Legacy of the Watchers Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Nancy Madore

  “His connection to that research site where he first came in contact with Asmodeous goes way back,” said Clive. “Back then he was just looking for technical information relating to his job…pretty standard stuff.”

  “Thing is,” added Gordon, “Asmodeous was the one who initiated the contact. He sent Blevins—and a few other people at T.D.M.R.—emails about the site, offering himself as a contact.”

  “Is that so unusual?” asked Nadia.

  “Well…yeah, sort of,” replied Clive. “I mean, the research site is manned by volunteers from around the world. Inquiries are answered randomly. To submit himself as a direct contact like that…it’s like Asmodeous was fishing.”

  “Then, a few months before the lab accident, there’s a change in Blevins,” said Gordon.

  “Before this, he’s something of a wise ass,” said Clive. “Always cracking jokes…kind of full of himself…you know, ‘look at me, I’ve got a cool job.’” Nadia couldn’t help smiling. Clive might have been describing Gordon—or himself.

  “But just before he died, he was suddenly all business,” continued Gordon. “Could be he was afraid. Could be he discovered something he wasn’t supposed to. Could be a lot of things.”

  “Then the lab accident,” said Clive. “And he wasn’t even a lab technician. He was a computer tech. He shouldn’t have been anywhere near a lab.”

  “And then, this month—almost a year later—he turns up again to send your father these encrypted messages,” said Gordon.

  Nadia turned to Will. “Maybe Ethan discovered something about T.D.M.R. that got him killed! And then someone else—maybe someone who worked with him—used his email to get the information to my father!”

  They were suddenly all looking at her a little too intently. “Nadia…,” began Will.

  “Ornias said my father was worried about Armageddon,” she continued. She gave them a pleading look.

  Will took her hand. “A few days ago, your father admitted to you that he was behind a plot to spread a highly contagious disease that could kill millions of people,” he reminded her.

  “I know!” she cried. “But he also told me that things had reached the point of no return. But…I know.” She was aware that she had gone off the deep end with her little outburst and, if anything, made things worse.

  “Nadia, if this is going to be too much for you…” Will began.

  “It’s…hard for me to accept,” she admitted. “You forget that I’ve known this man my entire life. I know what he stood for. The djinn might be able to hide their true identity in a body but they can’t hide who they are! I just want…” she paused, trying to think what it was, exactly, that she wanted.

  “You want the truth,” Gordon finished for her. His tone was kind, and she cursed the tears that filled her eyes. “You want to understand why your father did what he did.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “We want that too,” said Will. “That’s why we’re all still here. We want to give you that.”

  “But don’t you think there’s more here, than just…closure for me?” she asked.

  Will sighed. “To be honest, Nadia, I think we have all lost our objectivity—including me.”

  It was a warning. Nadia nodded, pulling herself together. She took a deep, ragged breath. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Whatever comes I’ll deal with it.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Will.

  “Absolutely!” she replied, forcing a smile. “So what did you find out about T.D.M.R.?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Nothing yet,” said Will. “Their security level makes it impossible to get information on them.”

  “How can anything be that top secret?” Nadia wondered. “Who do they answer to?”

  Clive snorted. “Themselves!” he said.

  “How do they get by with that?” she wondered.

  “Nine-eleven, baby,” said Clive. “Every Tom, Dick and Scary came crawling out of the woodwork to get security clearance.”

  “One of the knee jerk reactions to nine-eleven was to award the military a higher level of secrecy,” said Gordon. “There are more than ten thousand top secret government operations in the United States today. Close to a million people have top secret security clearances.”

  “The level of secrecy is so extreme that no one knows exactly how many people are involved, what they’re doing or how much it’s costing,” added Clive.

  Nadia couldn’t believe it. “That’s impossible!”

  “But it’s true,” said Clive.

