Assault on Kapustin Yar: Guardians of the Timeline - Book 3

By Stephen W. Killam

In winter 1944 the Nazis complete a pair of atomic bombs, the Manhattan Project is woefully behind schedule, and a derelict spacecraft from the future crash lands in Russia. Sixty years later the Russians have constructed a top secret military base called Kapustin Yar around the wreckage. The Guardians of the Timeline discover that in the aftermath of a major conflict one of their team has been lost in time and meet a mysterious group of people who cause each member to question the paradox of freewill and predestination. The newcomers are as passionate about preserving the timeline and finding the missing team member as the Guardians. They combine forces and embark on an adventure that takes them from the desert of Iraq, to the caves of Easter Island, to a life or death race against time on the freeways of Los Angeles, and ultimately to an assault on Kapustin Yar. There they seek access to the remains of the spaceship that crashed sixty years before so that core members of the team may embark on a mission to ensure that events in 1944 transpire as they should and the timeline is preserved. Assault on Kapustin Yar is the third book in the Guardians of the Timeline series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456898465

Stephen W. Killam

Stephen W. Killam grew up in Massachusetts, graduated from Texas A&M in 1985, and currently lives near Chicago. He is married to Annette and together they have raised four wonderful children. Stephen is the creator of the Hundred Worlds universe and the author of the Guardians of the Timeline sci-fi adventure series.

Book preview

ASSAULT ON

KAPUSTIN YAR

Guardians of the Timeline

Book 3

STEPHEN W. KILLAM

Copyright © 2011 by Stephen W. Killam.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011905175

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4568-9845-8

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4568-9844-1

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4568-9846-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

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CONTENTS

Dramatis Personae

Prologue The Manhattan Project Disrupted

Chapter 1 The Twins

Chapter 2 The Freewill Problem

Chapter 3 The General’s Letter

Chapter 4 The Next Generation

Chapter 5 The First Mission

Chapter 6 The Bunker Assault

Chapter 7 The Final Audition

Chapter 8 The First Two Dominoes

Chapter 9 The Next Two Dominoes

Chapter 10 The Last Two Dominoes

Chapter 11 The Manhattan Project Reloaded

Epilogue The Most Popular Show On Television

To Peter, my brother and best friend,

and to my parents, Bill and Corinne,

who raised us so well.

Also by Stephen W. Killam

A Flight of Onesimus

My Life During Wartime—Guardians of the Timeline Book 2

Vee with rifle-gray.jpg

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Interdimensional Search and Rescue Team (INSERT)

Commander Stephen Xavier Davis—INSERT field operative and former Hundred Worlds fighter pilot.

The Guardian, also known as AVK and by several other aliases with those same initials—INSERT field operative and Timeline Guardian.

Michelle-Michele Davis—INSERT field operative and daughter of Commander Davis.

Justin Tyner—INSERT field operative and Timeline Guardian.

Dr. Jennifer Ames—INSERT scientist.

Major Albert Thornton—INSERT assault team leader.

Third-Generation Timeline Guardians

Deborah

Priscilla—twin sister of Deborah

Aquila—husband of Priscilla

Jonathan William also known as Jay-Dub

Alohilani—wife of Jay-Dub

Victoria—also known as Vee

Kekoa—husband of Vee

Benjamin Boaz also known as B. B.

Pomaika’i, also known as Miss P., sister of Alohilani

Central Intelligence Agency

Director Patricia Klein—director of CIA Paranormal Research

Special Agent Harvey Long—CIA Paranormal Research Team

Special Agent Oscar Dotel—CIA covert operations agent

Jimmy Jay—UFO conspiracy theorist

Others

Sally Bird—fugitive from the Hundred Worlds

Black Angus—notorious cybercriminal

Lil Fox—notorious cybercriminal

Nicolai Chekov—KGB field operative leader

Boris Alexanderov—KGB field operative

Peaches Nixon—aspiring actress

Luther Blue—Hollywood stuntman

Stefan Ziggy Zygmurski—owner of picture car lot and movie prop warehouse

PROLOGUE

THE MANHATTAN PROJECT DISRUPTED

AUGUST 1944

LOS ALAMOS, NEW MEXICO

Dr. Robert Oppenheimer was faced with a nearly insurmountable engineering problem. He sat alone in an empty conference room contemplating the ramifications of defeat. The renowned physicist pondered how the shape of the world could change based upon the success or failure of the military project that he led and considered the series of events that had brought him to this point.

