Department 51

By V.G. Harrison

Project Solstice, Book Two.

Ava Frost has spent the past three months mourning the death of her brother, Ian, but now she’s facing criminal charges from Department 51 – charges that could put her in federal prison for the rest of her life unless she accepts their "work-release" deal.

She can hardly stand working for the organization she blames for the death of her brother, yet while on the Department 51 base, she makes a chilling discovery... a sentient, complex computer program called Ian 2 has been imprinted with her brother's anagrams. More shocking, the computer is linked to her brain, sharing the same organic metal as her cybernetic implant.

Department 51 wants her to disable Ian 2, but when an alien craft threatens the Earth, Ava discovers her brother’s computer program may be the only key to deciphering the invaders’ intentions. Can she use Ian 2 to stop the alien invasion? Or will she be forced to save herself when a band of supernaturals try to remove her implant and Ian 2 can't reach her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: V.G. Harrison
• Release date: Nov 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311379320

V.G. Harrison

Science fiction has been my love since I was a little kid who purposely tried to stay up at 11pm to watch Star Trek. When Star Wars hit the scene, I would've given anything--even pay a total stranger--to watch it everyday at the movie theatre. Of course, my parents would've yanked me out of my seat by the scruff of my neck. But...my all-time favorite is Alien 2. And here I thought Alien wouldn't be topped.So what does any of this have to do with me and my writing? Well, I've been writing for a few years now and even though I watch a lot of sci-fi, I don't read it nearly as much of it as I do paranormal. So, it made sense to combine the two and come up with my Project Solstice series.I currently live in North Carolina with my family and am a disenchanted member of the rat race.

Book preview

Department 51

Project Solstice, Book Two

By V.G. Harrison

This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, locations, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by V.G. Harrison

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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of this author.

For more information: [e-mail]

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Website: www.vgharrison.com

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Dedication

To my daughter, the love of my life. I wish I had half of the imagination of a four-year old.

Choices

I took the paper from the printer, trimmed it down, and placed it on top of a growing pile of articles I kept in a manila folder. I thought it was funny that after five months the town of Willow Falls, North Carolina was still reeling over the disappearance of over five hundred of their citizens in one night. For a big city like Boston, those numbers would be noticeable. For a town of two thousand, they were catastrophic. All sorts of weirdoes showed up with theories that ranged from a new Lost Colony to alien abductions. I thought the latter was apropos.

When I reached for my coffee mug, a piece of paper accidentally blew out of the folder. I leaned down to pick it up, catching the headline and smiling. Economy Forces Inhabitants To Bail was one of the better titles. The one that stuck in my mind most was Ocean Beast Swallows Coastal Township.

Again, that last headline was closer to the truth.

Despite learning that creatures like skinwalkers and vampires existed in our world, I found it more disturbing that they might be the product of alien inbreeding and DNA splicing. Whether or not that piece of information ever made it beyond the Vampire Assembly to the rest of the supernatural community was anyone’s guess. I was betting it did, which was why I moved, changed my phone number, and started doing consulting work that kept me practically living out of my luggage.

I packed up my folder and glanced at the two oversized suitcases standing near the door. A taxi waited downstairs to take me to Logan International Airport for a three-month contract job in Austin, Texas. Since the apartment came partially furnished, there wasn’t much for me to pack. Clutching a duffle bag and laptop bag, I opened the door.

The phone rang.

I glanced at the clock. If I answered it, I’d be cutting it close. Hoping my cabbie would wait, I looked down the hall and wondered if I should leave let the call go to voicemail and check it later. Crap. I dropped my suitcase and went for the phone.

Hello? Nobody answered. "Hello?" I said, more irritated this time. Annoyed by the silence, I hung up. If they wanted me that bad, they’d call again.

A knock on the open door jolted me.

A tall man wearing a smoke-gray coat that stopped at his thighs stared back. He pulled off his glasses and brushed a few droplets from his short, graying hair. His chiseled face absent of smiles as his dark eyes penetrated me. Ms. Frost, I presume?

