Chapter 7
Enemy Territory
The commander initiated the liftoff of his military issue hover-car, the super efficient hydrogen fuel cell that powered the motors were a dream compared to the standard models on the market. The commander had observed that even the police service here had to make do with the standard model. Sign of the economic conditions, most of the police forces that had them only had one hover-car. The majority of police forces in the British sector had to make do with the old style ground car. His model even had gun emplacements for a forward firing and rearward firing machine guns and two sidewinder-II missiles. He had always been annoyed at the civilian polices insistence on all weapons being removed, before they were allowed in to the City of Aberdeen. The only thing he could enjoy was the superior speed and power. If he piloted his craft over the old farmland instead of following the old roads, there was no speed limit. He would be home in minutes.
As he rose up into the air, he looked around, trying to see if he could spot the Lone Stranger. Nothing.
"Can't have vanished in to thin air!" he kept saying to himself.
When he had reached the right altitude he flicked a switch on his dashboard to operate the private communications link to the Base.
"This is Wing Commander Samson to base I am returning to base as the crow flies. Over"
"Roger we copy commander" came the reply over the link "Air defence will be notified of your arrival. Can you give us an ETA. Over"
"About fifteen minutes. Over" The commander replied and then he switched off the communication link and put his foot down on the accelerator. The hover car picked up speed quite quickly as it sped over the roof tops, some of the houses long abandoned to the vandals, the vagrants and the rats. Soon he was flying over Durris Forest as the hover-car reached about three hundred miles per hour. The commander did his usual trick of hugging the terrain; he liked to keep his hand in on his flying skills. After ten minutes a light came on, on his radar detector, the Edzell air defence radar had picked him off. The commander then pushed another button to activate an identification transponder, without which he would be blasted from the sky by the Edzell air defences. Soon he was decelerating by using the reverse thrusters to slow the vehicle down, to a speed so that it could use the airbrakes, this of course was all done by computer control. All the commander had to do was push down on the break peddle.
After about quarter of an hour he reached the perimeter fence. He slowed the vehicle and flew slowly over the fence of the airbase. A guard at a gun-tower smartly saluted at the commander’s hover-car. The commander noticed and saluted back. He was on home territory, no trouble from civilians here. He hovered around looking for his parking space and eventually he located it. As usual some swine had parked in it, they would soon be on a charge. He found another parking space, parked in it and got out and walked to the main front door. He didn't notice the Lone Stranger opening the door of the boot of the hover-car.
"I wish people would learn to drive smoothly" the Lone Stranger said to himself.
As the Lone Stranger peeped out through the slightly opened boot. He noticed a security guard that had just come round a corner. The guard seemed to have spotted him, this was potentially a disaster The stranger brought out a cylinder object the size of a thermos flask and pressed a few buttons. He saw the guard freeze in mid action
"Handy things Chronon accelerators" he said to himself. For over these long years the stranger had been perfecting a device which would speed up the space time continuum in a local area. This allowed him to appear to disappear, by simply making his subjective seconds the size of microseconds. This of course had not been easy, even with a better computer than the one he had originally used for his experiments. The Lone Stranger got out of the boot, it was quite dark now. The Lone Stranger stretched his legs, he had begun to get cramp. He was not young as he used to be.
As he looked at the buildings around the site, it seemed like he was wandering in a still picture of the place. He could see migrating birds, frozen in mid flight. He did not have much power left on the Chronon Accelerator so he would have to get out of sight in a hurry. He made his way to what seemed like an old building, in former days this had been an administrative centre, now it was considered redundant. At first planning rules had meant they could not knock it down, now they just did not care either way. The building also looked as if it had not recently been used; the majority of the base administration now was carried out from new buildings. As he approached the door, he noticed that in spite of the building's apparent neglect, the lock had recently been used. Something seemed odd, but he could not put his finger on it. He got out his picklock set, this padlock should be easy to open. He opened the door fairly easily, too easily for an abandoned building. He took out his ever-glow lamp and switched it to torch mode. He swept it around the room, there was the old reception desk. A rat, frozen in time, in mid scamper across the floor. According to the old plans this building had been the office of the base commander at the time of the attack. The Lone Stranger's research had never found out who it was, for some reason that information had been expunged from the record. The omission from the record had to indicate that the conspiracy had gone further than Samson, how much further up he could not say.
