Truth Insurrected: The Saint Mary Project

by Douglas, Daniel P.

  “What about the Presidents since Truman? Certainly, if all of this is true, they would have—”

  “Kennedy was the last to know. Harold Groom resolved that.”

  “Groom? His claims were true?”

  “He was one of a handful of specialists over the years, yes. Groom also helped with Major Blair, and others.” Taylor paused, and then said, “I thought Agent Holcomb was to contact you once he was in possession of Blair’s dental records?”

  “He was, but I don’t even know if he has records.”

  “He has them.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “The same way I knew that Colonel Ritter tried to reel you in, as you say.”

  “I told you that.”

  “The same way I know that you abandoned your car at the Tucson Mall, and that’s as far as the search for you progressed, other than surveillance on your home and office.”

  “All right, fine, you have someone on the inside. Why the hell do you need me, anyway? You seem to have all the answers.” Harrison held his breath, but anxiety found an outlet. His right leg bounced up and down.

  “Let me ask you something. Were you completely forthcoming with Officer Ridley?” Harrison drew back, but before he could reply, Taylor continued. “You weren’t. If you had been, things may be much worse.”

  “I thought I could protect him that way.”

  “Right. You thought you could protect him. He may be dead, but we are not. Therefore, our mission can continue. Your discretion offered us a measure of protection.” Taylor leaned forward. He put a hand on Harrison’s bouncing knee. Harrison looked away from the green eyes staring at him. The nervousness subsided.

  Taylor continued, saying “The same methods they used against him could easily be employed against you. You wouldn’t even know it was happening. While you know enough to be a weak link, keeping certain facts from you will help to protect the investigation. As to your involvement, I could just say that I was impressed with your skill as an investigator, with your devotion and instincts. Certainly, this was part of the decision, but there is a larger purpose. In time, you will find out.”

  The lump formed again in Harrison’s throat. In a low, almost quivering voice, he said, “And this is for my protection?” He turned back to Taylor, forced himself to look directly at him. The cool, green eyes had reddened and moistened. Harrison never imagined that he could ever feel sympathy for Taylor.

  With a strained voice, Taylor said, “You never had any children, did you?”

  Harrison shook his head.

  “Parenthood is a special experience. How we raise our children means so much in terms of our relationships with each other and the future.” Taylor blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Saint Mary has produced offspring. Like any children, their potential, their bearing, is greatly influenced by the parents. Saint Mary used the life-seed from a recovered, dying alien to create a line of alien-human hybrids. Third-generation hybrids display superior intellect, learning abilities, and telepathic and telekinetic skills. The hybrids are intended as a unique security function for the Saint Mary Project. Their physical attributes allow them to blend in, and their mental attributes allow them to scan others, such as what likely happened to Officer Ridley.”

  “Mind readers?”

  “Yes, but much more than that. These hybrids look very human. They are also capable of mind control.” Taylor emphasized his next words. “They can make people do things against their will.”

  “Like Eric Gonzales getting drunk and walking into traffic,” Harrison said.

  “And like Airman Bresch committing suicide. Would you like to see what they look like?”

  Harrison nodded, and then watched Taylor retrieve a laptop computer from underneath the bed. Taylor set the computer on the bed next to them, booted it up, and then opened a video file.

  The gray figure had a humanoid body, but it was far from looking human. Enclosed inside some sort of white chamber, it flailed its fragile arms and body from side to side. A humming sound, like the one Harrison had heard in the desert, buzzed at an ever-increasing volume. The louder it became, the more the creature seemed to be in agony. Eventually, it collapsed into a heap on the floor and the humming sound subsided. Soon after, a hatch opened and a blond-haired man in casual clothes entered the chamber.

  “This is the third-generation male hybrid,” Taylor said.

  “He looks like an average Joe. Does he have a name?”

  “He does. He goes by James.”

  This man, this hybrid named James, kicked away the gray figure’s outstretched hand. He stepped back, unbuttoned his sweater, and removed a pistol from his waistline. Aiming the pistol at the figure, he said, “Aren’t you going to stop me, Thirty-Seven?”

  “Why?” Harrison said. “It’s not a threat, it’s injured, and it looks like it is dying for crying out loud.”

  The hybrid, James, said, “I’m waiting, and I’m not known for my patience.”

  Harrison watched James shoot the gray humanoid three times, two to the chest and one to the head, and then the video faded to black.

  Harrison turned to Taylor. The general shook his head and pointed at the computer. “There’s more.”

  The black screen gave way to another episode in the same white chamber as before. This time, medical technicians surrounded a woman strapped into an oversized black chair.

  “The female hybrid is strapped in the chair,” Taylor said.

  Harrison nodded. An old woman in a white smock holding a clipboard stood next to the hybrid.

  “What’s her name?”

  “The woman with the clipboard is Dr. Schmidt,” Taylor said.

  “No, I mean the—” After a sudden adjustment to the camera’s lens filter and angle, the video provided Harrison with an answer. He found himself staring at Janice Evans. The filtered image was a mottled blend of hazy green, white, and black patches. It made her look so pale. Her voice was strong, though.

