by David Capps
“Something is horribly wrong,” he said. “I’ve been watching the activity on the surface of the sun. The only activity has been the three CMEs that have come at us, each one exactly seventeen days apart. Nothing else has happened—no other disturbances, no fluctuations, nothing.” Dr. Spencer turned back to face Jake and Honi. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but the only conclusion I can come to is that the CMEs have been artificially generated. I just don’t know how that could be done. I mean the timing is just too precise. Three solar storms in a row—exactly seventeen days apart? Come on!”
“And somehow,” Jake added. “Whoever has managed to do this, has found a way to make the storm bigger and more dangerous.”
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Spencer said. “It’s as if someone is trying to kill the Earth.”
“Would a 1.2 megaton hydrogen bomb be big enough to create a large CME?” Jake asked.
Dr. Spencer raised his right hand to his chin, stroking his whiskers as he thought. “Yes, yes,” he replied. “That would be more than enough. But that can’t work.”
“Why not?” Jake asked.
“Because the detonation would have to be on the surface of the sun, and the bomb would melt long before you could get it there. It wouldn’t work.”
“One last question,” Jake said. “How long did it take the CME to get from the sun to planet earth?”
Dr. Spencer referred to his notes. “Seventeen point six hours.”
Jake and Honi left and worked their way back to Alexandria and the NSA building.
“So what are you thinking?” Honi asked.
“I think someone has found a way to intentionally create an Extinction Level Event, ‘the Event’ Sylvia Cuthbert referred to, and we have less than sixteen days to stop it.”
* * *
While Jake and Honi were in D.C., they stopped in to update Briggs.
“This is extremely disturbing,” Briggs said. “You think Senator Thornton is involved with this mysterious group?”
“From what we can tell at this point, there are at least three different levels to the Phoenix Organization.” Jake said. “The lowest level is organized crime—the drug cartels, the Russian mob, the Yakuza, possibly the Chinese Triad. The middle level includes people like General Teague and Senator Thornton–people embedded within the governmental and military structure. The top level involves people at the highest levels of the financial sector—the central banks, large international banks and highly placed members of Wall Street.”
“Any idea who is running the whole thing?” Briggs asked.
“It may not be structured that way,” Jake replied. “In government and law enforcement, it’s a top down, hierarchal organization. My sense is the arrangement was born out of necessity, rather than a fixed plan. Money and a desire for power and control is the glue that holds the Phoenix Organization together.”
“So no cohesive or ethnic membership we can trace?” Briggs asked.
Jake shook his head. “Not that I can see at this point, which means there has to be some degree of mistrust between the different sectors of the Phoenix Organization.”
“But what you’re suggesting is typically a long-term divide-and-conquer strategy. We have, what, fifteen days?” Briggs replied. “There’s no time to develop that kind of surveillance and investigational task force.”
“No, there isn’t,” Jake replied. “Right now, we need to grab Senator Thornton and see what we can learn.”
Briggs blew air out through his lips. “Without a solid evidence trail, that’s not going to happen. You can’t go anywhere near him, you hear me?”
“I do,” Jake said reluctantly.
Briggs looked at Honi. She nodded.
“So how bad was the damage from the solar storm?” Jake asked.
“We’re still getting reports coming in, but right now seventy percent of the country is without electricity. The Department of Energy is saying we can have power restored to the major cities in two to three weeks, two months for everyone else. Stores are being looted or stripped of their inventory. Gang violence is running out of control, and police are overwhelmed. All fifty states have declared a state of emergency and all fifty governors are demanding to know what the feds are going to do about it.”
“Injuries?” Jake asked.
“So far hospitals across the country are reporting tens of thousands of cases of what appear to be radiation sickness. Beyond that I just don’t know.”
Honi’s phone rang. “Excuse me, sir. I have to take this. It’s Major Stafford.”
Briggs motioned to the door. She got up and left, closing the door behind her.
“Do you think the Phoenix Organization and the solar storm are connected?” Briggs asked.
“My gut tells me they are,” Jake replied. “But at this point, I don’t have any hard evidence connecting them.”
Jake heard a gentle knock on the door and Honi re-entered.
“Major Stafford is downstairs,” she said. “He says we need to go with him, right now.”
“I think we have the subject covered,” Briggs said.
Jake and Honi left and exited the southeast corner of the FBI building. General Davies’ black limo stood in the street with Major Stafford standing next to the back door. Both Jake and Honi looked at the small four-star flag on the front bumper and glanced at each other.
“We have a meeting,” Stafford said. “Immediately.”
Jake and Honi climbed into the back of the limo with Stafford right behind them.
“So where’s this meeting?” Jake asked.
“Not far,” Stafford replied.
The limo pulled out onto Pennsylvania, headed northwest, turned right on East Executive Avenue, left on Alexander Hamilton Place and swung right on State Place, pulling into the circular drive on the south side of the White House. Jake, Honi and Stafford got out, showed their ID packs to the Secret Service guards and were ushered into the oval office. General Davies sat on the couch and motioned for the three of them to take a seat.