A lot had happened in twenty years, the optimism of the new world order had evaporated when a new coup had taken place in the old Soviet Union, and now they had a Neo-Soviet empire to worry about. Twenty years ago, the Russians were interested in his experiments, yes, but he had assured them that he had no interest in changing Soviet history; he had even supplied them with a copy of his notes. He had received a reply back, that they were interested in treaty violations at RGIT, but the man who had said his experiment was a violation, had been dropped from the team for making unguarded comments. What ever the motive was, it could not have been the paranoid reds under the beds paranoia of the McCarthy period. There was international tension then, but it was before the second Russian coup. Such motives now would be hidden in the mists of time, it was up to the Lone Stranger to see if he could unearth it now. Maybe there would be repercussions now, maybe not, that was none of his concern. Hardly anyone would notice now, nor would they care, this had really become a personal matter.
Like the rest of the world, the Edzell site had been changed a lot in twenty years, so this building might hold the old operation files, maybe the mission to RGIT St Andrew Street would still be kept here. It was an awful long shot. The Lone Stranger half expected the evidence to have been shredded by now. It had been twenty years after all, and he was not sure why he had come here. As he had now confronted Samson, he would have to work fast before any evidence was destroyed. He walked down the corridor behind the old reception desk, there were signs on the doors, each saying which rank had which office. At last he found the one that marked out the office of the base commander. Unlike the other doors, the name plate had been removed, so he could not see the identity of who he was. He tried the door. As expected it was locked. He got out his picklock unlocked the door. As he opened the door, it felt like he was Howard Carter at the opening of the tomb of Tutankhamen. It had to have been from here that the decision, that had destroyed his life, had been made. He had suffered the curse, now he wanted the goods. As he went in the Lone Stranger gazed around the office he came into. He switched off his chronon accelerator
The office seemed like any normal office, in the window hung an old venetian blind, by the window there was an oak desk. In a corner was an old style filing cabinet and a wooden locker. The Lone Stranger closed and locked the door. He had attracted enough information. As he walked around the office he noticed that the desk's drawer had been used more recently than any other item. He knelt down to look at the draw; this room should have been abandoned years ago, so why was it being used. He decided to pick this lock as well. Like the other locks the draw opened easily,
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The security guard in the car park reached the hover-car and tried to open the boot to confront the intruder. The boot seemed locked.
"Commander” He yelled.
Commander Samson turned around to look at the security guard, he was pointing a gun at the boot of the commanders hover-car, "If it’s about where its parked soldier, some Joe has parked in my space."
"Its not that sir, we have an intruder in your boot" replied the guard.
"That can’t be" said the commander as he walked back to his car. He took out his car keys and went to the rear of the car. He looked at the lock. It showed signs of scratches, as if someone had been picking the lock.
"Shall I unlock the trunk sir? He maybe dangerous "Said the guard still pointing his gun at the boot
"Do I look like a coward soldier" the commander retorted as he inserted his key into the lock. It grated slightly, but in a few seconds it was open, and they gazed at an empty boot.
"I don't understand it sir" the guard said, confused by what he had seen, "I was certain I saw someone open this trunk from the inside. There is no way he could have got out"
"When do you next go on leave soldier" The commander asked, annoyed by this pointless interruption.
"Next month sir, I just had a medical sir. I did not hallucinate. I saw someone in this Trunk" The guard insisted.
It was getting late and the commander was getting very annoyed, "Look soldier there is nothing in that" Suddenly his voice dropped as he leaned in and picked up what looked like a piece of grit. He examined it, it looked like a piece of broken glass, he remembered it from the west corridor of the old RGIT St Andrew Street building.
The commander showed it to the guard, "Sorry soldier, you may be right after all. And if I know this joker he must be on the base. Sound the alarm, shoot on sight"
The guard operated his standard issue wrist walkie-talkie, "Petree, to security, intruder on base, condition red alert"
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Lone Stranger was looking through the collection of files in the drawer of the desk when the base alarm sounded. "Rats, the guard did see me" he said to himself. Hastily the he grabbed a pile of files. No way could he operate his Chronon accelerator, at least until it had time to recharge, this took 5 hours to do and he had a very little charge left. He hid behind the filling cabinet out of sight from the door and glanced through the files. They contained what seemed like hard core pornographic magazines They all contained pictures of naked women, hands tied behind there backs, legs in shackles and necks fastened in a steel collar chained to a wall, so they could not lower their heads. Their eyes all conveyed the sense of utter despair. The quality of production seemed very poor; this would indicate that it was an unapproved version. One of the magazines was a week out of date, this seemed the latest edition. It would certainly explain why they were kept in a deserted building. A note fell out; the Lone Stranger picked it up and read it
"To humming bird, Thanks for your continued cooperation, enclosed a brochure of our latest products in the forth coming sale. Your account has been credited as agreed in our arrangements. We look forward to further business. Yours Cranmer
This was not what he was looking for, but it was certainly explosive. Someone at Edzell, going by the code word humming bird, was cooperating with the white slave runners. The magazines were obviously sales brochures, the women captured from raids on some of the outer less defended islands. One of the photographs caught his eye, it was of Katharine. He had done well to save her from these modern day parasites. His mind drifted back to think of Cherry, sixteen and forced to be virtually naked in public, all on the orders of a faceless holding company. He could remember her shivering away in the cool atmosphere of the air-conditioned cafeteria, she obviously felt the cold more because of her small size, she had also appeared to be quite thin. She was a white slave as well, only this time it was sanctioned by a cruel loophole in the law.
