A knock came on the door and an agent set a manila envelope on the table. Ray opened it to reveal a piece of blue tacky material with a piece of fortune cookie like paper. Just the head of the paper was imbedded in the tacky material; the rest looked like an accordion. Ray grabbed the end and pulled it taut and read, 0.075806 on one side and 78.381958 on the other. Eric asked first, “What the hell does that mean, Ray?”
“It means I was right and we do have a man on the inside of this. Not only that, he’s telling us to come and get him.”
Kim shot him an inquisitive look, “How the hell can you tell that by those numbers?”
Ray Callahan was one of the people currently instrumental in solving the known two-thirds of the Kryptos Puzzle, a nearly unsolvable puzzle wall that the CIA put between the old and new Headquarter buildings to inspire its employees. They even put it in view of the lunchroom as to add accessibility. It had taken years for Ray and his colleagues to get as far as they had, so this note was nothing to one of the minds working on figuring out the Kryptos puzzle. He looked at Eric and Kim, “They’re longitude and latitude markers.”
“Son-of-a-Bitch!” Kim exclaimed. “You know, Ray, I was on board, but a small sliver of me thought you were Bat-Shit-Crazy. I’ll never have a sliver of doubt on you again!”
“Thanks, Kim. I’ve always thought you were a little too overbearing, but I’ve definitely seen over the last few months that you’re just smarter than everyone else.” If he wasn’t mistaken, he actually saw Kim blush a little.
Before they left, Eric Barnett made one call and had Sarah on a plane to Panama within thirty minutes. He had a hunch he was going to need her there.
They entered the War Room as a trio, sans Sarah. The conversation was back with General Hatten and they were talking about options. The General was saying their laser capability was close to coming into play, but he didn’t see what all the over caution and speculation was about. They could just simply fly a bird to eighty thousand feet and shoot an ASM-135 up at it. General Hatten matter-of-factly stated, “If we wish to drop this satellite, it will be no problem.”
Eric Barnett spoke up before the President made a decision. “Gentlemen, we have some breaking news and it’s going to be unpopular at first.”
Lawrence gave the “come on in and tell your story” wave with an air of Southern hospitality that was feigned as could be. He took the time to give Kim a look every child knows. It’s the look naughty children are given when they can’t be dealt with right then and there, but later on, man are they going to get it! Kim knew she had better be spot on. I know that look, but it’s never been aimed at me before.
Ray spoke first, “We know who did this. Or at least, we know where they are.”
“And how do ‘we’ know this, Ray?” Blurted out The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Mitch Osborne.
“Because our agent on the inside just sent us the longitude and latitude of their base of operation.”
“What agent on the inside?!” President Caulfield’s voice was almost a roar.
Eric looked at the President straight in the eyes. “Agent Matt Hurst.”
Kim walked up beside Eric and nodded, “Yes” to her boss, as did Ray.
* * *
He watched the gringo from his catbird seat using binoculars. How far he has come in the trust department. Pablo watched as Matt worked with the dogs. He loved to work with those dogs and he loved to make sure they were safe. He and Matt ate dinner many nights together and Pablo felt almost a friendship establishing. If they weren’t in the middle of “changing the world,” he’d have considered Matt smart enough and interesting enough to be his friend, an idea he had not allowed himself since James died.
Felipe was no friend, and neither were the members of the Anthill Gang, as they were followers—although he was very surprised at Felipe’s intelligence, he would admit. Had Felipe been born in Manhattan to some rich parents, he surely would have prospered on whatever path privilege would have allowed him to follow. When Pablo taught Felipe “the Video Game,” he caught on very quickly and was soon mastering it. It took a month of them playing for many hours a day, but Felipe soon became an expert on “The Game.”
Then Pablo showed him what the game really was and he knew what it was like to be a father on Christmas, to be able to give one’s kid the one toy he wanted more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life (if that kid was a psychopath). Of course, his child’s aspiration was the power to kill a lot of people. It was with that enthusiasm that Felipe went out and taught his Ants how to play. So now, all eleven of them were experts at “The Game” and they were all in their own private rooms ready to play. Felipe came in from behind him; Pablo saw his reflection in the window as he stared out at the American.
Pablo asked, “Have you decided?”
Felipe answered, “Yes, I’ve decided. The gringo can stand beside me at the hour.”
“You will have made her very happy. She’s been holding her tongue, waiting. I’m sure you had an argument coming, as her points are valid.”
“Yes, it’s true Pablo. He had no reason to finish her mission. So why does it still bother me?”
“Because it’s your job not to trust, Felipe, and you never hear me call your thoughts foolish. To the contrary, I trust you more than myself. You’re not clouded in any way which allows you to have a sole purpose, and that is to see me through this.” Pablo looked out over the compound and beyond, “As for me?” He paused and looked at his little General, “The gringo has already won me over.” He looked down with the field glasses and smiled as he saw Matt praising a dog for good behavior.
* * *
His back hurt; he’d been hunched over his work for two hours now. Grading papers was still a job that required one to do it hands-on, no shortcuts allowed. There were no computer programs to do it for you, it was figuratively mano-a-mano, yet it was still one of the joys he got from teaching. He loved the prospect of spotting the next great mind out of their early thoughts and work, although tonight, his mind drifted as he corrected papers, as any mind would have given this last month.
