Mirror, Mirror at 1600 D.C.

by Edward Galluzzi

  Harrison stopped and spoke once again, “Who are you and why were you trying to kill me?” The woman gazed at him with eyes of steel and said nothing. Harrison was growing impatient and pulled back the trigger. He said more forcefully, “Tell me why you were following me!” His attacker finally spoke. “I was not following you. You came at me like a robber or rapist and I reacted in my defense. I didn’t know who you were and I still don’t know who you are.” He countered, “You don’t think I’d believe that anybody, let alone a woman, would be walking by herself in this sparsely populated area in these early morning hours?” The woman responded sarcastically, “You don’t believe a woman can find her way around in the dark?” and added, “Do you mind if I put my arms down, they’re getting tired.” Harrison said quickly, “No, keep them up where I can see them.”

  The stranger did as ordered and kept her hands up in the air. Harrison was growing impatient and asked again, “Why were you following me? Murdering two agents is not enough for you?” The woman did not change her expression or blink an eye at Harrison’s accusation. If she indeed was a murderer, she was unwilling to betray her hand merely through questioning. Harrison decided that he would get no where with her here and needed to take her to Mentor for interrogation. Harrison ordered, “I haven’t the time for this. Turn around and start walking.” At first, the woman did not move. As if expecting somebody, her eyes shifted left and then right; or perhaps she was looking for alternatives to her predicament. Harrison wanted to waste no more time and angrily yelled, “Move!” At this, the stranger did as commanded and turned around. She started walking back toward Station Zero. Harrison walked behind her with his gun pointed and set for trouble. He maintained a discreet difference as he recalled embarrassingly that he lost his gun to her outstretched leg. He would not let this happen a second time—at least not a second time in the same day!

  Harrison and the stranger walked slowly back to Station Zero. He kept his discrete distance and watched carefully for any treacherous moves. Harrison hoped that he could get back to Station Zero without further incident. There was too much at stake now. If the lady had information to give, Harrison would be eager to listen. Any plan to manipulate the Presidency was necessarily complex and any clues would be extremely helpful. Upon reflection, Harrison believed that coming across this woman was indeed a stroke of luck. Could she provide sufficient information to focus more readily his investigation and eliminate following questionable evidence?

  Harrison and the stranger continued their walk to Station Zero. Without explanation or reason, the female agent collapsed and fell to the ground. Harrison took no chances and aimed his gun directly to her head. He spoke with ire in his voice, “Get up or I’ll blow your damn head off!” The downed woman neither moved nor said anything. Harrison repeated his warning, but the forewarning was not heeded. The woman remained still with no movement observed. Harrison kept his gun aimed at the stranger’s head as he carefully rolled over her body. Her arms and legs were limp as he turned her body toward him. Harrison carefully checked her pulse from the carotid artery near the base of her neck. He felt no pulse. ‘How could this be?’ thought Harrison. It was clear that she took something, perhaps some kind of poison. How or when the poison was administered Harrison did not know.

  Harrison sat staring at the dead woman for a moment. He put down his gun and grabbed the woman’s arms. Harrison dragged the woman into some thick brush and covered her with what he could find on the ground. He walked out of the brush and turned around toward the position of her body. Satisfied that he could not see anything, Harrison continued his trek to his car. He was angry with himself for not searching her thoroughly although justified his omission in that she would have attacked him under a search. Harrison simply shook his head at a lost opportunity and a lost life. Yet, this was now a problem for Mentor.

  Twenty minutes passed before Harrison reached his car. He stopped short of the vehicle and surveyed the area for anything out of place. After several minutes of caution, Harrison was satisfied that the area was clear and walked toward his car. He used his electronic safety remote to unlock it and sat in the front seat. Harrison immediately locked the doors and picked up the phone. He dialed and after several minutes heard a familiar voice. Harrison was identified by the carrier signal and Mentor said, “Hardware, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Is anything the matter?” “Plenty” was Harrison’s short reply. “Are you all right, Harrison?” “Yes, Greg” was his response. Harrison added, “However, you’ll find a female body, approximately 35 years of age, in the woods directly south of Station Zero.” Harrison continued, “Please arrange to have her picked up. It would not be good for a local resident to accidentally come across the body in the morning.”

