwittingly sent Michael into that lions den. I can't help but to feel responsible, which doesn't help me or the Khitari in any way.
I would take this time to remind all of us operating out there to remember our first law, Remain Safe. The things we record are often dangerous, the people who would dismantle and dissect us are hazardous. We are explorers in a new strange land and the unknown can be very risky. What we do is important, it is worth the risk, and when we take this upon ourselves we know what could happen, we accept that risk. Please, for me and the entire Records program, and you, maintain safety as a number one priority.