Part 3 Chapters 1-3

Part Three
(of Four Parts)
Mayan Calendar Date - 0.0.0.0.2

Modern Calendar Date - August 15, 3114 BC
Rub’ al Khali (The Empty Quarter)
(Near the mountains of modern day Oman)
The searing glare from the baking sands was enough to burn a hole
through the cloth ghutrah encircling his head. As he squinted to discern the
direction of the setting orb, the dust cloud of their passage billowed slowly
absent a breeze. The blazing sun was now descending slowly across the sky
like a burning torch riders carried down the green mountain slopes near his
home. El Jalal Hassan turned from the blinding brightness and closed his
eyes to let the seared retinas regain focus. The undulating waves of sand
frozen in place by the brutal winds of a haboob, or sandstorm, seemed to
stretch into infinity in front of him.
The last several weeks had been spent traveling between the islands of
comfort that gave water and shade from the sizzling sun. These oases were
a great blessing and offered an opportunity for trading and story telling.
Their customs dictated a brief stay as the hosts could not refuse them, but
could offer little protection from the human jackals that might fall upon their
cargo, stealing what they could.
El Jalal Hassan’s ancestors had used the same route for over 40
generations, but it was becoming more arduous as the meandering trail
turned slowly from sparse grassland into desert. As the oases had become
dry and more infrequent, the wayfaring had become more grueling. They
now had a brutal journey of almost 90 miles to the sea and the warm
tranquil waters of the Persian Gulf. There was only one sanctuary between
him and the coast. The gods willing, he would lead his people to it.
The caravan snaked out behind him for almost a quarter mile. His eldest
son and a handful of his fiercest riders brought up the rear, protecting them
from the occasional raids of the Bedouin tribes. Over 500 horses mixed with
nearly 300 camels comprised the burden carrying component of his
procession. They were loaded down with the frankincense and myrrh of his
homeland, so valued by the traders from Arabia, Persia, India and recently
the Orient.
His small tribe consisted of 97 individuals, all related through either blood
or marriage. He had seven beautiful hardworking wives and 24 children. The
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thirty seven year old leader sat rigidly upright in the saddle. A strong
sinewy hand was raised to smooth his long beard and settled on his chest.
The Hamsa amulet he wore around his neck warded off the evil eye and
protected him from ghosts and restless wandering spirits. It was said that
the Rub’ al Khali was home to many demons and peril came to those who
were not righteous.
Like his ancestors he worshiped many gods, but the supreme deity was
the moon god, Al-ilah. It was to this god that he sent his prayers and hopes
for the safety and wealth of his people. Last night had been especially trying
as the sky was filled with large and small stars that streaked to earth and
demonstrated the displeasure of the gods. His people had huddled together
in fear amid the occasional hissing and cracking like giants breaking sticks
against the bones of their enemies and the beat of their huge war drums.
Today he had already heard several distant booms like thunder in the
mountains, but could not see the clouds giving sign of a storm.
Suddenly to his right a monstrous hissing and tearing sound came from
the sky. It was if the heavens had been slashed with a knife and a spitting
flaming ball of light came streaking into the desert sand several miles to his
front. With a resounding boom like a huge hammer striking a stone, the
sound reached him as if a large hand had thumped him in the chest. Slowly
a dust cloud was rising where the apparition had disappeared. His spooked
horse danced under him and spun in a circle under his tight control of the
reins.
The cries of alarm and calls to the gods for pity came forth from his now
prostrate assembly. He could sense the abject fear behind him. One of his
sons was already galloping to the front of the caravan to join him. “Father,
what do you want me to do?” he asked with worry in his eyes and false
strength in his voice.
“Stay here and wait for my return. See to it that all are accounted for. I
will return.” El Jalal Hassan kicked his horse savagely and raced off in the
direction of the rising cloud of dust.
As he came over the top of the last sand dune he pulled harshly on the
reins. He could scarcely believe his eyes. The sand held a slight sheen and
was blackened. As he rode slowly forward the steps of his horse began
crunching through the sand that now had a glass like crust. He dismounted
carefully near a large hole in the dessert floor and suddenly threw himself to
a kneeling position. There before him was a piece of a star still smoldering
in its new nest.
It was almost dark when he returned to the camp. There were cries as
most thought him to be carried away by the demons. In the crook of his
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arm nestled the rock of the gods. It was his destiny and all that saw him
threw themselves to the ground before the symbol of divine favor.
As he dismounted, he looked to the rising moon, which was now slipping

above the desert floor amid a rain of stars falling from the darkening sky. It
was a wonderful crescent moon deserving of his most devout prayers. At
that moment, a small light appeared inside the darkened circle of the
crescent moon. It grew and grew until it was as bright as a tent’s candle. All
were now on their knees as the stars continued to fall from the heavens
amid the sobbing and desperate cries for mercy from nearly a hundred lips.
El Jalal Hassan looked up at the wounded moon and began to pray.
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Chapter One
Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

UTC 14:14:56 - 2012324 | Julian Day Number - 2456251
Local Time – 10:14 PM – Monday November 19, 2012
USS Freedom – Luzon Strait, North of the Philippines
The 90,000 square miles of ocean in the Philippine Sea now seemed like a
very small, wet playground littered with jagged glass. The USS Freedom
was just inside the outer ring of pickets and between the inner ring of larger
ships surrounding the USS George HW Bush, the heart of the CBG, or
Carrier Battle Group. The security zone had been extended to 250 nautical
miles and now included several major international shipping lanes and
fishing grounds for the hungry markets of Asia.
America’s new stealth ship was now tasked with integrating fleet
defensive measures for surface combatants and submarine forces. The CAP
or combat air patrol was under the command of the carrier, but could be
slaved to the target acquisition and tracking provided by the USS Freedom.
Her new radar systems were the most powerful in the world and any
glitches in the new equipment might prove deadly.
Captain Terrance Hawkins wore a no-nonsense expression that masked

his trepidation at being thrust into the limelight of fleet defense. His
systems had been shaken out and proven themselves during sea trials, but
this wasn’t an exercise. Fuck-ups could kill people.
A downlink from Pacific Ocean satellites, the radars of the aircraft flying
patrols and the E2C Hawkeye allowed an “over the horizon” view of their
battle space in 3 dimensions. Captain Hawkins now wished for a fourth
dimension… Chinese intent, but knew that was beyond his grasp.
He had deployed the towed sonar system (AN/SQR-20) for sub-surface

surveillance in addition to the hull mounted high-frequency sonar (AN/SQS-
60) system. Her computers also received data from the fleet’s helicopters
using its ASW assets. Magnometers, sonobuoys, dipped hydrophones, and
FLIR (infra-red detectors used to track the heat plumes of nuclear
submarines) were all being employed to identify and hunt the deadly
leviathans that cruised menacingly below the surface. The Chinese nuclear
subs had left their pens and several were still unaccounted for.
What really worried Captain Hawkins the most was the blind spot of his
massive laser weapon. It was mounted in a retractable turret originally
designed to incorporate the Navy’s new AGS, or Automated Gun System. It
could traverse and target any object within 330 degrees of its spot on the
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forward decks of the ship and up to eighty-five degrees in elevation. But
that still left about 30 degrees to the stern and five degrees overhead. He
felt like he had an old fashioned set of head-to-toe underwear with the rear
flap down and his ass showing.
A smaller laser had been planned for the rear AGS mount, but had been
delayed until his return to San Diego for fitting. He sure hungered for it
now. A warrior rarely went to battle with all the equipment he needed or the
training he wished for… he would simply have to make do with what he had.
The USS Freedom was being backstopped by the USS Fitzgerald,

christened in 1994, it was a DDG-1000 Arleigh Burke class guided missile
Aegis destroyer. With a crew of over 300 sailors it had 3 times the human
cargo of his ship. It’s Aegis system was state of the art until his vessel came
on the scene and he was glad it could assume point if required.
The battle group had received orders to provide an umbrella of defense

