Mastermind- Rise of the Trojan Horse

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Mastermind- Rise of the Trojan Horse Page 1

by Tom Wheeler




  MASTERMIND by Tom Wheeler

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise-without prior written permission of the author, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are from the New International Version of the Bible. Used by permission. Please note in list of characters, God is The Almighty One. Emmanuel is Jesus. The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Emmanuel.

  Published by TAW Publishing

  Copyright, Thomas A. Wheeler, 2020

  All rights reserved.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7339223-1-9

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book maybe reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means without written permission from the author.

  Cover Design: Jeff Brown

  Editor: Beth Bazar

  First Edition

  Printed in the United States of America

  20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 — 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  DISCLAIMER

  This is a book of fiction. The people involved, whether domestic or foreign, including companies, organizations, and institutions – whether private, public and government – are creations of the author’s imagination. Where actual names appear, they are used fictitiously and do not necessarily depict their actual conduct or purpose.

  In Memory of My Mom,

  Graydon Butler Wheeler

  CHARACTERS

  PRIMARY

  Mason Jackson Thomas: Protagonist/main character

  Capucine Foushé: Mason’s girlfriend; member of France’s external intelligence agency, the General Directorate for External Security (DGSE); possibly a.k.a. Dominika Vladimirovich, Soviet agent

  President Tense: President of the United States following Jordan Crumpler

  General Chesty Crane: United States director of national intelligence (DNI)

  Jonah Soul: Chairman of the board of Phoenix Corporation; a.k.a. Roman Gagranovich

  General Troyanskiy: Jonah’s contact

  Eva Cruise: Android EC626, developed by Phoenix; a.k.a. Ayesha Bonin (the person Eva was modeled after)

  Dr. Dhilan Hannah: Lead NASA developer

  Nero Ibrahim Tarek: Android developed by NASA; a.k.a. Captain Maxey, Anna Valeryevna Butwina, and Laura Lepistö

  Jerome Marcus Maximillian: Android developed by NASA; a.k.a. Tom Emmrich and Ahmez

  Rihanna Zeva: a.k.a. Yuzuru Katoro and Émilie du Châtelet; fleeing Iran; previously worked for Ali Ahmadi, supreme leader of Iran

  Wesley Mayfield Masters: CIA director (director of Central Intelligence, or DCI), following Sam Adams

  SECONDARY

  Anna Valeryevna Butwina: Russian spy who infiltrated the NRA

  Lisa Cummings: Reporter for the New York Times

  Jack Dawson: Executive VP of Research and Development, Phoenix Corporation

  Adam Carbel: President and CEO, Phoenix Corporation

  Sam Adams: Former director of the CIA

  Hassan bin Laden

  Ali Ahmadi: Supreme leader of Iran

  Akbar Ahmadinejad: President of Iran

  Pak-un: Supreme leader of North Korea

  Marína Crumpler: Former First Lady and current ambassador to the United Nations

  Dr. Stephen Mescher: Brain surgeon

  TERTIARY

  Ralph Duncan: Arrested for looting; first witness to Eva Cruise outside of Phoenix Corporation

  Leon Tuss: Artificial intelligence (AI) developer and entrepreneur; works closely with NASA

  Captain Holcomb: Commanding officer of the USS George H. W. Bush

  Tasha: Rihanna’s friend in Iran

  Abella, Daniela Sofia, and Margot: Capucine’s friends in France

  Jonathan Eller: UN security guard; Mustafa, his step-brother

  The Joint Chiefs

  Chairman of Joint Chiefs: Admiral Mike Engel

  Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs: General Stacy Florcruz

  Richard Murphy: Investor in Phoenix Corporation. Later replaced Jonah Soul as Chairman

  Carlos DaSilva: Capucine’s French connection; member of the French Directorate

  Reese Cropper: US Secret Service agent

  Shareef Hoke: Director of the FBI

  Russ Keeney: Mason’s Christian counselor

  Ayesha Bonin: Russian Federal Security Service (FSB) agent after whom Eva Cruise was modeled

