Invisible Forces

by J. K. Scott

  I felt elated my identity would be protected. I knew the secret government would bury or cleanse the gurus’ work. Only a few of us would know the real story.

  I was concerned I’d be losing my identity. It meant I’d be relegated to a protective program. Turbero left the stage and disappeared behind a curtain. The group didn’t move. Time felt suspended as I sat in silence with the others. The screen went blank as the dark web bidders’ time clock stopped with forty-eight minutes left. Maya advised me not to move or look back as we waited for the others to leave.

  After the powers discreetly left, I stood in the aisle unsure what to do.

  Maya said, “Before you leave, I need to hug you.”

  She pressed her athletic body close to mine, and her sweet scent filled my nostrils. She whispered in my ear, “I still believe you.” She released her hug and turned to Rio, saying, “Shall we go?”

  Cajun shook my hand without saying a word. He knew this was the only agreeable solution for the outcome. I admired him. I would have liked to know the others under different circumstances.

  Peter exited with Maya, Rio and Allan. I stopped to glance at the Arbitrator Theater, feeling empty, and wondered what would happen next. Turbero hurried toward me. He looked exhausted and appeared defeated. This whole ordeal had taken a toll on him, but I knew he had skillfully negotiated for my protection.

  Turbero patted me on the back. “Come on, Dak; we still have things to do.”

  I couldn’t fathom what that could be as I followed him up the remaining stairs. We hurriedly left the aptly named Arbitrator Theater, where critical decisions that would never be known to the populace were made.

  Turbero guided me to an elevator, and we descended to the Andromeda train station. I wondered if my plans to escape would have succeeded, thankful it wasn’t necessary and still clueless about the main entrance.

  We entered the platform area, and I saw Flynn waiting with my bag and backpack. This meant I was leaving. He dropped the bags and gave me a bear hug.

  “Good to have met you, Dak,” he said with a wide grin.

  Turbero said, “Dak, there’s a helio-space vehicle waiting for us. Flynn wanted to say goodbye. You know your life will be changed forever.”

  Flynn passed me the backpack and bag from the ground. “Dak, you really kept your cool and composure under adverse circumstances.”

  Surprised by his comment, I hadn’t considered that I’d kept my cool. We said our goodbyes as Turbero guided me to another elevator. We ascended several floors to a waiting black-tinted bladeless oval helio-space vehicle hidden by a walled roof.

  The streamlined silent vehicle headed south toward the Phoenix Valley. I asked Turbero, “When did you know about the bidders?”

  Turbero said, “When we returned from Stone Pillar. You were in the sleep tank. We were advised what would transpire. Someday, I’ll share the whole story when it isn’t so extremely sensitive. The red votes came from powerful people who followed our work and approved the negotiations with the bidder.”

  I thanked him for advising me. I was still curious about the other hidden agendas kept from me.

  Turbero politely said, “Dak, I’m sorry the vote didn’t agree with you.”

  I didn’t respond. I focused on the scenic ride and became excited when the helicopter banked east toward Goldfield Ranch. I saw my intact cabin and wanted to shout with joy. The vehicle descended in a deep, dry wash a short hike from the secret tunnel. I glanced over at Turbero, and he grinned.

  I asked, “How did you know?”

  “Several days ago, security swept your cabin. They scanned the area with sonar equipment and identified the tunnel. Also, we secured your computers and replaced them with a highly classified coded access manager and a secure smartphone access manager. You will no longer access the commercial internet or smartphone satellites. It’s for your security and ours, since we need to secure your whereabouts. Dak, I need to advise you that Beyond Black Borders severed their contract with Cascade, which included your employment. Also, your identity has been removed from their company and Ronzo’s membership list.”

  I said, “When I left Cascade, I never expected to return. I have no regrets leaving that day that I broke protocol. I am concerned about Ronzo’s membership.”

  “Dak, there’s another opportunity for you. Sara has requested your services to work with her. Do you want to accept her offer?”

