by Brian Cain
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE
Thursday the fifteenth of April, nineteen ninety-nine, ten fifty-five am. The X25 had Woomera town site visual contact. Scott Pearson spoke to Jason and Harry via the radio intercom.
“Sir, I have visual on our destination, request landing instructions.”
Harry responded to the scratchy statement. “Coming in from this direction, turn four o’clock directly over the town. Stay on that heading for about twenty kilometres; you should be following a long straight bitumen road. When you cross a fence in the road, I want you to land on the road, directly the other side of the fence. You will have about five thousand metres to pull up in a car park at the end of the road. Do you think you can do that?”
Scott replied, “Sir, I have to maintain a speed well above the sound barrier to stay in the air in this thing. At this altitude we will take out all the windows in the town, that’s a pretty big insurance claim sir.”
Jason and Harry looked wide-eyed at each other. “Under the circumstances, I think that’s the least of our worries,” said Jason.
“Sorry sirs, before I was a pilot in the Marine Corps, I studied law at Michigan State University. I’m a lawyer as well as a pilot, just thought I’d mention it. That’s a pretty big claim against the state; when you’re a lawyer you worry about things like that.”
Harry and Jason looked uneasy. “I’m an engineer and I build things, I will have a big job ahead of me if you don’t get us on the ground soon as. Let’s just fly planes at the moment Scott. I’m sure you’re a very good lawyer, but we need a crack pilot at the present time,” requested Harry.
“Roger sir, banking to the right four o’clock over town site,” said Scott. People in the streets scurried for cover as the plane streaked overhead a few hundred metres above in silence, followed by a shattering thud some seconds later. “I have visual on the roadway, undercarriage locked down. I have visual on the fence, putting her down now sir.” The undercarriage was too wide for the bitumen roadway and whipped up clouds of dust as it contacted the roadway shoulders. The nose wheel touched down on the roadway’s white line. “You are home sir. Ejecting parachutes, standby for heavy stopping manoeuvres.”
Beagle stood at the entrance to the bunker lift, watching the sleek jet thunder towards him. The plane’s engines whirled to a murmur as it pulled up in front of him; the cockpits opened and Scott, Harry and Jason scrambled across the wing and jumped to the ground. They ran up to Beagle.
“What an absolutely magnificent plane; where did you get it?” asked Beagle.
Briggs spoke through his teeth. “Beagle, we have all been stuck in that thing for eight hours, we need to get to the toilet, we are all bursting. Then we want to see the status of World War Three, preferably in that order.”
Beagle cleaned his glasses as they watched the lift door close. “Well it is a nice plane, the black background and the blue American Air Force star on the side; it’s so dominating.”
Scott spoke to Jason as the lift descended, “Does this man work for you sir?”
“Yes, this is Beagle. He’s a brilliant mathematician,” replied Jason.
“Thank God for that sir, I was worried that he was the janitor in the latrine, as that’s my present heading,” replied Scott.
Scott watched the screens as the status of Armageddon was shown to them. He was preparing to return the X25 to its home; he had eaten and showered. Whilst checking his flight suit, he heard a familiar name mentioned during the course of conversation.
“ADAM’s working at the moment,” said Harry. “Whoever is controlling the world’s military might has backed off. The world’s combined forces have lost over fifty squadrons of fully armed fighter planes, all immobilised by ADAM. Unfortunately a few pilots have been lost ejecting. ADAM is still making things difficult for the nuclear submarine fleets as well. Whenever a sub goes to launch depth and opens its missile tubes, ADAM has been whipping up turbulence in the water with its lasers above the sub. The subs are forced to disengage. Some land forces have engaged each other, but it seems to be in areas that were already at war; they are not strategic to a global conflict. We don’t know what will happen when the first of Seadragon’s subs are within range of their targets. Seadragon seems very similar to ADAM control-wise. I have asked ADAM to see if it can gain control of Seadragon through our satellites; it’s working on it now. Something is worrying me; ADAM’s neuron computer is starting to do things itself, things it should await instruction on. Luckily it’s making all the right decisions, but this is something we will have to look into soon.”
“Here’s the report you asked for on Baden Steel, Jason,” said Beagle handing Jason a document. “He is commander of all Russian military forces.”
Scott interrupted. “Hey, I met that guy a few months ago; he visited the Seadragon complex. Man that guy is huge.”
Jason studied the report. Baden Steel, Russian born to Polish diplomatic parents. Educated, Oxford University, progressed to military college in Moscow. Moved quickly through military ranks, seeing front line action in all Russian trouble spots. Made five star general in eighty-five and commander all Russian forces in ninety. Order from FBI to investigate collaboration with unknown American military personnel in ninety-four dismissed by Ridge Mortimer. Jason looked at his birth date. Tenth of January, sixty-two. The main clue, the birth date, didn’t match. He still felt inside he had the right man. “You actually saw this man Scott?”
“Yes sir, shook his hand. Nearly crushed mine while I was doing it.”
