Eternity Base

by Bob Mayer

  Sammy turned from him and looked at her sister. “Are you with me, or are you going to play by the rules?”

  It surprised her when Conner smiled. “They won’t crush us, sis. I can play the game better than they can and make my own damn rules.” She reached under her shirt and pulled a 3.5-inch diskette out of her waistband. “I have the original video of the base—including the body, which we can now indentify, as well as pictures of the bombs and their serial numbers—digitized on this.” She glanced at Riley. “You weren’t the only one who prepared just in case someone showed up.”

  A faint smile of respect crossed Riley’s face, but his words were wary. “You know what’s going to happen. Even if you get someone other than SNN to run that, they’re going to come down on you hard.”

  Conner replaced the diskette. “I know.” She stood up and went over to the bed and sat down next to her sister. Taking Riley’s free hand and one of her sister’s, she squeezed them between her two hands. “But I think we can do it. We have to if we’re going to live with ourselves.”

  THE END

  Next book in the Green Beret Series

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  PURCHASE

  Book II in the Presidential Series

  THE KENNEDY ENDEAVOR

  Chapter One

  The Present

  HERE RESTS IN

  HONORED GLORY

  AN AMERICAN

  SOLDIER

  KNOWN BUT TO GOD

  Colonel Paul Ducharme stared at the panel on one side of the marble monument that marked the graves holding the unknown soldiers from World War I through Vietnam here in the heart of Arlington Cemetery. He doubted there would be any more unknowns given DNA typing. The military had even backtracked and identified the Vietnam unknown and his family had claimed his body and re-buried him at Jefferson Barracks. But that did not mean there would be an end to the dead, because as Plato said millennia ago, only the dead have seen the end of war.

  Emergency lights were flashing around the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and Ducharme knew the ‘authorities’ had their hands full trying to explain the night’s activities and remove the bodies. Too many people with too much power needed this entire event hushed up, so Ducharme wasn’t overly concerned about publicity. When the covert world wanted something kept quiet, they would go to any lengths.

  The 3rd Infantry, more commonly known as the Old Guard, whose duty it was to guard the Tomb, had not only just defended it, but already had a man ‘walking the mat,’ even though he was dressed in camouflage, not dress blues. Arlington was shut down right now, but by daylight, all would be back to normal, the guard would be in the proper uniform and the world at large would be no wiser about what had happened overnight to save the country.

  Twenty years of Special Operations duty had carved their hardship into Ducharme. Scars crisscrossed his skull underneath hair that was more white than silver. He also had a scar just underneath his right eye. Despite his age, he was fit, physical conditioning being an ingrained part of his lifestyle and profession. Physically fit, that is. His hands occasionally had a slight tremor in them, and there was little he could do about the intermittent pain that lanced through his brain. He’d worked hard in rehab to deal with the mental problems associated with his traumatic brain injury (TBI) and was still, as he liked to say, functional.

  Almost all the time.

  “We can’t put part of the Cipher in the Tomb,” Evie said.

  “We’re not going there,” Ducharme replied.

  Evie Tolliver, the curator of Monticello and former CIA agent, was of roughly the same age as Ducharme, in her mid-forties, and also fit. Flanking her was Sergeant Major Kincannon, the third leg of the group that had succeeded in beating the Society of the Cincinnati to the parts of the Jefferson Cipher and decoding it in order to uncover the Jefferson Allegiance before the SOC did, thus keeping control of it.

  A powerful document, one that was a secret part of the Constitution, control of the Allegiance had allowed the country to keep the fulfillment of an Imperial Presidency at bay for two centuries. It was the ultimate weapon the Philosophers used to battle the Society of the Cincinnati. Brokered during the growing pains of the country between Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton, it was, and continued to be, the ultimate compromise between either extreme of government.

  Without another word, Ducharme headed out into the cemetery and the two followed without question into the calm of the fields of the dead. Dawn was lighting up the eastern sky and the tombstones cast long shadows in the early morning chill.

  Ducharme halted. “Here.”

  Evie looked at the newly emplaced headstone:

  CAPTAIN CHARLES LAGRANGE

  BORN NEW ORLEANS 6 MAY 1972

  DIED 3 JANUARY

  DUTY-HONOR-COUNTRY

  SILVER STAR

  Book II in the Presidential Series

  THE KENNEDY ENDEAVOR

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  Bob is also well-know for his crackling, realistic military science fiction. He is the master at blending facts with fiction to the point where readers don’t know what is real and what isn’t.

