Mosasaur, the Return: Book Two of the Mosasaur Series

By David D. Holt

James King is back, in this sequel that pits man against beast-again. Flashback: the year is 1973 and the W.A.R facility has deposited highly toxic and radioactive waste on a secret base in central Florida. From the 1960's thru the 1980's, another top secret genetic research facility near Welaka releases hundreds of test subjects into the wild near the toxic dumping ground.
Since 1973, strange wildlife attacks upon humans have taken place; but suddenly stopped in the year 1992 when the first live Mosasaur appeared through a large sink hole and after seven grueling days of death, that first Mosasaur was exterminated but not before leaving something behind-a brood of seven vicious hungry pups!
Eight years have passed and no more attacks upon humans have taken place since that horrible week in 1992, and now only three of the Mosasaur brood remains as they forage for food. The food that they've consumed during the past eight years has been contaminated with toxic and radioactive residues, accelerating their growth rate. Then the attacks begin, first with two fishermen, then a party boat full of people and next three escaped prisoners; the number of dead continue to increase as Putnam County is once again locked down with the US Army, National Guard and countless Law Enforcement officers in a desperate search and destroy mission.
John Jason Robards, the eccentric millionaire and fossil collector is back with a vengeance as he maneuvers his childhood friend the Governor into a plot to capture the killer Mosasaur, for Robards has secretly built a massive habitat to hold the vicious predator. Mr. Robards entices Dr. King into running the facility and thus giving Dr. King full access to the Mosasaur, but only if they can catch it in time before it's too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 23, 2009
• ISBN: 9781467069625

David D. Holt

David D. Holt grew up on science fiction, treasure hunting and a mind for story telling.  David now a disabled navy veteran and former law enforcement officer, he has had numerous articles published by Western & Eastern Treasures Magazine; and has currently written 6 novels, four of which have been self-published:             Fiction: -The Crater  ISBN 1-4208-2831-2 which was published by AuthorHouse Feb 2005  and critiqued by one of my favorite authors Douglas Preston: (Douglas Preston wrote: "Fascinating, heart-pounding...I loved it" --Douglas Preston, author of Tyrannosaur Canyon and The Codex, Co-Author of Brimstone and Relic with Lincoln Child.), -DemeTdron   ISBN 1-4241-1436-5 published by PublishAmerica January 2006 -Underground ISBN 1-4241-2614-2 published by PublishAmerica Feb 1, 2007 -Mosasaur, the Return which is a sequel to "The Crater" published by AuthorHouse Feb 2009. -The Sand ? Project  a CitFis/The Order Novel also to be published by AuthorHouse summer 09 Non-Fiction: -Homesteads, A Relic Hunters Quest) self published 2001, Holt Publications. Short Storys: -Widow's Mite -I have a Dream -Legend of the Bardin Booger -The Grey Rider -The War Continues -Brandy Station, A Civil War Ghost Story -The Hollow -The Vault -The Ghost Ship David is now currently working on his 7th and 8th novels provisionally titled "Ring of Fire" and "2500 A.D." respectively.  David lives near Welaka Florida, residing upon land that was once a part of a forgotten ghost town called Ridgewood where he spends his time writing his books and short stories while raising three children with his wife Terry.  David is available for book signings, interviews or lectures and you may reach him by writing or by email.  Be sure to visit his website www.daviddholt.com for more information and to keep up with news of the Author.

Book preview

© 2009 David D. Holt. All rights reserved.

Cover illustration by: Amanda Maskell

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 1/16/2009

ISBN: 978-1-4389-2597-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-6962-5(ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Author’s Note

1

About the Author

Other Books by the Author

The Crater, Seven Days of Terror in Putnam County

(AuthorHouse Feb 2005) ISBN#1-4208-2831-2

Fascinating, heart-pounding… I loved it — Douglas Preston, author of Tyrannosaur Canyon and The Codex,

Co-Author of Brimstone and Relic

DemeTdron

(PublishAmerica 2006) ISBN#1-4241-1436-5

Underground

(PublishAmerica 2007) ISBN# 1-4241-2614-2

NON-FICTION

Homesteads, a Relic Hunters Quest

Short Stories by the Author

Widow’s Mite

I have a Dream

Legend of the Bardin Booger (formerly titled The Curse of the Bardin Booger)

The Grey Rider

The War Continues

Brandy Station, a Civil War Ghost Story

The Hollow

The Vault

The Ghost Ship

Witch’s & Wizard’s Book 1

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To those people who have helped me with the technical areas of this book and to those for the idea’s and moral support.

