A Twist in Time (12 page)

"Okay." Arthurs said.   The change in the sound on the line told Jose that the general had hung up. 

"Call everybody in, please." Jose said to the Duty Controller.  Because of the recall, there were a number of warrant officers outside of the operations room and in the training room.

When they had come in and quieted down, Jose said, “It’s been decided that we are not going to take action on the shooting at this time."   He heard several reactions around the room. 

"I think there is a lot more we will learn, but those are our orders for now.  Now, who do any of you know that was injured today?" 

The discussion went on for more than an hour.  The question of why it was okay to reach back into time to save Major General Arthurs, but it was not okay to save the multiple victims at Ft. Hood came up and they chewed on it.  Jose frankly admitted that he had used the system without authorization to save his commander.  He also admitted that he hadn't requested permission because he didn't want to be told no.   No one was completely satisfied, but they had their say. The crew was frustrated and angry knowing that they had the ability to take out the shooter before a round was fired.  In the end, Jose reinforced that Dr. Dunnan knew nothing, at least he hoped she knew nothing, about the ability to go back into time.   

Chapter  10:  "Book Code"

Friday, November 6, 2009  0245  Eastern 

The Quarters of  Major Gen and Mrs. Ted Arthurs, Homestead, FL

Excerpt from the Personal Narrative of Mr. Ted Arthurs, PhD

Recorded May 2014

CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET/TA 

"We thought there were lessons that the body and brain of the Department of Defense would learn from this terrible event.  I’m afraid we were wrong.  Now, in hindsight, I think we should have done more.”

When his cell phone went off at 0245, Ted Arthurs wasn’t asleep.  He was puzzled because the ring was the standard electronic ring his phone used for unknown incoming calls.  It wasn’t the Cavalry Charge of the Project duty officer or any of the other numbers programmed into the phone.  He rolled over to reach the nightstand.  He swiped the phone’s screen and said, “Arthurs”. 

“General,” a rough voice said.  “Can you copy some numbers?” 

Ted put both feet on the floor, switched on the lamp, and rummaged for a pen.  “Ready to copy.” he said.

The voice read twenty-three numbers.  Ted wrote them down and repeated them back.  “That’s it.” The caller said and hung up. 

Sally hadn’t said a word, but Ted knew she was watching him with half-open eyes.  She returned to the Project the previous afternoon after signing both of their kids out of school.  The kids waited in his office until the Force Protection level dropped and Sally took them home.  The evening was quiet and now neither of them was sleeping well knowing the details of the Ft. Hood shootings.  They both wondered why the Project wasn’t allowed to save the lives of the servicemen in the Ft. Hood Soldier Readiness Center. 

Ted walked over to a chair and picked up the computer bag he habitually carried to his office and back.  The soft-sided bag served mainly to carry the fruit and nut snacks that Sally allowed him. His iPhone had gradually replaced the laptop, calculator, voice recorder, pocket GPS and other gear he had carried.  Only his Leatherman remained and that had to stay behind when he flew commercially.  The one constant item in the bag was a well-worn paperback copy of the novel “Saucer” by Stephen Coonts.  Coonts was one of his favorite authors and, even if Coonts was a Navy pilot, Ted thought that “Saucer” was one of the best books Coonts had written.

The first letter the voice on the phone had dictated was “2”.  That meant the rest of the message was a letter code instead of a word code.  The first number would have been “1” for a word code, but word codes took longer to compose.  The second letter was 10. The standard protocol he and the Chairman had agreed on was to add 101 to the page numbers. A book code based on shared secrets, secrets like the title of the book and transformed page numbers, was practically impossible for computers to break. 

Ted turned to page 111 of “Saucer”.  The next numbers were 22 and 1.  The first character in line twenty-two was “S”.   

The message only took a few minutes to decode.  It came out as, “SAM 1241 0700.” 

Ted looked up at Sally, “I have to meet a Special Air Mission Flight at oh seven hundred.” 

“Going somewhere? “Sally asked.

“No idea.” Ted said, looking at the clock, but I’d better take a fly-away bag just in case. 

Sally just patted the bed beside her.  “Your bag is packed and you’ve got clean underwear, so come here and hug me up.  Sleeping isn’t working.”

Ted turned off the light.  He didn’t have to be told twice. 

***

Wearing a short sleeve blue uniform shirt with two stars on each shoulder, Ted walked into Homestead base operations at 0645.  The Staff Sergeant behind the desk rose to his feet and said, “Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning, Sergeant. Got an inbound on a SAM 1241?” 

“Yes, sir.  It just came in from approach control. No codes on board, Sir.”

Ted nodded.  The term “No codes” meant there were no senior officers on board as passengers.  He knew that in this case it might or might not be true.  Sometimes very senior officers flew in requesting “no honors” and reporting “no codes” on board. 

“I’ll need to get out to the aircraft as soon as it opens up.  Can you park them out front?”

“Yes Sir,” the sergeant replied.  “It’s a C-37.  They’ll fit into the spot right next to the building.”

