by Karl Morgan
"So, no one ever found the man hit by the car, and the shooter disappeared too," Andy confirmed. "All we have is this dead guy, and he's the one who sabotaged Air Force One."
"Sir, I mentioned that the reports didn't make much sense," Stan replied.
"Is that it?" Andy asked.
"Almost, Mr. Vice President," Stan replied. "The man was also seen at the site of the cartel gunfight in Mexico and also attacked the Sacred Life Tranquility Retreat in Maui. It seemed he had a grudge on Ezekiel Thompson, but somehow Thompson got the better of him."
"You see, Frank, I told you Thompson was in this up to his neck!" Andy exclaimed. "Thank you, Agent Morgan."
"There is one problem sir. Air Force One was sabotaged on November 14. This man was shot dead in San Diego on October 4. The faces match, but we don't know what to make of the time anomaly," Stan said.
"There has to be a mistake somewhere?" Andy asked.
"We are still checking, sir. Thank you, Mr. Vice President and Mr. Secretary," Stan said and then walked out of the room.
When they were alone, Frank asked, "Andy, if this saboteur was trying to kill Thompson, doesn't that mean Thompson is innocent?"
"Don't be stupid, Frank," Andy growled. "I think Thompson and that man were partners. If they fought at all, it was probably for deniability if they got caught. I think we need to send Thompson to hell with his buddy very soon."
"Andy, he is on US soil. He is entitled to justice."
"Just like the justice he offered to the people in Brazil or those on Air Force One, right? That bastard deserves to die and the sooner the better."
"But how could that man sabotage the plane when he's in a morgue in San Diego?" Frank queried.
"I don't know what is going on anymore, Frank, and I don't really care. The time to act has arrived."
§
Zeke sat chained in a metal chair facing the two CIA agents across the small table. This was the same room where the vice president had cajoled and threatened him just yesterday. "Good morning, Mr. Thompson," Agent Brian Lewis said. "I trust you slept well."
"No, I did not sleep at all. Your boss has already told me I'm going to die here, so why should I tell you anything?" he replied.
"What are you talking about, Mr. Thompson?" Agent Tom Bradley asked.
"Were you two on the other side of the mirror when he interrogated me yesterday?" Zeke asked. Both men nodded. "Obviously you know he turned off the microphones and sat with his back to the mirror so you couldn't read his lips."
"Is there a point to this, Mr. Thompson?" Lewis asked.
"He accused me of being an Iranian spy and said I would be killed by lethal injection very soon. I didn't do anything and there is not one shred of evidence that I was involved in any wrongdoing," Zeke said.
Lewis and Bradley exchanged worried glances. "Excuse us a minute, Mr. Thompson," Lewis said and the two walked out of the room and closed the door. Zeke sighed and hung his head. "Do you think Thompson is serious, Tom?"
"Look at this guy, Brian," Bradley replied. "He's a young kid just out of college. Everything he has said had checked out. There are no records of him leaving the country other than when the two cartels kidnapped him from federal custody."
"Tom, when the vice president muted the microphone, everything was still recorded, wasn't it?"
"Of course, everything is captured on tape. That's the only way we can be sure there are no double-agents here," Bradley answered. "But if you think the brass will let us listen to a private conversation by the vice president, you're crazy."
"Well, I have to try to get someone to listen to that conversation, even if it's only the director," Lewis replied. "If what Thompson said is true, we have a real situation on our hands."
"Let's finish our interrogation and then you can do whatever you want, Brian. Just keep me out of it, okay?" The two walked back into the room and sat across from Zeke.
"The director won't listen to the tape for days, and I'll already be dead," Zeke said.
"Could you hear us from in here?" Lewis gasped.
"No, but I know that Tony won't listen to the recording for a week. There's too much red tape to expedite anything around here."
"But how do you know that?" Bradley asked.
"I see things in the future sometimes," Zeke replied. "If you understood what that means, you'd know why I'm in this mess right now."
