Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection Page 39
I kept the large topographical chart folded in quarters for convenience and ran my finger over it. None of the places looked familiar on this section. The names were all wrong. I tried to sound out a couple, but I couldn’t to my satisfaction. Then, Sunny pointed to a hand-drawn circle near the middle of the map and the hand-printed words Gold Rush.
“There,” she said.
I searched near her finger, trying to find Summitview, but couldn’t, not even penciled in. Couldn’t find Denver, or Colorado Springs, or Estes Park.
“What the hell’s going on?” I asked glaring at the map. “This isn’t Colorado!”
Sunny gazed at me, dumbfounded. “Oh, Danny, I’m sorry. I took for granted you knew by now.”
The sound of the helicopter drawing near uplifted my heart. The chopper’s rotor kicked up dust once again as I found on the map a machine-printed name that looked, sounded familiar. I’d heard it somewhere, but never associated with Colorado. I read it aloud, “Qinghai Province.”
I thought of the POWs, Dr. Yumi and the Falon Gong, and the Flanker fighter jets.
Sunny was smiling at something downhill, and I turned to find out what it was. Through the dust, a man emerged wearing a flight helmet and a big smile. It was Jax. An image formed quickly in my mind. This one wasn’t framed by some sort of viewing screen, and I immediately realized it was a scrap of actual memory. I remembered this same smiling face without the helmet, Jax wearing a tux, handing me a ring, huge flowers all around. I recalled taking the ring and turning to the woman to my left — Sunny, smiling big, sublimely warm eyes. I remembered the feeling inside my chest — how I compared it then to the first time I stepped from a jet at 20,000 feet for a HALO parachute jump. The memory made me smile.
I looked down at the map and unfolded it completely.
A word was printed at the top in large letters.
CHINA.
Chapter 41
My mind numbed.
When Jax stepped up, he said, “Looks like we lost most of your records of proof.”
I scanned about us, and in the slowly clearing air, I saw the broken cargo net draped halfway over a small twisted pine tree. A few sheets of paper were stuck to it, and some danced in the dust around us. Several busted video cassettes lay scattered at the base of the tree along with empty cardboard file boxes. Two of Jax’s men were picking up what they could quickly gather.
I pointed to my temple. “It’s all up here.”
Sunny, pulled her scarf down and said to Jax, her face beaming, “It’s him, Jax, Dan!”
He returned her smile, and his eyes met mine. “I know. Known it since Sarge greeted him at the chopper, and then he started telling me what had to be done.” He chuckled as did I.
Two more flights of four jet fighters streaked in overhead, as Jax and Sampson helped Sunny, Sarge and me to the helicopter.
Sunny and I looked at Jax questioningly. He relieved us both when he said, “They’re ours. F/A-18 Super Hornets from the Abraham Lincoln in the Bay of Bengal. They’re going to escort us out.”
Several explosions came from the distance, and again I looked at Jax for an answer to my unspoken question.
“Cruise missiles armed with electromagnetic charges. They’re making sure we did a good job of knocking out all the radar on the way in. We’re pretty popular now. Got lots of friends in high places. President Mason is on our side. We’ve an AWACs monitoring our egress, a C-130 Black Talon meeting us halfway and flying point to the border, and there’s a KC-135 on standby to refuel us when we cross.”
“But China, Jax. They’ve got lots of defenses — and offenses. How can we possibly make it through? We’re liable to start war.”
“Just be concerned with getting out of here, now. Let the big boys worry about the war business. The Navy’s been sending in all kinds of decoys — unmanned drones with big radar signatures. They’ve been hammering the Chinese communications and defensive radar network with EM charges on cruise missiles for the past ten minutes. We’re hoping we can keep them confused long enough to slip away.”
It wasn’t a minute later, and we were sitting in the side doorway of Jax’s crowded whirlybird. Sunny clung to me. Her head pressed to my chest as we lifted off. Dust was everywhere, pine needles in the air. We squinted to protect our eyes. Bitter smoke saturated the sky.
