Code-5 (Adventures of a Baby Boomer Book 1)

by Thomas Shaw

  First edition printing October, 2012

  Second edition printing May, 2015

  © Copyright 2012 by Thomas Shaw

  ISBN-13: 978-0692447314 (Sniper Publications)

  ISBN-10: 0692447318

  Printed in the United States of America

  Cover designed by Pat Theriault

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and author of this book.

  Publisher’s note;

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only an authorized electronic edition, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s hard work and effort to bring you this book is greatly appreciated.

  “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end.

  But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.

  Winston Churchill, 1941

  Special thanks to Carol Field (may God rest her soul) and Elizabeth Wilson for all the hours they spent so this book wouldn’t look like it was written by a 5th grader.

  Foreword;

  On (911) September the 11th, 2001 I was standing in my living room in Martinez, California watching the TV. In the moments that followed, my life and the lives of millions of “TRUE” Americans would be changed forever. After recovering somewhat from the shock of seeing a commercial airliner crash through the second twin tower I felt two immediate primal urges. One was to give blood as soon as I could and the other one was the urge to squeeze the life out of a terrorist with my bare hands. Since I’m a Baby Boomer my fighting days are behind me so I decided to turn my years of experience into describing ways that would help us recover from the financial hardships brought on by these radical idiots we call terrorists. I also realized that I could devise ways to kill as many of them as possible, even though it will be at the hands of a computer keyboard.

  The story you are about to read is true, the names have been changed to protect certain individuals from government intervention.

  The year is 2016… and two years earlier the state sponsored terrorist elements in Iran unleashed a blistering nuclear attack on Israel and its surrounding neighbors. The nuclear holocaust that ensued obliterated the oil supplies that fueled most of the world. The impending disaster caused runaway inflation that swept through every country causing chaos and panic beyond anything ever seen.

  The President of the United States was faced with a problem beyond comprehension and had nowhere to turn… except maybe one place.

  The story about Code-5 had been swept into the hidden files along with the real events that happened at Roswell and other government secrets... until now. Code-5 is about what happens when terrorism is left unchecked by the United States and the economic chaos it creates. It also involves two kids just out of college who inadvertently get swept up into an adventure that tests their innocents against some of the most vicious terrorists in the world. Tom is the character who has just graduated from Oklahoma State University but when his dad (who works on ultra-classified projects at Livermore labs) is a no-show for his graduation; it initiates a search that will take them into a black ops mission they aren’t even aware of. This story will twist and turn through high tech computer systems to incredible innovations out of Area 51.

  Iran has just started a nuclear war against Israel and all its surrounding Arab neighbors which plunges the entire world into an economic collapse and it’s up to the new President of the United States to stop the chaos. This story spans across the United States, to Mexico, then to Australia and deep into the Mideast. The trauma of these events push Tom ever deeper into a “dark-side” that he never knew was there.

  This story would still be collecting dust if it were not for Tom and Julie who accidently found a memory chip that would change their lives forever and unknowingly end up pitting them against the most vicious terrorists in the world.

  Code-5 part 1

  **** Introduction…

  The aging steel door ground noisily on its rusty track as Dr. Goodman pushed his weight against the oversized handle. With the door opened a few inches he could see the dimly lit parking lot, forty yards away. The spring shower that had begun a few hours earlier was turning into a torrential downpour. Goodman stood silently staring at the empty parking lot though his gaze was not focused on anything. His thoughts wandered back to California a couple weeks earlier when he received that first phone call. A lightning flash lit up the night, it was so close he could smell the ozone; it also snapped his attention back to the moment at hand. He quickly looked at his watch… eleven o’clock straight up. If the cab didn’t show up soon he would miss his flight and he was anxious to leave but just then the lights of the cab were becoming visible through the driving rain. Using both hands, Don put his weight against the door once again. The door screeched and complained from years of abuse. This aging ice plant had been his home for the past couple of weeks but he felt no remorse in leaving. The rain was blowing through the opened space in sheets. Pulling his hat low and the collar on his London Fog up as tight as he could, Don grabbed his travel kit and laptop as he stepped through the door. The wind and rain whipped at his face as he thought for a second about closing the door. Screw it, he thought, I don’t owe this place anything.

  Taking steps like a kid playing in a mud puddle, Don splashed his way to the waiting cab. Throwing his gear ahead of him, he slid into the back seat, slamming the door behind him.

  “Dulles International… It’s going to be close,” were the only words he would say.

  In the silence that followed, once again his thoughts drifted back to the moment of that fateful phone call. The rhythmic slapping of the windshield wipers and the occasional click of the taximeter slowly brought Don back to the present.

  Dulles was crowded, even at this late hour. The rates on the “red eye” were as cheap as it gets, and they were still ridiculous.

