THE PEACE KEEPERS Read online

  The Peace Keepers

  A Novel by

  Tom Tryst

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter One

  She left Austin early to avoid the weekday traffic, starting her drive hours before the sun rose, but the effort was futile. As she passed through San Antonio, traffic had slowed to a crawl and only improved a little as she headed west out of the city on U.S. 90. Most of the traffic was heading into the city. The rising sun was behind her.

  Tabitha Sullivan was a low level federal employee, a native of Brooklyn, New York and a graduate from NYU. Her first job out of college was with the Federal Government, assigned to an obscure agency she knew nothing about, nor could she find any reference to it when she researched the job offer. It seemed to be somehow attached to the Department of Home Security. There was no question she would accept the offer, for any job at all was hard to come by. She assumed her 3.89 grade average had a lot to do with being offered an interview with what she thought was an agency dealing with the environment. The job meant a long daily commute from the rent-control apartment she shared with two other women, both still students, for the starting salary wouldn’t support her living alone.

  She soon found out she was working for an agency that stayed under the radar, dealing mostly with carbon credits both within the United States and the rest of the world. For the first year on the job, she was mostly a clerk handling the daily mountain of incoming mail and messages. This gave her an insight into what the agency was attempting: to help reduce the emission of carbon from the burning of fossil fuels. She quickly realized that what energy credits one company was granted was sold to another polluting company, resulting in an overall lack of any actual emission reduction.

  Known simply as Tab with her fellow workers, she was well liked by both the men and women. The women liked her because of her easy, outgoing personality and ready smile, the men because of interpreting that smile as a come-on. And ‘come on’ they did, for she had that ‘girl-next-door’ quality about her. Some would say she was beautiful, but all would agree she was very pretty. Her figure had a lot to do with her perceived quality; trim and pleasantly shapely. Her light blonde hair and hazel eyes added to her attraction to men. She had her own needs, dating a few she met outside of work, finding a few she liked that were only looking for the same thing as her - a few one-night stands without commitments. She maintained a strict policy of avoiding any office romances, seeing them as detrimental to her career efforts.

  While she planned someday to marry, that time wasn’t now. She wanted a solid career first, and that meant having more than just a bachelor’s degree. Her work had heightened her interest in the ongoing problem of global warming, so she began taking postgraduate classes in climatology. She had not yet achieved that master degree when she got the offer to relocate in Texas.

  At first, she was reluctant to even consider the job offer, for they would tell her very little regarding her duties; she didn’t like the secrecy aspect of some government work. Yet, what they did tell her was intriguing. Very intriguing. She would be a part of a team doing some of the most important work of the Agency. She alone was picked from among hundreds of employees considered for the position, determined by the powers-that-be to be the most qualified for the position - a position for which she hadn’t even applied. If that wasn’t flattering enough, the six-digit starting salary certainly was. Even before she accepted the new assignment, she was given a top secret clearance rating.

  She wonders if she will be able to live up to their expectations.

  She spots the city limit sign for Castroville. There she is to turn north onto highway 37 and follow it 13 miles. Just before getting to the town of Mico, she is to turn left. It is the only paved road along that stretch; once she turns onto it, she will see a small roadside sign, easy to miss, with just “EPA” in smallish letters.

  It is late spring and it is a gorgeous drive through lusciously green rolling hills, giving no hint to the gradually increasing world temperatures accompanied with changes in weather patterns that were causing drought conditions in so many parts of the world - including here in South Texas. She had been driving with the windows up and the air-conditioning on for the entire trip, but now she rolls down the windows of the rental car. The air is sweet with the aromas of spring. She breathes in deeply and can’t help smiling.

  “I think I’m going to like it here,” she says to the world in general, a little amused at speaking out loud. Being a city girl, she can’t identify most of the foliage, but she recognizes the many majestic oak trees creating often dense forest inter-spaced with open fields and groups of cattle. She had left Austin in a hurry to get to her new job and new life, but now she has lost that sense of urgency. She just wants to enjoy the peacefulness of the beautiful countryside, slowing down a little. There is a temptation to stop and take a stroll through the bordering woods, but then decides there would be time enough for that.

  Turning left onto the first paved road she came to, she watches for the “EPA” sign, but drives for several hundred yards on the asphalt road barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass before spotting it. She is on the right road, and hopes she doesn’t meet any trucks coming out. Very soon she has her first view of Medina Lake as her car reaches the crest of a hill. There, too, is the mentioned guard gate and a wide turn around. A large sign reads “Medina Lake Research Facility, Environmental Protection Agency. ENTRY BY PERMIT ONLY.” In smaller print, it advises that all vehicles and persons entering are subject to search, then lists items that will be confiscated. With chagrin, she sees that included are all electronic devises.

