Fragmentation

by Gregg Cameron

  “Okay, how do we go about this?”

  “Simple. I call and we go over.”

  After Colleen dialed the number, David heard one side of the conversation: “Mrs. Land, it’s Colleen. How are you? Very good, thank you and how’s Linda and the baby? Oh good, will they be down over the Fourth? I was wondering if the Senator might have some time for me this afternoon? Lunch, yes, but I have a friend with me; his name is David. Okay, around noon it is and thanks.”

  “Well?”

  “They want us to come over for lunch around noon.”

  Chapter 20

  Ocean Beach, NJ: Saturday June 16.

  After spending a couple hours organizing their notes and thoughts, David went to the rear of the house and retrieved one of the metal samples. They gathered everything up and headed for the Land’s house in the boat.

  George and Mindy Land’s house was set on about an acre of prime bay front real estate. The house was a nice, but not extravagant, expanded Cape Cod done in cedar shingles with a three-car garage connected to the house via a breezeway.

  On the bayside, was a large two level deck that stepped down to the dock area. Behind the house in an open part of the yard was a helipad where the Senator’s Bell Jet Ranger helicopter sat.

  They tied up at the dock next to a 17’ Boston Whaler. The slip on the other side housed a 34’ Sea-Ray.

  David felt uncomfortable lugging the dirty sample into the house of a person he had never met so he left it in the boat under the front seat. Mrs. Land came out to greet them and gave Colleen a big hug.

  “Mrs. Land, I would like you to meet my friend, David Albright.”

  “It’s Mindy, David and it is certainly a pleasure to meet you. George is inside working on our lunch. He loves to cook when we are here, but I cannot get him to boil water when we’re at home. Please come in.”

  Inside, the house was a blend of traditional knotty pine paneling in the living room and a state of the art modern kitchen. Beyond the kitchen was a porch facing the bay. Senator Land wiped his hands on a towel and gave Colleen a hug, then turned to David and said, “And who might this handsome lad be?”

  Colleen blushed a little then replied, “Senator Land, this is my friend David Albright.”

  “Welcome David,” shaking his hand, “are you from New Jersey?”

  “No sir, actually I’m from Georgia, near Atlanta, Sir.”

  “David, please call me George. Would either of you like something to drink? David, how about a beer?”

  “Thanks, that would be fine.”

  “Lunch is almost ready; we are having curried chicken salad, my specialty. Here,” handing David a bottle of beer, “We will have lunch on the porch and tell Mindy I’m ready to serve.”

  “Smells good,” replied David.

  They joined Mindy and George on the porch as a delightful afternoon breeze blew gently through the screens. The table was set with a blue tablecloth and blue glass plates with matching glasses. In the center sat a large bowl of the Senator’s curried chicken salad and a plate of rolls.

  “Help yourself; we don’t stand on ceremony here.”

  The curried chicken was excellent and David, who had never tried a dish made with curry, deemed it an instant favorite.

  “Colleen,” the Senator began, “Mindy tells me you want to talk to me about something. What can I help you with?”

  “I’m not sure where to begin, but I think we are in some sort of trouble with the government.”

  “Well, you have come to the right place. What is troubling you?”

  “Senator,” Colleen began to cry saying, “We are being followed. Both our apartments were bugged and ransacked. All the copies of David’s report at work and samples from the Aratusa were stolen from Farrell Labs in a break in. When we were in Washington our rooms were bugged again and someone took pictures of us as we left the National Archive Building.”

  “What makes you think it’s the Government?”

  “It’s because of what we found.”

  What you found?”

  “Yes, a few weeks ago, David called me about some samples he was working on for the DeCosta Scrap Yard. They were pieces of an old Navy ship named the Aratusa, I mean the USS Morgan.”

  “Colleen, the Aratusa sank over 60 years ago and as I remember, all hands were lost.”

  “Sir,” David continued, “the Aratusa is still around and for some reason it was re-named the USS Morgan about five months after being reported lost at sea.”

  “How did you learn this?”

  “The DeCosta Scrap Yard told us it was the Aratusa. They said the name had been painted over as the USS Morgan but there were lots of places in the hull that said Aratusa.”

  “That’s very interesting because the government isn’t supposed to do that kind of thing, especially when lives were lost.”

  “There’s more. The samples of steel taken from the Aratusa contained human cells which were locked within the molecular lattice of the steel in a very strange way.”

  “What do you mean David?”

  “Have you ever heard of the Philadelphia Experiment?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think it ever really happened.”

  “We think it did. We also believe they tried it again on the Aratusa and actually lost the ship for a period of five months. When they found the Aratusa again, the entire crew was either dead or missing. They decided to keep the cover story of it being lost at sea and hastily re-named it the USS Morgan. Morgan was the first name of the Aratusa’s original owner, Morgan Sterling III.”

  “Perhaps it’s just a mix-up.”