for the Philippines and Taiwan. Their CAPs and the racetrack course of the
E2C Hawkeye were just outside the airspaces of these countries and he
wondered if they could provide an effective defense for them simultaneously
if the Chinese were to make a move.
Captain Hawkins had also been advised a surge was in effect. Combat air
wings were being moved into Midway and Wake Islands from the mainland
and a carrier group was surging from San Diego for the West Pacific. The
flexing of US muscle was formidable and intimidating. Exactly what was
intended… but would it be enough?
He had submitted his report of the deadly live fire incident over the Luzon
Strait to Fleet command in Pearl Harbor and the Naval Board of Inquiry. The
Incident Report was put was on hold pending a de-escalation of tensions or
his return to San Diego… which ever came first. Some REMF would arm-
chair-quarterback his decision to engage. It was too aggressive or not
enough warning. What a bunch of crap.
Another cup of steaming hot black liquid entered his field of view. “Thanks
ensign, I’m not sure I’m wired enough”, he joked to relieve the tension on
the bridge.
“Sir… we show movement by five naval craft of various sizes off the coast
of Palawan Island. They are showing Philippine naval ident and on course
for the Spratlys”, the overhead speaker injected.
Captain Hawkins cursed as the scalding liquid burned his lip and he spun
to the bridge’s small display for the data from the CIC. Shit, what now, he
thought.
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Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.13.5 | 13 Chicchan 8 Chen
Local Time –10:23 PM – Monday November 19, 2012
The Spratly Islands, South China Sea
A lively discussion among academics hid the fact that the home countries
of the small compartment’s inhabitants were nearing the abyss of war. Sal
Molina followed the highbrow discussion with a sense of the surreal
conflicted with apprehension. It was as if the discussion was taking place in
a lecture hall or symposium somewhere instead of the bowels of a Chinese
warship. Sal shook his head and went back to studying the two days worth
of accumulated data.
Daniel Compton, Dr. Hufong and Dr. Je Ling were in an animated

deliberation regarding the site’s extent, origin and possible inundation. The
measurements derived from the forward-looking sonar and the magnometer
confirmed the find’s initial assumptions. And then some.
The site was like an underwater Teotihuacan of Central Mexico. It was

massive and organized, with long straight roads built of rock. It had large
complexes built from massive slabs of basaltic granite. There were several
huge raised centers and two large step-pyramid like structures. Evidence of
an ancient port loomed, outlined by a ring of breakwaters shielding a
colossal stone wharf area that indicated it as a trade center.
“Look, the last time this place could have been above water was before
the end of the last ice age… over 12,000 years ago”, Daniel Compton
argued. “A flood would come and go, but at this depth only the rise in ocean
levels of a global scale could account for its existence”.
“Maybe, but the huge blocks of the site’s construction near the area that
would have been closest to the ancient coast are scattered like the blocks of
an angry child, and only a massive tsunami could have done that. My
estimates place them at 20-50 tons. An earthquake might topple them, but
the debris are scattered all in line with a force coming from the direction of
the open ocean”, contended Dr. Je Ling.
“I agree in principal, but the wave and power dynamics required to toss
objects of this size and weight are beyond any tsunami we have ever
documented or found evidence of, save the flood legends of many
countries”, Dr. Hufong added.
“How about if you’re all right?” grunted Sal Molina with his head still
down. “According to this data, it might be reasonable to assume both
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happened. A huge tidal wave followed by gradual inundation from ice sheet
melting.”
The assembled intellectuals looked at each other in shock. Everyone

assumed Sal to be a knuckle-dragging creature of manual labor. Sal raised
his head from the printouts and smiled at the collective disbelief of his
audience. “I have lived all over this planet in the last 20 years and I can tell
you that in every culture I’ve ever been exposed to there are legends of
cataclysms, many by flood. These tales are too widespread to be just
myths. There must be a kernel of truth in all these tales. Maybe we have
stumbled upon that kernel.”
A new appreciation of Sal Molina was verbalized by Daniel Compton. “Well

I’ll be damned, and all this time I thought you were just a grease monkey!”
The group’s laughter was interrupted by the sharp tug of gravity as the
bow of the catamaran lifted from rapid acceleration. It then nosed over to
starboard throwing objects and human inhabitants in a confused jumble.
Trying to regain balance, the four occupants grabbed for any thing they
could. It was the explosive rush of missile gases that stopped their
collective breath as the Type 022 Houbei class patrol boat now surged
through the turquoise waters of the Spratly Islands and began unleashing
her missiles.

Local Time – 6:26 AM – Monday November 19, 2012
NASA Ames Research Lab – Mountain View, California
The last 36 hours revealed several things. One, the potential for the
unexpected was geometric. Two, gut instincts were not to be ignored. And
last, knowledge of what went before was an absolute necessity in the
present.
Dr. Jack Reese lay with the plain cotton sheets of the bed covering his
torso, feet sticking out the bottom. Hands behind his head and staring at
the ceiling, he tried to put the last several days in context. The spartan
rooms of NASA’s guest quarters were a left over from the hay days of
America’s Apollo moon program. Specialists from all across the nation had
been tapped to provide various areas of expertise as the race to the moon
was being run.
Pondering the ramifications of Ted and Anna’s discovery was almost mind
numbing. He had spent a lifetime trying to comprehend ancient civilization’s
fascination with the sky. It had always seemed to him that his profession
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ran rough shod over inquisitive analysis with phrases like, “ceremonial
center”, “religious complex”, or “sky worship”. What arrogance, he thought.
The ancients had been watching the sky because occasionally bad things
happened. Maybe they were superstitious, but not dumb. Maybe they were
ignorant of the causation behind what they recorded. But they made precise
observations of the sky for thousands of years and were scientists in that
regard. Only now did he have real proof of the record keeping and
predictions these ancient “savages” had made.
He hoped it wasn’t too late. Jack turned on his side and lovingly absorbed
the sleeping figure with pillows piled over her head and looked down. He
softly chuckled. Anna’s feet were also sticking out of the covers. It was still
dark, but twilight would begin to spread its warm glow in less than 20
minutes. Jack turned to rise when the shrouded figure said in a soft sultry
voice, “Come back here Jack”.
Two doors down the musty hall, in his own room; Ted Howard was
already showered, dressed and watching FOX news. The opening bell of the
stock market would ring in about 15 minutes on the East Coast. The usually
bubbly hosts of the morning show were obviously anxious and visibly
subdued. The somber guests that morning were a computer security analyst
and a stockbroker. Neither had very promising prognostications.
Ted Howard sat back and let the TV fade into the background with the
buzz of commercial noise. He closed his eyes and asked God for the
millionth time why his wife was not alive. The world was in for a really rude
shock soon and he wished for her by his side. He longed for the smell of her
hair after a shower in the morning, a squeeze of her fingers on his hand
during a long walk, or a brief hug before going to work. He buried his head
in open palms and cried silently for her memory and what he knew lay
ahead.

The Pentagon - Washington, DC
The Puzzle Palace attitude today was all business. No real professional
warrior wanted to go to war. Veterans abhorred war. They had seen the
madness and mindless vicious bloodshed behind the esoteric notions of
valor. No… militaries were formed and existed to kill people and break
things, not to be used as international police. Civilian governments often
used their militaries to ward off other governments from thinking they were
fair game. The doctrine of MAD, Mutually Assured Destruction, was one of
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the anomalies of modern life. The only way around death was to promise
death.
Thoughts like these coursed through General JG Edward’s brain like

lightning bolts before a tornado. He had almost forgotten the reality of
combat, it had been so many years since the Gulf War of 1991 and his
command of a wing of Warthogs, or A-10 Thunderbolts. His plane was
struck by anti-aircraft fire while giving close air support for a company of
encircled ground-pounders. While the thick titanium “bath tub” surrounding
him had prevented certain death, it was the parachute landing that broke
his back. It was a constant reminder of how fast and how real it could get.
“Contact the Colonel at Nellis in charge of the assembly program, ASAP”,

he barked. “Right away sir. I’ll buzz as soon as she’s on the line.” The
General’s aide then turned to quickly speed dial the number.
Things were very quickly pointing to a confrontation in the Pacific. He

needed to know what was on the shelf, because deliveries might be
delayed… or worse. The combined arms meeting this morning had simply
confirmed his fears. He knew about the USS Freedom’s downing of the
Chinese aircraft and considered it a righteous shoot. Even better, it had
been a real world, combat test of her systems. The Chinese were still
wondering what happened, but they would not be confused for long.
No, it was the weekend’s cyber attack that was the reason for DEFCON 2.
Ominous looking, camouflage uniformed, automatic weapon equipped
guards backed by armored vehicles had been at the Pentagon’s entrance
and on patrol around all the grounds. The best Intel estimates put the
Chicoms at the center and the brass were looking for a way to impress them
of the severity without starting World War III.
The General looked at his watch. The opening bell of Wall Street was in
less than 10 minutes and he had already heard estimates of the cyber
attack’s fallout. They ranged from severe dips to outright panic selling, and
maybe even a triggered shutdown of the markets. It was anybody’s guess.
The good news this morning was from the geeks of the Air Force’s new
Cyber Command. It appeared as though sensitive military and government
systems were unaffected, but the review was still underway and the military
was taking extra precautions.
The console on his desk buzzed and General JG Edwards picked up the
line and punched the button. “Yeah.”
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“The Secretary of the Air Force is on the line, sir. I have the Colonel at
Nellis calling back in ten, I figured you’d want to take this…”, the aide
hesitantly announced.
“Good call, I got it”, and the General punched the blinking button.
“Edwards”, was all he managed to say. He listened for several moments and
then set the phone gingerly back in its holder and sat back in his chair. The
phrase “from the frying pan into the fire” just didn’t seem to cover it.