  She rolls to a stop at the gate arm, as a uniformed soldier steps out of the gate house. Another remains in the gate house, watching.

  “Good morning,” he greets her pleasantly enough, but even before she can respond he continues. “State your business, please.”

  “Good morning,” she replies. “I’m going to be working here.”

  “Identification, please.”

  She starts to hand him her driver’s license, but he just shakes his head and smiles. “Your Federal identification.”

  She doesn’t know it, but he already knows who she is and why she is there. As soon as he had read the vehicle plates, he knew who she was and that she was expected. Still, there was the formality to confirm that the rental car they were expecting was being driven by her - and that she was alone.

  He barely glances at her ID. “We’ve been expecting you, Miss Sullivan. Welcome to Medina Lake. I’ll have to do a quick search of your vehicle. Just a formality. You’ll find that security is a very important factor here at The Center.”

  “No problem,” she replies, “I understand.”

  “Pop the trunk and step ou
t of the vehicle, please.”

  As she does, the other soldier steps out and joins him in checking the contents of the vehicle. The other guard has an electronic wand that he passes over her luggage. It buzzes in the vicinity of an overnight case.

  “We’ll have to check the contents,” the first guard says almost apologetically.

  She nods. The item activating the scanner is her hair dryer. They close the trunk, noting but ignoring her lap top computer.

  The second soldier scans her body quickly with the wand. It makes no sound.

  “You can get back in,” the first guard says as the other moves to raise the guard arm. “Sorry for the inconvenience. And, again, Welcome. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here.”

  Give gives her instruction to continue another 1.4 miles and report to headquarters, the only three-story building in the compound. She can park in front. Leave the keys in the vehicle. Her luggage will to taken to her residence and the car will be returned to the rental agency.

  She is beginning to feel like a very important person, but then realizes that her position as a research aide doesn’t warrant any such feeling. It was just government efficiency. Or bureaucracy. With the gate arm swung up, she passes through. Just a hundred feet beyond is a ten-foot high fence, topped with rolls of razor wire, blocking the road. It stretches as far as she can see in both directions. Even as she slowly approaches, prepared to stop again, the gate in the fence rolls open and she passes through.

  The road is still narrow, and to her pleasure, is still lined with Oak forest. In her rear view mirror, she sees the gate closing and feels a bit of apprehension, knowing she is locked in. It is necessary security, she tells herself. It is locking others out, not her in. She never checked her odometer, but she soon is passing other low buildings and what looks like apartment buildings, and soon the three-story building appears, clearly emblazoned with “OPERATIONS.”

  Parking in front, she starts to take the ignition key, then remembers to leave it - and her luggage. She takes only her purse and lap top. Because of the uniformed soldiers manning the gate, she expects to see other uniformed personnel as she enters the Operation Building, but all those she sees are wearing appears to be civilian dress, but all khaki in color. She approaches the reception desk, holding out her employee ID card. “I’m Tabitha Sullivan. I’m supposed to report to a Mr. Daniel Davies,” she says to the young woman seated behind the counter.

  Barely glancing at the ID, the woman smiles and says, “Welcome to Lake Medina, Miss Sullivan,” obviously expecting her. “Please have a seat. Mr. Davies is expecting you. He’ll be here shortly.”

  Tabitha has been through this routine many times before and expects a long wait, but she has barely settled in when a smiling middle-aged man enters the reception area and heads straight to her.

  “Hello. hello!” he greets her as he approaches, hand outstretched. She quickly stands and shakes his hand. His palm is surprisingly cool.

  “Welcome to Medina Lake!” he greets enthusiastically. “You have to be Miss Tabitha Sullivan.”

  She nods, her hand still in his. “Most just call me Tab.”

  “Tab it is,” he responds, finally releasing his grip. “We’re very informal here. Although Tabitha is such a beautiful name, I may tend to use it.”

  She almost expects him to add that old line, “a beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” but he doesn’t. Instead, still smiling, he instructs her to come with him. “I know you’re probably tired from your drive and would like to settle in, but we do have to take care of a few formalities first.”

  He leads her down the hall to his office, pausing only to introduce her to his own receptionist before ushering her into a large, but modestly decorated, office.

  He doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I know they didn’t tell you much about what your duties will be. Security, you know. And speaking of security, do you have your cell phone with you?”

  Tabitha nods and removes it from her purse.

  He takes it and sets it on his desk. “We will issue you a new phone. State of the art. It will be encrypted. All your personal data will be transferred to your new phone; your old carrier will be terminated. And it will have all the names and numbers of those here you will be dealing with. Sorry, you won’t be able to make outside calls to any of your personal numbers until they have been cleared with Security. That will only take a day or two. In the meantime, you can use our phones to let any family or loved ones know you’ve arrived safely. But I have to advise you, all outside calls are monitored. They’re very big on security here.”

