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Authors: Bruce Roland

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BOOK: Blinding Fear
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“All of you must get back into the main hallway, right now!”

Within moments they were all standing in front of the clerk’s desk. She glared at Ludlow. “I thought I told you to put on the medical scrubs!”

“You did,” he answered impassively.

“Then why didn’t you!?”

“Because it was unnecessary. I didn’t go into the patient’s room.”

“Every visitor is absolutely required to follow all burn unit protocols!” She walked around to sit back down behind her desk. “Now I’m going to have to fill out a report why this happened! You’d think being an FBI agent you’d understand such things!”

“I need to speak with these two in private,” he replied, indicating Claire and Herc. “Why don’t you go back into the burn unit and find out what’s happening? Mr. Halpren’s condition is of great importance to me.”

“I’ve got important things of my own to........!”

“Not out here you don’t,” the big man said as he leaned over the desk.

She stared up at him for a few seconds, then gulped. “I guess there are a few things I could do in there as well.” She pushed the button to open the doors and swiftly left, muttering to herself.

As the doors closed Ludlow said, “Now that we’ve dispensed with that little annoyance, I’d like to see some ID from each of you.”

Herc paused for a few seconds, considering something, then pulled out his wallet as Claire fished in her small purse.

As Ludlow examined their respective driver’s licenses and work IDs, he scribbled something in a small notebook he’d produced from his jacket, then handed them back. “I need to know what Mr. Halpren was saying to you before he went into cardiac arrest,” he brusquely said to Herc

Claire could see Herc carefully gauging his response. “Why?”

Ludlow blinked. Claire immediately saw he was surprised by the brash response. She could only assume he wasn’t used to anyone challenging his authority. “Because I’m conducting an investigation.”

“Of what? Rich’s accident is nothing more than that. Even if it wasn’t, I don’t see how or why the FBI would be involved. This is a local matter, nothing more.”

“Are you refusing to cooperate with a federal agent?”

“I’m telling you that I’m under no legal obligation to reveal to you what Rich said to me. We’re old friends. He was simply sharing some of the deep regrets in life. Nothing more!”

Ludlow took a step toward Herc, “I think you’d better reconsider your position, Mr. Ramond. I strongly suspect Halpren said a lot more things to you than simply confessing his life’s sins. Interfering with the FBI in the midst of a lawful investigation is a serious offense!”

Herc took a step of his own. Now the two men were no more than a foot apart, staring at each other. “I couldn’t care less what you suspect! His last words.....”

The doors to the burn unit opened and the code blue team walked out. Claire could see from their expressions that no questions would be necessary to understand what had happened. She was, however, surprised at how little time they’d spent attempting to revive Halpren. She speculated the man was simply too far gone.

Herc, Ludlow and Claire stepped back to allow the group to pass. As they disappeared down the hall, Claire heard Herc whisper “Damn!” It was the first time she’d heard him utter any kind of profanity. Ludlow on the other hand seemed to be completely unfazed by the demise of the man whose suspicious death he seemed to be investigating.

He turned back to Herc. “I’m going to give you one more opportunity. What did Halpren say to you?!”

Claire waited for Herc to again get in the agent’s face. It wouldn’t have surprised her if the two had started yelling at each other, even gotten into some sort of physical confrontation. Although Herc was at least 50 pounds lighter and several inches shorter than Ludlow, she had little doubt Herc would hold his own. To her surprise, Herc calmly said to her, “Time for us to go, Claire. Nothing more to do here.” He put an arm around her shoulder and began leading her down the hallway.

From behind she heard Ludlow shout, “If you think this is the end of our conversation, Mr. Ramond, you’re sadly mistaken! You can bet on it!”

When they reached the Porsche and settled in their seats, Claire asked, “What did Halpren say to you?”

As he started the car he looked at her. “He said Ludlow was the one who tried to kill him at his house.”

“What?! Why?!”

