VANISHED: A Mystery Novel of the NSIU (Navy Special Investigation Unit)

By Richard B. Christie

At an unusual Wednesday morning briefing, a request was made by the Department of Defense (DOD) asking the Navy Special Investigation Unit (NSIU) to open a search into the strange disappearance of a top U. S. weapons scientist. When the NSIU investigators looked into it, they found he had been working on a very special l

• Language: English
• Publisher: Writers Branding LLC
• Release date: Dec 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781639453009

Richard B. Christie

For almost fifty years, Richard B. Christie owned and operated a technical engineering company. He performed specialized environmental testing and adjustments to both industrial-grade air conditioning and high-performance sterile air filtration systems used in hospitals, pharmaceutical facilities, and research laboratories; that included special areas where high-class clean rooms were required, such as surgeries, sterile manufacturing suites, and testing facilities. At home, most Winter weekends, he was an active volunteer member of the National Ski Patrol and a Certified Ski Patroller at a major Vermont Ski area. He was trained in remote mountain rescue procedures and advanced first aid.

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Chapter One

Wednesday, 15 May 2019

NSIU Headquarters

Washington, DC

Chief Petty Officer Paul DeNice took his time this morning getting to work. There wasn’t anything scheduled for him that had to be done right away, so he had walked the twelve blocks from his apartment to the office rather than taking the bus. There was a fresh breath of spring air, and the temperature was a delightful seventy degrees. Passing by a small coffee shop, the thought of relaxing with a nice hot cup of ‘Joe’ was more than he could resist.

After stepping inside and waiting in the short line, the smell of freshly baked donuts, added to that of the coffee, finished him off; he wanted both. Behind the counter, the young teenage girl smiled at him as he stepped up, and she took his order.

Several minutes later, he was sitting outside at one of the three tables set up for the shop’s customers. He had taken just one bite of the donut, and a sip of the coffee, when a very familiar voice behind him said: OK, you got yours, where is mine?

A smiling Linda DeSanto sat down next to him, placed her coffee cup on the table, then reached over, and removed the donut from his hand; she then broke it in half and gave him back the part he had already bit into. She sat back and took a big bite from the other half of the donut she had stolen from him.

Oh my goodness, that is sinfully delicious, she said; It’s not like you to start the day off so early with just donuts and coffee; aren’t we going to work today?

Paul, giving in to the theft of half of his breakfast, said: I was going to enjoy this very nice spring morning, and now you come along and remind me that I have to go to work.

Linda said: Why don’t you call in sick and take the day off; I’ll even do the same thing and join you! Just think of all the fun we could have.

Paul choking down a laugh, replied: Even though I am in civilian clothes, I am still in the Navy, and you know, just how well that would go over. You, on the other hand, are a civilian employee, and that gives you much more latitude in such things, like goofing off from work.

Linda responded: "I believe if we both walked into the Admiral’s office and told him that we had just decided to take the day off, he would quietly look at both of us and insist that he come along too.

At which point we, together, would realize that there will be some work that has to be done, and we would thus be in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

Paul said: I think we need to forget this idea and head to the office.

Paul and Linda had been working together on several detailed projects for over a year. At thirty-three years of age, Linda was an ex-sergeant in the Vermont State Police (VTSP).

At thirty-four years old, Paul was a trained Navy Seal; but at that time, he had been on inactive Naval Reserve duty for a couple of years. He had worked during the winter as a civilian Ski Patroller at a major Vermont Ski area, but when a murdered man’s dead body was discovered on the mountain where he was working, everything changed.

The resulting investigation quickly became a federal case and went international, far and wide. It resulted in Paul agreeing to be reactivated back into the regular Navy, at his old station, the ‘Navy Special Investigation Unit’ (NSIU), in Washington, DC.

Linda and the VTSP were a valuable asset to Vermont’s portion of the ensuing federal investigation. At the end of the case, when everything got resolved, she was offered, and accepted, a Navy civilian contract employee position as an investigator for the NSIU. She has been there in Washington, DC, ever since.

Twenty minutes later, they both walked into NSIU headquarters together and headed to their respective offices.

Paul had sat at his desk and begun to leaf through some files that had been placed there for his review; when yeomen Susan Gordon knocked on his door to tell him that there would be a 10:00 AM briefing in the second-floor conference room.

Thanking her, he sat back and wondered: ‘What briefing? Today is Wednesday; briefings are usually on Monday.’

At 10:00 o’clock, he walked into the conference room and found that Linda was already there too. Sitting next to her was Commander Connie Wall of the Coast Guard (USCG), Commander Harold Jarrett of the Navy (USN), Petty Officer 1st Class Luigi Larenti, and Petty Officer 2nd Class Rudy O’Neil.

