The Manhattan Incident Page 3

  “CISSTA, contact Campo Imperatore Near-Earth Object Survey in Italy. Using encryption, request per NATO’s Program Imminent Threat that CINEOS look at certain coordinates that you specify. Give them the current and projected coordinates of the objects. Tell them this is a direct request from NORAD. Give them my cell phone number for confirmation. Tell them this request is a Code Red highest priority.” Minutes pass quickly in the video; we hear the General’s cell phone rang. “Operations Manager, DeSilvio here.” The voice had a distinct Italian accent. “This is General Straub at NORAD. I am going to transfer you to an encrypted line. We watch as General Straub transfers the call to a locked phone on the desk. Munger hands him the key. General Straub picked up the phone and spoke. “I am confirming the request from CISSTA. This request is top secret, your eyes only. Do you understand?” “Confirmed, General Straub; I will send the results via the encrypted internet channel to CISSTA.” “DeSilvio, I also want you to call me back on encrypted line five nine two after sending the data. I want verbal confirmation of what you find.” General Straub still wasn’t 100% convinced that CISSTA hadn’t been hacked.

  About 30 minutes later according to the visible wall clock the encrypted desk phone rings. “Yes, the data just came in to CISSTA. What do you confirm?” The voice on the other end simply says, “Unidentified objects of artificial construction proceeding at rapid speed toward Earth.” The General replies “Thank you. This data is to remain for your eyes only. However, as a courtesy, contact General Antonio Umberto at the Aeronautica Militare Italiana and relay this message, UN First Contact meeting soon.” General Straub turns to Munger and says, “Good job, Munger. I think your career might start moving up finally. You will soon be promoted to Tech Sergeant.” He salutes Munger and leaves hurriedly to contact President Braddick Tomlinson. For the first time in years, Munger is shown smiling at his long overdue change of luck.

  General Straub sits at his NORAD command desk. It is now 6:01 AM on January 16th, 2020 according to the visible desk clock and calendar. He is shown reaching into the desk drawer and pulling out a bottle of Kentucky bourbon. He pours himself a finger of bourbon and downs it. The General grimaces, having run out of his favorite single malt scotch. Finally, he picks up the red desk phone which connects directly to the White House. A staff member answers. “You have reached the office of POTUS; how may I help you?” “This is General Straub at NORAD; I need to talk to POTUS immediately. Condition Red vector DEFCON.” “Yes, Sir, the President is in a cabinet meeting. I will page him immediately. Please hold.”

  President Braddick Tomlinson is seen sitting at a meeting of the Cabinet, listening to the Secretary of the Treasury talking about currency problems on the global scale. “The problem is being aggravated by the continued intransigence of the Chinese government agreeing publically to let their Yuan float, but giving it calculated support in secret.” Suddenly the President’s pager plays three bell rings. President Tomlinson knows that the three bells means urgency and that he has to respond immediately. He presses the connect button and listens via the ear bud. President Tomlinson is then shown standing up and leaving the room rapidly without a word. Of course, Secretary of the Treasury Foster wonders what is more urgent than the current global currency problem.

  The next scene shows President Tomlinson at the White House Oval office desk. He puts the desk phone on speaker and listens to General Straub’s report. Finally, he speaks. “What are your recommendations, General?” “I suggest we initiate operation Round House, yellow alert. I also recommend that we initiate Operation First Contact and convene a meeting at the UN in 48 hours.” “Thank you, General. Yellow brings us to DEFCON 3 which is unwarranted. We have no idea whether they are hostile. So I will authorize DEFCON 4, green alert. I will initiate the Operation First Contact protocol, but the UN meeting will be in 72 hours. I don’t think we could get the leaders and their militaries here on such short notice. That will be all, General.” General Straub is shown hanging up fuming and talking to the empty office room. “POTUS is a god-damned, spineless wimpy twink. The number of crafts coming our way is more than a greeting party. The important countries could be here in 48 hours. Screw the rest of them. They’ll only sit on their asses and let the USA do the heavy lifting.” He then takes another snort of bourbon to quiet his nerves.

