Quantum, The chemistry of love and the fusion of the atom spark a global race for the future of power. Bella Arensico, a brilliant quantum physicist in love with Payman Mehri, the charming heir to a world-renowned banking dynasty, But the future of energy—and the fate of nations—shifts dramatically when Jack Douglas, makes a startling breakthrough.
days left
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Quantum early reader feedback:
“Wild!!! It really has a Da Vinci Code flow.” – Beta reader
“Dude — you know so much about EVERYTHING! - Beta Reader
"It reads like a Dan Brown — from Rolex trivia to esoteric travel bits. Wow - you packed in soooooo much!” – Beta reader
Bella Arensico, a brilliant quantum physicist who grew up along the sacred Camino de Santiago, has risen to global prominence through her groundbreaking work at Oxford University. Passionately in love with Payman Mehri, the charming heir to a world-renowned banking dynasty, Bella’s life seems to strike a perfect balance between love and ambition. Their journey takes them from the shores of serene seas to the heights of the Alps and the cutting-edge laboratories of CERN, where science and passion intertwine.
But the future of energy—and the fate of nations—shifts dramatically when Dr. Jack Douglas, a driven researcher at the University of Arizona, makes a startling breakthrough. His creation, Zeliconite, promises to unlock a new era of clean, limitless energy through quantum fusion. It’s a discovery so powerful that governments, corporations, and clandestine agents will stop at nothing to control it.
As global superpowers and shadowy organizations collide, Bella and Jack are thrust into a high-stakes game of intrigue, strategy, and survival. From the deserts of Arizona to Europe’s ancient cities, the pursuit of knowledge becomes a race against time, with alliances tested and loyalties questioned. Amid the chaos, the chemistry of love and the power of science propel the story toward a breathtaking climax.
Mark Ziska, the visionary author behind Quantum, draws on a distinguished career in the U.S. defense industry and a lifetime of expertise in defense technology and law enforcement consulting. His deep understanding of quantum mechanics and relativity, refined during his studies at Oxford University, provides the scientific foundation for this gripping tale.
Coupled with his extensive world travels, Ziska crafts a story that seamlessly blends cutting-edge science, international intrigue, and the complexities of human connection. In Quantum, he masterfully intertwines the chemistry of love with the fusion of the atom, igniting a global race for the future of energy and power.
This compelling narrative showcases Ziska’s ability to bring his real-world experiences and knowledge to life, creating a thrilling exploration of science, strategy, and the human spirit.
A new social media blitz campaign will launch concurrently with the book’s debut on Publishizer.com, leveraging a strong and growing online presence across multiple platforms. This campaign is designed to reach targeted audiences interested in science, technology, and international intrigue while building momentum for Quantum.
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Book club and scientific thriller readers.
Mark Ziska brings a wealth of experience in leadership, strategy, and advanced defense systems to his writing, blending technical expertise with a deep understanding of global dynamics. A lifelong learner, Mark pursued studies in quantum physics at Oxford University’s Continuing Education program, further fueling his passion for scientific discovery and exploration. An avid traveler, Mark has journeyed extensively across the globe, drawing inspiration from diverse cultures and landscapes. His transformative experience hiking the Camino de Santiago—a pilgrimage renowned for its spiritual depth—served as the spark for his debut novel, Quantum. Through Quantum, Mark weaves together his fascination with science, his strategic insight, and his love of storytelling, creating a thrilling narrative that explores the boundaries of human ambition, discovery, and the interconnectedness of our world.
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Chapter 5 - Oxford University
Bodleian Library, Physics Club University of Oxford, Oxford England 18:00 04 August
Oxford University is considered the epicenter of education in the English-speaking world, or so those at Oxford would have us believe. It is true that the 39 colleges that make up Oxford University have had a significant impact on the world. Many scholars reference the beginning of teaching in Oxford dating back to the establishment of the first Abbey. Formal documented teaching at Oxford can be established as 1096. This making it the oldest English speaking university in the world. It’s then the second oldest university only behind University of Bologna in Italy.
In the 13th century, the first University Chancellor was appointed, and the first college, University College, known simply as “Univ” was founded. This detail, however, is disputed by Balliol and Merton Colleges, as all three were indeed founded in the 13th Century.
