Mykal's Return to Towbar's World Read online

  TOWBAR’S WORLD—BOOK 2

  MYKAL’S RETURN TO TOWBAR’S WORLD

  By Dave Hazel

  Text copyright © 2014 David F Hazel

  All Rights Reserved, including reproduction

  in whole or in part in any form.

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  AUTHOR’S NOTE:

  Mykal’s Return To Towbar’s World

  is a stand-alone book,

  but it is highly recommended to read Book 1 first –

  37 Days In A Strange World

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE 09/23/1983

  CHAPTER TWO 11/16/1983

  CHAPTER THREE 11/21/1983

  CHAPTER FOUR 11/29/1983

  CHAPTER FIVE 11/30/1983

  CHAPTER SIX 12/06/1983

  CHAPTER SEVEN 12/07/1983

  CHAPTER EIGHT 12/08/1983

  CHAPTER NINE 12/09/1983

  CHAPTER TEN 12/10/1983

  CHAPTER ELEVEN 12/11/1983

  CHAPTER TWELVE 12/12/1983

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN 12/13/1983

  CHAPTER ONE 09/23/1983

  1. Friday, September 23rd 1983

  0758 hours, An office on Minot Air Force Base, N.D.

  Sergeant Mykal Graves sat alone in a quiet, but unpleasantly warm office. The metal chair with a padded seat stood stiff and unyielding just as the hard, cold, military issue desk. The desk, a plain gray metal behemoth of government issued furniture looked dreary. The desk top lay bare except for a military issue monthly desk calendar laid out with various appointments written in red ink. Mykal wasn’t sure whose desk he sat at but he would hate to sit at the cold desk every day.

  Mykal picked at a piece of lint on his navy blue trousers. It reminded him how much he hated his dress blue uniform. For more than a month Mykal had been required to wear his blues. As if his dress uniform would make a difference to the facts of his bizarre experience. He had been interviewed -‘interrogated’- and questioned -‘grilled constantly’- every day as if he had committed a horrendous crime. Mykal and several others returned after having disappeared for 37 days.

  He tried to tell those above him his BDUs (camouflaged Battle Dress Uniform) would be more comfortable, thus his recollection of events would flow easier. The “higher ups” didn’t care about his comfort. They only cared about every detail of his 37 day adventure into ‘another world’. His bizarre experience required a steady 10 to 14 hours of daily observation, interrogation and evaluation. Since his return eight weeks ago, his life turned into a mental hell that wouldn’t end.

  On June 23rd, just three months prior, eighty-five people, military and civilians, disappeared from the face of the earth along with a Minuteman III nuclear missile. On July 29th only sixteen of the eighty-five returned with wild tales of a war in another time and place.

  Mykal and the others had been confined to Minot AFB “for their own protection” while the investigations dragged on endlessly. Subsequently an Air Force Minuteman III nuclear missile was still missing and unaccounted for along with 69 other people who were still listed as “missing”. The U.S. Government will not stop until every stone has been turned, re-turned, and turned again.

  Mykal Graves seemed to bear more of the pressure weighed on him since he happened to be the senior ranking person who returned. As a Sergeant in the United States Air Force Security Police career field he had been looked upon as the leader among the sixteen returnees. Though only a junior NCO, Mykal proved to have more evidence to back up his claims than any of the others. Mykal had much stronger ties to the “other world” as it was quietly being called. The tales shared from those who returned seemed too farfetched, the stuff of fantasy movies and novels. But there was no wavering in the accounts shared by all the returnees.

  The investigation had been long, deep and exhaustive. His every word had been analyzed, examined, cross examined and crisscross examined. The young Sergeant’s every spoken word commanded the attention of all the brass; “everybody who’s an anybody,” Mykal would say referring to all involved in any part of the secret investigation to determine what happened in the disappearance of a Minuteman III nuclear missile. The fact that 69 military and civilian people were still missing was secondary. The entire investigation had been classified SCI, Sensitive Compartmented Information. The classification was one step above Top Secret.