  Don decided on curbside check-in. The rain was encouraging most travelers to hurry inside and he didn’t feel like being around a bunch of strangers right now.

  Don looked at his ticket as he waited for the porter to ask him the soul searching question, “Are you bringing a bomb on this flight?”

  He grimaced at the thought of flying coach but it was necessary for security reasons. Being one of the top scientists in his field and working on classified projects, he was not used to second class airfare. In fact the only clue that he was with the government was the absence of taxes on the ticket which would soon create a problem.

  “One bag checked to SFO and you’re all set,” said the porter with his commercial grin.

  Don put $5 in his hand but the porter never responded. He knew the tip was low but with this recent craziness what would be appropriate… $20… $50. The one-way ticket from D.C. to San Francisco had cost just under $2,000.00. The world was going crazy and he knew it… because he was a part of it. Crazy was definitely the right word.

  The rain was still coming down in buckets as the huge elevator bus arrived on the tarmac at Delta’s flight 2410 to SFO. Don stepped onto the plane and was about to present his boarding pass when the flight attendant announced, “Open seating.”

  The Air Bus had plenty of empty seats which suited him just fine… the less contact he had with the human race, the better he liked it.

>   Seat 36A looked good. Don made a quick scan to confirm that there weren’t any new moms with screaming kids close by. This was his lucky night. As he leaned back in his seat he thought about the “Ice Plant” and the mixed feelings he had about the “Project.”

  As the big jet leveled off at their final altitude and the cabin lights dimmed, Don pulled his laptop computer from under the seat and set it on the dining tray. Most of the passengers had pulled the window shades down and wrapped up in their Delta blankets for the long ride to the West Coast.

  From outside the plane, window 36A was glowing green from the laptop’s screen.

  Don opened a new file in Microsoft-Word and started to type.

  April 1, 2016

  My name is Donald Goodman, PhD, and I am a research scientist at Lawrence Livermore Labs in the field of Computerized Behavioral Modification. This is a top secret program that has the capability to train selected combatants with the skills necessary to carry out very complex military assignments in an extremely short amount of time. The current use for this program is to give our counter-terrorist groups an honest advantage. The story I’m about to tell is TRUE and simply typing these words into my computer could cost me my life, but I feel compelled to document the events that led up to this point in time…

  The plane headed west into the inky blackness as the static lighting put on a spectacular display thousands of feet below.

  May 9th, 2016 – Stillwater, Oklahoma

  Tom and Julie are friends and lovers and have been roommates for the past two years while attending Oklahoma State University. Tom Goodman has just graduated with a Master’s Degree in Computer Science and was anxious to continue his education while Julie Broulette, his soon to be fiancée, has just earned a degree in Social Science.

  Tom tossed the two carry-on size suitcases in the back of his aging ‘Vette’ ending the packing requirement for their trip.

  “I’m worried about my Dad and I just can’t shake it,” Tom said as he closed the hatch type rear window on his 2003 Corvette coupe.

  “You don’t talk about him much; I didn’t realize you were that concerned,” Julie replied, as she maneuvered her way into the car and clicked her seat belt closed.

  “It’s not like we’re close but I haven’t heard from him in over six months, which is not unusual, but to miss my graduation… something’s wrong.”

  “So now we are going to drive over 1,500 miles to see why your dad doesn’t answer his phone. It seems like there should be a better way to do this,” Julie said, as she pulled her ponytail through her baseball cap and opened Oprah’s newest book of the month.

  Oh-well… so much for any meaningful conversation, Tom thought as he slid into his leather seat. The bottom line was that he loved the thought of a new adventure after the stress of finishing college.

  Thirty minutes later Tom eased his ‘Vette’ onto Interstate 135 North, which would take them to I-70 West for the long trip to California.

  While Julie read her book, Tom’s thoughts began to focus on the events that had turned their lives upside down. In fact, these events had turned everyone’s life upside down. It was common knowledge that the two Gulf Wars had neutered Sadam Hussein’s régime, Afghanistan was winding down and even Osama Bin Laden was dead, thanks to the great efforts of our military, but somehow our government had missed the bigger threat. It came as a complete surprise when the news broke that Iran had attacked Israel and Saudi Arabia with crude nuclear warheads. The flash war that followed involved every Arabic country in the area. It was the first and hopefully the last full-on nuclear war the human race will have to endure.

  The targets of choice were the oil fields. In less than two weeks, the violent exchange of nuclear weapons left almost 100% of the oil cartel’s production totally destroyed. The economic impact on the United States was devastating, and within 6 months every person in the world felt the effects of high double-digit inflation. If Tom and Julie hadn’t prepaid their last year at O.S.U., they would never have been able to graduate. Rolling blackouts were an everyday occurrence and ramped inflation numbed the senses. The price for a Big Mac was over $20. Businesses that had been successful icons for years were closing left and right and now he and Julie were facing the daunting task of driving over 1,500 miles of open highway for the first time since this, “10-day war.”