  Mentor agreed and acknowledged that he would take care of the matter. He then asked his agent, “Any idea who she was?” “Not really,” replied Harrison. “You know,” said Mentor, “she could have followed me to Station Zero. Did you kill her, Harrison?” “No, I did not. She nearly killed me. I was walking her back to Station Zero to contact you to have her interrogated when she collapsed in front of me.” “Poisoned?” asked Mentor. “Most likely,” replied Harrison. He continued, “If she took it in my presence, though, she camouflaged her move perfectly. I saw nothing that telegraphed such a move. As callous as these people seem to be, I would not be surprised if she took or was administered the poison without her knowledge hours before her assignment.” “Suicide?” asked Mentor in disbelief. “Well, suicide or she was murdered at the hands of her own comrades to guarantee her silence,” suggested Harrison. There was a pause as the two men speculated independently about the dead woman. Mentor said to his agent in a cautious voice, “Be careful, Harrison. If she was indeed a part of the conspiracy, your position might be compromised.” Harrison interrupted, “It would be appreciated if you could send me as much information as you can on her.” “I will,” replied Mentor. He continued, “However, we can’t go through the normal lab procedures on this one. It may take a little more time, as I cannot afford to expose our mission to the White House. We may not know anything about her until after the mission is over.” “I understand,” was Harrison’s reply. “I am headed to the hangar and Target One. I will contact you after reaching the mission target.” “Good luck, Harrison—and be extremely careful” spoke Mentor with genuineness in his voice. “Thanks Greg and out.” With the communication terminated, Harrison sped away and drove to reunite himself with Target One.

  Chapter 14

  The Calm Before the Storm

  Harrison drove at a high rate of speed to the hangar protecting Target One. He wondered how the female stranger picked up his trail especially since he was quite careful in his approach. Or was she indeed shadowing Mentor as he indicated? Harrison stared straight ahead as he sped to the undisclosed airport. He knew that time was critical and the element of surprise might have eluded him. Harrison was disgusted at his susceptibility to a direct encounter with the domestic terrorist. He prided himself in his skills and cunning, only to be reminded of his mortality every now and then. Yet, it was his sharpness that kept him alive when the seduction of death beckoned so often at his door.

  Harrison continued down the public road for another mile before turning left onto a dirt road. Dust swirled behind him as he continued dangerously at a high rate of speed. Harrison justified the risk as he traveled the road often and knew it well. He drove for several miles before coming to a clearing. One could not see the camouflaged hangars, but they were there. Harrison drove to the location disclosed to him by Mentor where he expected to find Target One. He slowed as the hangar became visible to the naked eye and stopped at a side entrance. A guard who flashed a light at him met Harrison. He asked for Harrison’s identification which was produced and carefully scanned. The guard nodded and Harrison entered the hangar. He shielded his eyes as the brightness inside the hangar was in stark contrast to the outside darkness. Target One was in view with several guards pr
otecting it. Harrison again presented his credentials to show one of the guards. The guard verified the credentials and welcomed Harrison.

