STRIKE AT THE HEART Colonel John Harris, U.S. Army Special Forces, goes back in time to retrieve his lost men. But something is blocking their way from leaving. Some blame the ghost of Harris's adversary, Mhalglami, and some blame the land gone wild. Harris is afraid that this time they may bring back more than they bargained for. Usa, both Teri and Masai, longs for a world where her mixed heritage does not matter. Although promised to N'Grundbligimi since childhood, their marriage is opposed by powerful forces from both within and outside the tribe. She wants to pursue her dreams. But will she fi nd such a place?

STRIKE AT THE HEART

The Rescue MissionBy L. W. Berrie

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 L. W. Berrie
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-8179-6

Chapter One

12 January 2022

Kenya

Colonel John Harris drove his humvee up the road, the engine laboring under the altitude and the steep climb. His body felt like the engine sounded: every fiber wracked by tension. Images of his three previous attempts to rescue his blood brother, Captain Jerome Roundtree, flashed through his mind. There was so much that could go wrong!

Once, the dimensional shift had missed Earth completely. That time, he found himself waiting for hours, only to learn that the time gate had opened and closed in a remote, inaccessible corner of the globe. And the last time, he reached Kenya in 3992 BC, only to discover that the Global Positioning Satellite and personnel locator functions, upon which his rescue attempt depended, had failed; indeed, the satellite itself had tumbled out of orbit. He had counted himself just plain lucky to return empty-handed to his own time.

Parking the humvee just below the crest, Harris grabbed the microphone and keyed it. "Five, six here. Over."

The static quieted, and a pleasant female voice said, "There is a one-minute delay in response time. Please allow one minute for your party to respond."

Major General Art Murphy strode up to lean in the open window. In the darkness, his white teeth shone from a brown face. "The new satellites calculate the total time delay between your calling signal and Roundtree's signal." He said, pointing to the top display in the black box jury-rigged to the humvee's dashboard. "See, one minute. You have to allow that before calling again."

"Yes, sir," said Harris. Then he sat back and relaxed his large frame, although he found it hard to fit his six-foot eleven-inch frame in the seat.

The radio squawked, "Six, five here. Head due north from the hill. The Teri village is about midway between there and Mount Kenya. In the village, go directly to Colonel Walsh's tent next to the hospital tent. You'll have no problem finding it. Someone at the hospital will brief you on our situation. I must leave the village now, so no time to explain. I'll leave my personnel locator device on. Don't allow anyone except Peck or his son to accompany you. Especially avoid Usa. Several believe she's the killer. Did you get a package from my uncle? Over."

"Roger. I have it with me," replied Harris, Patting a leather pouch on the seat beside him.

"The time shift appears about daybreak. I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Roger. See you in a couple of days. Out."

Harris keyed the mike again. "Five, this is six. Where will I find you?"

The female voice replied, "Your party has terminated his service at this time."

At least we know the new satellites work," said Murphy. "Too bad the previous missions were failures. The air force blamed everything on poor station keeping. That's why the GEOPOS and personnel locator functions were inaccurate. Each of the new satellites cost twice as much as the old ones combined, but the star maps that Akintunde printed helped NASA and the air force compute better star positions. These new satellites should not spin out of control as the old ones did. The president and the joint chiefs have decided that time dimensional travel is in the national interest because it opens a path to discovering cures to other major diseases. By the way, there were beeps between transmissions indicating there are messages stored in the computer. If you dial '7737' you'll retrieve those messages."

Harris did as instructed and the female voice came on, "There is one new message. Press 1 to play; press 2 to save; press 3 to-" Harris pressed 1.

"You have a message from ID 3456. Message received on June 25th at 9:45 P.M."

"John, this is Thomas Sackerstrom. All our children have been murdered. Butchered. Some are saying my daughter, Usa, did it. She is innocent." There was a noise in the background. Harris strained to hear what it was. "So it is you. Why did you let others think Usa did it?" There were sounds of a scuffle. Then a male screamed and groaned and all was silent.

The female voice came on, "End of message. Press 1 to play; press 2 to save; press 3 to delete."

Harris looked at Murphy, "How do you record that message?"

"Take a CD and put it in the bottom slot. Press 'Record' then replay the message. Sounds like you are walking into a can of worms."

Harris did as instructed. He removed the CD from the bottom slot and put it back in its holder. "The air force does not give me a whole lot of confidence. I was plain lucky to get back from those previous missions. I thought the air force or NASA could calculate star positions as they existed in the past?"

"But this is not the past, John. It's another time dimension. See, all the science boys agree that, if you were in the past, then how could you die before you were born? Yet people died there and their existence was not affected. By the way, what is in that pouch on the seat?"

"Roundtree's last message was marked 'Personnel and Confidential.' He requested that the contents not be divulged to anyone. I honor my men's requests, sir." Harris resented that Murphy did not always respect what he himself believed was an inviolable right. And Murphy's resentment had also grown since Harris had declined to persuade Nomi to simply give away her blood, with its unique and invaluable antibodies. Harris had found a patent attorney for her; and in the years since she had arrived in Harris's dimension, his wife had grown immensely wealthy.