Except on special occasions, or when a specific need required it, it was the practice for NSIU personnel to usually dress in civilian clothes and operate in a relaxed atmosphere. And that was the situation on this lovely spring morning.

Two Minutes later, Admiral Harry Walker entered and sat down. He passed around a two-page report and said: "Good morning, this was in my lockbox this morning, and there seems to be a little bit of concern over at the Department of Defense (DOD) about what this is all about.

"From what I read into this, they are wondering how an individual, like Dr. Jonathan Minsker, could disappear without a trace and without saying anything to anybody on a Monday evening.

He is one of the scientists working on a new weapon enhancement project, one that DOD feels may change the way we will fight hand-to-hand combat in future conflicts.

Harold spoke up, saying: It seems, from this report, that he was at work Monday in his laboratory by the Fort Douglas Army base; that is located on the east side of Salt Lake City, by the University of Utah. It says that he left for his home at about 4:15 PM and was seen driving off in his 2017 Green Ford pickup truck. That was the last anyone saw of him.

Luigi asked: What does the DOD want us to do? I would think that the local authorities or even the FBI would be better placed to investigate a missing person.

Well, said Linda, I would assume that since he was working on a weapon systems project, the DOD’s concern would be in finding out if that was the reason for his disappearance and if so, they would want us to find out why?

The Admiral said: Obviously. So, since we are a bit quiet, would you guys please look into it? Connie, would you please set up a schedule and start an investigation; you can have everyone here, except Harold, who is going to be a bit busy with a case records file report that has been requested.

The dirty look on Harold’s face spoke of what he thought about a case records file report; it was just a bunch of additional bureaucratic gibberish that would never be read by anyone who would care. But, he knew that it had to be done, so shaking his head said: Any chance you want to swap projects, Connie?

With a big smile on her face, Connie said: I think that a case records file report needs to be done by someone who is in the Navy; remember I’m in the Coast Guard! Then turning towards the others, she added: I never realized how blessed I am to be in a different service; at times, I just love not fitting in!

With that said, Harold got up, saying: Since I’m not needed, I’ll leave it all to you guys. Don’t bother me; I have some critical and important case record files to review! With that, hiding a smile on his face, he left the room.

The Admiral, also rising to leave the room, said: I’m sure none of you believe Harold.

He turned and said: Working with Ira (Chief Petty Officer Ira Jones), he is in charge of three other small current investigations for DOD; and, they have the rest of our staff located in California. However, for some reason, I have a feeling this missing scientist investigation may be a bit more than we think.

"The five remaining people sat quietly looking at each other, all wondering exactly how they should begin.

It was Linda, who finally said: "I’ve worked on several missing person cases when I was in Vermont, and they all start about the same way.

First, it needs to be determined if a crime is involved. That means the individual, Dr. Jonathan Minsker, had left by his own volition, or was he forced, i.e., kidnaped. The best way to find an answer to that is to ask what the local authorities have found so far.

Connie said: Since we have authority from DOD, it would be appropriate for us to advise those local people that we have a federal interest and simply offer to help them. So, Paul, do you have any thoughts about how or who we should ask?"

Paul said: He was working at or near the Fort Douglas Army base, and that is probably where the DOD connection comes in. So, I think a phone call to them, from us, would be appropriate.

Actually, why don’t I make that call myself, and Linda, why don’t you call the local police and see what they are willing to share. Does that work for you, Connie? And, maybe you should be the one to call the FBI and ask them what they know.

Connie answered: It is a good starting point. After all, we are official as an investigative unit of the DOD; that should be enough.

Luigi said: I will see if I can put a trace on his pickup truck and maybe learn if it has been found.

Rudy asked: Assuming his disappearance was a planned event, can we find out exactly what he was working on for the weapons program? It may give us some recommendations.

Paul said: Rudy, I agree with you, and I have some time available this afternoon, so I’ll see if I can get ahold of someone out there who is willing to tell us.

Chapter Two

Thursday, 16 May 2019

Connie’s office at NSIU Headquarters

Washington, DC

Yesterday wasn’t a complete loss; some information was discovered, like Linda’s talk with the local police.

Salt Lake City, Utah, isn’t a small town, and therefore their police department is accomplished, thorough, and competent. When she got through to the officer in charge of the local investigation, he was as helpful as possible.

He told her that as of the moment, they still had not determined the reason for his disappearance and that no one, other than the associates he worked with at the Lab by the Fort Douglas Army base, had any notion that he might be missing.

It was his work associates who had showed concern, and they were the ones who called 911 after two days. They had tried his cell phone, but it just immediately went to voicemail, indicating that it wasn’t in range or was turned off.

