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decolonize-the-left · 11 months

Text

This is not a drill

This is IMPORTANT especially if you live in the USA or use the internet REGULATED by the USA!!!!

Do not scroll. Signal boost. Reblog.

Reblog WITHOUT reading if you really can't right now, I promise all the links and proof are here. People NEED to know this.

( I tried to make this accessible but you can't cater to EVERYONE so please just try your best to get through this or do your own research 🙏)

TLDR: Homeland Security has been tying our social media to our IPs, licenses, posts, emails, selfies, cloud, apps, location, etc through our phones without a warrant using Babel X and will hold that information gathered for 75 years. Certain aspects of it were hushed because law enforcement will/does/has used it and it would give away confidential information about ongoing operations.

This gets renewed in September.

Between this, Agincourt (a VR simulator for cops Directly related to this project), cop city, and widespread demonization of abortions, sex workers, & queer people mixed with qanon/Trumpism, and fascism in Florida, and the return of child labor, & removed abortion rights fresh on our tails it's time for alarms to be raised and it's time for everyone to stop calling us paranoid and start showing up to protest and mutual aid groups.

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

These are the same feds who want to build cop city and recreate civilian houses en masse and use facial recognition. The same feds that want cop city to also be a training ground for police across the country. Cop city where they will build civilian neighborhoods to train in.

Widespread mass surveillance against us.

Now let's cut to some parts of the article. May 17th from Vice:

Customs and Border Protection (CBP) is using an invasive, AI-powered monitoring tool to screen travelers, including U.S. citizens, refugees, and people seeking asylum, which can in some cases link their social media posts to their Social Security number and location data, according to an internal CBP document obtained by Motherboard.

Called Babel X, the system lets a user input a piece of information about a target—their name, email address, or telephone number—and receive a bevy of data in return, according to the document. Results can include their social media posts, linked IP address, employment history, and unique advertising identifiers associated with their mobile phone. The monitoring can apply to U.S. persons, including citizens and permanent residents, as well as refugees and asylum seekers, according to the document.

“Babel data will be used/captured/stored in support of CBP targeting, vetting, operations and analysis,” the document reads. Babel X will be used to “identify potential derogatory and confirmatory information” associated with travelers, persons of interest, and “persons seeking benefits.” The document then says results from Babel X will be stored in other CBP operated systems for 75 years.

"The U.S. government’s ever-expanding social media dragnet is certain to chill people from engaging in protected speech and association online. And CBP’s use of this social media surveillance technology is especially concerning in connection with existing rules requiring millions of visa applicants each year to register their social media handles with the government. As we’ve argued in a related lawsuit, the government simply has no legitimate interest in collecting and retaining such sensitive information on this immense scale,” Carrie DeCell, senior staff attorney at the Knight First Amendment Institute, told Motherboard in an email.

The full list of information that Babel X may provide to CBP analysts is a target’s name, date of birth, address, usernames, email address, phone number, social media content, images, IP address, Social Security number, driver’s license number, employment history, and location data based on geolocation tags in public posts.

Bennett Cyphers, a special advisor to activist

organization the Electronic Frontier Foundation, told Motherboard in an online chat “the data isn’t limited to public posts made under someone’s real name on Facebook or Twitter.”

The document says CBP also has access to AdID information through an add-on called Locate X, which includes smartphone location data. AdID information is data such as a device’s unique advertising ID, which can act as an useful identifier for tracking a phone and, by extension, a person’s movements. Babel Street obtains location information from a long supply chain of data. Ordinary apps installed on peoples’ smartphones provide data to a company called Gravy Analytics, which repackages that location data and sells it to law enforcement agencies via its related company Venntel. But Babel Street also repackages Venntel’s data for its own Locate X product."

The PTA obtained by Motherboard says that Locate X is covered by a separate “commercial telemetry” PTA. CBP denied Motherboard’s FOIA request for a copy of this document, claiming it “would disclose techniques and/or procedures for law enforcement investigations or prosecutions”.

A former Babel Street employee previously told Motherboard how users of Locate X can draw a shape on a map known as a geofence, see all devices Babel Street has data on for that location, and then follow a specific device to see where else it has been.

Cyphers from the EFF added “most of the people whose location data is collected in this way likely have no idea it’s happening.”

CBP has been purchasing access to location data without a warrant, a practice that critics say violates the Fourth Amendment. Under a ruling from the Supreme Court, law enforcement agencies need court approval before accessing location data generated by a cell phone tower; those critics believe this applies to location data generated by smartphone apps too.

