A Triple Thriller Fest (96 page)

Soon, Tonya was kicking at the apartment door.  The commotion briefly distracted Grayson.  That was all that Martha needed.  She maneuvered the knife toward Grayson and plunged it into his chest and with a twisting motion escaped from under his body.  The look on Grayson’s face was one of surprise at this unexpected turn of events, his body doubled forward in pain, fell over the railings and struck the concrete below with a solid thud.

Her breasts drenched red with Grayson’s blood, Martha rushed over to the door, unlocked it, and let Tonya Jefferson in. 

“You okay, Martha?” said Tonya as she rushed to the balcony.

Martha could only nod yes as she slumped down on the floor in fits of tears.

On the pavement below, the rotund face of Grayson stared out into emptiness; his rimless glasses lay broken at his side, a pool of blood spread under his head and under his chest.  His arms were spread apart as if he had expected to break the fall.

1993: The Future

1930 Hours: Tuesday, July 6, 1993: The White House

“Mr. President, I apologize for interrupting the dinner.  The message finally came in from the NSA and I knew that you wanted to review it as soon as possible,” said Vice Admiral Francis Tillingham, the President’s National Security Adviser.  Tillingham was calling from the reception area to the Oval Office.

“Yes, Frank, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” said the President.  “I figured that something was up with all that commotion outside.”

Outside the White House, a battalion of heavily armed Marines had stationed themselves at critical points on Pennsylvania Avenue and on the South Lawn.  Overhead six Sikorsky HH-53H Super Jolly Green Giants languidly floated in the night air like hawks waiting for their prey.  Even higher, a squadron of A-10 Warthogs circled the sky above the White House.

Tillingham put the telephone down and turned to the small group of men hastily called to the White House.  The group included McHugh; his boss Admiral Thomas Oliver, the chief of CSAC; FBI director Judge James Alexander; the director of the National Security Agency, Admiral William Smith; the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, Thomas Gooding; the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Army General Emerson Ryder; the Secretary of State Jason Littleton; the Secretary of Defense Gavin McKnight; and Mike, who carried an aluminum suitcase in his left hand.  Mike was dressed in a Navy uniform.

“The President will see you now,” said Maryanne Swanson, the President’s executive assistant.

The group of men entered the Oval Office, quite small by modern executive office standards.  Miss Swanson had arranged for some extra chairs, knowing that this large group was on its way.  On the white couch in front of the fireplace was already seated Bo Reddington, a trusted adviser to the President, who had been a law partner of the President’s and now served his former partner as a special assistant.  The heavy-set Reddington in typical fashion had his shirt collar unbuttoned and his tie loosened.

After the group had entered, the President entered through the door to the small private study off of the Oval Room.  The lean, athletic President was dressed in a tuxedo, having come from a formal dinner in the East Room of the White House.  With him was Thurgood Bensen, senior senator from Alabama, who was the chairman of the Select Committee on Intelligence Oversight.  Bensen, also dressed in a tuxedo, was a long-time political ally of the President of over thirty years.

“Mr. President, I think you know everyone here but Mike Liu,” said Tillingham.

“Hello, Mr. Liu.  I understand you work with my old friend, Seth Wickerspoon.  How is Seth these days?”

Seth Wickerspoon, chairman and chief executive officer of Franklin Smedley & Associates, had served with the young Navy ensign, who eventually became President of the United States, during World War II in the Office of Strategic Services.  Mike’s involvement in CSAC was well known to Wickerspoon.

“Seth is fine.  He sends his greetings, Mr. President.”

“Okay, Frank.  What do we have?”

“Mr. President, you’re well aware of CSAC and its missions.  As you’re aware, surveillance was instituted in the early seventies to monitor the presence of four Sentinels located strategically in the waters of the United States.  Both Admiral McHugh and Commander Liu have been on this project since its inception.

“As you know, the four sites were suspected to be of extraterrestrial origin and were believed to be performing some monitoring function.  About four weeks ago, signals were emitted from three of the sites.  These signals were encoded and sent by courier to the National Security Agency where efforts were made to decipher the messages, if any, that we suspect were being sent.