  Unknown to both of them, the Israeli Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations (Mossad) has bugged the President’s office with the most technologically advanced bug ever. Debugging sweeps around the White House had failed to detect it. The bug was activated by speech and phone use. While the Israelis were allies, they routinely eavesdropped on their friend. One never knew when certain information would give them the edge among friends. Mossad Agent Moishe Berkowitz is shown in a nearby brownstone puzzling over the information he has just gleaned. He saw no advantage for Israel other than forewarned is forearmed. He was sure that the Israeli armed forces would go to a higher alert level that the US. He put the USB drive in an envelope and places the envelope into his attaché case. He exits the brownstone and heads out to the Israeli embassy.

  The video jumps to a figure in the shadows. Jaheed Williams watches from the alleyway where he is partially concealed. Williams needs a fix now, but has run out of cash. He sees the well-dressed man in the topcoat leave the brownstone and head his way. Jaheed smiles as he slinks back into the alley and hefts the short iron pipe in his hand. The mark would soon be his. Jaheed pounced out of the alley and caught Berkowitz squarely on the head with the pipe. Berkowitz goes down as blackness blurs his vision. Jaheed is shown going through the pockets and extracting the wallet. He smiles when he sees the stash of cash. He thinks it is enough for a good week of fixes. He grabs and opens the attaché case. “Just a damned envelope,” he mutters. Opening it, he looked at the contents. Nothing here is worth a damn. In disgust, he heaved the envelope with the USB drive into the street. Just then, Moishe Berkowitz regains consciousness and carefully looks up with one eye partly open. His hand closes on the concealed Walther PPK in his coat pocket. He edged it out slowly while Jaheed was looking to the side and throwing away the envelope. Berkowitz is shown aiming for the head, as the thick winter coat didn’t guarantee a knock out hit. The 380 barked once and Jaheed fell to the ground. Berkowitz tries to get up to retrieve the envelope but slumps back down into unconsciousness. Sirens are heard screaming in the background and the police and ambulance are shown arriving. The EMTs give their report to the nearby officer. “One is alive and will recover, but the other is dead.” Officer Woburn’s writes down likely robbery and self-defense on his report, based on the empty wallet, scattered cash, the bloody pipe and the wound on Berkowitz’s head. He would follow up in the hospital later.

  As the crowd of onlookers disperses, the video zooms in on Peter Vickers as he walks away. Peter had stopped on his way home from high school to see what all the excitement was about. Just another wonderful day in DC was his thought. As he crossed the street, he sees the envelope. He bends and picks it up. He sees the Israeli Government embossment and peeks inside. “Hmm, what do we have here?” He placed it in his pocket and ambled on home. Later that night, he inserted the USB drive into his laptop and activated the media function. As he listens, the words “General, President,” and “unknown space craft heading toward earth” are heard. “What the hell do I have here?” He answered himself, “Nothing good.”

  The next day Peter ran into his friend, James Morehouse in the high school hallway. “Hey, Jim, you still hot about Area 51 government conspiracies? Are you still active in the blogs and chat-rooms?” “Yeah, sure; why do you ask?” “I got something big for you. You’ll love it for your blog. It might be big stuff. Here it is. You didn’t get it from me. I want nothing to do with it. I think it came from the Israeli embassy.” Jim pocketed it and walked away. Later that night, James listened with rapt attention. Wow, he thought. I’ll be the big man on the A-51 blog. He tapped away into the night on his laptop.