“He’ll be in momentarily,” General Davies said.
Jake looked around at the room. It was oval, alright, with the Presidential Seal woven into the carpeting. A side door opened and the President entered. Everyone stood. General Davies and Major Stafford saluted. Jake and Honi simply stood at attention, not knowing what else to do. The President returned the salute.
“Please sit,” the President said. “General Davies said you three have made significant progress in investigating who is behind the current threat, and have identified high-level members of this phantom Phoenix Organization. Who else do you think is involved?”
The three glanced at each other.
“Senator Thornton,” Jake said firmly.
The President closed his eyes momentarily and nodded. “So what do you think is going on?” the President asked.
Jake hesitated as he put his thoughts in order. He took a deep breath and began.
“I think we are dealing with a trans-national organization that is comprised of some very wealthy families, international financial giants, central banks, people deeply embedded within our government and military, and an organized crime faction. I believe these people have somehow managed to create solar storms, are capable of enhancing the strength of those storms and are currently aiming the storms at planet earth. I strongly believe we have fifteen days or less to find and stop these people before we experience an Extinction Level Event. What I don’t know is why, sir.”
The President nodded slightly. “Do you think you can find the people responsible in time to stop them?”
Jake glanced down at the carpeting and then back up at the President.
“Honestly, sir, I don’t know. I don’t think we can without a lot more help.”
The President studied Jake for a moment. “How close are you to arresting Senator Thornton?”
“We aren’t. We know he’s involved at the upper level of this organization, but we don’t have anywhere near en
ough evidence to even bring him in for questioning. Right now, he’s untouchable.”
The President walked over and sat at his desk, pulled a three-ring binder from the left-hand drawer and opened it. He flipped pages until he found the correct place. “Senator Thornton may be untouchable by you, but he’s not by me.” He wrote on a sheet of stationary, signed it and took a seal out of the drawer, embossing the document before he handed it to Jake.
“The two of you and Major Stafford now work directly for me. You will report your progress and findings to only me. Understood?”
Jake and Honi nodded in agreement.
“I have a special military unit of thirty highly-trained soldiers that will be available to you from this point on. Major Stafford will be your liaison with my unit. He will be teamed up with you, as well. Any questions?”
“Yes, sir,” Jake said.
The President looked up at him.
“Secret Service Agent Ken Bartholomew has been a great help to us. I would like him to join us, if that’s okay with you, sir.”
The President looked over at General Davies.
“Agent Bartholomew is very capable, sir. He was instrumental in locating the evidence against General Teague. He’d be a good addition.”
“Very well,” the President replied. “General Davies will be available to you at all times. He will read you in.” The President got up and left.
Jake looked at the document in his hand. It was an executive order: signed, numbered and embossed with the Seal of the President of the United States, authorizing the arrest and interrogation of Senator Thornton by any means deemed necessary.
“I don’t understand,” Jake said, as he handed the order to Honi.
“You will,” General Davies replied. “We have to pick up Agent Bartholomew first. Let’s go.”
General Davies, Major Stafford, Jake and Honi left the White House and climbed back into the General’s limo. The driver took them the short distance to the Secret Service building. Ken was standing on the sidewalk waiting for them. The limo stopped and Jake opened the door.
“Get in.”
“All they told me was to be down here immediately,” Ken said as he came through the limo door. “What going on?”
General Davies turned toward the front and spoke to the driver. “Take us to the safe house, and isolate the back section.”
“Yes, sir,” the driver replied. He closed the partition and a green light came on above the glass barrier, indicating that the passenger section was secure from all surveillance.
“The four of you now work directly for the President of the United States until further notice,” General Davies said. “We have received a demand from the Phoenix Organization you are investigating. Yesterday’s solar storm was a warning, a demonstration of capability, if you will. This Organization is demanding that every nation on the planet submit to their rule and authority, unconditionally. The larger nations, the U.S., Russia, China and Great Britain, are to coerce all of the smaller nations into compliance with the threat of nuclear annihilation. All nations must comply and submit no later than fifteen days from now, midnight, Universal Time. Failure of any nation to comply will result in the destruction of the planet. It’s everybody in or we all die. A representative of the Phoenix Organization must be installed as the ruling figure for each nation by the deadline. “
“We survived this solar storm,” Jake said. “Maybe we can survive another.”
General Davies shook his head. “The next solar storm will be a thousand times stronger than yesterday’s event. Every living creature left above ground will die from the radiation. We can’t protect enough people. We have to find a way to stop them.”
“I assume compliance is not an option?” Jake asked.
“Not an option,” General Davies replied dryly.
“In two weeks the earth’s geomagnetic shield will be less than ten percent of its normal strength,” Jake said. “They had to know the pole shift was going to happen well in advance of this for the ‘Event’ to take place. How did they know, when we didn’t?”
“We did know,” General Davies said. “Years ago. We didn’t want the public to panic. The pole shift was supposed to pass during the solar minimum, so we thought the actual danger was minimal.”
“How are they creating the solar storms?” Jake asked.
“I’ll let the Professor explain that. We’re almost there.”