  Astounded, I couldn’t believe Sara would offer me such an opportunity. Without hesitation, I said, “I’d be honored to work with Sara.”

  Turbero smiled. “I thought you’d agree. This calls for a toast. Do you have any bourbon in the cabin?”

  “I have a Jameson Reserve,” I said.

  “That’s even better. Give me a moment with the pilot.”

  I climbed out of the helio holding my backpack and bag. I inhaled the desert air with the sweet smell of sage as I waited for Turbero to make a call.

  I led Turbero to the hidden hatch and cleared the broken branches and graveled mud from a recent storm. We traversed the hot, musty tunnel, bouncing our hydro lights off the walls.

  Turbero commented, “This tunnel is amazing. I thought I was paranoid.”

  “This tunnel relieved my father’s paranoia due to my work. It definitely was worth the expense,” I said, chuckling.

  I climbed the ladder to the basement closet as Turbero followed me.

  We inspected the downstairs area, and I took a leak. We went upstairs. I recalled the day Mary had left with the jeep. Now I had an offer from Sara, who claimed to be five hundred years old, lived with aliens and could transport me to the Carrington Event by the Urstar. It felt like a dream. Invisible forces guided my life far more than I realized.

  In the kitchen, I poured two whiskeys. Turbero raised his glass and said, “Dak, to your new identity and working with Sara.”

  We clicked glasses. “Thank you for the outcome of the negotiations.”

  We took another sip and sat in the comfort of the great room.

  I said, “I’m grateful to be safe, but regret others have died.”

  Turbero said, “DWJ is still mourning the loss of Fargo, Kim, and Shelly.”

  We remained silent as I mulled over the fact that Daren Alec Kyle would never be again. I felt rather saddened by that.

  Turbero broke the silence by saying, “Dak, we learned that Cascade had a private agenda. Their abuse of power led to this fiasco. And John’s betrayal in Sarasota compromised our security. We haven’t confirmed that John rigged the bomb, but we uncovered that he was on the dark web, bidding for your capture. He probably had a copy of the images. Unfortunately, he died two days ago in a shootout in Lafayette, Louisiana, before we could interrogate him. We are still in damage control as we followed his trail of deception.”

  I emptied my glass and brought the bottle to the table, refreshed our drinks, and asked, “What about Kisha and Adam?”

  “Good news. Adam managed to steal Palm Frog’s code on Kisha’s implant. It’s been safely removed. Kisha’s had threats on her life on the dark web. DWJ placed them in a protection program. They will live with new names in an undisclosed location.”

  Pleased with the great news they were safe, I toasted Adam and Kisha. I asked, “What about Harmony and Rustler?” I regretted my actions that had placed them at risk.

  “Peter relocated Harmony to another state. I suspect Peter will join her on his days off. I’m not sure about the outcome. Peter is a dedicated bachelor. Rustler worked for Peter as a private agent. He is lying low in another state too.”

  I grinned, recalling Rustler’s last message to me—that I was a piece of shit. “What about Mary and her family?”

  “Well, Mary negotiated for Wheeler’s release. Cascade claimed the images Mary had were still incomplete. DWJ will discredit Cascade’s images if they try to revive them.
Peter’s friend, Dr. Sonya, returned to Canada. Years ago, I met Mary as a fitness trainer at a health club. I arranged for her to take security training classes and apply at Cascade. Mary quit Cascade and will be joining DWJ in two weeks. Mary will be a valuable asset at DWJ.”

  “I owe Mary and John Wheeler for saving my life. Without Mary, I don’t know what the outcome would have been.”

  “I read Mary’s report on how you escaped that day from the cabin. She was doing her job, protecting you.”

  I smiled—that was what Mary would have said. “Did you ever identify the courier?”