My Wife, Terry

My Sons: LJ & Josh

My Daughter: Beka

My Dad

Lannie G. Holt

A special thanks for the artwork of Amanda Maskell.

And last, my readers, I thank you for your commitment to reading and for your support in my continued endeavors, while as my writing grows I hope you will stick with me as I have so much fun writing the stories I like to tell.

Again thank you.

For more information on David’s work, please visit his website: www.daviddholt.com.

First

Configuration

The Late Cretaceous

85 Million years ago

She gingerly pushed her massive hulk with hardly any effort; the four large paddle-like appendages propelling her quickly through the turbulent waters of the inland sea. What would one day become the Gulf of Mexico, but now lay a distant sea, her range took her far and wide, and yet no other predators of her time challenged her.

Not one.

She was Queen.

Today the sea was calm and serene, adding to the quiet tranquility of the morning. Hunger pangs registered in her small brain brought from the network of nerves that ran throughout her body, alerting her to water temperature, sound and smell. Her thick reptilian scaly skin served as body armor to her long streamlined body. The four large paddle-like limbs served two purposes: first as a means of propelling her large body and second as a dangerous club in addition to the large part conical-part-serrated teeth that were housed in her jaws.

She sensed blood in the deep waters off shore. Changing direction, she accelerated; the big paddles biting deep into the water, propelling her body nearly sixty knots underwater. Far behind, in her wash, large eddies boiled to the surface from the powerful strokes of her paddles and tail.

j j j

Carcharodon Megalodon thought of itself as King of the seas with their large size but in reality, they remained second to the greatest marine reptiles the world has ever seen: Tylosaurus or more commonly known as a Mosasaur was not just an expert killing machine but was also an expert stealthy hunter.

Carcharodon Megalodon had stalked the large Plesiosaur for days. The Plesiosaur was old and getting weaker by the day, its big bulky sixty-nine foot girth adding to its demise. The shark, had tracked it for nearly a week, waiting for the right moment to launch its attack. The Meg, knowing that the Plesiosaur was still quite dangerous even though this large Plesiosaur had lived a long life, the shark began its attack.

Carcharodon Megalodon was also another vicious killing machine that was feared by all sea creatures, with an exception of the adult Mosasaur’s who they tended to avoid direct conflict with at all times. Most Megalodon’s never reached more than fifty feet in length, where’ as any Meg would indeed attack any sick or old predator larger than itself on rare occasions, just as this Meg had done.

The Plesiosaur had tried its best to evade the stronger, younger predator, but its age had let it down, it was running out of steam from the constant evading maneuvers for five days. It had had very little to eat, noting that when it stopped to feed, the Meg would close in again, driving it further and further from its known range.

Pure fear was what had driven the Plesiosaur for the past two days after nearly a week of evasive maneuvers, using the bulk of its adrenaline. It neared an underwater cliff facing as it went deeper, the cliff inhabitants were suddenly going into hiding as the large predator approached. It followed the cliff facing hoping to lose the large shark that kept trailing in its wake all this time.

Suddenly as it passed an area shrouded in darkness, the Plesiosaur felt something latch onto its long neck, a tentacle had shot out of a small alcove along the cliff wall and looped around the aging predator. Several other tentacles’s shot out and latched onto the neck just behind the large head but out of range of the razor sharp teeth of the Plesiosaur.

Again panic shot through the Plesiosaur as more tentacles latched onto it, squeezing the neck powerfully. The Plesiosaur tried to shoot upward, only going a few yards, the giant Octopus stopping its ascent. Had the Plesiosaur been younger, nothing could have stopped it from reaching the surface.

The Plesiosaur needed air but the air that had been held for so long seemed to bloat within its lungs, as the Plesiosaur could not expel the air due to the tentacles powerful embrace.

Minutes passed, the Plesiosaur was nearly finished, and the Octopus began dragging the carcass back to its alcove when a giant vibration rattled both Plesiosaur and Octopus. The Plesiosaur knew what was happening, the Megalodon had caught up and attacked both predators.

The Megalodon sensed that the Octopus was trying to steal its long sought dinner, opening its jaws to its fullest, with two rows of nine-inch serrated teeth on both lower and upper jaws.

