51
by Zak Cole
Prologue: Remembrance
Jack Ryan was in the Oval Office, looking over recent satellite photographs of the World Trade Center site. Ryan was still coping with what had happened. Four weeks earlier, America had been attacked, an attack that was far more devastating than the events of December 7, 1941. On September 11, 2001; planes had crashed into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, terrorists ran through the streets of Manhattan on a killing rampage, and the V- POTUS, or Vice President of the United States, had been brutally assassinated. Ryan, Robby Jackson and the new V- POTUS, Ezekiel Thames, had flown right into NYC, trying to save Jack's wife, First Lady Caroline Ryan, who had been the main target of the attacks. Their only luck was that no more attacks had been made, and that after President Roger Durling had been killed in the Capitol building, the security of Washington had toughened, even more so after the attack on the Pentagon.
CHAPTER 1:
Ryan heard a knock on the left door to the Office, and called the visitor in. Zeke Thames stepped into the room.
"What is it?"
"Jack, stuff is going on. We've been getting called 24/7 about the safety of the nation, and you haven't said a thing to the public."
"I've been busy."
"Sure, and I'm not." He paused and sighed. "I'll leave this to someone else."
"Zeke why are you here?"
"I guess I was just checking up on a friend. Are you okay? It's Vice President..."
"You're job now."
"Don't avoid it, Jack. Any day I could run away and leave the Speaker of the House to step in." Jack looked up and smiled.
"What is it?", Ryan said for the second time.
"Well, you should visit ground Zero..."
"When? Can I talk to the families?"
"Look, I don't know." At that moment, the President secretary walked into the room, and handed Thames a piece of paper.
"What?", Jack said, his voice weary.
"You'll be busy as hell today."
"Like what?"
"From what she just handed me, you'll be meeting with the guy who saved both of our asses."
"Trent Easton, NSA head?"
"Yes."
"He saved my life two years ago, Zeke."
"Mine, too. Okay, Ben Goodley, your...?"
"National Security Advisor."
"Right. Said this morning that after you give that speech", Thames paused for Ryan to moan, "you're going to Area 51."
"What?"
"You'll be meeting with the NSA head", Ben Goodley said as he opened one of the doors. "You'll be meeting with him in a hour. Cheer up, Jack, maybe you'll learn how to fly a saucer." And with that, Jack Ryan's National Security Advisor left to finish arranging the schedule for the president's day.
Two hours and fifty- one minutes later, Trent Easton walked past the China Room, and was thinking about his presentation to Jack Ryan.
What should I say?
What the cards tell me to, dummy. He won't last long.
At the entrance of the O.O., he was thoroughly searched, and was cleared. As Easton approached the door, he motioned for his presentation team to follow. He was patted down a second time, and the intimidating, white door was opened. The president stood up, and shook hands with him.
"Hello, Mr. President." Jack motioned for Trent to sit before he began his mini- letchure, along Trent was older than himself.
"Trent, before I got 'elected', before I was the National Security Advisor, I was a pretty normal guy. Four years ago I was in Maine to help stop a corrupt chemical company. you know this, you were there. Some mercenaries from the company tried to take us down by flooding the town, flooding it with contaminated water. You got me out, you got Zeke out, and a lot of others. You're a hero." Ryan skipped a beat, and continued; "By the way, in here, the name's Jack." Ryan saw the confused look on the NSA Director's face. Actually, he was not in surprise at all, but Ryan did not know that., Jack explained.
"It's something I do." Easton didn't know how to respond, and just ignored the lecture.
"Ready for some classified history?"
"Area 51?" Back to business, Jack.
"That's my question: is it real?" Like most government agents, he believed that all of the "conspiracy theories" were bluffs by the government to distract citizens or the occasional fanatic.
"You'd be surprised. They really helped us out in the Second Persian gulf War last year."
"You mean... no aliens?" As way of reply, Trent laughed until he became short- of- breathe.
"Jack, try not to feel stupid. Most people don't even know about it. Ever since '62, when the Kennedy's stopped Majestic 12..." Instantly, Jack's hands shot up as if to block a punch.
" Look, I don't care what Hollywood says, I really don't want to hear about conspiracy theories."
" I don't believe that one, either. I know it was the Cubans..."