The colleges resemble what we often picture in our mind’s eye as antiquarian residence halls and meeting chambers, where images of students in long robes aligned at long tables are imaged. The hierarchy of the college, the Dons and Deans, are positioned at a head table on a raised dais. Students seated in rows at the long tables that ran perpendicular to the head table so all could see the power at the dais.
The gothic buildings of housing, education, literature, research, administration, and worship appear as they have for almost a millennium. The famous Bridge of Sighs, a copy of the famous Rialto Bridge in Venice, spans a cobbled street connecting two university buildings. Gargoyles smile down upon the students as they meander through the lush, verdant English midlands and the Cotswold.
This was the world that Bella entered on Week 0 (the week before the term begins), referred to as Freshers’ Week when new incoming students descend on the hallowed halls of the University of Oxford. Freshers’ Week consisted filled with tours, orientations, and registration, culminating in the annual Freshers’ Fair, where incoming students had an opportunity to find out which of the over 400 clubs and organizations would best suit their interests outside of their academic studies: sports, politics, literature, social, quidditch, and even, much to Bella’s excitement, a physics club.
The Oxford Physics Club was meeting in a conference room of the Bodleian Library, the principal although not oldest of Oxford’s many libraries. After signing up for the club, on her way crossing Oxford for the first meeting, Bella found herself crossing the quadrangle leading to the entrance of the library. It was a rare, beautiful autumn day, sunny and temperate, conducive for her to wear her favorite, red Aran cable knit jumper (a sweater that gets its name from the Aran Islands), skinny blue jeans, along with a pair of matching red Repetto low-heeled ballet flats. Normally an outfit that is classic and proper, but on Bella, it was like seeing a runway model crossing the quad. The eyes of both the men and women Oxonians tracker her as she progressed.
She entered the library and took in its intoxicating atmosphere, one that sunk heavily into her with vorfreude of the learning she was about to throw herself into. The gentleman who held the door for her carried a stiff, uncomfortable posture, she noticed. She asked him for further directions, to which he stuttered a pointed a finger in the right direction.
“Thanks!” she said before hopping away. Perhaps her energy had been a bit much for her.
She climbed the stairs and heard the noises from within the meeting room before she found it. The young would-be scientists were engaged in a constant batter of unintelligible sounds. As Bella entered, she drew in the room’s décor: polished wood, a large central table, and the surrounding leather chairs that were both welcoming and intimidating for a Fresher. To her, it was like a place for Shakespeare and his author friends to gather in.
The door squeaked as it closed. A number of heads turned in her direction. While a few others continued their conversation, most of the noise had stopped. With fewer voices, the echoes seemed sharper. Bella calmly approached the group.
“Please,” she said to them, her arms raised politely. “Don’t let me interrupt, I’m only here for the audition.”
The young men who had previously been talkative stopped, and now the collective faces were intimidating, even for a woman with Bella’s confidence.
Then an upperclassman piped up. “Well, although this is an exclusive club, you’ve passed the audition!” He smiled. “I’m Payman. Third-year. Specializing in nuclear physics. Don’t be put off. Join us. We’re a friendly bunch.”
“Not the geeks as is so often generalized?” Bella asked.
Payman confidently chuckled. The other men then stepped up to introduce themselves, but Bella turned to the two women in the room and introduced herself to them first.
“I always appreciate women in science,” she told them. “What are your names?”
Jenni, a petite blonde with large glasses, was the most comfortable to respond. “Fourth year,” she said. “But with my interests, I’ll be here for a lifetime. Quantum physics and Astrophysics, looking into new interstellar propulsion possibilities. Don’t mind the guys either. They are our mates and they are not dangerous. Women are just not their forte.”
Sarah then said, “We women stand together, but really you were right the first time. We’re all a bunch of geeks; the guys just think that only men can be intellectually gifted and able to apply knowledge. But obviously, they are playing above their league with us!”
“Mean,” Payman said casually. Bella smiled as Sarah pinched her tongue between her teeth.
“Really, we are all equals in this club. Sometimes women just have to take charge, and it’s easy with these guys!”
“Okay,” Jenni said, clearly holding back some amount of laughter. “Let’s be nice and welcome our prospective members, even those who have ‘already passed the audition’. If you’re interested in Physics, then you’re in.”
