The Nabatean Secret Read online

  “Yes, we have. That’s the reason for my call. I wanted to tell you in person, the request is denied.”

  Sullivan swallowed to clear his throat of the sudden dryness. Graziella’s voice sounded as if it originated from the Arctic. The words “tell you in person” had a much deeper meaning—it was a warning, not a courtesy.

  “But…” he began. Mopping his forehead with a previously pristine linen handkerchief, Sullivan stopped himself just in time. It wouldn’t do to voice his suspicion that Peter Nikolaev’s death wasn’t a simple accident, nor that he feared the same fate if the captured Spetsnaz squad’s information led to his exposure.

  Speaking smoothly, as if no “but” was on the table, Graziella continued. “You are our most valuable asset inside the US government. You will uphold your oath.”

  She might as well have added the missing parts of that sentence— “or you will be eliminated”, and the second part, “no one is irreplaceable.”

  “Of course,” he replied obediently. Every councilor knew that once they took the oath, there was no turning back. They were “in it” for life. Breaking the oath meant life would become very short.

  “Good.” Graziella disconnected without further niceties.

  Jason Sullivan sat abruptly in his favorite chair. The phrase “stuck between a rock and a hard place” had never been more appropriate than now.

  Chapter 3 - A most unusual night

  Washington DC, 8:00 p.m., January 10

  Kelly White had a moment’s reflection that she was on a most unusual date before the man in question flashed her a smile that promised a most unusual night to come.

  Russell McCormick, Assistant Director of the Counterintelligence Division of the FBI, handsome, a young-looking fifty-year-old, and thank God divorced, was a most unusual man. In fact, something could actually come of this, their third date in two weeks. Russell was apparently unintimidated by her reputation.

  Kelly knew she was not unattractive. At forty-five, she was fit but still curvy. At five feet ten inches, she looked average men in the eye, and most who got close enough to know her feared her. Her career as one of the top Counterintelligence Special Agents in the US Army Intelligence and Security Command, INSCOM, was part of the problem. A no-nonsense, professional, married-to-my-job kind of woman, her demeanor overcame the attraction most men felt, often on the first date.

  That’s if it even got to a first date.

  Kelly’s ambition was to be the first woman in charge of INSCOM. She hoped when it happened it would compensate her for the sacrifice of a romantic relationship and family. But now that Russell was in the picture, maybe she could have both.

  Later, she’d wonder if the thought itself jinxed her.

  No sooner had the pleasant thoughts crossed her mind than two CI agents she didn’t know flanked her and ushered her away without a word of explanation. She could only cast a glance behind her and give an apologetic shrug at her date. His mouth open in an unspoken, almost painful-looking protest, he stared after her.

  Her boss, Terrance Ham, met her on the tarmac beside a Gulfstream G280 whose engines were already warming up. An aide handed her a small bag, remarking, “Your clothing, ma’am.”

  “Terry, what’s this?” she asked. The same question had received no response from the CI agents who transported her there. But Ham answered.

  “It’s all on this flash drive. Your team members are already aboard. You were the last we tracked down. We’re already behind schedule, so get your briefing from the information on the drive and then brief your team. I’ll get back to you with more details as soon as I have any.

  “Oh, by the way, you’re on your way to Germany. Good luck.”

  With that, he turned away, and Kelly squared her shoulders. She had made a name for herself as a Counterintelligence Special Agent and was tenacious when working on an assignment. She was good at her job and got results.

  I can handle this.

  Counterintelligence Special Agents, aka CI’s, were trained to conduct undercover counterintelligence activities to assess, counteract, take advantage of, and neutralize adversarial threats to the United States Army and US Department of Defense.

  Kelly, like the rest of her team, carried a badge and a gun, confirming her status as a federal law enforcement officer. She had arrest powers and jurisdiction in the investigation of national security crimes, including treason, spying, espionage, sedition, subversion, sabotage, and international terrorism.

  A brief discussion of their destination revealed the current assignment to be one of the latter, or so she assumed. How else could an entire Army base disappear into thin air? Unbelievable. If she hadn’t been on a plane bound for Stuttgart, she’d have considered it a hoax.

  Chapter 4 - An interesting assignment

  Each of Kelly’s seven team members had a different story about what they were doing when they were hustled away on this mission. For the first hour or so of the flight, while they were waiting for Kelly to study the brief, they lightheartedly exchanged those stories. One or two had tales a bit too embarrassing to let out all the details but enough to generate a few rounds of raucous laughter and razzing.

  Kelly had ignored the party atmosphere, but the expression on her face eventually caught the attention of her team members. Now they had gone quiet and were staring at her, waiting for her to tell them what was going on.

  She became aware of the silence, looked up, and found them all gazing at her. She schooled her face to professional neutrality and cleared her throat.

  “Okay, here it is. Please save your questions. There was an incident at Patch Barracks, USAG Stuttgart, Germany, at about 1 a.m. Zulu. Some kind of explosion. First reports are it’s ugly, hundreds of people dead, buildings turned into rubble, and all electronics rendered inoperable, fried. We’re to get the details on site.