  Ambassador Mark Williams: US ambassador to Finland

  Paul Olsen: Campaign manager for President Tense

  Tom Kallam: Former NSA deputy director and current CIA deputy director/analyst

  Yuri Dublinin: Former Russian ambassador to the United States

  Colonel Benjamin Wilson: F-15 pilot

  Captain Rank: Drone pilot

  Jermaine Johnson: Previous candidate for CIA directorship before Wesley Masters was selected

  Ramon Crissman: DGSE agent; friend of Capucine

  Vladimir and Lydia Guryev, real names Victor and Cynthia Pollard: US spies in Russia

  Pierre Monet: Dhilan Hannah’s best friend; aeronautical research engineer for NASA in California

  Mark Iacono: Chief of staff for President Tense

  Matt Tucker, Angela Thompson, and Sandy Duncan: Jack Dawson’s pawns (for gathering dirt)

  Ramon “Cool” Rae: CIA operative embedded in al-Qaeda, rescued with Mason Thomas in July

  Alexandra Martinez: U.S. Representative and Democratic presidential candidate

  Stanley Bernard: Democratic presidential candidate

  Margaret Genovese: Assistant to Alexandra Martinez

  Nancy D’Alesandro: Speaker of the House of Representatives

  Lawrence Newman: Fictitious name of patient Dr. Mescher is performing a surgical operation.

  DEMONS

  Saboteur/Satan

  ANGELS

  Michael: Archangel

  Porsha: Mason’s guardian angel

  Zoe: Capucine’s guardian angel

  NOTABLE TERMS

  Akula: Car built by Phoenix

  DGSE: General Directorate for External Security, France’s external intelligence agency

  Maltodextrin: Robotic fuel containing maltose or a polysaccharide produced from starch and absorbed like glucose

  Micro-aerial vehicles: Remote-control insect or bird drones

  Microbrain: Robotic CPU implanted in Nero and Jerome, and then transplanted into Dr. Hannah

  Mobile Security Deployment team (MSD): Advanced security team for the president of the United States

  Neural eclosion: The linking of neurons in the brain

  Neural-Eclosion: The name of Leon Tuss’s company

  Neural thread: Microscopic threads that allow signals to pass to the neurons

  NIO: Chinese car with advanced AI

  Phoenix Corporation: Company that employs Mason Thomas as robotics expert, Jonah Soul as Chairman, Adam Carbel as president, and Jack Dawson as executive VP in charge of R&D

  POTUS: Acronym for “president of the United States”

  Telepathic Auditor: Mind-reading device that interacts with machines

  Trojan horse: Any form of deceit used by one establishment to trick an opposing force into allowing access to a protected area. The term originated in Greek mythology during the Trojan War (12th or 13th century
BCE), when the Greeks were said to have invaded the city of Troy, bringing with them a large wooden horse, apparently as their “mascot.” Overwhelmed by the Trojan army, the Greeks pretended to flee by sea, giving the impression they were running for their lives. The Trojans pulled the insidious wooden horse, now victory trophy, deep into their city as an act of celebration. During the night, Greek soldiers hidden within the huge horse disembarked from it and opened the city gates for the returning Greek army, which destroyed the city of Troy.

  1

  State of the Union Address

  September 2

  The Chamber of the House of Representatives

  U.S. Capital, Washington, D.C.

  “Madame Speaker! The president of the United States!” the deputy sergeant at arms announced. The silver-haired president of just two weeks made his way slowly behind two Secret Service agents as another two followed, each with one hand lying gently on his back. They moved through the chamber, to sporadic clapping. Unlike the pomp and circumstance that typically accompanies a presidential promenade into a State of the Union address, the atmosphere this evening was solemn. Hundreds of wary eyes of the members of the House and Senate, along with ambassadors and official guests, followed him as millions more watched on their television sets. I had never been to a State of the Union address, but at all the ones I’d seen on television, an overwhelming appreciation of the president had filled the chamber. Not tonight.

