BRAINRUSH 02 - The Enemy of My Enemy Read Online Free PDF

chuckle from one of the civilians seated at a high-tech computer console beside the two men. The colonel threw the man a shriveling glare.
    The offending young scientist snapped his attention back to his console. There were a dozen such stations in the cavernous space, six in each of two semicircular rows. They surrounded a ten-foot-wide, bell-jar-shaped steel enclosure that had been lowered from ceiling cables and electronically locked to thick fittings embedded in the concrete floor. The shroud encased the object of the research.
    An intricate array of remote-controlled sensors and equipment within the housing allowed the scientists to study the object with what they hoped was a reduced risk of exposure. Blast-hardened windows embedded within the enclosure permitted direct viewing. An electronic polarizing shield sandwiched within the glass rendered it opaque for the moment. When necessary, the security “jar” could be raised by a select few authorized personnel using the proper authentication code. Without the code, the enclosure was impregnable.
    “Sorry, Colonel,” Doc said. “Just joshing you. Sort of a welcome to the family, that’s all.”
    The colonel mumbled something under his breath. He turned on his heel and made for the exit.
    Men and women looked up from their stations as the lieutenant colonel departed. With a gleam in his eye, Doc pointed the stem of his pipe at the man’s back, holding his other palm up in a mock attempt at hiding the gesture. To his audience of scientists and technicians, he silently mouthed, “Uncle Fester.” There was a chorus of muffled laughter, as everyone present acknowledged Brown’s uncanny resemblance to the character from The Addams Family .
    Doc felt a tinge of guilt about ribbing his new head of security, but it wasn’t ill-intended. After years of experience, he’d learned not to take the military hard cases too seriously. Sure, they’d been trained to maintain their crusty exterior in the face of underlings and the enemy, but Doc believed that subjecting a group of research scientists to such an attitude was unproductive. It stifled the creative process. As far as he was concerned, his military counterparts needed to either lighten up or leave the room.
    With a satisfied smile, he slid his favorite meerschaum pipe—with a hand-carved face of the wizard Gandalf the Great —into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. Although Doc was never without it, no one had ever seen him smoke it.
    Dr. Albert Finnegan had earned his PhD in astrophysics at Princeton by the unprecedented age of twenty-one. He’d risen quickly through the ranks of scientists in the nation’s space program. Though his quirky manner had kept him out of a leadership role in the many renowned projects he’d participated in, those in the know credited his genius for the success of nearly every significant space exploration and discovery project funded by the US government in the past three decades.
    Throughout his career, in the face of considerable criticism, Doc steadfastly maintained his position that life existed on other planets. After the recent incident in Afghanistan, his longtime friend Alexander Jackson, who happened to be President of the United States, had reluctantly agreed with him. Quirks or not, Jackson had asked Doc to take charge of what was known as the Obsidian Project.
    Doc had jumped on the opportunity. He told his family he’d be “gone quite a while.” He knew he’d be working on nothing less than the most important discovery in the planet’s history.

 
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
     
    Hermosa Beach, California
     
    S am’s Cyber Bar and Restaurant in Hermosa Beach had been Jake’s favorite hangout ever since it opened. The eclectic gathering hole was known for its wide selection of beers on tap, good food, and touch screens at each table. The high-speed terminals allowed patrons to interact in real time with sports websites during games, ping other tables for a chat