The Stony Brook University Marine Station at Southampton campus is a very well designed building according to AD. Good job to the architects. Such buildings are welcomed additions to any neighborhood. It's not unusual that such a building would be found on the East End, a rather charming place to begin with. Improving suburbia needs to be wrestled out of the developers hands for the rest of the island who put profit ahead of community and do not develop buildings such as this one.
It was the next morning. The cottage was just as foul smelling as before with its deep dirty sock musty odder. We had no food or coffee and I had a slight hangover. We both sat back rubbing the sleep out of our eyes and just sat there thinking. Tom spoke first: "So what's the plan?" I frankly had no idea. I didn't even know if I could trust Tom, after all only a day before I knew him as as "Chris, surfer dude." "What would you be normally doing right now?" "I would be going out into town getting something to eat pretending to be a local, hanging out with the boys. In the afternoon I would go to the Montauk for my shift and check in with Gunther..." "The butler looking type who pretended to have checked me in?" " Yes that's him. He's Air Force operative, not a hotelier. Anyway, I usually go like that for a number of days before they come for me...all depends" "How do they come for you?" "In a van, Men In Black, types..." "Men in black, huh...I'm assuming if you don't check in this afternoon they'll know something is up. Do they know you're with me?" "Yes, I called it in, after your encounter with Red that is. It's when you saw me out there surfing, I was really on my cell giving my report. I told them I would be trying to get further intel from you, sorry..." " What did they tell you to do about me?" Tom shrugged his shoulders sheepishly, "They wanted me to get as much info from you as possible and then set up your "Extraction". " "OK Tom, we need to act fast." I now knew what their next move would be and it wasn't going to be a pleasant one. "Tom, we're going hiking. We'll make our way to the Deep Hollow Ranch through the brush and bramble" "Why the ranch, why hike?" "We need to get off the grid and travel by unconventional ways, let's see the Colonel stag a car accident now, or send his van through the trails...have you ever seen a "suit" go camping or hiking? No you haven't. It will be hard for them to follow us and the ranch is the best place to keep an eye out for anyone coming for us. "But that's heading East! Shouldn't we be going the other way to make our escape?" "No. That's what they're expecting, we would never make it. Let's cross our fingers that we run into "Him"; It's our only chance..."
Tom and I gathered whatever camping supplies were around, filled two back packs and headed for the beach. We got to the oceans edge, looked west then east. We both looked at the ocean inhaled the salt water breeze and closed our eyes in meditation mixed with prayer for a good outcome; we would need all the help we could get... But now we needed to get down to business. "Tom, give me your cell phone, this thing is a taking a trip on the LIRR, (Long Island Rail Road) back west, let's get to the train station. Tom and I walked through the brush, found some trails, made it through town the back way. I didn't know if we were being followed but we were extra cautious. We made it to the train station without being noticed, at least I think we weren't noticed. To the east I couldn't help stare at the Montauk Manor atop Signal Hill which looked beautiful but I had no time to admire the scenery or think about what I went through there, I needed to find a train heading west, which I did. I got on board, tucked the phone in a secure spot pressed a random phone number and took off. Tom and I headed for the brush and waited. I kept an eye on the train. Within 5 minutes of waiting I got sight of a few men in suits getting on and off the trains looking for us. I couldn't believe my eyes; I saw Devon, that weasel directing a few guys to get on various cars of the train. Tom whispered, "Those are the guys!!! They're looking for us, Jeez! How the hell are we going to pull this off!!!" "Tom grab hold of yourself. This means they don't know where we are. They'll figure out we're not on the train eventually but at least they can't track us now." "But they will always be looking for us! They won't stop, what do we do!" "We wait." To my amazement a pick-up truck, or should I say a "Monster Truck" wanna be comes blazing into the train station with piercing loud mufflers. Down a little ladder steps out Marcus, cut sleeve flannel shirt and camouflage baseball cap looking like "Larry the Cable Guy".... He walks over to Devon who pulls out a picture to which I see Marcus vigorously pointing to it. I couldn't hear what they were saying but I think this is the military's way of sending out the Blood Hounds...."Tom, I see Marcus down there, can he follow us through the trails?" "Unless he can get his pick up through them, then no. However Marcus knows Montauk inside and out, it's just a matter of time..." "Tom, stop it. We're going to be OK."
