We pulled up behind the tour bus and parked. I noticed the sign on the side advertised The Monuments at Night Tour.
“Are we taking a tour while in town?” I mumbled.
Danny got out first. He left his door open, bathing me in the bright overhead light. I felt completely exposed. He stepped in front of the vehicle and behind the limousine with his hands raised in the air. My heart began to thunder in my chest. Were we caught? Seconds later, the back door to the limo opened and two men emerged. They stood in the dark so I couldn’t make out their features other than each man wore a suit. I heard Danny speaking with them in muffled tones. After a few very long moments, he turned and motioned for me, and our two companions in the other SUV, to join him.
We got out and walked to Danny’s side, flanking him, and preparing for any trouble.
“Cecil Garrison, Charlotte McVey, Sam Andrews …” Danny said pointing to each of us in turn. “I would like you to meet Dr. Ray Winder, the president’s science adviser.”
I met Dr. Winder once before when he spoke at an Army conference at the Pentagon. His speech was about scientific advances benefiting the military. I remembered him as a slender and graying man. In the three years since our encounter, he seemed as if he aged twenty years. His hair was almost completely gray and his haggard face and slumped shoulders bore the weight of the world.
“Nice to meet you and thank you for your service to our country,” he said as he shook each of our hands.
He stepped back in the shadows and waited as Danny introduced the doctor’s counterpart.
“Our next ally needs no introduction,” Danny said as he held out his hand in welcome for the other person to step forward.
A collective gasp went up from everyone and I found myself frozen in disbelief as the other figure stepped forward. We all recognized him, how could we not recognize our own Commander in Chief … the President of the United States.
CHAPTER 10
THE SHREDDER REVEALED
“Do not tell secrets to those whose faith and silence you have not already tested.”
~Elizabeth I
An eerie, awestruck silence fell over the group as we stared in disbelief. Danny watched us for a few moments before he spoke.
“Mr. President, this is Charlotte McVey, Sam Andrews and Cecil Garrison,” he said, pointing to each of us in turn.
The president waited as Danny pointed each of us out, and then he stepped forward and extended his hand to me.
“Major Garrison, I know this must be hard for you. I want you to know how much I appreciate your loyalty to your country,” the president said, shaking my hand.
I could have said thank you, or my pleasure, or just doing my duty, sir … or I could have said screw you, you coward. I didn’t say anything at all, I was still in too much shock to get my tongue and brain to coalesce and make a lucid statement. I wasn’t star struck. I met the president before. It was about a year ago during a White House dinner at the invitation of my father. I believed this man was our enemy, in league with my father and other cronies in the government. However, here he was in a deserted parking lot offering his help. According to Danny, he had been helping for a while.
Andrews broke the silence. His unpredictable temper boiled over at the sight of the president. He stepped forward with malice as he spoke.
“You son of a bitch!” he raged. “Do you know what the hell you are doing? Do you have any idea? Maybe we ought to turn you into one of them so you’ll understand!”
Andrews reached behind him to retrieve the pistol tucked in his waistband. As he brought his arm back, I instinctively lunged at him, hitting him square on the chest. My larger frame won out as he sprawled backwards, landing hard on his back as the pistol discharged. Danny was on top of him before I could move again. He disarmed and pinned him before I could straighten up. Charlotte watched with her hands over her mouth, her eyes as big as saucers.
Dr. Winder ushered the President back to the car, keeping his body between Andrews and the Commander in Chief. I kept expecting Secret Service to emerge from the bushes or the car at any moment.
Danny sat on Andrews’s chest with his knees pinning his arms to the pavement. He bent low, his face inches from the would-be presidential assassin. He let loose with a string of obscenities as Danny stared at him with contempt. After a long couple of minutes, Danny got up and helped Andrews to his feet. On Danny’s orders, he walked over and climbed on the tour bus, the metal door slamming shut behind him.
Danny walked back to the limo and leaned inside. After a couple of moments of conversation, he beckoned Charlotte and me to come over. The president leaned out and spoke.
“Major Garrison, as I was saying, I want you to know how much I appreciate your courage. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do more to help. My hands are somewhat tied trying to take care of my own family.”
He confirmed what I already suspected, the president wasn’t pulling the strings, and my father was. In some kind of bizarre coup d’état, he and the military controlled the government. Not by removal and replacement, it was accomplished through control by intimidation. If he was able to do it with the president, I’m sure the Supreme Court was a piece of cake.
“I’m sorry, Mr. President,” I said, which was all I could muster.
“I am too, Major Garrison,” he said. “It’s more my blame than anyone. I trusted him and appointed him. I had no idea he was capable of this.”
I shook my head.
“Don’t call me major, please … just Cecil. I gave up the title when I joined the resistance.”
The president regarded at me for several long moments; I could see tears welling in his eyes.
