As a new lawyer Greg originally had one of the Organization’s businesses as his client. They’d enticed him to do special work for them with offers of money and power, and now he had both. He'd become a Supervisor for The Organization with four operatives under him. Seven years later he was a Sector Chief, running one of their North American operations, and a partner in his legal firm.
Stressed by not knowing what was going to happen, his mind jumped from distraction to distraction; now he was thinking about their job titles, so mundane, but they did work to hide their real roles.
Dennison mentally reviewed his report again. His sector was detailed to follow Nicholas Paul Molinaro, a US citizen. He’d been told that Molinaro had been identified as a board member of the Society of the Book. Unfortunately, Sanderson, his New York District Chief, had been spotted by Molinaro and Molinaro had a chance for a good look at him. With the Director, there was usually only one penalty for failure, termination.
It had been bad luck; Molinaro was a trained intelligence operative, so there'd always been a chance that he’d recognize a tail. However, the Director didn’t care about that. The real question for him was would it be Sanderson who died, or both of them?
Karl Johann Gesasin, World Security Director for The Organization knew that the man behind him was afraid, and that pleased him. This time, only Sanderson would need to die. Dennison, sitting at the meeting room table behind him, was more capable than his predecessor, and better trained as a lawyer. He was also a direct descendant of the founding members of the Organization, something that Dennison didn’t know, yet. Dennison was probably worth saving, but he needed toughening up. The Director, continuing to look out of the window at the lights of Wall Street, said, “Dennison, we have to set an example. I want you to take care of it yourself, personally. Understood?”
“Yes Director. I’ll take care of it personally. A.S.A.P.!” Dennison answered, unable to keep the relief out of his voice.
The Director smiled to himself. Dennison understood the implied threat. Time to wrap this up. “Make sure his operatives understand the consequences of Sanderson’s failure, but his family is to think it was a fatal accident or heart attack. You choose. Provide the family with an appropriate pension.” The Organization took care of their families. This ensured loyalty. They didn’t recruit anyone without a family. If anyone talked, their wife, and children, would pay the price.
Gesasin continued once Dennison had absorbed that message, “Continue to follow Molinaro. It’s not likely to result in anything. Try using electronic methods. Finding out who Molinaro meets with might be our best lead now. If Molinaro has a friend, or better yet a girlfriend, we might be able to get the location by threatening them. We know Molinaro goes south every few months. We need to know his destination. See if you can force that out of our traitor on the Board. Once we know that, The Organization will decide how to proceed. Don’t make a move unless authorized.”
“No, Sir, we won’t act without prior authorization,” said Dennison, breathing normally now.
“Good. Send reports in the usual way. I’ll see myself out. Take some time off with your wife and children. Please feel free to call me Director Gesasin in future.” It didn’t hurt to leave on the right note, thought Gesasin. He walked through the law firm’s offices with the happy expression and posture of an executive who had completed some satisfying task. Only those that looked into his cold, brown eyes saw anything different.
* * *
The secretary told him that he could go in. Senator Abrams was behind his desk looking through a binder, and waved him over to the chair next to the desk.
The Senator asked, “Hi, Dan. So, we’re ready?”
Colonel Daniel Richards responded, “Yes, Senator. Both of the portable detectors have been tested and are now installed in Mexico. Army Intelligence and the Mexican authorities have been informed, and we will have a team in the area at all times to respond to the location of any pulse.”
That seemed to please the Senator. He asked, “How quickly can we respond?”
Dan had good news on this, “Our team will have the location within sixty seconds.”
The Senator whistled in surprise, “How did you do that?”
“It was Sergeant Doones; he’s done some excellent programming for us. This time he had the idea to change the data processing from the satellite and the two portable detectors, priorizing the location of the pulse from the satellite before other data processing, and then sending the triangulated location directly to a GPS unit monitored by our team in Mexico.”
“Impressive,” said Senator.
“Yes, and I think that this approach can be used with other satellites to reduce our detection time on things like rocket launches.”
“Even better. The Sargent will be recognized for this work?”
Dan was happy to be ahead of the Senator on this one, “Yes, a commendation is already in the works.”
The Senator stood up and shook his hand. “Thanks Dan. This will go a long way to eliminating any criticism of your operations by Hardisty’s friends, or my enemies. Send me a full report, and I’ll attach it to the next Committee agenda as information, so everyone is up to speed.”
* * *
They were in the same boardroom where Dennison had survived his meeting with Director Gesasin. The old man in a tweed jacket and slacks was their informant and had been for years. The receptionist knew him by the alias of Mr. Colombo, and from her blank look, Dennison knew she had never seen the TV series. Now in his new position as a Director on the Board of the Society of the Book, this informant had access to even more valuable information.
Mr. Colombo came without any papers; like other members of the Society of the Book he was trained to rely on his memory. The old man had dictated everything that happened at the last Board meeting of the Society of the Book. He was now watching with poorly veiled contempt, as Dennison made detailed notes of what he’d said. Dennison finished checking his notes, and looked up. “That’s it?” This was good stuff. They now knew the location of the pillar, and that three more people who knew how to use it. The military presence in the area was a concern and that meant that they would have to be cautious.