Tom and I sat there until night fall, a full hour after they left. Eventually the coast was clear and we headed off through the trails once again. I ventured into a convenience store to buy some food and water for our trip and made it back to Tom who was waiting for me trying to stay out of sight. I used my credit card and knew it would would be tracked but I had no choice- I found an ATM machine outside the store and withdrew cash- I had to be more clever now if we were going to make it. As we made back through town we passed the Montauk Tower and I had to stop and look; The answer to all of this lies somewhere in that Tower. I saw a light turn on then off. On then off-wait a minute someone is trying to communicate with me! Tom tugged at my shoulder and broke my fixation on the Tower - we couldn't stay and risk being captured so we continued to walk towards the Atlantic shore. We walked for miles along the beach, Tom, whining, "I'm hungry and tired" every half mile. We were far from the cottage and I thought it safe to scout for a spot. There was no vehicle or pedestrian traffic access or any hint of civilization for miles so I decided to stop. The only other living things around were the ever constant deer. Their population was a healthy one owing to the fact that no hunting was allowed. "OK Tom let's camp out here." We built a camp fire and roasted a packet of hot dogs I had just bought. The night air wasn't so cold, winter was on it's way out. The winds were calm, the stars were shining bright and the waves gently pressed forward and back. "So Tom, tell me, what are you going to do once this is all over?" "I'm not sure. I don't know what to do. My old life wasn't much better than this one, always locked up in one way or the other ...." "How about you?" "Me? Well, I don't have much to go back to either. I now know sometimes to win you must lose. Before Montauk I clung to the world and all of it's lies. I gave up my life only to find it again. Now I really don't care about anything. I don't mean literally everything, I just don't fall for the lies anymore. I consider myself a free man now. I'm not about to be captured and spend time in some military monkey cell-no that won't happen- I'm not going to let it, I'm prepared should this not work out. Tom I suggest you do the same if you want your freedom." Tom looked at me as if i were crazy. I didn't think he would understand but you never know with some people. The camp fire was still going strong and so we
continued with our conversation.
"What can you tell me about the Montauk Man?" "Don't know much about him. The military is looking for him. I stumbled upon some technology he's utilizing, the military of course wants to know more about it, hence why I'm here. Some think he's an alien, which is not out of the realm of possibilities" "Why do you say that?' "Because, like I told you he's some sort of antenna. OK what's so great about that you ask? Well the information he is receiving are single streams of light rays, the ones with the information I told you about. The fact that he's receiving them is like the accuracy of 10 to the thousand power. Imagine shooting a grain of sand from this beach to California and accurately hitting a stamp on the side of a flower pot let's say in Los Angeles, and I'm being conservative because we don't how far the signal actually comes from. It may be like trying to send this grain of sand to Venus and trying to hit a flower pot on it, it's mind blowing."
"That's amazing stuff, you must be a real genius..." "Well not bragging but I did graduate top of my class at MIT in Maths..."
We were both tired and luckily had small individual tents to retire for the night. I put out the camp fire and looked at the ocean once again before I went to bed. I fell asleep but was awaken to a strange noise, I looked at my watch and it was 3:00 am. I sat up and listened carefully: Yes there it was again, a hum that was getting louder and louder. Wait a minute that hum is a motor engine, and it's coming from down the shore. I got up opened my tent door and saw about a mile away two flickering lights; damn it's that monster truck and it's heading this way at a high rate of speed, Shit! I ran over to Tom's tent and screamed "WAKE UP, WAKE UP! Tom was bleary eyed,"what, what..." "We gotta move NOW! Pack up your stuff!" I could hear the truck getting closer and could see it clearly now as it swerved back and forth on the beach sand sometimes driving through the waters edge spraying sea mist up high.