“It is men like you who make this country great, major. And as long as I am Commander in Chief, you will always be a major.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” I said. He then turned his attention to Charlotte.
“Thank you for being a patriot and a decent human being, Charlotte,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”
Charlotte blushed and shook his hand. She muttered something unintelligible before stepping back behind me.
“Well Colonel Bradley,” the president said. “This is your last run to DC. I wish you Godspeed in your mission.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Is there anything else I can do for either one of you?”
Without hesitation Danny said, “Could Dr. Winder please explain the Tesla Gate to Major Garrison? Winder explained it to me a while back and I’m still not sure I completely understood it.” He glanced at his watch and said, “Besides, our pickup is in about fifteen minutes and we really don’t need four people.”
The President and Dr. Winder gazed at each other for a long moment, and then Dr. Winder shrugged. “That’s fine by me, Mr. President,” he said. “Do you have the time?”
“I think so, as long as there is not a national emergency it should be several hours before the Secret Service notices I am missing.”
I wasn’t sure how the president could get out of the White House without the Secret Service noticing. That wasn’t the question I wanted answered. I wanted to know about the Tesla Gates.
“Would you mind sitting inside, Major Garrison?” Dr. Winder asked.
“Are you sure you don’t need me?” I said to Danny before slipping inside the massive car.
“Nope, we got it covered,” he said, and then glanced at his watch. “We should be back in a half hour. We are going in to pick up a load in the bus … much more inconspicuous.”
“There should be a few more crates of batteries on the bus,” Dr. Winder said. “I figured you could use more.”
We collected a good stockpile in the mine back at Brentwood Springs, but the more the better.
“Thanks, we’ll be back shortly,” Danny said and shut the door, leaving the President, Dr. Winder and me in relative darkness.
Dr. Winder activated an overhead light, illuminating all our faces and casting the interior into eerie relief. I felt as if I was
in an interrogation room or perhaps gathered around a campfire about to tell ghost stories. I guess, in a sense, that was what we were about to do.
“Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I am going to go up front with Kingston and make a call. My wife is in California today and she will be expecting a call from me in a few minutes,” the president said.
“Kingston is our driver,” Dr. Winder offered. “He is an ex-Marine and Secret Service agent. There is no one I would trust more when we are travelling covertly like this.”
The president pressed a button by his head.
“Kingston, I am coming up front for a while … passenger side door.”
“Yes sir,” responded a deep voice on the speaker. He sounded like Boris Karloff’s narration of The Grinch.
The president slid out the passenger side and closed the door. I caught a brief glimpse of the taillights of the tour bus as they pulled away. A moment later, we heard the front door of the limo slam shut.
“Is he all right?” I asked.
“Oh yes, like I said there is no one I would trust more,” Dr. Winder said.
“Why the hell did he not at least get out of the car when Andrews threatened the President?” I thought to myself.
“So you want to know about the Tesla Gate?” Dr. Winder asked.
“Yes, I do.”
“There are very few people who even know of its existence,” Dr. Winder began. “A handful of people in the upper levels of the government and on a few military bases have any knowledge. I take it you knew about it on your base?”
“Enough to know it was there and what it was being used for. I find it hard to believe that the government could come up with something like this so fast, even if Einstein agreed to help them.”
Winder grimaced as if I struck a nerve with my mention of Einstein. “Yes … well, I don’t think he would. He seemed to be one of the few people who had enough foresight to see what was happening after this storm hit. Besides, the Gates were around long before this event.”
“Where is Einstein?” I asked.
Dr. Winder and Albert Einstein made several radio appearances together. When the storm first started, they speculated about the cause and consequences of the phenomenon.
“I don’t know,” Winder said, sadness in his voice. “He disappeared a couple of weeks ago. I’m not sure if he got away or if he was taken away.” I could tell he was choosing his words carefully, because if he were taken away, my father would be to blame.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Dr. Winder shook his head as if warding off a pesky fly.
“Well … anyway. They were created a few years ago with a completely different purpose in mind.”
He put a finger to his lips for a moment.
“Have you ever heard of the Philadelphia Experiment?” Winder asked.
Indeed, I had. I remembered it as a science-fiction movie from when I was a kid. Since then, there have been a number of documentaries and conspiracy theories trying to either prove or debunk its legitimacy.
“The Philadelphia Experiment was a military experiment alleged to have been carried out at the naval shipyard in Pennsylvania,” Dr. Winder explained.
I had the feeling it would soon be no longer alleged.
“I forget the exact date,” Winder continued, “it was sometime around October of 1943. The United States Navy destroyer escort USS Eldridge was reported to be rendered invisible, or “cloaked” to both the naked eye and to tracking devices. This disappearance was due to an experiment based on an aspect of the unified field theory, a term coined by none other than Einstein.”
The fact he did not say ‘allegedly’ based on Einstein’s theory was not lost on me.