The shiny Air Force version of the Gulfstream IV taxied to base operations.  As the engines spooled down the door opened and the stairs folded down.  The man who appeared wore the chevrons of a chief master sergeant, the highest enlisted Air Force rank. Ted didn’t know him, but the Sergeant walked right up to him and saluted. 

“Good morning, Chief.” Ted said as he returned the salute.  “Got up early?” 

The Chief Master Sergeant smiled, “Yes Sir.  Would you come with me into the aircraft, Sir?  The coffee’s great.” 

Ted recognized the Chief’s voice as the one on the phone in the early hours of the morning.  Nodding, he followed the Chief up the stairs.  The flight crew, a major, a captain, and a technical sergeant, were completely unimpressed with a major general.  They flew VIPs all day every day.  The technical sergeant gave them fresh cups of coffee and then walked down the stairs and joined the pilots in base operations.

The chief master sergeant opened what Ted recognized as a government-issued laptop computer.  “Sir, I’ve seen your picture, but would you please put you right index finger on this little scanner thing?” 

Ted complied.  The laptop beeped and the Chief nodded. 

“Thank you, Sir. I have something for you. The only thing I know about this is that I’m supposed to give you this package, you are supposed to read it through, and I’m supposed to hand carry anything you might reply. Then I’m supposed to forget it ever happened.” 

The Chief handed Ted a thick sealed envelope and took his cup of coffee down to the foot of the stairs.

Ted opened the envelope, put the contents on one of the plane’s big tray tables, and immediately recognized that the package was put together in a hurry.  There was no table of contents, cover letter, or other information.  There were photos, obviously taken from surveillance video cameras, of the three Fort Hood shooters along with maps and diagrams. Some of the documents were copies that weren’t put on the copy machine straight.  There was a timeline of the location of two of the shooters on a minute-by-minute basis for several minutes before the first shots were fired. Ted found an FBI report showing where the two shooters who accompanied Major Hasan, their real names still weren’t know, spent the night and some traffic cam photos  from outside the base showing them in a car.  There was a USB memory stick in the envelope. 

A brief hand-written note at the top of the stack said, “Stop the two unknown shooters only. Let Hasan go on. He is a problem we must face.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ted, walked down the airplane stairs carrying the envelope and said, “Chief, there is no reply.”  They exchanged salutes and Ted walked away.

Back in his office, Ted sat down with Sally.  “The Chairman wants us to take out two of the Fort Hood shooters; the civilians.  He wants the Army to have deal with Hasan and the system that let him in.” 

Sally looked grim.  “Well, that’s a big picture strategic view.  It’s tough, but I guess I understand it.  Do we have enough information to get the other two?”

“I think so.” Ted said.  “But, you know what I think?  I think this would be better done in Nevada.”  As he spoke, Ted clicked an icon on his desktop computer that brought up the weather on the best flight path between Florida and Nevada. 

Sally stood up to get his attention. “But, if it goes well, no one will ever know anyway?  Right?  That’s always the conundrum.  If you change the past, how do you know you changed the past?  Why does it make a difference if the terrorists are taken down by the Homestead crew or the Boulder City crew? “ 

“I can’t express it very well.”  Ted replied.  “But I think it will make a difference, maybe a difference in the universe, if Jose’s Army troops feel like they are protecting their own.  Even if it’s only happening for a little while in some twist in time.”

Sally looked at him with a combination of surprise and approval.  “Weather okay?” she asked.  Ted nodded, “Yeah, I can refuel at either of two bases in Texas.  Weather looks good at both.”

“Go.” She said.

Ted walked to his office door and said, “Missus Marsh? Please ask base operations to roll out my jet”. 

Turning back to Sally he said, “Please call Jose and ask him to meet me at Nellis in, uh, exactly four hours.”  For a moment the thought of saying something like “... and don’t tell him anything else.” rose to his lips, but years of successful marriage squelched the words.  They knew each other’s thinking. 

“When is Fred Landry due in?” he asked. 

“About two this afternoon,” Sally replied.  Major General Fred Landry, USAF retired, was their old boss and still acted as the chief physicist on The Project.  He was returning from Japan where low-level discussions with Japanese professors doing similar work for the Japanese Government were mired in polite discussion of nothing. 

“I’m going to talk to Bill and Janet.”  He said as he picked up the phone.  “They always explain the time conundrum better than I can.”

Chapter  11:  "Carefully Calibrated Violence"  

Friday, November 6, 2009  0800 Pacific  

Nellis AFB and TDA Detachment 1,  Boulder City, Nevada

Excerpt from the Personal Narrative of Mr. Ted Arthurs, PhD

Recorded May 2014

CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET/TA 

"There are times that we think we know what we did, but there are also plenty of times that we know that we don’t know.” 

Major Jose Valenzuela was in a golf cart in the Nellis Air Force Base transient aircraft parking area when his boss pulled in his white jet.  “Damn,” he thought to himself not for the first time.  “They pay us to fly those things.  I’d do this job for free!”

After the line crew secured the ejection seat, Ted climbed down and then, balancing his helmet on his left hip, returned Jose’s salute. 

“Ready to go to work?” Ted asked over the roar of a taxiing F-15. 

“If you mean what I think you mean, Sir, we are more than ready!”