The Meg slammed into both the Plesiosaur and the Octopus as it latched onto the long neck of the Plesiosaur. Taking a large bite out of the Octopus as well as the Plesiosaur, leaving in its wake as it spun its body, thousands of shards of bloody tissue like the glowing embers of a log dropped at night into a fire.

The water had turned red as death came to the cliff wall.

Spasms of death engulfed both the Plesiosaur and the Octopus as the Meg continued its feeding. Hundreds of pounds of flesh was torn and swallowed whole by the Meg. What was left of the Octopus floated up and away from the kill site as the Meg continued feeding on the large carcass of the Plesiosaur.

Carcharodon Megalodon was so engrossed eviscerating the carcass that it never registered the attack from beneath until it was too late.

For the first time in its life, Carcharodon Megalodon’s nerve center registered the worst pain it had ever felt.

Carcharodon Megalodon tried to flee, but was unable to gain speed as its tail was completely missing nearly up to the dorsal fin.

Carcharodon Megalodon realized at that moment that t was not the ruler of the seas.

Something else was…

Chapter One

1973

The yellow Chevy pickup with the placard DOD (Department of Defense) on the door, had succumbed to the wash-board, rattle-bang-bumpy road as the driver made his way through the forest at just under twelve miles an hour. Tied down in the back were cages on top of cages that held rabbits, raccoons, squirrels, possums, red-tail foxes and several armadillo’s. Each of these animals had been raised in captivity, bred through genetic testing, and was now heading into the final phase of the project.

Sharply turning the vehicle onto a one lane jeep trail that led further into the heart of what one day would become the Welaka State Forest, the driver then headed on a southwesterly course. Minutes later, as the vehicle edged closer to a small but flooded brook that was still waterlogged from recent heavy rains; he expertly shifted into four-wheel drive that would allow the vehicle to push on out to the other side. Shifting into the low gear, the vehicle pushed its way through the little creek, scattering the small minnows in the area in all directions. Climbing out of the creek to the far side, the cages rattled in the back as the front tires fought for traction in the low gear.

This one lane jeep trail, nothing more than a large game trail, rolled on for miles through the dense forest. Arriving at a same spot that was used for animal releasing in the past, the driver did a three-point turn around in the little clearing. After turning the truck around and parking, the driver shut the engine off and got out, leaving the keys in the ignition.

Walking to the back of the truck, he began taking the top row of cages off and setting them down on the ground where he would open the cage allowing the animal imprisoned inside to take off. He watched each one as they either ran or jumped out of the cage and took flight into the forest. He repeated this procedure for each of the cages in the truck bed until every cage was empty.

Looking in the back of the truck, there were several closed containers that held various insects, picking one container up, he walked out into the woods away from the truck several yards before releasing them. Crickets, red and blue grasshoppers and beetles found the freshness of the wild invigorating after their longevity of confinement in the lab as they too soon disappeared into the forest floor.

The other container was also released in the same way, the insects inside reacted the same way as they made their flight to the forest. There was one other container still in the truck behind the rear window which he took out and set upon the ground. The driver then proceeded to reload the cages and containers into the truck, leaving the last container to be placed last. This container was for release in the brook that he’d just crossed several miles back. He would release the contents on his way out. This was not the first time that he had been directed to release the test subjects into the wild. Nor would it be the last.

After all the cages and containers were loaded, Frank got in and started the engine, shifting into gear, he took off at a slow pace. The same crawling pace that he’d taken on the way in. Minutes later he arrived back at the brook, again shifting into four-wheel drive and using low gear, he again crossed the brook trying to stay out of his previous tracks which he did with some difficulty.

Reaching the other side, he stopped the vehicle a short distance from the creek and shut the engine down. Getting out, he walked to the back and picked up the container from the truck bed with a little exertion as it weighed from its contents.

Walking the few paces back to the edge of the muddy brook, he sat the container down and pried the lid off. Inside, swimming in freshly agitated water, were several dozen minnows and crawfish. Tilting the container over, he poured the contents slowly into the creek.

Standing up, Frank could see the green fluorescent streaks that were the characteristics of the genetically engineered minnows as they swam in a group going with the current of the brook.

The crawfish had made a hasty retreat, going underneath the various underwater vegetation or sunken logs that plagued the brook’s bottom until they were out of sight. These crawfish were the exact opposite of the minnows; they went their separate ways versus remaining in a tight group.