  “Soldiers from the Panzer Kaserne, Kelley Barracks, Robinson Barracks, and Stuttgart Army Airfield were called in to cordon the place off and keep it locked down—no media is allowed near the place.

  “Casualties were medevaced to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Landstuhl, Rhineland-Palatinate, Germany. It’s the largest military hospital outside the United States. During the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, it served as the nearest treatment center for wounded soldiers coming from the frontlines. It also serves US military personnel stationed in the European Union as well as their family members.”

  She shrugged. “As much as I would like to tell you more than that, I can’t. There is nothing more. All I have here is history and background about the base and German traditions. You’re welcome to copy it over to your laptops and read it. I hope Terrance will have more information for us before we land.” She held her secured satellite phone up.

  Shocked into solemn silence, each team member produced a thumb drive and handed it to her. Within a few minutes, the cabin was quiet again, everyone reading.

  A lot of questions and “what ifs” were running through Kelly’s mind. Incident or accident? Deliberate? Terrorist attack?

  Patch Barracks was home to units critical to national security—US European Command (EUCOM), the Department of Defense Unified Combatant Command for Europe and Northern Asia, Special Operations Command, Europe (SOCEUR), which commands US Special Operations Forces units in Europe, Defense Information Systems Agency, and NSA/CSS Representative Europe office (NCEUR).

  A terrorist strike against Patch Barracks would not just be a statement. It would seriously hurt US Military operations in Europe and harm their European special operations command and information systems.

  Furthermore, it would send a message to the US—we can attack you anywhere, even your military installations.

  That didn’t even take into account the tragedy of the lives lost. Kelly brought her racing thoughts under control. Don’t borrow trouble. Wait until you have the facts, all the facts, and nothing but the facts.

  It was a long flight to Stuttgart. Eight hours. To occupy her mind with something
other than useless conjecture, more out of frustration about the lack of information than interest, she re-opened the flash drive and selected one of the background files, named Germany’s Fifth Season.

  Fasching? Is that how it’s pronounced? Jeez, they let off steam for four months? That’s a lot of steam. Right up until Lent. Hmmm. Kelly read the first few paragraphs and then paused to think. Silly season—all sorts of “foolish” events. The incident took place on January 11, just four days after the official start of this Fasching season—that would be the ideal time for an attack. Foolish indeed–an attack on an American military installation.

  She silently catalogued the list of such attacks. Thirteen attacks on US embassies and sixty deaths during the presidency of George W. Bush alone. Another nine during Barack Obama’s presidency, including Benghazi, Libya, in total causing thirty-nine more deaths.

  A favorite pastime for terrorists, it seems.

  Except this one was not an embassy or consulate. It was a military base. Well, there’s precedent there, too. Yes, there have been horrific attacks. Ft. Dix, Ft. Hood, and the Washington, DC, naval yard sprang to her mind.

  Stop thinking about it, she commanded herself. No lone gunman here, and none of those ever wiped out an entire base, buildings and all.

  It was futile to guess. She’d know soon enough.

  She closed her eyes, intending to sleep. Within seconds, her satellite phone rang.

  “Terrance. What do you have?” The man on the other end of the phone, despite being her commanding officer, was also a good friend. Her use of his formal first name rather than the shortened “Terry” she usually called him would alert him to her stress. Too late now, though. The word was already out of her mouth.

  “Kelly, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Anxious to be on the ground and get to the bottom of this.” She winced again at her clipped tone. Chill. He’s going to pull you off the mission if you don’t get yourself under control.

  “About that. I have a bit more, and you aren’t going to like it. Preliminary intel says it wasn’t a normal explosion. Not like one caused by military or commercial explosives, that is.”

  “So, we can rule out accidental?” she interjected.

  “I’d say so. This was something weird. It flattened a large part of the most important buildings on the base. So far, the body count is three-hundred and fifty, with scores more injured.

  “But here’s the thing. It fried every electronic device within a two-mile radius.”

  “EMP, electromagnetic pulse?”

  “Likely. But of unknown origin. That’s up to you and your team to determine. Investigators already on scene report they can’t get much that’s useful out of the survivors. They all say they saw a bright, blue-white light—one blinding flash.

  “Some are describing it as alien, as in extraterrestrial, except it didn’t come from the sky—it originated from the ground level upwards. Then the explosion and the noise when the buildings collapsed. And then people started screaming.”

  Kelly listened without interruption, though she jerked in surprise and snorted when her very practical boss said “extraterrestrial.” She expected to hear more, so when he stopped, she didn’t immediately answer. After several seconds, he asked if she was still on the line.

  “Oh, yes, I am. Did you say extraterrestrial?” She fought to keep the skepticism out of her voice and failed to keep it low. Some of her nearby team members looked up in surprise. She shook her head at them.

  “Just an expression, Kelly. That’s what the eyewitnesses are saying.”

  “Should be an interesting assignment,” she said dryly. “Hopefully not in the Chinese sense of the word.”

  He chuckled. “Let’s hope not”

  “We’ll do our best, Terry.”