  The president walked through the crowd, smiling and shaking hands with some of his loyal supporters before making his way to the podium. The room was silent. The president turned to shake the hand of Vice President Pete Dewey, former governor of Arizona, who had been appointed by President Tense in accordance with the 25th Amendment—the same amendment that had put the former vice president in office after President Crumpler’s massive heart attack. President Tense then shook Speaker of the House Nancy D’Alesandro’s hand and offered each of them a brown folder containing a transcript of his address, which they both warmly received. I was sitting in the upper balcony, a guest of the president. I had a nervous feeling in my stomach, wondering whether the president would continue to invite the country back to its spiritual roots.

  The president sat looking over the room for at least a minute. Then the Speaker banged the gavel two times before speaking. “Members of Congress, I have the high privilege and distinct honor of presenting to you the president of the United States.” A smattering of applause followed, several members hooting while most of the others looked on with concerned stares.

  President Tense fixed his gaze on the teleprompter screen on his right and began speaking. “Thank you very much, Madame Speaker, Vice President Dewey, members of Congress, former First Lady of the United States and Ambassador to the United Nations Marína Crumpler,” he said as the former first lady stood, waved, and then sat down as many in the body warmly cheered her, “. . . the current first lady, distinguished guests, and fellow citizens,” he continued calmly. His body language projected intensity and grace—his usual temperament. I noticed what appeared to be a dark mist falling from the center of the chamber, hardly visible, but clearly real. I pushed my thumb and index fingers into my eyes to see more clearly.

  “Pearl Harbor awakened us to the reality that our great nation was vulnerable to foreign invaders. The events of 9-11 woke us up to the reality that fanatical terrorists could hijack planes and topple our largest buildings. But NEVER,” he said, raising his voice and having to clear his throat, “NEVER in our 243-year history has the United States of America been hit with a cataclysmic event such as we saw on August 16. And NEVER will this happen again on the soil of the United States of America—not on my watch!” he declared. The crowd appeared captivated, but still waiting.

  “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me,’” he declared, quoting a verse from Psalm 23 of the Grand Book. The entire body roared to its feet, me included. I could almost see the flip in their eyes, as if the Spirit of Emmanuel had descended upon the room. For a split second I saw what appeared to be a huge white figure with sword raised standing next to the president. I shook my head quickly, pressed my fingers into my eyes again, and then looked back at the president. Whatever I had seen was gone, as was the dark mist.

  President Tense began speaking again, the clapping quickly fading as I saw a white, cloudlike figure dart across the top tier of the House Chamber. I jerked my head to follow the apparent phantasm. I blinked hard. Then I closed my eyes.

  “We have witnessed the glare in the sky hundreds of times brighter than the sun from detonation of a nuclear bomb on our turf, on your turf,” he said angrily. “We have seen the terrifying apocalyptic mushroom cloud extending 10 miles high above the state of California, spreading 3 miles across, incinerating thousands of innocent Americans in its path, turning the surrounding area into a toxic wasteland. As we speak, the Diablo Nuclear Site’s ‘spent fuel,’ a form of high-level nuclear waste, the most hazardous material on our planet, still burns, entering the atmosphere through its smoke, sending deadly chemicals hundreds of miles from the site as it blows eastward in the scorching, now deadly winds reaching the Sierra Nevada. Scientists have discovered microscopic carbon particles in the air as far as our nation’s capital—where we sit tonight. Our drinking water has also been exposed to 500 tons of spent-fuel radioactive waste, requiring all those in California to drink bottled water or risk radioactive exposure,” he said as I opened my eyes, squinting to scan the chamber. “Moreover, California is dealing with another earthquake that . . .”

  “That detonation wouldn’t have happened if Crumpler hadn’t held the government hostage for the wall—the wall he swore Mexico would pay for!” yelled a heckler, standing up on the Democrats’ side of the chamber, interrupting the President.