  Harrison immediately boarded Target One, as time was critical. He reviewed his flight map for his destination— Montana. The course appeared straightforward. Harrison folded the chart and headed for the cockpit. He placed the charted map in clear view to refer to during the flight. Harrison sat down as he began reviewing his checklist for takeoff. He scanned carefully each item before putting the clipboard in a secure place. Harrison buckled himself into the pilot’s seat and looked out the front window of the cockpit awaiting the signal to start engines. He did not have to wait long as the ground crewman twirled his hand. Harrison flipped a switch that started his right engine. He then flipped another switch adjacent to the first one and his refitted left engine energized. Harrison revved the engines and released the gear. Target One inched forward and slowly disembarked from its protective hangar. Harrison guided the sleek jet toward the runway. He contacted the tower requesting clearance for takeoff. The control tower verified Target One and gave Harrison authorization for departure. Harrison glanced at the critical gauges one more time and increased engine power. Target One sped down the runway. At the moment of critical speed, Harrison pulled the steering and Target One began its rapid ascent. It was not long before man and plane were at the scheduled cruising altitude of 10,000 feet. Harrison checked the altimeter and speedometer. Satisfied with Target One’s heading and performance, he switched on the autopilot. Harrison left the cockpit area and walked into his office. Target One was on a steady course for the closest government airport to Sarhea, Montana. In this case, the airport was Malmstrom Air Force Base in Great Falls, Montana. It was agreed beforehand with Mentor that radio silence would be adhered to strictly and broken by either man only if the information to be shared warranted a severe breach.

  As Harrison reflected upon this morning’s events, he hoped that the silence would be interrupted by Mentor with information about his female assailant. He knew that his assignment might be jeopardized, or as Mentor implicated, his assailant was shadowing Mentor himself. Was it clever guesswork or did the currently “seated” President Ashton realize that Mentor and his agents were a formidable force, a force that had to be liquidated if her plan of legitimizing dissident terrorists was to materialize? What even was more alarming was that the control of information and disinformation by the Presidency might go undetected by other government officials and the people of the United States. By the time that the American people realized the true threat of the domestic terrorists, it would be too late much like other tragic events in American history: Japan’s attack of Pearl Harbor; Germany’s “final solution”; the era of McCarthyism; the Challenger shuttle; the disinformation over tobacco…The blinded naiveté of the American people to believe in a person, agency or product occurs at times even when evidence to the contrary exists.

  Harrison reflected that supremacy and extremist movements in history were never in the final analysis positive influences on the American society. Had not Modem questioned emphatically the authenticity of his wife, Harrison would consider it treasonous to defy the President’s authority and work actively with Mentor at exposing her in this conspiracy. And what role did this President Ashton play? A pawn controlled by others or perhaps more lethal and in command?

  Harrison did not have the opportunity to ponder further the sinister nature of the seated President Ashton, or her alter ego, or her surgical twin, or her clone, or her…For at the moment, he was tossed around the fuselage of Target One like atomic atoms in a particle chamber. Harrison’s first thought was that of severe air turbulence. He struggled to maintain his stability as he walked toward the cockpit. Harrison entered the cockpit and was thrown roughly into the pilot’s seat. He was able to right himself and buckle his seat belt.

  Harrison scanned the instrument panel and then gazed out the window. Daylight was dawning, but he saw nothing tangible in front of him. ‘Clear air turbulence’ he thought to himself. Harrison released the autopilot and then struggled to maintain control of Target One as it bounced through the airwaves. He did not want to travel to Montana on the back of a wild stallion as it were. Harrison altered the jet’s altitude and course. The turbulence soon faded. Harrison was able eventually to return to Target One’s original course and speed. He was now only several hours away from Malmstrom A.F.B. in Great Falls, Montana.

  Harrison left the cockpit and returned to his office. He began to review the information given to him by Mentor that detailed the operations of the conservative extremists in America. As he read through the material, his fax machine interrupted his thoughts. The cover page indicated that it was from Mentor and Harrison speculated that it was information about his female assailant. He hoped that any facts uncovered would help him in his infiltration in Montana. Harrison needed to reclaim the advantage after his earlier encounter this morning.

  Two pages exited the fax machine. Harrison read the transcription aloud as if others were on the plane with him: “Hardware—please do not acknowledge the reception of this message. Known details on the assailant are as follows…

  Name: Clona Lane Hawthorne

  Alias: Lane Montana; Clona Jane; Hawthorne Lane

  Last Known Address: 1406 Con Way, Sarhea, Montana

  Age: 37

  Ethnic Background: Caucasian

  Marital Status: Single

  Arrest History: None; but she was investigated in 1997 for suspicion of murder and intent to cause bodily harm via an explosive device; suspicion of conspiracy in abortion bombings; all evidence circumstantial and cases never brought to court.”