The ice was broken, and the budding physicists all made brief introductions. The objectives of the club were discussed by Jenni, whom Bella guessed was something of their leader.
It was clear to Bella that this club was more an intellectual think tank than a pseudo-social club. The talk was well beyond the standard dialog of physics of energy, force, and power. It was as varied as discussions of the expanding universe, the bending of the space-time continuum, antimatter, baryons, charmed quarks, and quantum indeterminacy. Bella was feeling quite at home and was welcomed in this rarified intellectual company.
She smiled as she turned to Jenni, “All kidding aside, my reference to John Lennon’s quote about the audition was more out of nervousness than anything. I was a little worried if I’d fit in, but you are so welcoming, the ideas challenging, and if you’ll have me, I’d like to be a member. I’ve found someplace where I think I belong.”
“Of course you passed the audition. I look forward to getting to know you more, our ideas, and challenging time and space. I think you’re way beyond so many of the guys who think they know it all. We girls need people like you; we stick together.”
Jenni looked around; everyone was excited and engaged. There were even a few laughs. Then she suggested that they retreat to The Turf, one of the oldest pubs in Oxford, to continue the conversations.
Chapter 10 - The Victory
Yacht Club Costa Smeralda’s (YCCS) Porto Cervo, Sardinia, Italy
09 September
15:30 Local Time
The ‘Falkin and its crew were celebrating their victory in their Maxi class of the Rolex Cup, the pinnacle of yacht racing and the desire of every competitive sailor who yearned to reach the top of the sport. On the water, the level of competition is of the highest order. The race courses were some of the most challenging and spectacular in sailing, offering an unrivaled combination of competition, conditions, and scenery. It is held at Yacht Club Costa Smeralda’s off the coast of Porto Cervo, Sardinia, one of the most stunning and diverse places in Italy. Nestled in the Mediterranean to the west of the Italian mainland, five days of competition are scheduled, offering a program of primarily coastal races that allow the fleet to take on some of the world’s most impressive, natural race courses. The action unfolds in alluring waters and is set against the wild, rocky islands and islets of the Maddalena archipelago.
The Maxi Yacht Rolex Cup is the very essence of superlative yacht racing. The environment, the organization, the yachts, and the participants are all exceptional. The crews comprise the world’s foremost sailors, a veritable who’s who of the yachting world. Even for those accustomed to success, victory at the Maxi Yacht Rolex Cup remains a significant achievement.
On the ‘Falkin the crew is a mix of the owner's friends and racing professionals led by British and French sailors experienced in the America's Cup and around the world races. In the true Corinthian spirit, the team celebrated the victory with a wide variety of spirits. When in Italy, Asti Spumante is the victory celebratory beverage and the crew partook. Not only are spirits a celebratory favorite but it was hard for those in attendance not to appreciate the natural beauty of the local women, many of whom are world-class sailors on their own and at the club for the post-race excitement.
Lewis was Payman’s best mate on land and first mate on the ‘Falkin. The two had known each other since Oundle School, a primary school in the quaint English historical town of Oundle. The two were opposites in everything about them, and when this was pointed out to them, one, if not both of them, would simply respond, “Opposites attract.”
Lewis was tall, lanky, red-headed with emerald green eyes. An extravert who everyone loves and was automatically attracted to. The life of the party. He was not so equally blessed by his intellect. He attended Oundle because of his family’s influence as opposed to his academic abilities and was sometimes referred to as ‘frivolous’. Lewis had been by Payman’s side since they met. He so wanted to be a sailor that he asked his father, a wealthy import/exporter, if he would let him spend his summers learning to sail with Payman. Reluctantly, it was agreed that if Lewis could maintain a 5 rating in all his classes, he could sail, which apparently was all the incentive that Lewis needed. It was a challenge but he had his Payman for help. Payman regularly received 8 and 9 ratings, and sure enough, Lewis worked hard and achieved 5’s.
Back on land at YCCS’s stunning headquarters in Porto Cervo, Lewis greeted Payman with a bro-hug and a bottle of Spumante.
“Cheers mate, we did it! We did it! Oh my God, we did it!” Lewis beamed.
