by JC Ryan
Ever since they were able to start following the media in the world outside the cave, they had trained the translator to be able to translate between their own language and every other language which they could receive on their devices.
He returned to the table with the translator hanging from a lanyard around his neck, fitted one around Robert’s neck and said, “Welcome.”
“I am glad you got through the procedure. Are you in any pain Tawndo? Shall I get Linkola and Siasha?”
“No, I am not in pain. I am not, Tawndo. I am Robert.”
Korda blinked.
“I know what has happened, and I want to help. Please let me out of these restraints. I won’t hurt you.”
“I’m not supposed to do that until Linkola and Siasha say it’s ok.”
“Yes, I know. In that case, perhaps you should bring them here.”
Korda nodded, but as he turned toward the door, the two of them walked in.
“He’s awake! But he speaks only English; I will get you each a translator.”
They rushed to join Korda at Robert’s side.
Korda handed them each a translator which they hung around their necks.
“Tawndo! How do you feel?” Siasha asked excitedly.
“With my fingers,” Robert replied dryly.
Siasha frowned; that wasn’t Tawndo.
“Now, let me out of here,” he commanded.
THAT was Tawndo, she brightened again and leaned to kiss him, but he turned his face away.
“Tawndo?”
“I am not Tawndo,” he replied tightly. “I am Robert Cartwright. Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said and turned away quickly. She had her hand over her mouth, and her shoulders were shaking with telltale grief as she hurried from the room.
The three men watched her leave. “Don’t worry Robert; she will be alright. I will check on her later.”
Robert nodded, a shadow in his eyes, “See that you do. Now, let me out of these things,” he demanded.
There was definitely something of the soldier and commander that once was Tawndo in Robert, but Linkola noted a softening in his eyes and the set of his chin. Upon release from the restraints, his stance and stride were altered as well. Some of him was Tawndo, but most of him was not Tawndo.
“I suppose you have many questions …” Linkola began.
“No,” Robert responded bluntly, “I don’t.”
Tawndo again.
Speaking in a more relaxed tone he added, “Thanks to your ‘Tawndo’, I know all about you, this facility,” he gestured around him, “the B’ran, Re’an, the L’gundo, Tunguska, The Healer, Viktor, and all the rest.
“I can’t say that I’m happy with what you’ve done to me; you had no right,” he added brusquely. The next moment he was calm again and spoke softly, “However, what is done is done; I must accept it and move on.”
Linkola and Korda looked at one another. The personality obviously had not stabilized yet. Would it get worse, or better? Which one is going to be the dominant one? They both wondered and worried.
“I would like to examine you … Robert,” Linkola said. “I want to make sure you are healthy, and I’d like to take another brain scan if you’ll allow it.”
Robert tensed as if to object and then relaxed, “Of course … the experiments. You need to make sure my brain is stabilizing and not deteriorating. I’ll cooperate,” he added as he sat down on the diagnostic table.
Linkola sighed with relief and prepared Robert and the equipment for the scan. Korda assisted.
“This won’t hurt a bit, Robert.”
“I know. Just get on with it,” he growled.
The three of them were silent while the scanner ran.
“Well, your body is healthy,” reported Linkola. “Heart rate, respiration, blood pressure, and adrenaline levels are all normal.”
“What about my brain?”
“I think it is too early to say for certain, but it does appear to be in good working order. I don’t see any damage or anything unusual. Your synaptic pattern appears to be redeveloping rapidly.”
“And Tawndo?”
“His pattern is there, but not quite as strong as I was expecting. Perhaps, if you don’t mind, we can run the scan again tomorrow? It will give me a better idea of what is happening.”
Robert nodded. “I believe the reason why you brought me back is to contact my friends at the Rossler Foundation?”
Linkola nodded.
“Well if this merge was a success I think we should get started on that. For some reason, I have the feeling there is some crisis heading our way which is why we did this. Is that correct?”
“Yes, there is a major threat to us,” Linkola replied, “that’s why you agreed to the merge. It has never been done before. You are a very brave man. And yes, I agree, we should get started as quickly as possible—as soon as we can be sure that the merge has worked. It will take a few days before we will know for sure, but once it’s confirmed, who do you think would be the best person to contact at the Rossler Foundation?”
Jumping down from the table, Robert slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “My old mate JR! I’m going to see my old buddy JR!” he said with an eager laugh and clapped Linkola on the shoulder.
Robert. No doubt.
Chapter 82- Finalizing the plan
The news about the protest march to the White House reached Daniel and his team through their Tectus contacts who were participating in its planning.
Sam, Jack, and a few others made a quick analysis of the most likely scenario that could develop during such a march. The White House Secret Services agents and any other security forces that Hayden could muster would probably be focused on the defense of the White House. In all likelihood, most staff would have been sent home to get them out of the way, which would leave Hayden’s personal protection detail at a minimum. It was the ideal time to make their move on the White House.