  The revelation about Janice caused Harrison to reach for the video’s stop button on the computer. But the humming sound came again, and he halted his movement. And in horror, he watched as Janice thrashed in pain until she went limp. The lights came up, and he saw technicians racing to her side with a gurney. The video faded to black and stopped.

  Taylor started to speak, but Harrison put up his hands, preventing the general from saying anything.

  After several seconds, Harrison said, “Is she dead too?”

  “No.”

  “Thank God.”

  “She is recuperating.”

  Harrison lowered his head and stared at the floor.

  “Janice is not at all like the male hybrid. Although brother and sister, she is most definitely on our side. On your side, William. You will see her again.”

  “Right now I find it hard to fucking believe I’ll ever see anyone or anything outside of this motel ever again.” He stood, stretching and rubbing his leg. Limping as he paced, he said, “Ritter knows about the safe-deposit box and storage unit. Although not much in the way of evidence so far, Saint Mary could have already seized everything I’ve put inside those.”

  Taylor smiled and said, “Why did you trust Ritter during your ARDCom days?”

  “I don’t know, he just seemed different than the rest of you. He seemed…unpretentious and friendly. Likable.”

  “Different from the rest of us?”

  “Very much so.”

  “Your stored evidence, although limited, is safe for now. Let me unburden you from that worry. I do have something else I need to show you, though.” Taylor retrieved a briefcase from under the bed and set it next to the laptop computer. “Holcomb, on the other hand, faces a serious a problem.”

  “How immediate is the threat?”

  “If he reports back to duty, it will result in his death. A simple escort to headquarters to discuss procedural violations will unwittingly deliver him into the hands of the enemy. He’ll disappear for a while, and then
somewhere, perhaps in his own home, perhaps on the street, an accident will occur. We both know how his death will be portrayed. When he contacts you, make sure he understands that.”

  “I will.”

  “Saint Mary has yet to track him down, but they do have some leads they’re going to follow. It won’t take them long to look up Dr. O’Donnell. She was the one you intended to use to verify the skull was that of Major Blair, correct?”

  “If that’s what you heard, then she must be the one.”

  Taylor opened the briefcase and removed a folder. “This contains a complete dossier on James Evans, including photographs and biological data. Study his face well. If you ever see him, kill him without any hesitation and with as little forethought as possible. He must not sense what is coming. He would do the same to you.”

  “Is he the danger you spoke of in your first letter to me?”

  “James is an afterthought when compared to the overall danger.” The general’s voice grew grave, somber. “Not all aspects of Saint Mary have been negative. There has been a genuine research effort aimed at understanding and communicating with the alien species. Some of the people working in this area have made great strides…”

  Taylor paused, sighing; he seemed restless, agitated. He cleared his throat before continuing.

  “For decades, the United States was protected from foreign invasion because of our geography. The great oceans separated us from hostile powers. When the enemy equipped itself with ICBMs, our frontier became the open sky above our heads. It was a border over which an attack could cross at any time. All of this, our entire world, could have vanished in barely an hour if men acted without reason, without regard for our posterity.

  “So much fear, so much waste, comes when we abandon our more civilized qualities and values in favor of reckless pursuits. We let our lack of understanding back us into a corner. The unknown becomes our enemy. And we will destroy all that we cherish before we would admit that we were wrong.

  “One of the theories that exemplifies the mind-set at Saint Mary is something that you would be very interested in. Some believe that the extraterrestrials are systematically overhauling human genetics, returning us to a more primal level. They see evidence of the aliens’ success in the worldwide increase of violence, aggression, crime, racism, social stratification.”

  Now it was Harrison’s turn to feel agitated. “What do you believe?”

  “I believe there are no excuses for bad behavior. I have also come to believe that if a real extraterrestrial threat existed, we would already be dead, enslaved, or suffering in some other manner envisioned by the paranoid delusions of the Circle’s members. Unfortunately, they have made a decision that could change all of that. The Circle intends to take aggressive action against the perceived threat. They are desperate, and have subordinated all functions of Saint Mary to this effort.”

  “What kind of action?”

  “The specifics of the operation have not been made clear to me yet. What I do know is that it involves the use of ELF waves.”

  “ELF waves?”

  “Extremely low-frequency sound waves—it’s the humming sound you heard in the desert and on the video. In the desert, it was a live test against an alien ship. And as you saw on the video, their effects can be debilitating to them, making them vulnerable to more lethal, and more prosaic, weapons.”

  “This is how they are going to defend us? It didn’t seem to work in the desert.”

  “Their folly has yet to fully blossom. When it does, it could very well lead to war, a war that could devastate humankind.”

  “But you don’t know that for sure.”

  “In the past, our military has lost aircraft during encounters with these objects. One can reasonably presume these losses were the result of self-defense measures. Imagine what could happen if we began to succeed in disabling these craft or their occupants. If we miscalculate their intentions, as I believe we have, the repercussions could be irrevocable. We should not make this mistake. And you are an integral part of the effort to stop them.”