Murphy scanned the inside of the humvee, "Where is Nomi? I thought she was going with you."

"She's decided to stay in Nairobi. She explained her reasons for staying in this time dimension, and I support her decision."

"But why? What's her reason?" Murphy's neck muscles were taut.

"It's a private matter between me and my wife, sir."

"Not when her presence has a direct bearing on the outcome of the mission! As a Teri tribal princess, she lends you clout with the Teri; and that may be vital to your success in bringing those men back. Your own mission report described how useful she was on the first mission." The tension in Murphy's voice reflected his growing internal tension. Harris thought that he was ready to explode.

"On the contrary," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm, "because of complications among the Teri royal family, her very presence could trigger a civil war."

Murphy's head jerked backwards as though something or someone had hit him, "Huh? Come again? How could she do that?"

"Nomi's father is DEAD. The new Teri king is her half-brother. If she shows up, the new king, or his advisors, might be inclined to view it as an attempt to claim the throne. It could lead to violence. I might be forced to kill the king or other Teri people to protect her. And that would adversely affect my mission."

Murphy's face softened, "I see." He scanned the list of equipment, "I see you have the new liquid armor combat fatigues. They're incredibly expensive. How did you get purchase approval? I don't recall signing off on anything like that."

Harris felt his neck muscles tense, and his nostrils flare from his recently acquired aquiline nose—thanks to a parachuting mishap. "Your directive specified that teams were to submit their needs list for a mission six months if operational funds were required for development or purchase of equipment and two months if NO funding was required. I submitted the lists to your office back in November. When Colonel Bremmer remarked about the cost, I informed him that Nomi was paying for everything—it would not cost the Army a dime. He signed off on everything on my list. If you didn't get copies of those equipment lists, I respectfully suggest that you ask Colonel Bremmer."

"I will check with him." said Murphy, still seething. "I see that these new fatigues are equipped with scan cameras with map projection, thermal sensors and heat control, digital camouflage and liquid armor in the sleeves and pants. And the boots also have liquid armor. I advise you not to go swimming in these. You'll sink like a rock."

Harris winked, "If we sink to the bottom of the Nile, then we'll run like hell for shore."

Murphy laughed. Harris always deflected his anger with humor. But it was more for his own sake, Harris did not want to go on a mission angry. His men and their families were dying and he knew that he would need a clear head.

"All your vehicles are armored too? Why do you need so much armor for an era before explosives?" asked Murphy.

"Nomi had a premonition. She says that we will need everything. The Egyptian-style boats were built specially for this mission so that we won't have to get new ones when we enter Egypt. In fact, we may not even have to stop at Elephantine. We can keep right on going."

Murphy signed the bottom of the list, "I'll approve everything. But keep me informed on all equipment that you're taking, no matter who's paying for it."

"With all due respect, sir, I went through proper channels. If there's a glitch, please take it up with your staff. But we're about to shove off. Why this review now?"

"I need to evaluate the impact of your presence on the past. As your commanding general, I'm responsible for your welfare and for supporting the success of your mission. So I wonder, for example, why you selected the XM-109 sniper rifle for yourself and Armalite's AR-10 for your men. As you know, the Army is now replacing the M-16 and M-4 with the Barrett M468."

"I want one .50 caliber long range rifle with deadly fire power to stop anyone or anything. I needed the BAR on the first mission to stop a raging bull elephant in its tracks and save Nomi. The Barrett M469 comes in retrofit model only. They need to be fitted into the stock of an existing M-16 or M-4. My men discarded their M-4s when they ran out of ammo. The Armalite AR-10s fire .308-caliber short magnums. Better to bring down an animal or a man. Hunters use it."

Murphy shook his head and handed a file to Harris, "Momagattu Akintunde. Benedict Akintunde's nephew. He'll be your Kenyan liaison."

A slim, muscular black man of average height opened the humvee door and climbed inside. "I'm Momagattu Akintunde. I believe you knew my uncle Benedict."

"Delighted. Forgive me, but time is short; and right now, we need a GEOPOS position check to verify our position on both sides of the gate."

As Akintunde busied himself with the GEOPOS, he broke out a candy bar and began to eat.

"Are you ready for the time gate?" asked Murphy

"Not really. No one is ready for something like that. It is an indescribable experience. If it was not for the messages from Roundtree, I don't think I could do it again."

"You have additional medical supplies for Dr. Walsh—including several cases of scotch; food; Bedouin tents and clothing; make-up kit; bolts of cloth; C4; a laptop computer; high-powered radio with directional antenna; and a generator. You have everything but the kitchen sink."

"Why not the kitchen sink?"

"No room." Murphy extended a brown hand. "Good luck. I will check into the misunderstanding."

Harris shook Murphy's hand, "By the way, how large is the time shift zone this time?"

"No one knows for sure. I'm pulling everyone back two miles. We do not want to go with you—especially if people are being killed."

Murphy returned Harris's salute then got into his humvee and sped away.

