New (Under) Ground: A Blake Waiter Mystery, #3

By Brad Kelln

New (Under) Ground

A Blake Waiter Mystery

By Brad Kelln

(Approximately 78,000 words)

 

Description

Book #3 in the Blake Waiter Mystery series presents a brand new, standalone thrill ride. Full of humor and unexpected twists. You won't be disappointed.

 

Dr. Blake Waiter, a forensic psychologist providing top secret therapy to classified military personnel, would prefer not to have adventures but rarely has a choice. Thankfully, a former client, and U.S. Special Forces giant, Chuck, is frequently around to bail him out.

In this adventure, Blake has finally gotten his life back to normal when it all goes to hell again. He'd recently been reunited with his long lost son, his wife had recovered from PTSD, and his psychology career was going smoothly... then he's yanked onto a new project. When he learns that the space shuttle brought back something mysterious from orbit he'd hoped to have no part. Unfortunately, General Belaire, his direct boss on base, still holds a grudge against him and offered the psychologist's services to help investigate.

 

But this investigation leads Blake, and his ad hoc bodyguard, Chuck, to a top secret U.S. facility buried deep beneath the desert. Somewhere. The secret facility, The Edifice, is staffed by overzealous military, oddball scientists, and more mystery than Blake ever planned to explore.

Meanwhile, a shadowy crew known as the Dead Eyes have finally made their move on Blake and his Artificial Intelligence companion, Talus. The Dead Eyes have been waiting for a chance to steal Talus ever since Blake inherited it from a former patient. This is a problem because Blake is definitely going to need help from Talus this time around.

 

Deep underground, Chuck and Blake are in a struggle to save themselves and possibly the world as we know it.

 

And nothing will ever be the same again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brad Kelln
• Release date: Jul 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781777304508

Brad Kelln

Dr. Brad Kelln is a clinical and forensic psychologist with over 20 years of experience. He has worked in hospitals and private practice for the entire length of his career. In addition to presenting at local, national, and international conferences, he has been qualified, numerous times, to be an expert witness in court proceedings. He also maintains a small, but busy, private practice and regularly consults to law enforcement. Throughout his career, Dr. Kelln has struggled to understand the most difficult and concerning behaviors of others. Never satisfied with existing models of psychology and mental health, he has sought to expand the scope of mental health and make it more accessible and useful to everyone. Over and over his search for answers has led him back to human evolution as a key component of understanding people and ultimately helping people feel better. For years, an evolutionary model has provided him to tools needed to work with a forensic population. When Dr. Kelln turned that evolutionary lens on general mental health and the global epidemic of anxiety a light bulb went off!    Personal Statement from the Author This is the most important thing I’ve written. I truly believe in every word and have lived this model of Quiet Mind for years. I think it is time to share this with the world. The ideas here represent a fundamentally new way of understanding our brains and why they work the way they do. More than that, this book helps get the conversation of change started. We don’t have to be unhappy and anxious any more. Let’s Change how we Think About Thinking.

Book preview

chapter 1

Dr. Rebecca Halliday waited impatiently at the doors to the passenger elevator. She was currently on the level of the underground facility known informally as the Dorms. These were the living quarters including private rooms, eating, and recreational areas for all staff of The Edifice . The Edifice, also an unofficial name, was the military installation located entirely underground in a remote area of the United States. Becky knew there were other such facilities both here and overseas but this was the only one she’d ever been in and she’d been working here for close to five years.

In other words, she’d waited for this elevator to arrive many, many times and yet she continued to dislike the lengthy waiting.

Finally, the elevator arrived and the doors slid open to reveal an empty car. She knew this elevator was one of two that serviced the facility. The other one, nicknamed The Beast¸ was a giant, slow thing meant for bringing down heavy equipment and whatever else the facility required. Single passengers rarely used The Beast because it was inefficient so she boarded the smaller elevator and hit the button for the labs more than a kilometer further down into the Earth.

As the elevator rumbled and began sinking she wondered if she’d misidentified impatience with dread. Maybe it wasn’t so much the waiting for an elevator that irked her as the discomforting feeling of knowing you were going to be so far beneath the surface of the Earth with only one clear exit – these elevators. There were rumours of additional emergency exits from the lower level but she’d never found them.

