The Lost Power: VanOps, Book 1

by Avanti Centrae

  Then, all three of their phones chirped simultaneously. They looked at each other.

  “Sure, let’s see who it is.” Maddy looked at her screen.

  “Looks like an encrypted email.” She pushed a few buttons. “Let’s see. Aha! A video.”

  Maddy opened the video and positioned the phone so all three could watch it. The master and Nanda came into view, along with the Guardians and their friends. Dieter, Elena, and a few others from their time at the school were there, too.

  The master spoke, through Nanda. “Blessings, Maddy, William, and Bear Theodore. We’ve seen from the newspapers that the threat of the Russians getting the e-bomb fuel source is over and we know, from friends in Cairo, all about your role in this massive success.”

  He smiled, nodded, and paused to let Nanda catch up. Then he continued, with additional smiles. “I’d like to invite you to join our cause. Our Order, the Invisible Flame, has existed for over five hundred years to defend the world from those who pursue terror and bloodshed.”

  Maddy watched intently, delighted with the praise and the invitation.

  The master went on, “Maddy, you’ve passed all tests so are already part of the Order. Come join us. Will, you’d need some additional training and testing, but it wouldn’t take too long. Take as much time as you like to decide. We’ll be here, under the Dome of the Rock, since the Popa Monastery location was exposed. We will hold a space for love and peace in the world at the intersection of three of the world’s main religions. Come join us if you will.”

  Wild applause erupted from all those around the master. They were cheering! All of them were cheering. Her heart soared. Huge smiles played across the faces of Will and Bear.

  The video over, she put the phone down and picked up her glass. “A toast! To Alexander, Ramiro, the ancestors who defined our past, and to the choices of our future.”

  As the sun nestled between the hills to the west, they raised their glasses, their eyes met and sparkled, the crystal clinked, and they smiled and drank, to both accomplishments and new beginnings.

  EPILOGUE

  Moscow, Russia, three days later:

  Irritated, Baron Sokolov tapped his cane on the polished wood floor of his office. Usually, the hand-carved sea eagle head on the top of the cane gave him comfort in difficult times, but today he crushed it in an angry grip as he tap, tap, tapped it on the floor.

  The source of his irritation, Pyotr, was running late. Pyotr had finally recovered from his helicopter crash injuries enough to get out of Cairo and schedule this debrief, but he didn’t have the respect to be on time. The baron stared out the window at an overcast, late-morning sky above Pushkinskaya Square and tried to calm himself.

  Tap. Tap, tap.

  They had come tantalizingly close to recovering the superconductive obelisks. The blasted obelisks that he hadn’t even believed existed at the start of the mission. But he had agreed to give Max Argones, the twins’ grandfather, the requested sniper and other resources to pursue them because Max had argued that it was a low-risk proposition with a potentially large reward.

  Once the baron realized there was something to find, he had salivated over the possibility of knocking out the US early warning defense systems. Crippling the enemy would have boosted his career into the stratosphere. Hero, they would have called him. Would have held a feast in his honor. Now, even his morning tea tasted like ashes, and he glared at the antique samovar on the buffet table, tempted to batter it with his cane.

  It had been tricky getting all the pieces in place to take out the radar systems without stirring up a hornet’s nest of interest from others in the military. Too risky to take to the Kremlin until he’d had the superconductive material in hand. Yes, he would have needed approval to deploy the nukes to melt American electronics, but he was certain his leadership would have jumped at the chance to wound their archenemy. The damage would have set the United States back years and would have given his country the chance to gain a technological edge.

  That dream was now shattered, as if someone had taken a hammer to an icy Siberian pond. Fortunately, he knew how to be discreet, knew how to minimize the fallout of a failed operation. Most of the people who knew about the mission were already dead.

  The intercom on his desk buzzed.

  The baron pushed the flashing green button. “Da.”

  “There is a young man here to see you, sir,” his administrative assistant said in Russian.

  “Send him in now,” he replied, also in Russian.

  Swinging the door shut behind him, Pyotr Argones strode in, arrogant, unhurried. His tall, broad-shouldered, athletic frame angered the baron further. There had been a day when the baron’s body was as lithe and strong as this spawn of the Spanish failure. The baron’s hand tightened on the head of his cane until his knuckles were white as his hair. Yet now, the baron reminded himself, he wielded another kind of power.

  Pyotr stood next to a chair on the other side of the antique desk. The baron stared at Pyotr. Pyotr stared back, his white iris disconcerting. Unnatural. Ignoring the discomfort, the baron pressed his position of authority.

  Eventually, Pyotr broke the eye contact and dropped his dark head slightly in a gesture of submission or respect. Took him long enough. If I let him live, I’ll need to find a way to remind him that he’s not as strong as he thinks he is.

  The baron gestured to the chair. “Sit.”

  As Pyotr sat, the baron regarded him. The moment stretched again as the baron gathered his thoughts on how to bring the man down a notch, yet still use him effectively.

  When the baron spoke, there was disproval in his tone. “Your father failed me, Pyotr. You failed me. My sources tell me the obelisks were destroyed. The twins have returned to America. Not only that, but they learned of our plan to take out their early warning radar systems and are taking steps to prevent us from using that tactic in the future.”

  Pyotr remained silent. No apologies, no excuses.

  Interesting. “Why should I not kill you?” the baron asked.

  “Perhaps I can still be of some use?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Although the obelisks were powerful, my father believed there was some sort of map to the source of the obelisks.”

  “And?”

  “And I’d like to find the map. Locate the twins, see if they know anything about the map, or the source. Then kill them.”

  “They are your niece and nephew.”

  “I have no feelings for them. And I’m the best asset you have to find them.”