Five years ago, Albert Einstein wrote a letter to President Franklin Delano Roosevelt proposing the development of the most powerful weapon that had ever been conceived. Einstein was deeply concerned that the Nazis in Germany would be the first to develop an atomic weapon and urged the president to begin a research program in the United States. Nominal research began within the year. However, his proposal gained serious momentum after the United States was forced into the war in December 1941.

In August of 1942, the Manhattan Engineering District was created, and Brigadier General Leslie R. Groves was set in place as its director. Men and women went off to fight the war throughout Europe and across the Pacific. Those who stayed behind supported the war through various activities on the home front. One way or another, everyone was involved in a united effort to defeat tyranny. General Groves’s particular responsibility was to pull together the brightest minds available in order to ensure that the most important support effort of all was successful.

One of Groves’s most significant team members was Dr. Robert Oppenheimer. In 1943, Dr. Oppenheimer established a research center in the New Mexico desert and began to oversee the most elaborate military project in world history—the development of an atomic bomb. Unfortunately, roughly a year and a half later, progress was not going as planned. Earlier today, Oppenheimer and his staff met in a conference room to discuss the obstacles that threatened to derail their project. Forty minutes into the meeting, the attendees were staring across the table at each other with a mixture of grim, frustrated, and angry faces. The project was not on schedule, and the military leaders did not believe that the empire of Japan could be defeated without it. While Oppenheimer refused to say that he needed a miracle, he was forced to admit that his team would need a profound revelation to solve the complex issues that had stalled the critically important project. Unbeknownst to the scientists of the Manhattan Project, similar efforts were taking place in the secret military research centers of two other world powers.

Outside Moscow, Soviet scientists were busy with research on their nation’s version of the Manhattan Project. They proceeded in secret unbeknownst to their American allies because, although the USSR and the USA had joined together to fight the Nazis, it was highly unlikely the nations would cooperate with one another after Germany was defeated. Like their American counterparts, the Soviet researchers had stumbled upon some inexorable problems of enormous complexity. Given the fact that a vast majority of their republic’s focus was squarely upon the effort to defeat the Nazis, they could not hope for an influx of resources anytime soon. They continued their work with great resolve hoping for the end of the war, the potential of added support, and eventual success.

In a secret location in the heart of Germany, Nazi scientists were assigned to develop nuclear weapons in order to save the Third Reich from impending defeat. Today, they reviewed their progress with the Führer, Adolph Hitler. While the scientists and the military leaders who worked alongside them were afraid to smile, they were able to deliver a favorable report. Their progress combined with the recent advances in rocketry had put Nazi Germany on the brink of being able to split the atomic nucleus of the uranium 235 atom and also deliver a warhead to a distant target by long-range missile. While the generals were painfully aware that the Nazi’s biggest problem was holding back the Allied armies that were closing in on Berlin on both the western and the Russian fronts, the Führer was pleased with the progress of the atomic research. Hitler made an inspiring speech to the nuclear scientists before leaving in a heavily guarded convoy. As the Führer departed, neither he nor the scientists working on their atomic weapons were aware that they were significantly further down the path in the quest for nuclear superiority than their counterparts in the United States.

CHAPTER 1

THE TWINS

Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of lightning, at once exists and expires.