“That’s what we’re going to try to find out. You’d better buckle up. I think its going to be a bumpy ride.”

Chapter 28

A little after 11 p.m. Claire and Herc walked up to the front entrance of Kayode Seok’s home at One Seoul Boulevard on the grounds of his spaceport. Claire was expecting a palatial estate but was surprised at the modest exterior. Normally, she would have questions about why a billionaire would choose such a relatively humble abode, but given the seriousness of the evenings events she thought it would be best to hold those questions until later.

During the trip back from Lubbock—again driven at breakneck speeds—Herc had detailed what Richard Halpren had said to him in the burn unit. Although there were still many unanswered critical questions—and holes—surrounding the story, she was still astonished, if not stunned, by the basics of what Herc’s late friend had told him.

Herc had called Kay from the car to ask if they could meet immediately. He hadn’t given many details over the phone other than Rich Halpren had died as the result of an explosion and fire at his house. He’d said he would provide all the details when they met.

Within moments of Herc ringing the bell, the door opened and a tired-looking Kay greeted them.

“Herc, Claire. Come in.” He turned to lead them back into the spacious, yet unassuming living room; tastefully decorated in modern, very comfortable-looking furniture. The walls were again covered with aviation related and family photos. “Please excuse Kyung not saying hello,” he said as they were seated. “She’s a little under the weather. I guess I’m not a hundred percent either. I’ve got so much on my plate......” He let the thought go unfinished.

“I’m sorry, Kay. If you need some rest, we can come back in the morning.”

“No, it’s all right. What you were saying over the phone seems to warrant meeting like this. Why don’t you just lay everything on the table and let’s see what we’ve got.”

Herc paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, then pushed ahead. “As I said, our senior jet engine mechanic, Rick Halpren, died as the result of a big explosion yesterday at his home. We ran into a deputy sheriff and fire marshall at the hospital who say the preliminary forensic evidence seems to point toward the cause being arson or possibly homicide. I was flabbergasted by the idea of someone plotting and killing someone as harmless as Rich. The only person in his life he might have even remotely called an enemy would’ve been his ex-wife. But they’ve been apart for years now and from what he said he thinks she lives somewhere around L.A..

Before he died, though, he was able to tell me what he thinks happened at his house.” Herc paused again, shaking his head. “You aren’t going to believe this. He said an FBI agent, who was also at the hospital, was the person responsible for the explosion.”

Kay looked at Herc and then Claire in astonishment. “Why would the FBI want to kill Rich?!”

Herc spread his hands. “I’m not sure Kay, but Rich was positive this agent was the one.”

“How did he know?”

“Last night, somewhere around 2 or 3 in the morning, he heard a noise in his kitchen. He got up to check it out and saw this big man messing around his gas stove. Naturally, he was afraid to confront the guy or do anything else to give himself away, but there was just enough light to see the guy’s face. It was apparently the same guy who showed up at the hospital, telling us he was an FBI agent. Anyway, a few minutes later Rich heard what sounded like splashing liquid, then smelled gasoline. He saw the guy leave right after that, so he tried calling 911 but couldn’t get his cell phone to connect. He then tried his landline. It’s the last thing he remembers. More than likely, picking up the handset on the phone created just enough of a spark to set off the natural gas.”

“I’m sorry. None of this makes much sense. Did this supposed FBI agent show you any ID at the hospital?”

“Yeah. Looked legit. He also had on a standard-issue FBI jacket. You can’t buy those at your local Walmart.”

Kay shook his head. “It seems so amateurish, so sloppy: Sabotaging the stove, throwing gasoline everywhere. Whoever was at Rich’s home sounds more like a burglar trying to cover his crime, not an FBI agent!”

“Hang on. There’s more. Rich also thought his explosion was connected to another strange death that happened a couple of weeks ago in Colorado.”

Kay leaned back in the sofa, obviously perplexed and unsure what to say or questions to ask. He waved a hand. “Go ahead.”

