Soon the two women were rolling on the floor and ripping at each other’s jumpsuits and hair. Dr. Darby was hampered because she still had on her white lab coat. Everybody else in the room did nothing, but stood in fascination in a semi-circle. They didn’t know what else to do.
Kaley was much stronger than the doctor. She was able to pin the smaller woman’s arms behind her back and then unzipped the front of her jumpsuit. Then she pulled the collar down. Dr. Darby was suddenly trapped and unable to move her arms. Everyone noticed that her smallish breasts were contained in a Walt Disney princess bra. Malcolm almost laughed.
Eventually, Kaley forced the doctor to kneel and then slapped Dr. Darby hard several times across the face. Malcolm sprang forward and dragged her off. He was beginning to understand why Kaley was a charge of Simon Stone. She had an uncontrollable temper and needed to be watched. He was sure she had been in trouble before. For what?
Suddenly the doctor seemed to physically change and said, “I’m so embarrassed I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know how to fight,” she blubbered. Real tears spilled down her now bright red cheeks.
“You can say that again,” Kaley snorted.
“You have been acting very strange for the last several days,” Wes Robertson offered. “You’ve been bitchy, nasty, negative, obtrusive, and especially unreasonable. You’ve not been your usual self, Gillian.”
“I’ll second that,” Colonel Jacobs added. “I’ve threatened to put you on report several times. Are you yourself now?”
“How come I don’t remember?” she said in almost a sweet voice as she tried to get up from the floor. Her perfect hair was all disheveled now and everyone could see that she was emaciated from lack of food. Lisa helped her pull up her jumpsuit and re-zipped it.
“You have a few small but curious burns on your body,” Lisa noted. “And when did you eat last?”
“I don’t know,” she responded as she thought back. “The last thing I remember was studying a piece of a meteorite we have in the lab. I doused it with the isotope Aluminium-26. I wanted to determine the age of the meteorite. Since then everything is a blank. I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass.”
“Wait,” Professor Lisa Lange suddenly spoke out. “I have read about some people who claimed to have survived a visit in the triangle during an event. They reported that everyone’s personality changed while the event was occurring. They said that everyone became belligerent and unreasonable. They didn’t change back until they faced some sort of physical trauma.”
“Like being slapped around like Kaley did to you,” Malcolm quickly added.
“Maybe the meteorite affected me somehow?” Dr. Darby reasoned. “I’m sure it wasn’t the weapon though, it’s in the vault.”
“Do you think it has to do with combining the meteorite and the isotope?” Malcolm asked.
“Hum,” Dr. Darby said thoughtfully. “I’m going to have to do some more experiments.”
“Not before you take the time to answer our questions about the weapon,” General Stone insisted.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Meanwhile in a cave in Northeast Iraq, two men were having a heated argument. On the outside, the cave appeared to be like any other run-of-the-mill radical Islamic terrorist hideout. But it was in fact a massive underground ancient structure. It was a catacomb of many rooms. The front rooms were now filled with scientific equipment. The back rooms held many artifacts. Dedicated jihadist scientists worked on a special project for the Kyuur. The Arabic translation was the Cure. The Cure wasn’t affiliated with any other terrorist group. They were a lot more sophisticated. The Cure’s roots were based in the huge Islamic world banking system. The conspirators controlling the super-secret Cure organization knew that religion alone could not topple the societies they targeted, but that they could.
As usual, the two men argued loudly with a wild gesturing of their arms. They had argued many times before in the deep tunnels and no one paid any attention to them.
One man had a dirty shaggy beard that hadn’t been trimmed in this decade. He wore a faded red tee-shirt, blue jeans and running shoes. The clothes draped over his scrawny underfed physique. There were burn marks on much of the unclothed portions of his skin and he displayed rummy blood-shot eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. The worst part was not his appearance, it was that he had adopted an extremely foul attitude several days ago. He disagreed with everything anybody said. Arguing now came easy and frequent to him. His name was Doctor Mohammed Seyyed Raja. He was a lead scientist for the Cure.
