Santana Meets Santa

By Steve Hammons

Santana, the gray and cream colored Chihuahua mix will experience many exciting adventures in his lifetime, but this one is his most magical. He and Auntie Jennie and Uncle Curtis will share a very special and loving Christmas with their family and included in this wonderful holiday book, Santana will share a secret moment with Santa. Join Santana as he meets Santa and discovers what a loving family really is, and the true meaning of Christmas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483606590

Steve Hammons

Jennifer Dunagan is a retired teacher. She lives near Atlanta with her husband, Curtis and two adorable dogs, Santana and Bosco. The first book in the series was AUNTIE JENNIE'S PUPPY: THE ADVENTURES of SANTANA. The second was SANTANA'S HARROWING HALLOWEEN. Her next book will be SANTANA and CALLIE THE CALICO CAT. Her illustrator is her son, Eric Strange who also illustrated her first book.

Book preview

MlSSION INTO LlGHT

Steve Hammons

Writers Club Press

San Jose New York Lincoln Shanghai

Mission Into Light

All Rights Reserved © 2002 by Steve Hammons

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

Writers Club Press an imprint of iUniverse, Inc.

For information address:

iUniverse, Inc.

5220 S. 16th St., Suite 200

Lincoln, NE 68512 www.iuniverse.com

ISBN: 0-595-15434-4

ISBN: 978-1-4697-3476-7 (ebook)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

C H A P T E R 1

C H A P T E R 2

JOINT RECONNAISSANCE STUDY GROUP

C H A P T E R 3

C H A P T E R 4

C H A P T E R 5

C H A P T E R 6

C H A P T E R 7

C H A P T E R 8

C H A P T E R 9

C H A P T E R 1 O :

C H A P T E R 1 1

C H A P T E R 1 2

C H A P T E R 1 3

C H A P T E R 1 4

C H A P T E R 1 5

C H A P T E R 1 6

C H A P T E R 1 7

C H A P T E R 1 8

C H A P T E R 1 9

C H A P T E R 2 O

C H A P T E R 2 1

C H A P T E R 2 2

C H A P T E R 2 3

C H A P T E R 2 4

C H A P T E R 1

SAN DlEGO

Hello, Mister Green? This is Colonel Tom O’Brien calling from San Diego. I know your uncle, Colonel Jack Allen.

What can I do for you colonel? Mike Green had not heard from his Uncle Jack for over a year. Jack was a career Army officer who had been in the Special Forces since Vietnam.

"I’d like to talk with you about a job opportunity. Jack says you might be interested in our research program. We’ve got an opening for a research associate in a project here in San Diego.

Who is ‘we’ colonel?

Mike Green would soon learn that the we included several women and men who would change his life.

Well, Mike, I’m Air Force. Other folks on the team are from different branches and from civilian agencies. We’re sort of a joint-service, joint-agency think tank. They’re calling us the ‘Joint Reconnaissance Study Group.’ Right now we’re based in San Diego. And we’re planning on developing a second office in southern Arizona.

Sounds interesting colonel. What kind of research are we talking about. And what’s the pay?

The thing is Mike, we’re, uh, kind of an unconventional operations group. We’re looking into a few different kinds of unusual phenomena. O’Brien had to phrase this carefully.

I think you’ll find the pay very fair, double what you’re making now, but this program is sort of ‘off the books’ if you know what I mean.

Mike knew about so-called black or secret activities. Uncle Jack had told him of such programs.

The important thing here, Mike, is that our project is for the good of the United States of America, for our people, and for the whole human race, we hope. O’Brien thought that would hook him.

What exactly are you researching, colonel?

Well, like I said, ‘unusual phenomena’. I can’t tell you too much until you’re on board with us Mike. It’s all on a ‘need-to-know’ basis.

It sounds interesting. Let me ask you this. Is this project dangerous in any way?

We really don’t anticipate anything like that, Mike. This is an information gathering and research report writing project that will be conducted on U.S. soil. As a matter of fact, some of it would be in the Arizona area.

Can’t you tell me a little more about what you’re researching, Colonel O’Brien? Mike was open-minded,

but skeptical of the Pentagon. He learned that skepticism from his uncle.

Mike, this is confidential. You understand?

Yes, sir.

We’re looking into UFOs, ESP, unusual physics, religious and spiritual issues, genetics, and Native American history and culture, and the ways they affect the national security of the United States.

Are these things connected? I don’t understand the national security part of this.

I can’t be more specific, Mike.

When would you need me, colonel?

We’d like to get you briefed and oriented in San Diego as soon as possible. Is that a ‘yes’?

Well, I’m bored stiff in my job here. I’m usually broke after paying my bills. I like living here in Phoenix, but I guess I am ready for a change. Okay colonel, it’s a deal.

When can you be in San Diego, Mike?

I’ll give my boss two weeks notice. How about three weeks?

Great. Welcome aboard, Mike. I think you’ll find we take good care of our people on this team. We’ve taken the liberty of checking you out for security clearances. Other than a few rough points from your reckless youth, there shouldn’t be a problem.