She brushed her dark hair off her shoulder. One of the strands of her shiny, black hair had wound into her glasses – again. She pulled it free and tucked it behind an ear. Not classically beautiful, and certainly not sexy, Dr. Halliday was also not unattractive. Her darker complexion and slightly almond shaped eyes suggested some Asian heritage but her name was decidedly not. Pushing forty, she was still in great shape and exercised regularly. She always believed that a strong intellect was best complimented by a healthy lifestyle.

She glanced at the digital counter over the elevator doors. Because of the length of the downward trip the display simply had two dashes. It didn’t count down the floors because there weren’t any floors between the living quarters, the Dorms, nearer the surface and the lab areas. That meant the counter blanked out and sat with double dashes for a good part of the trip. That definitely didn’t help disguise the gravity of the journey.

But Rebecca would admit that her anxiety during the elevator ride today was partially tempered by her excitement. She was meeting Dr. John Chowdhury, her science co-lead, to continue a discussion on the most remarkable find – well, ever. That wasn’t an overstatement. If anything, that was downplaying the find and she should know because she’s worked some top secret projects and been witness to some amazing stuff. Everything else she’d been involved with was boring compared to her current assignment.

Like most civilian scientists at this military installation she had multiple degrees including two doctorates. When she’d finished her first PhD in chemical engineering she’d always assumed she’d end up in academics – teaching at some prestigious university.

This was way more cool.

The elevators signalled its arrival on the floor question mark. That was the symbol that came up on the digital display. Some joker had programmed the question mark as the floor name. It was supposed to be Level A but no one ever bothered to change the elevator programming.

Everyone at the base called the subterranean complex the Newark Terminal, or NT, for short. They’d been calling it that since before she arrived and recently someone had explained the origins to her. Apparently someone had suggested that they were as likely to find crazy, unexplainable shit here as in the highly travelled, Newark Airport Terminal. And the zombie passengers wandering the halls of the airport weren’t a bad analogy to many of the staff around here either.

She stepped out of the elevator into the cool, temperature and air-controlled stark hallway of the NT. This part of the facility stretched out in multiple directions with various research rooms sealed behind triple locked doors. Even though there were multiple floors to this underground area, the smaller passenger elevator only had one terminus. Once you were down here you were expected to use stairs. You could use the giant cargo elevator but it was slow and it didn’t make sense to call it, from sometimes a kilometer away, just to transport you up or down a level.

Now that she was in NT, Dr. Halliday still had to go down a few flights of stairs in order to get to her final destination: the observation lab. It was no easy feat getting anywhere in this underground labyrinth. The Observation Lab 4x (O4X) was one of rooms designed specifically to oversee operations for any materials requiring a highly secure containment area. You could put anything from a raging elephant to a highly toxic virus in the containment room and then observe it, poke it, play with it, or whatever, from the attached observation room. The modular set-up of the containment room meant that it would adapt to any configuration you needed. Right now it was a freezer.

She entered a numeric code and used a retinal scan and the lab door hissed open. Dr. John Chowdhury was already inside. He turned, arms folded across his chest, to acknowledge her. He’d obviously been standing, staring through the Plexiglas window into the containment room. The window was frosted on the edges betraying the sub-zero temperatures within. Good morning Dr. Halliday, he said with no hint of an accent.

Hi John, Rebecca said as she pressed a button to close the lab door behind her. How’s the ice cube?

John Chowdhury, in his mid-forties, was a stately man of East Indian origins. His dark hair had slight signs of grey and he had a way of looking at you, with an intensity that made even confident people insecure. He smiled at Rebecca with genuine affection. I continue to wait my eventual rousing at which point I will realize this was a dream.

You and me both.

John adjusted a dial on a large panel of instrumentation and numbers scrolled down the Plexiglas window. The window served the dual purpose of being both a portal to the containment area and a monitor. See for yourself, he gestured at the numbers before he reached in a large pocket of his lab coat to retrieve a small bottle of hand wash. He dropped a dab in a palm before returning the bottle to his coat. John rubbed his hand together in a motion that almost looked like a nervous tick.

