Quantum Touch Collection - Books 1-3

Excerpt from Quantum Touch Collection - Books 1-3

“YOU'RE TELLING ME the world is a dangerous place? Me?” The man's patrician arrogance stormed the phone. “You've continued to do what you want because the world remains a dangerous place.” Standing at his window, the Washington Monument as a backdrop, he scoffed at the little people below, scurrying from place to place. As if they were important. “We need to proceed carefully,” he said in a calmer tone. “Not knowing what they know, we can't allow what we know to make us careless.”

The man sat down behind the mahogany desk in his elegantly decorated office. Photographs of himself with the power elite of a generation covered the walls. Gray-haired, immaculately attired in a Savile Row gray pinstripe, he kicked off his shoes. The calfskin loafers breathed while his toes caressed the plush carpet.

He switched the phone to his other ear. “I don't care what it costs. The result will be worth it many times over. We need to mix in the Arabs, so try the Eledorians. They're already suspects. You know the rest. Get them ready. We'll know when the time is right.”

* * *

AT FOUR THIRTY, two black Suburbans pulled up in front of the Russell house. Fritz had been watching and walked outside to meet the president. More people than he had expected climbed from the cars. The First Lady had come along, as she had in the spring. The president introduced the others. Fritz said hello to Tom Andrews, head of the president's Secret Service detail and agent James Williams and then spotted Mel Zack, still in the driver's seat of the second Suburban.

The president said, “Tom is taking the team to The Mill to get security set up for when we go to dinner. They'll be back later.” Overwhelmed in more than numbers alone, Fritz refused to let the intimidating company dictate whatever his decision needed to be.

An attractive young woman with a mischievous look examined Ashley's car. “Nice ride,” said the president. “Ash's baby?” Fritz nodded.

Fritz's wife, Linda, and his friend and fellow teacher, Ashley Gilbert, stepped out on the landing. Ashley stared, then coughed and cleared his throat when introduced to Dr. Jane Barclay from the Department of Homeland Security.

“Uh oh,” Fritz whispered to Linda.

“Yup,” she whispered back.

Fritz invited his visitors into the family room. Late afternoon sun reflected off the flat screen TV on the wall. Ashley brought extra chairs from the dining room and claimed a seat where he would be able to keep an eye on Dr. Barclay. His place secure, he went to help Linda bring in the snacks.

While the others found seats, Fritz and the president pulled two of the dining room chairs to the middle of the room, facing each other. “Fritz, I've brought some of the people who are most involved in protecting the country,” the president said. “They know what you did last spring. They also know about the portal. This meeting is top secret, of course.”

Fritz nodded to each of the president's advisers. “What is it that you have in mind?”

The president said, “You mean, what do I want?”

“I was trying to be polite, but yeah, what do you want from me this time?”

“Fritz, the Narians have completed their nuclear project. Forget what they say, it's a weapons program. I'm talking about an imminent nuclear threat, and they're in the starting gate. Israel is weighing its options. We're doing everything we can to hold the Israelis back, but I don't know for how much longer.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“We,” he swept his hand toward his advisers, “have discussed possible scenarios where your help might be, well, helpful. I know you're hesitant, but no one else can unlock travel across time and space. No one else can open the portal. I want to fill you in on our analysis and to talk with you about how much and what kinds of things you would be willing to do.”

“Mr. President, as I told you last night, I'm a teacher. I love what I do, and I like working with the kids.” With an abrupt jolt, he absorbed a new reality: his boredom with teaching had evaporated. “If I can help, you know I will. But I still don't know all the things about the portal that might make a difference. We both know how it opens, but beyond that, I don't know what the consequences of using it might be. And we both know it can be dangerous.” He rubbed his cheek for effect, but the small scar from his quick visit into the past served as a reminder. His face and that billy club couldn't exist in the same space at the same time, even across eighty years.

Linda spoke up. “Mr. President, I'm afraid that using the portal might have a negative impact on all of us. It's not that I don't want Fritz to help, but I don't want him in danger. Or changing history. Or the future.” She placed a hand on her growing belly.

“Linda, that's why we came. We think it's important, but we still want your input, and we wanted to meet in a less intimidating place than the White House.”

“Mr. President,” said Fritz. “Tell us what you think you'll need.”

“We've been considering some of the world's hot spots. I'm sure you know that the situation in Eledoria is still unresolved. It's quiet right now, but…” Fritz nodded.

The CIA director said, “Mr. Russell, we have people on the ground who have infiltrated Narian research centers and given us key locations. In addition to our not wanting the Narians to get the bomb, we are concerned that nuclear material will find its way to market. We need to stop them before it does. If the Israelis move soon, we may lose the ability to control this thing.”

“In other words,” said the president, “we can't openly attack, and we don't want Israel to do it. That could mean warfare throughout the Middle East, or worse. No one will win that fight.”

“So let me get this straight,” said Fritz. “You need the portal so you can blow up the Narian bomb program?”

The secretary of defense said, “It's more than that. Before we can destroy the facilities, we need to extract computers and confiscate the research they've completed. We want the program crippled well into the future.”

Fritz looked at the president. “At least you have something easy for me.” He sighed and looked at his wife.

Linda asked, “Are you bringing any radioactive material into the school?”

“No,” said the president. “There's far too much. We'll leave it. We want to incapacitate the facilities, make them toxic, unable to be rebuilt.”

Fritz asked, “And you know exactly where? I assume it's underground.”

“We hope we have all the locations.”

“You want me to help you do all this. Are you nuts?” Around him, his visitors sounded like a chorus of straws at the bottom of a finished milkshake, shocked he would speak like that to the president. As he scanned their faces, he questioned if any of them had ever been asked to do anything as difficult.

The president ignored the gasps, and rather than anger him, Fritz's comment amused him. “I've been called worse. Yes, Fritz, not only do I want your help, but I think we need it. And obviously we're going to need the school. There's an eight-and-a-half-hour time difference, so we should be able to accomplish everything while school is out.”

“When are you thinking of doing this?” Linda asked.

“Within the next couple of weeks. We don't have much of a window.”

“So all I need to do is put the paperclips in place or take your already paper-clipped papers and open the door?”

“That's it,” said the president. “If this works, I don't think I need to tell you how much trouble you will have prevented.”