Books

Incident at Tybee Island

an excerpt...

Michael Correa's Office, Washington, D.C.
Wednesday, September 4, 2002

     Michael Correa's secure phone rang.
     "Still taking your daily run with Dan?" asked the familiar voice of Brigadier General Joshua Collins.
     "Yes, sir."
    "Good. Then meet me at Lincoln Memorial at 13:00 hours."
    "I'll be there."
     A clandestine meeting? Michael thought as he replaced the receiver. Now what's so important?

The Lincoln Memorial, Washington, D.C.

     At precisely 13:00 hours, Collins, the Director of Special Operations Group, or SOG, was already waiting by the steps to the memorial, trying unsuccessfully to keep cool. Wearing sunglasses, and a baseball cap to cover his thinning hair, Michael guessed correctly that his former commanding officer and mentor was as uncomfortable in his civilian clothes as he looked. "We've got a potential situation," Collins said without preamble. "But then I expect you realized that."
     "Yes, sir."
     Collins nodded at Dan Whitney. "This is need to know, Dan. You'll be briefed later." He faced Michael. "Let's walk. I'm beginning to think the eggheads are right about this global warming."
     Following at a discreet distance, Dan Whitney stayed out of earshot, but the two men were never out of his sight. To the casual observer, they could have been a father and son, except that Collins was three inches shorter than Michael, and his loose fitting shirt made him look even stockier.
     "What do you know about Tybee Island?" Collins asked.
     "It's east of Savannah, Georgia, sir."
     "Precisely." Collins went on to explain the events of February 5th, 1958. "The Air Force immediately went looking," he continued, "but they never did find the jettisoned bomb. The search was finally called off, and the incident basically forgotten. Until last year. Apparently, a property developer wanted to build upscale homes on Tybee, and the thought that an unexploded nuclear device could be a stone's throw from his investment, didn't sit too well. He musta pulled someone's strings, as the Air Force recently completed a second search. With all our technology, it was considered an easy mission. Wrong. The divers came up empty, because someone had beaten them to it. And recently, according to the report. We need to find who got to it first. No need to tell you Michael that this is top priority. If word leaks out, we could have a whole scale panic on our hands."
     "How dangerous is this bomb?"
     "It isn't, without the device to arm it. Which is why the original search and recovery was abandoned. But with the collapse of the old Soviet Union, they became a veritable Kmart for anyone with money. Submarines, tanks, missiles, nuclear triggers; you name it. Scary thought, eh?"
     "Very," Michael replied. "Where do I start?"
     "By the time you get back to your office, a file will have been delivered. All the information we've got is there. In light of 9/11, we could be looking at another very explosive situation. Literally."
     Michael shuddered, and not from a sudden breeze. "Report directly to you?"
     They'd reached the Roosevelt Memorial, and Collins stopped, lowering his voice. "Not any more. You're in charge. The president's fully aware of what's going on. He asked that you personally handle it. But keep me briefed. And anything you need, ask."
     "Is my father in the loop?"
     "Not yet. Although I foresee a time when the CIA will be involved. For the time being, this comes solely under a SOG mandate." Collins began to leave, then stopped. "Find it Michael, before some lunatic spawns Armageddon."

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