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3
    Washington, D.C.
     
    Adm. Corbett McClain stared across the Resolute desk with tired eyes. The president had called him in earlier that morning while the admiral was still brewing his coffee.
    "Less than twenty hours ago, a terrorist group known as the Black Ring broke into a research facility in Lucerne, Switzerland, and abducted a scientist by the name of Franziska Ott. She's local to the city of Lucerne. According to that report," he pointed at the paper in the president's hands, "she was working on a high-security project that deals with quantum gravity and magnetism."
    His sagging eyes, set amid age lines, a high wrinkled forehead, and a broad jaw, told the tale of a man who'd been around the block a few times. The various medals on his uniform gave many of the details to that story. While he didn't know much about the science featured in the report he'd given the commander in chief, he knew enough to realize when something was grave.
    President John Dawkins scanned the sheet of paper in his hand. His light-brown hair had streaks of gray in it. The skin on his face had grown looser over the years, but he still had the rugged good looks that endeared him to so many people. It was nearing the end of his first term, though few people believed he would lose a bid for a second. The other party was scrambling to find a sacrificial lamb to throw out into the ring, but it seemed no one was willing to be humiliated by what was sure to be a landslide election. There were, of course, nominations of candidates, but they would see less than forty percent of the votes.
    He'd helped bring about a peace between the legislative and executive branches of the United States government, and together they had accomplished more than he'd anticipated. His casual yet stern, no BS way of leading was something others couldn't deny.
    For the most part, Dawkins preferred not to get involved with military matters. Men like the admiral were the ones with more experience in those sorts of things. He scrutinized each member of the Joint Chiefs, as well as the rest of his advisers, with a heavy magnifying glass. Having trustworthy people around was one of the things Dawkins valued most.
    Admiral McClain had brought in a report that was troubling. A physicist had gone missing in Switzerland. Initially, that might not have been something the United States should have been concerned about. However, the scientist's projects were believed to be high security. Either that meant she was working on something that could be weaponized by enemies, or it represented a significant danger to America or its allies.
    The president finished reading the report and laid it on the desk. "You're certain about this?"
    "Yes, Mr. President. Our scientists believe that she could have been very close to a breakthrough in that field, as crazy as that may sound." The admiral answered with no emotion, only looking to relay the facts as he saw them.
    Dawkins leaned back in his chair. "It's like something out of a science fiction movie, if that information is correct."
    "I'm aware of that, sir. But we don't want to mess with these terrorists. The Black Ring is known for upping the ante when it comes to brutality. I fear for what they've already done to Dr. Ott, much less what they will do."
    The Black Ring was a European-based terrorist cell. They were hard to track and even more difficult to study because they didn't act like other terrorist groups. While most Islamic militants used various forms of aggression to further their religious war, the Black Ring performed acts for a variety of reasons, some of which were curiously capitalist, despite their clearly communicated disdain for Western economic philosophy.
    "What would a bunch of terrorists want with technology like that?" the president asked, staring through the admiral's calculating eyes.
    "We're not completely sure. If what that report says is true, some of the theories include cloaking of entire