“We did it together,” Payman replied. “It’s really our celebration.”
Lewis turned to the gathering crew and proposed a traditional Saturday Royal Navy toast.
“To our wives and sweethearts!"
As the crew and those surrounding them raised their glasses, red solo cups and everything in between, they replied in unison, "May they never meet!"
Payman blushed as everyone laughed and cheered. He was true to Bella and as such the toast didn’t fit, but showing his appreciation to the crew was important, so he took the spotlight.
“As with any contest of speed,” he said to them. “Precision is of the essence in the regatta, and we raced with precision.” He pumped his free fist in the air. “With several Super Maxis withdrawing with technical gear failure, this was a war of attrition. A big hand to the crew and Chris our maintenance and operations director who to put plans, strategy and willpower together. Let’s be grateful that nothing broke.”
A good deal of laughter rang out through the crowd, and Payman raised his drink once more.
“To the best sailing team on any sea!”
Cheers erupted, and Payman continued full-throated.
“Coming to Sardinia, working together as one, we got around one of the most challenging courses any of us might face. Now let’s enjoy this Sardinian evening!"
“Here, Hear!” replied the masses. A hearty laugh and a cheer followed. Payman chuckled to himself as he watched Lewis, who had wandered off earlier, staying true to form. He approached with two of the loveliest of the local women. Lewis was what some crudely refer to as a ‘chick magnet’. He could walk into a natural disaster and walk out with the most attractive and engaging woman smiling from cheek to cheek at something Lewis said. Payman knew he would have to be gracious and engage the locals. They contributed, cheered on the racers, and put a lot of themselves into making the race a success.
“Payman, I’d like you to meet Francisca and Maria. Ladies, please meet my best mate and our skipper, Payman. Francisca and Maria have been here every day watching the competition. Apparently, they were our cheering section every day!”
The girls laughed politely.
“You both enjoy sailing then?” Payman asked.
“Hell yeah!” Maria said immediately, her hazel eyes widening with excitement. “We both sail on our own team. The races here were incredible.”
Payman realized he should’ve guessed. Both of them had slim builds with soft, muscular roundness around their shoulders and stomachs.
“And now we’re off to Francisca’s family restaurant for the best seafood made with local flavors and with love from her brothers the chefs!” Lewis said.
Payman was both overcome with the emotions of winning the cup and the shock and in awe at the beauty of the two women. How did Lewis continue to outdo himself time after time?
So, Payman turned on his charm. “Hello, Francisca and Maria. It’s my great pleasure to meet the two of you. I thought our ship was the most beautiful thing in the world, but you two have challenged my thinking.”
They laughed again. Lewis included. He flicked Payman an impressed look.
“Now, enough of my sincere comments. How about joining us on board with a fresh spumante and Lewis can give us a tour of our messy but victorious boat? Please excuse the mess as we did start celebrating after the finish and the crew is still at it, but by tomorrow we will be ship-shape and loaded with provisions from the locals.”
Payman knew Lewis would like more than anything to show off the boat. He beamed and said, “Can’t turn down an invitation from the captain, surely.”
As they boarded the ‘Falkin, the women showed their appreciation of what they saw as Lewis excitedly demonstrated its features. Then they moved on to the creature comforts. There were two identical berths in the bow, one each for the captain and the first mate. Lewis was quick to show Maria his bunk. To Payman’s surprise, it was perfectly made and put together; Lewis must’ve hired one of the deckhands to put both berths in order first before cleaning anything else. Now Payman knew why. He had his sights on moving his relationship forward faster than any racing yacht could move.
All around the deck, hands and crew members were cleaning and readying the boat for the journey home to Plymouth. As some deckhands readied the yacht for the sail home, several others shopped for the freshest vegetables and a healthy supply of Italian wines.
To allow the crew to get the boat ready, the four of them left the ‘Falkin for the evening on shore. They settled into a comfortable and somewhat cozy pair of young couples enjoying the Saturday evening in Porto Cervo. Maria was definitely into Lewis and Payman, always the introverted gentleman, was gracious and subdued.