GRU Headquarters - Moscow, Russia
The situation in the United States had caused an immediate and major
reassessment of Russia’s vulnerability to cyber warfare. The Russian
government had been able to wage limited and successful cyber war against
several of her neighbors. Weaker, less technologically savvy border states
had seen government web sites defaced, email servers jammed, power
grids taken offline and even bank accounts hacked. In the grand scheme of
things the west had taken notice, but not been overly alarmed. This was
different. Now they were threatened by their own weapons.
The Russians were bullies to a certain extent. If they perceived a

weakness they took advantage, careful to weigh the positive against any
potential negative. They were all too aware of the Law of Unintended
Consequences. No matter what language, the law said the same thing.
Col. Nikolei Andreev had fearfully gone to Lt. General Bakkunin with news
of the American twin nightmares. Lasers and robotic drones. To his surprise
and relief, the Lt. General was already awake and listened attentively. When
he reached the details covering the possibility of robotic drones combined
with the new weapon, even the senior officer was held speechless behind a
pale visage.
Picking up a secure phone the Lt. General immediately called the Russian
General of The Army. After a rapid-fire sequence of exchanges, Colonel
Andreev had been ordered to the Kremlin for a formal presentation of his
findings. It had been a long day and a half, and the Colonel was short of
sleep. Rubbing weary eyes with dark circles, he stood to leave his
temporary office at the GRU headquarters and have a quick dinner at the
commissary.
It was then that his computer notified him of an incoming email message.
It was encrypted, so he ran the 258 bit unencoding software that made
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sense of the scrambled message. He had requested that any Intel regarding
unexplained weapons use or tests be routed to his attention. The message
was now decoded:
EYES ONLY – COLONEL ANDREEV
Sunday, 12:47 AM local time (19:47 Saturday, Moscow Time) the

destruction of one of a flight of three Chinese aircraft inbound to the Island
of Babuyon north of the main Philippine island was detected. No
corresponding missile plume was observed at Babuyon. A brief ELINT
signature north of the island between the attacking craft and the island was
observed. Satellite imagery was analyzed and the presence of a ship’s wake
leaving the area was determined. No radar returns for the area were found.
It is possible that the new American stealth ship was present.
END OF TRANSMISSION
He was no longer groggy. The implications electrified his tired brain. The
Chinese had tried to teach the Americans a lesson by attacking their digital
infrastructure. Maybe they feared the new stealth ship. Maybe they knew of
its possible weapon. Either way the stakes just got a lot higher and the
Americans were truly angered.
He grabbed his phone to find out from the Lt. General what assets the
Russians had in the Philippines and request additional satellite coverage of
the American carrier group.

Eielson Air Base, Alaska
New computing stations had been added to control the additional drones.
His team had configured the systems to support two robotic craft for each
station. Each had multiple flat-panel displays for aircraft flight performance
monitoring. Speed, altitude, attitude, fuel, propulsion system, flight control
surfaces, landing gear and weapons were all monitored and could be
controlled at these high tech terminals.
The duplex, or two way, data was streamed to the stations via a complex
exchange of signals using standard radio towers and satellite uplinks for
over-the-horizon mission profiles. All of the testing required the use of a
geo-synchronous military satellite to relay telemetry from the aircraft and
route the controller’s commands.
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Ishiro Watanabe bristled at the use of the word drone. It was
fundamentally inaccurate. The early robotic craft were simply large versions
of the backyard enthusiast’s radio controlled airplane. An operator was
required to manipulate every aspect of flight. Take-offs, landings and aerial
maneuvers were all controlled manually. The new software and hardware
required a leap in imagination.
Standard profiles, such as take-offs and landings were programmed into

the computer “brain” and simply applied when needed. Waypoints,
acceleration, changes in altitude and weapons control could all be taken
from memory when in the autonomous mode of operation. Not only could
these craft think for themselves, they could now exchange data.
From target selection and prioritization to recognition of non-hostile

elements of their environment, these machines had transformed from
something more than flying metal, composites and silicone chips. They were
just short of being alive. Or were they?
The exercise this morning was a repeat of the partially failed missile
intercept test… and more. There would be two flights of six aircraft,
separated by five miles and 5000 feet in elevation. The mission profile was
to take-off, assemble in split formation and proceed west to the coast of
Alaska for the first waypoint. After a sweeping right turn, the second
waypoint was over open ocean, several miles from the coast and over 300
miles north of the base.
It was between these two waypoints that the flights would be “surprised”.
Patriot missile batteries were to target and fire on both flights from the
shore while a submarine launching of five Tomahawk cruise missiles would
start several seconds into the melee. Near the point of the submarine
launch a civilian type target vessel would be positioned to see if the drones
recognized a non-hostile target in their midst. A UAV simulating a small
Cessna would fly behind the Patriot missile attack at the same altitude as
the drones providing an additional twist in target definition.
Ishiro was not smiling this morning. He had fought long and hard with the
military to really mix up this test and make it resemble a real world
exercise. The robotics platforms ability to recognize and target different
threats, prioritize them, allocate resources to each and avoid “friendly-fire”
would use every last line of code they possessed, as well as the new
communications suites.
He had inserted a “command” module in each of the electronic brains and

altered the code of each platform to defer to the “leadership” platform in
case of conflicting targeting or flight parameters. A primacy function would
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be recognized and in the event of destruction or lack of input, the next
drone would “assume command”. It was at this station he would position
himself for the test in case a manual over ride was required. Other wise
these craft would operate with out human intervention.
A red flashing light signaled the first flight was taxing to the runway and
Ishiro closed his laptop to assume his chosen location. His children were
taking wing and he hoped they had “learned” enough to achieve adulthood.

Peten Rain Forest, Guatemala
Simplistic symbols were used to detail and describe a science not thought
to have existed. Reaching out from the mists of the past, illuminating the
present and the future, the glyphs told a story of cycles. These were not the
cycles of the seasons, or rain and drought, but the rhythms of the heavens.
In a language never seen before, the tale of the sky’s occasional furor was
told. It was thought that the Mayans had developed written language in the
Americas, but this was much older, yet similar.
In lives that began with the rising of the sun, followed its path to set in
the west, they had memorized and lived with the cycles of the moon and
Venus, and marveled at the glittering night sky… it was beyond worship. It
was a way of harmonic existence. All life was a cycle.
Over the vast expanses of time, a dedicated group of individuals kept

records of observations of the astral parade over their heads. Precession,
the wobble of the earth’s axis over 25,800 years, could be deduced as the
stars and their constellations would shift a slight one degree every 72 years.
Thousands of years of painstaking measurements would verify this and
many other types of celestial mechanics that modern astronomy awarded to
much more “advanced cultures”, some only revealed in modern times. The
device he had found represented a true scientific tool that aided this
endeavor.
Who ever had built this pyramid had rested on the laurels of thousands of
years of sky watching. Patiently, precisely, the heavens were recorded…
because every now and then earth traversed dangerous skies. Dr. Jack
Reese had told Dr. Olexander Krotova of the existence of many other sites
across the world that defied explanation… unless they were being employed
as watching stations.
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“Lest we forget…”, Dr. Krotova said softly to the damp morning air alive
with the sounds of the jungle around him. He had visited England in his
youth and heard a poem recited commemorating the British Empire’s war
dead in World War I. The conflict had claimed over 20 million lives with in
excess of 40 million wounded. It was thought that a tragedy so horrific
should never be repeated.
That was the core of this message from the murky depths of time.
“Death is coming and we know exactly what the sky will look like when it
does”, Dr. Krotova imagined the ancients to be whispering in his ear.
Humanity would not listen to him, a plump academic sweating in a remote

jungle. Jack had insinuated that Dr. Anna Choi had confirmed the
deductions made from his notes and more. If the warning were true, World
War I would pale in comparison.
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Chapter Two

