Time Gods

Chapter 4

July 12, 1966

Mary did notice there was a problem with her phone, but it started after the repairman had left, not before. Now, every time she made a call, she heard clicking noises. Once she even heard a faint yet discernible beep when she was talking to her mother, but her mother had said she thought it was something on her end.

Wendy suggested she call the phone company and get it checked out again, but Mary put it off. She just didn't like having strange people parade around her little apartment.

This morning she was talking with Wendy on the phone when there was a loud scratching noise and then a pop.

“Was that on your end or mine?” Wendy asked.

“You heard it too?”

“Loud and clear.”

Perhaps more peculiar was that Mary had received an unsolicited gift, delivered straight to her door this morning. It was a bottle of Jefferson's Reserve Bourbon from Bardstown, Kentucky, the heart of the bourbon capital of the world, wrapped in a decorative box. An enclosed brochure said that it had matured since 1940 and had a rich bouquet, golden color and mellow flavor.

From an unknown admirer named Professor Cali? Who the heck was he? Mary tried to recall the name. An associate professor? She just couldn't place it. She moved the bottle up into the kitchen cabinet, next to the coffee container. It remained there, unopened. One day, perhaps during a special occasion, she would bring it out. She would not drink it alone, and she didn't like to mix alcohol with LSD or pot.

She looked at her calendar and then her watch. Mary told her father she would come and see him that afternoon. Riding to Brooklyn on the subway wasn't her favorite trip, but the A Train was the most efficient mode of travel between the boroughs. She dressed informally for the hot weather in jeans and a light-colored cotton blouse tied around her midriff with a knot.

* * *

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the country, a telephone call was being placed from a secret military facility about ninety miles north of Las Vegas. General Brian Morgan III spoke over a secure, scrambled line with Senator Jonathan Perry, who was calling from an eighteen-story resort, the tallest in the Bahamas. The Senator had been on vacation, enjoying the pine-sheltered beach and colossal pool when he made his call from his private suite.

“We've been having problems with some of the locals around here at Groom Lake,” the General explained. “People are suspicious it's a bit more than a dried lake bed in the desert.”

“Well it's obviously more than a dried lake bed.”

“You know what I mean. Damn UFO people.”

“Stonewall with disinformation,” the Senator ordered. “Our standard procedure. Pretty soon people will tune it out of their minds.”

“Yes, of course. Just like we did with the Roswell incident, Senator. Certainly easier than what you politicians are going through in Washington with the anti-Vietnam War protests. How do you like the Bahamas?”

“Beautiful,” the Senator said, looking from his balcony at the aqua colored cove stretching out before him. The pure, white sandy beach was shimmering as the waves washed over it. He shook his head and sighed silently, then returned his gaze toward the strange woman with orange-spiked hair who sat opposite him on the bed. “General, I was wondering if you could do a little favor for me.”

“Favor?” the General asked. “Does this concern the upcoming signing of proposed MUPDA and LTTA agreements in Milam Valley?”

“Not exactly, General.”

“Sir, you are the one in charge. How can I help?”

“I don't want Washington to hear about this,” the Senator explained as he looked down at the photos the woman with orange-spiked hair had handed him a few minutes before. He cleared his throat nervously and his cheeks blushed red. If anyone were to find out about this, his political career would be dangerously in peril, and his wife would probably divorce him. “General, I need you to send some men to guard a newly classified area in New York City.”

“Where at, Senator?”

“Astoria, Queens,” the Senator replied, flipping through the enlarged prints that the General could not see. “Deep underground. Secret facility.” How could this woman have acquired these photographs? What had seemed like a chance encounter with a seductive blonde woman named Connie two nights before had proved to be disastrous. “Just north of the Queensborough Bridge.”

“Didn't know such a facility existed, Senator.”

“It's top secret. More valuable than Fort Knox.”

“In Queens, New York?”

“Underground,” the Senator repeated. “Enough wealth to win in Vietnam hands down.”

“Certainly, Sir,” the General confirmed. “I'll dispatch a detail there right away.”

“The entire area must be sealed off,” Senator Perry insisted. “No unauthorized personnel should be allowed in or out. I'll send you a list of who is authorized, as well as the exact location. Oh, and General, I've been asked to tell you that this should be a standing order, regardless of what may happen in the future. This is directly involved with the meeting in India.”

“Yes, Senator.”

“Brian, you can tell the President I've seen what the Professor can do and it's genuine. I suggest that the United States spearhead this whole event. We want to be seen leading the free world, not dragging our feet.”

After a few parting words, the Senator put down the receiver and then looked up at the orange haired woman with the checkered jacket. “It's done,” he said.

“Thank you, Senator Perry,” Ms. Dee said politely. “We'll keep the negatives just in case, but rest assured, as long as you keep your end of the bargain, so will we.”

“Look, I don't know who you people are,” the Senator said, “but if my wife were to ever find out...”

“She won't,” Ms. Dee interrupted, “as long as the gold is protected by General Morgan and the President attends the meeting in Milam Valley. We'll also reward you, Senator, as promised. You'll get your share. All your ambitions will be fulfilled and you're re-election will be fully financed.”