Francesca led them to a restaurant where she was greeted by, Payman presumed, her parents, and even as visitors of the area, Payman could tell they were getting something of a VIP treatment. Payman’s seafood and vegetable risotto treated with an unusual red wine made him jokingly consider that his god may well actually be working as a chef in Porto Cervo. Francesca said their meals were on the house. Payman nonetheless left a handful of 100 Euro notes on the table for the servers and the kitchen staff.
Lewis was gregarious and boisterous, and Maria loved every word of it. As the evening continued, Lewis's ambition reached new heights when he spontaneously booked a hotel on the seaside strand with not a word of protest from Maria.
Payman’s reserve with Francesca, on other hand, made Francesca question his attention and attraction to her, but he was honest about how much he enjoyed Francesca’s interest, but that as captain he had to be the sober one. He had to make sure the ‘Falkin and crew were ready to set sail in the morning. Francesca asked him what would happen if the weather changed.
“A good captain knows how to adapt,” he said with a small flicker in the sides of his mouth. Francesca bit her lip but wished him well, and they parted with a friendly kiss as Payman headed to the ‘Falkin and Lewis headed to the room with a view.
Chapter 58 - The Cavalry
Camp David Presidential Retreat
Frederick County, Maryland
10 February
19:03 Local Time
On the ground in Arizona the firefight intensified, with each side exchanging volleys of gunfire. The fusillade of shots echoed off the walls of the narrow valley walls and chipped granite boulders where the last defenders had taken cover. The air was thick with smoke and the sharp scent of gunpowder. Overhead, a drone buzzed, its cameras feeding live footage back to a command center. It was through this surveillance that the confirmation came in: the attackers are indeed elite Iranian commandos, their faces recognized and matched within seconds through facial recognition software.
Gandhi now stood stands slightly apart from the others, his focus on the input coming through his headphones. Despite the chaos surrounding him, he maintained a settled posture. His eyes gave nothing away as they flickered from screen to screen. He focused on the screen displaying the drone footage and the Iranians. The information is critical, yet he absorbs it without visible reaction, a testament to his extensive training and experience in high-stress environments.
The president, observing the almost imperceptible stiffening of Gandhi's posture. Her experience tells her that Gandhi just received a piece of pivotal information. Her voice, when she speaks, a mix of authority and urgency.
"Gandhi, report,” President Wynn ordered. “What's the situation?”
Gandhi turns slightly, acknowledging her with a nod before responding. “Madam President, the commandos are not acting alone. Intel suggests they are a diversion—a part of a larger strategy. There are indications of a cyber-attack targeting our financial and national lab infrastructures, timed to coincide with this assault."
The revelation sends a chill through the situation room. The stakes are higher than anticipated, and the firefight was just the visible tip of the spear. The president's face hardened, her resolve firming. “Prepare all units for a multi-front defense. Gandhi, I want to solve the Arizona situation now and I want options for next steps on the table in five minutes. Please get the strategists spun up on already existing plans. Implement defensive and offensive responses. This Arizona thing must end now! And get me the sit rep on the cyber-attack too."
Gandhi nodded and relays the direction from the president back to the teams. Observing the screens for a moment, it seemed to Bella that the commandos had gained a tactical advantage and were within meters of breaching the lab perimeter. The multiple screens show the continued firefight and the frantic activity in the command center and cyber-defense wing.
________
On the ground in Arizona, the distant thump of HH-60G Pave Hawk helicopter blades cutting through the air began to swell. Reinforcements from DM are on approach, vital support the beleaguered defenders desperately needed. Not just any reinforcements but the elite Guardian Angels spec ops. As the rotors' echo grows louder, it mingled with the relentless crackle of gunfire, weaving a complex tapestry of hope and conflict.
The defenders, now a mix of seasoned warriors, battle tested special operations team members and those they affectionately called guardian angels. They understand all too well the gravity of their predicament. Additionally unmanned drones equipped with precision small payload bombs are enroute. USAF F35 fighters fly high altitude top cover.
News spreads quickly among their ranks—the Iranian commandos, sensing it’s now or never, struck in an escalation of the conflict, daring to bring the fight directly to their mountain stronghold and its defenders. Such boldness is unsettling, and the fact that the president had invoked the Posse Comitatus Act means this is no ordinary skirmish; it was a full-scale invasion on our soil with an unprecedented counter defense.