  “Well, in the beginning we were just curious about it so we went to the Philadelphia Library and did a bit of research. There was no mention of either ship in the Navy’s computerized shipwreck database, but the Lloyds Register of Ships shows the Aratusa was conscripted to the US Navy on March 22, 1942 for use as a troop carrier. Lloyd’s Registry notes it was lost at sea on December 10, 1944. There was no mention of it ever being re-named the USS Morgan. This week, when we visited the National Archives to look into the matter under the Freedom of Information Act, we were questioned as to why we were interested. We replied that we were entitled to look at it under the Freedom of Information Act. The attendant informed us there had been a one-week hold on the material and most likely, it would become classified again very soon. Then she told us the hold had expired the day before and we could look at it, which seemed a little strange.

  We found that the Aratusa, after participating in a top-secret experiment called Project Bright Star involving some stealth techniques, was lost at sea on December 10, 1944. The document goes on to say, it was later located floating several hundred miles off the coast of Bermuda on April 14, 1945. It mentions there were serious problems with those of the crew who remained alive. They towed the Aratusa back to the Philadelphia Navy Yard, renamed it the USS Morgan and the Navy consigned it as a research vessel. It was going through something called, “Dimensional Pulse Rephrasing of Frequency.” It also states; this rephrasing was partially successful on the ship, but far less successful on the remaining crew members.”

  “That’s quite a story.”

  “All of this took place right at the end of WWII. I think some of the people involved were released from the service and the ship just remained at the yard for the next sixty some years.”

  “When we looked under the USS Morgan name we also found a recently dated “Order to Scuttle” for the USS Morgan. A Commander Robin Camp of the Defense Intelligence Agency signed the order. The USS Morgan was to be towed off the continental shelf and sunk for use as a fish sanctuary in the spring.”

  “The water there is thousands of feet deep. When the government scuttles a ship for that use, it is done in shallow water. This sounds like they wanted to lose it permanent
ly.”

  “Senator, here is where we found another document which says there will be a savings of almost $825,000 if the ship is scrapped rather than scuttled. A Lieutenant JG Robert Calafano of the General Accounting Office signed that order a few days after the order to scuttle. There were also some documents consigning it to the DeCosta Scrap Yard.”

  “Okay, probably the Defense Intelligence Agency is covering up what occurred in the 40’s. I don’t understand why they would do this, except the government might owe the families some restitution. What is interesting, is why anyone would care today, unless this has some far-reaching consequences or involves someone at the highest level of our present day government. I would also say it’s probably the Defense Intelligence Agency that is behind having you followed. They can be very rigid once they get their teeth into something.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Well, you are in trouble and they are probably watching your apartment as well. With that being said, my first concern is your safety. In your present situation, you are easily tracked and will be caught unless we do something fast. We are going to have to do two things; first, we have to get rid of the rental car you have and secondly, we must create a smoke screen. After that, a safe place to stay.”

  “How are we going to do all of that? We don’t have much money and they will find us when we turn in the rental car to Budget.”

  “Now Colleen, you leave all of that up to me. Here’s what I propose. Tonight, we will take your rental car to the Bricktown Airport. We’ll call Budget to come and pick it up in the morning. I will file my usual flight plan to Washington, but stop at Bricktown and pick you both up. The airport is a small one and is closed on Sunday night. You will leave the car parked in the administration parking lot, walk out to the grass runway directly in front of the office and I will pick you up there. Colleen, do you remember where the Bricktown Airport is?”

  “Yes, of course, you used to keep the helicopter there before you had the heliport built in your yard.”

  “That’s the place; it’s about seven miles from here. We will do this at night so they cannot track you via satellite. I also suggest one of you go over to your house and bring the car here so we can keep it in the garage.”

  “I almost forgot; we still have two more samples of metal from the Aratusa.”

  “I thought they were all taken from the lab during the break-in?”

  “Those were, but we wanted to see the ship after what we had found, so we went back to DeCosta and told the foreman I had inadvertently lost the original samples and got two more. It was really just an excuse to show Colleen the ship.”

  “Where is the sample now?”

  “In Colleen’s boat, under the front seat, I’ll bring it in”.

  “By the way,” asked Colleen, “where are we going?”

  “I’m taking all of us to our apartment in Washington. It will be safe there. I will have one of my staff call Farrell Labs and tell them that you are both part of a Senate investigation. First thing on Monday, I will issue a resolution for an investigation into this matter on the Senate floor.”

  “Senator, we have very little cash left and I don’t want to impose on you.”

  “Colleen, please don’t worry about that. I will take care of it and you won’t owe me a penny. When our Government tries a cover-up, it should certainly not be a burden on innocent people. In fact, they should be rewarded for bringing it to their attention. Say no more about this.”

  David returned with the sample and handed it to Senator Land.

  Chapter 21

  David and Colleen went back to her house to pack their things and retrieve the car. While they were putting their suitcases in the rental car David noticed the remaining sample was still alongside the house. It was a bit dirty and Colleen suggested they hide it in the now unused underground trash container located behind her house. They had to poke around to find it as the gravel had covered it over making it an excellent hiding place. They placed the sample inside and recovered it with gravel. Colleen locked up the house and they drove back to Senator Land’s place pulling the car into his garage.