I hated it when people made my name sound like they wanted to blame me for the crappy weather. Yeah. And you are…?

Mr. Poledouris sent me.

Okay, but that doesn’t say who you are or what you want, let alone who Mr. Poledouris is or why I should care. I glanced at the top of my suitcase, where I had packed a small revolver. Given everything that had happened in Willow Falls, it was hard not to keep one—or more—in my vicinity. Thankfully, I had learned how to use them, and had taken some self-defense classes. I just hoped I didn’t have to use my skills, since I didn’t graduate at the top of my class.

The stranger looked around my apartment. When he reached inside his pocket, I tensed. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. You’re on your way to Austin, Texas for a job. I’m here to tell you you’re not.

How the— I gulped, hoping he didn’t detect the slight tremor in my voice.

His face remained unchanged. The people I work for are the ones who hired you. Your cab is actually my Town Car, which will drive us all the way to LaGuardia. From there, we’ll board a private jet and fly to a small airstrip west of Roanoke, Virginia. Our destination is an area not on the map.

Yeah. Right. Nervousness started to worm its way inside me. I had a horrible feeling why this guy was being as stealthy as he was. Part of me that was in denial and hoped it was all a mistake. That some super-rich client had hired me to tutor his failing kid. Even the gulp didn’t do anything to steady my nerves. And I should believe you why?

Because the name of the company you’re supposed to go to is called Technaught and the people I work for is Department 51.

Sweet mother of… My bladder could’ve emptied out on my shoes and I’d never notice. My jaw began to quiver, setting off another tremor that ran clear through to my other extremities. My gun was looking all the more better and worth the chance, even if there was a chance he might wrestle it away and use it against me.

Part of the reason why I changed my address, my job every three months or less, and tried to be unavailable at all times was because I wanted normalcy. Not paranormalcy. I even severed ties with my deceased brother’s skinwalker clan because it was best for everyone involved. I knew Department 51 might be harder to hide from, but I sure didn’t want to come face to face with them like this.

The citizens who left Willow Falls in the dark of night were all employed by Section 51. The 51 part came from the infamous Area 51, which actually had very little to do—indirectly, of course—with alien technology. So many conspiracy theorists focused on that being UFO Ground Zero that it gave the government time to set up two official alien research bases. I barely lived through the rubble called Section 51. There was no telling what Department 51 had going on.

The stranger continued. Your presence is requested, or should I step aside and let the Vampire Assembly have their way with you?

The Vampire…? I paused to reconfigure my thoughts and keep my gut from knotting so tight that I could puke on the floor. I have no idea what you’re talking about, and if you don’t leave my apartment, I’ll call the police. Get. Out.

I glanced at my suitcase again. Oh, how I wanted that gun more than anything right now. But if this guy was anything like Section 51’s military, he was trained to kill. And that was assuming he hadn’t been genetically altered. Me and my little slender, human body didn’t stand a chance regardless of what his double helix looked like.

That was the rub. I wasn’t ready to join my triplet brother in the afterlife. So, rather than try for the weapon, I relaxed my stance and hoped my purse would make a good enough deterrent, since it was all I had.

I’ll say it again, I said, not bothering to keep the irritation out of my voice. "You have the wrong person and if you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops and they’ll make you leave."

Instead of waiting for an answer, I picked up the phone.

The man swooped behind me, grabbing the receiver.

I slammed an elbow in his ribs and rammed the heel of my free hand as hard as I could into his face. It connected with his nostrils, throwing his head backward. His grip loosened.

I tried to slip away, but he snagged my wrist. Anger singed his teary eyes. I slid my purse from my elbow to my hand and swung it at him. He snagged my arm and stopped the blow.