—Charles Caleb Colton

JULY 4, 1976

AUSTIN, TEXAS

The summer in Texas was long and hot, yet the triple-digit temperatures did not prevent the residents of Maple Street from enjoying the Independence Day holiday in a residential section of the lone star state’s capitol. Parents sought shelter from the blistering sun underneath shade trees and staved off mild dehydration by guzzling ice tea while children enjoyed cups of Kool-Aid in between dives on the Slip-N-Slide. Pop music blared from a stereo set that had been moved into the backyard and set up next to the grill. As grease dripped into the charcoal, flames leaped to scorch the burgers and hot dogs the owner of the home was roasting.

While Mr. and Mrs. Robert Thornton and their neighbors enjoyed the barbeque in celebration of the nation’s bicentennial, a shiny black Cadillac pulled up in front of the house and parked in the street. The car looked like it had just been driven out of the showroom. The driver’s side door opened, and a solitary figure carrying an expensive leather briefcase walked to the front door where an American flag was prominently displayed on a flagpole. The stocky man rang the doorbell twice before walking around back to join the party. Mr. Thornton had just rescued the final flaming hamburger from the grill when he noticed his new arrival. As he passed the plate to a hungry teenager, he extended his hand to his wife, Stacey. She accepted his hand while quickly and politely ending a casual conversation with a neighbor. Bob and Stacey walked together to meet their visitor, both displaying exaggerated smiles. The three entered the Thornton home through the back door and sat down in the parlor. After an exchange of pleasantries, the visitor announced the purpose of his surprise visit. I would like to talk to you about the next phase of our plan, and I would like to see Albert.

He’s playing in the backyard, responded Stacey unemotionally.

Are you having any second thoughts about sending him off to school this fall?

Nicolai, we are enthusiastically committed. We are willing to enroll Albert in any school that will help him to get into one of the nation’s military academies.

Excellent. I believe that he will one day make a fine officer.

I am sure he will, agreed Stacey with a bright smile.

We need disciplined young men who can rise through the ranks quickly.

We do indeed if we are to defeat the imperialists, added the confident young mother as Nicolai rose from the armchair.

He looked down at Stacey and said, You and your husband are true heroes. Your sacrifice is much appreciated in the homeland.

We have lived here for ten years now and will continue to live in this land for as long as it provides a benefit to our people. It is a reasonable service, said Stacey as her visitor walked toward the back of the home.

At the back door of the home, eleven-year-old Albert Thornton spotted a familiar face, dropped his squirt gun, and sprinted to meet the man at the door. Uncle Nicky, he yelled as he ran to meet the man who had just emerged from the doorway. Happy Fourth of July.

Yes, happy Independence Day to you, Albert, remarked the visitor who the lad knew as his uncle. Enjoy your summer, Albert. This fall, you will begin to become a man.

You bet, Uncle Nicky. I will be an excellent student and, someday, an excellent soldier.

Our country needs good soldiers. I am looking forward to working with you, said Nicolai.

Mom and Dad say you can help me become exactly what I need to be.

Yes. Your mom and dad are very wise, and they are true heroes… just like you.

JANUARY 2, 1992

SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

Major Albert Thornton jogged along the beach having nearly completed his four-mile morning run. He was trying to enjoy some rest and relaxation after a recent promotion. The major had accepted a unique assignment—one which had led to a multitude of considerations that were crowding his mind. Running almost always helped the newly promoted officer clear his head.

There were several other joggers sharing the beach. One of them, an attractive blond woman, caught Thornton’s eye as she passed. Three of her features were quite notable: she was less than five feet tall, her hair was nearly white, and she had an almost unnaturally perfect suntan, even for a southern Californian. As Thornton turned to watch her run, another figure captured his attention. A stout man was standing next to an old black Cadillac. Although the model indicated that the car was about fifteen years old, it looked like it had been maintained in excellent condition. The caddy was parked by a set of stairs leading from the road to the beach. As the petite bleach-blond jogger skipped up the steps, Thornton made eye contact with the man he knew only as Uncle Nicky. He turned and followed the path the female jogger had traveled up the stairs to the roadway. By the time he reached the top step, he had completely forgotten the girl. He spoke to his contact in Russian, It is good to see you again, Uncle. You look well.

