Dragon Over Washington (The Third War Of The Bir Nibaru Gods) (10 page)

The witch watched as the demon’s eyes vanished, drowning into the swirling fumes of sulfur. The cloud of brimstone narrowed, turning into a stream of smoke that poured across the deck, fell off the ship and, having formed two nebulous wings of yellow smoke, headed outward. Behind it, the demon left a long scorch mark on the ship’s deck, the thick planks blackened and singed at the touch of the scalding brimstone fumes.

The silence engulfing the ship seemed to increase at the demon’s departure. The gentle winds stopped playing about, their whispers gone. Even the small waves of the luminous Skyriver waters subsided, afraid to splash and make a noise.

The black-robed witch, preoccupied, returned to its cabin, and not even pausing to torment the captain. It took off the black robe, revealing a soft, silk under-tunic beneath. It did not remove his gloves, nor its mask. Everything the witch possessed was black.

It took out a heavy, iron-bound tome from inside his robes and placed it on the single small table in the cabin. The cabin had belonged to the captain before the witch took it over, and there were very few comforts inside. The witch did not care.

The witch searched through the tome, flipping through pages with diagrams and symbols, pages that were charged with energy, pages with drawings that changed constantly, thrumming with power. Finally, it stopped and looked at a drawing on a page, a drawing, unfortunately that did not change. It was of an ancient ziggurat. A host of ant-like beings were crawling all over it, the workers that toiled to lift the huge stones that served as the structure’s building blocks.

“It is similar, yet not identical. But few spheres ever had the inclination to build Veil Nodes this large, including the fabled Eretz. Could this be it? Eretz? After all these years? Found by the bumbling nobles of the Empire?” The metallic voice rang hollowly inside the wooden cabin.

The black figure suddenly twitched, tensing, half rising in its chair. Slowly, it relaxed, finally sinking back into the chair. The witch looked at the inscription at the bottom of the page and read it out loud.

“ ‘
Thus, the wizards grew in power, joining forces to forge conjurations of might. They gathered whatever power was available, making the Nodes to contain and direct their efforts.

The machinations of the wizards did not go unnoticed, with Eretz’s mortals gathering to help them, fueled by the promise of protection the wizards offered, protection against the ravages of the Wars of Bir Nibaru.

The mortals could not understand the wizards’ work, but the wizards instructed them in their toils. Kernel Conjurations, formulas designed to control that which is above and that which is below, governed the powers in the structures. Wizards, witches and all manner of wielders of power worked together, knowing that to draw attention to their work would doom them all.

Conjurations of misdirection were raised, formulas of invisibility were activated—all trying to mask that which the wizards wanted to hide.

However, the Bir Nibaru Gods learnt of the works of men, mortal and deathless alike. The Gods could not permit such a threat to their power to exist. The Gods began to marshal their armies.’
”

Day 9 after Earth Barrier Breach.

Fort Meade, Maryland, United States. Tuesday, 10:24.

Thorpe leaned back, rubbed his hands and grinned. Most of the paperwork and memos from his table had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor, making room for a large, steaming pizza, a cold Diet Coke and two gleaming red apples. His smartphone played Iron Maiden songs. The plastic dinosaurs were arranged in combat formation.

Thorpe glanced one last time at his table and then turned his eyes to the large map on the wall of his cubicle. He scowled. “The game is on! All is fair in the Internet, in love and in games! Today, the greatest surveillance instrument known to man is going to be unleashed.” Thorpe’s grin returned.

He unlocked his workstation and opened the network tree. He was about to click on the NRO-interface computer, but he paused, thought for a moment and then sighed. “Okay, let it be said that I tried doing the right thing. If the procedure has five steps or less, I’ll do it.” Thorpe picked up his phone and dialed.

“Molly? It’s your favorite secret agent here. How are you?” Thorpe said cheerfully. He listened for a moment. “Listen, Molly, I wanted to ask you a quick question. Out of pure curiosity,” he said. A pause. “Honest, Molly, only curiosity.” He waited and then rolled his eyes.

“Molly, how would I order KH11 target imagery?” He asked, listened and drummed his fingers on his desk. “Yeah, I know we’ve been through it a thousand times already. One more? For me? Pretty please?” Thorpe crossed his fingers. After a moment he smiled. “Sure, I’m writing this down. Okay, I need to fill out a recon target order form, get my superior to sign it, coordinate with the NRO liaison, fill a detailed pass plan, and get target authorization.” Thorpe looked at the five fingers he was holding up.

“Are you sure? That’s it?” He asked hopelessly. His face brightened an instant later. “Of course! I also have to fill out the surveillance allocation form and put my name on the roster. Thanks a lot, Molly, you’ve been a great help.” He was about to hang up but stopped. “Molly, I’m deeply offended. What makes you think I’m up to something? I merely wished to refresh my knowledge of NSA procedures. I think procedure is very important!” The green tyrannosaur was now leering openly. “Yeah, I know you‘re watching me closely. Bye, Molly.” He hung up the phone and shared grins with the tyrannosaur.