I already had an exit trail marked before we had gone to bed just in case and we needed to run in a moments notice. Marcus did a few 360's around our now dead camp fire. He stepped out of his monster truck looked to the edge of the brush and shouted, "You two morons are in for a world of hurt! Come on out now and they'll go easy on you, you have my word!" "Don't move a muscle Tom, he'll go away soon enough. We're getting lucky this time they sent this imbecile for us. Next time they will do a little better, night vision goggles and men with AR rifles will be after us we need to prepare better..."
I resigned to the thought that whatever surfer dude had to tell me could wait until we got back to the cottage, I wasn't going to press him here at the cafe. I asked Chris if he wanted anything else to eat to which he shook his head in the negative, looking rather upset. "Cheer up Chris, I'm sure it's not that bad". We headed back to the beach, which was not far. I looked up at the blue cloudless sky and closed my eyes for a second and delighted in the suns warming rays, I could feel hints of spring in the air. Chris said not a word to me. I'm sure he sensed I needed this time out, either that or he was truly worried.
We reached the cottage and went inside. I sat down on the old ratty sofa in the living room, and Chris sat on a beer cooler. "So Chris what's this all about? If you know something, please tell me..." "Look, my name is not Chris and I'm not even from around here." This is not what I wanted to hear. I tried not to show it but my heart started to beat a bit faster, I sat there waiting to see where this was going. "What the hell Chris or whatever your name is!" The surfer dude act was over and sitting in front of me was a trembling man afraid and looking lost. "You're in danger and I think I may be also. This is not what I signed up for!" Chris (or whatever his name was) was beginning to have a nervous breakdown. "Settle down, breath in, breath out...." Chris began to relax inhaling and exhaling in a controllable manner.... "OK Chris, do you feel better? (He nodded yes) What's your real name?" "Tom, Tom Fitzgerald." "Tom?" "Plain old Tom. I'm a programmer from Venice Beach, California...I was on the beach one day trying to learn how to surf, and not doing a good job of it. I couldn't stay up on the board for my life when a couple of guys came over and offered some help. We spent the rest of the day surfing and they really helped me, enough so I didn't look like a fool. We spent the night partying and having a good time- I thought I had made the greatest friends ever. That night I blacked out and awoke the next day on an aircraft carrier. I don't know how I got there but the guys I met must have drugged me and took me against my will. They began to work on me, telling me I owed my country and that my elderly parents needed my help and wouldn't it be a shame if I wasn't there to look out for them. Weeks passed, and I was being trained or brain washed for some mission." "Why you Tom, a simple programmer?" "Well, I'm not a simple programmer. I was working for Google for some years when I stumbled upon an idea for a new computer language, the one you saw me using at the Montauk. It's a unique language, very different from anything that's out there now, normal computers can't even run. Google discovered that this language I created could sink radio frequencies with light energy. Bottom line is you could send out radio messages as far away as the nearest star, which takes years, so we thought. Imagine attaching information to light... Here is where this story gets spooky; We received return replies from deep space. Google was nervous and didn't know what to do, it felt like we had discovered fire. They kept me protected for as long as they could with a constant team watching over me, moving me from secure house to house-It was a total lock down until I had had enough. I decided to sneak away and be normal just for a day, and that's when they got me. The military must have been onto me since my discovery and were waiting for the perfect opportunity to snatch me up-next thing I know I'm on a big ship"
Tom, as I now knew him, fidgeted a little bit, still very uncomfortable, kept looking at the front door but continued..." Those return signals from deep space were picked up at the Brookhaven National Lab in Upton, with the strongest signals being traced to Montauk. That's why I'm out here. It wasn't easy but I convinced them I needed to be in Montauk, out and about tracking the signal as a un-suspecting person, so surfer dude was born." "Tom what are you saying?" "I'm not sure. The military believes the person you're looking for may be an antenna of sorts for these signals or even something else. They haven't found him yet, that's why you're still alive-maybe you're their bait to flush him out." I wasn't buying his story, "Really Tom? A surfer dude? That makes no sense. Why would they risk you like that?" "Look, I don't know but I do know we're in deep, deep trouble. I can only play this game for so long before they decide to lock me up for good! I'm only telling you because I want out! I'm done with them and to hell with Montauk! I just want to go back home...please help me!"