The older man replied, You are too kind, Albert. I am not as young as I once was. You are aging well though, and your Russian has gotten much better over the years. Now join me in the car so that we can discuss your recent promotion and the opportunities that lie in your future. Thornton slid into the front seat, and his contact took his place behind the steering wheel. As soon as both men closed the car doors, the older man began his discussion. We are all proud of your promotion to the rank of major. Please tell me more about your new assignment. It seems that your hard work has allowed you a unique opportunity.

Thornton let out a long sigh and stared straight out the windshield. He spoke with carefully worded sentences and a controlled pace of speech. I am not fully certain of what I have become a part of. Last year, my platoon discovered what we thought were two aircraft buried in the sands of Kuwait. The technology was beyond anything I had ever seen, but what really blew me away was the green mass that surrounded the aircraft. It is difficult to describe it, Uncle. It was some sort of green goo that was filled with twinkling lights and seemed to be both mechanical and yet somehow alive. The goo and the craft it protected were obviously futuristic weapons. I could only believe that they were weapons not of this Earth. The next morning my entire platoon was taken to an undisclosed military base. We were questioned for days, and when the questioning was over, we were asked to join a top secret organization. Technically, we are still US Army, but we are attached to an organization called the Interdimensional Search and Rescue Team.

Were these alien craft you saw, Albert… UFOs? asked Nicolai.

That is what I thought at first, Uncle, but actually I am not sure. The truth is challenging to determine.

Tell me, Albert. Tell me all about it, said Nicolai in a soothing voice.

My platoon’s primary responsibility is to guard the hangars where the interdimensional craft are maintained. The leaders swear that they are not from other planets but rather from other dimensions. Imagine that. Either way, they admit that they are not from Earth. There are five hangars at a secret base built inside the White Sands Missile Range. One is an entrance to the INSERT headquarters, which is built under the surface. Another holds unidentified electromechanical refuse that the astronauts collected from the surface of the moon during the Apollo program. A third holds a pair of ships, obviously fighters, which were recovered in Southeast Asia in 1975. A fourth holds the mysterious pair of interdimensional craft that my platoon discovered in the desert. They are still locked inside the green goo, and the scientists are not making progress freeing them from the barrier. The fifth hangar is empty.

Albert, can you get pictures of these—what was it you called them?—interdimensional craft?

It will not be easy, Uncle. Security is higher than anything I would have imagined. Although my classification is above top secret, it would be challenging to extract information. This base is unknown even to the highest-ranking officials in the American government. I have been told that even the president does not know of INSERT and the hangars at Area 52.

Hah—it is better that he does not. Presidents come and go, Albert. Countries come and go, Albert. Just eight days ago with the resignation of President Gorbachev we saw the end of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Intelligence agents and soldiers—men like me and you—are the ones that need such knowledge, said Nicolai with bravado. Now listen carefully, Albert. The Americans are not the only ones with interdimensional craft held on secret bases. Today I am telling you a secret of which even the politburo has been kept unaware. Like the American president, the politicians need not know all secrets. The Soviet Union has maintained a secret base inside Kapustin Yar.

The Cosmodrome? asked Thornton.

Yes, Albert. While the primary mission of that base has been to test advanced rockets and missiles, there has also been a group there studying the remains of some mysterious wreckage, which must have come from an advanced civilization. We have studied it and kept it secret since 1944. No doubt this new Commonwealth of Independent States, which will succeed the USSR, will continue to design rockets. Hopefully, they will continue to keep the Cosmodrome as a vital facility. No matter what happens, I will keep the wreckage of these advanced vehicles a secret. I will keep them a secret from whatever kind of politicians rise in Russia—communists, socialists, capitalists, or anything else. I will protect the secret until the time is right to exploit it. Now with your position in this secret American base, you are in a very fortuitous position to help our homeland better understand the remains left behind by our… interdimensional visitors.