“The fourth, Watch Station Three, off the California coast was partially destroyed by as yet unidentified hostile fire.  The majority of the crew apparently abandoned the station in
Benthic Ranger Two
, but we have not found any clue as to their whereabouts.  We don’t know if the destruction of the station was by Russian or other forces using weapons developed by the KGB’s Technical Directorate or by alien forces from the object.

“However, we’re reasonably certain that the three intercepted messages were identical, leading to the conclusion that the fourth Sentinel would have sent a similar message.  The decoding of these messages was facilitated by a metallic plate discovered by Mike Liu.  Here, maybe Mike should pick up the briefing.”  Tillingham nodded to Mike.

“Mr. President, the plate was left to me by a Navajo medicine man by the name of Johnny Thapaha, who apparently befriended an injured alien, who had survived the crash at the Socorro, New Mexico, location in the late forties.”

Several heads jerked up on the disclosure of a surviving alien, a closely held CSAC secret until this moment.  Mike hesitated.

“Go on, Commander Liu,” said the President of the United States.  “I’m aware of the fourth alien.”

More heads turned toward Mike.  Several of the assorted men made notes in notebooks.  Tillingham noticed the note taking and whispered to the President, who nodded.

Quietly, the President said, “Gentlemen, I note that this news appears to be somewhat disturbing to some of you.  I’ll tell you that the fact of the fourth surviving alien was considered so secret that only a few people in the United States other than the President of the United States were aware of its importance.  I trust that none of you will carry that information out of this room.”

Wads of paper appeared from small notebooks and were put into the ashtray on the coffee table in front of the President.  Tillingham took out a gold cigarette lighter, flicked it on and set the wads of paper aflame.  The acrid smoke from the burning paper quickly filled the room and just as quickly dissipated.

“Now, Commander, please continue.”

“Johnny Thapaha meant no harm by attempting to save the fourth alien from the crashed vehicle.  In the Navajo religion, the concept of four is very important.  There are four directions, four colors, and four seasons.  Because of this and, perhaps because this alien took four days and four nights to expire, Johnny Thapaha believed him to be an emissary from the Great Spirit.  Johnny Thapaha called him ‘the traveler.’  Before the alien died, he entrusted the metallic plate to Johnny Thapaha.

“When you hold the plate at the correct angle so that the light skips across the surface, a hologram rises from the plate.  Keep in mind that Johnny Thapaha may have been the first human ever to see a real hologram, certainly one this clear and distinct.  The hologram displays the four points of the compass plus a translation of the Theban language to Greek.”

“Why do you call it the ‘Theban’ language, Mr. Liu?” said General Ryder, who was a historian by education.

“The translation has allowed us to decipher much of the data that was rescued from the alien craft retrieved from the Socorro incident,” said Mike.  “The hieroglyphics used in describing the alien’s planet corresponds to the ‘th’ and the ‘b’ sounds in English.  The term ‘Theban’ arises from those hieroglyphics, not from any attempt to imply that there is an Egyptian connection.”

“Thank you.”

“Anyway, the code enabled us to interpret the messages from the Sentinels using the Cray Mark II Super Computer at the National Security Agency.  Johnny Thapaha’s fascination with the plate apparently coincided with his sunrise worship ceremony.”

“How’s that?” said Senator Bensen.

“Johnny Thapaha apparently could get the hologram to appear by holding the plate up to the rays of the rising sun,” said Mike.

“Where is the plate now?” said the President.

“I have it here,” said Mike as he encoded an alphanumeric into the keypad on the aluminum briefcase.  Mike opened the case and then took out the velvet box in which sat the mysterious shiny plate that Johnny Thapaha had treasured for so many years.  As Mike opened the box, the lights of the Oval Office danced over the surface of the plate.