“Yes that’s all. We’re not happy that the Wayfarers picked these students; it’s a mistake. That’s what our Society is for, they should have contacted us.” Dennison was amused at how put out Mr. Colombo was, that the priest had chosen some students, instead of him and his doddering old Board members. Fate had played a nasty trick on them. The Society had waited for thousands of years, and then someone else stole the prize! The students wouldn’t have it for long either. Once The Organization had the location of the pillar and the method of traveling through it, they would be surplus too.
Dennison asked, “You didn’t hear how to use the pillar?”
“No. All they say is that it is in the Book.” Mr. Columbo crossed his arms, “They haven’t allowed me to see the Book!”
Dennison made a mental note of that statement; it was something he could use in future. Any resentment could be magnified. “You mentioned three students?” asked Dennison, moving him on to a different subject.
“Yes.”
The reluctance was expected, but, “Their names were given to the Board?”
“Yes.”
Dennison nodded, “Good, we need those names.”
“I shouldn’t!”
Dennison encouraged him, “It is important information, and we would be very grateful.” Dennison knew how to manipulate this informant; it was all about the money. They both knew that the phrase ‘very grateful’ meant the payment would be doubled.
“What do you intend to do with this?” asked Mr. Colombo, nervously looking out of the window to the East River.
“Our people just want to stay informed. You’ve given us information for years now, and no harm has come from it. You can trust us; we are the same people as you, a branch of the Society that believes in action not endless di
scussion. You help us, and we help your financial situation. It has worked well for both of us.” Dennison knew that if Mr. Columbo ever refused to cooperate, they would threaten to reveal the information that he had passed to them. Mr. Columbo was theirs, bought and paid for.
“The names are Amy Elizabeth La Reine from the United States, Frank Bristol Wiseman from Canada, and Paul Augustine Fortezza from Italy. They were all at a resort close to the pillar location.”
“Thank you Mr. Columbo,” Dennison said as he wrote the names down. He would have a private investigator with his firm quickly confirm the names from passenger manifests, which would give them links to their passports, and from there everything recorded about them.
Dennison opened his briefcase so that the lid hid what was in it. On top of some file folders, alongside the gun and the license to carry it, were two envelopes, one thicker than the other. As usual, one envelope contained $10,000 in $100 bills, and the other envelope had twice that amount. The information he had received this time was critical to The Organization, and the phrase ‘very grateful’ signaled the larger payment. Dennison took out the thicker envelope and slid it across the table. Mr. Columbo looked at it without moving. Dennison just waited, it was always the same; eventually greed overwhelmed Mr. Columbo’s conscience, and he picked up the envelope and put it in his inside jacket pocket. He then left without another word.
Dennison put his notes into his briefcase and closed it. Using his cellphone, he texted six-digits that represented a coded time and meeting place. Dennison went to his office to rearrange his calendar, and send an encrypted report to Director Gesasin. He needed to change the assignments of his District Chiefs and operatives. The Organization now had three other people to watch; his operatives could watch and follow the two in the USA and Canada. The third one in Italy was more of a problem and he would request support in Italy through Director Gesasin, who should be pleased with the progress he’d made. Making a student disappear tended to create too much media and law enforcement attention, so he would recommend waiting until they graduated. The students would be a lot easier to follow and observe than Molinaro, and if they didn’t get the information from observing them, they could abduct, interrogate, and terminate.
Chapter 13 – Christmas Break
Amy walked slowly down the path to the ruins, using the staff as a walking stick. She went to bed with the staff every night in her right hand against the wall, as she had promised to Sally, and now was used to sleeping the whole night that way. There hadn’t been any more flying incidents, but Amy still worried as to why the staff needed to be with her when she slept. She’d been having some dreams about a yellow dome, but didn’t know if that was related. Sally was still annoyed that Amy wouldn’t tell her what this was all about.
It was four months since she’d been to the ruins. Schedules prevented the three of them from doing this before the Christmas break, but they had seven days together now. If everyone’s flights were on schedule, Amy expected to be the last one to arrive at Simon’s campsite. The memory of their trip to another planet had become almost like a dream, a story, but with every step Amy took towards the pillar it was becoming more real.
Her staff was awkward in the narrow trail down to the clearing, catching on the bushes, and she was definitely not used to hiking with this heavy a backpack. She’d agreed that it would be better to use the pillar as they arrived, so no one would hang around the ruins drawing attention, but it made her nervous to use the pillar alone, not knowing, who, if anyone, was at the other end.
Amy entered the clearing and stopped to take in the mural, the ruined walls, and the other ruined building. It seemed a bit unreal that it was all still here. They intended do some exploring, out in the stars. It seemed weird to think that! But, she was here with Simon’s staff, and she was about to do it. Now, Amy told herself. Amy walked across the mural to the sun stone, and then tapped the secure code.