“The next part is where the story gets really scary. Rich was an amateur astronomer. That I knew. What I didn’t know was he’d made friends while in an astronomical forum with a guy named Frank Whalen.
He
lives in Colorado Springs. Seems Whalen had discovered what he thought was a new comet and sent the details to whatever the official organization is that certifies that sort of thing. Within minutes he gets what amounts to a cease-and-desist e-mail from some super-secret U.S. agency. It tells him that unless he forgets about the comet he’s in serious trouble. What that trouble is, the letter doesn’t spell out. What’s scary about the whole thing is that Whalen is killed in his home not long after, apparently by a meth addict, who, by the way, also ends up dead.”

“The whole thing is beginning to sound like it came straight out of a science fiction murder mystery,” Seok exclaimed. Then he looked at both of them carefully. “Unless I’m mistaken, there’s more to this nightmare.”

Herc looked at Claire, then said. “It’s your idea. Why don’t you tell him?”

“Herc and I talked it over on the way back. What occurred to us is the comet is real and it’s headed our way. How big it is, when it might get to Earth or if it’s going to hit us at all, are things we obviously don’t know. But if our scenario is true—and it’s a big if—the government would most certainly know.” She stopped to take a breath. “Here goes, and I know this sounds crazy but......the government wants to keep it secret as long as possible so they can deal with the threat the comet might pose to all of us. They figure that if word leaks out chaos breaks out worldwide.”

“So when the comet is found by amateur astronomers around the world,” Herc continued, “—and there are thousands of them—they get a letter, or an e-mail or a visit from their respective governments’ warning them in no-uncertain terms to leave it alone, keep quiet, or else. I can’t help but wonder how many others have died mysteriously or simply disappeared after they got an e-mail and refused to do what it told.”

The three stopped for a few minutes, transfixed by the bleak picture they were painting; conflicted by what, if anything they should do.

Claire broke the silence. “We can’t let this happen. We’ve got to go public!”

“What do we say, Claire?” Kay responded. “That some astronomers died in odd circumstances? Nobody would believe us, especially when the FBI and everybody else at the federal level would emphatically deny it.”

Suddenly Claire remembered something. “The explosion in Cambridge! I heard on the news there are some who now suspect it was a terrorist plot gone awry; that the astrophysics building was not the intended target at all. Remember the computer in the basement that belonged to the.....the....I can’t remember the name of the organization.”

“The International Astronomical Union,” Herc added. “They were the owners. The computer held comet discoveries for the last, what, hundred or so years. Maybe that’s it. The government must have believed it presented a threat to their conspiracy. But how or why?”

“Didn’t the lead detective on the case from Massachusetts disappear?” Kay asked.

“Come to think of it, he did.” Herc said. “He vanished out of his hotel and has never been seen since. Maybe he sniffed out the truth, told the wrong people and paid the price.”

“Oh...my....God!” Claire breathed quietly.

“What?!” Herc said.

“That FBI agent must think we know what he’s doing and why,” she said. “That’s why he was questioning you! And since you refused to answer, he’s probably got us literally in his crosshairs! And I showed him my Sentinel ID! I’ll bet he thinks I’m going to write an article about the whole thing!”

“As I think about it now, maybe you should,” Kayode said calmly.

All three were silent for nearly a minute as they considered the idea.

“We need more solid evidence.” Claire finally said. “The Sentinel or any other reputable paper would refuse to run it. We don’t know for a fact that Whalen was murdered by Ludlow. We don’t know that Halpren put two and two together and came up with a massive government conspiracy. He probably only suspected like we do. We don’t know for sure the Cambridge explosion was intended to take out the computer.......”

“The resupply of the ISS!” Herc almost yelled out. “I couldn’t understand why they were doing it now, when it’s well stocked already. They’re doing it because..... because, it’s worse than we thought.” His voice trailed off.