"Jesus H. Christ ! Okay, I have one question. What does all of this have to do with September 11?"
"Jack, I'm not the right person to ask. It has something to do with that, because your SecDef is the one who told me to brief you."
"Okay. When am I going?"
"How the hell would I know?" Easton walked to the right- side door, and four nameless NSA and Secret Service agents entered the room, where they promptly searched for bugs ( out of habit and security). When they were finished, one closed the shades, turned off the lights, and brought in a projector.
"Trent, there is a movie room down the hall..."
"Ryan, shut it. We've only got twenty minutes." POTUS leaned back in his chair, and protested no more.
The movie started ten seconds later. The first image to appear on the screen was a date: May 14, 1947.
"What's this about?", Ryan asked.
"It's an important date. Just watch." The image then changed to an airplane, what looked like a very old aircraft by it's model.
"This", Easton began, " is a small passenger aircraft, at the Leningrad Airport. On June 30, this airplane left, unsheculded, from this airport. The next afternoon, it was first detected on American radar, flying over California. From June 2 to June 4, the military monitored it's movements. On the early morning of July 4, a fighter pilot saw the plane, and seeing it's Soviet markings, he thought it was Pearl Harbor all over again, and jumped the gun. It crashed in a field in Roswell, New Mexico. It was discovered by a the farmer that owned the land. Well, he saw an eighty- foot crater in his backyard, and called authorities.
"At first, we couldn't make the connection. we had lost radar detection with the aircraft before it had went over New Mexico, and all we knew was that something Soviet had crashed smack in the middle of America, and Jack, we basically freaked. We sent out two groups: the 509 bomb group and an agency called Majestic. We didn't know if it was a Soviet jet, a German atom bomb, or a goddamned alien UFO. We closed off the site, and also sent in the FBI and the U.S. Army. But, even before we told Truman, we told everyone that it was an UFO, then a weather balloon. The truth of the matter was it was an airplane, an airplane with eighteen Soviet defectors scattered to peaches around it."
"We didn't know what to say to the Russians. After all of the confrontations between them and us, we thought that it would be bad if we told them that we had shot an airplane full of their citizens, defecting or not. After that, we came up with the UFO story, then the weather balloon, mainly because it was closer to the truth."
" FBI decided that the documents should be classified for sixty years. I think that was a record for the U.S. government. That means that all hard evidence pointing to the truth, expect for the video that we showed you, was burned decades ago." With that, Easton sat back down.
"So, that's the story of Roswell?", asked Ryan.
"Yeah. But, I never said anything about Area 51. Roswell started it."
"Tell me."
"Jack, don't have the time. We'll finish this "chat" when you drop by." Easton prepared his group to leave, but Ryan stopped Trent.
"yeah?"
"I was just wondering: why are you telling me this, and some general?"
" because the head of the NSA is also the Director of Area 51. See ya, Jack."
"Yeah." Easton left, and the president sat back in his chair, waiting for his next appointment.
Five men of Middle eastern features and heritage at a New York hotel was frowned upon. After the Attacks On America, people unconsciously began to discriminate against Arabs and Muslims. If it was not a verbal or physical insult, it was a dirty look an American Caucasian gave to someone who was different. This would of bothered any man of Middle Eastern origin, even more so for men that knew that they should be feared and hated.
Many terrorist had "visited" the United States on September 11, and these men were on the same mission, although it was different in many ways. For the men involved, their mission would be far grander in it's effects than the previous ones, or so they thought.
Thankfully, they had recently moved to a much smaller motel in upstate New York. Of the five involved in the operation, only two were present in the motel. Their names were Muhammad Aumm and Jerrizaa Laddbin.
"How was your day?", Aumm asked in an uncharacteristic tone.
"It was strange. Today, I used a pay phone. I also found out that these Americans charge their own people for leaving the state!" as Laddbin was saying this, Aumm felt that it was time his friend of American ways.
"Jerrizaa, you seem to be forgetting one thing. In Afghanistan, you must have papers to leave."
"True, Aumm, but... I hate these Americans! The way they spend money, the way they all have cars, the way they are ignoring countries that are in greater need than themselves!"
"I agree, Jerrizaa. But, you know that their country, as a direct result of our actions, will go into a devastating lapse. That will lead to their collapse."