The other man held an invoice in his manicured, diamond ring studded hand. He shook the document at Dr. Raja. He was a banker and wore a traditional Dishdasha Thobe that was worth more than Dr. Raja had made in his entire lifetime. The robe had to be oversized to accommodate the sheikh’s immense girth. He also wore an Arab head scarf called a Shemagh. It was the traditional garb of the rich and the banker was extremely rich.
Sheikh Ali Farhat had flown the last leg from Mecca to the barren Iraq desert where the cave was located for an important meeting. He had left his private jet in the holy city and had traveled by private helicopter, arriving only an hour ago. He found his frequent adversary in his private laboratory hidden deep in the tunnels.
“Dr. Raja,” the sheikh said in an even but purposeful tone. “You are spending entirely too much money on this unrealistic project. It is very wasteful and you must stop immediately,” he said as a reprimand.
“I perform the work for Allah,” the doctor said smugly to cut off several avenues of dispute. Even the Sheikh didn’t question Allah’s motives.
“Do you realize how much money it cost us for your little adventure in America? And it was all for nothing.” The businessman made no mention of the three jihadists who died there. They could easily be replaced. He only worried about his return on investment. He wasn’t seeing any here.
“Leave me alone Ali Farhat, Ya Kalb,” which literally meant, you dog, the scientist responded with an insult that he tossed at the banker with additional fiery language.
“Tozz Feek,” the banker retaliated. It meant screw you. “You’re going to be shut down.”
“I know this isn’t about money,” Dr. Raja screamed back. “You have always wanted me to increase my spending so you could skim more off the accounts the Cure put in your bank. So what’s the real problem?”
The sheikh said nothing for a few seconds as he realized that the scientist knew about his little hobby. “Your experiments are killing more of our people than the infidels. Our leader wants that stopped.”
“We must all make sacrifices for the glory of Allah,” Dr. Raja offered in response as he spread his arms. It was the common excuse used by the Cure to explain their mistakes.
“Don’t you understand? If you don’t stop making these natural disasters, you and I will be the next causalities,” the Sheikh shrieked as he shook like a small mountain of Jell-O.
“But this weapon could propel Islam into the commanding top position of all religions forever,” exclaimed the seemingly fanatical professor. He had a vacant look in his eyes. “No one would be able to stop us.”
“And how is that possible when our people are already everywhere? Every time you release the weapon, our people keep dying.”
“Once I perfect this weapon to work like the supremacists’ weapon does, we will be able to isolate each disaster to one square block. If we have any people inside the area we’ll just tell them to get out before we launch it,” Dr. Raja shouted back. He was getting more and more upset and was beginning to foam at the mouth. The sheikh realized that something wasn’t right with the passionate scientist.
“You have to stop,” Sheikh Ali Farhat declared flatly. “That’s an order from the Marja, our supreme leader. Do you dare defy his rulings?”
“But my work is too important,” Dr. Raja replied.
“Ya ibn el Sharmouta,” the banker shouted. It meant, son of a bitch. “You’re not listening.
We have ten men guarding this complex. I’m leaving them orders to blow up this facility even if you are not out of here in one week. You would be buried deep inside.”
“Then I’m taking the weapon,” Dr. Raja declared forcefully with his hands on his hips.
“No you’re not. It’s the reason we are sealing this cave. It will be buried in the mountain,” the banker blustered.
What the banker didn’t understand was that he had just made a mistake by telling the crazed scientist about the Cure’s plans. The deranged Doctor Mohammed Seyyed Raja immediately disowned his religion and began plotting against the Cure. It happened within one second.
