Ancients

PART THREE ANCIENTS RISING 10

William Tomlinson sat in his ornate study with several of the key Coalition members. One fellow was an American named August Nelson, a former World Bank president who had been on the Coalition's payroll since 1969. He had funneled billions of American dollars and euros through the world's checks and balances in order to finance the immense payroll outlays for a private military the size of the Japanese defense force.

There were others of the Coalition inner workings who were key to the final plans being made, but it was the Englishwoman, Lilith Anderson, better known in the inner circle as Dame Lilith--which was a title actually bestowed by the queen herself--who brought the concluding stages of the Mediterranean operation to a resoundingly satisfactory finale.

"Dame Lilith." Tomlinson raised his glass of hundred-year-old whiskey. "Your Crete operation has gone off without a hitch. The way you have hidden our real intent on the island is astounding. I toast you, my dear, dear lady."

The magnificently dressed woman of fifty nodded her head and returned the gesture, smiling.

Tomlinson lowered his glass and looked at the eight-by-ten photos once again. "Unbelievably, there are entire sections of the dome still intact. I can even see columns inside it."

"As you can imagine, a great percentage of the dome didn't hold up to the tremendous forces that destroyed the island, but there are clear areas that were protected by the magma flows at the time of the island's demise. The old maps transcribed have shown us invaluable spaces that may hold some fascinating variables as far as possibly discovering the third Key--a nice backup just in case your operative, Dahlia, has any--misfortune in Hawaii. For instance, we believe the ruins of the large building, very hard to see in the initial photographs, may be what was described as the Empirium Chamber, the very seat of their government."

"Magnificent! And when do you think we'll get more than just a probe inside the dome?" Tomlinson asked, ignoring the slight about Dahlia's and her chances.

"We estimate sixteen hours, and we'll have people inside," answered Dame Lilith as she placed her drink on the table to her right. "But I must caution you that the initial testing of the air quality is disappointing. The environment is toxic to the extreme, but thanks to the tunnel opening we are starting to pump fresh air into the city."

"We expected as much. We could not very well expect part of an ancient city covered by magma and a trillion tons of rock and debris to be a Garden of Eden. How soon can we expect our equipment to be placed inside the magma chamber and city dome?"

"Our submersibles are inspecting the exposed section of the Crystal Dome as early as tomorrow. If they believe that exposed area will continue to withstand the pressure of the Mediterranean, we can start transporting the Wave equipment down the largest shaft on Crete in less than thirty hours."

"August, will we have added security in place by that time?" Tomlinson asked, sipping his drink.

"Yes, I believe so. Five hundred defensive troops on Crete itself, with another one hundred in the chambers below when the time comes; these of course will be our finest soldiers, the elite."

"Antinaval assets?"

"Already in place. If any navy or air force in the world starts poking around the area, they will have the surprise of their lives. They would be foolish, with our batteries of hidden SAM sites. I believe we are adequately covered until such time when we need not hide any longer."

"How exciting! Great moments started by great people, eh?" He raised his glass again.

After the toast was finished, Dame Lilith leaned forward in her chair. "William, I apologize for making light of Dahlia's abilities in the matter of recovering the map plate. I know it upset you. Its procurement is so very vital to our plans. Tell us, can she recover it?"

"Dahlia at this very moment is scouting the situation and should have a report forthwith."

"You have been right about everything thus far. We will never doubt your leadership. You have thought this out thoroughly and have earned the respect of all of us now inside the inner circle. Ours is the just way, the only way. The world needs us," Lilith said, and this time she raised her glass in tribute to Tomlinson.

They drank and relaxed, and Tomlinson held his audience captive with words.

"When the outside world learns of our plans, anyone outside of future history will think us some sort of James Bond bad guy, a mere cliche of evil. Little do they know this early on that we mean only good for our world. The changes in the way people live have been needed for more time than we will ever truly know. They are subservient to men and women who will drain them of even the minimal standards of a good life. While we will see to their every need, and give them the one thing governments cannot guarantee, a future. They just need to be led. They want to be led."