"Yes, Uncle. And to ensure that the Americans do not gain any advantage over us by studying the advanced technology.

Well said, Albert. Well said, said Nicolai approvingly.

I will stay in touch, Uncle. Exciting times lie ahead.

Yes indeed, Albert. Yes indeed. I knew that you were the right man for this type of work. I could feel it even when you were a young boy.

JANUARY 2, 2002

SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

Ten years after their last meeting at the south California beach, Nicolai and Albert were once again discussing the secrets of INSERT inside a black Cadillac. This time, Uncle Nicky’s black sedan was replaced by a limousine. The men sat together in the backseat while a professional driver sat in the front separated by a soundproof barrier. Although Nicolai was no longer able to drive, he maintained his role as Albert’s contact with the KGB. Major Albert Thornton and his control had met approximately once each year since Thornton had joined the United States’ top secret organization that investigated extraterrestrial visitors and interdimensional threats. The two were able to confirm that the spacecraft held inside the lighted green goo were of a similar type to the one that was at Kapustin Yar. Nicolai was able to maintain an appropriate level of security inside the top secret section of the Cosmodrome where the craft were studied. Aside from the revelation that both the Russians and Americans secretly held technology from the same advanced civilization, there had not been many developments during the last decade. Interdimensional visits were rare occurrences. There had been none other than the moon crash in 1969, the Southeast Asia recovery in 1975, and the Kuwait discovery in 1991 until September 12, 2001. On that date, the first live interdimensional travelers landed at Area 52, the INSERT headquarters hidden deep inside White Sands. The INSERT staff learned more about interdimensional travel in the next three months than in the bases’ entire twenty some odd years of operations. Nicolai listened intently as Albert explained the arrival of a man named Commander Davis and his daughter named Michelle-Michele. They had been slaves serving an interstellar smuggler who traveled a part of the galaxy that they called the Hundred Worlds. They crashed on Earth and became involved in a struggle with criminals from their own universe. During this battle, their master died, and they emerged with their freedom and possession of his spaceship, the Tres Ochos. The commander and his daughter were traveling with two others who described themselves as Guardians of the Timeline. One was a woman who called herself by her initials, AVK, and the other was a boy who went by the name of Justin Tyner. The four pledged to help INSERT with its interdimensional challenges.

They had explained the origins of the spacecraft and wreckage stored inside the Area 52 hangars and of the Hundred Worlds universe from where it all had come from. As Thornton explained these origins, Nicolai listened and periodically interjected a series of one-word responses including: fascinating, unbelievable, and incredible.

Thornton explained that there was a network of planets and moons called the Hundred Worlds. They were located hundreds of light-years away from Earth and had been initially populated by an intermingled group of ten scientists from 2969 who survived a catastrophic timeline split and fifty residents of Earth who had nearly perished at sea in 1601. The scientists inadvertently took these seafarers aboard after a crash landing off the coast of Nova Scotia, left Earth, and ultimately settled on a planet they called New Earth. During the next four hundred years, these sixty settlers colonized hundreds of worlds but could never find a way back to Earth until a passage was discovered in 1955. The Hundred Worlds government kept this passage a secret. However, the commander and his ship accidentally broke through in 2001 when fleeing law enforcement from New Earth. After crashing in Arizona, the commander and his daughter met AVK and Justin. The guardian, AVK, helped Commander Davis defeat a band of Hundred Worlds criminals who kidnapped Michelle-Michele.

Albert, please tell me… what do you mean by a passage? asked Nicolai.

"Uncle Nicky, you know that faster than light travel is impossible. Residents of the Hundred Worlds move between star systems through a series of hyperspace gates that are shortcuts through parallel universes. The gate system does not allow unrestricted passage from every world because each world is connected only to four others with two gates leading in and two gates leading out. Furthermore, many of the gates were purposely destroyed during the Hundred Worlds civil war. Now the Hundred Worlds universe is divided into three parts and travel between those three sections is not possible.