A door slammed in the distance. The Lone Stranger hastily put the note and the week old brochure in his water proof bag. He still had other work to do. Hastily he tried the other drawer, it had files as well. He heard foot steps coming down the corridor. Quickly he closed the drawers and hid behind the filing cabinet. The footsteps came nearer and nearer. The Lone Stranger could hear other offices being unlocked and examined, as guards yelled out room numbers in order. Soon they would be opening the office he had holed up. He noticed that the way the desk was positioned in the room, if he hid underneath it he would be hidden more from sight, than his position behind the filing cabinet. Quickly he scampered under the desk and switched his ever-glow torch off, just as one of the guards put the key in the lock to the office door.
The guard opened the door to the office and switched the light on. "Can't see the intruder here" he said into a wrist walkie-talkie, "anyway its getting pointless looking at this building, nothings stored here anyway. All the classified stuffs in the other buildings"
"Officer Petree swore he saw him, and the commander’s boot had been tampered with. And the base commander believes him for some reason" came a mangled voice over the wrist communicator, "Procedure means all buildings must be checked, no matter how daft it seems to you" the voice added.
"This is ridiculous, this office hasn't been used in ages" said the guard to the other one that was examining the building as well, "I can't imagine what anyone would want from here, even the office equipment has gone." he added as they switched off the light and closed the door, locked it and left.
Slowly the Lone Stranger climbed out from under the desk and switched his ever-glow lamp on. He read through the new batch of files. It was still not what he wanted, but it was quite revealing as well. Humming bird appeared to be supplying details of the martial law drills to the white slave raiders and the times of any patrols. The documentation kept referring to an account being credited; surely it would have been safer to use cash or other such items, if one was bribing an official. The Lone Stranger put this other document in his bag; something told him it might do for later.
This was all very interesting, but not what he was looking for, the reason why St Andrew Street was bombed had to be here. He tried the drawers to the filing cabinet, it was locked. He tried his picklock. This lock was more difficult, even with his three years of experience in picking locks. It was a skill he had never anticipated having to learn. He heard footsteps outside the office. He froze up. The footsteps went away. He waited for a minute and then resumed his attempt at picking the lock. He managed it at last. He slowly pulled open the bottom drawer. It was empty apart from an empty envelope. He gently closed it, trying to make as little noise as possible. He tried the middle drawer. Plenty of old document holders, but no documents. He closed it carefully. As he pulled at the top drawer he had a sinking feeling. The drawer jammed. He moved the drawer back in and tried again to open it, it still jammed. He got out his old Swiss army penknife, although it had really been made in China. He stuck the blade in to try and dislodge the obstruction. After about thirty seconds of poking around the obstruction, a miss-aligned document holder cleared, and he managed to open the drawer. He folded up his penknife and put it away and then peered in side to see another empty document holder. He realised he would have to try the cupboard. The sound of the base alarm was still ringing. It was only a matter off time before they upgraded the search, he would have to hurry. He closed the top drawer.
He moved over to the cupboard and started pick the lock. He found it easier than the filing cabinet. The cabinet creaked as the Lone Stranger slowly opened the door, it was years since the door had last been opened, and the hinges complained about their lack of attention. as he looked inside, he could see an old faded copy of a book and a pile of documents. The Lone Stranger looked the book in his torch light. It was a copy of "Mein Kampf. He picked up the pile of documents. Most were old duty rosters from twenty years ago, but the last document seemed just what he wanted. Bingo! He found one dated from twenty years prior. The document was entitled "Operation Black-out, for your eyes only"
He took the file and sat down beside the filing cabinet. As he glanced through the file, He found hardly anything to do with his experiments. A few pages of it looked like biology notes, so the Lone Stranger could not quite decipher it; he was a physicist after all. All he could make out was that in the file he had just discovered, somewhere in St Andrew Street there was some other project that needed to be seen to be destroyed. He read the chilling words, "Congress or the White House must not know of this at all costs."