Rebecca approached the monitor and read the numbers. Heart rate, temperature, blood pressure, she mumbled almost inaudibly before shaking her head. That’s just... she faded off, at a loss for words.

Unbelievable? John offered.

Yes, she agreed.

The two of them were staring into the room dominated by a large chunk of ice – about the size of a small car. The outside of the ice was rough and irregular. It was difficult, but not impossible, to see into the middle. A vague, light coloured blob was visible at the center.

A hiss behind them signaled the lab door had opened again. A man in full military dress swept in with a uniformed soldier right behind. Curiously, the soldier kept a hand on a gun attached to his hip. It was a sight that had become familiar to John and Rebecca as the Major General, David Timmons, was paranoid and, for whatever reason, seemed to expect the facility to go to hell at any second. He always kept a soldier lackey nearby.

What’s the update? the older man barked. His face was a reddened, wrinkled mass that made him seem far older than his late fifties. Stress, military life, and hard-drinking often aged a man prematurely.

Good morning Major General, Rebecca said, smiling.

He ignored her. What are we doing with that thing? He nodded toward the containment room. I don’t like it being here. There’s enough shit going on around here without that ice cube.

We’ve finished all the tests we can do with the object in its current state, John said.

Meaning what? the Major General snapped back.

We’re going to melt it, Rebecca said and almost cringed in anticipation of the response.

YOU’RE GOING TO WHAT?

It’s the next step, John pushed on. There’s no better facility in the world and we need to find out what’s inside that ice.

What happened to the facial recognition crap you were going on about?

Rebecca nodded. It was inconclusive. Either he’s not on any database or the interference from the ice makes it impossible to accurately scan him.

So we don’t know where this thing comes from?

Their silence answered him.

And he could be a spy? the Major said without a hint of sarcasm.

Rebecca and John resisted any kind of laughter and furiously tried not to look at each other. Major, Rebecca started, I doubt any country would freeze someone in a block of ice and jettison them into orbit just hoping that the US picks them up, thaws them, and thus allows them access to our secure facility.

The Major General strode over to the window to stare in. So you’re going to melt this thing?

It’s not really a thing, John retorted. There’s definitely a man inside that block of ice and it’s time we got a better look at him.

The room was silent for a moment before the general pivoted and walked back to the door. Just as he exited he barked over his shoulder. Proceed with the melting. This better not come back to haunt me.

And the door hissed shut.

chapter 2

Rebecca had immediately grown tired of saying, Excuse me.

O4X, the observation room, had filled with military personnel thirty minutes before the thawing process was set to begin. Primarily, it was security but the Major General had brought a couple of ranking officers with him too. Lab personnel had taken to calling these ranking officers Upper Brass. They formed a small cadre of officers who generally stayed put nearer the surface in the Dorms but were charged with overseeing the operations a kilometer beneath them. Hence, they were Upper Brass – a name not entirely meant to be complimentary.

Obviously, the Major General thought the thawing of the ice was a prestigious enough event that he invited members of the Upper Brass to make the long trek to the labs to witness it. All that meant for the actual working scientists was too many bodies for the space allowed.

John caught Rebecca’s attention and lifted his eyebrows while adding a shrug. She knew he was annoyed by all the extra bodies too.

The extra bodies included the civilian technician, Chad Glauben. He’d been assigned to the project a few weeks ago – some whiz kid, now in his early thirties, who helped with all the systems. Shaggy, unkempt red hair and always eager to help – he was generally an asset to the team except for his tendency to interject at inopportune times.

All biological readings are stable, Rebecca started, and the environment...

Chad cut her off, triple checked and secured. Nothing’s coming out of there. He didn’t even look up from his computer terminal. Recording procedures confirmed and auto temp controls responding. Ice weight remains stable at 2650.43 kilos.

One of the upper brass mumbled a question about how much that was in pounds illustrating the degree of scientific illiteracy the presiding officers brought to the table.

It’s about 6000 pounds, Chad shot back immediately without turning from his computer terminal.

John and Rebecca shared another look over their eager technician before John tapped a button on his keyboard. "As Glen Frey would say, The Heat is On."

Rebecca knew that was a reference to some 1980s song from John’s teenage years because he said shit like that all the time. I have no idea who that is, she said – her standard reply even though it wasn’t always true.