"Let's drop that discussion where it is," Lewis said. He picked up a manila folder on the table and leafed through the papers inside. "Mr. Thompson, we have proof that someone did tamper with Air Force One, leading to the catastrophic crash. These images were taken from a security camera inside the hangar." He put three photos on the table facing Zeke and asked, "Do you recognize this man?"
Zeke was flabbergasted by what he saw. "Untor?" he squeaked.
"What does that mean, Mr. Thompson? Is that a name?" Bradley asked.
"Yes, his name was Fola Untor, but you won't believe me if I tell you about him," Zeke replied.
"Why did you say his ‘name was’ instead of ‘name is,’ Mr. Thompson?" Lewis asked.
"He's dead, right? Shot in the head in San Diego a month ago."
"I'm not going to follow that line right now. Why would this Untor fellow want to kill the president of the United States? Was he a nut case of a foreign agent?" Lewis asked.
"He was both actually," Zeke chuckled. "I was told he came from another galaxy." The two agents frowned but kept taking notes. "He came back in time to change our history and start a global nuclear war sooner than it is supposed to start."
Bradley glanced at Lewis and then turned to Zeke, "There is supposed to be a nuclear war? What evidence do you have of that?"
"None. Someone told me those things. So far, everything she told me is coming true."
"I suppose this female you mention also comes from the future?" Lewis questioned.
"Of course," Zeke replied. "But the police in San Diego can get the evidence you need to corroborate my story. Have them do a full autopsy on the body including DNA screening. What they'll find will blow everyone's minds."
"Why should we believe you about this man?" Bradley asked.
"I guess I don't really care since the vice president is going to kill me soon," Zeke sighed. "But when the missiles land in Iran and the Russians and Chinese retaliate, then you'll understand. But then it will be too late for Earth. Within a few years, every sign of life will be gone."
The two agents looked at each other. Lewis said, "Mr. Thompson, clearly you are either a prophet or clinically insane. Since there is no evidence of life on other planets or time travel, I suppose you can guess which way I tend to believe."
"Mr. Thompson, where are your parents?" Bradley asked.
"What? What happened to them?"
"They were at their home in Maui. Two FBI agents were sent to take them into custody. When they got no response, they entered the residence and found it vacant. Where did they go?" Bradley asked.
"How would I know? I've been locked up here with no visitors or access to a phone," Zeke complained.
"You have to understand that their sudden disappearance is not good for your chances," Bradley continued. "What country do they work for, Mr. Thompson?"
"They don't work for anyone! My dad was just laid off from his career at Reliant Industries and my mother doesn't work outside the home," Zeke said.
"Let me guess," Lewis interjected. "Did they go into the future?"
"I suppose that is possible," Zeke replied.
The two agents laughed and stood up. "That's enough of your crap for today, Mr. Thompson. We'll take you to your cell now," Lewis replied.
"Get Tony to listen to the tape and have the police do the autopsy," Zeke said as they unchained him from the chair. "I'll be dead, but at least there is a chance that the war can be stopped if the evidence comes out."
"We'll see what we can do," Bradley said as they led him out of the room.
§
Zeke sa
t at the small table in his cell, pushing the food around on his plate with a plastic fork. He reached out to Bea with his mind. "Bea, are you there?" he thought.
"I'm here, Zeke," she replied.
"Are my parents safe?" he asked.
"Yes, they're at the Maui house with me in my time," she replied.
"Why did you do that, Bea?" he asked. "You know that gives them another reason to kill me right away. Do you want me dead?"
After a moment of silence, she thought, "I love you, Zeke. I will do everything I can to help, but things are complicated right now. Your time is spiraling toward war. If that happens, everyone will die and my future will cease to exist."
"What can I do, Bea? I'm just one man."
"Zeke, I'll come to you tonight with a surprise," she said. "Like I told your parents, the time line you're living through is different from what I was taught in school. In my history, President Nelson was not seriously injured in the crash and nobody else died. I'm surprised I still remember my education. After all of these changes, my memory should have changed as well."