55 Broad Street – New York, NY
30 stories of energetic commerce operated around the clock as the

markets of half the world were already in free fall. The gleaming office
building across from the New York Stock Exchange was home to an
international who’s who list of high tech information companies and several
of the digital arms of international trading houses and banks. It featured 12
telecom carriers, fiber optic bandwidth up to one gigabyte per second in
speed and vast server facilities for co-location of her occupant’s electronic
brains.
The stunning drop of American markets had triggered an automatic

closure of her exchanges as required by statute. What the statute did not
take into account was the cascading fear and loss of faith in the world’s
financial system.
Frank Kilmer sat in stunned silence as he looked at the scrolling list of the
various financial instruments’ losses of the last hour and ten minutes. The
FTSE, in England, the markets of Europe and Asia had all sensed, and in
various ways, forecasted the opening of Wall Street’s trading. Futures,
bonds, stocks, money markets, insurance markets, foreign exchange and
associated derivatives had all fallen over 30 percent in that time and
triggered an automatic closure of all trading forums under the US
Government’s jurisdiction.
The circuit breakers of the world’s most complex and valued exchanges
were geared to activate at 10, 20 and 30 percent increments. The first two
resulted in halts that only lasted a mere hour or two and had to take place
before one or two in the afternoon, sometimes resulting in a freeze for the
rest of the day if late enough.
A Level 3 halt of 30 percent was mind numbing. Futures had added to the
harbinger of bad news brought by the international markets. The shut down
was historically unprecedented. The attacks of 9/11 had resulted in a four-
day closure of the markets, after which a relatively modest drop of almost 8
percent added to the initial decline. It had still resulted in an overall loss of
$1.4 trillion dollars. Pretty effective for guys living out of caves.
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Before the electronic brakes were applied this morning, a catastrophic and
blazing 30.14 percent drop in the value of the world’s safest economy had
occurred. Frank’s bank had holdings in several foreign currencies,
international as well as domestic bonds and real estate.
He was part of the bank’s team servicing several large trans-global

operations as well as individual account holders. His phone was now ringing
off the hook and his secretary had been ordered to take messages,
prioritizing them according to account size. How was he going to tell them
that almost 40% of their holdings had evaporated in the last several hours?
Frank had no idea where he bottom was. Imagined visions of bankers and
traders leaping to their deaths’ in the aftermath of the market’s crash of
1929 began to creep into his consciousness. Shaking off the horrid visions
and feeling like he was going to puke, Frank Kilmer tried to get a handle on
what had happened and what it meant.
A loss of confidence in the integrity and security of the world’s digital

networks had resulted in a precipitous drop in value of the financial
instruments that were used to execute financial exchange. The potential
house of cards of the international financial system depended upon the trust
of loan holders that they would be paid, stockholders - that the balance
sheets of companies were valid and that governments’ currencies were
worth what they said.
The losers were dependent upon that house of cards. Who were the
winners? Frank Kilmer quickly ran several searches on his computer and the
anticipated results were displayed. Gold and other metals, oil and weapons
had seemed to hold, even gain value. Computer security concerns were a
glaring new opportunity. Software, hardware, fiber optics, and new network
hardening technologies had all experienced a drastic leap in value.
The next screen showed the relative value of international currencies. No

surprises… they were all tanking. The next list elicited a Homer Simpson like
“Doah!” It was here that he found his real answer. Frank Kilmer picked up
his phone and called the head of his bank in Zurich, Switzerland. If he
moved quickly, he might be able to turn lemons into lemonade.
Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.13.5 | 13 Chicchan 8 Chen

Local Time –11:52 PM – Monday November 19, 2012
Intelligence Headquarters - Beijing, China
With over 100 feet of concrete and dirt over his head General Je Jiaao still
did not feel entirely safe. The last 36 hours had been spent dismantling his
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far-flung Ghost Brigade and its traces. He was taking no chances. The idiots
in Beijing had blundered again. The ramifications of their massive
indiscretions were now coming home to roost as news of the world’s
financial system’s convulsions became evident. Like it or not, China was
inextricably linked to the despised capitalist economies.
The last 30 years of “economic experimentation” attempting to let the

power of free markets lift an essentially Communist nation into the 21st
century revealed a basic flaw. State control of markets could not live with
free enterprise. China had tried to keep the lid on her restive masses as she
opened the doors to the western notions of wealth.
Peasants living in farm collectives and oppressed by corrupt officials railed

against abuses inherent in the system, much less the relatively fabulous
wealth of China’s new class of city dwellers. People on bicycles were at the
mercy of cocky drivers in automobiles careening through the throngs of
rush hour traffic. He was from a small fishing village in the north and still
believed in the values of rural life. These disenfranchised throngs were
closer to his heart than he liked to admit.
China’s leadership had lost a staggering sum of the national treasure

entrusted to their care and made the Americans blind with rage in the
process. General Jiaao shook his head and signed the orders re-tasking
satellites, alerting various commands under his control and ordering the
national infrastructure firewalls to be erected. This last order effectively cut
China off from the rest of the world for open internet and phone traffic...
and put the military in charge.
An American carrier group was lurking in the Philippine Sea, the islands of
Wake and Guam were swarming with her aircraft and satellites had caught
the surge of a new robust carrier group leaving the west coast of the United
States. The good news was that they would be too late to make a
difference.
The last in his stack of today’s business was a report from the elements of
the Southern Command tasked with exploiting the new foothold in the
Spratly Islands. Despite all on his plate, the report was riveting. Naval
assets were assisting the westerners along with two Chinese experts in
verifying the find and determining its extent. The underwater site was
massive and all indications were of an age that indicated great antiquity.
General Jiaao no longer doubted the flood legends of his village. The blood
in his veins throbbed with the news. The insistent buzzing of his private line
interrupted his reverie. “Jiaao”, he answered tersely.
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‘We have positive confirmation of a Philippine surface ship attack against
our Spratly flotilla. Several ships are believed to have been sunk. Helicopter
and aircraft communication indicate a corresponding use of an air element
in the aggression. We are responding with all area assets and activating
other commands in the Parcels and Hainan Dao, sir”, the excited voice on
the other end of the line relayed.
“What about the Americans?” he shot back.
“They don’t seem to be aware or are deliberately not showing any sign of
involvement, sir”, the answer came at a more moderate pace.
“Keep me informed. I’ll be here.” General Jiaao hung up the phone and
put his head in his hands. The fire was getting hotter and threatened to
burn any hands foolish enough to play with it.

USS George HW Bush – Philippine Sea
The code-named Onyx intelligence platform glided silently through space

watching the earth like a hawk. Commonly known as a Lacrosse satellite, it
peered easily through the darkness and light cloud cover over the South
China Sea, an area that included the Spratly Islands. Converting the
captured infrared imagery to digital form and encoding the stream of data
prior to shooting its content to ground relay stations only revealed the tip of
its technical iceberg.
Its Synthetic Aperture Radar allowed for a three dimensional

representation of its target area. In addition to infrared imagery, it also
included a large set of “ears” that could be focused on a small area over a
large distance. The resultant packages of data were then down-linked to a
facility operated by the National Reconnaissance Office or NRO.
The new systems used by the military allowed a direct feed of this
imagery and electronic emissions heard by the sensitive “ears” in the sky.
The battle unfolding in the Spratly Islands was “red flagged” by a set of
watchful algorithms, which tagged several missile plumes and the
subsequent rise in frantic communications.
Lt. Commander Grace Welkins soared over the light cloud layer that
partially obscured the turquoise waters below her. Looking down she
imagined them to resemble fluffy white cotton drifting in the sublime breeze
of the tropics. Her wingman was Lt. Helder and they were flying a patrol
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along the western edge of the exclusion zone and near the coast of the
main Philippine Island of Luzon.
The HMD of her F-35 suddenly flashed an alert message. She then
activated the display on her cockpit dash to see what all the fuss was about.
As she began to investigate, a disembodied voice crackled in the speakers
of her helmet, “Eagle Two to LightBird One.”
“LightBird One.” She snapped and unconsciously looked over her shoulder
to confirm her wingman’s position.
“Proceed to latitude one five north and longitude one one nine east, at
angels three eight, at longitude one two zero descend to three thousand
feet. Proceed at utmost speed, copy.”
“Copy one five north and one one nine east, over.” She replied in a
deadpan voice that hid the tingling of her scalp. Glancing at the new map
generated by those coordinates in her GPS unit, she noticed that it was off
the west coast of Manila and outside of Philippine airspace. Shit…
“Advise as to mission profile Eagle Two, that’s Indian country”. She was
surprised as the now familiar feeling of calm swept over her and checked
her fuel.
“LightBird One, observe DEFCON 2 rules, defend yourself and any

friendlies as situation requires. You are weapons free, repeat weapons free.
Descend to angels two two for IFR. Your gas station should be on your
screen, use frequency one five seven for your hook-up. Advise when ready.
Eagle Two out.”
“Roger, wilco”. She mechanically verified the location of the carrier’s S-3
Viking and confirmed their new orders with her wingman. The tanker was
only several minutes away and they would need the extra fuel. If the fill up
went with out a hitch, they should be less than 20 minutes away. Hopefully
what ever had happened would be over by then.
As she descended gradually to the Viking’s altitude, the carrier began to

forward the data streaming down from the Lacrosse satellite. It was obvious
from the images that a force of at least five Philippine naval craft
accompanied by a flight of F-15s had proceeded to attack the Chinese
garrison at the drilling rig location and destroyed several Chinese warships
in the opening salvo of air to surface and ship to ship missiles.
The Chinese had detected the attack and responded with their own missile
salvo downing two aircraft and damaging three naval craft. The Philippine
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ships were now dead in the water and possibly sinking. One showed a
significant thermal plume that could only mean she was on fire.
Lt. Commander Welkins lined up the probe of her F-35, which was now
projecting out of its recessed position in the skin of the aircraft. Once her
tanks were topped she released the drogue of the S-3 for her wingman to
assume her position.
The spray from the wingman’s release of the drogue signaled the
completion of the aerial refueling dance and she acknowledged their
departure to the Viking. “Get some”, came the laconic reply. Smiling, she
programmed in the new waypoint data and felt her plane swing to the new
vector.
It was over 300 miles, but at 1800 MPH, it wouldn’t take long.