  Their story of being transported to a strange world that doesn’t exist, where they were caught in the middle of a war between two warring nations was unbelievable, outrageous, and seemingly impossible--but true. Some of the hard evidence to back up “Mykal’s story” as some were calling it couldn’t be denied. Mykal hated that name because he wasn’t the only one to survive the experience and return. He had been questioned over and over and had repeated the same information so many times that in most interview sessions he could predict most of the questions thrown at him.

  Of the sixteen who returned ten were Air Force personnel and six were civilians. The U.S. government’s primary concern was, is and will be to recover the nuclear weapon. The prevailing fear dominating the discussion groups dealt with the weapon being in the wrong hands. National security supersedes the inconvenience of those living under the investigative microscope.

  Mykal sat in the small office, waiting as in a holding room in preparation to brief another group of curious Colonels and Generals who wanted to hear firsthand the tale that is secretly being passed around in selected circles. Mykal had grown angry and fed up, but being an “enlisted pee-on” he must bow to the requests of the senior officers over him. He felt like an organ-grinder monkey with a cup. ‘I gotta run out and do my little song and dance and hopefully they’ll allow me some time with my family,’ he thought in hopes they would understand his emotional state. ‘I just gotta play the friggin game. Just play the friggin game,’ he thought. He encouraged himself with that line hundreds of times since the days of the investigation dragged on and on.

  Since his return he had only seen his wife and two sons a handful of times and all those visits were supervised. He’d been assured he wasn’t under arrest but he and the others were being watched carefully and if anyone of them broke the blanket of silence placed over them they would be locked up for national security precautions until the matter was fully resolved.

  Mykal knew he couldn’t beat the “big bad Uncle Sam,” but he gladly accepted the crumbs thrown his way until his commitment to the United States Air Force would be fulfilled and completed. ‘I’m not gonna take a chance of them locking me up,’ Mykal thought many times.

  Mykal desperately wanted to take off his tie and loosen the front of his shirt but he knew he was moments away from sitting before more “big shots” with heavy brass on their shoulders. He really wanted to get up and sneak out to run away but he knew that would lead to real confinement and lockdown. The consequences wouldn’t be worth the few moments of pleasurable escape. The higher ups would come down on him like a ton of bricks.

  “Play the friggin game,” he whispered to himself. “Just ride it out. It’s gotta end sometime. It could be worse,” he reassured himself. All the strangers were studying him like a rare animal, trying to pick his brain apart because they had no answers for the strange facts of his case.

  Many of the observers and evaluators, interviewers and interrogators still refused to believe “Mykal’s story” and were trying to uncover his plot to steal and hide a Minuteman III nuclear missile. There had to be a link or involvement with some unknown terrorist organization, or Mykal had to be in league with some rogue nation to harm the United States. There was no valid information that other nations or entities were involved in any way. The nuke and 69 people vanished from the face of the earth.

 
“Mykal’s story” had been well crafted and seemed to have few holes, but it just couldn’t be possible. Could there really be another world unknown to the finest scientific minds of the planet? Could there really be another world with human beings, hidden in our solar system? As much as it drove him crazy to explain what happened, it drove “them” crazy to refute the story that he and the others wouldn’t budge on.

  Sitting at the dull cold desk with his hands folded on his lap, he felt the start of a headache begin again. The throbbing of a dull ache at his temples grew. Boredom and anger rose at the thought of going through the same motions day after day and not accomplishing anything. He just wanted a little bit of freedom to spend some time with his family. It saddened him that some of his friends would never get to see their families again.

  His feelings toward the military and his superiors hit rock bottom during the past couple of weeks. After all the broken promises of allowing him to spend some real quality time with his family, it became a chore to perform his dog and pony show.