Once again no one spoke, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together.

Finally, Kay said, “If you’re right, the comet must be really big—a planet killer—at least 6 miles in diameter. The same as the one that took out the dinosaurs 65 million years ago. Come to think of it, it might not be a comet at all. It could be an asteroid. Either one will do the job.”

“They’re trying to save humanity, or so they believe,” Herc stated matter-of-factly. “With a comet that big, anybody that’s on the surface stands little-to-no chance of survival beyond a few weeks or months. There’d be a colossal explosion: six billion times more powerful than the 20-kiloton atom bomb we dropped on Hiroshima at the end of World War II. The debris that gets thrown into the atmosphere would block out the sun around the world for months. If the comet lands in water, there’d be huge tsunamis sweeping the globe. Those six men and women NASA says are part of a Mars mission experiment—they’re really nothing less than the future of the human race on Earth. As I think about it now, I’ll bet we discover they’re all young, attractive, brilliant, very fertile, and with very diverse ethnicities. They’re going to stay in orbit as long as they can, then come back literally when the dust settles. Minimum of two years. God only knows what they’ll come back to, though”

“The ISS mission must be their backup if everything else fails, whatever that is,” Kay added. “Scientists have been war-gaming this scenario for years. What do you do when a 6-mile asteroid is headed your way? Blast it with a nuclear bomb or two or three; push it into a different orbit with giant lasers, maybe plant giant rocket motors on it. They all might work—or not. If they don’t, you’ve got to have a Plan B or C or D.”

They all stopped, desperately trying to come to grips with the end-of-times scenes.

“Before we do or say anything else, we’ve got to get that hard proof,” Claire said, now focused on the most important article of her—or any other journalist’s—life. “People have a right to know.....” She stopped and barely smiled. “It’s funny, I suppose. I’ve used that phrase ever since I was in J-school. It’s the unofficial mantra of journalists everywhere. Now that we’re faced with extinction, it actually means something of staggering importance; not just whether your local politician had an affair with a celebrity’s wife or that taxes were raised in a late-night session of Congress. This is the real deal—everyone on the planet should have the right to know and face their common demise. No more right side of the aisle or left, first world and third; no more being led down a primrose path of ‘Trust us. We know what’s best for you.’”

“Where do you want to start, Claire?” Kay asked. “You’re the expert on sources and leads and what editors expect. If you’ll accept, I’m willing to devote as many resources as I have to help.”

“Thank you, Kay. I appreciate it.” She thought for a minute. “Why don’t we go to Colorado Springs and see what we can dig up there. Proving why and how Whalen died and any connection to Ludlow is a good first start. Men like him are incredibly arrogant. They think they’ve covered their tracks perfectly, but most of the time leave evidence that good detectives find. The Colorado Springs PD may have been looking in the wrong places. We know something they don’t. Once we connect those dots we’ve got to find a government source. Kay, maybe one of your customers has contacts in the FBI, NSA or NASA that could speak candidly with me. Whatever we do, we’ve got to move quickly. Can you get away?”

Kay laughed softly. “That’s one of the good things about being the boss. You can take off whenever you want to—or so they tell me. Seriously though, operations here are in standby mode until the bureaucrats in Washington finally decide to push things through. What do you think, Herc?”

“No problem. Flight testing is complete. Crews are fully trained. We’re running practice flights in the simulator to stay up to speed. Can’t see any other reason to stick around. All we’ve got to do is brief our seconds-in-command. Naturally, we shouldn’t tell anyone exactly what we’re doing or where we’re going. But, yeah, we can break away.”

“I’ve got an entire fleet of aircraft at our disposal,” Kay continued. “We can take the Gulfstream G150 and be in Colorado Springs in less than three hours. I’ve got four, full-time pilots on payroll. But Herc and I can easily handle those responsibilities. We can be wheels-up first thing in the morning.”

BOOK: Blinding Fear
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