  The baron turned his back on Pyotr by swiveling in his chair to look out the window on the gray morning. A single black raven perched motionless on a tree.

  Pyotr’s father had mentioned seeing a star chart once at the family castle. Other classified projects could utilize a cache of high-temperature superconductive material.

  In particular, Russia and India were collaborating on an encryption-killing quantum computer that needed superconductive material to be successful. With a code-breaking computer like that, and his army of computer scientists, he could pull off a mega-hack of US banks, power stations, credit card readers, gasoline stations, food markets. With no power, food, or gas, there would be massive chaos. With so many gun owners in the country, they’d kill half their own population within weeks, and then he and the military could invade, take over the government.

  There was more to the plan of course, but those were the bones. It just needed that superconductive material to get started.

  The baron turned his chair back around to face Pyotr. A single bead of sweat formed on the man’s temple. Good.

  “You may live for now. Here’s what you’re going to do.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTES

  I hope you’ve enjoyed the story.

  One of the things I always like is when an author shares fact from fantasy, so I wanted to return the favor for you.

  Ramiro I was truly the first king of Spain and Isabella I and Fe
rdinand II, his descendants. Most of the current European monarchs are descended from their union, including the current king of Spain, King Felipe VI. It is also true that all the other monarchs currently reigning in Europe (King Albert II of Belgium, Grand-Duke Henri of Luxembourg, Queen Elizabeth II of the U.K., Queen Margrethe II of Denmark, King Harald V of Norway, King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden, and King Willem-Alexander of the Netherlands) descend from Isabella I and Ferdinand II. Also, the sovereign princes of Europe: Albert II, Prince of Monaco, and Hans-Adam II, Prince of Liechtenstein, are descendants as well.

  The thorned cross was Ramiro’s royal sign over a thousand years before it graced the cover of this book.

  Female snipers were part of World War II for the Soviet Union. For example, Liudmyla Pavlychenko, or “Lady Death,” was a Russian Red Army Soviet sniper. With 309 kills, she is regarded as one of the most effective military snipers in history.

  It is a fact that scientists have recently identified superconductive bits in two meteorites: the Mundrabilla meteorite, found in the Australian Outback in 1911, and Graves Nunataks, a meteorite discovered in Antarctica in 1995.

  Lorandite is a ruby-red colored mineral that was mined in southern Macedonia from the Allchar deposit. Though rare, it is the most common thallium-bearing mineral. It also has superconductive powers. Superconductive minerals have been shown to illustrate the Meissner effect, which is the expulsion of a magnetic field from a superconductor. Quantum levitation is a process where scientists use the properties of quantum physics to levitate an object (specifically, a superconductor) over a magnetic source (more specifically, a quantum levitation track designed for this purpose). However, lorandite is not from a meteorite.

  There are legends associated with lorandite and Alexander the Great, who purportedly had his phalanx cover their shields with the mineral and then would arrange battles to occur at noon. The movement of his troops occurred from west to east, which caused a strong reflection from the shields that blinded an opposing army. Many believe this is why the Macedonian symbol is the sun.

  Regarding e-bombs and other EMP weapons, although much of the defense industry’s work on these weapons remains highly classified, it is believed that high-temperature superconductors are used to create their destructive power. A good resource on the topic is “The E-bomb: How America’s new directed energy weapons will change the way future wars will be fought,” by Doug Beason, Ph.D.

  The information on early warning systems is on the Internet. There is one in Northern California at Beale Air Force Base, one at Thule in Greenland, also Air Force, and one in England at Fylingdales, which is a British Air Force location.

  Nat Hlaung Kyuang Temple in Bagan is a one-story temple. I added a second story to increase tension in the novel.

  Several books have been written about the psychic spy program run by the CIA in the 1970s, and the military is training solders in mindfulness. The Department of Extreme Threats is my own invention.

  There are several archeological images of Egyptians holding rods--they’re typically cylindrical rather than in the shape of an obelisk.

  Most researchers today agree that ball lightning is real, yet its nature remains controversial. It often appears as a glowing sphere which moves or drifts horizontally through the air. Typically, it’s the size of a softball or grapefruit but sometimes appears as small as a dime, or as large as a bus. It can hover or bounce and lasts for only a few seconds, but can linger for longer. Sometimes it disappears quietly, and other times, explodes violently.

  If you’d like to learn more about the Power that Maddy experiences, I suggest finding a local Kundalini Yoga class. There are many paths to that same destination. I hope you find your way, and remember to Listen and feel the Power.

  CONNECT WITH AVANTI

  Now that you’ve had the chance to read my story, I want to get to know yours. Find me on my webpage (http://www.avanticentrae.com) and drop me a line, or sign up for my newsletter to learn more about Fan-only specials and giveaways. Send me a mysterious idea to incorporate into a future tale, or an extraordinary threat.

  You can also follow me on Facebook (avanticentrae), Instagram (avanti.centrae.author) or Twitter (@avanticentrae). Either way, let me know what you loved about VanOps: The Lost Power and what you want more of in the series to come.

  About the Author

  Avanti Centrae is the author of the VanOps thriller series. The Lost Power took home a genre grand prize blue ribbon at the Chanticleer International Book Awards, and an Honorable Mention at the Hollywood Book Festival. She resides in Northern California with her family and German Shepherds. Her favorite smell is the scent of adventure, either in real life, or in the pages of a well-worn tome.

  GENRE: THRILLER/SUSPENSE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. The publisher does not have any control over or assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.

  VANOPS: THE LOST POWER

  Copyright © 2019 by Avanti Centrae

  Cover Design by David Ter-Avanesyan/Ter33Design

  All cover art copyright © 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  eBOOK ISBN: 9781644371589

  First Publication: NOVEMBER 9, 2019

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