“Homeland Security needs to come clean to the American people about how it believes it can legally purchase and use U.S. location data without any kind of court order. Americans' privacy shouldn't depend on whether the government uses a court order or credit card,” Senator Ron Wyden told Motherboard in a statement. “DHS should stop violating Americans' rights, and Congress should pass my bipartisan legislation to prohibit the government's purchase of Americans' data." CBP has refused to tell Congress what legal authority it is following when using commercially bought smartphone location data to track Americans without a warrant.

Neither CBP or Babel Street responded to a request for comment. Motherboard visited the Babel X section of Babel Street’s website on Tuesday. On Wednesday before publication, that product page was replaced with a message that said “page not found.”

Do you know anything else about how Babel X is being used by government or private clients? Do you work for Babel Street? We'd love to hear from you. Using a non-work phone or computer, you can contact Joseph Cox securely on Signal on +44 20 8133 5190, Wickr on josephcox, or email [email protected].

Wow that sounds bad right.

Be a shame if it got worse.

It does.

The software (previously Agincourt Solutions) is sold by AI data company Babel Street, was led by Jeffrey Chapman, a former Treasury Department official,, Navy retiree & Earlier in his career a White House aide and intelligence officer at the Department of Defense, according to LinkedIn.

🙃

So what's Agincourt Solutions then right now?

SO FUCKING SUS IN RELATION TO THIS, THATS WHAT

In essence, synthetic BATTLEVR training is a mixture of all three realities – virtual, augmented and physical. It is flexible enough to allow for mission rehearsals of most types and be intuitive enough to make training effective.

Anyway the new CEO of Babel Street (Babel X) as of April is a guy named Michael Southworth and I couldn't find much more on him than that tbh, it's all very vague and missing. That's the most detail I've seen on him.

And the detail says he has a history of tech startups that scanned paperwork and sent it elsewhere, good with numbers, and has a lot of knowledge about cell networks probably.

Every inch more of this I learn as I continue to Google the names and companies popping up... It gets worse.

Monitor phone use. Quit photobombing and filming strangers and for the love of fucking God quit sending apps photos of your actual legal ID to prove your age. Just don't use that site, you'll be fine I swear. And quit posting your private info online. For activists/leftists NO personally identifiable info at least AND DEFINITELY leave your phone at home to Work™!!!

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robertreich · 3 months

Video

youtube

Five Biggest Border Lies Debunked

Republicans are lying about immigrants and the border. Here are five of their biggest doozies.

1. They claim Biden doesn’t want to secure the border

Well, that’s rubbish. Biden has consistently asked for additional funding for border security.

Republicans have just as consistently refused. They’re voting to cut Customs and Border Protection funding in spending bills and blocking passage of Biden’s $106 billion national security supplemental that includes border funding.

2. They blame the drug crisis on immigration

That’s more rubbish. While large amounts of fentanyl and other deadly drugs have been flowing into the U.S. from Mexico, 90% arrives through official ports of entry, not via immigrants illegally crossing the border. In fact, research by the Cato Institute found that more than 86% of the people convicted of trafficking fentanyl in 2021 were U.S. citizens.

3. They claim that undocumented immigrants are terrorists.

Baloney. For almost a half century, no American has been killed or injured in a terrorist attack in the United States that involved someone who crossed the border illegally.

4. They say immigrants are stealing American jobs.

Nonsense. Evidence shows immigrants are not taking jobs that American workers want. And the surge across the border is not increasing unemployment. Far from it: unemployment has been below 4% for roughly two years.

5. They blame crime on immigrants

More baloney. This has been debunked by numerous studies over the years. In fact, a 2020 study found that undocumented immigrants have "substantially" lower crime rates than native-born citizens and legal immigrants.

Notwithstanding the recent migrant surge, America’s homicide rate has fallen nearly 13% since 2022 — the largest decrease on record. Local law enforcement agencies are also reporting drops in violent crime.

Who’s really behind these lies?

Since he entered politics, Donald Trump has fanned nativist fears and bigotry.

Now leaning into full neo-fascism and using the actual language of Hitler to attack immigrants.

Trump wants us to forget that almost all of us are the descendants of immigrants who fled persecution, or were brought to America under duress, or simply sought better lives for themselves and their descendants.

Know the truth and spread it.

#youtube #video #videos #immigration #border #Donald Trump

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senorabond · 7 months

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Rumor Has It (Peña x f!reader x Pike)

Pairings: Javier Pena x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Pena x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 1 Summary: You've recently transferred from a promising job in D.C. to Texas when DEA Special Agent Javier Peña approaches you with his current case. Rumor has it you have an in with the FBI art crimes unit, and the DEA could use your skills and connections on a suspected narcos money laundering case. You need to do well on this case to prove yourself, but you're not sure Marcus Pike will even help after the way you left.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Mature-to-Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex and masturbation (f), previous sexual relationship, office romance, references to gossip and slut shaming, sexist/patriarchal bullshit, daydreaming about "little Peña"

Reader/Character Notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color.

