Legacy: An Event Group Thriller

by David L. Golemon

  Niles walked over and kneeled down. He looked into Lee’s one good eye.

  “What are you doing here? You should be at home and in bed.” He patted Lee on the knee. He looked from his former boss to Alice, who couldn’t hold his gaze for long. She looked down at her feet.

  “One last romp around the park,” Lee said and looked at Niles. His eye never wavered. “No fool like an old fool.”

  Niles smiled and straightened. He turned to face Jack and Carl.

  “I’m sorry, I never liked keeping things from you and you know that. But this … this thing is far beyond my scope. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn. So I let the president talk me into secrecy. And I will keep my word on that. Until he gives me the go-ahead, I cannot tell you everything.”

  The others looked down, as they understood Niles was just following orders. They could see in his face, his very demeanor, that keeping things from them was driving him close to the edge. Jack for his part watched the man and decided that he would wait to push him on the issue, but he also knew that the closer Sarah and the others got to the surface of the Moon, the more hard pressed he would be not to make Niles talk.

  “What are we doing about the people responsible for the attacks?” Jack asked instead.

  “The FBI and Interpol have arrest warrants out for your friend McCabe and the Reverend Rawlins. We also know that the good minister has ties with Iran through his ministry and McCabe has his al Qaeda contacts. Thus, we know where some of the manpower came from. The bad news is we can’t find them. They caught the attack team at Cape Canaveral, but they aren’t talking—three Saudis and one Syrian.”

  “What’s the Pentagon saying about the forces covering Ecuador?” Everett asked.

  “That’s a major concern and one of the reasons I’m here. The president wants to know what you’ll need to get into that mountain. If the mission on the Moon fails, Columbus is our only hope.”

  “Again, not knowing the full details of the true mission here, I will only venture a guess,” Jack said, as he stood and paced inside the old building. “Either we need a full air assault element, maybe the 101st Airborne, or just what we have here. Either not enough or too many. How high a price is the president willing to pay?”

  “He’ll mortgage the house, Jack. Whatever you call for to get in there, he’ll give you. Ecuador is our friend, there is no doubt about that, but the president will burn them down to get at Columbus, and the rest of the world’s leaders will stand by and do nothing.”

  “Just what in hell is that important?” Everett asked. “That we’d kick the hell out of a small country for no reason other than they have something buried here that we want?”

  “That’s the entire point, Captain,” Niles said, almost losing his temper. “We don’t just want it, we need it.”

  “Well, we’ll see if we can avoid killing a bunch of innocent soldiers and get inside the place the old-fashioned way,” Collins said, turning Everett away from Compton. He looked at Sebastian. “What do you say, my German friend. Feel like preventing an invasion of Ecuador?”

  “Can we eat first?” Sebastian said, and he and his men laughed.

  “What did you bring us to eat, Doc?” Collins asked Ellenshaw.

  “Beans and rice,” he said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

  Jack and the others looked at Crazy Charlie and didn’t say a word.

  “Hey, it’s not like they have a McDonald’s on every corner in Ecuador.”

  INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION, UNITED STATES LABORATORY SECTION, CODE-NAMED DESTINY

  Will and Jason eased themselves in through the five-foot round hatch. It had been several hours since they had not felt the free-falling weightless phenomenon known as the “floats.” The condition is relatively short-lived and the stomach usually falls back into its normal pattern after some time in the weightless world of space. As they entered the American laboratory named Destiny, they saw that Sarah was busy working with something she had carried in a small case the entire time they had been away from the Event Group complex.

  “The colonel says we’re as ready as we’re ever going to be.”

  Sarah looked up without really seeing Mendenhall.

  “Hey, you with us?” he asked, looking from Sarah and then back to Ryan, shrugging his shoulders.

  “He says we’re ready for that slingshot thing around the Earth,” Ryan said, watching her closely. “Hey, wake up,” he finally said.

  Sarah blinked her eyes and then saw that Ryan was shaking her.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said finally, smiling. “I was lost there for a minute.”

  “Playing with rocks will do that to you,” Will said as he reached for the meteorite Sarah held in her hand. She pulled it away from him.