  This information provided by Mentor confirmed that he was correct in his suspicions and that his final destination of Sarhea, Montana would be a good starting point in his investigation. Harrison checked his watch and allowing for Target One’s course and speed, his ETA in Montana was ten o’clock. He desired to sleep, but the thought left him as quickly as it entered his mind. He must remain alert and prepared for anything, including another assault. After all, this Clona Hawthorne was not alone in her actions against the American government. Sleep would come shortly. Harrison was scheduled to land at Malmstrom A.F.B. near Great Falls, which was in west central Montana. Great Falls was about three hours away from Sarhea by car. Harrison planned to sleep for the part of the day in Great Falls and travel under the protection of darkness to his final destination, Sarhea.

  It was 9:45 a.m. and Target One was approaching Great Falls, Montana. After the sudden air turbulence, nothing out of the ordinary occurred for the remainder of the trip. Harrison had returned to the cockpit and released the autopilot. The jet’s controls were rendered back to him. Harrison made the necessary course correction for his final flight path to the airport just outside of Great Falls.

  Harrison contacted the control tower: “Target One to Malmstrom A.F.B. Target One to Malmstrom tower.” He paused and listened to static for several moments. Then came the expected reply: “Target One, this is Malmstrom A.F.B. in Great Falls, Montana. Go ahead.” “This is Target One. Requesting landing clearance and course correction.” “Come to course 260 and you are clear to land on runway 290. Winds are out of the west at 10 miles per hour and gusting to 15. You are about 30 miles out. No other traffic. Control out.” “Roger, control” was Harrison’s sign off.

  Harrison corrected his course as requested, but was too far for visual contact. He continued to cruise on the heading 260. Harrison reviewed his plans once he landed at the airport. He would lay low in a motel under the alias of Donald Marshall! until evening. At that time, he planned to rent an all-terrain vehicle for the three-hour drive to Sarhea. Harrison estimated that he would arrive in Sarhea around 9:00 p.m. At that point, the comforts of home would no longer apply. Harrison would switch to outback survival mode. As a stranger in such a small town as Sarhea, he would not go unnoticed. He would have time to organize his survival gear in his motel room as well as get some l
ong needed rest and sleep.

  Harrison glanced forward. The air force base was now coming into view. With the quiet whine of the jet engines and the scenic panoramic view, Harrison thought of Hannah. He decided to compose a fax to his intended, as there was little chance of surveillance detecting the transmission from Target One. In any case, the fax would be scrambled and sent to headquarters for routing.

  Harrison enabled the autopilot once again, but remained in the cockpit due to his closeness to the airport. He grabbed some nearby writing material and began his letter to Hannah:

  “My Dear Hannah,

  It seems like we’ve been apart for weeks or months; yet, it has only been a few days. I miss you! I miss every part of you. I’m safe and hope you are the same. Looking forward to seeing you once again and doing something terribly romantic. I hope Josetta is doing well. Please give him my regards if you see him. Take care, my love.

  Your H.”

  Harrison purposely did not comment on the status of his mission not only for security reasons, but he wanted to minimize Hannah’s worrying—something at which she was skillful. After all, she knew that Harrison thought of her often even though they could not communicate directly with each other.

  With the autopilot engaged, Harrison left the cockpit and faxed his affections to Hannah. He returned quickly as runway 290 came into view. Harrison disengaged the autopilot and took control of Target One. He radioed the control tower once again, “Malmstrom A.F.B., this is Target One.” The tower replied, “Welcome to Great Falls, Target One. You are clear to land on runway two-niner. Come to course 2-5-0 and hold. Begin descent at your discretion. Winds are out of the southwest at 12 miles per hour and gusting to 17. You are 10 miles out. No other traffic. Upon touchdown, taxi to hangar 47. Control out.” “Roger, control” was Harrison’s customary sign off.