Frank stood up, retrieved the container and walked back to the truck where he deposited it in the rear of the pickup and climbed back in the cab of the truck for the short thirty-minute drive back to the research facility. The driver was unaware that the eyes of the forest were always watching his every move, animals from other genetics research that had been released into the forest had always followed behind but remained hidden when the yellow truck that carried them, passed through on its way to the drop off spot.

Arriving back at the facility, the driver pulled up to the rear parking area where the departments boat was loaded and ready for its trip up the Ocklawaha after lunch. Parking the truck next to the boat, he shifted the transmission into park and exited the vehicle while another individual climbed in to hook up the boat trailer to the truck while Frank went inside for a quick bite of lunch.

How’d it go releasing them this time, asked the young man?

Went ok Earl, I watched them as they headed into the woods and disappeared just as if they’d been raised out there, replied the driver.

We should be able to follow most of their movements, Frank, using the infrared dies, the video surveillance and the electronic collars on the animals.

You think so huh Earl?

At least that’s what the bosses think, Earl offered as he hopped in the truck.

Guess so. Gonna go grab a quick bite. You gonna hook up the boat trailer for me, asked Frank?

Sure thing sir, have it hooked up in a jiffy, replied Earl.

Thanks. Back in ten. Frank said as he scanned the cages in the boat filled with animals that were waiting on him.

Frank left Earl to hook up the boat trailer to go inside and eat the lunch he’d brought with him that morning. The morning run had gotten off without a hitch and hopefully the afternoon run up the Ocklawaha would also go off without a hitch he hoped. Maybe he’d take Earl with him on this trip for a companion. Earl had started working at the facility just two months ago, straight out of college with a degree in Bio-Engineering.

Retrieving his lunch from the fridge in his office, he sporadically set the items out on his desk in no random order, quickly opening the sandwich and taking huge bites to satisfy his ravishing appetite. Alternating between the sandwich and the bag of chips, both items disappeared within minutes as he washed it down with a bottled Coke. Reaching for a pink snowball, he ripped open the wrapper, spilling chocolate crumbs over his desk as he took a giant bite. The chocolate cake, cream filled center with a marshmallow and coconut cover lasted less time than the sandwich and chips as he fed his sweet tooth.

Getting up, he grabbed his other Coke and headed back out the door to the waiting truck and boat. He stopped by his subordinates’ office on the way out to let Steve know that he was taking Earl out in the field with him. Kind of a treat for all the hard work that the kids done over the last couple months.

Walking back outside in the heat of the afternoon carrying a small cooler filled with several drinks, he approached the boat where he deposited the cooler.

Hey Earl, want to come out and help me release these?

You mean it Frank? Sure, you bet, thinking, do I need to let Steve know?

No, I already took care of it.

Okay, that’s great! Oh, do I need to bring anything?

Sure, you can bring your cooler with drinks. Have you eaten lunch?

Yes sir, I’ve already eaten. I’ll get my cooler and a couple of drinks from the machine. Be right back.

Ok, I’ll be here waiting. Frank said as he watched the younger worker take off at a trot, disappearing inside the building. He remembered his first months on a new job; he was the same way as this young fellow. Earl had several good traits that Frank had recognized since his employment at the facility. With the on the job training and the college background, he knew that Earl was going places within this type of employment. Several minutes went by before Earl showed back up, depositing his cooler inside the boat and hopping inside the truck on the passenger’s side.

Got everything?

I hope so.

Ok, let’s get rolling. Frank said as he shifted the transmission into drive and accelerated out of the parking lot onto Highway 309 and headed north to the public dock in Welaka on Front Street. Ten minutes later, the boat was in the water, and Frank drove the truck and empty trailer out and up the hill to a parking spot. Locking the doors, he briskly walked back down the hill to the waiting boat that was moored to the dock with Earl standing on the dock holding the bow rope.

Stepping in and sitting in the aft section to operate the motor, Frank took his seat. Earl stepped in as well and pushed the boat off from the dock while Frank engaged the motor and shifting into reverse to back the large power boat out enough to clear the dock. Shifting into forward position, the boat took off suddenly as the prop bit into the water, jerking both Frank and Earl backwards just a bit.