So, the local police tried to find any relatives, friends, or neighbors who might know something. Everything came back negative; no one knew anything about him or where he was. With privacy laws, they would need a warrant to try for a mobile phone company trace of his phone’s location, and as yet, they didn’t have sufficient evidence to ask for one.

His family was remote, with a sister in New York State and a nephew in Iowa. Neither had heard from him lately, but that wasn’t unusual; he was always tied to his projects and rarely communicated with his family.

He has a small house on a quiet street in Salt Lake City, but he has only occasional contact with his neighbors, so no one had missed him. It was only a few days, so no one thought much about it until the police arrived to ask about him.

Connie placed a call to the FBI, but, even with her rank and authority, they were unwilling to reveal any information to her other than to say they had received a search and locate request from the Department of Justice (DOJ).

When Connie told the Admiral of the information request denial from the FBI, he just shook his head and said: "They are getting too careful lately; some mistakes they have made have gotten quite a few noses out of joint, and they are nervous. But call again and ask to speak directly to special agent Miguel Lôpez. Miguel has worked with us and knows us quite well. He is also the boyfriend of Jane, your predecessor.

Introduce yourself and tell him that you are in charge of this NSIU investigation. I would be very surprised if that isn’t enough to change their attitude.

Less than an hour later, Connie had spoken with Miguel and was assured that she would be kept informed of anything that they find, but, as of the moment, they didn’t know anything more than the Salt Lake City police had found; except that they did get a phone trace on Dr. Minsker’s cell phone location. It was last accessed on route I-80 westbound, still in Salt Lake City. It, however, went completely dead at that time on Monday, 13 May at 7:45 PM.

There was no further location access recorded from that cell phone, and there was no report of an accident, or anything else, in that area at that time, so the question is, why did it go dead?

For a cell phone to lose all location tracing points, it needed to be in either a dead area between cell towers or the battery, and the ‘SIM’ chip needs to be removed.

Miguel said: "I am sorry that you had to go through some of the tightened restrictions, but things have gotten a bit strange around here lately. However, Jane has told me all about you, and I am so pleased to speak with you; and to hear that you are there at the NSIU.

Of all the groups in the government that I’ve worked with, NSIU is the only one I know has absolutely no ulterior motive in any of their actions. You may call me anytime, with any question, or for the information you need. If I know and can answer it, you will get it from me.

Paul also was looking into the case but from a different point of view. His call to the Weapons Research Laboratory (WRL) by the Fort Douglas Army base was answered and passed over to another scientist working with Dr. Minsker.

David Bond, a special weapons technician, was as informative as he could be but could only tell Paul what they had been working on after a security check. The check went through, and Paul indicated that all conversations needed to be encrypted. Since they both used the same method, and, once activated, they could talk freely.

Paul said: DOD seems interested in Dr. Minsker’s project and is quite concerned about his disappearance. That is normal, but why were we put on this investigation so soon? What are you working on that would be so concerning to them?

David Bond, the detailed technician that he is, said: "We are developing an accelerator cap for a technical bullet head. I know that sounds strange, but let me explain.

"Dr. Minsker does a lot with magnetic fields and, also, electron acceleration. That is usually done in nuclear research, but we are a lot different here.

"An electron’s speed approaches the speed of light, and if a small active particle is placed correctly, and, near a magnetic field, its motion accelerates the speed of any item within that field. The Doctor felt that if we could adapt the end of a special rifle, we could increase the muzzle velocity by a factor of almost two-and-a-half times to about 2,800 feet per second. Normal muzzle velocity is supersonic at about 1,150 feet per second, sometimes a little more.

That would result in two big changes. One, the target’s distance range would increase significantly, and, two, it would be possible to expand, again by a factor of almost six, the explosive capacity of a loaded bullet head cap.

Paul was glad that he was the one to make this phone call because he immediately understood the value of such an experiment. As a trained Navy Seal and sniper, he knew distance and accuracy were all important.

Paul asked: How was the project going? Have you and Dr. Minsker been successful with the idea yet?

David Bond said: "Dr. Minsker is brilliant, and also very detailed. He has had this idea in his head for some time now and is very precise in his testing. So, in answer to your question, we have had good results from our preliminary experimental tests.

The acceleration tests are better than we predicted, with the last series putting our muzzle velocity at almost 3,300 feet per second, approaching Mach-three; three times the speed of sound. However, there is a common flaw in the process, and that is the explosive bullet cap. To make it work, we needed to double the overall cartridge length, which causes two problems. One, it doesn’t fit in the standard gun, and two, the longer and heavier cap slows down the overall velocity sooner than we want.

Paul asked: Are any gun manufacturers aware of your project?

Bond answered: Dr. Minsker has, on occasions, met with several specialty gun manufacturers, most of whom are currently building and supplying military-grade weapons for the Defense Department. But I believe he also knows a few manufacturers who operate only in the private sector.