"Hear, hear!" they all said loudly as Tomlinson stood proudly.

"Here's to the man who will lead us all into our future, our destiny, William Tomlinson, to a brave new world!" Dame Lilith toasted.

"A brave new world!" They drank.

Later that evening, only four people sat in William Tomlinson's den. They were the true leaders.

"William, you have something to tell us?" Dame Lilith asked.

"We noticed you waited until the others left to pass on whatever it is on your mind," said August Nelson.

"We are moving operations to Crete much sooner than I said to the others. Once the Black Sea sound domes are in place, it will be the safest place to be when we strike at the heart of Russia. I have made a decision and I want your comments. I have planned a false strike at Russia. We will use Russia's paranoia against her. I am downing the Wave aircraft with all the equipment onboard."

"What would be the use of that?" Nelson asked.

"The livery colors of the aircraft will be changed to those of the U.S. Air Force. The blame will fall directly into the lap of the United States, and that will give us extra time to find the Ethiopian Key. I see no disadvantage in this action; it may even force the Russians' hand and make them move militarily in some other region, thinning America's military even further. Assets, I remind you, would be used against us. I must admit to you that I expected a harsher reaction from the new administration after the Roosevelt incident and the downing of those American and Japanese aircraft. Thus far, the president has been very restrained."

"Your changes have been timely thus far. Of course, whatever you think is necessary. We are still very much headed in the right direction and it will not take much more to make this new president take firmer action against those he sees as aggressors. This may be the straw, if we can get the Russians believing and retaliating."

Tomlinson nodded in thanks to Dame Lilith and August Nelson for seeing his plans clearly. He was about to stand and get a refill of whiskey when a light knock sounded on the door. Caretaker, just in from Europe, stepped in and closed the double doors lightly.

"Mr. Tomlinson, you have an important call from your asset in Hawaii, sir."

Tomlinson watched as Caretaker brought him the phone, then he nodded for the man to leave. He watched the older man slide his study doors open and then exit, ever careful not to divulge too much information to the man who could tip the balance of power in the Coalition with just a few words against him.

"Yes, Dahlia, we were just speaking of you. How is the operation proceeding?"

"We move in twelve hours, but that's not why I called you. I wanted to tell you personally that our attempt to kill the men responsible for Ethiopia and the raid in Westchester has failed."

"I see," Tomlinson said as he poured his drink.

"That is not all. We managed to follow the helicopter used in their escape and now they are under the protection by the same group of men at a secure location at Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada. William, it would be most difficult to get to the Ancients or Colonel Collins there."

Tomlinson looked around at the two people who were watching him closely. He smiled at them as if he were receiving good news. "Is that right?"

"You seem to be taking this matter extremely well, since these two Ancients are undoubtedly spilling a lot of information to that colonel and whoever it is he works for. Information, I may add, that could be very detrimental to your health. You must assume you have been compromised and leave your home immediately."

"You are sure of this?" he asked, losing his smile at the others.

"I won't sit here and debate the validity of my surveillance techniques with you. If you had paid me fully in advance, this conversation would have ended two minutes ago. As it is, you still owe me a considerable sum. In addition, I was not told about these mysterious men that seem to show up at the oddest times and are very, very good at what they do. Your intelligence in this matter was sorely lacking. Therefore, William, I suggest you leave before several nasty men from the FBI and some Virginia farmers show up at your door. I'll report when I have the plate."

Tomlinson blinked as the connection terminated. He hung up the phone and half smiled as he looked at his two Coalition colleagues and then around him at the ostentatious study. He knew he was going to leave everything behind that his family had worked for, for centuries, and he was angry.

"I'm afraid Dahlia has informed me that our old family members Carmichael and Martha have taken a trip to Nevada and are more than likely breaking their tradition of silence about their heritage. I must assume we are, or soon will be, compromised. We must leave immediately for Crete, as it has now become a sanctuary earlier than we thought it would have to be."