  Next morning, Ja
nuary 17th was windy and cold. Jim went to his laptop right after waking, even before peeing. He had some new tweaks he wanted to add to his blog. “What the fuck?” Jim’s facial expression is clearly annoyed. His blog was no longer on the web. On the screen close-up, there is an apologetic note from the web server about temporary technical difficulties. Just then on the video we hear lots of commotion downstairs. Jim hears voices he doesn’t recognize. Suddenly he heard his dad screaming. “You can’t do this! This is bullshit!” We see the door to his bedroom fly open with a sharp bang. Two men in dark suits enter. Jim knew immediately with a sinking feeling that he had zeroed in on something the government didn’t want known. Jim could hear his younger sister screaming as he was dragged down the stairs in handcuffs. At least the suits did allow him to pee before loading Jim and his family into black SUVs. They would be held incommunicado until the news could no longer be contained.

  Unbeknownst to Jim, President Braddick Tomlinson had declared the space craft sightings top secret, to be kept from the public for as long as possible. The task to keep the lid on was assigned to the NSA under the pretense of protecting national security against foreign terrorists. Other governments around the world took a similar stance. All hoped to prevent panic and be in a better position to control disruptions and whatever riots might arise once the news was out. All knew that the information blackout could not continue forever. Someone would ultimately leak the news. That same day anyone who had read Jim’s latest update to the Area 51 blog in the few minutes before it was removed disappeared in a similar fashion across the globe. All governments, and especially the NSA, had gotten extremely savvy at monitoring blogs and internet activity. For those less savvy, the NSA had provided them with the information.

  Agent Berkowitz was also trapped in the same web. He had made the mistake of using his cell phone while a patient at the George Washington University Hospital to contact Mossad. His calls were routinely tapped by FBI wiretaps, as he had been recognized as a Mossad agent some months ago. His call was intercepted and the terms POTUS and bug caught the FBI monitoring agent’s quick attention. He was promptly placed under arrest at the hospital and held incommunicado at a secret government medical facility to prevent his further spreading of the message beyond Mossad. Mossad already had the news, so no harm was done. Israel had already clamped a lid of secrecy on the information. President Tomlinson had briefed the Israeli government along with all other nations when issuing the call for an emergency first contact UN meeting. Based on the FBI’s tap of Agent Berkowitz cell phone, the voice activated bugs were subsequently discovered and removed from the President’s office.

  Keeping secrets is not always easy. Something always goes wrong. For starters, Jim’s disappearance along with his family didn’t go unnoticed. A neighbor across the street, Maria Longo, happened to be awake getting ready for work. As she raised the living room shade, Maria noticed the two black SUVs in front of the Morehouse dwelling. She grabbed her cell phone and took a few photos, being careful to include the license plates. In a few minutes, Maria was astounded to see the family being dragged to the SUVs in handcuffs, including Jim and his young, kicking and screaming sister. Incensed, Maria used her cell phone to take a short video, being careful not to be seen.

  After the SUVs left, she went to YouTube and downloaded the video. Maria entitled it “Men in Black Drag Law Abiding Family Away.” Next the neighbor called the DC police. The DC police listened to the neighbor and accepted faxed copies of the license plate photos. At the Station they downloaded the video. They were angry at seeing the little girl being dragged kicking and screaming in handcuffs. The Washington Post reporter covering the Police blotter happened to be nearby and heard the officers venting anger about the little girl. He came over and asked what was going on. The police showed him the photos and the video. The police were baffled, as a search of the vehicles plates turned up nothing. They didn’t exist in any vehicle registry data.

  It didn’t take long for government abuse video to start going viral. Comments appeared about secret police, Nazis, government abuse of power, and so forth. The GS plates were a dead giveaway. The NSA spooks tried to shut down YouTube, but they were too late. You Tube refused to give in to their demands, even when threatened. The video was already traveling faster around the Internet than they could shut down sites. Public distrust of government slid downward even more than usual. Speculation ran rampant on the web.