"Well, Bea, the universe is a much more mysterious and magical place than most can imagine" Zeke said. "I do know why your history changed though."
"What?"
"It was Fola Untor again," he replied. "When I was being interrogated today, they showed me security camera images of him inside the wing of Air Force One."
"Oh my God, how much longer do we have to deal with that sick bastard?" she asked.
"He's dead now," Zeke replied. "Hopefully, there will be no more changes. I also have a theory about your history books. So much of the future is in flux right now that there is no definitive course. Once things normalize, your memory and the books will come into line."
"You could be right, Zeke. Sometimes, I think time travelers get so intertwined in different time lines that their brains hold on to bits that no longer exist."
"Tell me about the surprise, Bea," he said.
"You know they want you dead, right?" she asked. "We have to make them think they succeeded. Once they stop guarding your body, you can help me save the president's life and stop the war."
"You mean delay it."
"Yes, Zeke. We will delay the war. It's up to you and the rest of humanity to avoid it. There's only so much I can do."
"Thanks, Bea. Please give my love to my parents."
"I love you, Zeke. Goodbye."
Zeke looked at his plate and realized he had no appetite. What would happen next was anyone's guess. All he knew for certain was that he was about to die. He walked over to his cot and lay down, pulling the covers over his head.
Chapter 18
At 8:00 p.m., Zeke was led back to the interrogation room and chained down again. A television had been rolled in on a cart and an agent was fiddling with the controls. Zeke wanted nothing more than to end this nightmare. He prayed Bea would take him to her future as well, even though that might be short-lived. Somehow, she thought he was the only one to stop the vice president from starting a war, but he was nobody, locked up in a secret prison and about to be killed for doing nothing. His stomach growled and he also regretted missing his lunch. The door opened and the CIA director and the attorney general entered the room and sat down on either side of Zeke. The agent working the controls changed the channel, handed the remote to Tony Marshall and left the room. "I'm sorry about the shackles, Zeke, but those are the rules here," Tony said. "By the way, this is Attorney General Cynthia Travers. She's on our side too."
"I met the attorney general in Alaska. It's good to see you again, Cindy. I hope you pardon me for not getting up or shaking your hand," Zeke said demonstrating his limited range of motion in his shackles.
"Zeke, it's nice to see you again, too," she said. "Tony and I wanted to watch the vice president's address and get your thoughts."
Tony pressed the mute button as the newscaster announced the vice president. The scene switched to the Oval Office where Andrew Lake was seated at the president's desk. "Doesn't he have his own office?" Zeke asked. The others frowned at him and then turned back to the screen.
"My fellow Americans," Andy began. "I apologize for disrupting your evening again, but there is much new information I must share with you. I am certain many of you have seen the jubilant reaction of the Iranian people to their country's assault on President Nelson. I have never been more disgusted in my life. This rogue state must be held to account for its actions. Today, I was shown the following images of an Iranian agent inside the wing of Air Force One while it underwent standard maintenance.” The picture changed to the photos Zeke had seen earlier. “It is now clear that this man sabotaged that plane as part of an Iranian attempt to kill the US president. The leadership of that government has not denied it. In fact, they held rallies all over the country in support of the attack. Justice will be served.
“This saboteur was part of a sleeper cell of Iranian agents led by a man named Abraham Thompson of Hawaii. Mr. Thompson and his wife disappeared while under house arrest at their home and remain at large. Their son and daughter are currently in custody and being interviewed for more information. The son, Ezekiel Thompson, did identify the saboteur as Fola Untor. We are still working to find more evidence of their involvement, but rest assured, they are guilty and will be punished along with their leaders in Iran.
“Now I speak to the leadership of Iran and ask you to cease your campaign against the United States. If you do not, we will use military force, possibly including nuclear weapons to stop you.