An RPG exploded near the exterior blast-proof door of the lab. Then another, then another. Bullets and granite shards ricocheted through the air. Smoke and the acrid smell of explosives filled the mountain forest. The overwhelming smell was as sharp as a finely honed KA BAR combat blade and just as threatening. The brave defenders were clearly outgunned, and it was clear these were terrorists were willing to die for their cause. Suicide fighters. The combined defense force will not let the attackers prevail.
_____
The situation room is bathed in the ghostly glow of multiple monitors, each displaying a different angle of the chaos. The scenes captured on these screens were chilling: the Iranian commandos move with lethal precision, their coordination impeccable. They keep coming, they must have reinforcements and additional munitions stowed in mountain caves. This was a well-planned attack. The bad guys continue the upper hand. It shows. Each frame of the live feed underscores their advantage. They, having breached defenses that had been thought impregnable.
Gandhi, his gaze fixed on the largest of the screens, analyzed their movements, a knot of worry tightening in his stomach. The defenders, despite their courage and skill, were being systematically pushed back and outmaneuvered at every turn. The Iranians’ tactics were ruthless and meticulously planned, leaving little room for the defenders to regroup or counterattack.
_______
On the mountain, the rumble of the helicopter side gunners oppressive fire from their GAU-21 .50 caliber machine guns was a deafening roar. Two additional tactical helicopters sliced through the gray sky, arriving just in time to tilt the balance of the fight. Swinging into action, they unleashed a barrage of gunfire against the known positions of the Iranian commandos. Bullets rain down with precise fury, churning the earth and forcing the commandos into cover.
This aggressive onslaught provided a critical moment of respite for the defenders on the ground, creating what could be considered the first semblance of a safe zone in the heat of battle. It was a calculated risk, but one that paid off as it paved the way for the next phase of the operation.
A third and fourth helicopter approached, hovering deftly over a designated clearing, their blades whipping the volatile air into a frenzy. With the enemy momentarily pinned down, the doors of these helicopters swung open and fast ropes were thrown out. Rappelling down swiftly were reinforcements—more warfighters along with additional guardian angels, including the medics known for their bravery and swift action under fire. The medics with pre arrival intelligence know where to find the injured defenders and provide battlefield relief to their downed countrymen. They work with an urgency dictated by the rhythm of the ongoing gunfire, stabilized injuries and pulled others to safety.
The air force troops fanned out, taking positions and reinforcing the beleaguered defenders. The presence of fresh forces breathed new life into those who have been holding the line, their morale bolstered by the sight of their comrades arriving to share the burden of battle.
With reinforcements on the ground and a strategic advantage regained, the tide of the battle began to turn. The defenders, energized with the additional support, launched a counteroffensive. Defenders moved with renewed vigor, pressing forward, reclaiming territory foot by precious foot. Under the cover of helicopter gunships and the relentless determination of their ground forces, they started to gain the upper hand.
The commandos, caught off-guard by the ferocity and timing of the counterattack, find themselves on the defensive. The battle's momentum shifted, and for the first time since the onset of the attack, hope surged among the defenders. They were not just surviving now; they were fighting back with a chance to win.
__________
As the videos screens in the command center displayed the defenders’ rallying, coordinating with the incoming reinforcements, Gandhi’s headset buzzed with surprising news. He listened intently with his back to the conference table, away from the chaos of the screen and the ongoing live dialog from the firefight. The voice on the other end was terse and urgent, bearing news that twists the already knotted situation further.
Gandhi placed his comms on speaker mode. “We have confirmation on the identity of the commando leader,” the intelligence officer reported. “It’s Payman.”
Gandhi's brow furrowed deeply, the name hitting him like a physical blow, “Payman? But intel reported him dead last year.”
“Apparently, those reports were mistaken,” the officer replied, a mix of frustration and disbelief in his tone. “He's very much alive, and leading this assault.”
The battlefield was chaos, but amidst the disarray, a clear signal emerged: the remaining commandos were in full retreat. Drone feeds streamed live footage of the battleground, revealing the grim aftermath—many of the attackers lay dead or grievously wounded, their movements sluggish and defeated. Amidst the scattered and broken, one feed zoomed in on a figure that made Bella's heart stop. There, limping away but unmistakably alive, was Payman.
