“So President Truman originally formed this Majestic 12 group to develop new technologies?” Snapp said, trying to get away from the subject of Dr. Barnett.
“Not initially. They were supposed to find out if UFOs or flying disks were visiting Earth to invade or just make contact. It was a time of paranoia with the Koreans and Chinese acting up. Russia was developing weapons and ‘duck and cover’ was being taught in schools. If they were friendly and from space, that was one thing, but if these craft had hostile intentions or were from Russia, that was something else,” Lake told him.
“The mission has changed today?”
“Exactly. I don’t know what their mission is now but they are not worried about the Russians and they know the alien visitors are not hostile.”
“And that leaves weapons.”
Lake just shrugged his shoulders.
CHAPTER TEN
The room was small and dark. Only a bit of sunlight filtering in through the drawn shades provided any light at all. Three men sat at a mahogany table with green ink blotter pads. The only other things on the table were a pitcher of water and three glasses. No one had a notepad or even a pen out. Nothing would be recorded and no minutes kept.
A slight rush of cool air whispered through the room as the air conditioning kicked on. This was not their first meeting and it certainly would not be their last.
They were determined to see that the United States of America was protected at any cost. The irony was that none of them held ‘official’ positions. It kept the tradition of plausible deniability intact in case anything went wrong. The three men together had a hidden budget that rivaled many a country’s gross national product.
“I have made the necessary arrangements. The account will be totally untraceable. We will allocate three hundred million dollars at present and adjust as necessary. Deposits and withdrawals can be made by any of the three of us, just in case something should interfere with our plans.”
He handed them a small, leather bound book that held the account number and current balance.
The second man spoke, “I have made discreet enquiries about mounting a clandestine operation and I believe I may have found our person. I am not one hundred percent sure yet so I will not divulge the code name just yet. When I am entirely satisfied I will share further information with you.”
“But you are closing in on someone? Time is becoming a factor. We don’t know how much longer we have,” the third man said.
“It won’t be long now. I am simply not willing to rush this and possibly jeopardize everything by selecting the wrong person to head up this operation.”
“Still. We cannot disregard the possible time consideration.”
“Your point is well taken,” second man noted.
“I will have no problem with procurement. I have three avenues open for everything we need, should something happen to one. I anticipate no problems,” the second man reported.
“You will let us know if you need more assets. I will make the arrangements. Anything else gentlemen?”
“I do hate to keep harping on time but I have received word that significant progress has been made since they obtained this element-115. I don’t know the source or details but they have obtained a sizable amount. You know what that could mean,” the third man added.
All three men were quiet for several seconds. Each was lost in his own thoughts. How could they have suddenly obtained an element that is nearly impossible to produce?
“They have a new source. Someone or something is helping them. You may be right about the time factor. I figured we still had a year or even more before they could obtain the necessary element. We may very well have to step up our time table,” the first man replied.
“It still has to be the right person to head it up. Going faster with the wrong person will leave the situation vulnerable to potential disaster. If we expose ourselves too quickly it could actually work in their favor,” the second man insisted.
“And waiting too long will certainly lead to disaster. We have to pick up the pace. Element-115 has been one of their biggest obstacles and now it appears that they have overcome it. We need to be ready in time,” number three replied.
“I agree. I don’t like it much, but I understand the point. I will step up my investigation and hopefully have a positive report for you at our next meeting,” the number two man told them.
“We couldn’t ask for anything more,” number one replied.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
He looked at Heartbreak Hill which he had decided to challenge once more. It was no use to wait; either he would win or it would win. He had already run for three miles after doing normal calisthenics and now he was at the base of the hill. It was nothing more than a huge pile of sand. Granted, it was a very high pile of sand.
He used the corner of his shirt to wipe the sweat out of his eyes, took a deep breath and started up the hill. His legs churned as he tried to dig into the loose sand. He would make progress and then slip back.
Sweat poured off of his face as the sun beat down on him. Progress was painfully slow but little by little he was making progress as sweat ran down his neck. It seemed to be taking a lifetime as the lactic acid built up in his muscles causing them to burn. Still, he pumped his legs harder. He was not going to let this damn pile of sand break his heart.
Agonizingly slowly, he advanced until he could almost see over the top. His legs were on fire and each time he dug into the sand he thought about giving up but it was only momentary. No way was he going to quit at this point. Finally, his lungs sucking warm air, he reached the top. He bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to suck in as much air as his lungs could hold. Sweat poured off of his face and formed a small damp spot on the sand. He turned and looked down the hill.
It was disappointing. It didn’t look nearly as high from where he now stood. He used his shirt once again to wipe his face but it did little good. It was soaked through with perspiration.
Born Thomas Warren Miller in Illinois, he had grown up to be a good looking boy who had not only a bright mind but a great sense of humor. He seemed to find a way to get along with everyone. Not as big as some of his classmates in height, he made up for it in personality. He could always find some amusing anecdote just about the time everyone else was ready to give up.
When he had graduated from the University of Illinois as a mechanical engineer, he still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life. Finally he decided to join the Navy, a choice that was probably influenced by his grandfather.
It wasn’t long before he developed a strong interest in physical conditioning. His abilities combined with his quick mind enabled him to advance quickly.
He applied for, and was accepted by the Navy Seals. He had found a place where he could excel and sharpen his skills. The rigors of Seal training shaped him into a powerful and deadly young man. In every phase of the training he worked harder than anyone else. He was trying to both prove himself and to quench his thirst for knowledge. His talents and dedication did not go unnoticed. When he graduated from Seals training he was called in to see the Commanding Officer.
“Lieutenant Miller. You have done an outstanding job during your training. I am recommending you for the American Spirit Medal,” he said.
“Sir, thank you Sir.”
“At ease Lieutenant.”
“Sir, thank you Sir.”
“You can stop that Lieutenant. Have a chair. I have something I would like to discuss with you,” the Commanding Officer said.