Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Born in Davenport, Iowa, L.W. Berrie was educated in California. Graduated from California State University of Los Angeles with a B.S. in Mathematics and Science, he worked 23 years in the aerospace industry. He went back to school in the Legal Assistance Program at the University of California at Irvine (UCI) and graduated with a perfect 4.0 grade point average. He took additional writing courses at UCI to improve his skill as a writer. The UCI library system and the Special Forces at Fort Bragg, N.C. provided the research materials to write the story.

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STRIKE AT THE HEART

AuthorHouse

Chapter One

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...