  “Don’t do that,” she said, her face etched in seriousness. “We’re in an almost pure oxygen environment.”

  “Hey, that isn’t one of those Pop Rocks, is it?” Ryan asked as he floated backward.

  “Yes, but unless you get it wet, it’s pretty safe. Sorry, Will, but if you had sweat on your hands … well, I don’t know if it would have set off the chain reaction, but being we’re in outer space and all…”

  Mendenhall looked from the stone in her hands to her face. “Don’t worry about it, but we better get moving.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and nodded. “Right, the old slingshot-around-the-Earth thing. Can’t wait.” She placed the meteorite back into its Styrofoam-encased box and then placed it in her jumpsuit. She pulled her Velcro-covered feet free of the floor.

  “What were you thinking when we floated in here? It was like you were in another world,” Ryan asked, following Sarah out of the laboratory.

  “The mineral—we’re overlooking something fundamental here and for the life of me I can’t figure out what it is.”

  “Well, you’ve got two days to figure it out. The colonel has decided on a straight-in approach to the Moon, following the same path as Astral. One orbit and then bam, we hit the surface.”

  Mendenhall nudged Ryan. “What do you mean, bam?”

  “You know, land,” Ryan said with a wink.

  “Have you heard anything about the Chinese?”

  “Eighteen hours till they land,” Ryan said, as he slowed and waited for Will to slide by him in the companionway.

  “Jesus, we’re so far behind,” Sarah said as she pulled herself into the exercise module where the rest of the crew was waiting.

  “Next time I’ll just close up that hatch and leave you three here,” Colonel Kendal said as he stood poised beside a map of Shackleton Crater.

  “Apologies, I was making some last-minute spectrographs on the mineral.”

  “No excuse. When I call a meeting that means come running.” Kendal’s demeanor softened and he shook his head. “Now, with the docking procedures completed, and Altair joined with the Dark Star 3 crew module and capsule, we’re finally ready. You’ve all had a great meal of MREs, freeze-dried though they are, so we’ll leave now while we have a favorable launch window. In two days we’ll be where we want to be. Sergeant, are your men ready for whatever we may run into?”

  “I believe so, sir. The Chinese, if it comes down to it, can’t be that much more prepared than ourselves. Loaded onboard the Altair we have ten compressed-air M-39 rocket-assisted projectile weapons. We are not carrying any explosive ordnance due to the instability of the mineral. Intelligence reports state that the Chinese forces, like the ESA team and the Russians, if they ever get there, will be armed with basically the same weapons.”

  Sarah thought the Special Forces sergeant looked extremely young. But then again so did Will Mendenhall. She half smiled at Will when he gave her a sad look.

  “That makes the odds pretty much even if the Chinese turn out to be unfriendly. Well, we do have one advantage. The Chinese have made their own mistakes. They cannot adjust their orbit because of fuel loss. So that means they have to land over a hundred miles from Shackleton. That gives us a fig
hting chance at getting there first. Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to land two hundred feet from the edge of Shackleton. Dangerous, but I think my copilot, Mr. Ryan, and I can do it.”

  Ryan looked over at Will and Sarah and then smiled broadly. They knew that look as the we’re all going to die look from years past.

  “Okay, the Russians have their systems back online, but they won’t be able to launch for another twenty-four hours. So, that leaves us the damaged Astral lander of the European Space Agency, and the Magnificent Dragon to contend with. I believe our Altair is the best craft running this little race. I know we can do this. So, let’s go to the Moon.”

  As the flight team started to file out toward the docking collar, Sarah floated aside to let men and women pass her. She started thinking. She felt the small box with the meteorite inside and then she looked out of the small porthole. The Earth was there, and she could even see South America. She said a prayer for Jack, Carl, and the others. Still, the thought of the small rock she carried bothered her. The keyword she knew was “meteorite.” She said it over and over again. Then, Will Mendenhall pulled on her sleeve.

  “Hey, you want to get left behind?” he asked.

  Sarah didn’t say anything. She just floated by Will and into the sleeve that connected the ISS with the crew module of Dark Star.