Tom O’Brien was used to success and used to getting the resources he needed. He was putting together a team that would get answers and accomplish a mission he was just beginning to understand.

My assistant is Lieutenant Amy Mella. She’ll be your contact person for any other details. I’ll be in Washington for about ten days. If you have any questions, call her.

Okay. you said you were going to start a second office in Arizona?

That’s right. At Fort Huachuca, down near Tucson. It’s a major Army intelligence training center. We plan on conducting a fair amount of research in Arizona.

Good. Mike was glad he wouldn’t be far from home. He could keep his apartment in Phoenix.

Colonel, what’s in Arizona that is part of this thing?

Sedona for one thing. Something’s going on up there and we don’t know what. We’ve also received reports of some usual things going on up around the ‘Four Corners’ area, on some of the Indian lands.

We’re going to be spying on Indians, colonel?

That’s not it Mike. This is strictly a scientific inquiry. We’re not spying on anybody.

I still don’t understand how Arizona Indians, UFOs, ESP, genetics, and physics have anything in common, colonel.

That’s what we’re going to find out. That’s your new job, Mike.

How long will this project last?

You’ll have a job for at least twenty-four months. After that, some aspects are likely to continue. We’ll follow-up on the areas that bear fruit and pan-out.

Pan-out?

Frankly, by then we hope to see a breakthrough of some kind. This is really one of the more, uh, sensitive aspects of the research, Mike. We anticipate some kind of phenomena that will, well, let us know we’re on the right track.

You’re being vague again, Colonel O’Brien.

Mike, we have intelligence and research information, reconnaissance really, that some kind of ‘miracle’ may be on the horizon.

Like the ‘Expect a Miracle’ bumper stickers? Mike chuckled.

Yes. But we don’t know exactly what to expect. How it will take place. How physics and Nature might manifest certain changes. And who and what might be involved, and how.

You’re serious aren’t you, sir? Mike wasn’t laughing.

You bet. We have to be ready for any contingency to maintain national security and the integrity of the United States of America, Mike.

Tom O’Brien had become more serious and now lowered his voice.

Mike, all this is on a ‘need-to-know’ basis. Don’t talk about this with anybody right now. We have to insist on strict confidentiality and security.

I understand. We never had this conversation, right?

Your Uncle Jack taught you well.

O’Brien now returned to his warm and almost jovial manner.

You can talk with Jack about this. He’s got the right clearance level and he’s worked on this kind of thing before. He’s helping us out on our current project.

I think I should get in touch with him.

Good. Jack and I go way back. Back to ‘Nam. Well, Mike, like I said, call Lieutenant Mella at my office in San Diego if you need to. We’ll see you in three weeks.

After O’Brien hung up Mike slowly put down his phone. Well, this sounded good. Out of the blue. Good pay, a little travel. It had been a few years since Mike visited San Diego. Beautiful town.

Maybe he could contribute something to this group. He’d been around and had collected some useful skills.

What he didn’t know was that ifTom O’Brien had told him the real, deep truths of this operation, Mike might have frozen, choked, chickened-out. But then, he didn’t

have a need to know. Not yet.

* * *

Three weeks later, the Sonoran Desert stretched out in front of Mike as he drove his pickup truck west toward San Diego. The saguaro cactus could be seen on the desert plains and on the hills and mountains along Interstate-8 on this bright, sunny day.

Mike knew that the saguaro lived in only one area of the Earth, the Sonoran Desert of southern Arizona, far southeastern California, and northwestern Mexico.

As he drove west toward Yuma, he knew he would be leaving the Sonoran Desert soon. Yuma, on the Colorado River, marked his of crossing out of Arizona into California.

The air was hot and dry, the way he liked it. He had his truck windows open, and the radio blaring. He’d change the radio dial as he left the range of Phoenix stations, and eventually even the stronger stations became static and faded out.

The call from Colonel O’Brien had been a welcome rescue from a content, but boring existence for Mike in Phoenix. Not only that, Mike was not at all satisfied with his financial situation. Or his professional status either, for that matter.

He was forty-seven, single, and rarely had more than a few thousand dollars in the bank at any one time. He rented an apartment near Arizona State University in Tempe and dated a few different women as the mood hit him.

When he was younger, in his twenties, he was full of optimism and a sense of mission. He learned that attitude from his Uncle Jack. A sense of mission helped Mike get through some rough times in the seventies and eighties.

The nineties had brought him a sense of stability, he felt. Phoenix and the Sonoran desert had been good to him and for him. Constant sunshine and blue skies helped his moods. The superheated bone-dry air eased the pains of forty-seven years of banging up his body.

Mike had gotten an early start leaving Phoenix and Yuma passed by at about noon. He planned to be in San Diego by supper. As he crossed the green, irrigated agricultural fields of California’s Imperial Valley, he saw horses, cows, and sheep graze contentedly in lush pastures.

On the west side of the Imperial Valley, the green again turned to the brown, rocky desert terrain, spotted with desert plants and cactus.

The temperature cooled as Mike headed up the mountains and then through the pine forests of eastern San Diego county hill country and the Laguna Mountains. He stopped for gas in one of the small mountain communities near the crest.