Ariel Military Installation, Israel
The TASE had closed within minutes of the opening of America’s great
exchanges centered on Wall Street in New York. The TASE was Israel’s
national stock exchange. It listed almost 700 companies of which a good
percentage were also traded in other markets… like America. It also allowed
exchange traded funds, government bonds, corporate bonds and mutual
funds.
The stocks traded in the UK, Europe, and Asia were already declining as
those markets progressed through the course of the day. The Securities
Authority was quick to curtail the losses predicated by the opening few
minutes of the American markets. It helped protect these companies and
securities traded in Israel and abroad, but was of limited effectiveness to
the dual-listed securities exposed to the US stampede.
Col. Avi Rosen had monitored the day’s business from his desktop for two
major reasons. The Israeli government and some of his suppliers depended
on the relative value of corporate and government bonds for financing
international commerce and his own portfolio was largely in conservative
Treasury Bills.
What really angered him was the speed at which the SEC in America had
closed the exchanges. It was evident that a loss of 10% had been exceeded
within minutes of the opening, but it had taken over an hour to shutter the
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markets. It had cost several Israeli companies dearly and one of his
European suppliers in particular. It just made no sense…
The tumultuous day had been spent between security meetings

concerning the rough neighborhood of the Middle East and the base’s
production facilities for the laser system components. He returned to the
timetable for completion estimates from the section responsible for
integrating the assembled laser units into the homegrown Merkava battle
tank chassis.
The Mark IV 65 ton beast used a General Dynamics 1500 HP water cooled
engine and sported the latest in Israeli battlefield systems. It was powerful,
fast and nimble. The weight of the turret and main gun had been replaced
by a smaller and lighter armored housing for the laser. It had also been
adapted to supply the extra electrical energy required by the laser units.
These units had been prepared for the arrival of the weapons from the US.
Col. Rosen was glad to note that the first several models would be
available within a week. Finally Israel might have a comprehensive network
protecting her from the smaller rockets of the Palestinians all the way up to
the ballistic missiles aimed their way from Iran. He just prayed it was soon
enough for the safety of his country and especially his family.

Local Time – 11:11AM – Monday November 19, 2012
The White House- Washington, DC
The Cabinet of the United States was in a raucous, full and unprecedented
meeting. President Ryder was handling the reins with a combination of a
gentle controlled voice and rough, brutal language that required no use of
the typical diplo-speak nuance. It was the last in a seemingly endless
torrent of bad… no downright depressing news over the last two days.
At 8:10 AM EST, Admiral Kinser, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, had opened
the meeting with a brief summary of America’s current military posture and
force distribution. He seemed confident and indicated an alert, cautious
standing with surges under way by the Navy to reinforce the Pacific sphere
of influence. He also had covered the usual tensions in the Taiwanese area
and reports of a Chinese force buildup along the coasts facing Taiwan.
Next came Phillip Ruiz, Secretary for Homeland Security, with an update
on the remaining infrastructure problems caused by the cyber attack.
Continuing power grid failures and traffic control seemed something the
country could live with for a day or two.
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Secretary of State Hunter Johnson was completing his synopsis of the
Chinese actions over the last two days. They had struck an ally, given the
country a cold water enema with a cyber attack and now were poised to
start a full fledged war with the Philippines, who, by the way, expected the
United States to ride to her rescue. The President took notes and tried not
to show his exasperation.
The Chinese required some thought, but the real elephant in the room
would come next. The President’s Science Advisor Kitty Feldman, and
NASA’s Chief Administrator Hal Hardin were sitting in the back row of chairs
next to the windows of the West Wing. The President had already heard the
confirmation of the stream, but the complete ramifications were still coming
to light. He had appointed what he estimated were the best and most
capable people in America to assist him in governing the world’s most
powerful nation.
Following the Secretary of State came the short and brutal assessment by
the Treasury Secretary, Samuel Kronker. It had caused the most turmoil.
Even to the point of the President having to slam his fist on the table jerking
all to an abrupt halt. The Secretary advised a closure of all American
markets for the rest of the week and a halt to any trading of federal
securities. It seemed draconian, but with over a 30% loss of the country’s
net worth in less than 12 hours, all had understood the suggestion, even if
they disagreed with the principle.
What he then revealed was hard to digest for those hearing it for the first
time. “Under advisement from the President, the SEC was ordered to delay
enacting Level One or Two circuit breakers for the market, waiting for the
Third Level to be breached.” He paused as jaws dropped around the room.
He continued, “Orders were issued to enact the closure of the markets for
the day under existing statute. I believe the President is now ready to
reveal the reasoning behind his action.”
A collective intake of breath was audible as the revelation sunk in. It was
then followed by the second most tumultuous disturbance of the day.
President Ryder allowed the angry give and take to swirl around the room
for a few minutes before signaling for order. “I trust that all present have
thoughts on this issue and I welcome any reasoned written positions on this
matter”.
The President paused and looked slowly around the room making sure he
had the attention of all. “I would like to introduce Hal Harden, Chief of
NASA, and welcome him as our guest. Hal if you would tell them what you
told me, I would be greatly appreciative”. The President motioned him to
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the head of the table to address the gathered representatives of American
government.
Larry Bloodwell, the President’s National Security Advisor sat behind the
President next to the Science Advisor Kitty Feldman and whispered with
furrowed brows, “Hang on to your chair this is going to cause a rush for
blood pressure medicine”.
“Thank you Mr. President. As I briefed the National Security Council

yesterday afternoon, we have confirmed the existence of a massive debris
stream on an earth-crossing orbit. It is…” The expletives and references to
divine beings were interspersed with whistles and gasps from the assembled
heads of the Executive Branch. The President held his hand up for quiet
again and the voice resumed.
“… it is over 5 million miles wide and possibly 250-300 million miles long.
We are still attempting to ascertain the dimensions, but one thing is for
certain. We are about to enter its path and it may take over a week to come
out the other end. The composition has initially been identified as a
combination of dirty ice to dense rock and possibly some iron. It is unusual
in that there are really three known classes of space ruble flying around the
solar system. The first are comets; which rarely impact earth. Next are
meteor showers; which are the residual debris ejected from comets over
time as they pass around the sun. Then there are asteroids; usually rocky
matter perturbed from the belt between Mars and Jupiter. The second
usually burns up in the outer atmosphere or creates visible fireballs while
asteroids are larger, more dense and some end up making it to the surface
of earth.”
He paused to collect his thoughts and for the first time saw those around
him at a loss for words. With a dry mouth, he cleared his throat and
continued. “We estimate the largest of the objects to be in the 100-200
meter size. A standard bell curve distribution appears to govern the sizes
with most being in the 10-50 meter range. The entire stream contains
objects from the size of a grain of sand up to the size of a basketball. It is
the larger sizes that concern us the most. An additional…“.
The Vice President was probably the most well versed as he had
undergone NASA astronaut training prior to running for Congress many
years ago, “Please excuse me, Mr. Hardin, but aren’t things larger than half
a kilometer really the greatest danger to earth? I mean the dinosaurs were
killed by an asteroid in the 10-15 kilometer range weren’t they?”
“That is the accepted theory Mr. Vice President, but the current thinking is
that the resultant 180 mile crater was but one in a series of impacts with
the parent body being in excess of 50 kilometers. There are several basic
213
factors in impacts and their effects. Size, density and speed all play a factor.
The new paradigm assumes that every now and then earth gets hammered
by one of these big space rocks, but with the advent of our own and the
international version of the Spaceguard System, we are making great
headway in cataloguing these dangers. The closest approach for an NEO, or
Near Earth Object, is not due until mid-century. An event that happens
every 60 million years or even every 100,000 years doesn’t get much press,
but when they do, the presses risk being evaporated. We are not talking
about the random rifle shot across our bow that we occasionally wander
into, but a sizeable belt of high-speed debris we are about to enter. I guess
the best analogy would be of a spinning basketball slowly moving through
multiple blasts from a shotgun. It is not if, but how often and how hard we
get hit.”
“I guess I must sound a little confused Mr. Hardin, but why should we be
overly alarmed about objects of that size?” Vice President Samuel Meeks
was looking around the room at several relieved and equally confused faces.
“Mr. Vice President, you have heard of the geo-magnetic storms caused
by sunspots…”
“Yeah, what the hell does that have to do with this?” He shot back, now
visibly annoyed.
“Well, what really causes the problems for our satellites, communications,
and power grids are the electro-magnetic fields they generate when
impacting earth’s ionosphere. I’m sure everyone here has heard of cable
companies and cell phone providers blaming reception problems on
sunspots…” he paused to see a look of recognition on several faces. He kept
his voice level and quickly resumed to escape the notoriously explosive
wrath of the Vice President.
“The impacts of basketball to house sized debris traveling at speeds of 50-