Harris turned to Akintunde, "Do you have those coordinates? The time gate will be here any minute."

The young Kenyan said, "I have 37 degrees 21 minutes 10 seconds east, 1 degree 57 minutes 2 seconds south. Can you tell me what my uncle was like? I never knew him. He died before I was born."

"We'll talk later. It is too late now, but you really should not eat anything so soon before the time shift. Brace yourself. It is approaching from the east."

"What is it like?"

Harris said, "Imagine the largest, biggest roller-coaster in the world. Then, multiple that by ten. You're still not close to what it's like."

A faint glow appeared on the horizon, widening and spreading across the land until the sun appeared, first as a sliver, then larger with every passing moment. Harris returned the mike to its clamp and gripped the steering wheel, as he called into his lip mike, "Everyone—brace yourselves."

It was suddenly warm in the humvee, so Harris rolled his window down. He glanced up as a huge black finger raced down from the sky and enveloped the four vehicles. "HOLD ON," he yelled.

The words were torn from his mouth as the black funnel engulfed the humvees in a maelstrom of swirling blackness. Harris gripped the door handle as well as the steering wheel as the humvee shot forward to slam him deep into his seat. The roar grew deafening; soon Harris could not hear his own thoughts. He was gripped by the sensation of speed, pushed further back into his seat. His cheeks flattened. His facial flesh oozed toward his ears. He felt like an astronaut blasting off; but, when he looked down at his hands, they were invisible in the blackness.

The feeling of acceleration gave way to a floating sensation. Still surrounded by a sea of Stygian darkness, his mind wandered to trying to picture a reunion with his blood-brother.

Since returning from the other dimension, Harris had put his former fiancee, Morning Star, behind him. He had made a new life with Nomi but wondered now if Roundtree still had hard feelings about Harris and Morning Star. The blood brothers had never had time to talk about Morning Star or the "Dear John" letter she had left him when she walked out. But Harris could never forget his last glimpse of Roundtree, a look of pain and hurt on his face as Egyptian soldiers surrounded Roundtree; and Harris had made a desperate dash for the riverside quay on his boat. Was Roundtree angry for not attempting to rescue him? For choosing a different route over Roundtree's protest?

After what felt like eons, the blackness dissolved into a deep indigo. Forward motion was arrested so fast that Harris was slammed against his seat belt, bruising his chest and almost suffocating him. The deep indigo lightened to an azure, then vanished. Harris shut his eyes against the brilliant African sun and donned sunglasses. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the hill was still in front of him. Everything appeared the same—the hill, the tall grass of the veldt, the copses of trees.

He sat back and looked around. Their humvees and trucks were the only traces of man. The rest was nature.

Shaking his head to dispel the dizziness, Harris caught a glimpse of Akintunde barfing out his window. Harris pulled a pink bottle of Pepto-Bismol from a leg pocket and handed it to Akintunde. "That is why I skipped dinner and breakfast. And welcome, Momagattu, to the year 3,980 B.C. When your stomach settles down, run another GEOPOS position check. Before we head out, we must be certain that our geographical position is the same—and if our new satellite checks out. There will be times when you may wish that you had stayed home."

Chapter Two

Harris stood, stretching his muscles. One inch under seven feet tall, 245 pound frame was cramped from sitting in the humvee for most of the night. The sun's warmth felt good on his aching muscles.

"Colonel Harris, there is a Dr. Walsh on the radio for you," Said Akintunde.

Harris slid back into the driver's seat, "Call me 'John' We do not use rank nor do we salute when we are in the field."

"As you wish, John."

Harris picked the mike up, "John here. Over."

Walsh's voice was almost ecstatic, "I heard you were coming back. But I didn't believe it until now. There's a group of people here waiting to see you."

"Actually, I returned several times but never could locate any of you, guys. The old satellite threw me off with false readings. I barely made it back home. Over."

"We've moved around too. First, we headed south—away from the lava flows. We ran into hostile tribes, some downright murderous. We had a bloody time of it. A few years ago, Mutwa, the shaman, talked the young king into moving the tribe back towards Mount Kenya. He said that 'Bull Warrior' was coming and would meet us there. We are now due north of the hill. Come to the southwest corner of the village. You'll see the hospital tent. Can't miss it—it's the largest tent and there are trailers attached. My tent is next on the right. We'll brief you on the situation when you get here."

"Can you give me your coordinates?"

"We haven't had a workable GPS in a long time. We're just south of a lake that was created when the ground split open. We get our water from the creek comes out of it."

"Be there as soon as we can—if the creek don't rise and the cows come home. Out." "Ready, Momagattu?"

Akintunde gave a thumbs up, "The Pepto did the trick. I am good to go."

"Okay." Harris cranked his engine then stuck an arm out the window and gave the up-and-down signal. All the engines coughed to life. Harris pointed forward then drove around the hill, the others trailing at fifty-meter intervals. He turned east to line up on the hill then swung north toward Mount Kenya.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from STRIKE AT THE HEARTby L. W. Berrie Copyright © 2012 by L. W. Berrie. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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