Steering for the open channel of the St. Johns River, there was little talk between the two as Frank steered the boat for the mouth of the Ocklawaha River. Frank was heading to a secluded spot that lies on the Caravelle Ranch land on the north side of the Ocklawaha River that borders the United States Navy Bombing Range. It is here at this second release site that the facility continuously released test subjects into the wild for study. Frank, with a background in Bio-Chemistry and genetics research had been working for the Department of Defense which owned and operated the facility. The tightly guarded genetics research facility was located just south of Welaka, where top secret genetics testing on animals, insects and fish was conducted and then released back into the wild for study. Most test subjects were caught within the confines of the forest; others were raised in a lab environment from an egg. The facility owned nearly twelve thousand acres of woods, mixed with large meadows, springs and brooks that connected to the main river that serviced the county as a source of food and recreational outings.

Frank Dobbs had been project manager there for more than fifteen years, being recruited just months after receiving his degree himself as a young man of twenty-two. Now that he was project manager, he ran the entire Top Secret facility, answering only to his boss inside the Pentagon. Then with defense cutbacks during the early eighties he then began going through a senate appropriations committee in Washington D.C., where funding and materials were supplied including the radioactive isotopes. These isotopes were injected or attached to the test subjects in microscopic amounts.

Most of the subjects never survived outside of three weeks from being released. These studies were necessary to the survival of the human race after a nuclear attack. Radiation was not the only median used in the test subjects, biological and chemical elements were also used. Frank thought of this extensively as he released these animals, fish and insects back into the wild.

Turning the boat and entering the mouth of the Ocklawaha River, Frank slowed down enough to not make any large wakes that would upset any stationary boats that held fishermen fishing. Luckily, the mouth of the river was empty of any human activity as he maintained a slow pace, navigating the winding river channel. The Ocklawaha River, never before had it held such magnificent beauty for those who traversed it. Frank always enjoyed this part of his job, the utter tranquility of the river, here there were no invasions of modernism-no brick buildings, no concrete roads, but most of all no people. As far as he knew, this area hasn’t changed much since the time of the dinosaurs, its lush beauty and serenity were invoking upon him.

Slowing down, he expertly guided the boat through the bends, around fallen trees and up ahead, on his right, he pointed out to Earl that this was where they would turn, going into Matchet Creek. The subjects in the cages and containers made no sound as they waited, watching the scenery float by.

Earl was also taken in by the aura of the river; the forever lasting tranquility seemed to gnaw at him as he gazed from tree to tree, bush to bush as they silently made their way further up this creek that was overshadowed with tall conifers.

Sure is beautiful and quiet isn’t it, asked Earl?

This is why I love coming out here, no where else on earth have I felt this, offered Frank as he guided the boat further up into the upper reaches of the creek. Eventually passing underneath the bridge on Highway 19; getting ever closer to the land that was controlled by the Navy.

Up ahead the creek narrows…it narrows so much that we won’t be able to continue in this. There is a canoe that I stashed, we will transport the cages and containers into it, probably have to make two trips by the looks of this load we’re carrying, Frank said informing Earl as he steadied the boat on its course.

Frank, can I ask you a question-about the job?

Sure, as long as you don’t mention it outside to anyone else.

Why do we release these subjects in the wild?

Pondering an answer to his question, Frank thought for a few seconds before replying, You’ve heard of radioactive fallout from nuclear detonations right?

Yes.

Have you heard how long it takes for say, a deer to succumb to radiation poisoning before death takes over? What we are trying to do is develop a mutated strain of wildlife that can survive with a certain amount of radiation poisoning that would allow Americans to survive in the aftermath of a nuclear war.

How long has this facility been working on this project?

We were secretly commissioned during the Kennedy administration, Frank replied as he steered the boat up to the bank and cut off the engine.

How much longer will this type of work go on here at this facility?

That’s a question that I cannot answer, it depends on who’s in the White House, and the state of the nation, Frank answered as he stood up, stepping over several cages to reach the bow of the boat.

This is it, we have a short walk, that way, Frank said pointing in the direction they were going to traverse. The more you can carry now means less trips back to the boat.

Okay, I can carry four at a time I think, Earl expressed as he stepped over the side of the boat onto the muddy bank.

They both walked as steadily as they could, carrying four cages each. The trail wound through cypress roots and stumps for a short way’s until they came out into an open meadow up on high ground. Setting the cages down, Frank and Earl opened their cages one at a time and watched as the animal within exited the cage, sometimes at a run or often times at a slow pace. After the cages were empty, they walked back to the boat to retrieve another four cages, repeated the same process three more times until all the cages were unloaded.

