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Authors: Frank J. Derfler

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Janet replied, “Based on what we know of the Justice Department and Homeland Security, they would bury it.  We think there would be no impact on the election.”

 

Jose looked at Rae.  Obviously they had discussed this beforehand.  “How about this alternative? According to what you all have told me, the Project disabled the tires on an airplane that would have flown on nine eleven so it never took off, right?  How about we simply disable these three vehicles right where they sit? We could blow their tires or even blow their gas tanks.  The bad guys can’t drive them anywhere.  We don’t kill anyone and the feds have less of a mess to cover up.  Would that work?”

 

Bill Wirtz nodded, “It depends on how the bombers react when the vehicles won’t move. If they blow one or more of the cars they could do a lot of damage and probably kill the one county worker inside the building.”

 

“If I was in their shoes and something suddenly and simultaneously happened to all three cars, I would get the heck out of there and try to disappear,” Ted observed.  “They aren’t going to make the statement they want with an explosion in an empty parking lot and their bosses, if they have any, will think they screwed up badly. Their bosses are going to be pissed, and suddenly they guys are in danger from everyone. 

 

“It’s worth trying,” Rae argued.  “If we don’t like the results, we’ll probably do it all over again.  There is nothing to lose.” 

 

“And we don’t kill anyone.  Let the feds find them and use them for intelligence.  I think it’s a good idea,” Sally said.  

 

Jose didn’t look at Sally, but he thought for a few seconds about the gun-carrying woman, this same Sally, who calmly watched the head of a man who threatened her husband explode like a ripe pumpkin.  He mentally shrugged and noted that in different circumstances people reach different conclusions.

 

“For the sake of argument, “Bill asked, “what happens if they decide to take the explosives with them?  In theory, each one could carry the hunk of tritonal or whatever it is from each car.” 

 

Jose replied, “They probably have it packed with shrapnel.  And there are timers, wires, and batteries. Maybe each bomb has radio or cell phone attachments.  So, it’s not likely they can quickly separate out the explosive and carry it away.  But, how about we pop some beads outside the windows of the two cars to move them along?”

 

Ted Arthurs nodded his head and said, “Shoot for all four tires on each vehicle.  Can we figure out where the battery is in each car and take out the electrical system?” 

 

“Mr. Pulliam,” Jose said, “adjust the targeting to the tires of each vehicle.  Let’s put three in each tire. And let’s have the targeting team research the locations of the cars’ batteries.”

 

-----

 

A hypothetical observer with a God’s-eye view sitting in a segment of neutral-time space, saw an infinitesimal segment of time-space fold in on itself and fade away.  Now, in the time line occupied by the Project, there were no bomb explosions and no threat to the Republic.   The three vehicles in the Atlanta parking lot were reported to the police when the county employee in the building heard a commotion outside. The county bomb squad called in Homeland Security who sent the FBI and ATF.  Everyone hustled while the vehicles were isolated and the polling place was moved to a different county building.  No one in the public or the media heard about the three vehicles carrying high explosives as the Department of Homeland Security used the evidence in the cars to track the drivers. The election ran its course as elections do in the Republic.

Chapter  23: "The Smell of Natto”

 

 

Friday December 10, 2010  1300 Eastern

 

Spring Hill Health Club, Loudon County, VA

 

Excerpt from the Personal Narrative of Dr. Fred Landry   

Recorded June 2015

UNCLASSIFIED  

"I was very lucky.  That whole episode could have easily ended in tragedy for someone.”

 

 

Major General USAF retired Fred Landry, PhD, was right on time.  As the new Senior VP for Business Development at Interspace, he had his rounds to make with other government contractors and with government contracting officers.  He always hit the gym at about noon and left a little before 1330.  In that way he got his workout, a mid-day shower, and was ready for an evening of schmoozing.    

 

His Ford F-150 sat at the wooded edge of the parking lot.  He opened the door with his left hand, swung his gym bag onto the passenger seat, and edged into the driver’s side.  As his backside touched the seat he smelled something that caused him to immediately try to reverse the process.  His brain told his body to smoothly drop out of the truck and roll to the left.  His sixty six year old body responded by folding on his left leg and smashing his left shoulder into the parking lot.  He did get in one roll to get his legs past the open door.  He saw a hand on the door pillar above him so he kicked the door with his right foot and leg and he was gratified to hear a scream from inside the truck.

 

Fred’s mind told his body to pop up and rip open the back door while he had an advantage.  His body got him to his feet with a lot of pain on his left side.  As he pulled open the back door, he saw a man’s hand flash toward him with something in it, so he put all of his weight on the door and closed the upper arm in the opening between the door and the truck’s body.  Then he slammed the arm and wrist in the door again for good measure.

 

Fred pulled the door open again and, since he had his balance, his body did exactly what his mind wanted.  He hit the man in the back seat with a closed fist in the side of the neck.  Then he spun counterclockwise and put his back against the truck, looking for another adversary.  He heard a car start on the other side of the truck.  Because of the tricky and arcane gun laws in the District of Columbia, the only weapons he kept in the truck were tools.  He ducked low, opened the driver’s side door again, and pulled a tire iron from under the seat.  The car on the far side of the truck scraped a tree, reversed, and squealed its tires on the way out of the parking lot. When Fred peeked   around the back of the truck he saw a white sedan that looked like it was probably a rental.

 

He turned around looking for a threat, waited a few seconds, and moved to the truck’s back door. He saw a young Asian man with a bleeding hand and a bloody arm. He was obviously having trouble breathing.