When he tried to pull me forward, I began grappling with him, trying to make sure he didn’t get a hold. I screamed and clawed at anything I could get my hands on. We stumbled across the floor, slamming into furniture and breaking pictures hanging on the walls. I threw two lamps at him, but only one made contact with his shoulder. When he grabbed me by my French braid, I whipped around and smacked him hard across the cheek. He grabbed me, pinning both my arms to my sides, and slammed us both to the floor. I landed on the bottom with the wind knocked out of me. We were close enough for him to kick the door closed.

What do you want from me? I continued to wiggle, though it was obvious he had the upper hand.

I can’t say. He managed to pin both hands behind my back and cinch them together with a piece of plastic. I’m only your traveling companion.

Get off me, you jerk. Breathing turned into a struggle the longer he remained pressed against my back. When he pulled away, I rolled over to my side. You have the wrong person. Get out of my apartment before my neighbors call the police. Assuming they haven’t already with the commotion. It was a bluff at best, considering the walls seemed to be made of concrete around this place.

Huffing, he stared down at me. Let me make this easy for you, Ms. Frost. You can either come of your own volition or we can have you arrested for treason. At the end of the day, the choice is yours. Not to mention the arrest will go on your permanent record. Good luck explaining that away on your next job application.

I hesitated, trying to read his face. You wouldn’t dare. You assholes arrest me and everyone will know about vampires among us and alien cover-ups. The conspiracy theorists will have a field day with you.

Is that your final answer?

Yes.

Very well. He straightened his jacket and ran a hand through his hair before turning and leaving.

Ten minutes later, the FBI knocked on my door and arrested me on charges of treason, conspiracy, cybercrimes, and extortion.

Mr. Flanagan, my lawyer, huffed as he flipped through the numerous charges that were brought against me. The middle-aged man with the saggy cheeks readjusted his glasses several times. We can probably plead insanity.

I sat up in my orange jumpsuit that I had hated with a passion over the last five days I had been in jail. That’s bullshit and you know it. All of that crap is made up.

And your story isn’t?

I slumped back in my seat, feeling the weight of the manacles around my wrists. Thought of returning to general population where a woman named Mean Jean spent days giving me dirty looks made my head hurt. It was only a matter of time before she would do something, and I’d either end up with another charge added to my list of charges or headed to the hospital. She had about fifty pounds of fat and muscle over me, so my bet was for the latter.

Shaking my head and still in disbelief that any of this was happening, I brought my attention back to our conversation. Not only has my arraignment hearing been thrust to the front of the pack, but the defense is awfully lenient with allowing me an insanity plea. Don’t you find that the least bit suspicious?

He paused. Yes, I do. But it’s not like it’s the first time something like this has happened.

It’s because they want to shut me up. Don’t you get it? I know too much, so it’s easier to call me crazy and be done with it. I’m telling you, I’m not nuts. I’m perfectly sane.

Then you’re going to be fighting a losing battle. He grabbed one of the papers and shook it at me. Seriously, Ms. Frost, have you seen these charges? These are serious enough to get you locked away for the rest of your life. Not to mention the defense is looking to see if they can throw any additional charges your way.

But it’s all fake! They trumped them up.

He searched through another stack of papers until he found one and passed it across the table to me. Do you know what that is? It’s an affidavit from someone in the Czech Republic who says they’ll testify that they received an email from your dead brother. The problem is that the network shows only you logged in at the time from the computer in which that email was sent.

Disgusted, I flung that paper back at him. It’s a lie. I never sent anyone anything, let alone government secrets about a computer defense system.

Irritated, Mr. Flanagan fished out several more papers. There’s dozens of these. Each and every one testifying against you.

And if you can’t see that they’re setting me up, then you’re the one who needs a psychiatric consultation. Maybe I chose the wrong freakin’ lawyer, since you’re already siding with the enemy.

Perplexed, my lawyer leaned back in his seat. I’m here because your distraught parents and your surviving brother hired me. Speaking of which, that’s why it’ll be easy to get away with a ‘mental breakdown due to the loss of a close family member.’

I hated every time he brought them up. My mother was beside herself and my father, a retired member of the Corps of Engineers, was mostly speechless whenever he was around me. Not only did the conspiracy charges affect me, but even my father was now under scrutiny. Dad paid his debts and had the missing leg to prove it.