The big change in his life was that he certainly didn’t need to be here doing this anymore. It was for “pure love of teaching” from this point on. Nope, money was no longer a concern after his friends set him up for life. All of it was confirmed when he went to the bank and used the key for the safe deposit box in his name. Well, that’s what the cryptic note said to do and who am I to refuse a cryptic note placed in my mailbox? Especially with friends like I have. It was a note with a key taped on it—and once he opened the box, his life was never to be the same again. He realized why the largest box was chosen as he gazed on the glimmering contents inside. He took just one of them out and had it appraised. He was now a very rich man, but why gold? There were a lot of ways to make someone wealthy, but actually giving them gold was curious?
He figured there was some big change last year, as his “shadow detail” disappeared completely. Apparently their direction changed. Well, at least now he knew his two friends were okay. Then he had a sobering thought, it’s more likely one friend by now sadly.
Anyway, “they” never did anything without a reason. For the life of him, Jeremy couldn’t think of why he was given a fortune in this manner though? He didn’t know what change was coming, but he did know that the message was to have one’s money in gold. Pablo had gone from “Super Student” to “Super Terrorist” and then it hit him, the change is going to be financial, that must be it. It means that soon his gold will be worth even more. The problem was greed, as he wanted to spend some of it now.
He finally decided that he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Funny, that American didn’t spend too much time with me, but he no doubt left an imprint, especially in the cheesy-American-sayings-department. He turned off his desk lamp and decided to spend just a little of the money. Tomorrow he would go house hunting.
* * *
The President had an actu
al look of confusion, “That’s an incredible story Ray, one I’m still having a hard time believing.”
Eric Barnett was known as a no-nonsense-person and he reiterated, “They sold me, Lawrence.” Just then Ray’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket, the name on the display was Doug Sharp.
He stepped out to answer, much to the dismay of his boss, “So what do we do with this information?” the President asked, “What’s the proposal?”
Hatten shot in, “I say we send over a U-2, let’s get recon.”
Anders piped in, “We have the USS George H.W. Bush doing maneuvers in the Pacific between there and Hawaii. We can get her into place if we need to get to those coordinates with ground troops. Or, we could drop the satellite with a Tomcat and the right missile loaded.”
“That sounds solid, Steve, make it happen on the U-2. Admiral Anders, make the Bush happen as well. I want assault plans for those coordinates from you too, Charley. I’m not too concerned about Ecuador’s response right now either, if someone is thinking of that. We need more information on just who is involved here, people. Eric, get your people in Ecuador moving right away! We need Intel on just how much their Government knows.”
Ray popped back in with a self-righteous look that he rarely allowed himself, “I have the final straw on this debate. And Sir, there will be no doubt this time.”
* * *
Still gazing out over the compound in one of his many contemplative moments, Pablo spoke to Felipe, “The hour is almost upon us. By now they’ll want to destroy the satellite and we all need to be prepared. I believe in the military they call this ‘Battle Stations.’” Felipe left Pablo’s side and began the final preparations, the first of which was a pep talk with his people. Pablo returned to the window and didn’t hear or see Vera, but he knew she was there so he spoke, “Felipe chose to allow Matt to stand by his side, nowhere else.”
There was an audible sigh of relief, “That’s good.” Then she saw something she didn’t like in Pablo’s face. “You do realize that nothing has changed. The minute his obligation is up with you, the pendejo dies by my knife.”
Pablo said, “I have not forgotten my promise.” He hung his head slightly when he said it.
“You like him?! I can see it, you feel bad about it.”
Pablo calmly said, “I will admit that I am slightly torn, as Felipe would die for me. But for what he did to you, he should die a painful death, you have that right.”
She calmed a bit, and he saw it was going to get emotional so he sidestepped it by capitulating. Here he was, probably the most powerful single man in history and he was being brow beaten by an angry woman.
“When can I tell Matt?”
“As soon as you want. I have a small errand to accomplish and then we will be online for the final step. I believe they will foolishly activate the satellite’s program by tomorrow at the latest, their hubris will insist on moving stalwartly forward. Once they do, they will be very sorry, and then very angry. It won’t be long now, my dear.”
Vera brightened, “You won’t regret it, Pablo, as now you will have two men by your side that will die for you.”
Pablo looked at Matt working with a dog in the training paddock; it was attacking a human dressed in pads. Even with the guy padded up, the dog was doing impressive damage, “I think I already had that Vera, verbally bringing him in seems merely a formality.”
* * *
The President asked his Air Force General, “Steve, what have we got?”
“Well, at that longitude/latitude there seems to be a quarry of a massive size. We confirmed through Intel that there is in fact a private quarry operated there. It’s called, ‘Las Ovejas Cantera.’”
“Well, it looks like we got the right place,” piped in Marine General Charley Sexton. “Now the big question is, are we going in?”
“Not yet we aren’t, Charley. Not until Eric brings us some news. I’m remiss for not using the Ambassador or the U.N., but this is unprecedented territory and before we do that, I want to know everything we can.”