  “People take advantage of disaster,” continued Gordon. “We gave you a hard time about the abuses in your field of work, but to be fair, there are just as many in ours. Nine-eleven opened the door for all kinds of special interests to get the government’s ear…and their support. All they had to do was convince the right people, and they’re in.”

  “And once a group achieves top secret clearance, they’re home free,” said Clive. “Nobody thinks to question what they’re doing. Hell! Nobody has the clearance level to question what they’re doing!”

  “This is insane!” exclaimed Nadia.

  “Is it?” asked Clive. “Is it any more insane than anything else you witnessed this week?”

  “And yet, it’s not all bad,” interjected Will. “Take us, for example. If people knew what we do, what do you think they would say? And yet we just prevented what may have been the biggest attack on United States soil, ever.”

  “So,” he continued when nobody responded to this, “there are probably top secret organizations exploiting the system, but there’s a lot of good being done too. We have no reason to suspect T.D.M.R. of any wrongdoing.”

  “You couldn’t get any information about them at all?” asked Nadia, incredulous.

  “Only that they’re a byproduct of HAARP,” said Gordon.

  “Harp,” echoed Nadia. “Why does that sound familiar?”

  “It used to be a favorite topic for conspiracy theorists,” said Will, adding pointedly to Gordon—“As pioneers in new technologies often are.”

  “You might have heard of them through a book that came out in the nineties, called Angels Don’t Play This HAARP,” added Clive.

  “What is it?” asked Nadia.

  “HAARP stands for High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program,” said Will. “They’re run by the Department of Defense.”

  “Basically, they research methods for enhancing communications—and possibly even controlling them in wartime,” said Clive.

  “But it’s not just communications,” objected Gordon. “They conduct a wide range of experiments with potentially dangerous consequences.”

  “Here we go” said Clive.

  Gordon blushed, but he didn’t back down. “Did you by chance read that book, Angels Don’t Play This HAARP?” he asked Nadia.

  “No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t,” she replied.

  “Don’t worry” said Clive. “Gordon will tell you all about it.”

  Gordon shot him a look. “The book made the claim that HAARP is experimenting with our atmosphere for more than just communications. The theories range from weather manipulation to mind control.”

  “Just what kind of experiments are they doing?” Nadia asked.

  “HAARP has towers with antennas that are able to transmit enormous amounts of energy into the atmosphere,” said Gordon. “But the part of the atmosphere they’re experimenting with—the ionosphere—affects a lot of other things besides just communications.”

  “Wait,” interjected Nadia. “I’m confused. What is it, exactly, that they are doing?”

  “Well, you’re familiar with the ionosphere?” asked Gordon.

  “Yes,” she said uncertainly. “I mean…I know it’s part of our atmosphere.”

  “It’s the part that’s ionized by solar radiation,” said Clive. “Hence the name.”

  Nadia gave him a withering look.

  “The ionosphere is a thick layer of highly energized partic
les, which forms a kind of shield around the earth,” explained Gordon. “It protects the earth from the sun’s radiation and other destructive elements in space.”

  “Among other things, this electromagnetic field affects radio transmission,” said Will.

  “Which is where HAARP comes in,” interjected Clive. “They experiment with electromagnetic frequencies in their communications research.”

  “Wait!” exclaimed Nadia. “Frequencies…as in the kind you would measure in kilohertz.”

  “Not bad,” said Clive. “We might find a job for you yet.”

  “I already have a job, thank you.”

  “Then why are you still hanging around?” he asked in mock exasperation.

  “How do they get this electromagnetic energy into the ionosphere?” asked Nadia, ignoring Clive.

  “Through the towers with the antenna, which they control from their operations center,” replied Gordon.

  “And what do the conspiracy theorists think they’re doing?” Nadia asked.

  “Their biggest concern is that the HAARP technology might be damaging our atmosphere,” said Gordon. “I mean, they’re heating, stretching and sometimes even tearing the ionosphere with these experiments. We have no idea what the long term effects of this will be.”

  This sounded like a reasonable concern to Nadia.