  “I was hoping you were going to say yes, because I would have stayed with you.”

  Will watched as Sarah went inside. He grimaced at the thought of leaving for the Moon.

  “Nobody ever listens to me.”

  AMBASSADOR HOTEL, QUITO, ECUADOR

  The hotel was virtually a fortress as the security element of Faith Ministries moved in. All sixteen floors were occupied by men paid half of what they were owed. Five hundred mercenaries from every continent on the globe had been assembled to augment the security force already in place. The Ecuadorian Armed Forces were still on the fence about falling in line. The president of the United States was bringing pressure to bear on the leaders of the small country through the Organization of American States to open up the mine for general inspection. Since the mine was privately owned by a German firm and another firm registered as an Ecuadorian mining concern, the legalities were such that Ecuador could debate the problem for years and still not come to a final legal determination of the rights of the owners. Little did anyone know the owners were inside the hotel and weren’t about to give up any of their rights of possession.

  Samuel Rawlins, replete with white scarf, jungle boots, and tan working clothes designed for him by a prestigious tailor in New York, paced the large suite on the topmost floor of the Ambassador. He knew the time would come when he had to relinquish all his holdings, including Faith Ministries; he just never thought it would happen so suddenly. After seventy years of hiding the artifacts from the world, all of his work and all of his father’s work before him had unraveled so fast that he was having a hard time believing it had happened at all.

  Former Special Forces Colonel James McCabe sat on the large couch and picked some nonexistent lint from his pants. He looked into the corner of the suite and saw the suitcases. They held a new life for him. As of this moment, he was no longer involved with the good Reverend and his scheme to keep mankind in the dark about its past. His job was done, his reward sitting in sixteen different banks around the world. His new uniform was tucked nicely into the brand-new suitcases awaiting him. Bosnia-Herzegovina, a nonextradition country with a deep hatred for the West, was allowing McCabe to take a new post in their government under an assumed name and with a new, surgically altered face. And they were allowing him to keep the $1.2 billion as reward for a job well done. He knew he would leave as soon as a loose thread was snipped away from the fabric of his new life.

  “If I had the expertise, I would lead the defense of the mine myself,” Rawlins said, as he placed a hand on his daughter’s cheek. She covered his with her own and looked up at the ridiculously dressed Reverend. “As it is, I have to bow to the expert.”

  “If that attack comes at all,” Laurel said as her eyes went to McCabe, who raised his brows and smiled.

  “Oh, it’ll come. It will come just as sure as your death is imminent.”

  “But the manner of my death will bring martyrdom to my cause,” Rawlins said, starting to go off on another tangent. “My two daughters will inherit my wealth, my ideals, and my love of the Lord. Why, they’ll—”

  “Be dead right alongside you,” McCabe said. “Your wealth will be frozen.” McCabe stood and walked toward a large window that looked out over the city. “Your church and your industries will be destroyed and dismantled. Your legacy will be disgraced. The country—hell, the world—will not soon forget the murderer of heroes. It seldom ever does.”

  “And you walk away clean? Is that it?” Laurel asked, looking far more confident than McCabe thought she had a right to.

  “Let’s just say I walk away. You will not.” He turned to face Rawlins and Laurel. He placed his hands in his pants pockets, shaking his head. “It started coming apart when you decided to play assassin, a job you’re not very good at. I told you that attacking the president was a mistake, but you decided you knew better than me. No matter the politics of the time, Americans don’t care for people who try to kill a sitting president. Your second mistake was trusting in the Mechanic. By triggering his Jihad mentality, you have awakened a dormant desire inside of him to bring down the unbelievers.” He smiled and looked directly at Rawlins. “And that includes you. To him you are nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a user of the true believers—one who would kill his own people in the pursuit of placing your faith above that of all others.

  “You still control the towel head,” Rawlins stated, his anger growing.