The limo pulled into an underground parking area for a new apartment building and came to a stop in front of a glass-enclosed stair and elevator. Camo-clad soldiers stood in a ring around the enclosure, each holding an MP5 machine gun.
“None of the apartments are rented,” General Davies said. “Parts of the building are still under construction. It’s about as out of the public eye as we could manage under the circumstances.”
The driver opened the limo door. General Davies led the way into the elevator and up to the fourth floor. The hallway was lined with unpainted drywall and bare wood trim. The floor was dirty plywood, with splotches of joint compound and white dust scattered about. The scent of pine and drywall compound filled the air. A soldier opened an apartment door as they approached. General Davies walked in, with Jake, Honi, Major Stafford and Ken following.
“Professor, these are the people I told you about,” General Davies said. “I’m not going to make introductions as a matter of security.”
The Professor was old and thin, with white unkempt hair. He wore glasses and a sweater even though the air was warm. He sat in a padded chair with his right hand clutching an old wooden cane. His left hand rolled back and forth with a tremor. Folding chairs had been set up in a semicircle in front of the old Professor. General Davies stood as the rest of the group sat.
“I’m ninety-four years old,” the Professor began in a shaky voice. “I probably look fairly good for having been dead for the last five years.” He chuckled. “That’s when I got out of the Phoenix Organization. The Defense Intelligence Agency helped stage my death so the Organization wouldn’t hunt me down.” He looked each person in the eye, moving his head from left to right.
“From the beginning?” General Davies said softly. The Professor nodded.
“I was a bright, new PhD in theoretical physics back in 1947. Thought I was hot stuff back then. Had no idea how much I didn’t know. I was assigned by the university to do a research project for the military. I was flown to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base near Dayton, Ohio in September of that year. Couldn’t imagine what the intense security was all about. But I found out—a hanger under the ground with a damaged flying saucer inside. My job was to figure how the danged thing worked. Eventually I got a basic understanding of what the drive system was all about.
“I was subsequently hired by a corporation to reverse-engineer the drive system of that saucer for the military. Year after year, we set up experiments and built prototypes. Early on in the process, a vice president of the corporation pulled me aside and gave me huge cash payments to see that every experiment didn’t work in some way. I was so stupid back then. I took the money. After sixteen years of failure and billions of dollars down the drain, the military walked away—abandoned the project. Little did I know that the corporation was secretly building prototypes in another country, out in the desert.
“We had unlimited funds and equipment. Everything we wanted we got. Twenty years later we had a functioning anti-gravity drive and our own saucer. We even managed to duplicate the Magnetic Field Disrupter that reduced inertia to one ninth of what it would have been.”
“A magnetic what?” Jake asked.
“It’s a circular tube filled with mercury vapor around the passenger section of the saucer. We would magnetically spin the vapor around inside the tube. When it reached 50,000 rpm, the entire inner section developed an ionized glow. We discovered that gravity is not based on mass, but is a function of a subatomic electromagnetic field. The disrupter changes that field. The human body will stand an acceleration of
only a little more than five times the pull of gravity, or 5 Gs. With the disrupter, we could accelerate the saucer at 45 Gs without damaging our bodies.”
“Please continue, Professor,” General Davies said.
The Professor took a handkerchief out of his sweater pocket and wiped his mouth. “Nineteen eighty-three, we made our first flight out of the earth’s atmosphere. In eighty-four we went to the Moon, and five years later we went to Mars. With the anti-gravity drive, it took less than twelve hours to get to the red planet. Your voyager satellites took four decades to reach the outer planets. We can get there in a matter of a few days.
“We began building our own space station in orbit around the sun. We perfected robotics to do the work on the station because of the high levels of radiation. We transferred materials using the saucer. By then we had our own fleet of saucers. We could go anywhere in the solar system. The feeling of being involved in something that elite was intoxicating, and addictive. We began to understand more and more about the sun, its energy system, its magnetics and its power.
“I wasn’t the only one to become seduced and addicted to the elite status and the superiority. I was enthralled with the knowledge and the power. But eventually I came to my senses. I could see where the elite status and the power were leading, and I didn’t want to go there. In 1964, a Russian astronomer by the name of Nikolai Kardashev theorized that civilizations could be classified by how they were able to extract and use energy. On his scale, we were a Class Zero civilization. He postulated that a Class I civilization would be able to use the energy produced by the planet. A Class II civilization would use the energy output of a star, and a Class III civilization would use the energy output of an entire galaxy.
“Drunk with knowledge and the thirst for power, the Phoenix Organization sought not to use the power of the sun for the benefit of civilization and of mankind, but to use it as a weapon. The damned fools believed they were becoming more civilized by developing more powerful weapons.” The Professor stopped and wiped his mouth again. “That’s when I left. I believe they have completed the space station and are now demonstrating their power over the planet. I don’t know how you are going to stop them. For me, it doesn’t really matter. I am old. I’m not going to survive much longer, either way. But I cannot stand to see the entire human population threatened and forced into submission by such madmen. I have told you my story. The rest is up to you.”