Thorpe rolled his chair to the entrance of his cubicle and peeked carefully up and down the long row of cubicles lining the corridor. Everybody was working diligently, and most importantly, nobody was walking towards him. Thorpe returned to his workstation and clicked on the NRO-interface computer and entered Dmitry’s password. The folder tree on the computer opened up for him. Thorpe smiled.

He took a slice of pizza, opened the Coke can and glanced one last time behind him. All clear. He brought up the Satellite Control System. A small login screen appeared, and Thorpe entered Dmitry’s password again. It took several moments for the application to start. A progress bar advanced slowly while the caption announced “Connecting to NRO KH11 Controller.”

Thorpe grinned and took a bite from his pizza, taking care not to eat the slice of tomato that was always included, even though he always ordered pizzas without the red, annoyingly squishy things.

The application finally finished loading and the round NRO logo, a blue ribbon surrounding the earth, appeared. Thorpe pressed the KH11 status button and a constantly updated image of the earth appeared. Three small icons representing satellites were moving above it, a box near every icon. Thorpe studied one of them.

“KH1 IB-4. Orbit: 407 x 803 km, 97.9% inclination. Thermal camera operational capability: 95%. Visible camera operational capability: 84%. Power reserve: 1047 watts. Maneuvering propellant: 4.568 tons. Milstar current link-DFS2.” Thorpe looked at the buttons at the top of the program’s slick display screens.

“Well, that’s very interesting, but it’s not what I want to know.” Thorpe pressed a button. “”A small window popped up. “Now, that’s more like it.”

Thorpe entered the target coordinates for White River National Forest from his notes. The image of the globe revolved around itself and the target appeared, outlined by a small, red circle. He moved his mouse to the target area and clicked. A large window popped up, containing a vector graphic display representation of the area around the forest and its mountains. Thorpe looked at it for a moment and then opened his GOES satellite image that he saved yesterday, looking at the strange mountain range glowing red in the infrared image. Thorpe thought, his fingers rubbing his cheeks. It had been several days since his last shave.

“It’s too large. That’s a twenty-mile-square area to look in. What am I looking for anyway?” Thorpe looked outside. There was a small window above his desk, a window he usually kept closed to keep out the sun. He got out of his chair and opened the window, sat down and noticed there was no pizza slice in his hand.

“Well, since I don’t know what to look for, I might as well try to get a few thermal images of the area. Maybe some vehicles will have been caught on the images, or an underground plant. Or something.” Thorpe returned to the target window.

There were several icons on the side of the target window. Thorpe selected the one for low-resolution thermal image and dragged it inside the target area, creating a square representing two miles per side that was centered on his cursor. Thorpe dragged it till it covered the southeastern side of the forest. He added a few more squares, most of them around the center of the forest.

“Ten images should catch something - if there’s something to be caught, that is.” Thorpe pushed a button on the bottom of the target screen: another window popped up, showing the globe with three ellipsoid ground tracks on it. These were the swaths on the earth that the three satellites saw while orbiting above it. One satellite’s swath, KH1 IB-5, engulfed the red target circle that Thorpe had placed over the Colorado Mountains. Thorpe pressed the swath and another window popped up with a list of dates and assignments.

“Well, that satellite is going to take images in the Middle East. No surprise there. I can plant my targets and hopefully nobody will know.” Thorpe acknowledged the targets.

He knew that the reconnaissance satellites were placed in a low orbit above the earth, completing fourteen complete revolutions every day. However, this meant that there was a very small window of opportunity for a satellite to take pictures of a certain location, since the earth’s own movement made the satellite’s targets move quickly out of its ground swath. So Thorpe checked that the targets he had planned were inside the satellite’s swath and that they could be taken in the five-to-ten-minute window of opportunity the satellite had. The program then checked to see that the Thorpe’s targets would not interfere with other plans.

Thorpe smiled as a message appeared: ‘“Plan approved. Press the Okay button to upload the plan”.’ His finger shook slightly as it approached the enter button. He took a deep breath and pressed it. The caption in the message box changed.

‘“Uploading plans”.’ Thorpe sat back, wiped his brow and took a deep gulp from his Coke while the Satellite Control System was sending the Thorpe’s targets to the NRO computer, which was, in turn, communicating with a Milstar ground station. The Milstar communications satellite network was transmitting the data to the KH1 IB reconnaissance satellite even while it was orbiting the other side of the globe. Thorpe smiled grimly as the message changed again. ‘“Plan successfully uploaded”.’

Thorpe leaned back and breathed deeply. He glanced once more behind him. All clear.

“Well, I better hope I find something. If The Man finds me, my fate will be –" Thorpe shuddered, then looked at the image of the mountain, glowing with unnatural heat. “But I won’t be beat!” he yelled. He paused. “I won’t be -” he yelled again, but was interrupted.