  The second hurtful broken promise dealt with going public and lifting the imposed silence. Mykal wanted the anxious families of the “Missing”, to know the truth about their loved ones. Mykal only wanted to share the facts, to enable many of the families to have closure. He felt terrible that he had to keep silent, thus keeping families of friends hanging in limbo. He wasn’t allowed to say one word of the whereabouts or conditions of “Missing” loved ones. They were no longer listed as MIA-Missing In Action, but down-graded to Missing. The military didn’t want to disclose any action had been involved.

  ‘I don’t wanna go through all this stuff again,’ he moaned silently and dropped his head slightly with a sigh when he looked at the clock. He knew he was going to be late. “Play the game,” he whispered. “Just play the friggin game.”

  The creek of the door opening caught his attention. He looked up to see Captain William Roberts enter the room. William stopped in the doorway with a large friendly smile on his face. His smile always seemed a little too friendly. William stared at Mykal’s face as if he was trying to understand Mykal’s feelings by his expression. William looked much different in doors when his hat was removed. The top of William’s bald head always seemed to have a striking shine to it. With his hat off he looked much older. His black framed military issue glasses always seem to slide down his nose, but then he always appeared to be looking over the top of the frames anyway.

  At first glance Mykal imagined William being a bully’s favorite victim. ‘He looks like a friggin nerd.’ Mykal knew, however, Captain William Roberts was no pushover. William had earned a black belt in a couple of different forms of martial arts and he kept himself in very good shape. Mykal had become friends with William since he hadn’t been allowed to be around others. There had always been something about William that just didn’t seem right though. Mykal wasn’t sure if his mistrust was because he normally wouldn’t spend time with officers, but William had been good to Mykal in all their dealings and since he had been “shackled” to the guy for the past four weeks he thought William to be a “good guy” in his book.

  “Well, come on Myk.” William rushed to the desk and dropped his brief case. He set down his stack of several packed manila folders and loose papers so he could readjust and organize his large bundle. “We can’t be late, but we are,” William said after he looked to the clock on the wall. He quickly re-stacked his mess. “Generals and Colonels don’t take kindly to be left waiting for an appointment or a briefing.”

  “I know, I know, but I’ve been waiting here.” Mykal shook his head defensively. “The Generals can make us wait as long as they like, but don’t you dare make them wait. Right?”

  “Exactly,” William fumbled with some of the paperwork. “We are late and this is entirely my fault. I’m going to take heat for this.” William sighed and looked at his watch to confirm the time. “They’re waiting for us.” William pinned some folders to his body with his arm. “Let’s go. We should’ve been there ten minutes ago.”

  “Why don’t you just tell them to read all the stuff that’s in your damn arms?” Mykal quipped hinting at his feelings. “It would save us all a lot of trouble.”

  “No! There are a couple new Generals here this time,” he said without looking up from his paper chaos that he tried to wrangle. “And there are many who have never attended one of these briefings.”

  “Seriously Will, how many more times am I gonna have to do this? It’s all in those reports. I’ve done this a thousand times,” he inflated the number for effect. “I’m really fed up with this. I’m having a hard time just going through the motions.”

  “Myk, I’m just a Captain in this man’s Air Force. I receive my orders and I carry out said orders. You would be wise to do the same. I’m not the one who arranges these meetings and briefings. I’m assigned to you as your military counsel, as an advisor and now I’m your friend. When the big wheels, or as you say, ‘big shots’ tell us that you have to be at such and such a place at 0800 hours, it is my job to ensure you arrive at such and such a place as scheduled. Now, this time it is my fault, but for both our sakes, let’s get our little bodies moving.”

  “But seriously Will, how many more times am I gonna have to do all this stuff?” Mykal said and opened the door for William. “I’m really sick of all this. It’s like I’m some kinda friggin zoo animal. I haven’t had any time to spend with my family.”

  “Myk, I know, and I understand where you’re coming from,” William said when he picked up his pile of a somewhat neater clump. “I’m not going to lie to you. Honestly, I just don’t know.”