Admiral Anders addressed the President, “We have the F-18 loaded with a Kinetic Kill Warhead. It’s sitting on the flight deck of the George H.W. Bush.”
“Very well, Mark.” The President paused and all noticed that he had a new look on his face, he was finally showing his war face. “Gentlemen, I intend to contact the Secretary of Defense and have the satellite shot down. Are there any objections?”
Not one hand was raised on the most monumental decision any of them would ever make in their lives.
* * *
Pablo sat at the control console with deadly intent. His automated tracking system picked up the spy plane on its last pass. The next time they try to pass with the U-2, they would be sorry as his satellite had more than one trick up its sleeve. Pablo reached out and with the push of a button the outer panels on the satellite broke away.
On one of the sides of the satellite, an arm came out and slowly unfolded, its concealed interconnecting mirror opening like a geisha’s fan. The rest of the satellite had changed too; it now was shock resistant in a way that no satellite had ever been. Once the panels broke off, the morphed satellite’s shiny titanium hull looked very impervious.
For years the world had speculated that the Soviets and Americans had such satellites—ones that could be maneuvered and that had offensive capabilities. Well, let’s just see how they like this little puppy, Pablo thought. He realized he just internally blurted another of James’ expressions unconsciously. Both Jeremy and Pablo found those expressions so amusing and James made it a habit to always have a new one for them.
James was working with a new kind of battery when he got sick, and it was a battery like no other. Its cells recharge at a rate a thousand times faster than that of a regular battery, and its output could be harnessed for some crazy things. If attached to a solar source, a carefully crafted satellite such as this would have a shelf life of about a hundred years.
But that wasn’t enough for James Haberman. James also discovered an amazing property in the batteries late one night in his lab. It happened when he overloaded one accidentally with a power surge. Yet when Pablo looked at it from the right perspective, the hand of God had always been at work here.
James was working on crossing battery cells to see if he could get more amperage. His new “Vortex” design (it got the name for the way the cells interconnect, unlike any battery source ever before) was proving to be very good. The battery’s life was extended by thirty percent and the AMPs were increased by almost the same number. He was recharging it for the next test when he decided to test a laser he was working on.
During that test, there was a surge in the Lab’s output and the battery was erroneously not protected from it. The effect was massive and if anyone had been in the other lab at that time, there would have been a fatality. James estimated it was the largest non-nuclear EMP ever produced and thank God it had been done in a lab where it couldn’t get out, as it would have created a blackout in the region. The fact he was alone and working late was a break. So he kept it his secret. That is until he told me how to continue his work.
The stealth technology research in James’s safe was a huge bonus as well, and Pablo created it to perfection both in the air and the water. Once he got his facility built to his satisfaction, the production started. At last count he had two hundred attack drones, one hundred EMP drones, and well over one hundred fish attack drones. Factor in the EMP canisters he has buried throughout the region and Pablo truly was “The Generalissimo.” All controlled by his little Anthill sycophants.
It was their moniker that inspired Pablo to make it a game they could relate to, the Fish being his favorite because of their uniqueness in the history of war. No one has ever fought a battle with the “Jesus Fish” before.
Little did the world powers know that the satellite is a sheep unlike any other the world had ever seen, and it is up there bleating and trying to get people to listen to the message that th
ere is a great change coming. But unlike other sheep, this one has red eyes and fights back for all its brothers and sisters when offended, all in the name of God. Why won’t they just listen to me? Why does it have to be this way? Obviously God’s Hands are at play here. Why can’t they see it before it’s too late and they do the wrong thing? The bleating sheep is benign to the world, unless molested.
Pablo was pretty sure he’d created the first computer that had been programmed to defend itself if attacked. Well not exactly, as I programmed it to continue attacking indefinitely. So technically, I created the first self-thinking killer computer. Once attacked, it would then become the hostile until every other threat, such as other satellites, missiles, and crafts were completely incapacitated.
Nothing could stop it. It had no fuel to run out of, it just keeps adjusting coordinates until the next kill came. None of this mattered though if it was left alone. It would remain up in space bleating for the next hundred years, peacefully. If they attack it though, the earth is going back seventy years in a hurry. Say goodbye to Global Telecommunications! Of course Pablo alone knew all this was just the sleight-of-hand trick. While they were watching the satellite show in his right hand, the knife was going in the World’s back with the left—and it wouldn’t be a flesh wound.
* * *
“Bravo leader One to Bravo Base, we are in position at eighty thousand feet.”
“Bravo leader One, you have permission to fire.”
Commander Bradshaw was getting used to the modifications. First of all, he had a missile directly under the centerline of the plane instead of the wings; these ASATs were big mothers at over eleven hundred pounds. The other modification was new directional cueing that came through the pilot’s heads-up display—a modification any pilot would appreciate as he pulled the stick back and vertically launched the missile up into space.
* * *
“Hey, good looking,” Vera came up and put her arms around him.
“Hey, Baby.” He turned and really kissed her. She loved that about him, that he hadn’t forgotten how important kissing was.
And the Meek Shall Inherit (Harbinger of Change Book 2) Page 5