"We knew this day would come," Lilith said as she set down her drink and slowly stood. "I will miss the lifestyle and titles, I must admit."

"We can commiserate on the plane later. For now, we must evacuate." Tomlinson made for the study doors, then stopped as he placed his hands on the doorknobs. "August, leave a defensive team here and tell them nothing. I also want a large surprise waiting that will show the authorities they have a fight on their hands. I want the destruction of my own home and everything I possess to show my dedication and firm belief to our cause. Also, get Operation Boomerang launched immediately and order Professor Engvall to prepare for his move to Crete."

"I will order it," August Nelson answered, as he placed a reassuring hand on Tomlinson's shoulder. "And Professor Engvall is already safely in Crete, supervising the unloading of the Wave equipment."

With one last look at his American home, William Tomlinson left, knowing that he would not return until the Coalition was in control not only of the United States but the entire world.

The Boeing 777 weapons platform that had initiated the attacks in Iran/Iraq, Russia, Korea, and China had undergone a radical change during its layover in Jakarta. The Wave equipment remained inside and intact, and the outside of the aircraft had been repainted, from the livery colors of a commercial carrier to those of the United States Air Force. Every Russian fighter pilot in the world would recognize the blue-and-white paint scheme, and that was just what William Tomlinson and the Coalition wanted.

The pilot and copilot onboard had explicit instructions to turn on the Wave Decibel Transmitter remotely just as they crossed over Russian airspace. The system could do no harm because the frequencies had been changed in Jakarta to new, benign settings, and now an that would happen was that the Wave signal would be broadcast in the open--directly into the ears of Russian listening posts.

The airliner was equipped with military-style ejection seats in the cockpit; the pilots would eject when they made first contact with Russian air-superiority fighters. Within thirty minutes of ejection, a Coalition trawler would pull them from the rough sea. Dangerous, to be sure, but they each would receive a two-million-dollar bonus.

"We have company and are being painted," the copilot said in heavily accented Bulgarian from his position in the right seat.

"Roger, we have attempted contact and have had no reply to our instructions," said the leader of the flight of four MIG 31s.

"Can you identify the aircraft? According to commercial routes it should be an American Airlines flight out of Fairbanks, Alaska, over."

"Negative. We have visually identified aircraft as that of a U.S. Air Force 777 transport conversion, tail number 6759875. We will attempt--"

The Russian colonel yelped as the penetrating Wave signal burst through his headphones.

"This is Tango-Abel lead; we have picked up a strange audio tone emanating from the American aircraft, over!"

"Tango-Abel, lead, lock on to, and destroy target, immediately!"

"What? They may just be off course--"

"Flight leader, destroy the target. This command is from the highest authority!"

The MIG 31 slowed and took up station half a mile from the American 777. He ordered his wingman to lock on and fire. The Russian colonel heard a clear and long signal from his missiles' seeker heads as they both locked on to the large GE engines.

As soon as the Coalition pilot saw the incoming MIGs on his radar, he set the controls to automatic pilot and made ready for his ejection. He and the copilot wore cold-water survival gear and were equipped with a life raft.

"We are ready. Stand by to eject. Eject, eject, eject!" he shouted out as he pulled the ejection seat's yellow-and-black-striped release bar.

Nothing happened. He pulled again and still nothing. The copilot pulled the dual handle on his and had the same result. Both men started to panic, as they knew they were only seconds away from a fiery death. In their terror, neither that the men who had paid them so handsomely had betrayed them. The Coalition needed American-uniformed pilots to be discovered if any wreckage was ever found, but the men had never questioned the need for such an elaborate ruse as the uniforms.

The missiles flew off the rails. The first heat seeker struck the port engine mount just below the long, wide wing of the Boeing plane, while the other hit the engine itself. The next two, fired by the copilot, struck the remains of the already damaged wing and the giant plane rolled over in the sky and nose-dived two miles down into the sea.

The Russian pilot angrily pulled his face mask away. He was confused as to why the American pilot had not attempted to break away and try to avoid the missile attack.