  “You’re the best there is, Kelly. I have full confidence you’ll have the answer in record time. I’ll keep you posted. On site, everyone has orders to report to you. You’ll keep me informed.”

  “Of course, I will.”

  With that, Ham broke the connection, and Kelly was left to explain what she’d learned to the others.

  Chapter 5 - Ruminating in a spa

  January 11, Mykonos Island, Greece

  Mackenzie was relaxing with her mother in a luxury spa attached to the hotel where they were staying on the idyllic Mykonos Island in Greece. It was one of several stops on their leisurely European tour. The men had taken the children on an excursion, but Mackenzie had pleaded exhaustion, and like the devoted husband he was, Carter had arranged the mother-daughter day, complete with spa, massage, manicure, and all.

  So much had happened since she and Carter had returned from their first Alboran expedition. The translation of the plates of the Codex they’d retrieved on that expedition were the highest priority, followed closely by the debriefings they were subjected to, which delayed their return to Freydís.

  At first, Carter had been required to travel to DC far more often than he wanted—often weekly or even more. Tired of the constant disruptions to the translation work and family life, he arranged to go just once a month, for five days at a time.

  He was also required to travel to the Alboran site on a regular basis, where a properly equipped and staffed research ship was located, with a Navy destroyer patrolling nearby.

  Mackenzie wanted to accompany him on the Alboran site trips, to visit with her beloved dolphins and introduce her children to the fascinating creatures. It was also convenient for them to take short breaks in Europe, traveling to Switzerland, France, Italy—everywhere they could enjoy the rich European history and educate the children. Mackenzie hadn’t seen much of Europe previously, and Carter loved to show her his favorite cultural sights.

  They both liked to visit the Alboran site, but it was an arduous journey every time, requiring they get to a major city, either Quebec City or Montreal, or an international airport in the US. From there, they’d take a commercial or military flight to Spain or Casablanca, and then to the site by boat or ship.

  After the third trip in as many months to the Alboran site, Carter determined there must be a better way.

  His answer was a Dassault Falcon 7X, which set him back a cool $50 million. But what was the use of having money if he couldn’t spend it to make their lives easier?

  Mackenzie and Carter loved the jet. It was large enough, roomy enough, fast enough, and luxurious enough to make the transatlantic crossings in comfort. Flying from Freydís to Casablanca now took less than six hours. Freydís to DC was now a little over an hour.

  The 7X had a lower than average landing speed, which Carter explained meant they could land at hundreds of airports where the conditions wouldn’t allow landings for other aircraft in its class. Best of all, with seating for up to sixteen passengers, it could accommodate the entire family and several friends if they wanted. She had to agree with Carter’s philosophy about his inheritance.

  Of course, having to use a hired pilot cramped Carter’s style and had the potential to compromise urgent or secret missions. He soon corrected that issue by upgrading his pilot’s license to get rated on his beloved 7X.

  Mackenzie’s thoughts turned to the library which they had retrieved from the Alboran site. It had taken weeks to scan the plates, now known as the A-Codex to differentiate them from the Egyptian plates, similarly termed the E-Codex. More translators had to be vetted and hired.

  Samantha, the CIA computer expert, had been permanently co-opted to them at her own request. Rick’s loss was a serious blow, not only to the project but to his friends. They all missed him—Samantha most of all.

  At some stage during Mackenzie’s reverie, her thoughts also turned to her respirocyte research project. She and Liu had made a significant breakthrough a few months before Carter’s search for the ancient nukes took center stage. Her research had to take a backseat, but now she and Liu could get back into it.

  James and Irene, who had hired her specifically to find useful medical technologies used
in ancient times, encouraged and supported her to get her project going again. To this end, Sam updated the translation algorithms and AI to extract respirocyte specific information from both codices.

  The DARPA scientists, Dr. Cate Nelson and Dr. Scott Watson, whom she had met shortly after she had joined A-Echelon a few years ago, had also been enquiring about her progress. They were quite excited when she gave them an update a few months ago and were hinting at the possibilities of a joint project.

  She and Carter agreed, now that their lives had returned to normal again, to allocate some of Liu’s time to her project when they were back on Freydís. She was looking forward to it.

  She couldn’t help but ponder her and Carter’s concerns about the growing number of people who had access to the Codices. Sean, Dylan, James, and Irene agreed, even though most of those who had access only had limited access pertaining to their area of specialization and only after proper vetting.

  Leading scientists, including some from friendly countries, had been given access to the preapproved sections covering engineering, medicine, electronics, nuclear physics, quantum mechanics, astrophysics, anthropology, archaeology, and more.

  Naturally, the National Security Council were also informed and were, in fact, the final point of approval for anyone who wanted access.

  Even though all possible precautions had been taken to avoid leaks, it was impossible to control every word out of everyone’s mouths. There were also the peripheral people—assistants, spouses, and potentially even sleeper agents to consider.

  They all knew the aphorisms about secrets—to keep your own secrets is wisdom; but to expect others to keep them is folly. And three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.

  No wonder she was exhausted.