"It's real... he's alive," Bella shouts, disbelief etching her voice. Gandhi, standing next to her, stared at the screen, his expression hardening. "He didn't perish in the crevasse on the Swiss glacier," he murmured. "It was all a ruse, a deception." Gandhi placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Bella felt profound betrayal, a stinging pain gnawed at her from inside. In a sudden surge of anger, rising from her seat, she rips the Rolex Sky-Dweller watch from her wrist—a gift she had selected for Payman, once a symbol of love, now a mark of duplicity—and hurls it at the monitor. The heavy watch strikes the screen with a thud, the image of Payman obscured by destroyed LEDs. A Secret Service agent, trained for sudden threats, moved instinctively toward Bella, his hand reaching out to intercept any further actions.
Bella's scream cut through the tension. “You bastard, fucking liar!”
As it became clear that there was no physical threat to the dignitaries, only the raw outburst of a wounded heart, the atmosphere shifted from alert to somber understanding. The president approached with a gentle expression and wrapped an arm around Bella's shoulders, drawing her into a comforting embrace.
“I feel for you, young lady,” the president said softly. “Men can have their faults.”
Around them, the situation room slowly settled back into focusing on the retreat and the securing of the area. But for Bella, this moment marks a personal turning point, the emotional battleground proving just as harrowing as the physical one the defenders have begun to master.
_________
Gandhi continued relaying information to the group. Bella took a seat back, quietly sobbing into Jack’s arms. Calmed both by President Wynn and Jack. She is fuming, definitely not over the situation.
Prime Minister Jennings picked up the watch and handed it to Jack. “This watch looks valuable. Sturdy at least. Put it in your pocket, save it for a better day.”
Jack, wondering how to approach the lack of tact, answered awkwardly, “Okay, yes, good money was spent on it.”
“I’ve often heard the President say that if all of us leaders were women we wouldn’t have such brutal wars,” Jennings said. “Maybe we need more women in charge. I’ll let one have my job.” He finished with an audible chuckle.
They continued to observe two different screens: the mountain command center; and the cyber team. Each team tense, with analysts and military strategists murmuring amongst themselves, their centers brilliant with multiple screens providing each with the information they needed to deal with unique threats.
Each center is ringed by live operational screens specific to their tasks—one tracking a firefight in Arizona, the other managing the cyber-attack. The rapid typing of keys and the urgent scribbling of notes fills the air with a sense of anticipation. Well-orchestrated like a symphony.
A small celebration erupted from the cyber team; Gandhi confirmed that the cyber threat had been neutralized and their focus had shifted to retaliatory measures. Meanwhile, the firefight in Arizona has turned. The adversaries have retreated, taking cover amidst what locally was known as the ‘City of Rocks’, a massive forest of granite boulders. The search for the bad guys continued, boulder by boulder, just like clearing a structure. The search for Payman was unsuccessful. Despite their efforts, the drones overhead failed to pick up any adversary heat signatures or movement. Seven Iranian commando bodies had been recovered. Two additional wounded were taken into custody for later interrogation.
Two HRT team members were killed. Four others had been airlifted to a medical facility by the guardian angels. The air force combat teams had retreated to bring the wounded to DM. The remaining team members began fortifying the defenses. The clean-up begins.
For the moment, the immediate threat from the intruders had been neutralized. Several seem to have vanished, with the team speculated that the assailants might have taken refuge in an abandoned mine shaft. A thorough search would have to be conducted for them following the firefight debriefing. Guards were posted to ensure a follow up attack could not happen. The cyber-attack has been decisively quashed. Now, is a moment for everyone—from the fighters in Arizona to the analysts and strategists in the command centers, and even the president and her advisors in the situation room—to take a collective breath, savor the victories, and steel themselves for the next challenges.
Bella, still seething with anger, glowered at the report that Payman might have eluded death, and allowed herself to remain in Jack’s comforting arms.
“Wild!!! It really has a Da Vinci Code flow.” – Beta reader
“Dude — you know so much about EVERYTHING! It reads like a Dan …
I can't wait to read your 2nd book! Best wishes! M.
on Jan. 6, 2025, 8:48 p.m.
Exciting Mark! Can't wait to read it.