The process was fueled by his current attitude and the fact that he had a better plan for the Weapon. He also had some help. I must escape, Dr. Raja suddenly thought. This idiot doesn’t realize that I don’t need a research laboratory to continue to use the weapon. I just have to be inside the vortex I am targeting. I’ll send a message to my men and tell them to meet me in the Karachi vortex where the Marja lives. Maybe by that time, the Americans will find out how to control the weapon better and I’ll be able to free myself from these parasites.
“I guess that I’ll begin packing my things then,” Dr. Raja said in a defeated tone. He actually had no intention of leaving. His desire to make the weapon work had only gotten stronger. Ali Farhat could not see the eyes of Dr. Raja. They burned with a white-hot desire to eliminate his enemies, and now the banker was one of them.
“That’s a good idea.” The sheikh commented. “Now hurry.”
“Would you mind holding onto a piece of diamond for me until I resettle?” Dr. Raja asked. “I found it in the meteorite. I believe it is very valuable and you as a banker can protect it for me,” he reasoned.
The banker quickly agreed. Once he had the diamond in his fat hands, it would never leave him. He had decided Dr. Raja was going to die very soon anyway.
***
Dr. Raja ran to the lab and chipped off a piece of the meteorite. He then doused it with the Aluminum-26 isotope and put it in a small cardboard box. Dr. Raja knew the burns on his body were caused by mixing only a little of the two ingredients. He also knew that his burns, while serious, were not quite fatal. He hoped that he had used enough of the isotope to cause death on the piece of meteorite he intended to hand to the banker.
He ran back to the part of the cave where they were meeting and offered the cardboard box to the banker. The man grabbed it and immediately stuffed it into a pocket in his tunic.
“I have to go now,” Ali Farhat quickly announced. “I’ve a meeting with our leader in six hours in Karachi.”
“To our leader, alayhi al-salam,” Dr. Raja said like a puppet. It meant, peace be upon him. He wondered if there was enough poison in the meteorite to infect the leader as well. The concoction would perform its magic in less than five hours.
“I will extend your greetings,” the sheikh replied.
“Ma’a Salama,” Mohammed Raja said. It was a traditional goodbye. He meant it to be the final goodbye.
Part Four
The Switch
Chapter Twenty-Three
Back at the Pit, Dr. Darby led the MAD team towards a sound-proof room which was located in a dark hallway off the main amphitheater room. Wes Robertson was dismissed and headed back to his desk.
She put her finger to her lips to indicate for them to be quiet and not ask questions while they proceeded to the enclosure. The team members looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and followed her lead. Soon they all were seated inside a room without windows and only one entrance. A guard stood outside.
“We are meeting inside this special room because what I have to tell you can’t be shared with the rest of my co-workers,” The doctor started.
“Now that sounds ominous,” General Stone said and crossed his arms. The others remained silent as they wanted to hear why she had said that.
“First let me tell you that we have a mole in our midst,” she said sadly.
“Do you mean in the Pit?” Kaley quickly asked as she looked around.
“Yes,” she responded. “They have been here for some time, maybe many years.”
“And how do you know this?” Malcolm inquired.
“Well there are hidden cameras and microphones in the Pit and also in part of my lab that don’t belong to the government,” the doctor explained. “We have left them in place until we can identify the mole. Please know that there are no devices in here — at least not today,” she added. “I have a security detail sweep it every day.”
“Who can we trust inside the Pit then?” the general quickly asked with a puzzled face.
“I can’t tell you that because I don’t know,” Dr. Darby said with regret.
“How do we know that it’s not you who is the mole?” Kaley asked suspiciously.
“I’m going to play a video from the President of the United States,” she replied. “This I hope will explain everything.” She pressed a button on the computer screen built into the table and the President appeared on the wall in front of the MAD team.
“General Stone,” the President said with a gracious smile. “Sorry for all the subterfuge, but it was necessary.
“You have basically two assignments. First, you need to identify and put a stop to the mole in the Pit organization. You can trust no one but Dr. Darby — I appointed her and she is very competent.