  “These men here in this hotel, the ones at the mine, they’re not my men. They’re his.” McCabe placed a hand on Laurel’s shoulder and squeezed. “Amateurs, that’s what you are. Your zeal for protecting your faith against a real truth was never the real issue, just one that you could grasp. For the Mechanic it’s the only issue. The discoveries buried in those mines are what will drive him much further than even you could conceive. Bringing Operation Columbus into the light of day may be a casus belli for you to take upon yourself as an affront to your religion, your way of belief, but the Mechanic believes it is a true affront to God. And while you consider yourself a mouthpiece for the Lord, dear Reverend, he believes he is a true messenger of God.” He laughed and removed his hand from Laurel’s shoulder. “That is why he was so easily recruited by me. He lost his faith when his superiors lacked the willpower to take the fight to the unbelievers. He sought money, but then Laurel got him to thinking again. He despises you and your father so much that you actually made him whole again with your scheming.”

  “I have him believing that he needs me and our resources,” Laurel said with a smirk.

  This time McCabe laughed out loud.

  “Needs you? My dear you are dealing with a man who was in on the planning for 9/11. Your pretty little face was mere inches away from a cold-blooded killer who ordered the decapitation of women and children for accepting food from American soldiers in Afghanistan. He is the man who has taken over your little plan, a plan that I conceived and made possible.” McCabe walked toward the suitcases in the far corner. “And now you’ll have to deal with him yourself, Laurel my dear.” He picked up two of the suitcases and turned. “Because there is a man on the loose who is relentless in his pursuit of what he thinks is right, and I just gave him something he wants and needs—a warning of your intentions. Colonel Jack Collins is an old acquaintance of mine, and besides wanting to see me again, he would truly love to meet you two and the Mechanic.”

  “You have betrayed us?” Rawlins said as he stood aghast.

  “Betrayed? Yes, I guess I have, but in the end I think we’ll all get what we deserve.”

  Laurel stood and made her way to the door. She paused before opening it for McCabe.

  “I suspect
we will all get what the Lord has planned for us,” she said as she opened the door.

  McCabe started to walk forward and then stopped suddenly when he saw who was standing in the doorway. The Mechanic had a pistol leveled at the American. He stepped in and closed the door. His eyes were dull, as though he were going about a task that was necessary but beneath him.

  “I guess some of us will get what’s deserved far sooner than others,” Laurel said as she eased her arm around the Mechanic.

  “What is this? Daughter, step away from that man.”

  McCabe lowered his suitcases and looked from Laurel to the dull-eyed Mechanic. The man had shaved and his clothes were plain. Gone was the white suit and the white shirt. He looked like any Ecuadorian businessman after a day at work, and that was when McCabe knew he hadn’t moved fast enough.

  “I guess his God wouldn’t want you mixing with a true believer,” McCabe said, looking from Laurel to Rawlins.

  “Reverend, I am taking control of the mines. The Americans will not be allowed to view its contents before my people take what it has to offer for our own aims.”

  “I hate to say I told you so, but—”

  The Mechanic shot McCabe three times in rapid succession. The American took two steps back and then slid down in front of the couch. As he did, Laurel gasped at the suddenness of her former lover’s death. Panic gripped her when the Mechanic reached around and removed her arm from him.

  “You will never touch me again.” He aimed the pistol three feet to his right and then he looked at Laurel, who had stepped back.

  “What? I did as you requested. The accounts have been transferred to your banks, you have the money that McCabe was collecting from us, and you have my father’s money as well. You owe me everything,” Laurel said, looking at the smoking weapon held by the Mechanic.

  “I suppose I owe you a debt of gratitude. You have not only awakened in me the true calling for which I was chosen, but also a sense of what the West is about. Your love of killing is not a thing that is warranted through the laws of God, but by the law and the need for money.” He leveled the pistol at Laurel. “You and your father are on the right track in dealing with your countrymen, but you must realize that the extreme has not yet been reached. The mine holds the scientific means to lead God’s children down their chosen path, the bodies you describe may give rise to doubt in his infinite word of how our world was created, but with the power of the ancient weaponry and a Jihad the likes of which the world has never seen, those untruths shall be destroyed and forgotten. My people will be the guardians of the ancient technology. Your father should have buried the truth long ago, but now it is far too late.”