“Forget about Vogel,” Zac said bluntly. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to help you,” Von Meter replied. “You want to know about your past. I can supply the missing details. But first, I need to know what you do remember.”
“Why?”
“How would I know where to begin, otherwise?”
Zac supposed the explanation was logical enough, but he still didn’t trust the old man. “I don’t remember much,” he admitted reluctantly. “My parents died when I was just a kid. I was raised in a series of foster homes until I turned eighteen. After I left the system, I drifted for a while, then joined the navy. Eventually, I ended up working in the intelligence community before I was recruited into a classified special ops program, code name Phoenix.”
When he paused, Von Meter nodded encouragingly. “Please go on.”
“The training was conducted in a series of underground bunkers at the old Montauk Air Force Station on Long Island. I remember very little about my time there or the missions we carried out, but I do recall being on board a submarine at some point. There was an accident. Some kind of explosion. We crash-dove to the bottom of the North Atlantic where we were trapped for days. Most of the crew died. A hundred and something men. I think there were other survivors besides me, but I never saw them. I spent weeks in the hospital where I was subjected to long periods of isolation and rigorous debriefing sessions. After a while, I lost track of time and the details of the accident began to fade. Some days I had a hard time remembering my own name.” He paused as the feelings of loneliness and confusion washed over him once again. Then he shrugged them away. “That’s about it. I was later discharged from the navy.”
“They said you were mentally unfit to serve.”
Zac got up and walked over to the window to stare out at the snow. The discharge still rankled five years later.
Von Meter spoke from behind him. “You mentioned something about Project Phoenix. It was, and is, an operation much larger in scope than a special ops program.”
Zac turned from the window. Something the old man said rang a bell. “How so?”
“Project Phoenix is a privately funded, covert organization comprised of scientists, military personnel, and leaders from business and technology—some of the finest minds in the world. The advances we’ve made in psychotronics, telekinetic studies and interdimensional phasing, just to name a few, are far more vast and intricate than most people could even begin to imagine.”
Zac wondered if he was dealing with a lucid mind here. The things the old man spoke of were impossible. And yet…something inside him warned that Von Meter spoke the truth. And that truth was somehow directly related to Zac. That was why he was here.
He studied the old man for a moment, trying to gauge his sanity. “Even if what you say is true, what does any of that have to do with me?”
“The goal of Project Phoenix was to create an army of secret warriors—super soldiers if you will—with psionic abilities. Once their training was complete, their memories were erased and they were sent back home or back out into society until such time as they were needed. That’s why you’re here, Zac. You are being called back into service.”
“Wait a minute.” Zac’s pulse jumped in spite of himself. “Are you saying I’m one of these…super soldiers?” When the old man nodded, Zac laughed, but the sound seemed hollow even to him. “Obviously, you’ve got the wrong man, doc. If I had any special abilities, psionic or otherwise, I wouldn’t be working in a dump like Blue Monday’s. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be here.”
“But you do possess a special skill,” Von Meter assured him. “One that makes you uniquely qualified for the mission on which you are about to embark.”
“Mission? Uh, no. I don’t think so. Sorry, old man. I don’t take orders anymore, not from you or anyone else. And even if I did, you haven’t said one single thing to convince me you aren’t running some kind of con here. My guess is you need a patsy, but I’m not as desperate or as stupid as you seem to think. And, as far as this mission of yours is concerned, I’m not going anywhere but home.”
He started to rise, but Von Meter’s gruff voice halted him. “Wait. Just hear me out a moment longer. If you still want to leave after I’m finished, then you can do so with my blessing.”
Zac didn’t really care whether he had the old man’s blessing or not, but seeing as how he didn’t have anywhere else to go on a cold, blustery night in Philadelphia, he sat back down. If nothing else, Von Meter’s charade could get interesting.
“Have you ever heard of something called the Philadelphia Experiment?”
Zac nodded. “Yeah. It’s a bar on South Street.”
The old man waved an impatient hand. “I’m not talking about a bar. I’m talking about an event. The disappearance of a U.S. warship back in 1943.”
Zac eyed the old man with skepticism. “I know what you’re talking about. But the Philadelphia Experiment is a myth. An urban legend based on the navy’s experiments during the war with electromagnetic fields. Scientists were trying to find a way to make ships invisible to enemy mines by demagnetizing the hulls, but according to the legend, what they achieved instead was visual stealth. Optical invisibility. Whatever you want to call it. That sound about right?”
Von Meter nodded eagerly. “Yes, precisely. But what if I were to tell you that the Philadelphia Experiment is more than a legend?” He leaned forward, his eyes lit with an uncanny glow. “What if I were to tell you that the powerful magnetic fields created by the specially designed generators installed on that ship somehow ripped a hole in the space-time continuum? What if I were to tell you the ship didn’t become invisible? It entered another dimension. It traveled forward in time, and when it came back, it left something in its wake.”
Tingles stole up and down Zac’s spine as he gazed at Von Meter. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about a secret passage. A time tunnel, if you will. A wormhole that links the present to the past. To 1943 to be precise.” The old man’s smile deepened Zac’s chill. “We’ve found it, you see. We know the location of the wormhole, and we have every intention of sending someone through it. Someone who is uniquely qualified for such a mission. That someone…is you, Zac.”
Chapter Two
She dreamed that Adam was still alive. The vision seemed so real, it was as if that day in the park had never happened.
But even in her sleep, Camille knew it wasn’t real. Adam was dead, and no amount of wishful thinking was ever going to bring him back.
But his voice… She could still hear it in her sleep.
“Mom, can you really teach me how to play baseball?” he was asking her.
In her dream, Camille grinned down at him, her heart swelling with love. “You bet I can. I’ll teach you just like my mother taught me.”
“Why didn’t your dad teach you?”
“Because my dad died when I was little. You know that, Adam. We’ve talked about it before.”
“Did my dad die, too?” he asked solemnly. “Is that why he’s not here to play baseball with me?”
How was she supposed to answer that question, Camille wondered sadly, when the truth was something she still hadn’t come to terms with herself? Adam’s father wasn’t dead. He simply…didn’t remember them.
Luckily, the child suddenly became distracted by something else, and he let the matter drop. “Mom, why is that man watching us?”
Startled, she glanced