Tom was right; We were in trouble, deep trouble as he put it. My every move was being tracked no doubt about it. I suspect people like Tom and I are pawns in their high stakes game and once they're done with us we simply cease to exist. I needed to formulate some plan with Tom. Could I even trust him? What if he is lying to me? In any event I had no choice but to trust him for the moment. "First thing first Tom; Are we safe here?" "No" " Who is your contact and where are they stationed?" " They always contact me and they are everywhere, Westhampton, Camp Hero and some other secret bases. They can be disguised as anybody: a simple deli clerk, a police officer, homeless man- you never know who could be one of them! When they need to debrief me they usually swarm where ever I am, knock me out and drag me to some undisclosed location. I'm there for days on end until I convince them I need to be out there to do my work. All I can say is trust nobody". "Tom, what can you tell me about some of the people I have met out here like Marcus, Elijah and Devon....can you tell me anything about them?" "Marcus is a local thug. He doesn't even know he's being used, he'll hurt you physically but that's all, you don't need to worry about him. Now Devon is a rat weasel. A complete mole planted at the Manor and secretly controls all of Montauk-He's their logistics guy. He is about as devious as they get. He was my first contact here in Montauk and a real scoundrel. Best stay away from him and the Manor " "Trust me Tom, I never want to see him again..." "Elijah, that's a curious one. I know of an Elijah, homeless man, real town staple but he passed away a couple of years ago. Could be someone else whom I don't know..."
"So you don't know Elijah... I also had a run in with your people, specifically a Colonel, Colonel Harris. Strangely he was tracking a mystery woman I was trying to meet." "Colonel Harris is running the show out here. You meeting him must mean they think you know something. Harris is a gambler. He'll toy with you depending on his mood. He sort of plays god deciding who lives and dies, a real psychopath if you ask me..." "I had a strange encounter with Harris at the Manor. He drugged me somehow, time seemed to stand still and then told me to get out of Montauk..." "Had you left Montauk your use would have been over and you would have died in some staged car accident-No one meets Colonel Harris and lives to tell the tale. Harris is part of the darkest opts in the CIA and Air Force. Nobody is suppose to know who he is, and now you can I.D. him, my god it's worse than I thought. We need to get out of here!
"No Tom, that won't work, they'll just find us." I sat back, numbed- my eyes went blank. What did I get myself involved in. "Tom, this is a bit much for me, please leave me alone for a little bit to think this over..." I laid back on the sofa, focused on the sound of the waves crashing rhythmically on the surf. I breathed in the salt air that permeated the old cottage, I asked Tom if there was anything to drink in the place and he handed me a bottle of Jack Daniels- I guzzled back enough to make me cough uncontrollably. It did its job and I fell fast asleep. I dreamed of the mystery woman looking out to the sea, of Brad McCallaster walking into that cold black ocean. I saw Harris laughing as he staged his so called "accidents" and Elijah pointing to a newspaper with a headline reading "Homeless Drunk hit by Car." I awoke sweating heavily, panting. I looked around and saw Tom relaxed starring out at the ocean. Then it struck me like a lighting bolt: An uplifting surge went through me-I felt like Evel Knievel on a motorcycle facing a 100 foot tall ramp revving the engine. Evel must have known he was going to break every bone in his body, possibly even die if he attempted the jump but then the adrenaline rush would set in, he would smile, rev that engine pop it into gear and take off into eternity. I called Tom over who was still starring out the window....
"Tom-There's one thing I learned in life; The system crushes those that play by the rules. Let's not play their game. Even the little guys can take out the big guys when they don't play fair and employ guerrilla tactics. Another thing I learned is don't make it easy for your opponent-they'll take the candy from the baby any day over having to work for it. One thing they forgot to calculate about me: I was already dead when they marked me- I should have died by my own hand on that cold Montauk night. Their fear tactics have zero effect on me, time to turn the tables on Goliath. They also haven't found the Montauk Man. I think we need to find him before they do, it's our only chance, you with me?" Tom looked at me, seemingly like a transformed man and said, "I'm with you..."