Amazing—what other technology do the residents of these Hundred Worlds have at their disposal, Albert? asked Nicolai.

They have pretty much everything you’d expect an advanced civilization to have—just like in the movies. Albert laughed. Their spaceships are protected by force fields, and they are capable of making them almost invisible. They have artificial gravity and sophisticated energy weapons, explained Albert. I think that the most amazing thing has to be their use of extradimensions.

Excuse me?

They utilize a pair of alternate universes for storage and travel. Regular space, which they refer to as 1-2-3 space, constitutes the dimensions we are used to. These new extradimensions, which they take the convention of calling 5-6-7 space and 8-9-10 space, are used to store fuel and cargo. What’s more, they can create shortcuts through them just like they do for hyperspace travel. The only difference is that while the hyperspace gates are permanent pathways between stars, the 8-9-10 space-point generators can only open a small passage for a short amount of time. Maybe two or three minutes.

We need to learn all we can, said Nicolai.

Of course, Uncle, replied Thornton.

But that is not what I need to discuss today. Albert, I am not well. I hate to admit it, but this may be the last time we meet. Before Albert could object, Nicolai raised a hand to tell him to remain quiet. Thornton obeyed and the old man continued. I am dying, Albert. I do not want to discuss it, and I do not want you to focus on it. What I am about to tell you may possibly be even more fascinating than what you have recently learned about this Hundred Worlds. Albert, when I first recruited your parents, you were just a baby. I chose them because of you… because you had a unique name. We hoped that you would attend a US military academy, and you did. We hoped that you would be promoted quickly, and you were. I hoped that you would get into a position to fulfill an expectation that I never dared to share with your parents… and now it seems that you have.

Uncle Nicky, asked Albert tentatively, what are you talking about?

The old man coughed and then cleared his throat before continuing. The KGB has a record of a man that a young soldier found inside some of the wreckage we keep at Kapustin Yar. He was discovered dying inside an aircraft of unimaginable sophistication. Before he died, he claimed to be attempting to deliver the secrets of the atomic bomb to the Soviet Army. If he had been successful, then the USSR, not the USA, would have completed their development of the atomic bomb and ended the war with Japan. The Americans would not have risen to such dominance, and the Soviet Union probably could have taken all of Europe under its control.

That is unbelievable, Uncle, said Thornton slowly.

No—what is unbelievable is this. That man’s name was Major Albert Thornton. You are that man. The proclamation was followed by a few moments of silence as the weight of Nicolai’s words settled upon Thornton.

Uncle, that is impossible. The one thing that the guardians have made very clear is that they are not capable of time travel. There was only one time travel experiment, and it happened in the year 2969. It created a timeline split… a catastrophe of sorts. Since the creation of the Hundred Worlds in 1601, no one has even thought of making another attempt. They do not have the technology to try again because it was lost when the original timeline split off, explained Albert.

"I do not doubt your words, Albert. But consider this—last year, I am sure that you would have said extradimensions were impossible, yet you explained them to me quite confidently today. Perhaps you will discover something new in the next few years and learn that time travel is possible… said Nicolai with his voice trailing off.

And perhaps I will go back to the Soviet Union in 1944, finished Albert with a faint hint of optimism.

Albert, you have to go. I know you will go. I know because I saw you. I was the young soldier who found you dying in the wreckage of that… interdimensional craft. Both men allowed the statement to hang in the air. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, I have ensured that the secrets held at Kapustin Yar have remained secret and have formed an elite team of soldiers who will come and help you when the time is right. I may not survive to see it, Albert, but one day I know you will travel time and set us up for a glorious future… a future better than this current history we have lived. You can bring the technology of this advanced civilization to your country when she really needs it.