"Yes, Aumm."
by Zak Cole
Prologue: Remembrance
Jack Ryan was in the Oval Office, looking over recent satellite photographs of the World Trade Center site. Ryan was still coping with what had happened. Four weeks earlier, America had been attacked, an attack that was far more devastating than the events of December 7, 1941. On September 11, 2001; planes had crashed into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, terrorists ran through the streets of Manhattan on a killing rampage, and the V- POTUS, or Vice President of the United States, had been brutally assassinated. Ryan, Robby Jackson and the new V- POTUS, Ezekiel Thames, had flown right into NYC, trying to save Jack's wife, First Lady Caroline Ryan, who had been the main target of the attacks. Their only luck was that no more attacks had been made, and that after President Roger Durling had been killed in the Capitol building, the security of Washington had toughened, even more so after the attack on the Pentagon.
CHAPTER 1:
Ryan heard a knock on the left door to the Office, and called the visitor in. Zeke Thames stepped into the room.
"What is it?"
"Jack, stuff is going on. We've been getting called 24/7 about the safety of the nation, and you haven't said a thing to the public."
"I've been busy."
"Sure, and I'm not." He paused and sighed. "I'll leave this to someone else."
"Zeke why are you here?"
"I guess I was just checking up on a friend. Are you okay? It's Vice President..."
"You're job now."
"Don't avoid it, Jack. Any day I could run away and leave the Speaker of the House to step in." Jack looked up and smiled.
"What is it?", Ryan said for the second time.
"Well, you should visit ground Zero..."
"When? Can I talk to the families?"
"Look, I don't know." At that moment, the President secretary walked into the room, and handed Thames a piece of paper.
"What?", Jack said, his voice weary.
"You'll be busy as hell today."
"Like what?"
"From what she just handed me, you'll be meeting with the guy who saved both of our asses."
"Trent Easton, NSA head?"
"Yes."
"He saved my life two years ago, Zeke."
"Mine, too. Okay, Ben Goodley, your...?"
"National Security Advisor."
"Right. Said this morning that after you give that speech", Thames paused for Ryan to moan, "you're going to Area 51."
"What?"
"You'll be meeting with the NSA head", Ben Goodley said as he opened one of the doors. "You'll be meeting with him in a hour. Cheer up, Jack, maybe you'll learn how to fly a saucer." And with that, Jack Ryan's National Security Advisor left to finish arranging the schedule for the president's day.
Two hours and fifty- one minutes later, Trent Easton walked past the China Room, and was thinking about his presentation to Jack Ryan.
What should I say?
What the cards tell me to, dummy. He won't last long.
At the entrance of the O.O., he was thoroughly searched, and was cleared. As Easton approached the door, he motioned for his presentation team to follow. He was patted down a second time, and the intimidating, white door was opened. The president stood up, and shook hands with him.
"Hello, Mr. President." Jack motioned for Trent to sit before he began his mini- letchure, along Trent was older than himself.
"Trent, before I got 'elected', before I was the National Security Advisor, I was a pretty normal guy. Four years ago I was in Maine to help stop a corrupt chemical company. you know this, you were there. Some mercenaries from the company tried to take us down by flooding the town, flooding it with contaminated water. You got me out, you got Zeke out, and a lot of others. You're a hero." Ryan skipped a beat, and continued; "By the way, in here, the name's Jack." Ryan saw the confused look on the NSA Director's face. Actually, he was not in surprise at all, but Ryan did not know that., Jack explained.
"It's something I do." Easton didn't know how to respond, and just ignored the lecture.
"Ready for some classified history?"
"Area 51?" Back to business, Jack.
"That's my question: is it real?" Like most government agents, he believed that all of the "conspiracy theories" were bluffs by the government to distract citizens or the occasional fanatic.
"You'd be surprised. They really helped us out in the Second Persian gulf War last year."
"You mean... no aliens?" As way of reply, Trent laughed until he became short- of- breathe.
"Jack, try not to feel stupid. Most people don't even know about it. Ever since '62, when the Kennedy's stopped Majestic 12..." Instantly, Jack's hands shot up as if to block a punch.
" Look, I don't care what Hollywood says, I really don't want to hear about conspiracy theories."
" I don't believe that one, either. I know it was the Cubans..."