  “So I’ve gathered. Why are you doing this? You never struck me as the traitorous type.”

  “I’m not. They are the traitors.”

  “But you’ve helped them. Why stop now?”

  “When you make up lies for a living, you tend to gradually forget any truth in your life. Trouble is, when you look back on such a life, as I’ve been doing, there are no tangible reminders that you’ve accomplished anything useful or constructive. I depended on my family to give me a sense of that. But I don’t have a family anymore. It’s like my work, all just an illusion. Nothing real. All I have is the chance to create a little truth for a change. If I can do that, I will feel as though I’ve helped in some small way. You may not understand.”

  Harrison understood. He knew exactly how Taylor felt. “What more can I do to help?”

  Taylor nodded and then pulled another folder from inside the briefcase. He handed it to Harrison and said, “This will take you out of the country for a while, so you probably won’t have to look over your back so much. Your flight leaves San Diego tomorrow night. You’ll have to shave your beard and mustache. The fabricated visa and passport have an old FBI photo of you, before you grew the beard.”

  Harrison opened the folder and read the information. “Seems straightforward—why can’t you just do this yourself?”

  Taylor grabbed the newspaper from the bed and held it up so Harrison could see the headline and his photograph next to his face.

  “Right, sorry,” Harrison said. “Hard to keep it all straight.”

  “Besides, your undercover experience and language skills will serve us well in this matter.”

  “We’ll see. It’s been a while since I had to use them.” Harrison continued to review the information in the folder and then said, “This document we’re after, the one mentioned here, is it the only one that exists?”

  “The only original that exists, yes.”

  “How did you find out it was over there?”

  “I did my job.”

  “Are you sure it’s still there? And what about the code phrases listed here? You’re sure they’re correct?”

  “I have every reason to believe the document is still there and that the codes are correct. I am assured it will go smoothly.”

  Harrison flipped through the pages. “This will take three, maybe four days. Do we have that kind of time? I mean, if Holcomb can hold out for that long, and the remains are identified as Blair’s—”

  “They’re Blair’s.”

  “Then this next piece of evidence should give us enough to build a strong case. What do you plan to do with it?”

  “We will evaluate that when we meet again. But let’s just say that there are high-level political figures who will make for strong allies for us at the appropriate time.”

  “High-level political allies?” Harrison said, rolling his eyes.

  Taylor smiled and said, “Come on, TJ, you haven’t lost all faith, have you?”

  Harrison shrugged and said, “No, I haven’t. I guess. Where should we meet upon my return?”

  “I recommend your hometown, Los Angeles. This will be convenient for another step we must take, and I would also recommend in your next communication with Holcomb that you suggest this to him.”

  “Any particular place?”

  “Remember where you two stayed during the Rockwell audit?”

  “How could I forget—we were there for a month and half.”

  “I will be there next Monday afternoon.” From inside the briefcase, Taylor removed a DVD, another folder, and a set of keys. He set them on the table. “It’s a copy of my service record and a video I made of myself. On it, I make a full and complete confession about Saint Mary, my work, and all of my lies.”

  “And the keys?”

  “A car is parked out back for you. A blue Chevy Caprice, Nevada plates. Just park it at the airport in San Diego and use it for the drive to LA u
pon your return. Obviously, your firearm will have to stay behind as well, but you should be safe while out of the country. Any questions before I leave?”

  “About a million of them. But here’s one for you…” Harrison stepped toward the drawn curtains and tugged them open. He pointed at the sky and said, “Where do they come from?”

  “The truth has finally hit you, huh? It takes a while to accept it, I know. As to where they’re from, well, the more compelling question is, where did we come from?”

  Chapter 37

  Travels, Tactics, and Recollections

  After returning to his motel room with more questions than he had before leaving it, Harrison decided to focus on the first major stage in his current assignment: getting to Russia. Although Harrison remained worried about Holcomb and Ridley, Taylor had provided him sufficient information to convince him that the best thing he could do for them and for this case was to take this next step.

  When Harrison finished shaving after a long, cleansing shower, he looked at the face staring back at him from the mirror. It appeared ten years younger, surprising him. Getting dressed, just past midnight on Christmas morning, he felt reassured, refreshed, and anxious to start his journey.

  As he took one last look around the room before leaving, the BlackBerry smartphone clipped to his hip vibrated. Harrison snatched the phone off his hip and read the incoming text message: “Clipping Colgate coupons, a twenty-dollar value, to send to helpful friends. Mrs. Claus working hard, as expected.”

  “Thank God,” Harrison said, realizing Holcomb sent the message. Without hesitating, Harrison placed a call to the message’s originating phone number.

  After one ring, Holcomb answered the call, saying, “The bald eagle has landed.”

  “It’s been a while since we last talked, you okay?”

  “What’s past is past. Why brood about it? But I lost my phone in the process. You owe me for a new one I bought.”

  “By the way, you work too hard, so stay on vacation.”

  “Agreed.”