And this time I will not die in the wreckage, said Albert with confidence.

Exactly, said the old man, this time you will be a real Russian hero.

Just like you, Uncle. Just like you.

7:45 A.M.

DECEMBER 26, 2004

INDIAN OCEAN, WEST OF SUMATRA, INDONESIA

On this morning, Major Albert Thornton was a prisoner of war. When Area 52 was attacked several days earlier, Major Thornton and the entire INSERT staff were captured by interdimensional terrorists from the Hundred Worlds. These beings were genetically enhanced humans whose DNA had been so drastically altered that they now looked grotesque. The unaltered residents of the Hundred Worlds called these beings with ashen skin and large black eyes Greys. This morning, Commander Davis, Michelle-Michele, Justin, and the Guardian had rescued most of the INSERT staff. Now only the Guardian, Justin, and Thornton remained inside the Greys’ ship, which lay critically damaged on the ocean floor about to explode. Thornton had dragged two of the INSERT senior leaders, Smith and Ecks, who had died during the rescue to a room full of 8-9-10 space-point generators, which the Guardian believed were their only hope of escape before the imminent explosion.

Inside the room with the three portals, Justin spoke directly to the Guardian while Major Thornton listened. You heard the commander. We need to get out immediately.

Major Thornton eyed the glowing boxes suspiciously. Seriously, these things could lead us anywhere—back to the Greys’ home world or onto another one of their ships or worse, he said.

None of those places could be worse than a ship whose reactor core is about to explode, Major T., replied the Guardian in a terse tone.

You’re right, admitted Thornton.

I’ve got a pretty good feeling about this one here, said Justin as he approached the portal in the center.

Really, said the Guardian, that’s the one I saw the Greys escaping into when I first looked inside the room.

So we should definitely take another one, said Justin. There is no sense in following them.

Maybe it’s the best choice, yelled Thornton. "If they took it, then it is sure to lead to safety.

We do not all have to choose the same path, said the Guardian. I like the idea of staying together because that could help us if we get stuck in an undesirable location but—

But what? asked Thornton.

But… there is no way I am going to order anyone to choose a path that they do not feel good about. Truth is, we have nothing to go by… and very little time to figure anything out.

Okay. I’m using the portal that you say the Greys used. Help me send Smith and Ecks through first, and then I’ll send myself through.

Justin and the Guardian both nodded in agreement and lugged the bodies of the two INSERT leaders up the stairs to Thornton, who lowered them into the gleaming light. After they disappeared, Major Thornton turned to face his two comrades. No time for long good-byes. He shook hands with each of them and said, Until we meet again. Then he stepped backward and off the platform and dropped into the white light.

10:00 A.M.

DECEMBER 28, 2004

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, EXACT LOCATION CLASSIFIED

Two days after Thornton disappeared from the Greys’ ship, Commander Davis and Michelle-Michele were reunited with Justin and the Guardian at a CIA safe house. Commander Davis was a forty-one-year-old, square jawed, muscular man who stood just a bit over six feet tall. He was clean-shaven and wore his hair in a style that made him look every part the career military man that he was. A careful study of his face and hands revealed numerous small scars, which he had collected in the various battles during his life.

The Guardian was a thirty-six-year-old woman who stood five foot four and a half inches tall. With her smooth skin and curvaceous build, she could easily pass as being ten years younger. Her stunning features included dark brown eyes and wonderfully thick yet manageable dark brown hair that could be worn in a multitude of styles. Recently, she had died her hair a metallic blond color as part of a disguise and had not had the time to restore her natural color, admitting that she had changed her hairstyle so many times that she didn’t know what it looked like.