When they heard about my arrest, they immediately flew out to Boston and were now living in my apartment until things were squared away. My brother Elias wanted to come, but I told him to stay in Tokyo. There wasn’t anything he could do here anyway. Not only that, but as long as he stayed out of the country, he had a certain level of immunity. The second he set foot on American soil, chances were he’d be arrested on trumped-up charges, too.

Mr. Flanagan took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his bulbous nose. The best I can do is get the charges lowered to something like ‘attempted to commit treason,’ since nobody will confirm that Vampire Assembly is the name of a program, let alone can say what it will do, since it’s classified as top secret.

Exactly. I was in a town called Willow Falls, North Carolina. How would I obtain something like that unless I was on a government base to do it?

Hackers don’t have to be, he replied. And given your background in computers, that’s not a far stretch. Trust me, if your brother Ian was alive, he would be facing charges, too.

No, he wouldn’t.

Yes, he would. Unless you know of some mysterious way he could get around the law. And if so, you need to share it with me.

Ian was turned into a skinwalker, meaning he would either escape the charges because of his unique position within Section 51 or someone would’ve killed him before he served one day to keep a secret. Department 51 was going after me because it would do no good to put his corpse in prison for life.

Deciphering my dead brother’s complicated computer programs resulted in a bunch of files being sent to the Vampire Assembly to support the skinwalkers in their quest to prove that they and the rest of the supernatural world were inbred aliens. It sounded insane, but it was the truth. Prior to this major belief-system changer, vampires and werewolves were nothing more than scary stories and movies I had seen on TV. UFOs and aliens were in that same category. Project Solstice, the official name of the project that cannibalized the technology and reengineered it, would change lives throughout the world, if this information were to get into the wrong human hands.

There was only one way out of this. I needed to talk to the defense attorney, since he probably worked for Department 51. As much as I feared going anywhere near those maniacs, they left me with little options. Spend the rest of my life in jail with Mean Jean in my rearview mirror or work out a plea bargain.

I leaned forward, folding my fingers together. Are you going to get me out of here or are you giving up? I need to know, since it’s my life we’re talking about.

He sighed. "We can try for lesser charges, plead insanity, or you can get yourself a new lawyer. I won’t go into a federal court with a not-guilty plea due to faeries and werewolves living in New York. Trust me, Ms. Frost. It’ll be my reputation on the line with some bullshit story like that. So I’ll give you a chance to make up your mind. When you reach a decision, call me."

With that, he packed up his things and left.

*

I sat in my cell for another week before the guard showed up to let me know I had a visitor. I prayed it wasn’t my parents. They didn’t need to see me like this. My mother couldn’t sit through one visit without crying, and my father never failed to let me know how much of a disappointment I was without having to use words. His downtrodden face and inability to look at me for more than a few seconds said enough.

They both wanted me to plead insanity, but I refused. I wasn’t crazy, no matter how senseless my story sounded. What good was it to go from one prison to another where the population was more dangerous than the one I was in now? Elias wanted to press my case, but again, I swore him to secrecy because nobody would believe him any more than they did me.

With my luck, it was probably the psychiatrist that Mr. Flanagan suggested I talk to regardless of my plea. He’d probably find me insane due to some inability to cope with my brother Ian’s death, which was complete bullshit. I coped just fine. I finished what he started, which was help free the skinwalker soldiers who were being tortured by their commander.

I shuffled down the hall, stretching the chains to their max with every step. When we reached the visitor’s room, a man I didn’t recognize sat there, but looked about as stiff as an ironing board with his pressed suit and perfectly aligned tie.

I sat across from him. Who are you and what the fuck do you want?

Good lord. The longer I stayed here, the more hardcore my language had gotten. After a run-in with Mean Jean, where she promptly let me know that my next shower would result in a drowning, I realized that not giving in to her was probably the best way to go. For now,