“What is the Russian military commander doing looking around a top secret American installation?” asked Jason.
“I figure we were trying to scare them with what we have sir,” replied Scott.
“Scott,” said Jason. “I feel you were sent here for a reason; I’m going to ask the President to leave you with us for a while. I feel we will need you for some reason.”
“No problem sir, I’m real keen to be of whatever assistance I can.”
“Beagle,” asked Jason. “What is happening to our families while this is going on?”
“Most major cities throughout the world are undergoing evacuation, only the sick, those unable to travel, families with nuclear shelters and volunteers are remaining behind. Some evacuation is taking place in Australia, but most people believe in ADAM and are staying put. Anita and Tammy are at home; they’re fine.”
Briggs interrupted, “We have a big problem; a Seadragon autonomous sub has reached launch position six hours ahead of schedule. It’s one hundred kilometres off Wilmington on the American coast. Its targets are Washington and New York.”
“Seadragon’s subs are really fast,” whispered Scott. “My parents live in Washington.”
The air in the bunker became silent and tense. “ADAM has confirmed launch, twenty land-bound missiles, ADAM is responding,” added Briggs. They waited a few seconds that seemed like minutes. “All missiles destroyed when leaving the waters surface.”
Scott wiped sweat from his brow and gave a sigh.
Briggs continued, “We have a nuclear detonation of a missile on destruction. ADAM confirms the A10 pod is unaffected; the sub has been destroyed in the blast. A tidal wave of unknown proportions is heading for the coast. ADAM is informing the affected authorities, they don’t have much time before it hits, let’s hope they can do something to let the people in its path know. It’s hard to prepare for something no one’s seen before.” Briggs looked at Jason with concern. “Jason, ADAM is operating without instruction, it’s thinking for itself. The neuron computer is forming response intelligence.”
Baden Steel thumped the table in the control room of the Six-Sided Circle. “Disengage all offensives, we are losing too much of what we have in our grasp to this weapon. If Seadragon is unable to strike we have to change tactics. We have lost all Inter Ballistic Missiles, over two hundred aircraft. Most surface forces lie dead in its wake drained of power, all this with little if any suffering to mankind. We have been forced to strike when the tim
e has no real meaning.” Steel stood at the table. “I need this ADAM weapon, with it I can crush all that is good, the suffering would be never-ending. I will have to use the power of the dark side in the Triangle; a dangerous but tactical move I feel.” Steel used his piercing gaze on the now-exposed faces before him. “The circle has been broken. I warned you all, you fail me now and you will perish. Shut down the cloaking device on the Island.”
A refined English voice objected, “That’s lunacy Baden, ADAM will find and destroy us.”
Steel raised his growling voice. “Shut up number three you imbecile! I will show you why when it gets here in a few seconds; the power of the dark side.”
Briggs stood up at his monitor station. “ADAM has the location of the pirate signals. The cloaking device has failed, ADAM is responding ... Something’s wrong, two A10 pods have come to a stop exactly two thousand metres from the source, ADAM is unable to manoeuvre them and has put them on standby. The magnetic field in the Bermuda Triangle is unstable; ADAM can’t work out which way is north.”
Steel studied the A10 pods through the powerful binoculars in his hands, from the edge of the floating island just outside the underwater access elevator to the complex below them. He thrust the binoculars into the chest of the French general beside him.
“Pass these along number four; feast your eyes on our new weapon. While these things sit so close to us, no weapon will be able to be directed at us due to their interference. Yet they are that far away that we can still send radio signals to our satellites to break the code of its computers. Come, time is important. The power of the dark side in the Triangle will not be with us forever.”
Briggs made a further announcement in the bunker, “Bingo, with this shield down from the pirate source, ADAM has busted the code on Seadragon and we have control. We also have a pinpoint on the radio transmissions, twenty-seven degrees latitude north by seventy-one degrees longitude west. That’s slap bang in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.”
Steel and his friends mapped progress beneath the island, “Baden, ADAM has gained control of Seadragon, it has directed a unit to engage us and its ETA is only five hours. We will be under fire from our own forces,” said the refined English voice of number three.
“Have you listened to nothing I have said number three,” barked Steel. “We have already experienced the power of ADAM against all we have; the key to our destiny lies in the control of ADAM. Now direct all our resources at breaking its frequencies and code to gain control. The A10 Pods near us will protect us from all modern weapons controlled by our enemies; no modern weapon can operate without electro magnetic assistance. ADAM’s defence pods will interfere with all weapon systems rendering them harmless, including Seadragon. The dark side is ensuring that we are safe. Now get us control of ADAM.”
Harry unwillingly explained a new twist in the situation, “During the past two minutes, the pirate source has directed the full might of all military tracking stations and computers to find and bust the code of ADAM to gain control.”
“Is that possible?” asked Jason.