60 kilometers per second with our atmosphere will generate explosions and
a resultant EMP, or Electro-Magnetic Pulse. These will make sunspots look
like ants on truck filled highway, not to mention the effects of an occasional
football field falling out of the sky. In addition we normally sweep up about
25-40 tons of space dust a day… that might grow to millions of tons per
day. The effects of that are still under review and a matter of intense
debate. Imagine a hundred Mount St Helens eruptions a day…and that is at
the low end. Are you alarmed now… sir?”, the head of NASA was no push
over either.
Not receiving a reply to his rhetorical question Hal Hardin continued. “The
military, and I assume most of the people in this room are familiar with the
problem of EMP generated by nuclear strikes. The armed forces have
214
required hardening of their systems for years, but the private sector of this
country has little or no defense. Power lines will direct the massive
discharges into homes businesses and transformers. Cars will not run.
Computers will turn into paperweights. Essentially, gentlemen, between the
occasional impact, massive dust loading of our atmosphere and guaranteed
EMP, we risk returning to a modern version of the Stone Age.”
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Chapter Three
Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.9 | 12 Muluc 12 Ceh

Local Time – 12:14 AM – Tuesday November 20, 2012
Philippine Air Space Near Spratly Islands – South China Sea
The Western Command of the Philippine Armed Forces was in disarray at

the Antonio Bautita Air Base on Palawan Island. Elements of the Philippine
Fleet from Manila Bay combined with assets patrolling Palawan Island and
the adjacent Spratlys had just had their collective ass handed to them.
Crossing the main Island of Luzon had required the immediate clearance
of air traffic control from the Philippines. Civilian control of the airways had
been assumed by the military hours earlier in preparation for their strike on
the Chinese flotilla. The radio masts blinking near the massive summit of
Mt. Pinatubo to her right and the sprawling lights of the metropolis of Manila
to her left quickly receded under her wingtips.
The flight of laser equipped F-35s were losing altitude rapidly as they
approached the warm waters lapping the coast, dropping to assume a low
level approach. Lt. Commander Wilkins saw that her passive radar was
adding to the E2C Hawkeye’s returns as she closed on the scene of the fire
fight. Traveling at just over Mach 2.3 or 1800 MPH, she reached her
designated position in less than 8 minutes and what seemed like a lifetime
of “what ifs”.
Noting the Philippine Armed Forces various naval and air craft squawking
an encoded signal, she began to discern the friendly versus hostile returns.
There seemed to be just as many casualties on each side. Several returns
were dead in the water or blinking… meaning a recent loss of signal. Some
were showing thermal blooms as fires engulfed drifting hulks.
Blazing across the water she noted an incoming flight of Chinese aircraft
and opened up communications with the Air Boss aboard the E2C Hawkeye.
“Have inbound flight of four Chinese aircraft. Profile reads possible J-10,
please advise”. The Chengdu J-10, or Vigorous Dragon, was an extremely
capable fighter designed to counter the Russian MIG-29 or the American F-
16.
“We have confirmation of inbound bogeys from a heading three two

seven, angels 22, at Mach 1.8. Track indicates intercept with conflict area in
three minutes. You are clear to engage if friendlies are fired upon. Repeat,
you are cleared to engage if fired upon.” The words of the relayed
transmission caused a prickling sensation in her scalp.
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“Roger, request IFR to be available as near as possible”. She wanted the
option of refueling to be close by if she needed it. “LightBird One out”.
She checked the two MBDA Meteor air to air missiles in her interior
weapons bays. The 400 lb., 12 foot long missiles were armed and indicating
ready. The guts of the laser system took up the rest of the interior weapons
bay. She hoped that they would not be necessary.
As she passed over the first radar return for the Philippine Navy she
noticed the brief flash of exploding ordinance lighting the dark night. The
probable scene of mangled limbs, burnt bodies and shocked survivors
clinging to wreckage of oily floating debris temporarily flooded her mind.
The imagined carnage prompted a visceral reaction and she quickly shook it
off. There was not a sailor on earth that did not fear the fires and
destruction of battle that might result in a watery grave.
It was then that a flashing warning of a missile lock on one the Philippine
craft alerted her to the true intent of the Chinese. They were coming for
payback. “LightBird Two, cover the J-10’s, I’ll take the missiles”, she
snapped as her wingman now spread out to her right. The words had barely
come out of her mouth when all four of the J-10’s fired a salvo of two
missiles each. They seemed to be targeting several different Philippine
vessels, but the targets were irrelevant, her orders were clear. “LightBird
Two, await my command to hit the bastards”.
“Affirmative One”, came the cool reply of her wingman.
Lt. Commander Welkins stopped breathing and accepted the computer’s

recommendation for targeting of the 8 missiles now painted as returns on
her infrared radar display. In the time it took to check her altitude the laser
turret descended and began to fire. The eight “shots” or pulses from the
laser took less than a ¼ of a second to turn the Chinese PJ-9 air to surface
missiles into streaking, tumbling piles of useless junk.
“LightBird Two, take out the flight leader. Let’s see if they get spooked’.
“Roger One”, came the cool reply. She was breathing again and feeling
like the hunter who ate the bear, knowing that it had been close to eating
her. The lead plane of the flight of Chinese J-10s began to slow and veer off
course. The remaining J-10’s were altering course and rapidly shifting
altitude. As she watched they angled for home. “Nice shooting, Two. Beer’s
on me.”
The HMD radar displays of both aircraft then recorded a launch of three
super-sonic ship-to-ship missiles streaking towards the BRP Mariano
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Alvarez, a Cyclone class vessel and one of the most modern ships in the
Philippine arsenal.

Local Time –12:15 AM – Tuesday November 20, 2012
The Spratly Islands, South China Sea
The sleek and powerful Chinese catamaran warship was now slicing
through the South China Sea like a Ferrari prowling a parking lot. The last
half hour had seen the odd group of assembled civilians clinging to
whatever handhold could be found. Their cabin door had been locked from
the outside and neither English nor Chinese exhortations proved fruitful.
Preserving the printouts had become a full time job for Sal Molina, one he
had not bargained for. Trying to maintain balance while nurturing the fruits
of several days labor made Sal envious of an octopus. Being cooped up
without the benefit of situational awareness made him even angrier.
The lights of the cabin had been abruptly terminated as the craft began to
surge through the sea. A small red “battle light” had taken its place and
cast a blood red hue over the small compartment and its inhabitants. The
resultant maelstrom of high speed turns, shouted orders and pounding feet
had subsided over 20 minutes ago and the four unlikely cell mates pondered
their fate.
“I can’t see squat”, came the annoyed answer from Daniel Compton as he
attempted to peer through the small porthole. Turning to Dr. Hufong, “So
much for the academic nature of this little outing”, he sarcastically said.
“I don’t understand… how could anyone perceive such a find or an

attempt to research it a threat?” Dr. Hufong was obviously scared and his
world had certainly not included the possibility of armed conflict.
“You’re assuming we were fired upon… aren’t you?” Sal was scowling from
his seat.
“It’s obvious isn’t it? I mean there was no warning or preparation.” Dr. Je
Ling interjected.
“Let me get this straight… we’re on a Chinese warship in the middle of the
night, we’re dead smack in the center of an international pissing contest
and we’re supposed to be politely kept up to speed. Give me a fucking
break. I just want off this ride.” Sal acidly responded.
218
“This is a peaceful mission under the protection of the United Nations. We
are attempting to preserve a World Heritage Site, one with utmost value to
all. I simply don’t see the point in…” Dr Hufong was drowned out by the roar
of near simultaneous missiles launching from their ship board containers.
“Aw shit …” Sal yelled and grabbed for the nearest handhold.
The Type 022 Houbei patrol craft again surged forward, throwing the two
Chinese specialists into a tangled ball of arms and legs. Sal and Daniel had
the advantage of being near the hull and hung on for dear life. The craft
began to execute a series of severe turns. The powerful thrust of the water
jets seemed to hesitate as the engines ground out a squealing noise. Sal
and Daniel starred at a smoldering ½ inch hole smoking at their feet and
looked up to find an identical cavity in the ceiling. It was then that a jet of
water shot out of the tunnel in the floor and a massive explosion rocked the
vessel now slumping in the water.

