appointed to the position of senator of the state of West Virginia, built a house worthy of the new nation’s capital. During the War of 1812, the British forces led by Major General Robert Ross occupied the house and made it his base of operations. Many public buildings were destroyed during the skirmishes, but due to the quartering of British troops there, the Berkshire House was spared.
Adding to its colorful history, cameras and audio equipment were installed in most of the rooms during the Cold War. This made the Berkshire House a preferred location for entertaining certain Eastern European foreign dignitaries. And now, it would house the incoming Temporal.
“Yes, Lieutenant Harrison has been of considerable help already,” Marcus said while sitting in the chair at the head of the table.
General Gordon spoke as he let his heavy frame fall into the chair to the right of Marcus. “Admiral Hartling, Vice Admiral Cunnings, and I will be managing the operation from here. We have dozens of planes ready for immediate takeoff across the globe. There are but a few locations in the world that we cannot reach within the hour.”
The two other men at the table sat down in front of their respective screens.
“Good,” said Marcus. He used his arms as a brace while leaning on the table to maintain eye level with the three seated men. “I am sure each of you understands the importance of keeping sensitive information secret. I cannot go into the nature of whom you will be transporting, but it is of absolute importance that they be picked up safely, quickly, and most importantly, quietly. I need to know that everyone here is with me before I give the first coordinate. Do you swear to obey my commands—within this mandate—and never tell a living soul of it?”
While General Gordon stared unblinkingly at Marcus, the other two men, who had not been as thoroughly briefed by the president, looked at each other wondering what the meeting was really about.
One of the men, Vice Admiral Cunnings, shook his head. “We are members of the president’s council, the Chief of Staff. And yet, we don’t know exactly who or what we are transporting. While I can accept taking orders without complete information from the president, I find it odd that—and I mean no disrespect—I should take orders with incomplete knowledge from civilians—especially civilians of other countries.”
“Completely understandable,” said Marcus, “but I’m afraid you will have to leave.”
Both the admiral and the vice admiral were on their feet. “This is most irregular,” said Admiral Hartling with his fists firmly planted on his hips and his chest thrust out.
Marcus held up his hand and waited for the two to settle down. “It is most unusual, and admiral, under any other situation, I would be in total agreement with you. All I will say is this. The Manhattan Project was conducted within extraordinary secrecy and yet spies infiltrated the program. The potential devastation from a failure to maintain a tight blanket of secrecy today could result in many times the explosive power of an atomic bomb. While I cannot know the end result of failure, many worldwide deaths and much sorrow will at the very least occur. Do you, gentlemen, all swear to obey my voice—within the stated mandate from the president—and maintain absolute secrecy?”
The eyes of the three military service chiefs met and they each slowly nodded in agreement.
“Then,” Marcus said, pulling three envelopes from his pocket, “here are the coordinates in Asia, Europe, and South America. The sooner the planes depart the better.”
General Gordon took the envelope marked, “Europe” and passed the other envelopes around. In an instant, the three men were reading their papers and organizing them according to their respective authorities.
General Gordon tapped the screen of the monitor directly in front of him. The spinning globe and Joint Chiefs of Staff symbol faded into an
Adding to its colorful history, cameras and audio equipment were installed in most of the rooms during the Cold War. This made the Berkshire House a preferred location for entertaining certain Eastern European foreign dignitaries. And now, it would house the incoming Temporal.
“Yes, Lieutenant Harrison has been of considerable help already,” Marcus said while sitting in the chair at the head of the table.
General Gordon spoke as he let his heavy frame fall into the chair to the right of Marcus. “Admiral Hartling, Vice Admiral Cunnings, and I will be managing the operation from here. We have dozens of planes ready for immediate takeoff across the globe. There are but a few locations in the world that we cannot reach within the hour.”
The two other men at the table sat down in front of their respective screens.
“Good,” said Marcus. He used his arms as a brace while leaning on the table to maintain eye level with the three seated men. “I am sure each of you understands the importance of keeping sensitive information secret. I cannot go into the nature of whom you will be transporting, but it is of absolute importance that they be picked up safely, quickly, and most importantly, quietly. I need to know that everyone here is with me before I give the first coordinate. Do you swear to obey my commands—within this mandate—and never tell a living soul of it?”
While General Gordon stared unblinkingly at Marcus, the other two men, who had not been as thoroughly briefed by the president, looked at each other wondering what the meeting was really about.
One of the men, Vice Admiral Cunnings, shook his head. “We are members of the president’s council, the Chief of Staff. And yet, we don’t know exactly who or what we are transporting. While I can accept taking orders without complete information from the president, I find it odd that—and I mean no disrespect—I should take orders with incomplete knowledge from civilians—especially civilians of other countries.”
“Completely understandable,” said Marcus, “but I’m afraid you will have to leave.”
Both the admiral and the vice admiral were on their feet. “This is most irregular,” said Admiral Hartling with his fists firmly planted on his hips and his chest thrust out.
Marcus held up his hand and waited for the two to settle down. “It is most unusual, and admiral, under any other situation, I would be in total agreement with you. All I will say is this. The Manhattan Project was conducted within extraordinary secrecy and yet spies infiltrated the program. The potential devastation from a failure to maintain a tight blanket of secrecy today could result in many times the explosive power of an atomic bomb. While I cannot know the end result of failure, many worldwide deaths and much sorrow will at the very least occur. Do you, gentlemen, all swear to obey my voice—within the stated mandate from the president—and maintain absolute secrecy?”
The eyes of the three military service chiefs met and they each slowly nodded in agreement.
“Then,” Marcus said, pulling three envelopes from his pocket, “here are the coordinates in Asia, Europe, and South America. The sooner the planes depart the better.”
General Gordon took the envelope marked, “Europe” and passed the other envelopes around. In an instant, the three men were reading their papers and organizing them according to their respective authorities.
General Gordon tapped the screen of the monitor directly in front of him. The spinning globe and Joint Chiefs of Staff symbol faded into an
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