Harry looked at Beagle. “It’s a long shot,” said Beagle. “But if they find ADAM’s frequencies and can transmit on them, mathematically it would be possible with the computer power they have on hand to break ADAM’s code.” Beagle made some calculations on the computer in front of him. “I’ve made a calculation on what I know of the world’s military computing power as one against running every possible code once they break into ADAM’s frequencies. I have come up with two hours. ADAM changes its code every twenty-four hours; I calculate the enemy’s strategy is possible.”
“So we need something to knock that island out within two hours or risk losing all?” said Jason.
“I would say that was a sensible scenario, considering we don’t know how long the electro magnetic instability will remain in the Bermuda Triangle rendering ADAM useless in the only spot we really need it at present,” added Beagle.
Jason held his face in his hands and was stricken with a vision of something within the triangle that could help. He dropped his hands from his face. “Wait, I know there’s something in the Triangle that can help, I can feel it, we must find it.”
“There are some American naval strike vessels close to the Triangle but they remain under control of the pirate source; Seadragon is still four hours from the enemy.”
“No,” replied Jason. “I have been shown the key; something has been overlooked by everyone and sits out there waiting for us. Find it Harry.”
Harry asked ADAM: Status: Bermuda Triangle, Military units in our control. A green light appeared on the monitoring board, just south of the centre of the Bermuda Triangle, information appeared on the screen. Iowa class battleship, the Wisconsin, training personnel, listed as non-operational unit in times of war.
Scott spoke up as soon as he read the information. “Hey man! The Wisconsin. I spent three months training on that tub, learnt the basics of conventional naval engagement on her.”
“What is it exactly?” asked Jason.
“She’s an Iowa class battleship built post Second World War sir. Fifty-seven thousand five hundred and forty tons, she’s a monster sir. She would be carrying about one thousand five hundred crew, mostly young trainees from Portsmouth, Charleston and Key West,” said Scott.
“So she carries no weapons, just trains recruits?” asked Jason.
“No sir,” replied Scott. “She carries nine sixteen inch conventional cannons sir, the most powerful conventional weapons still existing on the planet. They don’t need any laser guidance or electro magnetic tracking, just someone who knows how to point them in the right direction and pull the trigger. She’s fast as well sir, thirty-five knots. I can’t believe you knew she was there sir.”
“You didn’t just come here Scott, you were sent to us, I thank the power that sent you here,” said Jason. He turned to Harry at the control desk. “Get the President of The United States on ADAM’s communication system. Evil is about to suffer a dose of lead poisoning.”
Quinn Packard was in a crisis meeting with his military chiefs of staff when ADAM’s phone buzzed against his chest in his inside pocket, he removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes then realised what it was and answered immediately. “Excuse me gentlemen, Hello, Quinn Packard speaking,” he said as he answered the call.
“Quinn this is Jason, are you aware of the present situation regarding our enemy?”
“Yes, your defence system ADAM is keeping us all well informed. Is this call in regard to the present stalemate?”
“Yes,” replied Jason. “ADAM tells us you have a battleship used for training purposes in the Triangle, the Wisconsin, Scott Pearson tells us it carries conventional weapons capable of destroying our foe. It seems this vessel has been overlooked by the enemy, can you confirm this?”
“Just hang on a second Jason, I’ll see what I can find out,” he took the phone from his ear leaving the mouthpiece to monitor the conversation, he spoke to the Naval Chief of staff who was present at the meeting. “Would I be right in saying the USS Wisconsin is in the Triangle and under our control?”
Admiral Peters, Naval Chief of staff answered. “Yes sir, she was on a routine training run off the Bahamas when all this blew up; she’s dead in the water at the moment and maintaining radio silence. She has over a thousand trainees aboard and some of our best training staff sir.”
“I want you to order into action, her target is whatever is housing the transmission equipment responsible for all this at the co-ordinates given to us by ADAM. Her conventional weapons could be the only effective strike weapon in the middle of all this shit.”
Admiral Peters stood up. “Begging your pardon sir, but the Wisconsin is a floating museum and her navigational equipment is useless in the Triangle’s electro magnetic disturbance being experienced at present. It’s a lot of young men to put in harm’s way sir.”
“Who is on her bridge at the moment Peters?” asked Quinn.
Quinn stood up in amazement, “Admiral Rice, he was sixty-five years old last time I saw him and that must have been ten years ago.”
“That’s also correct sir,” said Peters.
“What’s he doing on the bridge of the Wisconsin at that age Peters?”
“He’s a hard man to tie down sir and begging sir’s pardon, no one knows the Wisconsin like Admiral Rice sir. He was part of her line of command for ten years sir. If any one can take her into action with no navigation and place her guns on target by feel, I would put my money on Rice sir.”
“Very well, is there a way we can order into action, very discreetly?” asked Quinn.
“We could send her full orders by Morse code out of Key West on her crystal frequencies, it’s our best shot,” replied Peters.
Quinn sat down and took a deep breath. “Very well, give her orders to engage whatever she finds; we can’t help her with target identification.”
Admiral Peters hastily left the room.
Quinn put the phone back to his ear, “Did you get all that Jason?”
“Yes Quinn.”
“All we can do is wait,” finished Quinn.