Words: 4.4k

a/n: I started writing this thinking it'd be a quick and dirty PWP, but then the plot took over and I'm not sorry. Time/setting is pretty loose. This wasn't "officially" beta'd - all errors and weird formatting are my own. However, a very special thanks and kisses for @azure-waves and @kilamonster for reading early versions of this! 😘 Additional author's notes at the end.

Masterlist

Rumor Has It: Chapter One

Javier Peña thinks he’s hot shit. He struts about the office like he runs the place and conducts briefings like he's holding his own personal court. It'd be easier to chalk it up to pure ego and ignore him if he didn't actually have such an impressive resume to back it up. Unfortunately, that means putting up with yet another cocksure male flirting and fucking his way through the office your respective agencies share. At least he's easy on the eyes.

Since moving to Houston six months ago for a new position with the U.S. Customs and Border Protection, you'd clocked at least four broken hearts in Agent Peña's wake. In his defense, there are far more smiles than tears in the women's restroom when his name comes up in whispered conversation. You haven't heard this much gossip about a single guy since your senior year of high school when it was rumored that three cheerleaders got knocked up by the same football player as a pregnancy pact. For the record, only two girls were actually pregnant, and the alleged father ran off with the team’s water boy a few years out of college. They made a cute couple.

Favorite topics of conversation among Peña's admirers are his tight pants, who he's purportedly slept with, how good he must be in the sack, and contending reports of how big his dick actually is. Just that day you overheard one guy in the breakroom swear to a colleague that he'd seen ‘little Peña’ twitch while the DEA agent was briefing the latest developments in his investigation. You barely managed to hide your snort in your coffee, but had to admit the mental image was intriguing.

While not morally opposed to sleeping with somebody in the same office (that'd make you a hypocrite), you personally wouldn't want to risk the potential fallout of fooling around with someone as high profile as Agent Peña. The unfortunate reality is that women always bear the brunt of those consequences, and you aren't interested in putting your career on the line for a good dicking. As much as you may desperately need one.

You'd been out a few times since moving to the area, but calling those disasters “dates” would be too generous. One such encounter seemed like it was going well, until the guy answered a call from his mother, got into a shouting match with her over the phone, then cried over the bread basket. You promptly excused yourself and blocked his number from the cab ride home.

Since that night, the only dates you’d had were with some quality home entertainment and your trusty vibrator. The Magic Wand hadn’t failed you yet. Last night you enjoyed a delicious orgasm while watching a particularly excellent video featuring two men worshiping a woman’s body. That lucky bitch. It’d been way too long since you’d gotten laid, and it was starting to take its toll. Even with the regular, self-attained orgasms, you'd begun losing focus at work. Your mind frequently wanders into sexy daydreams about impossible scenarios in the war room.

At your desk, you think back to what the guy said in the breakroom about little Peña and giggle to yourself. That'd be a sight to see, and would certainly liven up a boring case briefing. Your thoughts drift, and a fantasy begins to take shape.

Agent Peña stands at the end of the conference table, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. One hand on his hip holds his charcoal suit jacket back; the other gestures behind him to the slides displaying the latest developments in his investigation. The lights are dimmed but his signature tight pants don’t leave much to the imagination. Your gaze takes him in slowly, lazily almost. Expressive eyebrows give way to deep set brown eyes. An aquiline nose slopes to meet his trademark mustache, and his lips make the perfect pout as he speaks. The broad motherfucker has a chest and shoulders for days, and his neck is almost too big for his collared shirt. When he moves his arms, the sleeves of his suit jacket are drawn tighter around his biceps. Down, down your eyes go, over the plane of his abdomen, past the unobtrusive belt buckle, and settle on the obvious bulge down the left side of his crotch. You can’t help but admire the outline of Peña’s cock; it twitches, and saliva floods your mouth as you squeeze your thighs tightly, your body responding of its own accord. Agent Peña’s timbre changes and you realize he’s said your name - you look up at him like a deer in headlights. “Like what you see?”

You hear your name again, but his mouth hasn't moved beyond a knowing smirk…

“Hel-lo?” You shake yourself out of your daydream only to realize somebody has actually been saying your name.

To your abject horror, the real Javier Peña stands next to your desk, a manila folder in his hands and a quizzical brow lifted in your direction.

“What? Yeah? What do you want?”

The questions fly out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. To further your mortification, you can feel heat blooming across your chest and face. He knows - he has to know - what is going through your head. Someone must have turned on the heat in the building, it's sweltering all of a sudden.