“The Unified Field Theory,” Winder continued after taking a deep breath, “aims to describe mathematically and physically the interrelated nature of forces that comprise electromagnetic radiation and gravity. In other words, this unites electromagnetism and gravity into one field. Consequently, if light were bent, then space-time would be bent, effectively creating an invisible time machine.”
I had heard all this before and, while interesting, I was not certain how this pertained to the Tesla Gates. I wanted the layman’s answer and I hoped Dr. Winder would get to the point soon.
“According to the accounts, unspecified ‘researchers’ theorized that some version of this Unified Field Theory would enable a person to use large electrical generators to bend light around an object so that the object became completely invisible. The Navy would have regarded this as being of obvious military value, and by the accounts, it sponsored the experiment.”
Dr. Winder paused to remove his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to fight back a headache
“I will skip all of the conspiracy theories out there and stick to the subjects I know to be fact. Besides, the important event, which pertains to the Tesla Gates, happened on October 28, 1943. This time, the Eldridge not only became invisible, she vanished from the area in a flash of blue light and teleported to Norfolk, Virginia, over two hundred miles away. The claim is that the Eldridge sat for some time in full view of men aboard the ship SS Andrew Furuseth. A short time later the Eldridge vanished from Norfolk and then reappeared in Philadelphia at the same site from which she vanished.”
I had heard that story as well, however I had always believed it to be nothing more than a conspiracy theorist’s dreams or Hollywood chimera. “You mean it is true?” I asked in disbelief.
“One-hundred percent,” he said. “I personally saw the documentation and testimony from several scientists who worked on the project, including Einstein himself.”
“So … you are telling me the Tesla Gates are a version of the Philadelphia Experiment?” I asked.
“In a way. The experiments were abandoned after the war ended. Data was hidden or destroyed so it would not fall into Communist hands. It was almost lost to history until revived by a grandson of one of the original scientists. He sold his late grandfather’s journals and schematics to the government. He got a very hefty paycheck and then disappeared to Europe to live off his newfound wealth.”
“I’m still confused over what this has to do with Impals,” I admitted.
“Well.” Winder began. “The military’s goal with this technology was to develop a teleportation device to send equipment, tanks or men anywhere instantly, the ultimate surprise attack.”
“Did it work?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” Winder admitted. “With equipment anyway.”
“Did any people go through it?”
“Yes, one was burned alive in the electrical current and the other … well they still don’t know where he is.”
“So somebody got the idea that this thing would shred Impals?” I asked as my temper started to flare. The human capacity for ignorance and cruelty was beyond my comprehension.
“Not exactly … it was kind of an accidental discovery, you know like how the microwave oven was invented.” Winder said, trying to muster a small smile that never materialized. I would have questioned his sincerity if it had.
I heard this story as well. Microwave emitters powered Allied radar in World War II. The leap from detecting Nazis to nuking nachos came in 1946, after a magnetron melted a candy bar in Raytheon engineer Percy Spencer’s pocket.
“How?” I pressed.
“As coincidence would have it, they ran another human test at the facility in Arizona minutes after the cosmic storm arrived. The volunteer, if successful, was supposed to rematerialize about a mile away at a designated location on the base. Instead, he was thrown backwards by the electric current as if he hit a brick wall. He died on the spot, burned to a crisp. His spirit, his Impal part remained. It was probably due to disorientation, but the man’s soul, his Impal, ran at the current and vanished without a trace.”
I swallowed hard, having a good idea what happened next.
“So my father got wind of it and seized the opportunity?” I half stated and ha
lf asked.
Dr. Winder ducked his head and stared at his lap, avoiding eye contact. He shook his head as he spoke.
“No, major … he took it as more of a sign, a sign from God on how he was supposed to eradicate these unholy abominations. He got everyone riled up into a frenzy of fear so fast no one took time to stop and question it before it was too late.”
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“Yes son, He is who we must look to right now,” Dr. Winder said.
I was about to ask how many Tesla Gates or ‘Shredders’ existed when a loud crack sent my heart leaping into my throat. The sound of gunfire erupted outside the car.
CHAPTER 11
THE BACK SEAT
“Tell mother, tell mother, I died for my country … useless … useless.”
~John Wilkes Booth
Panic gripped Dr. Winder. He pressed back into his seat almost as if he believed he were an Impal and could somehow pass through the padded leather into the safety of the trunk. I pulled my pistol out of my pocket and doused the overhead light. Total darkness engulfed us as a muffled yell and another gunshot rang out. My heart jumped into my throat.
I peered through the dark windows, trying to catch a glimpse of one of the shooters. There was only eerie silence. I could hear the rapid breathing of Dr. Winder close by in the blackness. He emitted a pathetic whimper with each exhalation; the man was terrified. And why shouldn’t he be? I was scared as hell too, and I trained for situations like this.
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