"Jesus H. Christ ! Okay, I have one question. What does all of this have to do with September 11?"
"Jack, I'm not the right person to ask. It has something to do with that, because your SecDef is the one who told me to brief you."
"Okay. When am I going?"
"How the hell would I know?" Easton walked to the right- side door, and four nameless NSA and Secret Service agents entered the room, where they promptly searched for bugs ( out of habit and security). When they were finished, one closed the shades, turned off the lights, and brought in a projector.
"Trent, there is a movie room down the hall..."
"Ryan, shut it. We've only got twenty minutes." POTUS leaned back in his chair, and protested no more.
The movie started ten seconds later. The first image to appear on the screen was a date: May 14, 1947.
"What's this about?", Ryan asked.
"It's an important date. Just watch." The image then changed to an airplane, what looked like a very old aircraft by it's model.
"This", Easton began, " is a small passenger aircraft, at the Leningrad Airport. On June 30, this airplane left, unsheculded, from this airport. The next afternoon, it was first detected on American radar, flying over California. From June 2 to June 4, the military monitored it's movements. On the early morning of July 4, a fighter pilot saw the plane, and seeing it's Soviet markings, he thought it was Pearl Harbor all over again, and jumped the gun. It crashed in a field in Roswell, New Mexico. It was discovered by a the farmer that owned the land. Well, he saw an eighty- foot crater in his backyard, and called authorities.
"At first, we couldn't make the connection. we had lost radar detection with the aircraft before it had went over New Mexico, and all we knew was that something Soviet had crashed smack in the middle of America, and Jack, we basically freaked. We sent out two groups: the 509 bomb group and an agency called Majestic. We didn't know if it was a Soviet jet, a German atom bomb, or a goddamned alien UFO. We closed off the site, and also sent in the FBI and the U.S. Army. But, even before we told Truman, we told everyone that it was an UFO, then a weather balloon. The truth of the matter was it was an airplane, an airplane with eighteen Soviet defectors scattered to peaches around it."
"We didn't know what to say to the Russians. After all of the confrontations between them and us, we thought that it would be bad if we told them that we had shot an airplane full of their citizens, defecting or not. After that, we came up with the UFO story, then the weather balloon, mainly because it was closer to the truth."
" FBI decided that the documents should be classified for sixty years. I think that was a record for the U.S. government. That means that all hard evidence pointing to the truth, expect for the video that we showed you, was burned decades ago." With that, Easton sat back down.
"So, that's the story of Roswell?", asked Ryan.
"Yeah. But, I never said anything about Area 51. Roswell started it."
"Tell me."
"Jack, don't have the time. We'll finish this "chat" when you drop by." Easton prepared his group to leave, but Ryan stopped Trent.
"yeah?"
"I was just wondering: why are you telling me this, and some general?"
" because the head of the NSA is also the Director of Area 51. See ya, Jack."
"Yeah." Easton left, and the president sat back in his chair, waiting for his next appointment.
Five men of Middle eastern features and heritage at a New York hotel was frowned upon. After the Attacks On America, people unconsciously began to discriminate against Arabs and Muslims. If it was not a verbal or physical insult, it was a dirty look an American Caucasian gave to someone who was different. This would of bothered any man of Middle Eastern origin, even more so for men that knew that they should be feared and hated.
Many terrorist had "visited" the United States on September 11, and these men were on the same mission, although it was different in many ways. For the men involved, their mission would be far grander in it's effects than the previous ones, or so they thought.
Thankfully, they had recently moved to a much smaller motel in upstate New York. Of the five involved in the operation, only two were present in the motel. Their names were Muhammad Aumm and Jerrizaa Laddbin.
"How was your day?", Aumm asked in an uncharacteristic tone.
"It was strange. Today, I used a pay phone. I also found out that these Americans charge their own people for leaving the state!" as Laddbin was saying this, Aumm felt that it was time his friend of American ways.
"Jerrizaa, you seem to be forgetting one thing. In Afghanistan, you must have papers to leave."
"True, Aumm, but... I hate these Americans! The way they spend money, the way they all have cars, the way they are ignoring countries that are in greater need than themselves!"
"I agree, Jerrizaa. But, you know that their country, as a direct result of our actions, will go into a devastating lapse. That will lead to their collapse."
"Yes, Aumm."