Peña shifts his weight onto his left leg, his right knee bent slightly. “I’m Javier Peña with the DEA -”

“I know.” Again, with the blurting.

“Right.” He works his jaw slightly. “I was told you were the one to come talk to.”

You focus on the manila folder in his hands and refuse to let your traitorous eyes dip any lower. They're just hands, for Christ’s sake. Large, strong hands.

“Yeah? About what?” Is your voice breathier than usual?

Peña fidgets with the folder, then leans over and drops it in front of you. His thumb swipes at the corner of his mouth and he places both hands on his hips. There’s an agitated tension in his stance, and he shifts from foot to foot like a horse ready to bolt.

“You’re with Customs,” he says, as though his meaning was obvious.

It's your turn to lift a brow at him.

“Yep. That I am.”

It’s easier to pull yourself together with something tangible in front of you to focus on. You flip the folder open and start leafing through its contents. There are copies of bank transactions, transcripts from what you assume are wiretaps, and surveillance photos featuring two Latino men in well tailored suits outside a storefront, one of them holding a briefcase. This was business, this was work – you could do this.

Peña clears his throat and smoothes down his mustache, the fingers of his left hand drumming on his hip. You wonder if he’s always this twitchy or if something could be making him nervous.

“My investigation is centered around these two men,” he waves a hand vaguely at the photos. “They run the stateside money laundering operations for some heavy cartel hitters, but they like to throw in some legitimate business dealings as well just to muddy the waters.”

He pauses to clear his throat.

“Uh huh…,” you prompt, looking up in time to see him tugging at his fitted collar. This was starting to get interesting. It’s obvious he came over to ask for your help with his case, but he seems to be doing everything he can to avoid saying those three little words, ‘I need help.’ What a typical man.

Leaning back in your chair with the folder and its contents in hand, you find it much easier to take in the man standing before you. It's no longer like staring into the sun, however sexy that sun may be. The Great Javier Peña, reduced to an average fed. You can’t help but be a bit disappointed.

Peña sucks in a breath like he's going to keep speaking, then wordlessly proffers his hand to ask for the folder. You pass it back into his hands and keep your expression neutral. Flipping through the photos, he finds what he's looking for and places it on your desk.

“That was taken outside an art gallery in Dallas. I think they know we’re closing in on some of their more lucrative sources of income and are trying something new.”

You look more closely at the photo in front of you and nod. “Art classes?” The second the joke leaves your mouth you cringe inwardly. Peña’s jaw twitches as his eyebrows scowl a fraction of an inch closer. Not the time or place.

“The gallery is run by a couple in their sixties, Frank and Harriet Mansford. I think they’re working with these guys to make some kind of art deal.” You gesture to the chair opposite your desk and he accepts the invitation to sit down.

“So, tell me, Agent Peña – where exactly does Customs come in? How do I fit into this picture?” Leaning forward, elbows propped on your desk, you fix Peña with what you hope is a confident stare. His fingers worry over the corner of his chair’s armrest.

“Narcos have gotten more sophisticated in their laundering operations, but this wouldn’t be the first time they’ve used art sales to clean their money.” His gaze is steady, but his fingers continue on their restless path.

“Unless they’re smuggling stolen goods into or out of the country–”

“They are,” Peña interjects. “I believe they are.” He lets out a frustrated breath. “I don’t have the evidence yet, but I’ve already been looking into this gallery. They specialize in European art – so they’re likely getting at least some of it from abroad. And an international sale would make the paper trail harder to follow.”

“As long as they’re legitimately purchasing or selling the artwork–” You hold up a calming hand as the agent makes to interrupt again. “Agent Peña, I’d like to help, but unless their crimes touch the border, it’s out of my jurisdiction.”

“I know. But that’s not the only reason I’m talking to you.” Peña takes a deep breath like he's gearing up for something and you brace yourself.

“I don’t know anything about art, ma’am.” He gives you the closest thing to a self-deprecating grin you think he’s capable of. “I’ve been trying to get the FBI’s art squad on this, but I can’t even get someone to take my calls – I don’t have an in.” He glances surreptitiously to see if anybody else is in earshot.

Your gut does an anxious flip. Please, don't let this be going where you think it’s going. He licks his lips and hesitates, avoiding your eyes.

“Word is you might know somebody in D.C.”

Your heart stutters. Shit.

Sounds like Peña isn’t the only subject of rumors around here.

---

Great, just great. You left D.C. to get away from people treating you differently because of who you choose to sleep with, but it looks like the rumors followed you all the way to fucking Texas.