Paul said: I guess the question that we need an answer to is did he discuss this project with any of those manufacturers?

Bond Answered: "I don’t have an answer for that question, only to say Dr. Minsker is usually very careful about discussing what we do here with anyone. It is possible; he might have asked one of these manufacturers about changes that he would need to accommodate or the modifications we would require.

I just don’t know if he did or did not.

Paul, thinking about what he had just learned, asked: How many people there in your facility, besides yourself, know about this project? Or how many people outside of the facility?

Bond answered: "This is a secure facility, and we have several secret projects being looked at here most of the time. Of course, everyone is cleared for this level of work, and we are careful about any testing that we do. Only eighteen people have access to this building, and the Army provides twenty- four-seven security. But answering your question, probably at least twelve people inside know some of the details about the project. However, we are a small place, and most everyone likely knows something about it.

Outside the facility, I doubt if anyone knows, but we do have range tests from time to time, and those aren’t always kept secret; the Army always knows that we are doing them.

Paul, thanking David Bond for his insight and answers, ended his call. As he sat thinking about it, the realization that Dr. Minsker was a clear target for something nefarious was obvious.

He was a brilliant scientist, a quiet man who had little or no known social life. There was no question that he was a valuable person, and kidnapping became more likely as they learned more about the project.

A question that formed, in his mind, was who would be interested in this project and where would they have gotten the information from about its existence?

Chapter Three

Thursday, 16 May 2019

6303 South Myrtle Avenue

Asian District, Las Vegas, NV

Doctor Jonathan Minsker had no idea what had happened, where he was, or how he got there. He remembered driving westbound on I-80, on his way home, when he was pulled over for some infraction by a local sheriff’s unmarked car with its blue lights flashing in the windows and grill. He had no idea why they were pulling him over, but he knew they would tell him.

As the two officers got out of their cruiser and walked up to him, he lowered his window and looked at the man by his door.

Suddenly, the man sprayed the Doctor’s face with a powerful mist. He felt the wetness of it and, as it clouded his eyes, he then felt the prick of a needle in his neck. Then almost immediately, everything went dark, and he remembers nothing beyond that.

As the man by the door put down the spray bottle and needle, the other opened the passenger door, lifted the Doctor over to the passenger side of the truck, clipped him into his seat belt, and then walked around and got into the driver’s seat himself.

The other officer reached in and took Jonathon’s cell phone. As he walked back to their cruiser, he removed the battery and pulled out the phone’s SIM chip. Then climbing into the driver’s seat of the cruiser, he turned off the lights, pulled out, and followed the green pick-up in front of him. The whole time of the stop wasn’t even three minutes. Traffic was light at that time, and no one paid any attention to the stop.

That was Monday afternoon, and now it was Thursday. He had awakened in a quiet, dark room Tuesday morning. There was a window, but it had been ‘frosted out,’ and he couldn’t see anything. There were just two rooms; the larger room had several chairs, two cocktail tables, a small refrigerator, an armoire, and a single bed along the back wall. The other was a small bathroom with a shower, toilet, and vanity sink. The main door was, of course, locked from the outside.

He had been awake for maybe ten minutes before the door opened, and a pretty, thirtyish-year-old Asian girl entered, carrying a tray full of eggs, toast, and a pot of hot coffee. Without a word, she placed the tray on one of the cocktail tables, turned, smiled at him, and left the room. The sound of the door lock ‘clicking’ was unmistakable.

Three newspapers were lying on the floor next to one of the chairs: ‘The New York Times,’ ‘The Los Angeles Times,’ and the ‘Wall Street Journal.’ All three were dated: Tuesday, 14 May 2019.

The room was silent, and there was no radio or anything else.

As he stood looking at the closed door, his mind began to clear, and he went over to the door, tried to open it, then pounded on it, yelling for someone, anyone!

After about two minutes, a voice said through the door: Step back from the door, and I will open it.

With that, the door opened, and a large Asian man stepped in and closed it behind him.

He said: Dr. Minsker, you are now under our control, and if you wish to remain alive, safe, and reasonably comfortable, you will do as you are told. As for the moment, you may read all the newspapers, request a book, or even watch television. We will bring one in for you a little later.

He then pointed to a small camera on the wall at the highest point in the room and said: "You do not need to yell; we can hear and see you at any time. speak and, if appropriate, we will answer.

"The girl who brought in your breakfast is named ‘Ellie,’ do not try to speak with her; she does not speak English.

Relax, and we will tell you what is happening when you need to know.

With those words spoken, he quickly turned and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him and locking it.

Later Tuesday afternoon, two young Asian men brought in a portable television and a stand for it, set it up,