  After 5 hours at highway speed the fuel gauge was just south of a ¼ tank, and it was time to get serious about finding fuel. As luck would have it, Tom saw a sign advertising gasoline about 30 miles inside the Colorado State line. As he pulled off the highway, Julie sensed the change in speed and awoke from her slumber.

  “What’s happening?” she said in a sleep laden voice.

  “Just taking on some fuel… “What the heck is this?” Tom said suddenly, sitting up in his seat.

  “Look at the bars on the windows and doors… this place looks more like a check cashing store in downtown Chicago than a gas station.”

  There were no other cars at the gas pumps.

  Tom pulled up to the high-octane pump, and as he stepped out of the car he leaned down to tell Julie, “Lock the doors while I check this place out.”

  The door to the gas station was locked, so Tom cupped his hands to his eyes and leaned forward against the glass. There were no lights inside but he soon saw a figure moving toward him.

  Without saying a word the figure motioned for Tom to move over to a window like you used to see in the old drive-thru banks back in the 80’s.

  “Looking for some gas?” the figure said.

  “What’s going on here? This place looks closed.”

  “Well it ain’t,” the figure snapped back. “If you want gas, read the sign above your head and put your credit card in the drawer when I slide it open.”

  Tom stepped back to read the hand written sign:

  THERE IS NO CASH ON PREMISES

  WE ACCEPT CREDIT CARDS ONLY

  REGULAR IS $18/GAL

  HIGH TEST IS $21/GAL

  The surprise on Tom’s face was easy to read. “That’s over $6 a gallon more than I just paid in Oklahoma,” he said with loud frustration. “Are you sure those prices are right?”

  “If you don’t want any gas, just keep heading down the highway.”

  Tom wasn’t in any position to argue… he pulled out his credit card and tapped it on the window; the drawer slid open.

  “What was that all about?” Julie said as Tom started pumping the gas.

  “I’m very uncomfortable with this place; go ahead and start the engine while I top off the tank.”

  Tom hung-up the pump nozzle and returned to the window. The drawer slides open presenting him with a bill for $342. He signed the ticket, tore off his copy and pulled his credit card out just in time, before the tray was pulled back.

  In a matter of seconds Tom had the ‘Vette’ up to highway speed.

  “Tommy, you’re scaring me… What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure, but something’s not right. That asshole just tagged me for 340 bucks.”

  “We must have had it pretty good in Stillwater and didn’t realize it. I’m starting to get the feeling it’s more like a third world county out here with all the bad attitude and bars on the windows.”

  “Did you notice how few cars we’ve seen?” Tom continued. “We have about four more hours before sunset. Let’s keep an eye out for someplace to pull over and camp for the night. I’m sure we can’t afford a motel.”

  Once again they settled into the routine of the trip as they headed into the setting sun passing through the flat lands of Colorado.

  Sometime later, suddenly Tom was braking hard with no warning.

  “What the??” Julie shouted as she grabbed for the dashboard.

  “I think I just saw a sign saying something about home cooking!” Tom said, as he took the off ramp at double the exit speed.

  They were both pressed hard in their harnesses as they came to a stop.

  “You risk our lives beca
use you think you saw a sign that said home cooking?” Julie said totally exasperated.

  “It’s one of those impulse things; aren’t you getting hungry?” Tom added trying hard to change the subject.

  “Hey… there’s another sign with an arrow. Let’s give it a shot.”

  “Where are we anyhow?” Julie asked.

  “We’re on the outskirts of Denver, heading South on some Farm-to-Market road.”

  “Wow, look at these fields. This must be cattle country.”

  “Look, there’s another sign by that mailbox. Do you think it’s that farmhouse back in the trees?” asked Julie, sounding a little skeptical.

  “I think you’re right; this must be their driveway.”

  As they pulled closer to the house, the driveway widened into a small gravel parking area.

  Tom and Julie slowly got out of their car, stiff from the long day’s ride. Julie was just about ready to ask – what now, when the front door opened and a small stout lady with a well-worn blue apron waved a warm hello.

  “I see you’re from Oklahoma; are you kids headed west?” She asked in a warm and friendly voice.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Tom said with his best Southern accent. “We saw your signs, if this is the right place.”

  “Honey, if you’re hungry, this is the right place. Come on in and let me show you what we have.”

  Tom noticed the shadow of a figure standing behind the curtains just inside the front door and watched him move away as they walked toward the house.

  “Honey, these kids are from Oklahoma. They’re headed out west,” she announced in a loud voice, as if her husband must have been hard of hearing.