24: Los Angeles – 7:00 PM to 8:00 PM, June 7, 2025
7:00:00 PM – Los Angeles, Downtown
The clock ticks, a digital heartbeat. Los Angeles is a furnace, and the streets are kindling. Mike Vance, ex-State Department cyber-warrior, sits in a beat-up Ford Bronco parked on Alameda Street, eyes locked on the chaos outside the Metropolitan Detention Center. Protesters—hundreds, maybe a thousand—swarm like hornets, chanting ICE out of LA! A car burns on Atlantic Boulevard, black smoke curling like a demon’s tail. Mexican flags wave, defiant. Flash-bangs pop, and tear gas clouds choke the sunset. Vance’s laptop glows on the passenger seat, open to a dark-web forum where whispers of NED funding fuel his suspicions. These aren’t just angry locals. This is orchestrated.
Vance, 38, lean and wired, chews a toothpick, his mind racing.
He’s been tracking the National Endowment for Democracy for years, ever since he saw their fingerprints on foreign riots—Ukraine, Bangladesh, now here. His X posts have been screaming it: NED’s a CIA cut-out, funneling cash to agitators, and Mayor Karen Bass, ex-NED board member, is the puppet master. Governor Gavin Newsom’s no better, sitting on his hands while LA burns, forcing Trump’s National Guard to clean up the mess. Vance’s phone buzzes—an encrypted message from a source inside DHS: NED grants to CHIRLA confirmed. $450K federal, millions more from dark pools. Check Bass’s emails.
7:04:32 PM – Mayor’s Office, City Hall
Karen Bass sits at her desk, face lit by a laptop screen, her calm a mask. Outside, sirens wail, and protesters chant, their voices a dull roar through bulletproof glass. Her aide, Jamal, paces, sweating. “Madam Mayor, the LAPD’s overwhelmed. They’re begging for backup, but Newsom’s stalling. And Trump’s tweeting about ‘rioters and looters’ again.” Bass doesn’t flinch. “Let Trump play his games,” she says, voice low. “We don’t need his troops. This city handles its own.” But her eyes flick to her phone, a burner, where a text from an unknown number reads: Grants cleared. PSL on the ground. Keep it organic. She deletes it, her face unreadable.
Bass knows the optics. She’s the progressive mayor, the ex-community organizer who fought for South LA. But six years on NED’s board taught her how to play dirty—how to funnel money to “grassroots” groups like CHIRLA, how to make riots look spontaneous. She’s not starting fires, but she’s not putting them out either. Let the feds overreach, let Trump send his soldiers. It’ll only fan the flames, and she’ll come out the martyr.
7:09:17 PM – Governor’s Mansion, Sacramento
Gavin Newsom lounges in a leather chair, sipping kombucha, watching CNN on mute. The screen shows Compton in chaos: protesters hurling Molotovs, a Waymo taxi burning, National Guard troops rolling in. His chief of staff, Maria, bursts in. “Sir, Trump’s activated 2,000 Guard troops under Title 10. He’s bypassing you. Hegseth’s threatening Marines next.” Newsom smirks, slick as ever. “Let him. It’s a spectacle. He wants a fight, not a solution.” Maria’s eyes narrow. “Sir, the LAPD’s reporting assaults on officers. This isn’t just protests. It’s coordinated.”
Newsom waves her off. He’s no fool—he knows CHIRLA’s got funding, knows Bass’s history with NED. He’s seen the same dark-web chatter Vance has, linking Sacramento grants to protest organizers. But he’s playing the long game. Let LA burn a little, let Trump overplay his hand. The backlash will bury the feds, and Newsom will ride the wave to 2028. “Tell the CHP to stand down,” he says. “No escalation. Let the people speak.”