Sunny raised her face to my ear and said over the roar of the engines, “We have a daughter, Lilly. You call her Lill.”
I turned to her, but had no words to answer. A daughter, not a son. Lill, not Will. I had felt a paternal void in my chest since discovering I had no son. The cavity suddenly filled with a warmth and brightness I could not describe. I pulled down my makeshift dust scarf and smiled. Sunny did the same, and our noses touched. We kissed.
* * *
As she rests her head back on my shoulder, my vision blurs.
The motion of the world around me speeds up, and I know I’m entering my subconsciously evoked remote-viewing mode again. My viewpoint leaves the helicopter and races, hugging the treetops, at what feels like gravity-escape velocity. The trees and landscape blur and the sun that has just risen sets and rises again. News reports flash before me like paper in the wind.
In my mind, I reach out and grab one, and it says:
September 27
War with China Narrowly Averted —
Temporarily
Washington (AP) — President Mason announced today that a daring rescue was made deep in the heart of communist China, confirming rumors and conjecture circulating over the past twenty-four hours. He made strong accusations against the Chinese government and rebutted that country’s allegations that the U.S., in support of the Falon Gong movement to overthrow the Communist regime, had “penetrated China’s sovereign airspace to commit acts of war by attacking radar positions, shooting down aircraft and killing thousands of Chinese citizens . . . .”
The report tears away from my hands, and I immediately grab another.
September 28
American Commandos Return After Daring Rescue
Bangkok (UPI) — U.S. special forces troops returned here to Korat Royal Thailand Air Force Base from a military rescue mission deep inside China only two days ago, according to a U.S. Air Force spokesman today. Accompanying them were two jumbo passenger jets packed with over four thousand hostages previously held by the Chinese. Coordinating the mission was former U.S. Marine Force Recon Gunnery Sergeant Bernard Sampson, who is now an executive with Thai Air Travel . . . .
I found the next news leader interesting and I realized how a people’s leadership can distort the truth to their own liking.
China Tests Defensive Non-Nuclear Weapon
Beijing (CNA) — President Sun Yung Jung of The People’s Republic of China announced today the testing of two experimental, non-nuclear, fuel-air bombs as part of this country’s strategic defense system. This report puts to rest the United States’ unfounded claims that nuclear devices had been used to cover up some kind of paranormal training camp . . . .
September 29
Most Members of Rescue Team from Local Base
Hurlburt Field, Florida — Air Force Special Operations Command (ASFOC) based here in the Florida panhandle confirmed today that the majority of the rescue team that played an important role in returning with over four thousand hostages were stationed at Hurlburt . . . .
Chinese Psychic Assassination Cell Discovered in Capitol
Washington (AP) — Hundreds of FBI and DC police raided the Biotronics apartments in Silver Spring early this morning after evidence of the harboring of illegal aliens with counterfeit passports and fake IDs was uncovered due to the daring raid into China three days ago . . . .
Missing McMaster Research Executive Rescued in China
San Bernardino (AP) — Daniel McMaster, founder and president of a locally based nonlethal weapons research company, McMaster Nonlethal Solutions, was one of several hundred American hostages rescued from China. According to some reports, much of the nonlethal
weaponry used in the mission was developed by McMaster’s company including acoustic cannons, radar jamming units and electromagnetic pulse devices that helped knock out critical radar and sensitive detection systems, which are a part of China’s defense and early detection network . . . .
Colorado Ghost Town Model For Chinese Psychic Warrior Training Camp
Denver (AP) — Reports now surfacing indicate the Chinese prison camp, which had become home to thousands of hostages over a period of more than three decades, was modeled after the small Colorado ghost town of Gold Rush . . . .
Local Man Heroic Leader of Rescue Operation
Honolulu (AP) — Major Lionel Jackson, the son of a local pineapple grower, has been confirmed to have lead the daring and successful rescue of thousands of imprisoned people, many of them American citizens or born thereof . . . .
