Temporary Refuge

I am told this place is safe. It is a brightly lit warren of books, in which I occasionally see weird people, but they seem harmless. All the turns fill me with dread, and I see assailants popping out from behind them. I am glad this place is only temporary. 

Near every suddenly looming window, I have to duck, which digs my chin into my AK-47. Weirdly, I see a 4-year-old toddling around, with a really stupid grin on his face. I try to be nice to him, but he just follows me and smiles dumbly. "Hey kid, want some kitty treats?"  I ask, but he crawls away. If he really knew what was really going on in this country, he would die from fright. I pat him on the shoulder, and leave him to stumble his way through the world.

Now that I now it is safe, I send out my patrol bots, for advance warning. You never know when an M1 Abrams will trash your safe house. And now, to work.

If you agree with Trevor, than why don't you believe in the Illuminati?