“Shut up over there!” somebody yelled and Thorpe smiled. He glanced at his smartphone, checking to see if there were any interesting emails or updates on his social networking site. Nothing.

He got up and left the cubicle. He returned a moment later and locked the workstation, hiding the Satellite Control System windows.

“Molly! My dear Molly! How are you? I missed you!” Thorpe went to the Special Operations Division Director’s office. The director’s secretary, a plump, middle-aged woman, eyed Thorpe suspiciously.

“What do you want?”

“Is that how you greet me? I’m hurt!” Thorpe held his hands over his heart.

“It won’t hurt for long if the director gets his hands on you,” Molly said vindictively. Thorpe stared in amazement.

“What? You said you’ll help me on this one!” Thorpe whined.

Molly leaned back in her chair, clicking her long nails on the table.

“Well, I might help,” Molly said. She examined one red-painted nail closely.

“Oh, come on! I’ll be good, I promise!” Thorpe leaned forward over her desk, but suddenly moved back. Molly moved forward, a predatory look in her eyes.

“What about Shannon?” she asked, making Thorpe blink.

“Ah. Well. You see, ah. Umm -” Thorpe stuttered. His face was becoming red, almost as red as his hair.

“I see. Well, it’s been nice knowing you,” Molly said, dismissing him and turning to her computer.

“Okay, what’s it going to cost me?” Thorpe mumbled.

“I’ve sent you her email. I expect results,” Molly said.

“Yes, Molly.” Thorpe eyes were cast down. Suddenly he looked up, eyes twinkling.

“Hey, that’s a nice blackboard,” Thorpe said innocently.

“Yeah, it’s a special order. You want me to order one for -” Molly asked and then she jumped up. “Come back here with my blackboard!”

                                                            ***

Thorpe hung his new blackboard on his cubicle’s wall, next to the large map. He thought a moment and drew a large circle on the top: ‘“Radio Blanket”.’ He drew four smaller circles beneath it, labeling one ‘“Colorado”.’ He labeled the second circle ‘Owego,’ and the third and fourth ‘Russia’ and ‘Libya.’ He leaned back and looked at the blackboard. He wrote under Russia ‘Battles with Russian army,’ ‘Not exercise‘ and ‘Evacuation of cities.’ Under Colorado he added ‘Mountain heating up.’

Thorpe checked several updated weather satellite images. The black cloud was still hanging over the town of Owego, apparently stationary for the last three days.

“This is stupid,” Thorpe murmured. He sighed and wrote under Owego ‘“Cloud traveling in straight lines from the ocean”.’ Thorpe also added ‘“Biological enemy”???’ under Russia, shaking his head.

He didn’t have anything to write under Libya.

“Hmm. I’ve got the most intel on Russia, and that’s from Andy. How humiliating. I’m not going to win the game like this. Let’s check on Libya.” Thorpe logged on to the Trailmapper computer and checked the Radio Blanket effects. Thorpe’s brows contracted. The Radio Blankets in Libya were continuing and intensifying, starting to affect even Tubruq, one hundred miles away from Al Jaghbub, and causing minor interferences to radios and cellular phones. He wrote “more Radio Blankets” under Libya.

Thorpe looked back and forth between the blackboard and the map.

“I don’t have enough information, any way I look at it. I’ve got to get more data and there’re still a few more hours to kill until the satellite’s orbit takes it over Colorado. Let's see if the Database has anything for me.”

The NSA routinely gathered a huge amount of information, picked up from listening posts, satellites and wiretaps. The main problem was not gathering the information but analyzing it. Out of a million conversations, only one might have any connection to a case the NSA was interested in. So, the NSA’s huge mainframes had only one goal in mind, data mining.

The information the NSA’s sensors gathered was digitized and transformed into computer-readable text that was indexed and carefully stored. The mainframes mined that data, looking for specific words and patterns in the huge store of information, trying to find that one conversation in a million that was important.

The NSA database was also connected to the database of the American police as part of the Homeland Security program. Today, the mainframes were able to cross-reference names and data from police and other government agencies with data that the NSA’s sensors picked up in order to prevent repetition of 9/11: when everything about the attackers was known, but every piece of information was held by a different agency.

All Thorpe cared about, however, was that he was able to access the police database, and search known-felon files and police reports. He had a query window opened, connected to the USA police database.

An obvious problem surfaced pretty quickly.

“Okay, what am I going to search for?” Thorpe looked at the blackboard, but it didn’t offer any answers. He got up and paced the corridor once.

“I could try ‘Colorado,’ but I don’t have any suspect as a query subject. I don’t even have a date for a report. Wait, that’s not true.” Thorpe opened the Trailmapper application again. He ran the sensor logs and found the time of occurrence of the Colorado Radio Blanket. He tried running a query, fetching all police reports from the Blanket’s date onward, but limiting them to Routt County in Colorado. He received several dozen reports. He saw bail skipping, parole violation, speed tickets, and an unsolved case of several farmers and cops being attacked by a wild animal.