You are a musical neophyte, he smirked back, quietly.

She returned his smile and then they both refocused on the monitors. Shortly she felt another body move in next to her.

Excuse me, the Major General interrupted loudly as he loosely pointed at the Plexiglas and equipment panels. What’s our ETA on this... His voice trailed off.

Well we have about six feet of ice that came in pretty close to absolute zero. We’ve maintained the room at minus 20 degrees Celsius to avoid negatively impacting the ice integrity. As a result, we need to melt it in a few steps. The first step is to slowly bring the ice up to about zero degrees Celsius, reconfirm the integrity, and then begin a melting process while siphoning off the water.

The Major stared at her for a moment and then turned to John. How long until we have that man out of the ice?

Couple of days, Chad answered quickly.

A murmur went through the audience.

Then what am I doing down here? the Major barked and then spewed out, Why don’t we just microwave this ice cube or something? Two days? Jesus H!

We can’t do it any faster, Chad blurted.

If we don’t manage a very controlled thaw there’s a real risk of sacrificing the integrity of the block, Rebecca started again but paused, searching for another way to highlight the risk in terms her audience would appreciate. If we warm it too quickly it’s likely to crack. Parts of the block might thaw more quickly than others, because water changes size as it unfreezes, and it might crack tearing the man in half.

He didn’t like the answer but the Major General accepted it. He turned back to the security and upper brass. It’s going to take a while. Show’s over. That got some of them moving. He turned to one of the security, You’re staying. I want 24-hour security here.

The soldier nodded.

And then the room emptied out leaving just John, Rebecca, Chad, and the lone security officer. They were all silent for another beat and then the soldier spoke, Is it really going to take two days to melt some ice?

Temperature minus nineteen point nine five. The room is warming, Chad announced.

Rebecca watched a monitor that showed a 3-D representation of the block of ice with precise temperature readings all around it. The block was being constantly monitored through an elaborate series of laser readings that had mostly been arranged by Chad in the last few days.

We’ll bring it to zero and then we’ll let it settle, John started. We’ll make sure we’re static at zero and then the fun begins.

He’s a Russian, isn’t he? Chad said, turning away from his computer for the first time. I mean that’s the only thing that makes sense. The Russian’s lost someone out of the space station and just didn’t tell anyone because they’re embarrassed.

Rebecca shook her head. I doubt it. There’s no reports of a loss and when there’s only a few people on the space station to begin with it’s pretty hard to lose someone.

How else does someone end up in orbit? They had to be flown out there by someone – by some country, Chad continued.

And if he were a Russian cosmonaut, or from anyone else’s space program, it doesn’t explain why he’s naked, John said.

Or how he ended up alive inside a giant block of ice, Rebecca finished.

They were all silent.

The soldier near the door spoke again. What makes you so sure he’s human?

Chad immediately laughed at the suggestion.

Rebecca had been down this road with Chad recently and had no interest in revisiting it. Chad was fiercely religious and any suggestion of other-worldly options for the man in the ice sent him off. She wanted to avert another tirade from him. Let’s just hold off on the speculations about the guy’s origins until we get him out of the ice.

Chad glared back at the officer for another moment and then spun back to his computer. Under his breath he muttered, Not human? He’s hardly a little green man.

But John and Rebecca had not eliminated that theory from their own list of possibilities – not by a long shot.

chapter 3

Rebecca felt panic and fear. The room she stood in was completely bare – no furniture, light fixtures, or even windows.

And no door.

Empty.

She opened her mouth to scream but she’d lost her voice too. She could feel her breath heaving and knew she’d soon hyperventilate. She would pass out if she didn’t get this under control. She would pass out just like in elementary school that time when she was forced to do her Grade Five presentation in front of the whole class. She would pass out and then wet her pants and everyone would laugh.

But not this time. She consciously slowed her breathing. She told herself that if she had entered into this room then there had to be an entrance which meant there was also an exit.

She scoured the walls with her eyes and began a slow circle around the small space. As she neared the wall she noticed something else. The walls weren’t solid. They were made up of little dots pressed together tightly but not so tightly she couldn’t see through them. She tried to press a finger into the gaps but couldn’t. She kept moving.