Psychic Assassins Unleashed on the World
London (UPI) — China’s incredible plot to kill political and military leaders of the Free World through the use of Psychic Warriors, was only the beginning, according to . . . .
World Outraged Over Chinese Plot
New York (UPI) — The United Nations today approved a statement condemning the Chinese government for its role in the shocking plot to send out psychic assassins to murder key world leaders in order to gain world domination . . . .
I wasn’t surprised to find the Chinese’s propaganda machine again distorting the truth in the next headline.
October 8
U.S. Lies to World
Beijing (CNA) — Our honorable Chairman Yin expressed outrage today over the feeble attempt made by American military to conduct a raid and assist members of the outlawed Falon Gong movement. American claims of rescuing hostages held by the People’s Republic of China are untrue. Chairman Yin confirmed that on September 18 American aircraft, led by their latest technology fighter planes, entered our sovereign airspace, but were turned away easily. In the brief but decisive encounter, eleven of the American warplanes were shot down without a single loss of the Peoples . . . .
After this last paper, the press reports quit coming, until, from some distance, what looks like another newspaper spins toward me. The thing approaches, twirling faster and faster, until it finally slaps into my face. I peel it off in the gusty air stream. It’s the front page of the New York Times dated three weeks from today, it says:
October 18
CHINA DECLARES WAR!
The newspaper rips from my hands immediately and disappears. I am floating from a vantage point several thousand feet above the ground. Missiles launch from below. ICBMs. Multiple warhead, ten and twenty-megaton hydrogen bombs are aloft. These weapons are not merely city killers — their blast radius’ alone could be up to a hundred miles. I pray this view is of some sort of movie again — a Cold-War-era film about nuclear war with the Soviets, Dr. Strangelove perhaps — but I know better.
The rockets swoosh by close enough for me to see the Chinese flags on their nosecones. Then from above the horizon to the north come more missiles, these are heading in, just reentering the atmosphere. The newcomers proudly display American Flags.
In the incredible conflagrations that follow, the ground quakes and the air itself shudders in a hellish ferment. The Earth’s mantle blazes.
Time passes quickly, and from my viewpoint I scan over the scorched ground and the charred remains of cities — Beijing, LA, Chicago, New York, Washington DC. I follow a huge yellow cloud glowing in a nuclear midnight as it engulfs the cities of London, Madrid, Paris, Berlin, Moscow and Tokyo.
* * *
My view altered abruptly, like the changing of television channels, and I felt Sunny shaking my arm. I was back in the present, inside the chopper. Sunny gazed at me, worry filling her face.
“Are you okay, Dan?” she yelled over the noisy helicopter. She smiled, hopefully.
My eyes were moist with emotion. I didn’t smile back, knowing the world faced nuclear devastation in three weeks, and I realized what must be done to stop it, what I must tell the President. We clung to each other.
The rest of the flight to the Thailand border was for the most part uneventful as we hugged the treetops all the way. The electromagnetic pulse devices Jax’s team used to slip into China had fried all the electronics in their path — every radar, missile guidance system and toaster. The few SAMs that popped up spiraled away from lack of guidance or fell short because of the distance from which they were launched.
At the Thai border, our fighter escort had a confrontation, and we lost one of the Super Hornets and its brave young pilot as three Flankers were downed. Everyone else made it out okay.
Gunny Sampson’s Thai wife met us at the airport gate. A beautiful woman with long black hair, her smile was warm and genuine. She wore a rich, floral-ceremonial kimono, and she kept her hands to her back. I reached out to greet her with a handshake, thinking that although I couldn’t remember this woman, we’d been good friends in the past, and she would be used to this Western custom. Instead of only her hand, she pulled from behind her a little blonde friend wearing a kimono matching hers. I knew in my heart immediately it was my daughter Lilly.