You take a good, hard look at the man sitting across from you. For a moment, you seriously consider telling him he can go fuck himself. While social blackmail isn’t something you’re willing to tolerate after everything you’ve done to start fresh, you don’t want to miss your first real opportunity to get involved in a case since arriving in Texas. Javier Peña may be a god amongst mere mortals in this town – you’d learned enough about his career to know it wasn’t all bullshit – but you weren’t going to let him get away with using you for your contacts at the FBI. Well, contact – singular.

“The ‘word’ is?” You quote back at him icily. “And what word is that, Agent Peña?” Leaning back in your chair, you cock your head to the side a bit and rest your elbows on the arm rests. His mustache twitches the slightest bit at this change in your body language and tone of voice, but he doesn’t respond. You might be overplaying your hand here, but you’ll take that risk to find out how far he’s willing to go with this approach. Not wanting to be the first to break, you let the uncomfortable silence stretch.

Right when you start to think you’ve missed the mark and he’s going to walk away without another word, he nods, eyes never leaving yours. Mirroring your pose, he tents his fingers and licks his lips again. You force yourself not to look at his mouth.

“I’m not stupid,” he states. Here it comes. “I know what people say about me around here.”

Wait, what? Schooling your features, you decide to see how this plays out.

“I know you haven’t been here very long, but I’m sure you’ve heard some of the office gossip already.” He shifts in his seat and hikes his pant legs up, casually propping one ankle on a knee. You pride yourself on not looking at his crotch.

At that moment, a woman walks by your desk and gives the two of you a thorough once over. You stare her down until she meets your eyes, the smirk forming on her lips immediately dying. She scurries away and you turn back to find Peña giving you a bit of a smirk, and a certain glint appears in his eyes.

“Agent Peña–”

“Javi, please.” The balls on this guy.

“Agent,” you repeat purposefully, “I’m not sure what, if anything, you know about me.” You pause to take a steadying breath, but Peña continues in earnest.

“I know you worked with the FBI art squad on a number of cases during your time in D.C. that resulted in the arrest of several high-profile members of a forgery ring smuggling pieces into the country for sale on the black market.”

You blink. That wasn’t what you were expecting. At all.

He keeps talking. “But that was only in the last year or so. Before that, you worked your way up as a field agent and investigator at major ports of entry, developing a specialty in high-value contraband.” Peña slowly runs his palms over his thighs; the man is in perpetual motion.

As you listen to Javi rattle off various highlights and accolades that sound like they came directly from your personnel file, you notice the change in his demeanor and tone. He speaks matter-of-factly like he’s reciting a brief, but there’s a hint of something else in his tone besides simple curiosity.

“And then you landed the D.C. assignment. From what I hear, you could’ve been running that unit in a few years, but instead you took a boring ass admin job out here.” He gestures vaguely around you. This is where he’s comfortable – when he’s the one in charge, telling you what’s what.

“You’ve sure heard a lot about me, Agent Peña.” Your tone is cool and measured.

“Why?” He leans forward and braces his elbows on spread knees. His piercing eyes level with yours, pupils wide and locked in.

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why’d you leave D.C.?”

A glance out to the common area nearby confirms there’s nobody within earshot, but you still lower your voice when you say, “You already seem to know everything there is about me.” Pausing, you feel your pulse flutter in your neck. “I would think you’ve heard that part as well.”

He’s testing you. That’s how guys like him operate. They pin you down to see if you’ve got enough in you to fight back. Fighting back is what earns their respect. The smile Peña gives you is subtle, edging on mischievous.

“I’ve heard plenty on that topic,” he confirms with a gentle nod. “There are a few prevailing theories.” He counts off the rumors on his fingers and glances up to see your reactions to each.

Pissed off the wrong politician is met with an eye roll.

Moved here for a boyfriend – “...or girlfriend?” Javi checks – earns an exasperated sigh.

“You fucked your way around–” Javi stops abruptly when an indignant sound escapes your mouth. This reaction sends Javi’s eyebrows dancing.

Kicking yourself, you decide there’s only one course of action: honesty. Keeping your voice low, you lean over your desk and Javi follows until your faces are barely a foot apart. You force yourself to look directly into his eyes as you say your piece.

“I didn’t ‘fuck my way around’ anything. Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I had a consensual relationship that never once interfered with our professional conduct or the work at hand. Got it?” Javi doesn’t speak, but there’s a glint in his eyes as they roam over your stony expression, lips pursed in a contemplative pout.

“Once the rumor mill starts, it’s only a matter of time before the woman is left to deal with the consequences – not that I’d expect you to care about such things.” You practically spit the last words out before you can stop yourself.

The air stills between you. Peña nods as if to himself, then leans even closer, until you can smell his spicy cologne. “Let’s set the record straight about one thing right now, Agent.”