USS Freedom – Luzon Strait, North of the Philippines
The past hour had consumed every last shred of twenty-three years of
meticulous and dedicated naval experience Captain Terrance Hawkins could
muster. The new generation of integrated fleet defense systems
represented by his ship stretched the comprehension of any one individual.
He was honored to be surrounded by some of the brightest and committed
minds in warfare. The responsibilities assumed for his own vessel, much
less running point for the fleet, gave new meaning to the term “right stuff”.
Many in government had denounced the American all-volunteer armed

forces as the last resort of those who were too stupid or too poor to make it
any other way, ”What a crock of shit”, he thought. He was proud to be a
member of the world’s smartest, best trained and most dedicated force.
“Let the belly-aching, jellyfish members of Congress or the Senate try and
sit in these seats”, he ruminated internally.
“Sir, we have reached the coordinates indicated by the task force

commander and will be orienting with the rest of the task force to two eight
zero and dropping to 12 knots”, the Chief Petty Officer informed him.
“Chief, please advise the flag of our position and re-orientation. The
carrier will want to retrieve birds as soon as they can.”
219
“Aye-aye, sir. We will have new readings from the sonar teams ASAP.
Advise our helo to begin the dip and skip off the Babuyon chain. There’s
some awfully deep trenches there…”.
“OK, Chief make it happen.” Captain Hawkins hoped the Chinese were too
rattled to hide a sub or two off the coast of the Philippines. “That’ what our
helo’s ASW assets are for, right?” He winked at the non-commissioned
officer. The USS Freedom and the other ships of the Carrier Battle Group
would soon be oriented towards the south eastern coast of China and
waiting for more chips to fall.
He had been in the CIC when two of the carrier’s F-35s were ordered into
the middle of the developing hornets nest of the Spratly Islands. Satellite
feeds and the data streaming from the E2C Hawkeye had shown the
passage over the main island of Luzon and into the South China Sea.
It was in the blink of an eye that the missile tracks had appeared on the
displays and almost just as fast disappeared. The Chinese aircraft had kept
coming until the lead bird had drastically altered track and disappeared. The
rest had quickly bugged out. A roaring cheer had erupted in the room for
America’s new unseen heroes.
Over the last 40 minutes the craft had been joined by several more flights
and now totaled 4 F-35s, 6 F-18s and 12 F-15s from the Philippine Air Force
flying backup. An aging Philippine KC-135 aerial tanker had also joined the
mix to provide support, while an additional armada of various types and
ages lurked on the runways awaiting the orders to lift off.
The F-35s continued to fly a lazy eight over the west coast of the main
island as the rest concentrated to the north and south ends of the island
chain. The initial exchange of missiles had been a fairly even trade. Captain
Hawkins wondered what the Philippine brass could possibly be thinking. The
Chinese were competent warriors and he respected them.
The display of vessels in the area surrounding the Spratlys from Luzon to
Palawan showed a new entry. A Philippine vessel bearing a Cyclone class
type signature was seen heading from Palawan Island into the area of the
drilling rig. “Well they’re not there for rescue or retrieval, that’s an
intelligence vessel sometimes used for special ops…”, Captain Hawkins
noted as a change of course was displayed for the vessel, now heading
straight into the middle.
At that moment several new tracks were recorded. “Sir, initial missile
plumes vector an inbound group of three missiles from north of
Searborough Shoal on course for the Cyclone type vessel, estimate speed of
220
1500 knots. They appear to be ship to ship missiles sir”, the ensign sounded
out.
“Here we go again…”, Captain Hawkins said as he exhaled deeply and

watched. The F-35s on coastal patrol veered sharply to face the threat and
a feeling of déjà vu swept over him. Like before, the missiles winked out
one by one. The return now indicated as the source of the missiles began to
lose speed and then a large thermal plume was registered.
“Well I’ll be damned, glad they’re on our side!” He exclaimed as the

bridge erupted the second time that day.

Intelligence Headquarters - Beijing, China
The military region of Guangzhou held the center of China’s powerful

South Sea Fleet. The bustling region, known for the thriving international
commerce of Hong Kong, was also home to some of China’s largest shipping
ports. The military intelligence chief of that district had just ended a report
to General Ye Jiaao. The bad news was continuing to roll in.
They had suffered a sneaky and devious attack in the dead of night from
the puppets of the Americans… the Philippines. The initial attack had proven
the value of many of China’s recent upgrades in sea skimming missiles,
surface warships and intelligence technology. The cowardly action had cost
the attackers dearly. Instead of a show of defiance, it had resulted in
several sunken vessels and downed aircraft. His countrymen had responded
quickly and professionally.
As the orders were given to teach the aggressors a lesson, a flight of four
J-10 attack aircraft were given the mission of sinking any ship near the
Spratly conflict area and shooting any offending aircraft from the sky. They
never reached their target. One airplane had gone down in flames and the
flight was recalled after its missile salvo also disappeared. Now even more
losses were being reported. Whether electronic jamming or the new lasers,
the exchange had “Made in America” stamped all over it.
General Ye Jiaao was not confused. The American carrier battle group was
nearby. It was obvious to him that they had intervened. The loss of the
navy’s patrol craft with the mixed team of Chinese and western specialists
was just further confirmation. The Admiral commanding the South China
Sea Fleet was assembling a powerful armada that would sail in the morning.
In the mean time, his cautions were being ignored.
221
It had been a busy evening. His section was preparing plans to activate
sleeper agents on the break-away island of Taiwan. It was a festering thorn
in the Chinese side. The island was independent and defiant having not
been returned after Japanese domination during World War II. It had been
the refuge of the nationalist Chinese and Chiang Kai-shek who fled their
rout on the mainland by the Communist forces of Chairman Mao.
America had protected its infant democracy and free markets as Taiwan
had been allowed to blossom and mature outside the authoritarian grip of
the mainland. America was a distant and foreign power… and capitalist to
boot. It would be like China hovering over the islands of Alaska, insuring a
Communist government. No, Taiwan was Chinese territory and they wanted
it back.
China’s large investment in amphibious warfare capability was the real

reason for the nervousness of Taiwan’s leaders and the watchful eye of
America. The only reason for large transport docking ships, landing ships
and landing craft was to put a decisive force of tanks, and troops on foreign
shores across water. China’s only real threats were historically from land.
Tiny Taiwan had no hope or desire for invasion, so the only logical answer
remained… the Chinese desired to regain Taiwan… by force if required.
The Premier’s edict, in the form of a unanimous decision from the

Politburo, had been to use the distractions of the cyber attack on America to
proceed with plans to liberate Taiwan. The Spratly Island mess was just
sugar on a wonderful cookie waiting to be devoured.
General Ye Jiaao returned to his action list of agent profiles and

assignments. The list of targets was not that long. The real prize was Taipei,
the capital city of Taiwan and a center of Asian commerce. While they would
try to damage as little of the island’s infrastructure as possible, there was a
feeling that the Taiwanese would put up quite a fight. His provocateurs
would damage airfields, port facilities and major arteries for the
transportation of troops. The PLA Air Force felt it could provide air
dominance within several hours. With out air cover, the opposing forces
would be sitting ducks. The Chinese Army astride the Taiwan Straits was
ready and well supplied.
It was a good plan on paper, but the Americans were unpredictable. The
cyber attack was supposed to distract them and the invasion supposed to
be presented as a fate accompli. The battle would be over before the
Americans could respond. That was the theory anyway. He worried that the
Americans could protect the Philippines and offer Taiwan air cover at the
same time. An additional carrier battle group was already surging from the
coast of California and would be able to offer assistance, but not until next
222
week. In addition American aircraft were arriving in ever-greater numbers
in the Pacific islands of Wake and Guam. They were much closer and could
come to the island nation’s aid much sooner.
Those were reasons for caution, but the new weapons proved a necessity
for hesitation. China had no counter to the revolution in warfare the laser
weapons represented.