  “I understand.”

  “Your lap top will also be confiscated, examined and returned to you. You can access your data, but it will not have internet access. You’ll be issued a company tablet to replace it. Again, best money can buy. And again, it will be encrypted. So neither it nor your cell can be used to make outside calls nor access the internet. You’ll have to use our phones for all outside calls. Security.”

  When he pauses for a moment, she dares to ask a question. “Can I ask, why this level of security? I don’t even have a security clearance.”

  “You will have,” he answers. “It’s already in the works. But let me ease any concerns you may have. You are in no danger here. The security we have in place is to prevent cyber infiltration. Spying. There are a lot of people who don’t like what we’re trying to do - reduce carbon emissions. Mostly, big business, who don’t want to spend the money required to clean up their act. And government. Most elected politicians owe big business. But then, you know this. We just can’t have acts of espionage interfering with the program. Even though this is a government operation, the EPA is not very popular with Congress. Half of the congressmen are still not fully aboard on fighting climate change, not denying that it exists, but saying it may exist but they need more time to study the issue.”

  Tabitha nods in agreement. “I know. I’ve been doing postgraduate work in climatology. I’m mor than halfway to getting my masters. How can they continue to deny global warming when it’s happening all around them? The Capital got hit by hurricane Matthew two years ago, a category 3, but the worse storm surge in the history of the city.”

  “It’s all politics,” Daniel replies, “but we’ll get into that in future briefings. For now, I want you to get settled in. My secretary will personally take you to your apartment. Your luggage is already there. Then she’ll take you to lunch. Kind of a military mess hall, but at the level of commissioned officers. The food is great. Then, if you’re up to it, she’ll give you the grand tour of your new hometown.”

  “I’d like that,” Tabitha replies. “When do I start work?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon will be a two-hour briefing. An orientation, so to speak. Here at 1400 hours.” He looks at her questioningly, “Are you familiar with military time?”

  “A little. I’ll catch on.”

  “Good. We use it here. You’ll be given a very thick three-ring folder. For the following two days, all I want you to do is study that information. I don’t expect you to memorize all that data, but become familiar with it so you can use it for future reference. Within a month, you’ll know as much about the project as we do.”

  “I hate to admit it, but I’m not sure I even know what I’ll be doing,” she admits, with eyebrows raised questioningly.

  “I know. You were given only enough information to get you interested in the job. It will be a matter of on-the-job training. You already have the skills needed. You’ll officially start your new job Monday morning, 0900 hours sharp. Punctuality is stressed here.”

  Because she has arrived on the compound too late for the breakfast meal, her escort, who is actually one of Daniel’s administrative aides, introduces herself only as ‘Donna’ and takes her to the dining hall kitchen. There, in a small dining area where the kitchen staff have their on-duty meals, Donna has a cook prepare a breakfast for her. For herself, having already had breakfast, she just has coffee and a roll. />
  On their way in, Tabitha is impressed at how large the dining hall was, with what seemed like almost a hundred four-place tables, with larger tables near the walls.

  After she has eaten, surprised at how hungry she was and pleased with the good food, they begin talking over coffee. Tabitha guesses her escort to be about her own age. Like the majority of government employees, she is clean cut and well dressed - in khaki, like all the others. She is the type that most married women wouldn’t be worried about having their husbands working with her, even though she was pretty enough to lure a man if all he was interested in was sex.

  “How many people are living in the compound,” Tabitha asks.

  Donna shrugs, “I’m not sure. The last count was 204 working on the project. Plus the soldiers. But there are over twice that number working in support positions.” She waves an arm toward the kitchen as she continues, “Food service. Health care. Laundry. Ground keepers. Security. We even have working farms that supply dairy, meat, fruit and vegetables. All live and work inside the compound.”

  “It must be big.”

  She nods emphatically, “Yeah. Some nine square miles. Almost 6,000 acres. All enclosed by the fencing you saw coming in. Twelve miles of fence. The whole area is patrolled by a garrison of Army personnel. They have a small base where they live, separate from us.” She smiles and leans forward to speak in a softer voice. “Some of the guys are really cute. They discourage fraternization, but it’s not prohibited. You are single, aren’t you?”

  Tabitha nods.

  “Got anyone special outside?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, almost everyone in the program is married. They tend to select husband and wife teams, so the isolation wouldn’t be such a factor. I’m not married, and I’m no nun. I have needs. If they don’t want us few single women fraternizing with the soldiers, they should bring in some single men.” She pauses, looking at Tabitha for any response before continuing, “Not that I’m involved with any of them.”

  Tabitha just smiles. “That’s your business. None of mine. I don’t judge.”