Along one wall she found a little rectangular space – it was too even and regular to be a mistake of the workmanship. It was like the little slot on a prison cell door where they pass the meals through. She crouched slightly to align her eyes with it and looked out. Behind it was just emptiness – space. Outer space? Maybe.

She scanned the emptiness and found a small blue marble. No. Not a marble. It was blue, and green, and white. It was the Earth.

That didn’t make sense though. She was already on the Earth.

As she stared at the blue dot it grew in size. It was definitely the Earth but it wasn’t complete either. Just like the walls of this room – it was...pixelated...incomplete.

And it was still coming towards her. Faster and faster. It was coming straight towards her and soon it was blocking out everything else.

It was going to crush her.

She was going to die.

Alarms started to sound. Piercing, electronic horns signalling the end of everything. She wanted to scream. She wanted this to be a nightmare so she could just wake up.

Wait a minute. This was a nightmare.

The sirens wailed and she knew she wasn’t going to die – she just needed to open her eyes and wake up. So she opened her eyes but the alarms didn’t stop.

REBECCA LIFTED HER head from her folded arms on the console. She’d fallen asleep in the observation room. A watch soldier was shaking her shoulder and saying something.

She blinked and sat up. The siren was real and it was singing throughout the small space of the observation room.

What’s going on? the soldier was squawking. What’s that alarm?

She shook his hand off her. Give me a minute. She pushed away from the console and rolled to another terminal where flashing red letters were visible. She tapped a few keys and the alarm went silent. After a moment of reading the screen she popped abruptly to her feet. Fuck. What time is it?

The soldier looked at his watch. It’s like three am.

Fuck, Rebecca said again and lurched the few steps to the Plexiglas window. It’s early.

I know, the soldier spat back. I got the middle of the night shift.

No, she screamed back at him. I don’t mean what time it is. I mean it’s too early for the block of ice. It’s finished melting. It’s too soon! She grabbed a phone off the console and hit a quick dial button. While she listened to the ringing she reached for another lever and slowly raised the light level in the containment room.

Yeah, John’s groggy voice answered over the phone.

The ice is gone. Get down here, she snapped and hung up the phone.

Rebecca leaned forward to look into the containment room, dreading what she might see. If they miscalculated the warming temperature and the ice fractured, it wouldn’t be pretty. It should be melting for another six hours – minimum. Something went wrong.

Inside the containment room was a body – intact – of a man. He lay in a pool of water, naked. Water continued to lazily run towards grates in the floor where it collected below in secure storage tanks.

IT TOOK JOHN AT LEAST twenty minutes to arrive at the observation deck next to Rebecca. Probably ten minutes of that was elevator time from the Dorms to the NT.

Rebecca and the soldier had spent most of that time staring at the naked man. He lay on his side, his top leg bent and drawn up a little and his head resting on his arm. It was actually pretty close to the perfect Recovery Position that you learn about in CPR class.

John was breathing heavy as he took a spot next to her. Chad arrived shortly after him and took up a spot on her other side. John must have called him because she forgot to.

Updates? he said quietly as he joined the staring party.

Room temp is three degrees and rising. It’s set to eighteen degrees.

Biometrics? John asked. You could hear the tension in the question.

Heart rate fifty-five bpm. Blood pressure and respiration normal – like a guy coming out of a coma, Rebecca answered almost dreamily.

He’s alive, Chad said.

He’s alive, Rebecca reiterated.

I’m going in, John announced. As the only one on the team with a medical degree he was going to get first contact.

chapter 4

Days later, Rebecca , John, and Chad (and, of course, the ever present military guard) were once again standing looking through Plexiglas only this time it was a much different scene inside the containment room. Instead of the stark bare walls of the room that had previously served as a deep freeze and then a warming oven – the room was now converted entirely to resemble a bachelor apartment.

Well, not really.

There was a small table and chairs, a couch, a single bed in the back, a TV on the wall, a small fridge, etc. but on the periphery of the room the stark grey walls, floor, and ceiling were dead giveaways of the room’s previous function of containing hazardous material (or entities).

And sitting calmly on the couch was a man. The individual was Caucasian with dark brown hair – probably in