You swallow thickly and look anywhere but at his eyes – the long line of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the stubble on his cheek. His voice drops into a deeper register when he says, “I don’t give a shit who you choose to fuck or not – as long as it doesn’t get in the way of me getting the job done. We’re all adults here and can make our own grown-up choices.” He raises a finger, and points first to you, then himself as he speaks. “My one rule is: I don’t judge you, you don’t judge me.”

He pauses, giving you a second’s reprieve. “Are we on the same page now?”

You nod once, gritting your teeth at his condescending tone. Back in a normal register he says, “Good. Now about this investigation of mine…”

Peña retreats and gestures at the case documents underneath where your arms were folded on top of your desk. You look down, having almost forgotten his whole reason for being here in the first place.

“Agent Peña…” you start, and again, he interrupts.

“Please, I asked you to call me Javi.” The fucker winks at you – winks.

“Javi,” you grind out, playing his game. “I don’t know what you think I can do for you, unless this whole thing is to try and get me to –”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice is a rumble in his chest. “Don’t insult me like that, and don’t insult yourself.” Javi points at the desk. “I came here asking for help because you’re a damn good agent with experience in this shit. If you want to show this office that you’re not going to back down from another fight just because some dickless piss-ant is spreading rumors, this is your chance.”

You let his words sink in and hate that he’s right. You did back down from the fight in D.C., the second it got difficult. Your pride was wounded and you ran away with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. With a steadying breath, you sigh and start organizing the documents and photos.

“I’ll take a look at everything and see what I can come up with.” Peña begins to stand, and you cut in, “But I can’t promise I can get you in with the FBI.”

You haven’t spoken to Special Agent Marcus Pike since you left D.C. six months earlier. If you were honest with yourself, you missed the time you two spent together, even when you weren’t having amazing sex. Getting takeout from his favorite Thai place and watching an old movie, or reviewing case notes over pizza after hours in the war room. Marcus was the most decent guy you’d ever known, and you hadn’t even answered the few times he called to check in your first couple months in Texas. It’d serve you right if he refused to speak to you ever again, if you could swallow your pride long enough to call him up.

“I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.” Peña sticks a hand out to shake. You join him on your feet and grasp his hand firmly. Some of your confidence was returning.

“I never pegged you as the desperate type, Javi.” You hoped your smile was enough for the agent to hear your words as the playful banter you’d intended. Fortunately, he huffed a quiet laugh and nodded appreciatively, boldly letting his eyes wander over you. The heat of his gaze leaves pleasant tingles in its wake.

“I’ll swing by tomorrow to talk about next steps.”

The agent departs, and you sit back down at your desk with a long sigh. As you watch the man walk away, your reverie from earlier comes back in startling focus with new details. You think back to how commanding and gruff his voice had sounded with his face so close to yours. The scent of his cologne lingered – spicy, with a hint of citrus and something else you couldn’t identify. How his thick fingers splayed over his hip or massaged the arm of his chair as he spoke. The crease in the middle of his bottom lip when he swiped at the corner of his mouth.

Clearing your throat, you try to focus your attention on the stack of papers and photos in front of you. You couldn’t let your libido cloud your judgment now that you had a real case to sink your teeth into. You’d always prided yourself on your ability to compartmentalize, but your head was still swimming after the man had been in your cubicle for, what – ten minutes?

You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you.

***

Washington, D.C.

6 months earlier

“You don’t have to do this.” Marcus stands next to your desk as you finish packing your few personal belongings into an empty cardboard box. “I’ll talk to my guys, you don’t need –”

You still him with a hand. “Marcus, please. I’m choosing to do this; it’s a really good opportunity.” You hope he believes that.

Marcus sighs and rubs a hand over his face. After looking around to check that you and he were alone in the emptying building, Marcus leans into your space. “You’re telling me this has nothing to do with us?” His voice is deep, intimate.

He’s close enough for you to feel the warmth emanating from his body, and you catch a whiff of the aftershave that always leaves you feeling a bit heady. How is it still so strong even after a full day’s work? The frisson you experience whenever your bodies are in close proximity hasn’t diminished in the slightest, even after months of fucking on the sly.

You’d both maintained your professionalism at the office; you respect each others’ boundaries and careers too much to get sloppy in the workplace. The only thing that changed around the office since you started sleeping with Marcus was the other agents. Their eyes followed you around the office, conversations sputtered to a halt when you entered the breakroom, and snatches of whispered conversation filled your cubicle when they didn’t know you were there.

Clearing your throat, you force your eyes to meet his intense gaze. “Yes, Marcus, that’s what I’m saying.”

Marcus is a great agent, and an even greater guy. You know he’d want to stick up for you – as a fellow agent, and as a friend – but it’d only make things harder for you. Already your caseload had begun to dwindle and you were being consulted less and less often on issues squarely in your area of expertise. After several fruitless conversations with your supervisor, you weren't about to sit around and wait for your career to die – no matter how mindblowing the sex was.