  “There are also claims that HAARP has experimented with weather control,” Gordon continued. “Though the D.O.D. won’t openly admit it, they’ve filed patents claiming they have the technology to alter weather. The patents say they intend to use it to prevent weather extremes, such as draught or flooding. But the conspiracy theorists insist that if they can change the weather for good, they could also change it for bad, like to gain an advantage in war.”

  “So can they alter the weather or not?” Nadia asked.

  “I know it sounds like science fiction,” admitted Gordon, “but it’s not as far-fetched as you might think. Patents abound for using this technology to create tornados and hurricanes. This research has existed since the fifties. And there must be something to it, because the Geneva Convention felt the need to draw up an international ban on environmental warfare, which specifically lists weather control.”

  “Don’t forget the earthquakes,” prompted Clive. He looked at Will, who just smiled.

  “You guys can laugh all you want,” said Gordon. He turned to Will. “Didn’t you read that email I sent you?” He sighed, turning back to Nadia. “Scientists recently detected unusual activity in the ionosphere just before a major earthquake. They’re not sure if the activity causes the earthquake or is just a symptom of it, but it begs the question of why we’re not at least using this activity as an early warning system.”

  “Makes you wonder,” said Clive agreeably. “Now tell her about the mind control.”

  “Would you shut the hell up, Clive?” said Gordon, blushing again. “I know how crazy it sounds but that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

  “I don’t understand,” interjected Nadia. She was growing alarmed by what Gordon was saying. “If they had all this technology back in the fifties—I mean, they must have made some advancements since then—why isn’t anyone talking about it? Frankly, I’m surprised there aren’t more conspiracies about this out there!”

  “After the publication of Angels Don’t Play This HAARP, there was a lot of bad publicity,” said Gordon. “Shortly after, the D.O.D. completely revamped HAARP. Now they’re mostly just a research sight for the local college. However, around the same time, a bunch of top secret military projects started popping up under all kinds of new names. T.D.M.R. is one of them. Many of them have access to HAARP’s equipment, including the towers that send the energy into the ionosphere, but now all their activities are top secret. Any patents they file are top secret as well. And that’s why you haven’t heard any more about them.”

  Nadia was thoughtful. “Whether or not these conspiracy theorists are right, I do think this is something that would have interested my father,” she said.

  “Right?” agreed Gordon.

  “Definitely,” she replied. She looked at Will, who just smiled. “So this is what you guys were arguing about when I came down,” she concluded.

  “Alright, look,” said Will, addressing Gordon. “If you want to do a little research…throw out some feelers, knock yourself out. I’ve reached a dead end with T.D.M.R. but…I have to admit I’m a little curious too. I wouldn’t mind knowing what that formula is that Blevins sent Asmodeous.”

  Gordon perked up. “Since we can’t contact T.D.M.R. directly, I wonder if someone over at HAARP might be able to tell us what the formula is. Hey!” he turned to Clive. “Don’t you have a friend over there?”

  “I might know a guy,” said Clive noncommittally.

  “I might know someone too!” Nadia chimed in. They all looked at her. “I know people everywhere,” she told them. “In fact, that might be how I heard of them. I probably raised money for them.”

  “Figures,” said Clive and, turning to Gordon he added—“Your conspiracies are starting to make sense.”

  Nadia gave him a challenging look. “Afraid I might be able to decode the formula before you, Mr. Top-Secret-Special-Agent-Man?”

  Clive smiled. “Care to put your money where your mouth is, Nancy Drew?”

  “I’ll go you one better,” she said. “Whoever loses owes the other a home cooked meal—and it has to be something hot and delicious. No Fruity Pebbles!”

  “Hmmm,” murmured Clive. “I was thinking of something more interesting…like, say, your firstborn child, but now that you mention it, I could go for a home cooked meal!”

  “Ha ha!” laughed Nadia. “You’ll be the one cooking it!”