It was as if he had wanted to die.

Niles sat on one of the ornate couches in the Oval Office and watched the president listen to his opposite number in China through an interpreter. His old friend was about to put the medicine into the mouth of the president of the People's Republic of China first, before feeding him the sugar. The Chinese ambassador to the UN Security Council, with Russian backing, had been claiming a horrible accident since early morning concerning the air-to-surface encounter with North Korea.

"The Korean assault on our task force was an overt act of war and the American people insist I respond in kind. Now, for me trying to keep the peace, the world press is crucifying me! Your ally's actions were wrong in the least and criminal at the most. Either you will get Kim to listen to reason or we can carry this madness to its obvious conclusion."

Niles watched as his oldest friend's knuckles grew white on the handset and he saw the jaw muscles working at a furious clip.

Now the sugar, Jim, offer the sugar, Niles thought.

"We have evidence of an outside entity being responsible for these quakes and it is being forwarded through official channels now. Official and not private, for the reason that I want it to leak out, because the world must know that we were not responsible for these quakes that your ally North Korea is blaming us for. If you do not heed the evidence we send to you, Mr. President, circumstances will force me to defend this nation's soldiers, seamen, and airmen as well as those of our allies, and I will do so with vigor. Do we understand each other clearly?"

The American president listened to the return tirade and then closed his eyes and visibly relaxed.

"Have your people study the names and evidence we have sent and then I will await your call. Until then I have ordered our military to set DEFCON Two for defensive reasons. No more American lives will be lost without us shooting back." Again he listened to the other end of the line. "Very well. I will await your decision."

The president slowly placed the phone into its cradle on the coffee table in front of him. The secretary of state, newly arrived from his address to the United Nations, where he had condemned the actions by Korea and the unhelpful silence of both the Russians and Chinese, awaited his new orders.

The president looked at his watch and then glanced at the director of the FBI, who sat off by himself in a small chair to the sofa's left.

"When will you round up this man in Chicago?"

"The HRT unit is in place as we speak. They should have break-in in exactly ten minutes," he answered as he looked at his wristwatch.

"Good. Mr. Secretary, you may proceed back to the UN and address the Security Council and lay out all the evidence that Dr. Compton has provided you. I understand his people are working on learning more background on the technology used and the people using it. I believe it's time to share what little we do have on this Coalition faction. Mr. Director, take that son of a bitch in Chicago alive if you can."

"Yes, sir, that is the plan."

The president felt in control for the first time in days. He nodded his thanks to all in the room.

"Gentlemen, with the exception of Dr. Compton, you are excused."

The secretary of state along with the directors of the FBI and the CIA stood and left the room, excited to be moving against the man who might have been responsible for the American lives that had been lost.

When the door closed, the president half slid down into the sofa. He rubbed his hands over his face and then looked at Niles. "This job really sucks, bookworm."

"You're the one who wanted it. By the way, thanks for giving Colonel Collins a blank check as far as Hawaii goes."

The president raised his chin once and then let it fall again to his chest. Then he half smiled.

"You may have saved our bacon, Niles. Tell your people ... tell them--"

"You can tell them when this thing is over, Mr. President. All they have done is what they've been doing for a hundred years."

"I just hope I can face them and others when this is over. As of right now, I'm responsible for getting a lot of American boys getting killed."

Niles leaned forward and looked at his friend. "That's not true." He looked at his watch. "The man responsible is just about to realize that it's he who's not the secret any longer."

The Hostage Rescue Team (HRT) of the FBI was in position. As Agent in Charge George Weston watched the thermal monitor from the large house across the street, he was confused as to what he was looking at.

"Walk-in freezer?" he asked the technician sitting at the bank of monitors.

"Probably; by far the largest one I've ever seen. Then again, look at the house--who has that much money?"

"Evidently this Bozo does. Anything changed in the last two minutes?"

"No. We still have three hot bodies in the room the house specs say is the den, and three in the kitchen."