Two more hours and he’d be at the Pacific Ocean. It had been five years or more since he was in San Diego. Five years since salt air and the sound of the waves. Since surfers, sailboats, scuba divers, bikinis, and the sun going down over the Pacific.

The drive provided an opportunity to reflect and meditate on where he had been and where he was going in his life. More than twenty-five years ago he was facing the possibility of going to Vietnam and trying to get through college.

Uncle Jack had been in Vietnam for two years. Jack had explained his Vietnam experiences to Mike, because Mike had a need to know, Jack said.

As a young adult, Mike had respected his uncle. While Mike was still in high school, Jack was doing God-knows- what in Vietnam.

And now, Jack was apparently a player in the research project Colonel O’Brien had recruited Mike for.

As the outskirts of San Diego came into view, Mike felt a strange mix of calmness and excitement about his new job. After all, O’Brien had recruited him because he had a good background in skills and experience they needed, right? Uncle Jack must have put in a good word for him. And O’Brien’s people obviously had checked out Mike’s background thoroughly for security clearances.

When another half-hour passed on I-8, Mike could smell salt air, and feel the increased moisture. He’d decided to drive to the beach first and headed for his old neighborhood in the community of Pacific Beach.

He heard the waves breaking before he stepped out of the truck. An ocean breeze blew on-shore and cooled the late afternoon sun.

Joggers ran by on the boardwalk, a city lifeguard truck patrolled on the sand, and surfers sat patiently on their boards thirty yards out, waiting for a good wave.

Mike was supposed to check in at the bachelor officers’ quarters at Point Loma, near the many Navy bases and facilities on San Diego Bay. That could wait. For now, he would drink a beer at a boardwalk cafe and watch the sun go down over the Pacific.

The daily gathering of San Diegans for this ritual had already begun. Couples of all ages, kids on skateboards, people in business clothes after the workday, all stood or sat on the boardwalk wall, staring west.

As it did almost every day, the sun turned from yellow- white to orange, to red, and slipped quietly beneath the sliver of clouds at the Pacific’s horizon.

Mike finished off his second beer and walked slowly to his truck. He headed toward the motel-like BOQ where a room had been reserved for him.

Although Mike was not a military officer like the other guests, Colonel O’Brien had made it clear that the project was a Defense Department show, and they would be making full use of DoD facilities and resources.

After checking in to a second-story room, Mike took a shower and called the number O’Brien had given him.

A woman’s voice answered, Joint Reconnaissance Study Group, Captain Mella speaking.

This is Mike Green, Colonel O’Brien asked me to call when I got into San Diego.

Right, Mike. Did you just get in?

About two hours ago. I’m checked in at the BOQ now.

Great. Our office is a couple of miles away, out on Point Loma a little further. Why don’t you come on over? The colonel is still in Washington.

OK, give me directions. And I thought you were a lieutenant.

My promotion came through last week, Mike. I’ll expect the proper awe of my high rank, she laughed.

It was almost dark when Mike reached the gate of Naval Ocean Systems Center base on the Point Loma peninsula. A security officer approached and waved him through when Mike gave his name and destination, Joint Reconnaissance Study Group.

C H A P T E R 2

JOINT RECONNAISSANCE STUDY

GROUP

Mike parked his truck near a one-story wooden building marked only by a number. It was a World War Two-era structure like many of the Navy buildings in San Diego.

The eastern slope of the Point Loma peninsula looked over San Diego Bay, downtown San Diego, and Coronado Island. Although it was dark, the lights of the city, boats, and Navy ships made quite a view. It was seven o’clock and the base was quiet.

Further down Point Loma was a national cemetery and Cabrillo National Monument, Mike knew. The monument area included a small park and lighthouse on the tip of Point Loma. A must for tourists, the view stretched to the Mexican border.

He stepped into the building and found several government-issue desks, all empty.

Hello, anybody here?

Is that you Mike? the voice from the phone called out.

Yeah. He tried to figure out the direction of the voice.

A woman rounded the corner from a hallway. She wore blue jeans and a loud Hawaiian print shirt. As she approached him she stuck out her hand.

I’m Amy Mella. Welcome aboard Mike.

Congratulations on your promotion, captain.

"Thanks Mike, I appreciate it. I’ve been in the Air Force for a while, so it was about time. I can use the extra

pay."

Mella had shoulder-length brown hair and a dark tan, Mike noticed.

When do I start work, captain?

First, call me Amy. We don’t use a lot of military protocol here, unless we have to, she laughed softly.

You’ll see some of our team in uniform at times, she explained. We also operate in our civies. Since we’re a joint-service project, we’ve got Colonel O’Brien and me from Air Force, and people from the other services. We’re working with a lot of Navy folks here in San Diego.

Well, Amy, what exactly is my job?

It had dawned on Mike that he had quit his old job, driven eight hours to another city, and didn’t exactly know what he was getting into.

We all have our own areas of investigation Mike. Right now, the plan is to develop three, three-person research teams.

Amy explained that she was part of the first team that had been formed two months earlier.

"I’m on a team with two Navy guys. We’ve been looking at the Navy’s dolphin research project here at the Point Loma site.