Unfinished Cacophony , livre ebook

TERRAPIN Group Publishing LLC - Eric Lowans

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182 pages

English

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Psychic prodigy Nerissa Khoury is remote viewing a target for her mysterious organization, a quasi-government agency hidden amidst the alphabet soup of the Beltway. But when she inadvertently discovers something that others in the government thought was comfortably well-hidden, they panic and make the decision that she should be eliminated. An associate at the Institute feels that she needs the type of off-grid protection that only one person they know can provide. Someone who plays outside the rules. Former Army SOC operator Matthias Karlsson is once again called out of retirement and asked to keep her alive until her agency can sort the mess out. Operating in both the physical and the psychic realms, their flight proves to be a challenge as it takes them first to the sunny shores of Ambergris Caye, a SCUBA diver’s paradise off the Central American coast of Belize, and then to the Wisconsin shoreline of Lake Michigan. Even though disclosure is happening around them and the government is finally fessing up to long-held secrets about who we are and how we got here, there are still some secrets that need to stay buried. At least a while longer.

Sujets

Policier & Thriller

Thriller

Science-fiction

Fiction

Espionage

Science Fiction

Alien Contact

Thrillers

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Publié par	TERRAPIN Group Publishing LLC
Date de parution	18 février 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781977263582
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

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Unfinished Cacophony All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2023 Eric Lowans v2.0
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
TERRAPIN Group Publishing LLC
ISBN: 978-1-9772-6358-2
Cover Photo © 2023 www.gettyimages.com . All rights reserved - used with permission.
Cover design inspired by Roman DeMatteo
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 1
Nerissa Khoury relaxed on the couch in the well-insulated room in Manassas, Virginia. Known in technical circles as a Faraday Cage, it had been constructed to filter out virtually all Radio Frequency, or RF, waves that permeated the atmosphere. Additionally, the temperature, humidity and air quality were precisely adjusted to the occupant’s preference and were therefore near perfect, and there was no ambient noise in the room that the occupants did not generate themselves.
It had been warm in Washington and since she did not have to meet with anyone special that day, she had gone the route of comfort, and chosen blue gym shorts, a white t-shirt, and flip-flops. She had put her hair up under the hat she had picked up at the Mari Vineyards in Michigan a year earlier, which now rested on the table just a few feet away. Her cell phone, car keys and the intriguing oval opal ring, were in her desk down the hall. The key fob and cell phone had obvious RF transmission capabilities. The opal ring had a miniature passive circuit that, when waved over a hidden reader in the wall, retracted the steel bolts in the heavy door leading from the lobby to their suite. It sent an identification signal to a sophisticated video-analytic application that synced with her complete personnel and medical history. If anyone but her attempted to use it for entry to the mundane-looking office, alarms would go off and bad things would happen to the unfortunate malfeasant who tried to use it unlawfully.
She steadied her breathing and concentrated on the pleasant hemi-sync track that had been prepared for her by the technical consultants in The Tank ; the unofficial title of the highly secret remote viewer team, comprised of unique professionals from a variety of government and private backgrounds, that basically served their country as psychic spies. When the CIA publicly proclaimed that they closed the Remote Viewing program in 1995, they merely changed the access classification and location from which these activities were conducted. Further, they took it away from the Army and DIA and outsourced it to private companies, to prevent researchers from filing under the Freedom of Information Act with the hope of obtaining information about it. While the program had become increasingly effective over the years, it still represented a career path that many of the more traditional public servants in official government channels wanted to avoid. Actually, they did not even refer to it as remote viewing any longer. Too many people had heard about the practice and were able to duplicate it in the privacy of their own homes with varying degrees of success.
Confidential requests for this sort of thing were now processed as Non-Traditional Information Analysis. Besides, as counter-espionage programs went, it was only a secret from the taxpayers who chose not to acknowledge it. Most of the world’s spy agencies including the Russians, Chinese and everyone else that had a chip in the game, were not only familiar with its existence, but could be counted upon to try to remote view our own viewers on occasion. There was so much information available on the internet about psychic functioning, that millions of people were experimenting with it on their own. Some better than others. Thus, the number of true secrets extant in the universe was shrinking.