  “Are you two finished?” asked Will. “We’ve wasted enough time here. Let’s head back over, do what we have to do on the computer and then bring Ornias out for another round.”

  Chapter 16

  Delta Junction, Alaska

  The buzzing suddenly seemed extra loud, and the world felt like it was whirling around Amanda as her body abruptly turned. She saw that she was bent over her alarm clock, and realized that that’s where the additional buzzing was coming from. Her eyes were moving over the buttons. After a moment, her finger touched one of them and the buzzing stopped. Now there was just the static.

  “How’d you sleep?” she heard a voice ask from beyond the static. It took Amanda a moment to realize that it was Catherine. And then her head was turning and she was looking at Catherine. Amanda studied her friend as if seeing her for the first time. She saw a plump brunette with a pretty face that revealed a sweet disposition. She recalled having that same impression when she first met Catherine, and thinking that Catherine would make the perfect friend—loyal, agreeable, and just the right size to make Amanda look thinner by comparison. Amanda was mildly disturbed by this recollection.

  Catherine smiled sleepily. “No ghosts or goblins?” she asked.

  “None whatsoever,” Amanda heard herself say. Her voice seemed stronger, more confident. Who was speaking? Who was controlling her?

  Catherine yawned noisily. “Me either,” she replied cheerfully, and Amanda felt that—although she’d chosen her best friend for the wrong reasons—she’d chosen well. Catherine really was a true friend. She’d given up a night with her boyfriend just to be there for Amanda. Though, in truth, she hadn’t been much of a help. She’d slept through the entire episode.

  “Oh my god!” cried Catherine. “Look at the time! I still have to go home to shower and dress!”

  It was then that Amanda realized that she hadn’t even bothered to reset the alarm clock so that Catherine wouldn’t be late for work. She told herself that she was too tipsy to think of it last night, but she knew she wouldn’t have done it anyway. She never thought of anyone but herself.

  These little self-revelations were fleeting, and not nearly as upsetting as Amanda would have thought. They brought mild discomfort and then passed. She wished she�
��d behaved differently, and even felt regret, but there was none of the self-loathing that one would expect from such acknowledgements. Somehow, her behavior seemed forgivable—and even forgiven. And yet she had no idea why she felt this way. Perhaps it was just an impression—for surely not all behavior was forgivable.

  Catherine left and Amanda saw that she was moving again, making her way toward the bathroom. Her nightgown was removed and her body was being positioned in front of the mirror. Amanda watched herself being twisted this way and that, and felt that same mild discomfort when she saw the look of disgust that came over her own face. One of her hands reached up to pinch the fleshy center of her stomach. It was unpleasant to be examined thus—especially with such obvious disapproval. Her hands now moved up to her breasts, lifting the pendulous mounds as if weighing them. Whatever was controlling her features appeared to be wondering—What am I supposed to do with these? Amanda had always been proud of her implants but suddenly they seemed overdone, burdensome—ridiculous even. Next, her body was turned at the waist and her eyes were examining her backside in all of its glory. Amanda wished she could close her eyes and was actually in sync with the thing inside her in that instant when she heard herself groan.

  Well—her expression seemed to say—we’re just going to have to make do.

  It was peculiar to see oneself so objectively. Amanda had always considered her ‘looks’ to be her greatest asset. Now they suddenly seemed terribly lacking. A strange yearning rose up in her. Surely there was more to her than what she had thus far shown the world! What she wouldn’t give for another chance!

  Thankfully, her body was moving away from the mirror and heading for the shower. Her eyes were moving over everything, taking in every detail, as if seeing it for the first time. Every action was performed slowly, tentatively. She heard a low, almost catlike moan of pleasure escape her lips when her body moved under the warm stream of the shower. Amanda wondered once again what it was that had taken possession of her. It was almost as if it had never experienced the pleasure of a hot shower before. They remained there, in the shower, for a very long time, standing motionless under the steamy jet long after Amanda’s body had been cleansed.