  “No, but the police and FBI are still working on the case. We won’t be following their search. It’s in their interest to shut down the investigation. Sometimes we have to accept that we won’t know all the answers. There was a rumor that the courier had a brother in Oregon but we couldn’t confirm it.”

  I chuckled to myself, saying, “I thought about the SD card; it could have been years older than the bones, possibly from decades ago, from the ATTIP program that probably transferred from the Pentagon to Andromeda. And powers at DWJ are already communicating with cosmic aliens.”

  Turbero grinned and ignored my comment. He glanced at his wrist. I panicked, thinking he was ready to leave without answering my questions about Sara.

  I said, “I’m elated to work with Sara, but do you know why she requested my service?”

  “She reviewed your work and conferred with the group. We all agreed you would be an asset. Sara made the decision. She holds a unique classification with BBB. Only a few know her story, and only a few would believe it,” Turbero said.

  He hesitated for a moment before adding, “I can share this with you. I met Sara decades ago in Peru. Her true story would rewrite the planet’s history. You will see her in a few days. She will brief and train you on the DWJ codes to access the approved computer and smartphone manager equipment. Sara is extremely guarded about her work and past. Her instructions come from elsewhere,” Turbero commented as he took the last swig left in his glass.

  I wanted to ask Turbero more about Sara and all the details about her life. I glanced at Turbero, assuming he had read my thoughts. I turned from his stare to take my last swig and poured more in our glasses. I had an intuitive feeling something unsaid hovered over us.

  Turbero said, “I will share Sara’s story about the Urstar. Decades ago, a wealthy Brazilian landowner bought the Sedona property to build a castle on. He had heard about anomalies on the property and discovered a vast amount of energy emanating from under the hill where he built the castle or Stone Pillar. He claimed he built it over a vortex. He invited only trusted wealthy entrepreneurs to invest in an unknown energy source. Sara was a guest at Stone Pillar that weekend and discovered the vortex. She knew it was an energy force from Earth’s ancient past. She is the only person who can activate the Urstar and access the past, present, and future.

  “We immediately convinced her to join us. She interrupted her mission to transport you to the Carrington Event, hoping to confirm the possibility that another CME or pole shift could soon be forthcoming. Sara is acutely aware of Earth’s changes. She is aware of the US Department of Defense’s Advanced Space Surveillance Telescope for military applications in New Mexico. Sara has advised BBB to prepare for disclosure and discoveries that will transform the world when she finishes her latest project, which she won’t divulge until it’s solved.”

  My mind swirled as I thought about cosmic alien intelligence on the planet. At that moment, I realized I was being educated and primed to work with BBB under their control.

  With a voice of authority, Turbero said, “Dak, you need to know your messenger. This vast universe is far more complex than can be imagined. Also, you will be staying in the cabin until we process your new identity. There will be security around your cabin until Sara arrives.”

  Turbero stood to leave. I felt confused and saddened that I had lost control of my life.

  As if Turbero had read my mind, he said, “Also, BBB vetted Ronzo’s officers—Lee, Anthony, and Ashley. During the bid, we requested that Ronzo erase your presence from their files. They will be contacting you through DWJ computers after you have settled. This will protect their computers and avoid further hacks. Arrangements will be made for you to meet with them before you disappear.”

  Glad to see my friends, I mulled over the comment “before you disappear.” I guided Turbero through the tunnel, thinking about the compartmentalization at DWJ. I knew that BBB had my best interests, but I had many concerns about the unknown. I asked my final question before he exited the tunnel: “Will I see you again?”

  “Yes, later. We will meet after we are sure the images have been identified as a hoax. You have Allan and Rio to thank for protecting your skills and leaking false data to protect you. None of us slept during those forty-eight hours. I plan on sleeping long hours when I return to DWJ.”

  Turbero climbed into the helio and we waved goodbye.

  I returned to the cabin and poured myself another whiskey to ensure the note I’d swallowed was digested while I listened to flute music and mentally prepared for my unknown journey.