Nerissa was one of the best. Had she not grown up in the business, she probably would have felt isolated and abnormal by this point in her life. But from a young age, her mother, Yasmina, had urged her to be herself and confront her fears about the process. About how it was okay to be different from the other kids. Her mother had been there from the start at the Institute and was able to guide her competently, and lovingly, along as she explored her own psychic abilities. Her grandmother had held the gift of second sight herself. Thus, one could suggest that she was merely carrying on the family business.
The Institute, as it was known then, was established by a team of physicists and engineers to study the phenomenon of Extra Sensory Perception back in the early 1970’s after a report leaked out that the Soviets were using it, quite successfully, as another intelligence source. The CIA was curious to see if the reports were deliberate and calculated misinformation placed by our enemies, or if there was really something to it. The government initially outsourced the study to a west-coast university laboratory and were stunned by the reports they got back. Somewhat in disbelief, they sent an Army officer out to try to poke holes in their research, only to find that there were no holes. Further, to the consternation of the old-world brains that continued to run Washington at the time, the Army officer, a true skeptic, was taught how to do it in a couple of hours and produce extraordinary results.
Now, the United States government was left with a dilemma. Their reports indicated the Soviets were exploiting it, and their study demonstrated that it was quite possible to generate intelligence data remotely. No one knew how it worked. It just did. The scary part, for them, was that anyone could be taught how to do it. One did not have to be a military officer, or an intelligence operative. Anyone who had an interest could learn the protocol. And so it became necessary for the government to step down as hard as it could to create the narrative that anyone who believed in psychic functioning was simply a kook. It was not a huge reach. In years past, the Catholic church had burned people at the stake for just bringing the idea into the confessional.
At five foot four and just over a hundred thirty pounds, the stunning raven-haired beauty was still running marathons at the age of fifty-two. Her penetrating brown eyes had seen things that the rest of the world could not fathom. She had been to other times and unreachable places, including other planets and star systems. She could mentally interrupt electronic circuits and topple guidance systems anywhere in the world. She was an intelligence asset that the government could not allow to fall into the wrong hands. No matter what.
She had never known her father. In the physical world, anyway. A Major in the United States Marine Corps, he was killed in Da Nang, 9 February 1968, during the bloody Tet Offensive, after having been in-country for only six weeks. Neri was born that August and would know only stories of her father through the pictures shared by her mother.
It had all started early for her. Neri’s mother had been one of the first US Government psychics assigned to a program that would know many code names over the years. Yasmina had seen the program go from the research phase to the operational phase and, after twenty years, she gradually emerged as the program’s chief executive. With that promotion came not only exposure to more intriguing taskings, but the need to learn the back-channel ways to secure funding and manage a government contract budget. It was a crazy time. Most members of the political machine denied the existence and utility of psychic functioning, but at the same time felt no qualms about reaping the benefits of information that was otherwise unobtainable from any other intelligence source. But now, after years of evolution, Yasmina ran the privatized group of government spooks, while a tendentious and tenebrous gentleman named Paul ran the government side; a group often referred to as The Tank .
Her cool-down period complete, Neri drew a nonsensical ideogram in the top left corner of the blank page that she had pulled off the stack. She had done her best to quiet the earthly issues and problems that plague most of the people who think they have a good handle on the world. She had seen too much. She knew how the universe worked, how it started and where it would end, but she needed to escape all of that. She needed to be present, and she needed to be totally unbiased in the perceptions she was about to receive from that illusive database known to some as the Akashic Record. She needed to access it with a clean mind, a blank slate. She had to sweep all her earthly thoughts into a mental dustpan so that she could lock them away until she came back from her psychic journey.
What she was doing was not weird, by any stretch of the imagination. Millions of people meditated each day with the goal of getting to where she was right then. Some people relaxed through meditation, some through chemicals, and some through a toxic collection of artificial depressants and narcotics that got them to a place of peace.