The strategy they developed, if they couldn’t stop the march, was to bring the crowd close enough to the White House to be a threat, but keep them out of effective bullet range of Hayden’s forces. It was one of those things that was easier said than done—crowd behavior was unpredictable at best and almost impossible to control without using force. This was not going to be a protest march down Pennsylvania Avenue to make a few inflammatory speeches and hand over a petition—the people’s hunger, frustration, and desperation were going to aggravate the situation. It was going to turn violent—there was no doubt about it.
At the same time, Baum and Stillwater decided to disappear, word came in from Tectus that the pressure from the people to start the march immediately was mounting by the hour and that the organizers were not able to put the march off much longer—it was going to happen that night.
Daniel immediately cleared his schedule and asked Sam to gather the operations team for a final briefing before swinging into action.
An hour later everyone was in the meeting, some at Raven Rock, Dennis and Eric had dialed in from their lair, Sam and the rest were in the war room at the Rabbit Hole.
“Okay, everyone let’s get going,” Sam started. “Eric, do you have a time for when the march will start?”
“Yes, it’s scheduled to start at 7pm, at West Potomac Park near the Martin Luther King Junior monument, about two miles from the White House. From there they will march to the West side of the Washington Monument, which they will reach at about 7:30. There they’ll make some speeches and rally the crowd for about an hour before marching to the White House. And that is the part that is worrisome.”
“You’ve made the organizers aware of Hayden’s orders to use live ammo and his shoot-to-kill instructions?” Sam asked.
“Yes, we did, “Eric sighed, “and we had a lot of arguments about the wisdom of proceeding with the march in light of the dangers. Alas, they are going ahead with the march—the people are desperate. The best Eric and I could do was to convince them to app
oint crowd-marshals to try and keep them out of range of the firearms, which Hayden’s men would be carrying, and try to stop them from storming the White House.
“Sam, we’re deeply worried that innocent people are going to die tonight and there is very little we can do to prevent it.”
Sam looked at Roy and nodded.
“I might be able to assist with that,” Roy said. “A while ago I equipped a few of our drones with microwave beam generators to be used against crowds if required.
“What I have is not new technology. However, it might be the first time it is mounted on drones. The technology has been around for more than a decade, known by names such as Active Denial System or heat ray. It is non-lethal and will only heat the skin of the people in the crowd stepping over a demarcated line.
“They will feel their skin heating up very quickly. It will be very uncomfortable, but they won’t sustain burn wounds, and I can assure you, once they’ve experienced it, they will toe the line - maybe even lose interest.”
Sam grinned. “Eric, Dennis, any problems with Roy’s suggestion?”
“Absolutely not! That’s a godsend,” Eric replied.
“Excellent. You and Roy will just have to figure out where you want to establish those no-trespassing lines and he will see to it that the area between that line and the White House remains no-man’s land.”
Roy and Eric nodded.
“I’d suggest no closer than the middle of the ellipse … keep them on the South side of it.” Eric suggested.
Sam nodded, “Fine, show Roy where you want it,” and turned toward Jack.
“Jack you’re next. Step us through the plan as it stands now.”
Jack explained how he and Dennis McMahon, the ex-Navy SEAL and second in command of Tectus, would each head up a team. Dennis’s team consisting of twenty-five former SEALs, Delta Force operators, Army Rangers, and Recon Marines would be responsible for neutralizing the Secret Service Agents and any other security forces on the outside of the White House and prevent them from reentering.
Jack and his team, consisting of JR, Aaron, Mouse, Kerinski, and a few former Secret Service agents, was responsible for neutralizing the people inside of the White House and getting a hold of Hayden.
Daniel and two Secret Service Agents would accompany Jack’s group but would be kept in hiding in one of the tunnels until the White House was secured. As was expected, this idea did not come without pushback from Daniel. He wanted to be part of the action.
“So, what are you saying?” He had objected when Jack first introduced that part of the plan a few days ago. “You want me to say something like; ‘follow me, I’m right behind you?’ Not going to happen, Jack. I’m going in with you and the team.”
Jack knew better than to argue with him and had turned the matter over to the full leadership group at the next morning’s meeting.
It took half an hour, but in the end, they convinced Daniel, first by pleading with him to be reasonable, and when that didn’t work by threatening to lock him up with Hayden’s cabinet and come and get him when it was all over.
Daniel gave up in frustration but got the last word. “It’s obvious you jackasses have conspired against me. Be warned; I intend to deal with you on my first day in office.” He had smiled wryly.
“Promises, promises. Didn’t take you long to learn political speak, did it?” Sinclair quipped as everyone started laughing.
Sam was smiling now as he reflected about that little exchange for a moment before he continued. “Salome, Nigel, you’re next. Take us through your part of the plan.”
Salome explained that they were still monitoring every move and every conversation taking place between Hayden and his staff. And it was no surprise to hear that Hayden was on the brink of total collapse from exhaustion and insanity.
“It’s not going to take much to push him over the edge,” she said, Rebecca nodding in agreement. “His condition is deteriorating rapidly; the disappearance of his last cabinet members has all but cracked him.”