  The rest of the afternoon was spent filling the Senator in on the events of the past few weeks. They went over in detail how the attendant questioned them at the National Archives when they inquired about Dimensional Pulse Rephrasing of Frequency and how a new attendant at the Archives kept asking questions and making notes.

  Mindy questioned them about how they met and thought it was intriguing that some molecules actually brought them together.

  Dinner was to be grilled steaks, wild rice and a tossed salad.

  “No beer tonight, as we will be flying,” intoned the Senator. “I suggest you both call your parents and let them know you will be away for a few days.”

  Colleen tried but was unable to reach her parents or leave a message.

  Under cover of darkness, Colleen and David set out for the Airport. Colleen drove, as she was familiar with the back roads. Summer shore traffic was moderately heavy as they crossed the Mantoloking Bridge and headed toward Breton Woods. A few miles past Breton Woods, Colleen made a left turn onto a gravel road and followed it for about a mile.

  Back in Normandy Beach, Senator George Land was going through the preflight procedure on his Bell Jet Ranger while Mindy loaded suitcases into the luggage compartment.

  The winding gravel road was filled with ruts and they bumped along slowly, finally arriving at a parking area lit by a single mercury vapor lamp. Ahead lay the administration building with the grass runway beyond. There were perhaps eight cars in the parking area and they selected a place near two others so as not to stand out. The runway area beyond the administration building was dark and lit only by the distant light from the parking area. Along the side, a number of tethered airplanes stood like specters silently watching. David and Colleen inched their way toward the runway, finally standing under the wing of an ancient DC-3. In the distance the discernible thump, of a chopper grew increasingly louder.

  Before leaving the house, Senator Land had called the airport and left a message inquiring about chartering a plane to Scranton, PA for two people. He left the name D. Albright and said that he would call back Monday morning to confirm his flight.

  As the chopper flew over the airport parking lot, a spotlight came on illuminating the area below and guiding it to the runway. With their heads ducked and luggage in their hands, Colleen and David ran to the waiting chopper.

  Senator Land motioned Colleen to the front seat while David climbed in the back and Mindy stored their luggage. They quickly took off and climbed to 2,500 feet, then headed southward. It was just after 9:00 PM.

  “Want to fly it Colleen?”

  “You bet.”

  “Okay, just follow a heading of one-eight-two, almost due south.”

  Colleen looked like a professional, checking the gauges, adjusting the headset, scanning the horizon for traffic and setting some switches on the overhead console. David was awestruck; Colleen was flying this sophisticated jet helicopter just as if she was driving a car.

  “Traffic at two-four-zero, looks commercial.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Mindy, how long has Colleen been flying this?”

  “Oh gosh, for a lot of years, but she never bothered to get her license. She learned on our first one, also a Bell, but smaller and simpler. I think she was about sixteen. Ever since, she has loved to fly and George likes to have her do it. She is like his other son, if you know what I mean.”

  They were cruising at 3,000 feet and had just passed over the southern tip of Long Beach Island. On the right, the last rays of sunlight gleamed over the horizon, blending into the purple of the night. Ahead, as if diamonds set in purple velvet, the lights of Atlantic City blazed against the night sky. Their airspeed indicated 120 knots. The constant
whine of the jet engine and the rotor’s pulsating beat muted the cockpit conversation.

  “Colleen, at Atlantic City change course to two-four-zero and maintain that heading for about six minutes.”

  George fiddled with the planes GPS guidance system while Colleen flew and scanned the sky for traffic,

  “Low and slow on the left at about 1,500 feet,” She repeated.

  “Roger, I’ve got them.”

  “Dulles tower, this is Jet Ranger two-niner-seven-victor. Estimated time of arrival is 11:47 PM. Request weather and landing instructions.”

  “Roger that, two-niner-seven. Weather is clear and visibility is twenty miles. Approach on a heading of one-six-zero and change altitude to 1,600 feet. At five miles out change altitude to 500 feet and heading to two-four-five. Welcome back, Senator.”

  “It’s good to be back.”

  As they approached within the five-mile range, George took over the controls and landed on pad number three. He and Colleen went through the shutdown procedure. The Senator made the appropriate entries in the aircraft’s logbook and instructed the ground crew to top up the tanks. Before they left, he took out another logbook and made an entry, saying, “There are 163.5 hours in your book Colleen, you really should test for your license. You are a good pilot.”

  They took their bags from the compartment, passed through the terminal and got on the shuttle to long-term parking. The drive to the Senator’s apartment took about twenty minutes.

  The Land’s apartment was located in a fashionable part of town catering to members of the Government who maintained multiple residences. Located on the third floor of the Brinkley Building, the apartment could only be described as elegant. It had three bedrooms, three and a half baths, a large living room, formal dining room, kitchen and a library. In fact, it was a vast contrast from the casual atmosphere of their summer home at the New Jersey shore.