Tesla, Jason Walker [reading cloud ebooks TXT] 📗

ties to them and watched other guards do the same to the other men.

Guns stayed cocked, levelled at them, while the military police showed up in several vehicles. The Americans swiftly took Darren and his men prisoner and escorted them to the detention block.

After they had taken the Australians into the building, an American officer gave the order to securely pat them down and strip them of their clothing. Darren’s men didn’t make eye contact with their captives and wouldn’t give them any information. They were soon searched by three men each and given prison clothing to put on. “Get them in cells. Keep them separated. I’ll notify the general that our perimeter’s been breached,” stated a young captain who was in charge of the security detail.

The Americans put each Australian into their own cell. A few minutes later, Darren was photographed. Someone else said, “State your name.”

“Piss off,” said Darren. He knew the others would be just as unhelpful.

“One last chance to cooperate,” said the American. “State your name.”

“Oh, sure,” said Darren. “First name: Piss. Second name: Off.”

The American frowned. He left without another word.

By morning, the American general in charge of the base met with a CIA intelligence officer in his office. She had four manila folders with their full history given to her. This was her first high-priority case posting and she had a strong drive to prove herself to the other members of her agency.

The military base commander, General Sheppard, cautioned Anna before she left his office. “These men are Australian soldiers. They’re not going to like being interrogated by a woman, so I suggest you read up on who they are, Anna, before you go in to see them.”

Anna said, “Of course, General. I’ll read over their files right away.”

Anna left the general’s office and went down the hallway to her office.

When she got to the file of Darren Mathews, she was impressed by his training. He was going to be sent to Iraq in the coming months. When she looked at the other files, she knew that these men were not your average infantry soldiers. Her handling of these men required some tact since they had seen things that would be best kept quiet. The US president had just been there, and if the base had been infiltrated while he was on it, that would have been very embarrassing to the higher-ups. She needed to have a plan for those men or they would start singing to the press.

By 1 p.m., she had a good idea of how she wanted to handle things, but first, she needed to make the prisoners sweat a little. She made a phone call to the minister of national defence in Australia and asked to speak directly with the minister. When she told him that she had four of his soldiers being held on their base, he became quite apologetic. When she felt she had all her ducks in a row, she thanked the minister and hung up the phone. Then, she got up from her desk and walked out of her office. She was heading to the detention building to finally see the prisoners.

She interviewed the SAS men one by one, finally coming to Darren at 6 p.m.

As Darren was brought into the interrogation room, he was surprised to see such a beautiful woman staring back at him. He kept his composure, though, and took a seat.

Anna asked him, “What were you doing so close to the base, Corporal Mathews?”

“You’re wasting your breath,” said Darren. “I’m not going to answer any of your questions, mate.”

“I’m going to make this short, Mathews. Neither of us wants to pussyfoot around with each other,” said Anna. “You can agree to answer my questions, or I can send you back to that cold prison block. You getting me?”

“Fuck you,” said Darren.

Anna stood up. “We’ll try this again in a few weeks, Corporal.”

Darren was sent back to his cell, where he was subjected to a cycle of cold air streamed directly through a vent in the ceiling and sleep deprivation. Lights would go off, then they would go on half an hour later, and the loop would continue for hours at a time. It was emotionally draining. The SAS men weren’t surprised—this was standard operating procedure. They had been trained for this and it would have very little effect on them, but Anna already knew this. She needed time to think things through.

When that didn’t make them break, restrictions were placed on the types of food and water given to them. Darren was offered a blanket but was given only a sheet, which was inefficient in keeping him warm against the blasting cold air. When that didn’t break them, the guards started to broadcast heavy metal music at ear-shattering levels in a continuous loop. That prevented them from falling asleep. During the day they couldn’t sleep on their beds, and they would be given smaller portions of food.

Darren tried to figure out a way out of this situation in his head, but it was hard to make any sort of plan when his body was running on empty. His higher self kept telling him it was all a game. Eventually, somebody would come to collect them, but he wasn’t looking forward to that because their asses would be served on a plate to someone high up in the ADF. There would be serious consequences for what they’d done. But he was glad he’d done it. Now he knew that the Americans were lying to the Australian government about what was taking place here, and given the circumstances, he was beginning to believe it was something far more sinister. That idea presented as something that would be very hard for the public to accept—that the senior government officials did know something and were going along with it but keeping their citizens in the dark. And who’d do that?