7:14:45 PM – Vance’s Bronco, Downtown LA
Vance’s fingers fly across his laptop, hacking into a shadow server he’s been monitoring for weeks. Leaked emails load—Bass to Angelica Salas, CHIRLA’s head, dated last month: Expect $2M from state, $450K federal via NED. Keep it quiet. PSL will handle the streets. Vance’s blood boils. The Party for Socialism and Liberation, a communist front, is out there now, handing out signs, lighting fires. He screenshots the email, uploads it to X: Proof: Bass and NED are bankrolling LA’s riots. Wake up, America. His post hits 10,000 views in minutes.
A rock smashes his windshield. Vance ducks, heart pounding. Protesters are closing in, faces masked, eyes wild. A kid with a bandana lobs a bottle, and it explodes against a National Guard Humvee. The soldiers, green uniforms stark against the smoke, form a line, rifles ready. Vance grabs his phone, dials his DHS contact, codename “Patriot.” “It’s me,” he hisses. “Bass is dirty. NED’s paying for this circus. I need Trump to know.” Patriot’s voice crackles: “He knows. Guard’s here. Homan’s on Fox right now, promising arrests. Stay low, Mike.”
7:19:22 PM – Metropolitan Detention Center
The air’s thick with tear gas, and the crowd’s a beast, roaring, unbreakable. Ron Gochez, 44, megaphone in hand, screams, “They can’t kidnap our people!” He’s PSL, a street general, and Vance knows he’s on NED’s payroll, indirectly or not. A Mexican flag waves beside him, and a Waymo taxi burns, its horn blaring like a dying animal. National Guard troops push forward, shields up, as LAPD officers kettle protesters into a side street. A woman, blood streaming from her forehead, collapses. Vance watches, torn—part of him wants to help, part of him knows she’s collateral in a bigger war.
His phone buzzes again: Patriot. “Homan’s got orders from Trump. They’re rounding up PSL leaders. Check the dark pool—Singham’s name’s on it.” Neville Singham, socialist billionaire, China’s favorite financier. Vance’s gut twists. He’s been tracking Singham’s money for years, funneling through NGOs like CHIRLA, turning protests into weapons. He pulls up a encrypted file: Singham to NED, $10M in 2024, laundered through offshore accounts. It’s enough to buy a riot.
7:24:50 PM – Mayor’s Office
Bass’s burner phone buzzes again. Another text: Guard’s here. Pull back or we’re exposed. She slams it down, jaw tight. Jamal bursts in. “Madam Mayor, the Guard’s kettling protesters on Alameda. Newsom’s not answering. Trump’s on Truth Social, calling you a failure.” Bass’s eyes flash. “He wants chaos? He’ll get it.” She knows the play—Trump’s baiting her, forcing her to act or look weak. But she’s been here before, NED boardroom, planning “spontaneous” uprisings in far-off countries. She dials Salas at CHIRLA. “Angelica, keep the crowd hot, but no martyrs. We need sympathy, not bodies.”
Outside, the chants grow louder, punctuated by flash-bangs. Bass glances at a photo on her desk—her, smiling, at an NED gala in 2016. She was good at this game once. Now it’s her city, her streets, and she’s not sure who’s playing who.
7:30:11 PM – Sacramento, Governor’s Mansion
Newsom’s on a secure line with his legal team, voice smooth as silk. “File the suit. Trump’s deployment is unlawful. No governor’s consent, no dice.” Maria interrupts. “Sir, the CHP’s reporting Molotovs in Compton. They’re begging for orders.” Newsom leans back, calculating. “Tell them to monitor, not engage. Let Trump’s troops take the heat.” He knows the optics—National Guard firing on protesters, Mexican flags flying, blood on the pavement. It’s a PR disaster for Trump, a gift for Newsom’s presidential run.
His laptop pings—an X post trending with 50,000 views: Newsom’s letting LA burn to spite Trump. NED’s cash behind it. Check the grants. Newsom curses under his breath. Vance is a problem, a nobody with too much truth. He texts his fixer: Find out who’s leaking to Vance. Shut it down.