“Secondly, your team must find the other copies of the device known as the Switch and destroy them. They have been built from Philon’s writings. They are causing the loss of many lives and also weakening the integrity of the earth’s magnetic field. As usual, all of the resources of the United States are available to help you, but time is short, there’s already is a hole in the atmosphere over the South Pole.
“In addition, you are to take all the Philon formulas you can find and bring them to the Pit to be destroyed. Of course that means you need to stop the plots to use the devices and eliminate anyone who knows anything about Philon and his work. I hope that is clear.
“Good luck.”
The screen suddenly went blank.
***
No one said anything for several seconds while Dr. Darby handed out some paper and pens — like a school teacher would to her students. “The video will self-destruct in about ten seconds,” she commented.
“This is very Mission Impossible like,” Malcolm quipped.
“There were some sensitive statements,” General Stone said. It has to be destroyed. A few seconds later, there was a puff of smoke from under the cabinet on the wall.
“The computer screens are built into the table top. You may use them for research. They are clean,” Dr. Darby told them.
General Stone immediately went to place a call on his cellphone, but there was no reception. “I will need to verify this video with the President himself,” he explained to the doctor. He got up and headed to the door.
“Of course,” Dr. Darby agreed and stared right at him. “But why don’t you use the secure phone on the table?”
“Oh,” the general exclaimed. “I believe I will.”
***
Once the President confirmed that the video was authentic, The MAD team began collecting background information and planning their mission.
“We know so precious little about Philon and how he discovered a way to control the magnetic field,” Dr. Darby said as she stood at the head of the table. “Lisa, I understand that you, as a historian, have already done some work on Philon. What can you tell us?”
“I’ll try my best,” Professor Lange replied as she tried to look professional and sat straighter in her chair. “I did read as much of the treatise as I could find.”
“Please enlighten us professor,” General Stone asked and rolled his hands to speed her up.
“First, I’ll recap what we have already discussed,” Lisa started. “Philon was a Greek who lived in what is now called Constantinople, Turkey. He did travel extensively all ov
er the known world at that time and picked up knowledge everywhere he went. His writings are basically a how-to-do-it list of mostly military weapons and defenses. The Mechanic treatise was his most extensive work, it contained nine books. The final book, book nine, which we call Stratagems, was thought to be lost forever, but three copies of book nine have recently been verified. I know that there are three copies because I have personally seen other books in the treatise and they were copied by three different people. Logically speaking, three book exist and also there are three weapons.”
“We possess a copy of those books,” Dr. Darby threw out. “We confiscated it from a disillusioned former member of the clergy at the Vatican in the eighties. He had taken it from the archives as protest of global warming. We made a copy before we handed it back to the Pope.”
“By now you know that Philon invented a device to manipulate the magnetic field that protects the earth from the bad things in space,” Professor Lang continued. “I’m certain he tested it several times to make sure it worked before he wrote about it. His training as an engineer would have required it.
“He invented it because he could, and not for any specific reason as far as I can tell. He was a scientist above everything else. While he was writing his massive Mechanic treatise codex, he discovered that there were people who wanted to use some of his creations for nefarious reasons, especially the device that affected the climate — he called it the Switch. So he left out parts of his formulas in the treatise and included those parts in another short work called The Oracle Philon. He explains his reasoning in that short codex, but basically, you have to have both books to make any of his creations work properly. The Oracle Philon was meant for only a few special people.
“Last year, while on a massive dig in Egypt called the Lost Labyrinth of Egypt, I found the only copy of The Oracle Philon along with many ancient artifacts that had been moved there before the Library of Alexandria burned down. Unfortunately, my research team at that time included people from all walks of life including several Muslims and others that would be considered racist. Those groups recognized the power of the Switch. They each managed to make and steal a copy of The Oracle Philon. We only discovered this when they began using the formulas in the books to build a weapon. The others started testing it as soon as we did.”
The Oracle Philon Page 9