That very idea kept him up at night wondering who was behind his incarceration. Darren had come to realize that there could be secret societies with allegiances to other countries. His first guesses about who might be in control of the power structure in Australia could be debated for a long time, but if they were true, it could be Freemasons. It could be the Jesuits and the Knights of Malta. It could be the CIA or it could be the Zionists and their red mafia that had come out of Russia and now lived in Israel. Or perhaps it was the Sandhedron Council who were always supported by the Mossad since America was involved here. There were a number of forces that would love to rule over the world if the Order of the Black Sun didn’t reach that goal first. He pondered in thought while he scratched his bristly chin. This would keep his mind going while he was alone in his cell for some time to come.

Darren made it two weeks in solitary cut off from his friends before he finally agreed to speak with Anna again.

She was pleased to see him when he was escorted into the interrogation room by the black-uniformed guards with triangle insignias on their patches. “Hello, Corporal Mathews. Please take a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Darren nodded his head, his voice rough, when he asked, “What do you want from me?”

“It’s simple—your services in our organization” answered Anna.

“Mate, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you can’t hold us underground forever. We were on leave. Now we’re AWOL. We were getting ready to be sent off to Iraq to help your fucking country!”

“I’m not playing any game, Corporal Mathews. I’ve already notified your minister of national defence about what you’ve done here and that we’ve taken you and your band of merry men into custody. We have agreements with your federal government that this base is strictly off-limits unless you are invited to come here—and for good reason. You’ve caused us quite some embarrassment, and you’ve seen some things that you shouldn’t have seen. How else do you want this to play out? I mean, I could easily have one of your men taken to a kill room to send the rest of you a message. I know exactly what sort of a man you are, which is why I don’t think that would work. It would only anger you. I’m trying to find a way out of this where nobody dies. So, what I’m proposing is that you come work for us.”

“For the CIA?” Darren retorted.

“That’s right,” said Anna.

Darren asked, “All of us?”

“No,” said Anna. “The rest of your unit would be released. They could continue serving in the SAS. if they wanted to, but the minister of defence might also give them a dishonourable discharge. I could easily sway his decision one way or the other.”

“How?” Darren asked.

“I’d tell them you helped us. Make up a story, and I’ll put my stamp on it,” she replied.

Darren wasn’t stupid. “Are you giving the same spiel to all of my mates?”

Anna told him, “I’m not interested in playing games with you Corporal Mathews. I’m looking for results. Are you interested or not? I can assure you that I’ll make things right for your friends, and they can continue on to the Persian Gulf—that is if you take what I’m offering . . . the alternative is not so rosy. I can promise you that.”

“What would I be doing for the CIA?”

Agent Carpenter looked directly into his eyes and said nothing. “Initially you’ll be helping us with crash retrievals.”

Darren didn’t see that he had a choice. She had him by the balls. Her way . . . or a hole in the ground—never again to see the light of day.

He agreed.

March 31, 1991
The Orange Corporation

Mark Woods and the other members of the SAS unit that were Darren’s former posse were released by the end of week three after their initial base-crashing idea went awry. Darren was sent to work for the CIA as a military asset shortly afterwards and was assigned to a CIA-owned Navy frigate in the Persian Gulf. What he hadn’t expected was that he would be helping them recover ET craft from the bottom of the ocean at a depth of eight hundred meters. His experience as a combat diver was helpful, but he played the observer while they used remote-controlled submersibles that the US Navy had secretly been developing, paired with trained dolphins with orbital cameras mounted on harnesses that were responsible for initial reconnaissance.

The first object that was recovered turned out to be a cylinder-shaped craft that was about twenty meters long. After it was on board the ship, Darren was allowed to walk up to take a good look at the glyphs on the craft. He even touched it and gave it a knock, as if someone inside might knock back. Amazing, he thought. Once it was secured to the main deck, the ship moved off and headed to a base in Saudi Arabia.

The seas were unfavourable, and the winds were incessant. The frigate arrived at the base at 3 a.m., and the crew began to organize the trucks that would need to take the craft away after the cranes had lowered it onto a trailer capable of hauling wide loads. It could support the weight of a craft like this, and once it was strapped down, Darren and the driver took it to a CIA hangar that was dedicated to their use. Once Darren had seen it delivered safely, he went back