7:36:28 PM – Paramount, Alondra Boulevard
Vance ditches the Bronco, moving on foot through Paramount’s chaos. Shopping carts block the street, a barricade of twisted metal. A car burns, and protesters dance around it, shadows in the firelight. A kid, maybe 16, throws a firework at a sheriff’s deputy. It explodes, blue and red, and the deputy fires a rubber bullet, dropping the kid. Vance ducks behind a dumpster, heart racing. He’s not a hero, just a guy with a laptop and a grudge. But he’s close—close to proving NED’s running this show.
His phone vibrates: Patriot again. “Mike, Homan’s got a list. Gochez, Salas, three others. They’re tied to PSL, funded through CHIRLA. Arrests in 20 minutes. Get out of there.” Vance glances at the crowd. A woman with a Mexican flag screams at a Guard soldier, who shoves her back. The crowd surges, and Vance knows it’s about to pop off. He snaps a photo of CHIRLA’s logo on a protester’s sign, uploads it to X: NED’s puppets in plain sight. Defund them now.
7:42:03 PM – White House, Situation Room
President Trump paces, face red, aides scrambling. Tom Homan, border czar, briefs him. “Sir, we’ve got 300 Guard troops in LA, 1,700 more en route. DHS confirms 118 arrests, five gang members. But it’s organized—CHIRLA, PSL, maybe foreign money.” Trump slams a fist on the table. “Bass and Newsom are letting this happen! They’re traitors!” He grabs his phone, posts to Truth Social: Radical Left riots in LA, backed by failing Mayor Bass and Sleepy Gavin. National Guard will CRUSH this. America First!
Stephen Miller, eyes like a hawk, leans in. “Sir, we’ve got chatter. NED’s involved, maybe Singham. Vance is on it.” Trump nods. “Cut their funding. All of it. Musk’s DOGE team better move fast.” Outside, the clock ticks, and Los Angeles bleeds.
7:48:19 PM – Downtown, Alameda Street
Vance is running now, weaving through protesters as the National Guard tightens the kettle. Tear gas stings his eyes, and he coughs, tasting metal. A helicopter circles, LAPD’s voice booming: Disperse or be arrested. Nobody listens. A Molotov arcs, explodes against a Guard truck. Vance’s phone buzzes—Patriot: Arrests starting. Gochez is down. Get to safety. He ducks into an alley, heart pounding, and checks his laptop. Another email, hacked from CHIRLA’s server: Singham to Salas, $5M for “LA operation.” NED’s the middleman.
He posts it, 80,000 views in seconds. The crowd’s screaming now, and Vance knows he’s out of time. He sprints toward his Bronco, dodging a rubber bullet that grazes his arm. Blood trickles, but he keeps moving. Bass and Newsom think they’re untouchable, playing the victim while NED’s cash lights the fuse. Trump’s the only one with the guts to act, Vance thinks, but it’s a dirty war, and nobody’s clean.
7:55:44 PM – Mayor’s Office
Bass watches the news, face stone. CNN shows the Guard clashing, protesters bloodied, Waymo taxis burning. Her burner buzzes: Pull back now. Exposure imminent. She smashes it with a paperweight, glass cracking. Jamal’s voice shakes. “Madam Mayor, they’re arresting PSL leaders. Your name’s on X, tied to NED.” Bass doesn’t answer. She’s played this game before, but the board’s shifting. Trump’s troops are here, and Newsom’s hung her out to dry. She grabs her coat. “Get me to City Hall. We go live in 10.”
7:59:59 PM – Paramount
Vance reaches his Bronco, engine roaring to life. The clock ticks, relentless. On X, his post hits 100,000 views: NED’s burning LA. Bass and Newsom are complicit. Trump’s fighting for us. Sirens wail, and the National Guard advances, a wall of green. Los Angeles is a powder keg, and Vance knows the truth is the only match left. The clock hits 8:00 PM, and the city holds its breath.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