  38

  I WAS FEELING RESTLESS and isolated, unable to access the computer and smartphone over the past few days. I had a few days to contemplate my experience at DWJ, even missing DWJ’s company. But something wasn’t right. If Andromeda contained all the secrets, why wasn’t Cajun aware of cosmic aliens? Or was it compartmentalization? And if cosmic aliens were in contact with DWJ, wouldn’t they be aware of the solar system, Earth’s cycles, and possible calamities? My only reasoning was that cosmic intelligence could interfere with our evolution, or they might have other plans. Obviously DWJ wanted to know about my experience and the images were only secondary to what I possibly knew.

  Preparing for Sara’s arrival, I rummaged through my backpack for the third time and examined my tattered book The People of the Secret. I presumed Sara had valuable insights about Earth’s council and the directorate that governed the development of human evolution. I thumbed to a page written by Ernest Scott, a pseudonym, in chapter 2, “A Secret Directorate.”

  Over an immense period of time a process of life has been developed on earth and has culminated in man. The process has been achieved by making available on the planetary scene a succession of energies, each higher in frequency than the one before. Constructive, vital, automatic, sensitive energies have been “switched in” in turn and have given rise to the entire evolutionary progression from molecule to man.

  Noted in the book, I had highlighted that humankind’s attitude and choices offered the opportunity to choose its evolutionary direction.

  Earth’s Hidden Directorate provides social circumstances to raise man’s consciousness to the ultimate unitive energy of love. The People of the Secret’s initiates and masters gave rise to mankind’s consciousness on a progressive temporal scale. These initiates or masters are ordinary people with extraordinary influence that are among us. They are the masters that have been on earth and walk among us.

  The final line of the chapter stated the following: “But for the most part their presence, like their purpose, will be obscured from the view of men and women who walk among them.”

  I closed the book, thinking about masters who walked among us and Sara’s extraordinary consciousness or experience that enabled her to transport me to the Carrington Event. I had to overcome my doubts. I would be working with an initiate with a purposeful mission. I secured the valuable book in the backpack. This was about my insights into raising my consciousness. The images were definitely about a rescue mission.

  Raising human consciousness was the path for survival, though some proposed artificial intelligence was the only future. I knew technology and machines would not be the ultimate solution; only expanding consciousness and knowing the invisible forces would be. The evidence or lack thereof for UAVs or UA
Ps (unidentified aerial vehicles or phenomena) needed to be resolved. You either believed the government protected human interest, or considered cosmic intelligence could protect us from warmongering or possibly control our planet. There was an abundance of data available on the subject to expand one’s worldview. The more I pondered my decisions, the more I wondered if DWJ had purposely guided my life. I had to be more aware. I escaped from Cascade but then dug deeper and joined BBB. Optimistically, working with Sara would offer me the gifted opportunity to evolve my life.

  As I cleared my breakfast plate, I flinched at the sound of the doorbell. I hustled to the door, expecting Sara. A tall, elderly woman dressed in a green jacket stood in front of the door’s viewer. Without my extended surveillance system, I couldn’t see if anyone else was with this woman.

  Looking at the screen, I heard, “Dak, it is Sara.”

  Unable to recognize Sara, I asked, “Who are you?”

  “Dak, it’s Sara. I arrived by helicopter near your tunnel.”

  I opened the door, surprised by her appearance. She had silver-blonde hair and a ruddy complexion. She stepped inside and pulled off her silver-colored wig and then peeled off a rubber facial mask, leaving me dumbfounded.

  “Wow, I didn’t expect you incognito.”

  “I have to wear disguises frequently.”

  “Would you like some coffee?” I asked, recalling my disguise experiences.

  “Sure. Make it black.” Without the mask, she looked stunning even with her brown hair wadded into a bun under the wig. She pulled off her backpack as I poured her coffee. My hand shook. I was awed by her presence.

  She took a sip and asked, “Are you certain about your decision to work with me?”