  Chapter One

  Roland fired the M-240 from the hip—not approved procedure for accuracy, but he was a former Special Forces weapons man with three combat tours, and every 7.62-millimeter round went directly at the seventeen-inch screen of the laptop. The golden iris emanating from the screen sucked the bullets in like a raging ocean absorbing rain, without the slightest ripple or effect.

  The laptop rested on a boulder at the foot of a mesa fourteen miles outside of Tucson. A generator was stuttering nearby, providing power to the laptop and having supplied energy for the initial opening of the phenomenon protecting the computer. Roland was still in his jump harness, having just completed a high-altitude, low-opening parachute drop through the night sky.

  “Confirming a Rift,” Roland yelled into his throat mike. “Six Fireflies are out.”

  Moms’s unflappable voice replied in his earpiece. “Roger. Inbound.”

  Roland released the trigger after wasting a second fifteen-round burst, knowing bullets were now useless against the Rift. His head was on a swivel. He’d spotted six golden sparks come out of the screen just before his feet hit the ground, and who knew what they’d gotten into? The Rift was Doc’s problem now. The Fireflies were the real danger.

  The Snake came roaring in, wings rotating from horizontal to vertical, jet engines pulsing, almost eerily silent as the thrust passed through sound dampeners. Doors slid open on both sides of the delta-shaped aircraft and fast ropes were tossed out. Four figures slid down. The fast ropes were released and the Snake rose to over-watch height. A door slid open at the nose of the Snake and the chain gun extended into firing position.

  Racing from the discarded ropes, Moms—the team leader—led the way, her MP-5 submachine gun at the ready. Nada was on her right with his sub, along with Burns armed with an M-203, and Doc brought up the rear, carrying a military-hardened laptop of his own along with a small dish transmitter.

  “Eagle,” Moms ordered the pilot, “get a Wall in.”

  The Snake banked and raced in a clockwise circle, five hundred meters around the Rift, firing down probes every three hundred meters of the circumference. When the last one was in, they were activated, forming a Wall around the area of operations, and the Snake returned to over-watch.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Roland caught movement as he shrugged off his parachute harness. He wheeled as a coyote launched at him from twenty meters away. An unnatural leap for a coyote and plenty of distance for Roland to stitch it with a solid burst. But close enough that the rounds weren’t enough to stop a creature taken over by a Firefly. The bullets barely slowe
d the coyote’s flight.

  It landed on Roland, teeth snapping, claws ripping at his body armor.

  Moms and Nada fired at the coyote on top of him, making the Delta Force live-fire training for hostage rescue in the Kill House at Bragg look like child’s play. Every round hit the beast, not a one scratching Roland.

  The combined force of the fusillade knocked the coyote off Roland and he rolled in the opposite direction, bracing for what he knew would be next.

  “H.E.,” Burns warned as he fired the forty-millimeter grenade launcher underneath the rifle barrel of his M-203. The high explosive round hit the coyote center of mass, blowing a huge chunk out of the creature’s chest and stunning it for the moment. It had been dead since Roland’s initial burst, but the Firefly still had enough to work with.

  “Doc, forward!” Moms ordered. “Nada, cover him. Burns, finish it. Eagle, we got one in a coyote, scan for anything living.”

  Doc—a short, balding man with thick glasses—was completely out of place among the military personnel blasting away with weapons all around him. And yet he ran toward the growing golden iris in front of the offending laptop. He dropped to his knees and opened up his own computer. He scrambled to connect a FireWire cable to the dish.

  Roland ignored Doc, firing his M-240 at the coyote, but despite the damage, the remains of the coyote came toward Roland.

  Burns fired again and this round blew the remnants to shreds. Roland slid the machine gun on its sling over his shoulder and grabbed the pistol grip attached to the tank of napalm on his back, pulling it out of its asbestos sheath. He flamed the remains, charring it to ashes.

  A golden spark of light, four inches in circumference, lifted from the corpse, then disappeared into a wisp and then nothing.

  “How many?” Moms was at Roland’s side as he slid the flamer back into its holster and readied the machine gun once more.

  “Six. One down.”

  “You certain?” Moms asked as the two went back-to-back to gain 360-degree coverage. Nada was hovering over Doc, head turning to and fro.

  “Yes.”

  A new voice came over the team’s net. “Got two hot to your west, moving in tight to each other toward you,” Eagle reported from the Snake, hovering a hundred feet overhead. “Targeting. Looks like more coyotes. I’ve got a Wall surrounding you at five hundred meters.”