The box is packed with your personal belongings and an assortment of stolen office supplies as your last petty ‘fuck you’ to the endemic sexism and double standards that plague federal law enforcement.

“Hey,” Marcus takes your hand in both of his and strokes his thumb over your pulse point as he perches a hip on the corner of your bare desk. “I can tell there’s something more to the story, and you obviously don’t want to tell me what it is so I’m not going to push…”

You roll your eyes at him teasingly and he huffs out a laugh, then pulls you closer so your hand is in his lap. He keeps stroking that sensitive part of your wrist and something in you thrums to life. “But?” You look at your joined hands. “I know there’s a but in there.”

“But – you know you can always talk to me. About whatever.” He shrugs a noncommittal shoulder and you step even closer, bracketing one of his legs between your own. His breath falters a bit as you turn one of his large hands over and graze your fingertips across his palm with a featherlight touch.

“If you ever need anything, please…” His voice drops into the register you only ever hear him use in private.

Fuck it – you’d been so careful and were still dealing with the consequences. Might as well have a little fun on your last day. You place a firm hand on Marcus’ thigh and glide it up to his hip.

“There is one thing I need right now.” You feel a bit giddy at your recklessness, but any nerves you might have are quelled when Marcus runs the tip of his nose up your jawline to your ear.

“And what’s that? Hm?” He inhales your scent and hums with pleasure. Before you can stop yourself, you shift your hand at Marcus’ hip to his crotch. When you feel how hard he already is you release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

Marcus inhales sharply through his nose at your touch, then lets out a groan in your ear at your gentle squeeze. “Tell me what you need.” His five o’clock shadow rasps against your sensitive skin as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth.

“I need you to show me that evidence locker you haven’t shut up about since we met.”

Chapter 2

NOTE: The term “war room” originally described the place military leaders discussed tactics and strategies. It’s frequently used now in federal government, law enforcement, and business settings to describe any room used to strategize and plan – it could have various technologies (computers, A/V, video-teleconferencing, etc.) or be a plain old conference/meeting space with whiteboards.

Additional Author’s Note: I'm finally forcing myself to post this fic I've been working on in an attempt to get over my fear of people reading my work. It's the first fic I've written in the Pedroverse, and quite possibly the only fic I've ever posted publicly as an adult. I would love to know what you think! I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading!

#senorabond writes #javier pena x reader #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #narcos fic #the mentalist fic #peña x f!reader x pike #rumor has it fic

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ralfmaximus · 15 days

Text

Here's the complete list of DHS flagged search terms. Don't use any of these on social media to avoid having the 3-letter agencies express interest in your activities!

DHS & Other Agencies

Department of Homeland Security (DHS)

Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA)

Coast Guard (USCG)

Customs and Border Protection (CBP)

Border Patrol

Secret Service (USSS)

National Operations Center (NOC)

Homeland Defense

Immigration Customs Enforcement (ICE)

Agent

Task Force

Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)

Fusion Center

Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA)

Secure Border Initiative (SBI)

Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI)

Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms (ATF)

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (CIS)

Federal Air Marshal Service (FAMS)

Transportation Security Administration (TSA)

Air Marshal

Federal Aviation Administration (FAA)

National Guard

Red Cross

United Nations (UN)

Domestic Security

Assassination

Attack

Domestic security

Drill

Exercise

Cops

Law enforcement

Authorities

Disaster assistance

Disaster management

DNDO (Domestic Nuclear Detection Office)

National preparedness

Mitigation

Prevention

Response

Recovery

Dirty Bomb

Domestic nuclear detection

Emergency management

Emergency response

First responder

Homeland security

Maritime domain awareness (MDA)

National preparedness initiative

Militia

Shooting

Shots fired

Evacuation

Deaths

Hostage

Explosion (explosive)

Police

Disaster medical assistance team (DMAT)

Organized crime

Gangs

National security

State of emergency

Security

Breach

Threat

Standoff

SWAT

Screening

Lockdown

Bomb (squad or threat)

Crash

Looting

Riot

Emergency Landing

Pipe bomb

Incident

Facility

HAZMAT & Nuclear

Hazmat

Nuclear

Chemical Spill

Suspicious package/device

Toxic

National laboratory

Nuclear facility

Nuclear threat

Cloud

Plume

Radiation

Radioactive

Leak

Biological infection (or event)

Chemical

Chemical burn

Biological

Epidemic

Hazardous

Hazardous material incident

Industrial spill

Infection

Powder (white)