Epilogue
It is early evening of the eighteenth of October. I’ve been trying to get used to being Daniel McMaster after leaving Robert Weller in China three weeks ago. I’m sitting with Sunny and my daughter Lill on a sofa in the cabin of our new sailing yacht that I have christened The Chairman. It’s evening, and the porthole shades are drawn. Sarge sits on a rug in front of us and a Chinese/American dictionary is laying open on the nearby lamp stand. We’re anchored in a small northern California cove, and the only light inside our comfortable sailboat is from the television set before us. We’re watching CNN Headline News.
With my arms around my girls, I’m content but not satisfied. Memories of my past life haven’t been restored. I get flashes of the real thing but never much more than a few seconds worth. I’ve been able to remote view and revisit some of the events from my past. However, I see those times as a spectator, never as a player, and I’m sure the emotions aren’t the same.
I consider my friends from the Chinese’s Gold Rush. Rajiv has been given back his old position as chief neurosurgeon at the Mayo Clinic in Chicago. Chief Dailey and his Chinese wife and children have been given new identifications. He’s been promoted to the rank of Sergeant Major, time-in-grade so to speak, and is working in a top-secret department at the Pentagon. Mr. Banks and his family are cooperating with the gag request from the Executive Office and have new identities and homes in the DC area, also. It was a big surprise to find out his son was the U.S. Secretary of Defense — his American wife had passed away years ago. I was privileged to witness the son and father’s private and tearful reunion. Secretary Banks seemed overwhelmed but ecstatic about suddenly having a step mother, half-sister and niece — and of course, about his father being alive.
But most of the remaining 4,000 citizens of the Chinese town of Gold Rush are living at a secret and remote U.S. facility in Thailand. They’re slowly being reprogrammed and repatriated. It could be as many as three years before they’re able to be repatriated into the U.S. and their other home countries.
As for us, becoming reacquainted with who I am will have to be postponed because of a phone call fifteen minutes ago. I’ve yet to tell Sunny or Lill. The caller was Jax. He said it wasn’t over. According to evidence found in the few records we’d brought back from China, there are as many as fourteen psychic assassins and their handlers — sleeper cells — already in place in the U.S. and around the world. We will start “somehow rounding them up” first thing tomorrow.
On the TV, the anchorwoman summarizes the President’s afternoon press conference, and how, amazingly, the relations between China and the Free World — especially the U.S. — have improved greatly. China has inexplicably warmed up to the West, has shown a willingness to agree with disarmament treaties and make concessions on human rights. Some speculate the President has some
sort of secret bargaining chip he’s using to sway them toward Western ideology.
I think of my implanted enhancement device and wonder if it still works after being subjected to the powerful electromagnetic pulses from the two 20-kiloton nuclear bombs. I hope I’m never tested, that I never have to find out.
A Dentisol toothpaste commercial comes on saying, “Nothing is fresher than a Dentisol fresh mouth,” and I smile.
* * *
It is early morning on the other side of the world. In a luxurious bedroom in Beijing, the Chairman of the Chinese Communist Party sleeps fitfully. His wife is slumbering peacefully beside him.
Chairman Yin has complained to his physicians of bouts with insomnia, severe headaches and chest pressure. None of the prescribed medications, natural healing herbs, or even acupuncture has helped.
Now he is dreaming, his eyes racing from side to side in REM sleep. In his dreams comes a mild voice. It speaks in Chinese like a whisper in the dark. I’m watching you — I’m always watching you!
The Chairman sits up abruptly, startled awake, wide-eyed and panting, beads of perspiration on his face.
For the fifth night in a row, a grinning face appears following the Chairman’s nightmares — Daniel McMaster’s face. The image laughs.
On this same morning before sunrise, bodyguards find Chinese Premier Sin Jou hiding in his closet. The only thing they can make out from the Premier’s irrational babblings is that he is sure his mansion is haunted.
Across town, President Sun Yung Jung has decided to take up residence with the forty-eight man security detail assigned to him. He seems to have become hooked on amphetamines, only napping occasionally in the middle of the barracks with never less than twenty-four members of his special security unit standing guard around him.