MuTerra-kindle (2 page)

Professor David Eccles reached for his cell phone as he pulled into traffic for the five-hour ride home. His dented and well-traveled Subaru was still as reliable as the day he drove it off the lot. His wife refused to ride in the vehicle anymore in protest for his continuing to hold on to it, so he mostly drove it when going to class or on trips such as this one. He was leaving the Kitt Peak National Observatory following one of his semi-annual visits from Northern Arizona University. Unlike all previous occasions, this outing ended abruptly when a handful of men, all attired in professional, if not strikingly similar,  suits, escorted everyone out of the facility in a rather polite but firm manner, even though one of the senior staff members present was becoming quite infuriated over the prospect.

Professor Eccles was following up on an entry made a few months prior involving yet another discovered comet. He was thinking of incorporating this new find as a class project for the upcoming semester. When he first noticed the commotion outside his borrowed office, he determined that what was happening was not only quite irregular, but that his work would be affected. Before anyone could reach his office, he pressed the ‘send’ button on his computer so he could finish his work once he returned to the university.

"Hey honey, it looks like I get to do some of those things you put down on that list after all," Eccles said into his phone.

"What do you mean," his wife replied.

"We've been thrown out of the place."

"What are you talking about David?"

"I know, it sounds crazy right? There were a bunch of men, government types, all dressed up and serious, chasing everyone out of the building. It was like being in a movie or something," he said.

"Are you serious,” she asked.

"Yes honey. I'll explain it to you when I get home. I should be there around dinnertime."

"Okay."

"Do you think you could talk your mother into watching the kids tonight? If so, I‘ve got a few ideas on what we can do afterwards," he said playfully.

"I’ll bet you do.”

“Alright honey, I’ll see you in a while.”

—

Two hours after the intruders arrived, all electronic information in regards to Ignatio-17 was removed from data storage devices along with the few hard copies that had been made. None of the most current information had been found, only the initial reporting, which generated nominal interest evidenced by what was collected. The one loose end seemed to be with their weekend visitor.

As he walked up to the agent in charge, he looked into the soulless eyes of the man nicknamed ‘Nosferatu.’ Of course, this name was never spoken in range of his hearing, at least not by anyone who took his or her career seriously. “I think we have a small problem,” the agent said.

By way of a reply, the young man was given a raised eyebrow to indicate he was acknowledged, and should continue.

“Dr. Eccles, who we released earlier, was visiting from N.A.U. Agent Culver said he believes the doctor sent an email with attached material; most likely to his office, but he could also have an automatic forwarding system in place to other devices. Culver wasn’t able to delete it and remove it from the mailboxes because it had been ‘trashed’ and cleared. We’re not sure what it contained but it seems suspicious because he didn‘t remove any of his other emails,” he finished.

 Without a word, Special Agent in Charge Trent Gibbs reached into his jacket for his cell phone, scrolled down its electronic number listings, and pushed the send button when he found the one he was looking for. The call was answered on the second ring.

“Dr. Eccles, professor N.A.U.; retrieve all electronic mail, and determine if compromise exists. Take care of it,” was all that he said into the phone before hanging up.

―

For a man accustomed to hazardous duty infiltrating foreign governments, the university campus was not very challenging. Senior faculty members were not on campus to teach the few students who were. It took no more than fifteen minutes from the time he parked in the staff parking lot, until he returned from having cleared the email account in question, and further erasing the entire hard drive.

Now it was a time of waiting.
He had an unimpeded view of his target location and glanced at his watch one final time before exiting the vehicle. It had been two hours since the lights had gone out. The night was clear and calm, with only the occasional car passing by to break the silence. The neighborhood was motionless as he made his way, appreciating the invisibility that the nine to five suburb provided.

He walked to the rear of the two-story home, through the well-manicured lawn, and effortlessly gained entry through the locked door of the kitchen. He waited inside the door, looked, and listened. The only sounds present were those of battery-operated clocks ticking as each second passed by, and that of his own heartbeat. He saw no identifiable signs indicating the presence of a dog either outside or inside the house. The design of the house usually meant there were several bedrooms upstairs, with the possibility of a master suite downstairs. He was counting on finding what he was looking for in the latter.

As his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, he made his way through the home. After padding through the carpeted floors of a living area, he located what he believed was the master bedroom. He was not distracted by the novelties on the walls, or stands, that he passed, as general theft was not his purpose. The bedroom was obviously occupied by the Dr. and his wife. The light from the alarm clock provided enough illumination to see two figures lying in the bed. They were asleep, but neither was snoring and he kept this in mind in the event they were light sleepers. He continued through the hallway hoping to find what he was looking for, deciding not to risk any unnecessary noise by using the stairway unless it was unavoidable. He found the office two doors beyond their bedroom.

After he walked into the room, he moved the door until it was almost closed to contain any noise he made, while still being able to see any movement in the hallway. He reached into his jacket and placed the silenced pistol on the desktop quietly as he sat in the chair. He took care not to move the chair itself as experience had taught him that all office chairs make unpleasant and distinct noises. Before turning the computer on, he unplugged the speakers. It seemed quite loud to his senses, but he knew from experience that the noise generated from the internal fans would not be enough to attract any outside attention. While he waited for all the systems to come online, he reached into another pocket and came out with a flash drive. This he inserted into the USB port to allow him access to the overrides necessary to retrieve what he was looking for.

As the program began downloading, he did a cursory search through the desk drawers, and glanced on occasion at the doorway. Download complete, he now had control over the system. The only evidence of Ignatio-17 was on a forwarded email. It was unopened. He deleted this, and removed all traces of the downloaded program from the computer prior to shutting down.