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  Lost Girls

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  The Line

  “Mayer has crafted a military thriller in the tradition of John Grisham’s The Firm.” Kirkus

  Omega Missile

  “Rogue politicians, a maniac scientist and the doomsday weapon—The Omega Missile comes screaming down on target. A great action reader!” Stephen Coonts.

  Omega Sanction

  “A very good novel. This is one book you can trust.

  Behind the Lines.”

  Section Eight

  THE GREEN BERET SERIES

  An 8 book series featuring Dave Rile and Horace Chase

  Eyes of the Hammer

  “Exciting and authentic. Author Mayer, a Green Beret himself, gave me a vivid look at the world of the Army’s Special Forces as they battle America’s most deadly enemy. His portrayal of Green Beret operations and techniques takes you deep into the covert world of Special Operations as a you follow an A-Team into combat. Don’t miss this one.”

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  “Mayer keeps story and characters firmly under control. The venal motives of the scientists and military bureaucracy are tellingly contrasted with the idealism of the soldiers. A treat for military fiction readers.” Publishers Weekly

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  “A masterpiece of technology and suspense.” Library Journal

  Eternity Base

  “Sinewy writing enhances this already potent action fix. An adrenaline cocktail from start to finish.” Kirkus Reviews

  Z: The Final Countdown

  Mayer has written a very good novel and has established himself as one of today’s better military technothriller writers. A background in Special Operations gives him credibility and understanding from having been there and done that.”

  Airpower Journal

  Chasing the Ghost

  “Fascinating, imaginative and nerve-wracking.” Kirkus Reviews

  Chasing the Lost

  Simply irresistible.” Booklist

  THE ATLANTIS SERIES

  A 6 book Science Fiction Series

  “Spell-binding! Will keep you on the edge of your seat. Call it techno-thriller, call it science fiction, call it just terrific story-telling.” Terry Brooks, #1 NY Times Bestselling author of the Shannara series and Star Wars Phantom Menace

  THE AREA 51 SERIES

  A 9 book Science Fiction Series

  When nine atmospheric crafts of unknown origin were discovered in the Antarctic in the late 1940s, the U.S. government established Area 51 to study the abandoned technology. Dr. Hans Von Seeckt, who is the only original member of the secret research committee, has observed the marvelous craft in flight and witnessed a fantastic array of bizarre, unexplained phenomena. But Dr. Van Seeckt fears that the technology of the mothership is beyond our scope and an explosive threat to the entire planet. He must race against time to unlock the secret of the ship--and to the origins of mankind itself.

  THE NIGHTSTALKERS SERIES

  Bob Mayer’s Nightstalkers grabs you by the rocket launcher and doesn’t let go. Fast-moving military SF action—just the way I like it. Highly recommended. -B.V. Larson

  For more information on Bob Mayer please visit http://bobmayer.org or http://coolgus.com

  About Bob Mayer

  NY Times Bestselling Author Bob Mayer attended West Point where he earned a degree in Psychology and later he earned a Master's degree in Education. He went on to serve in the Infantry and then Special Forces as a Green Beret and commanded an A-team, which is where many of his bestselling ideas were formulated.

  Mayer's obsession with mythology and his vast knowledge of the military and Special Forces, mixed with his strong desire to learn from history, is the foundation for his science fiction series Atlantis, Area 51 and Psychic Warrior. Mayer is a master at blending elements of truth into all of his thrillers such as The Green Beret Series, The Shadow Warrior Series, The Presidential Series as well his historical fiction, leaving the reader questioning what is real and what isn't.

  Bob has lived all over the world and beyond, but has settled down on Write on the River with his wife and 2 golden labs, Cool Gus and Sassy Becca. He spends his free time running with the dogs, biking, kayaking, and watching or reading whatever his much smarter wife tells him to. She controls the remote. He has a grandson, whom he is training to be the leader of the resistance against the machines.

  For more information about Bob Mayer, his books or his business consulting business, Who Dares Wins, please go to http://bobmayer.org or http://coolgus.com

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&n
bsp; Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ETERNITY BASE by Bob Mayer

  The Green Beret Series

  COPYRIGHT © 1996 by Bob Mayer, updated 2012

  Originally published by Presidio Press May 1996

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author (Bob Mayer, Who Dares Wins) except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Electronic ISBN 9781935712824

  Cool Gus Publishing

  http://coolgus.com

  Table of Contents

  ETERNITY BASE

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6