 

Fred banged the guy in the ribs with the tire iron and pushed him back on the seat of the truck.  Keeping the tire iron on the guy’s throat with his left hand, Fred patted him down and was surprised to find a wallet.  He also found a syringe case and, on the seat under the man’s legs, a syringe with the guard off, ready to be injected.  Fred looked at the syringe for a moment, stuck the needle into the man’s groin right through his pants, and pushed the plunger.  In about five seconds the young man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed on the seat.  Fred sniffed the guy’s face and nodded to himself. 

 

As he closed the back door and slid into the front seat of his truck, Fred started to shake. His hands were unsteady as he hit the speed dial for the duty controller in Boulder City.  “This is General Landry, I need to speak to General Arthurs immediately.”

 

The duty controller knew that Ted Arthurs was in the building, but his office was in the new section. He hit the PA button and said, “Mr. Arthurs, please call extension one hundred.”  He thought it was strange that Fred Landry forgot that no one used ranks anymore in Interspace Corporation.

 

“Fred, what’s up?” Ted Arthurs asked when the duty officer completed the connection.”

 

“Ted, I’ve just been attacked.  It looks like a kidnap attempt.  They had a syringe to knock me out.  The one guy I’ve got is clearly Japanese.”

 

“What’s your status, Fred?”  Ted asked.  Even before Fred answered, Ted grabbed the arm of a warrant officer wearing civilian clothes passing in the hallway.  “Tell the duty controller to set force protection Charlie on my authority. No drill.”  The warrant officer, soon to be a well-paid civilian system analyst for Interspace, looked into his eyes, nodded once, and took off running toward the control room. 

 

“I’m okay.  I’m in my truck in the parking lot of my gym.  I’ve got the doors locked,” he said as he remembered to hit the door lock button.  “The guy who tried to grab me is out like a light in the back seat. I’ve got his ID and wallet.  I’m thinking of just pulling him out into the bushes and leaving him there.”

 

“Do you need an ambulance or the police?” Ted asked.

 

“Hell no.  I’m okay.  No police.  I don’t want to attract any attention or raise questions.  But listen, Ted, this guy is Japanese.  This has something to do with the visit to Japan.”

 

“How can you be sure, Fred?” 

 

“He smells like that damn Natto.  I like everything about Japan except that damn fermented soybean stuff they eat for breakfast.  I knew what it was when I got a whiff as I was climbing into the truck.  So I ducked and he missed and I nailed him.”

 

“Fred, your idea sounds good to me. If you lock him up someplace without calling the cops it’s kidnapping.  Just lay him out and let him look like a vagrant.  Then get the hell out of there and get to someplace safe.  Leave your phone on the seat with the speaker on.  I want to be able to hear if anything goes wrong.  While you do that I’ll get things rolling here.”

 

“I’m worried about Rae.  They know her.”  After those words Ted Arthurs heard the sound of truck doors opening and closing over the phone connection. 

 

An instant later, the PA system announced, “Set force protection Charlie now.  No drill.  Set force protection Charlie and report.”  Ted heard the sound of people running down the hall. 

 

Since his desk speakerphone was connected to Fred’s cell phone, Ted used the phone on Sally’s desk to call into the duty controller.  “I need you to monitor the call from General Landry.  I also need someone else to contact Doctor Dunnan and Colonel Valenzuela.” 

 

“Yes, sir, but the Colonel is flying, General.”  The controller thought that if the two generals were using military rank, he was just as happy to follow along.

 

“Have someone get hold of Doctor Dunnan,” Ted ordered, “Find her and tell her Fred Landry has been attacked. Help her get to someplace safe.  Send our people to her if you can. I’ll be in the ops room in a minute.” A second after he broke the connection he dialed Sally’s cell phone number. “Sally, where are you?”

 

The tension in Ted’s voice gave Sally all the notice she needed that something was wrong.  She simply replied, “I’m, uh, near Patrick’s middle school.  Heading back to the office.” 

 

“Listen, someone just tried unsuccessfully to kidnap Fred.  He thinks it’s tied to the visits to Japan.  He’s worried about Rae, but I don’t want you or the kids in a vulnerable position.”

 

Sally thought for only a second, “I can see Patrick’s school.  I’ll go to the school and volunteer to be a teacher’s assistant for a while.  I just saw Rae’s red Tahoe about maybe ten minutes ago.  She’s got that Shuttle Challenger commemorative plate on it.  Her car was headed out of town on Great Basin Highway waiting to go north on ninety-three.  I was at the light on Buchanan and saw her, well I saw her vehicle, go through. I really didn’t see the driver.”

 

Ted hung up both phones and walked quickly to the operations room. 

Chapter 24: "Rolling Thunder”

 

 

Friday December 10, 2010  1120 Pacific

 

Northwest Arizona near the Nevada Border

 

Excerpt from the Personal Narrative of Mr. Craig Pulliam   

Recorded January 2015

UNCLASSIFIED  

"Ah yes, that was some flying.  Fortunately, no one ever called the FAA!” 

 

 

Astronaut Rae Dunnan, PhD woke up with an awful taste in her mouth. It took her a few seconds to figure out that she was in trouble. She was laying on her right side and she could tell she was in a vehicle. Opening her right eye just a slit, and saw the back of a seat and in the pocket of the seat was her book of maps.  So, she was on the back seat of her own Tahoe. She tried to move just a little and found that her hands were secured behind her by what felt like a plastic wire tie.  When she tried to move her legs she could tell that her ankles were strapped together.

BOOK: A Twist in Time
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