The AIC was worried about the room that the thermal scan was picking up, shading it a solid blue on the monitor. The warm bodies were easy to discern, but if someone was in that cold room, his team would not know it until they broke in.

"Is there any movement at all from the warm bodies in the den and kitchen?"

"None."

The AIC raised his walkie-talkie. "Red One, are the sniffers picking up anything?" he asked. He watched the monitor that showed the green night-vision image of the HRT Red One unit, whose job it was to check for minute traces of explosive materials by using the "sniffer," a small portable computer that smelled the interior air that escapes around windowsills and doorways. They were able to get so close because, surprisingly, the arrogant Mr. Tomlinson had no security grid around the house.

"Negative. Clean, cool air only; no nitrates are indicated and no chemical trace other than household deodorant and disinfectant are evident," the field tech answered.

He made his decision even as his eyes moved to the cold spot in the house.

"Okay, advance technical units move away. Strike team, we're a go in two minutes, on my order and by the book."

He did not need a response from the HRT as he saw that they were moving into position. His eyes moved to the cold spot and he frowned. He then forced his eyes away and saw the window, door, and upstairs teams reach their IPs.

"Stand by ... Move, move, move!" he said into his radio.

As the command team watched from across the street, the first team used a ram to break through the thick double doors and then a flash-bang grenade flew inside, and then smoke canisters quickly followed. The flash and boom echoed loudly even from across the way as agents dressed in black charged through the door just as more smashed through the front and back windows. Up on the roof of the three-story house, a rappeling unit jumped from the expensively shingled roof and smashed through the upstairs windows.

Two full detachments of HRTs, one from Chicago and the other from Kansas City--a full twenty heavily armored and armed men--were inside the large residence in less than thirty seconds.

As he watched through the window, forsaking the monitors, Weston saw more flash-bang grenades go off. He was relieved when there was no initial gunfire coming from the large mansion. Maybe this traitorous bastard Tomlinson will go down without a fight, Weston thought.

"Down, down, down on the fucking floor," came the shouts over the open microphones of the assault element. "One, study is secure. Kitchen is secure; five men and one woman in custody."

"Is Tomlinson one of them?" he asked, looking at the monitor that showed the cold room on the thermal camera.

"One, Tomlinson is--"

Suddenly and without warning, the Tudor mansion disintegrated. The explosion was so powerful that the entire HRT assault element vanished in a microsecond. The explosion ripped through the mansion and blew outward toward the surrounding homes.

Weston was killed a split second after he saw the thermals on the cold room suddenly go red. The house they had borrowed for a command post blew apart and collapsed. The two houses in the back and two on the sides of the Tomlinson residence blew inward and started burning. All told, with the sacrificial lambs the Coalition had left inside the house along with the twenty assault members of two HRT units and fifteen other FBI agents and Chicago police officers, forty-one died in the explosion.

After Tomlinson and the other Coalition members had left the house on Lakeshore Drive, a Coalition courier had delivered a special package to the huge walk-in freezer in the kitchen. This package was protected behind freezing temperatures and a tight seal, so that nothing the FBI had in their bag of tricks could detect it. One hundred seventy-five-pound boxes of C-4 exploded with the flick of a switch twenty miles away at O'Hare International.

Tomlinson tossed the long-range remote to the steward and looked away. He reached for his drink as the Boeing 777 started its takeoff roll. As the large plane lifted off and started its turn north over the lake, everyone on-board was looking out the right-side windows of the aircraft. In the distance, they saw the small, brightly colored cloud rising above the rooftops of the very rich neighborhood they had recently left.

Dame Lilith was the first to turn away from the scene, and she looked at Tomlinson. He calmly took a sip of his drink, stretched out on the long leather couch of the richly appointed aircraft, and then looked over at her.

"How long until our teams can be in action in Ethiopia after we receive the plate map from Dahlia?" he asked as he placed his drink on the long table in front of the couch.

"Six hours," she answered.

"Good," he said as he smiled at Dame Lilith. "All in all, even with the loss of my home, it has not been an entirely unsatisfactory day."