  “But what grates my ass is the fact that some of these damn morons still talk to me like I’m lying about everything. Even after they’ve compared my version with everyone else’s version. Do you need a hand with that stuff?””

  “No thanks, I have it,” William answered. “But I really don’t think it’s the case of them not believing you,” William said when he rushed through the door. “I think they are just so amazed at your story and all that happened. The fact that there is another world out there that hasn’t been discovered is hard to accept. They need to hear it a couple of times for it to sink in.”

  “A couple of times?” Mykal snorted sarcastically. “Do you know how many times I been doing this song and dance routine O’ Willy boy? Try a couple of hundred times at least and I’m really starting to get fed up with it. No, let me correct that. I am fed up with it. I’ve had to see big shots, little shots and middle shots. I’ve had to see shrinks, dinks and finks. I’m so fed up with all this stuff that I’m actually tempted to walk out the door and never come back and say ‘Hey, screw you Mister General’ while I’m flipping them off,” he said and demonstrated jerking his fist in the air and slapping the bend in his arm with his other hand. “I don’t need these headaches anymore.”

  “I understand what you’re trying to say,” William said and shook his head. This wasn’t the first time Mykal expressed his frustration. “But if you do something like that then you’ll be dealing with bigger headaches. We both don’t need that kind of trouble. I’m responsible for you. Don’t you remember? My butt is on the line too. Besides, you’re getting paid for this. Just be patient Myk. There is talk of them going public with this.”

  “Are you serious?” He asked. “Right now, that’s all I want besides time with my family.”

  “Yes I’m serious.” William stopped in his tracks and looked Mykal directly in the eye. “You didn’t hear this because I didn’t say this. Do you understand me? But there are serious discussions of going public.”

  “Yeah. Sure, no problem,” he replied and they continued walking. “And your little comment about me getting paid,” Mykal scoffed and shook his head. “I’m a Sergeant, so what does that come out to, fifty cents a day,” he exaggerated. “Oh yeah, this is worth every friggin penny I’m making. But why am I the one they’re picking on? Oh I mean interrogating? Oh I mean investigating? Oh I m
ean singling out? Oh I mean--”

  “Do you mean interviewing?” William calmly corrected him.

  “Oh yeah, that’s what they’re calling it these days.”

  “They’ve questioned the others,” William said with a slight sigh. “You’ve asked me this several times,” he added as they turned down another corridor. “Yes Myk, they do keep coming back to you for a number of reasons. You have the highest rank of those who returned. You had more dealings with the natives of the other land and your attention to detail is phenomenal. Besides, when the others were interviewed, they all pointed to you as being the leader and not just because you have more rank over them. But back to the first reason, you’re the senior man who returned.”

  “Oh boy, this rank stuff is making me tingle all over with happiness. As a sergeant, I’m really nothing more than a glorified Senior Airman,” Mykal said and gave a mock smile as they walked past others who stopped to stare at Mykal. So many rumors and secret stories were being spread around the military complex about him. Nearly everyone on the base heard of Mykal though most didn’t know all the details of what was being kept “hush-hush”.

  Commanders relayed to their organizations in a roundabout way they were not permitted to discuss the “rumors and hearsay” that had been floating around the military base or face the consequences.

  “I’ll tell ya Will, I really don’t need or want this aggravation anymore,” Mykal said quietly so others couldn’t hear him. “Money wise, I think I’ll do okay.” He smiled. “But I just want you to know I’m only doing this for you. To keep you outta trouble,” he said playfully.

  “Well, I really appreciate that,” William said without looking back at him. “And I hope you’re not hinting at money as if you are thinking about getting out of the Air Force and selling your story. Without the proper release from the proper authorities, well, you know I don’t need to explain what will happen. They will nail your balls to the wall and they will ruin you. Please trust me when I say they will ruin you thoroughly.”