  “So much for the ‘Kumbaya’ moment,” said the person next to me. I gave her an odd look.

  “I thought they arrested people for shouting?” I asked.

  “It’s a new day,” came the reply as our faces locked for a split second. I turned my head back to the front.

  The mist was back, larger than before. I saw what appeared to be a huge demon dart through the podium area. My heart began pounding, a feeling of terror pulsating from my chest to the top of my head. My gaze raced around the chamber, and I noticed a pair of eyes peering from the wall behind the podium. As quickly as I saw the large, round eyes, they disappeared. I shook my head quickly back and forth again, this time attempting to wake myself.

  “Booooooooo!” shouted Republicans from their section, standing up. “It happened because you idiots didn’t fund the wall when Crumpler asked!” someone screamed, and I noticed what appeared to be dark clouds darting in and out of random men in the chamber in the most bizarre scene I’d ever witnessed. My eyes narrowed as I stared at some of the same men.

  “Except you controlled Congress!” screamed one of the men I was watching, as if he had been possessed, rage filling his eyes.

  I looked around at the other faces, anger swelling in their demeanor as well. I slapped myself as the person next to me flashed a concerned look. “Help me, Emmanuel,” I uttered, shaking, overwhelmed with a flesh-crawling fear as if I was literally going crazy. Immediately I prayed for protection as I scanned the chamber, my head low. Something was lurking in this room—something not from this world.

  

  2

  Fortuitous Crime

  September 2

  Palmdale, California

  The lithe, fit woman in tight faded blue jeans, white polo sweatshirt, matching jean jacket, and black boots walked fast—confident and expressionless—holding the straps of her backpack with both hands. Her short black hair bounced as she leapt across the three-foot-wide, undulating gouge where the earth had buckled between East Palmdale Boulevard and 10th Street during the 7.6-magnitude earthquake. Her eyes narrowed
at the heavy cloud of black smoke billowing from the Kangaroo gas station before locating the man with the L.A. County Sheriff’s patch on his sleeve. He was standing at the intersection, waving several green-canvased military trucks into the area as several other fires raged in the vicinity.

  She took another step toward the besieged Wells Fargo bank and simultaneously watched a small platoon of soldiers in riot gear slide over the sides of the trucks, submachine guns clutched to their chests. She was unfazed as she made her way through the escalating mob. Out of nowhere, a random male rioter groped her with one hand, putting his other hand around her neck, apparently ready to force his mouth against hers. Instinctively she grabbed his wrist, yanking it off her neck, and punched him squarely in the face before throwing him to the ground with such force that she could hear his shoulder pop out of its socket.

  “You’re fortunate I don’t break your neck, Ralph Duncan,” Eva Cruise said, without emotion and without missing a step as the cross-eyed man swayed to his feet.

  “That’s not my . . . ,” he struggled to say, stumbling off and disappearing into the crowd.

  “You go, sistah!” said a wide-eyed female whose name appeared on Eva’s biometric eye screen as Barb McIntire, also rushing toward the bank, which was now thronged with rioters who had broken the front glass.

  “Do not tell anyone else his or her name—that is an order!” the operator said to his screen as he continued monitoring his accomplice along with the police chatter. “Der’mo!” he shouted, as he could hear glass breaking under Eva’s feet, the wailing of sirens growing in the background. “You have 3 minutes and 56 seconds,” the operator nervously told her, considering her reaction to her unfortunate assailant.

  Eva glanced at the looters now in the bank lobby, who had already ransacked the nearby liquor and convenience store. She continued her beeline for the rear door as multiple names popped onto the operator’s monitor whenever Eva’s biometric eyes looked directly at a face. Then the names disappeared.

  She mounted the three steps leading to the back door, raised her leg into a side position, and kicked the metal door so hard it broke the hinges and knocked several cinder blocks out of the building’s wall. The door flew open, cracking the white corporate walls inside. Seconds later, she was standing next to an unguarded vault.

 

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