Gas

Spillover

Anthrax

Blister agent

Exposure

Burn

Nerve agent

Ricin

Sarin

North Korea

Health Concern + H1N1

Outbreak

Contamination

Exposure

Virus

Evacuation

Bacteria

Recall

Ebola

Food Poisoning

Foot and Mouth (FMD)

H5N1

Avian

Flu

Salmonella

Small Pox

Plague

Human to human

Human to ANIMAL

Influenza

Center for Disease Control (CDC)

Drug Administration (FDA)

Public Health

Toxic

Agro Terror

Tuberculosis (TB)

Agriculture

Listeria

Symptoms

Mutation

Resistant

Antiviral

Wave

Pandemic

Infection

Water/air borne

Sick

Swine

Pork

Strain

Quarantine

H1N1

Vaccine

Tamiflu

Norvo Virus

Epidemic

World Health Organization (WHO and components)

Viral Hemorrhagic Fever

E. Coli

Infrastructure Security

Infrastructure security

Airport

CIKR (Critical Infrastructure & Key Resources)

AMTRAK

Collapse

Computer infrastructure

Communications infrastructure

Telecommunications

Critical infrastructure

National infrastructure

Metro

WMATA

Airplane (and derivatives)

Chemical fire

Subway

BART

MARTA

Port Authority

NBIC (National Biosurveillance Integration Center)

Transportation security

Grid

Power

Smart

Body scanner

Electric

Failure or outage

Black out

Brown out

Port

Dock

Bridge

Canceled

Delays

Service disruption

Power lines

Southwest Border Violence

Drug cartel

Violence

Gang

Drug

Narcotics

Cocaine

Marijuana

Heroin

Border

Mexico

Cartel

Southwest

Juarez

Sinaloa

Tijuana

Torreon

Yuma

Tucson

Decapitated

U.S. Consulate

Consular

El Paso

Fort Hancock

San Diego

Ciudad Juarez

Nogales

Sonora

Colombia

Mara salvatrucha

MS13 or MS-13

Drug war

Mexican army

Methamphetamine

Cartel de Golfo

Gulf Cartel

La Familia

Reynose

Nuevo Leon

Narcos

Narco banners (Spanish equivalents)

Los Zetas

Shootout

Execution

Gunfight

Trafficking

Kidnap

Calderon

Reyosa

Bust

Tamaulipas

Meth Lab

Drug trade

Illegal immigrants

Smuggling (smugglers)

Matamoros

Michoacana

Guzman

Arellano-Felix

Beltran-Leyva

Barrio Azteca

Artistics Assassins

Mexicles

New Federation

Terrorism

Al Queda (all spellings)

Terror

Attack

Iraq

Afghanistan

Iran

Pakistan

Agro

Environmental terrorist

Eco terrorism

Conventional weapon

Target

Weapons grade

Dirty bomb

Enriched

Nuclear

Chemical weapon

Biological weapon

Ammonium nitrate

Improvised explosive device

IED (Improvised Explosive Device)

Abu Sayyaf

Hamas

FARC (Armed Revolutionary Forces Colombia)

IRA (Irish Republican Army)

ETA (Euskadi ta Askatasuna)

Basque Separatists

Hezbollah

Tamil Tiger

PLF (Palestine Liberation Front)

PLO (Palestine Libration Organization)

Car bomb

Jihad

Taliban

Weapons cache

Suicide bomber

Suicide attack

Suspicious substance

AQAP (Al Qaeda Arabian Peninsula)

AQIM (Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb)

TTP (Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan)

Yemen

Pirates

Extremism

Somalia

Nigeria

Radicals

Al-Shabaab

Home grown

Plot

Nationalist

Recruitment

Fundamentalism

Islamist

Weather/Disaster/Emergency

Emergency

Hurricane

Tornado

Twister

Tsunami

Earthquake

Tremor

Flood

Storm

Crest

Temblor

Extreme weather

Forest fire

Brush fire

Ice

Stranded/Stuck

Help

Hail

Wildfire

Tsunami Warning Center

Magnitude

Avalanche

Typhoon

Shelter-in-place

Disaster

Snow

Blizzard

Sleet

Mud slide or Mudslide

Erosion

Power outage

Brown out

Warning

Watch

Lightening

Aid

Relief

Closure

Interstate

Burst

Emergency Broadcast System

Cyber Security

Cyber security

Botnet

DDOS (dedicated denial of service)

Denial of service

Malware

Virus

Trojan

Keylogger

Cyber Command

2600

Spammer

Phishing

Rootkit

Phreaking

Cain and abel

Brute forcing

Mysql injection

Cyber attack

Cyber terror

Hacker

China

Conficker

Worm

Scammers

Social media

SOCIAL MEDIA?!

#dhs #privacy #paranoia #security

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