“My friends, none of us want war, but we cannot sit idly by while terrorists attack our homeland. I urge each and every one of you to contact your representatives in the Congress and tell them to support us in this effort. May God continue to bless the United States of America. Good night." Tony turned off the set.
"Shit, we're in a lot of trouble!" Zeke exclaimed.
"Where are your parents, Zeke?" Cindy asked.
"Did either of you review my meeting with your agents earlier?"
"Yes, Zeke, but please don't expect us to believe your parents jumped into the future," Tony said. "This is reality, not some science fiction novel."
Zeke laughed. "Okay, let's do it your way. The house was surrounded by a lot of your agents. How many?"
"Twenty or so, I imagine," he replied.
"Neither of you are stupid. You have been briefed on my parents' backgrounds, travel history, income tax returns, and everything else. You know they are just normal, middle-aged people. How could they leave without anyone seeing them?"
"That's a good point," Cindy offered.
"Not really," Zeke interjected. "I've already been kidnapped twice because the federal agents in charge of me were crooked. Perhaps all of your agents at the house are on the Iranian payroll, or yet another drug lord. Maybe they sold my parents to the North Koreans in order to get me? Have you considered all of that?"
"We're performing an investigation of every possibility, Zeke," Cindy said.
"Personally, I think it's improbable that all of them are double agents," Zeke replied. "What are the odds that twenty crooked agents would randomly be assigned to guard my parents, one in a billion? You may not like my story of time travel, but compared to having a massive infiltration of enemy agents into the FBI, CIA and NSA, my story isn't so bad."
"He has a point, Cindy," Tony noted.
"That's just the tip of the iceberg, Tony." Zeke gestured toward the screen and continued, "Not only do you have mass numbers of double-agents in your teams, but that sick bastard had the audacity to call me an Iranian agent when there is zero proof."
"That's pretty strong language to use about the vice president," Cindy said.
"Did Lewis or Bradley ask you to review the audio of my meeting with Lake?" Zeke asked. "Both of you should listen to it. He threatened to kill me and will likely fulfill that threat in the next day or so, maybe even tonight while I sleep. When someone threatens me like that, I think I have the right to say whatever I
want about them."
Cindy sighed heavily and said, "Tell us what you think is going to happen, Zeke."
"You won't know this, but the team of doctors helping President Nelson was changed. The original lead doctor refused to continue the induced coma and said Nelson needed to be conscious to get better. Lake fired him and found another doctor who would recommend continuing the coma for at least two weeks. That gives Lake the time to launch a nuclear strike on Iran."
"How do you know any of that?" Tony asked.
"Check it out. Ask the original doctor before Congress subpoenas him. It doesn't matter because Lake is insane now. He thinks the Russians and Chinese won't intervene, but he's wrong. He will strike Iran. Then other countries will start with lots of saber rattling and arguing. Then the North Koreans will nuke Honolulu, the only major American city in their range. We'll retaliate, the others will jump in, and voila, instant Armageddon."
"You're just making this up," Cindy argued.
"It doesn't matter whether you believe me or not," Zeke replied. "I'm pretty sure Lake will kill me tomorrow. If that happens and you want to stop the end of the world, you have to wake the president. If he regains control before the first missiles are launched, he will stop it. Once the first rocket smashes into Tehran, the rest is set in stone and the end of the world is now."
"Zeke, I don't know whether you're a kook or a prophet," Cindy said. "I pray to God that you're a kook. Tony, check on what he told us and let me know as soon as possible."
"Okay, Cindy, I'll get on that right now. Zeke, the guard will take you back to your cell."
§
After returning to his cell, Zeke was too exhausted to think about his hunger. He sat with his head in his hands wondering how he got into such a mess. A part of him looked forward to death. If the world was about to be destroyed, it was better to die here before the mushroom clouds filled the skies and millions of innocents succumbed to radiation sickness. He climbed into bed and promptly fell asleep. At the guard station, a solitary agent watched Zeke sleeping, as there were no other prisoners in this facility. It was absolutely quiet and the guard's eyes closed for a moment.