“Go ahead, Mr. President.  You can’t appreciate the true significance unless you hold it up to the light.  Here, let me show you how.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

The President held the plate so that the light of the table lamp skipped over the surface like the rays of the rising sun.  The hologram rose out of the plate and the President saw what Johnny Thapaha had seen over the forty-some years he had welcomed the morning sunrise with plate in hand.  The effect was startling.  The President passed it over to Thurgood Bensen, who in turn passed it to the next man in the room.

The plate was finally returned to Mike who returned it to the velvet box and the box into his aluminum briefcase.  “We’re currently translating other data that had been recovered from the crash sites.  Early indications are that we’re finding out some very interesting information.”

“Where are these aliens from?” said Director Gooding of the CIA.

“We believe that Thebes is a planet much like ours, circling a dying red star near Alpha Centauri,” said Admiral Oliver.

“What are the implications of what you just said, Admiral?” said Senator Thurgood Benson.

“So far, this is just speculation,” said Oliver.  “Our analysts haven’t had the chance to interpret all the documents found on the alien craft in our possession.  However, we believe that the Theban people are concerned with the ebbing power of their sun and have determined that our planet is a potential alternative.”

“Damn.”

“What about Watch Station Three?” said Bo Reddington.

“Let me turn this over to Admiral McHugh.”

“Watch Station Three was deserted, as was reported earlier,” said McHugh, as he walked to the map on the easel that had been set up in the office.  The station is located here, about 100 miles off of Santa Catalina Island.”

McHugh pointed to the location of the Watch Station on the map.

“We inspected the site.  The object appears to be as tranquil as always, but the station was empty.  The Coast Guard found debris from
Benthic Ranger One
.  We found what remained of
Benthic Ranger One
and its crew.  It’s best to leave them there, it wasn’t pretty.”

“What about the second Benthic Ranger?” said Bo Reddington.

”
Benthic Ranger Two
is missing and, with her, the remaining crew from Watch Station Three.  Part of the Watch Station had imploded, leading us to suspect that Messinger abandoned the Watch Station, taking his crew with him.  Carlton Messinger — you probably know him, Admiral Smith — was the inventor of the Mess-I reactor.  We were looking for a lot out of that guy.”

“Damn shame, he was top in his class at the Academy.  I taught him mechanics,” said Admiral Smith.

“Messinger did have the presence of mind to enter a fairly detailed report into the station log.  Fearing that the attacker might intercept any messages or take any information in the memory of the computer, Messinger had the memory erased and destroyed.  The message he left was encrypted by manual means and was found during our inspection of the command module by Captain Mannington.

“What did Messinger say?” said the President.

“Messinger described the earlier events already reported to you.  However on the critical point concerning the abandonment of the Watch Station there was nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing, except an order to abandon the station, sir,” said McHugh.  “After the search team got topside, we instituted a wide area search including the use of the latest Nematode, a towed side-scan sonar and closed circuit television package capable of extremely deep operating depths.  Nothing. 
Benthic Ranger Two
simply vanished.

“Apparently, Watch Station Three was attacked by a black unidentified submersible with an incredible weapon, a focused sonic pulse, which caused the stores module of the Watch Station and
Benthic Ranger One
to literally explode.  The focused sonic pulse is a theoretical weapon that both DARPA and the KGB’s Scientific and Technical Directorate have been trying to develop for years.

“There is also a suspicion that the North Koreans might have developed this technology.  Some analysts at Central Intelligence believe that a core group of the KGB’s Scientific and Technical Directorate staff may have defected to the North Korea following Glasnost and the dismantling of the KGB staff at Lubyanka.”

“Why North Korea, Admiral McHugh?” said the President.

“Mr. President, we suspect that the core group at the Directorate were diehard Bolsheviks,” said CIA Director Gooding.  “But even Bolsheviks enjoy the good life that the Arabic countries like Iraqi or Syria just can’t supply.  Hence, the North Koreans.”

“Why didn’t we put in a bid for this talent, Mr. Gooding?” said Reddington, his already narrowed eyes piercing into Gooding as he talked.

“We did.  Their price was too high.  They disappeared before we could institute other measures.”

Reddington just stared at Gooding.  Gooding sat down, obviously uncomfortable.