* * *
After the black dome disappeared, there was a rustling in the bushes. A man stepped out. In one hand he held a camcorder, and the other hand was pulling out a cellphone. “All three are now through. All used the same sequence of taps.”
* * *
Nothing had changed; the stone platform on Simon’s planet looked the same, and so did the ferns. Amy headed for the campsite. Paul and Frank were repairing the sunshade. It must have blown over. Chairs were scattered around the clearing. Simon’s tent was collapsed over the camp bed.
“Hi guys!”
That got an instant response. Paul and Frank dropped the canopy, and ran over to Amy. Paul laughing gave her a hug, nearly knocking her over, so that Amy needed to grab his arms. Frank grabbed Amy’s backpack, laughing at them both, and helped Amy take it off. Once the backpack was on the ground, Amy gave Frank a hug, which caused him to blush, which started them all laughing again.
Amy hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them. Email and video chats were no substitute. They spent the next minutes updating each other on what had happened in the last week.
“What’s this?” teased Frank, pointing at her red pillow, which was sticking out of her backpack.
“It’s my pillow, I always travel with it!” she answered, daring him to say more.
They unpacked the gear they'd each brought with them and redistributed the weight between the backpacks.
“When do we go?” Amy asked, anxious to get going.
“I lost a night’s sleep,” Paul answered. “My connections bounced me across Europe, the Caribbean, and Mexico. I'm too tall to sleep on a plane.”
Amy looked at Frank who'd spent most of the day on planes too. He gave her a nod supporting Paul, to her disappointment.
“OK,” said Amy, “better to be awake when we arrive.” She looked at Simon's tent and knew she'd be creeped out to sleep in that. “We need to set up our tent; we can set the alarm for 8 hours of sleep.”
After a meal, they watched the video as Simon described the second planet on their journey. “From here,” Amy knew he meant Sirius A, “you go to the Boat Pillar; it’s on a desert planet called Desert Stronghold Two, so take plenty of water with you. Where you arrive is an incoming pillar known only by a few, so it is not used much. It’s half a day’s walk across the sands to a Transit Station on the far side of the hills near an oasis. In the hills stay away from the spiders, they are large and dangerous. The locals don’t like to allow outsiders to use their pillars so you’ll have to sneak in. Use the green archway.”
They were on top of their sleeping bags; sleeping in the heat of Sirius A was difficult. Amy was both excited and frightened about what was going to happen. She could tell from their breathing that neither Paul nor Frank were asleep yet either. It took Amy a long time to fall asleep, and when she did she dreamed of a big yellow room again. When she woke up she told Paul and Frank about the dreams and her suspicion that the staff had something to do with the dreams.
* * *
The satellite and both sensors had worked well. Whatever was causing the gravitational pulses was within 500 meters of a spot west of San Crecerlan. The center of the area had been received by the Army Intelligence team following the first pulse, and they were in the area within minutes. They spotted nothing except a number of tourists on the paths that went to the ruins above the beach. The second and third pulse had come in but still nothing had been found. Mexican military units were on the way to help sweep the entire jungle in that area inch by inch for any clues.
Colonel Daniel Richards was waiting for a call on the photos of tourists that he’d forwarded to the FBI, but none of the tourists matched the other photos of those previously seen in the area.
* * *
As soon as Amy, Paul and Frank arrived they moved off the pillar; they didn’t know what would happen if you were standing on a platform when someone else came through. It was one of the first things they were going to ask about.
Amy realized that what she had initially seen as a wood wall on her right
was the remains of a large boat lying on its side. Simon had called it the Boat Pillar. The sun was halfway up in the sky, but whether it was morning or afternoon, she couldn’t tell. It was warm, which might mean it was morning. She could feel her skin drying as she stood there. Amy pulled out some moisturizer from a pocket on her backpack.
Paul and Frank were examining the boat. Frank tried to climb into it, but the wood crumbled under his boot, so he just walked around it and took pictures.
Amy saw that she was standing on a wide stone platform that had short flights of steps leading down to the sand on all four sides. The wrecked boat filled one third of the stone platform. It was outside of the large circle that defined where the dome would hit the platform, here defined by the joints in the stone blocks. Paul and Frank had walked down onto the sand to get a better look at the bow of the boat. She joined them.
Frank was curious as to how a boat had come to be in the middle of the desert. Frank wondered out loud, “Where did this boat come from?” He was bending to look more closely when everything went black. He couldn’t see! What he could see was a bright red dot on a cloud of stars. Then it was gone. He could see again. He sucked in a deep breath, and looked at Amy and Paul. They were looking at the boat, not noticing his agitation. His breathing calmed down. What happened? Maybe I’m getting dehydrated, Frank thought, as he drank from his water bottle.
Frank knocked on the wood at the bow; he found it was soft and rotted. There was only one conclusion, “This boat probably came through the pillar. See how the bottom is crushed where it sits on the platform. I think it dropped onto the platform.”
Paul shook his head, “The dome is too small to fit this boat, the dome would cut it in pieces.”
Step on the Sun Page 13