The file also went on to mention that destruction of the main college computer was paramount. Now he could understand what was wrong with the pictures of the ruined building, the entire corridor which held the computer had been obliterated, much more than the corridor which held the laboratory. If they really were trying to stop his experiments, then most of the destruction would have been confined to the particular corridor that the lab opened onto. What could possibly have been on the computer to require such a sanction? Even if it did, why not use a CIA demolition squad, why
use a helicopter gunship. More questions without answers
He read on. The file seemed to give the impression that something else was being done at the time at RGIT which was politically explosive apart from the Tachyon-Chronon experiments, but the file did not say what? The Lone Stranger thought of Patricia, she would have been the one that could decipher the few biology notes in the file. The end of the file gave a name of the author of the report. The name chilled him to the marrow. This man was a five star general and currently in charge of all US forces in Britain and currently running, with a good lead in the polls for president of the Western Bloc alliance. It was General John Reynolds.
"Oh s**t" he said to himself. He had hoped to present the findings to the general, now it seemed the general was in it as well.
He went to put the file in his waterproof bag when he noticed another file in the cupboard. He fished it out. It was a lot more recent, and indicated that this office was still being used, despite being abandoned for all these years. What he read was just as chilling. What ever they were up to twenty years ago, they were attempting to recreate it. It mentioned that the loss of the original Honeywell backup tapes was a great hindrance, but they were on the way to overcoming this. This told the Lone Stranger one more thing, whatever it was; it was not past history by a long chalk. If only he could get his hands on those tapes, especially as the US did not have them either. Then he realised, the only people who could hack into a Honeywell were Neel and Mike. He stared in to the darkened room, he had hit a dead end, unless, maybe Neel had been onto something. He could remember now, Neel was convinced that they could make a device to project things forwards and backwards in time, from the equipment used in the Lone Strangers thesis. As soon as he got off the base, he would have to hunt down Neel's computer and look at his notes. To help crack the case, he would have to return to twenty years ago, steal the backup tapes and rescue his friends. This was a very tall order
He heard a door bang down the corridor, they were coming back. He went to put this file in his bag when a leaflet dropped out. The Lone Stranger picked it up, it was a blank "with compliments" slip from a company called Tellerson Conglomerate. He looked at it, something seemed familiar, but at that moment he could not put his finger on it.
The Lone Stranger got up; the guards were now combing this area again for him. Now he would have to be more careful, as he did not have sufficient charge in the Chronon Accelerator to walk off the base. Carefully and quietly, he picked the lock on the office door. Every sound he made seemed amplified several fold. His face was dripping with sweat. He heard the sounds of footsteps coming past the door. The Lone Stranger froze. The sound of the footsteps then diminished into the background.
Slowly he opened the door and edged his way out of the room into the corridor. He dropped down to all fours to crawl along the corridor, in the shadows towards the main exit to the building. Suddenly it seemed like his luck had finally failed. By the door were two Military policemen The Lone Stranger took from his bag a small facemask and another canister. He put on the facemask and pulled out a pin from his other canister and chucked it down the corridor. It spewed out black tear gas. Quickly the Lone Stranger dropped down further to the floor as M18 rifles fired above him. He could hear the guards choking on the tear gas; he had picked it up from ex army supplies. He rapidly crawled between them and hit his head on something. It was the door, he forgot it opened inwards. He moved backwards and one of the military policemen opened the door to let the smoke out. In the confusion they had not noticed him, that tear gas was powerful stuff. The military policeman then activated a personal alarm which shrieked above the din of the base alarm. The Lone Stranger was only just able to inspect his Chronon accelerator, there was only enough charge for 20 subjective seconds. He activated it and ran out to a nearby ground car. The keys were still in it. He jumped into it and started the car as the Chronon accelerator exhausted its charge. The Lone Stranger put his foot down hard on the accelerator and headed towards the nearest fence. He could hear the sound of machine gun fire heading his way. Suddenly the back window shattered as a stream of bullets hit the back of the car. He had no choice; he would have to crash through the fence. The Lone Stranger drove the car through the fence, across a deserted road and then crashed down a small embankment into a stream. Then a stray bullet hit the fuel tank, a second later they had no need to worry about the cars rust problem, as the hydrogen fuel tank made a nice pretty fire ball on the side of the road.