After stacking the empty cages in the boat, Frank and Earl retrieved the four closed containers that held numerous minnows in each container and released the contents into the creek, several yards from the boat.

Earl replaced the empty containers back inside the boat, while Frank climbed in to take his position to steer the boat.

Once again, Earl untied the boat from the tree this time, stepped in and sat down while grabbing the oar to push them off the bank.

Occasionally, both Frank and Earl would glance back for one last look as they left the area in the boat, heading back the way they had come. Frank would not realize until after nineteen years had passed, that what their research was doing would have a dramatic affect on certain alien species as they inhabited the remote area. The food chain in this area would have a mutatious affect on species that were alien to this land.

Chapter Two

1974

Awyard Lester Rhodes had just received his star from his exploits in Vietnam two months before taking a special assignment at the request of his close childhood friend, President Ford. General Rhodes had been tasked by President Ford to command the new top secret W.A.R facility in Georgia. The W.A.R., an acronym for the Weapons Application and Research Facility, was a unique facility that developed some of the most sophisticated weaponry the world has ever seen. This top secret Department of Defense facility would bring the United States into the 21st century far ahead of its enemies through the technological breakthroughs with the development of the many classified weapons systems they engineered. But with one drawback; the amount of radioactive waste was astonishing so every two years, General Rhodes would have to send a special armed convoy into the heart of Florida and secretly bury drums of radioactive waste on the Naval Bombing range on the Ocklawaha River. By Presidential order, the bombing range, which hadn’t been used since World War II; was formally discontinued at the request of General Rhodes for the W.A.R. program and the property turned over to the general for the new facility as a temporary waste holding facility.

The Major walked briskly through the hall to the Generals office, passing the secretary; he strolled through the doorway and entered the office, closing the door behind him.

Hello Major, how’s it going, replied General Rhodes as he sat at his rotund desk, blankly looking at a computer screen.

Not bad sir, everything’s going according to plan. Just have some last minute items we need to work on.

Such as what William?

Those new fusion reactors that we’ve developed for the new submarine class, we now have ten barrels of radioactive waste. I would like to schedule a delivery to Florida this week General.

Okay, I’ll get it set up and notify you tomorrow. Anything else I can help you with?

Actually no sir, that’s all, the other issue I can take care of my own. I’ll drop by before I leave for Florida, replied the Major as he quietly exited the office.

Major William Clarence King had been on the Generals staff since he received his star. Major King was another of those gung-ho lifers in the military and as such, he and the General got along great together. But only in private, has the General ever been on a first name basis with his second in command.

After the Major exited his office, General Rhodes made several calls, notifying key personnel for the convoy to Florida. Too create less attention to the convoy, General Rhodes always sent no more than five M-35 A1 personnel carriers and two Humvee’s riding escort. All five of the army trucks retained their canvas covering, preventing any unwanted sight-seer’s from getting a good look at their cargo. The route the General had chosen would take them through sparsely populated areas as in the past with previous shipments. Once the trip ticket was initiated, the information and paperwork was given to the Major to call those major Law Enforcement agencies along the route for a heads up. Each personnel carrier would carry ten armed soldiers wearing radiation suits and two barrels of sealed radioactive waste which were kept out of sight and behind the canvas covering the vehicle.

This time, as the General sat in his leather executive chair pouring himself a brandy from the bottle he kept in the desk drawer, he pondered the thought of going down this time to supervise the disposal of the radioactive waste. It’d been a long time since he’d been out of the office and in the field, relishing the idea, he called his secretary in.

Martha, would you come here please.

Yes sir.

A few seconds later a knock was heard on the door.

Come in please.

Yes General, what can I do for you today? Take a letter?

Not this time Martha. I’m going down to Florida with Major King tomorrow, could you notify Captain Dayton to come in today for a quick briefing?

Yes sir, give me just a few minutes, Martha said as she left his office and headed back to hers to locate his number. After searching through the Rolodex, she quickly found it and called the number indicated where she made contact with him repeating the message to him and then hanging up.

Going back into the Generals office, Sir, I have spoken with Captain Dayton and he’ll be in soon.

Thank you Martha.

Watching Martha leave his office, he picked up the phone and dialed the number to Captain Arlan Festa Jane who was stationed at Project Zebra. Project Zebra was the synonym for the secret disposal site in Florida which was manned around the clock.

Captain Jane speaking.

Good morning Captain, this is General Rhodes.

Sir!

"Tomorrow around fifteen hundred