As he stood up, he saw a man standing in the doorway looking straight at him. There was no look of fear on the man as could be seen by the ambient light available, but rather a look of mingled curiosity and anger.

Between the time he was able to utter the word “Wha…,” and his subsequent collapse to the ground, he was shot three times. The first round took him in the throat silencing any further speech. The second two were in his chest. The noise from his fall was too loud. He quickly walked past the dead man, went to the door of the bedroom, and saw the wife sitting in bed not fully awake. Two muffled shots later, she lay motionless on the bed.

It was not what he planned for, but it happened. He looked through the closets until he found a suitable bag. He then went through the jewelry boxes he found in their bedroom, and collected other valuable articles placing them in the bag. He worked quickly, but efficiently. This was not the first time he had to do this kind of thing, and the adrenaline rush he experienced now was short lived. He walked back to the office, disconnected the computer tower and placed it along with everything else he could fit into the bag.
It had to appear to be worth the trouble of killing.

When he was done, he arranged things to look like both a robbery, and an attempted breakup of the robbery. He locked the kitchen door on his way out, and pulled it closed behind him. Then he took a large pocketknife from his waistband and pried it between the door and its frame until he was able to defeat the lock. He left the door ajar as he returned unseen to the rented car carrying his bag full of items he would later dispose of.

―

From the
Arizona Daily Sun
:

Home Invasion & Robbery Leaves Two Dead

A robbery gone wrong has left two dead in a Southside residence Saturday evening. A North Arizona University faculty member and his wife were found dead Sunday evening when authorities were alerted by family members whose repeated phone calls had gone unanswered. Police are asking for anyone having information concerning this incident, to please contact the local police department. Your information can lead to a reward, and you may remain anonymous.

Reporting from
Radio 7.7 Tenerife San Crist0’bal de La Laguna, Spain
:

Sunday’s fatal traffic accident on the Autopista del Norte, just south of the Tenerife North Airport closed down traffic for more than an hour while emergency crews attended the scene. Authorities have not released the names of the two victims, although records have been obtained showing one of the vehicles was registered to a Miss (Dr.) Rosa Alves from 19 Calle de las Llaves, Tacoronte.

From the
Associated Press
:

Notorious Conspiracy News Blogger OD’s

The Internet lost one of its most famous conspiracy news pioneers this week to an apparent overdose of prescription pain medication, and over consumption of alcohol, police reports say. Victor James, owner and publisher of the web blog “What is Really Going On,” was found dead in his London flat Tuesday morning by his longtime girlfriend Alicia Newberry. Mr. James’ immediate family insists Victor did not drink, and they were unaware of his being on any type of pain medications. Miss Newberry affirmed these statements. Police have ruled the incident a suicide, and are planning no further investigations.

In related news, the website, “What is Really Going On,” was shut down yesterday after a legal injunction was administered by the English High Court. While it is rare indeed that the High Court would be involved in such action, Mr. James had been involved in an ongoing criminal investigation involving several foreign governments claiming security violations, espionage, and theft of government property. Attorneys for the prosecution asserted that all information contained on Mr. James’ blog were “embellished fabrications of fictional reports.”

―

Western United States

Tuesday 2 pm

The routine days were starting to become monotonous. The training was fine, but Captain Keith Bishop did not become a green beret just for the training. At the age of twenty-eight, Keith would normally be considered a rather imposing figure standing six foot three inches tall, while carrying his muscular two-hundred and fifteen pounds with ease, if it was not for his mild and friendly demeanor. This quality, however, did not affect his cool determination and accomplished skill, which earned him recognition for valor in all three of his previous deployments in both South America, and Southwest Asia.

Keith was what they referred to as an ‘operator.' He volunteered for any opportunity to go in the field, and opportunities came around more often than not lately. This was one reason why he was surprised by his new assignment to the 10
^th
Special Forces Group. He did not request the transfer, and it had come through six months before one was due.

His first two months with the 10
^th
SFG went smoothly. He knew a few of the men in the unit, and his commanding officer was one of the ‘good guys.’ Although he had put in for three separate missions, he was not selected for any of them. He had mixed thoughts about that.
On the one hand, other guys may have gotten the go ahead since they had been working together longer. On the other, he didn‘t know anyone as enthusiastic about an assignment as he was.
He decided he would bide his time and just keep putting in requests until something came up. If nothing else, it kept his wife happy with him being around more often.

He had only been in the house five minutes when the phone rang, “Captain Bishop,” he answered on the second ring.

“Son,” an older yet refined voice stated.

“Yeah dad, what’s up?”

After a short hesitation as if gathering his thoughts he said, “I’d like you and Terri to come by and have lunch with me. I’ll throw in a tour as well. Friday, 11:30; I’ll send a car,” he said leaving little room for being turned down.

“I don’t know dad. I’m not sure what the Colonel has in store for us, and I think Terri has duty at the hospital that morning.”

There was another pause as if his father was considering his words. These short moments were a source of anxiety for Keith, as he knew his father was used to getting his way, but would not show any disappointment in him if he did not. Keith did his fair share of things through the years to upset his father, and many times on purpose, but they always had a close, if not demonstrative, affection for one another.

“I ah…already talked to Colonel Williams and he said it would be no problem. Maybe you could ask if Terri can work something out. It would really mean a lot to me Keith.”

As he was about to get upset with his father, the General, calling to get some special time off for his son, he recognized there was something to this request beyond what was being said. And knowing his father, he would not know what it was until his father wanted him to.

“Okay dad, I’ll ask her when she gets home,” he said.