Rebecca continued. “However, as desirable as it might seem to push him the last bit, we have to be very careful. We have no idea what he might be capable of if he enters into a state of psychosis—he can cause unimaginable damage and destruction, killing many innocent people—much like a suicide bomber.”
“Jack, it is imperative that you and your team take him as quickly as humanly possible,” Sam commented.
Jack nodded. “Yes, absolutely. Salome has an idea, which might help to get him isolated right from the start.”
Everyone was looking at her to explain.
“We’ll let Nguyen appear to him within the next few hours to advise him. You’ll remember that he is Hayden’s most trusted confidant and friend. The man who we suspect was responsible for the killing of George Miller to open the way for Hayden to become president. We also suspect that he had a hand in the killing of the former Secretaries of Agriculture and Energy, Richard Westfield and Hank McMillian as well as the death of Bob Thompson former Secretary of Homeland Security and probably also Carrie Trent.”
“But I got the impression when listening to Hayden’s mad ravings the other day that he is going to kill Nguyen for abandoning him,” Nigel said.
Salome grinned. “Not if Nguyen appears to him from the dead.”
“Ah, okay,” Nigel chuckled. “I would certainly like to see that meeting when it takes place,” Nigel said.
Sam, ran down the checklist to make sure that everyone understood what was expected of him or her and that they had all the equipment they would need. Raj and his team had already set up, configured, and tested the communications systems to make sure they could be in touch with each group throughout the attack.
Roy was busy double-checking that everyone was sure how to operate his gadgets when Salome interrupted.
“Sorry Roy, I just got word that Hayden is having a session with advisors and the Secret Service agents in two hours, to plan their strategy to defend the White House during the march tonight.
“We should get Nguyen in front of Hayden before that meeting.”
“Agreed” Sam responded. “Have you got your holographic movie set ready for that?”
“Yep,” Salome nodded. “We’ve just been waiting for the right moment.”
“It still beats me how you and the propeller-heads have made that work. But don’t bother to explain, can’t afford any brain damage until this is over, I need every brain cell in good working order.” Sam grinned, the rest of the elders laughed and agreed with him.
Chapter 83- To advise you as best I can
Forty-Five minutes later, Hayden paced the Oval Office deep in thought, strategizing his defense of the White House during the protest march planned for later in the evening.
He did his best to maintain his macho appearance in front of the staff, but when he was alone he was a nervous wreck, and he knew it.
There wasn’t much governing he could do at this point, and his top priority was saving his own skin. He needed the White House protected - he wanted himself protected.
His own pacing began to irritate him, so he returned to his desk and sat down to prepare for the meeting.
Studying maps of the streets and buildings around the White House captured his attention, so he didn’t notice at first when General Lucas Nguyen appeared near the fireplace out of nowhere. His skin began to itch and then crawl as the feeling of being watched washed over him. He looked up, saw Nguyen, and let out a high-pitched scream.
Nguyen smiled, “Hello, Mr. President!”
“I’ll kill you!” Hayden screamed as he stormed toward Nguyen. “Where the hell have you been?” he shrieked. “I’m going to kill you, you son-of-a-bitch,” as he reached for Nguyen’s throat to strangle him.
To his horror his hands passed right through the man and with a sudden understanding, he realized Nguyen was dead - a ghost. “Oh, my God!” he whispered, withering even as he spoke. “You’re dead! When did it happen? How did it happen?
”
“After our last meeting, I left your office and went out for a couple of drinks. I was kidnapped and held in custody by a group of malcontents that don’t like the way you were doing things. They thought I might be a handy piece of merchandise to have at the ‘right’ time … whenever that was.”
Hayden slumped into his chair and stared at Nguyen while he continued to explain.
“They kept me alive until about an hour ago, when those crazy people who are organizing the march tonight stormed the place where I was being held and killed me.”
“So why are you here now?” Hayden asked quietly.
“To offer you help and to advise you as best I can. Now that I’m dead, I’m not bound by time; I can see into the past and the future.”
Hayden’s confused and troubled mind grabbed at the information like a drowning man. “So, you know exactly how this is going to go down tonight?” he asked as if he were sitting in front of the Oracle of Delphi.
“Not exactly. When it comes to time and how things happen, it’s like coming to a fork in a road—where you end up depends on which road you choose to follow. In other words, there is more than one possible outcome.”
Back at Raven Rock and the Rabbit Hole, the audience spent the next thirty minutes following a deep philosophical discussion between Hayden and Nguyen about death and the concept of time, frequently shaking their heads at Salome and Rebecca’s fertile imaginations.
“So,” Nguyen said, “there are three possible outcomes. In one, you are arrested and Rossler takes over as President. In another, you are killed by the mob and Rossler takes over as President. In the last scenario, the crowd never reaches the White House, they are peacefully dispersed, and you remain in power as President.
Hayden leaned forward in his chair at the mention of the third possibility. “So, tell me, how can I make that third option happen?”
“Yes, I thought you’d like that option best. Well, you will need to …” and Hayden’s face turned from despair to triumph as he listened carefully to Nguyen telling him in great detail how that option would play out and exactly what he, Hayden, had to do to make sure it was the option that would prevail.