GRU Headquarters - Moscow, Russia
Lt. General Bakkunin seemed distracted. Maybe it was the reports from
renewed fighting in Chechnya or Russian induced exacerbation of tensions
in the Baltic republics of Estonia and Latvia. Maybe it was the feeling of a
renewed tightening of America’s grip on the border nations of the old Soviet
Union. Maybe he was really interested in opening a new bottle of vodka,
Col. Nikolei Andreev was not really sure he cared. He had left the spartan
offices with what he needed.
The orders for additional satellite reconnaissance of the American carrier

group operating in the waters of the Philippine Sea and a list of agents in
the Philippines, and now Taiwan, were more than he had dared to ask for. It
seemed odd that discovery of a new weapon system and a robotic airframe
to carry it had not even made the old warrior flinch. He was a decorated
veteran of Afghanistan and carried the scars to prove it. He needed more
concrete proof for eyes like the general’s.
The offhand mention of a secret channel for communication between the

intelligence services of Russia and China had almost made him drop the
folder containing the radar and ELINT intercepts. He had been given a Top
Secret temporary clearance to use the Directorate’s communications for an
exchange of data. They would show what evidence they had of the new
laser, but not a mention of the drones. The Lt. General had been clear… get
what you need, but be careful not to give more than you have to.
Entering a numeric sequence to unlock his office door, he was surprised to

find a sealed folder on the floor. It had obviously been delivered while
meeting with Lt. General Bakkunin. Col. Andreev walked around the scarred
corner of his desk and eased into the straight back wooden chair. He
opened the sealed manila envelope and began to read. It was an overview
of combat action that had taken place in the South China Sea around the
Spratly Islands over the last hour. The Chinese had been attacked by forces
223
from the Philippines. The initial engagements were a draw. “What idiots…”,
he muttered to himself.
The next few lines caused him to sit bolt upright. Chinese missiles had
been destroyed moments after release and then the lead aircraft. There
were no signs of opposing force. No radar returns. No air-to-air missile
tracks or infrared returns. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Just a brief burst of
encrypted electronic emissions amid the chatter of military and civilian
communications alluded to any other presence.
It was obvious. The Americans did not just have the drones in Alaska, but
there was something in the Pacific too. They not only had them… they were
operational. He dropped the report on his desk and grabbed for the phone.
He needed to talk to the Chinese now. Glancing at the clock, he dialed the
6th Intelligence Directorate’s communications department for access to a
secure line.

Local Time –11:43 AM – Monday November 19, 2012
The White House- Washington, DC
“As I was saying, even the most basic needs are going to be hard to
supply. Food, water, medical care and heating during the cold months; all
rely on electrical power and transmission lines. Fuel, clothing and even toilet
paper need to be transported, stored, sold and then consumed. The very
fabric of our nation will be difficult to maintain during the impact period and
at least several weeks to follow.” The grave visage of Philip Ruiz, Secretary
of Homeland Security, paused to catch his breath and registered the shock
and disbelief littered around the room.
He had been raised in the slums of El Paso and wondered if the concept of
poverty was even a concept that the elite members of the Cabinet could
grasp. The grinding misery of the poor, battling for the basic necessities of
life, “I haven’t even mentioned the environmental effects of acid rain, lung
damage from breathing contaminated air, chemical spills, outbreaks of
disease from uncollected garbage and the possibility of widespread chaos
and looting. Imagine New Orleans going national. There will be no
evacuation. No safe zone and no cavalry coming to the rescue.” Phillip Ruiz
looked at the ceiling, tied to imagine a scenario and then resumed.
“Okay look, try this; the ATM is out so you head to the 7-11, but its been
looted and the underground tanks siphoned dry. Next, you use what little
gas you have left, being very careful not to get tee-boned at intersections
because the lights don’t work. The trip to the store is not far, but you have
224
heard reports of roving gangs beating and robbing folks. The manager has
armed guards outside, if the store is still intact, and requires cash, or even
worse, gold or silver for what few items he has left on the shelves. You
leave with your meager purchases to return home to try and cook over the
open flame of a back yard barbecue because your electric is out. You try
and get water from the stream near your house, but the water has turned
reddish-brown and acidic. You have to use the bushes because your toilet
doesn’t work. It is night and the house is dark except for a few candles you
use sparingly, while the TV sits mutely in the corner… Am I getting
through?”
The Cabinet room was rarely as quiet except when empty. The Homeland
Secretary looked around and saw that the last analogy had hit home. Heads
were in hands, others looked at the ceiling, some were clearly scared and a
few were staring straight back at him. The President was one of them. It
was at that moment that he knew why he had left the governorship of the
state of New Mexico… to serve the nation with this man.
“Why don’t we just nuke these things in space? I mean we have the
inventory… don’t we? The Vice President, Samuel Meeks asked.
Secretary of Defense Robert Smalls frowned and answered, “Mr. Vice

President there are several technical difficulties involved… our ballistic
missiles forces were simply not designed for this sort of mission, but all that
is really irrelevant. If I understand NASA correctly the debris stream is so
vast that we would hardly make a dent… not to mention the potential
effects those weapons may have. We very well could do more harm than
good.”
Phil Ruiz stared at his hands folded on the table. He was suddenly
overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness. He was about to go into the ring
with a much larger and tougher opponent with his hands tied. All he could
do was try and mitigate the blows as they landed.
“Phil, I believe I can speak for the entire room… we get it. What do you
recommend?” The President met his gaze and then looked around the room
to bring the others back from the abyss of a waking nightmare.
“Sir under the powers granted you by the Stafford Act, the John Warner
Defense Authorization Act and the provisions of the constitution, I hereby
recommend that you declare a national imminent disaster of catastrophic
proportions and follow with the implementation of marshal law. This is to
include the freezing of all public and private sector security transactions and
limit banking. It will also cover wage and price freezes and government
control of all major transportation and energy infrastructure.”
225
Gasps and expletives were blurted out around the room. The
pandemonium grew to a roar that masked the entrance of a young, highly
decorated Army captain who leaned over Admiral Kinser’s shoulder and
whispered.
For the third time that morning the President had to slam his hands on
the table and this time shouted, “All right, let’s get a handle on this. It
seems…”, the President noticed Admiral Kinser, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs
rising from his chair. “Yes Admiral…”
“Over the last hour we have engaged the Chinese an area around the
Philippines. One of the new laser equipped F-35s shot down a plane and
possibly sunk one of her new missile boats. Satellites detect a large Chinese
task force being assembled near Hong Kong. The coast of China opposite
Taiwan indicates large troop movements amid a torrent of ELINT activity.
Sir, if I may be excused, I’d like to meet with the Joint Chiefs.”
The Vice President simply said, “Well… fuck me.”
226

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Part Three

(of Four Parts)

Mayan Calendar Date - 0.0.0.0.2

As he dismounted, he looked to the rising moon, which was now slipping

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

Captain Terrance Hawkins wore a no-nonsense expression that masked

He had deployed the towed sonar system (AN/SQR-20) for sub-surface

The USS Freedom was being backstopped by the USS Fitzgerald,

The battle group had received orders to provide an umbrella of defense

Daniel Compton, Dr. Hufong and Dr. Je Ling were in an animated

The site was like an underwater Teotihuacan of Central Mexico. It was

The assembled intellectuals looked at each other in shock. Everyone

A new appreciation of Sal Molina was verbalized by Daniel Compton. “Well

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

Thoughts like these coursed through General JG Edward’s brain like

“Contact the Colonel at Nellis in charge of the assembly program, ASAP”,

Things were very quickly pointing to a confrontation in the Pacific. He

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

The Russians were bullies to a certain extent. If they perceived a

EYES ONLY – COLONEL ANDREEV

Sunday, 12:47 AM local time (19:47 Saturday, Moscow Time) the

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

Standard profiles, such as take-offs and landings were programmed into

From target selection and prioritization to recognition of non-hostile

He had inserted a “command” module in each of the electronic brains and

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

Over the vast expanses of time, a dedicated group of individuals kept

Humanity would not listen to him, a plump academic sweating in a remote

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

30 stories of energetic commerce operated around the clock as the

The stunning drop of American markets had triggered an automatic

He was part of the bank’s team servicing several large trans-global

A loss of confidence in the integrity and security of the world’s digital

The next screen showed the relative value of international currencies. No

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.13.5 | 13 Chicchan 8 Chen

The last 30 years of “economic experimentation” attempting to let the

Peasants living in farm collectives and oppressed by corrupt officials railed

China’s leadership had lost a staggering sum of the national treasure

“What about the Americans?” he shot back.

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

The code-named Onyx intelligence platform glided silently through space

Its Synthetic Aperture Radar allowed for a three dimensional

“LightBird One, observe DEFCON 2 rules, defend yourself and any

As she descended gradually to the Viking’s altitude, the carrier began to

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

The tumultuous day had been spent between security meetings

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.8 | 11 Lamat 11 Ceh

“Thank you Mr. President. As I briefed the National Security Council

“The impacts of basketball to house sized debris traveling at speeds of 50-

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.9 | 12 Muluc 12 Ceh

The Western Command of the Philippine Armed Forces was in disarray at

“We have confirmation of inbound bogeys from a heading three two

“Affirmative One”, came the cool reply of her wingman.

Lt. Commander Welkins stopped breathing and accepted the computer’s

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.9 | 12 Muluc 12 Ceh

“I don’t understand… how could anyone perceive such a find or an

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.9 | 12 Muluc 12 Ceh

Many in government had denounced the American all-volunteer armed

“Sir, we have reached the coordinates indicated by the task force

“Here we go again…”, Captain Hawkins said as he exhaled deeply and

“Well I’ll be damned, glad they’re on our side!” He exclaimed as the

Mayan Calendar Date -12.19.19.16.9 | 12 Muluc 12 Ceh

The military region of Guangzhou held the center of China’s powerful