  Given the strange circumstances, the Washington Post reporter wrote it up as government abuse of power, complete with photos and the video site. NSA threatened the newspaper, but the Editor refused to stop the presses, citing freedom of speech. Queries to the FBI by the reporter turned up nothing. The Bureau denied having anything to do with the family’s disappearance. So did the United States Department of Justice. Given the plates not being traceable added to the mystery. No government agency seemed willing to own up. The headline read “Family Abducted by Mysterious Government Agency.” Soon reports of other missing families around the United States appeared, followed by reports of families disappearing in other countries. It didn’t take long for the connection to be made that all the families had one thing in common, a young male who was a computer geek that was active in the Area 51 blog. Rumors began to swirl that Area 51 might really have aliens after all. No one made the connection that extraterrestrials might actually be on their way, at least not yet.

  Pressure mounted as all the aging parents of the missing Morehouse family held a joint news conference with the ACLU to denounce the government and to demand answers. The ACLU lawyer promised to petition the Supreme Court of the United States for an immediate hearing to force the responsible government agency to come forward to explain its role and release the family immediately or present justified charges for their retention. All the major networks carried the conference. The public was outraged and demanded answers. Congressional Democrats sensed an opportunity to go after President Tomlinson and quickly established a special investigative committee to look into the abuse of power and began to subpoena numerous agency heads and various staff members in the White House.

  The National Security Agency, the NSA, was caught with their pants down, so to speak, when the Washington Post article appeared and the fallout became highly evident. They had a dilemma. Under cover of the NSA warrantless surveillance program, a controversial eavesdropping without a warrant program was created by President George Bush under the so-called war on terror. It was continued under President Obama and up through successive presidents to President Tomlinson. The problem was that there was no foreign communications involved that allowed monitoring of US recipients. This was strictly an abuse of power given the domestic-only communications. The NSA had acted under direct orders from President Tomlinson. However, only the NSA Director and the Secretary of Defense knew the truth, which was that the foreign supposed terrorists really didn’t exist on Earth, at least not yet.

  The straw that broke the camel’s back was the subpoena that arrived for the Director of the NSA, Admiral Sebastian Hawthorne. Admiral Hawthorne contacted his superior, the Secretary of Defense, General Milo Thadford. The discussion didn’t go well. Both men hung up very angry at each other.

  While those events were going on in Washington, DC, another significant happening was simultaneously gearing up in New York. Twenty nine days before THE INCIDENT, one day after the Moon-Mars sighting, all nations agreed to a secretive military emergency meeting called by President Tomlinson, the First Contact meeting, in the United Nations. The meeting was scheduled for January 19, 2020. Rumors buzzed as all the important world leaders and generals began arriving at the New York airports over the next few days and heading in black limousines toward the UN. Numerous black limousines pulled up at the UN. Reporters pried everywhere, but found no information. Some reports surfaced on the internet of more fighter jet activities than usual near military bases in many areas globally. The usual government sources kept their lips zipped. No one was talking. Report
er Alexi Utkin of the NY Times sent out a brief squirt to his sources on the street, as did undoubtedly many other reporters and newscasters.

  The video now shows the New York Times Building on the west side of midtown Manhattan and next we zoom in to an office where we see a wall office calendar with January 18th, 2020 circled. Jack, the maintenance man, comes into Alexi Utkin’s office early in the morning to empty the recycling bins. While going by Alexi’s desk, he discretely drops a note onto the desktop. Alexi scans the note and reads “My cousin, Elmer Tolbero, in food service at the UN might have some useful information. Meet him at 12 noon in the nearby Cibo’s Italian Restaurant on Murray Hill. You pay.” Alexi then discretely passes a $100 bill to Jack. Alexi decided to go for it. The United Nations certainly had something big coming up. When it was close enough for lunch, Alexi grabbed his winter coat and ran from the office. For once his hail gets a taxi quickly and arrives at Cibo’s restaurant on time. Alexi realized he did not know what Jack’s cousin looked like. Smiling, the hostess welcomed him. Alexi said, “I’m here to meet a man called Elmer who works in maintenance at the UN.” “He’s over in the corner. He said that he was expecting someone with a nice suit.” “Hi, Elmer, I’m Alexi Utkin of the New York Times. What’s a good dish here?” “Try the clam linguini. It’s my favorite.”