Michelle-Michele Davis was also five foot four and half inches tall. Her twenty-first birthday was still a few months away. She was very slender in a way that was more accurately described as limber as opposed to skinny. Michelle-Michele wore her shoulder length, light-brown hair in a ponytail and eschewed makeup. The natural beauty of her bright eyes and smile made her stand out among a thousand others. Her eye color was impossible to define, being one that shifted between blue, gray, and green. More defining was the fact that her eyes always seemed to have an indescribable sparkle. Likewise, there was also something about her smile that was indescribably special. Much more than bright teeth, she conveyed an inner joy that shone forth in a way that was extraordinary.

Justin Tyner was a twenty-four-year-old who stood five foot nine. He kept his brown hair cut short and his beard well groomed. Although he had experimented with numerous variations of beard, moustache, and sideburns styles, he had settled on growing a quarter-inch-long beard that covered only his chin. Although Justin could be described as handsome, he had no features that made him stand out as remarkable.

Justin heard a cellular phone ringing. The persistent ring was coming from inside a black trunk that Secret Service agents had left with the guardians. It was filled with a collection of Hundred Worlds devices that had been collected during the events of the last couple of weeks. Justin and the Guardian opened its lid, while the commander and his daughter stood behind them. Inside, a red cell phone was blaring. The Guardian picked it up and flipped open its top to silence the ringer.

Hello, hello, who is this? said the voice on the phone.

The Guardian carefully placed the phone to her mouth. I am called the Guardian. Who are you, and what do you want?

Guardian? asked the voice. This is Major Thornton. I’ve been transported. I have found the four missing members of my assault team, and we are in some kind of a base. It’s… it’s… it’s fantastic, but I am afraid that… I might not ever get home, he said as the connection started to break up.

Where are you, Thornton? Just tell us where you are, and we’ll try to come get you, she responded.

What? Please repeat, he said amid the growing static.

We’ll try to come get you. Where are you? repeated the Guardian.

"I have no idea… crackkk . . . indescribable… crackkkkk . . . but it’s like nothing… crackkkkkkk."

On the highest point of a ridge several miles away from the safe house, a group of men were huddled inside a van, which had been modified for use in covert surveillance. They were monitoring all forms of electromagnetic communication within the line of site of the vehicle. How long is this supposed to take, Captain? asked a technician with thick glasses and a pair of headphones.

The message is supposed to be delivered two days after the tsunami. The killer wave struck Asia on December 26. Today is the 28 so the message should come today. Keep listening, monitor your equipment, and stop asking questions, replied the captain.

Okay. But who is this guy—this Major Thornton? Why is he so important?

I told you to stop asking questions. It will all make sense in due time.

Sorry—I just do not understand this mission, Captain. Before the captain could respond, a third man yelled excitedly.

I got it, the excited man said confidently.

Play it, ordered the captain.

After the group listened to Thornton’s message, the captain announced, That’s it—the message we have been waiting for. He turned to the tech with the headphones and asked, Do you have the coordinates?

I do, the technician replied quickly as he scribbled some notes on a pad of paper. When he finished writing, he handed the pad to the captain.

After studying the notes, the captain announced, Let’s move. He climbed to the front and took a seat next to the driver. Seconds later, the van was headed down the road that led to the safe house.

On the shoulder of a road that bordered the CIA safe house property line sat a shiny sports car idling quietly. Inside the vehicle were two people monitoring a sophisticated radio receiver and scanning for signals. As soon as the message from Thornton was received, the one in the driver’s seat said to the passenger, That’s it.

Is it interdimensional? asked the passenger.

Definitely, and it was received at the location we expected.

Location alpha—I’ll move to my car and meet you there. Full speed.

That’s the only speed I know, replied the driver. Seconds later, a pair of cars sped down the winding road that led to the safe house.

The transmission terminated, and the five senior members of INSERT looked at each other silently. No one was quite sure what to say and each wondered who would speak first. Justin eyed the commander carefully until a pair of voices broke the silence.

We’re on it, said the Guardian and Michelle-Michele in unison.

As the two women spoke with enthusiasm, Justin looked to the commander who shook his head slightly and made an expression to convey his thought that Justin should accept the inevitability