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Authors: ML Banner

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Right after they built their beach house, at a party they hosted, Max shared over margaritas his concern about the coming zombie apocalypse.  He heard of a new strain of the SARs virus and was sure it would manifest itself into something far worse than reported, turning every one into brain-eating zombies.  Then, a few years ago, it was electro-magnetic-pulse or EMP bursts from nuclear bombs, blowing up in the atmosphere and taking out all electronics, computers, power supplies, etc.  Max was so sure of this, he even rebuilt his garage and a couple rooms of the house so that they had something called Faraday cages around them.  This would supposedly block out all the nasty effects of an EMP burst.  Somehow, Max even convinced Bill to do the same with one of his rooms when Lisa and Bill built an addition to their house, now their garage and office, two years ago.  They both reasoned it would be the safe thing to do for their computer equipment, especially for Sally and her needs.  At least that was the excuse he remembered using on Lisa to convince her of the need to do this.

Bill was not sure where Max made his money, but he was certain he had a lot of it.  Not only was he buying top of the line stuff, he owned the home on the double lot across the street, and he was pretty sure he owned more property elsewhere in Mexico and in the states.  Although he couldn’t remember Max actually saying this.  Even more of a mystery was Max’s past.  Bill knew that he was in the military at some point, as a chaplain, and that he actually saw some combat in Iraq.  However, Max never regaled about his military exploits, so he never asked.  The only time that Max was ever loose enough with his tongue to reveal some of the disconnected tidbits of info they had collected over the years was when Max drank a margarita or two with the Kings.  Then, like one more piece added to a giant colorful puzzle of thousands of pieces, they would understand a little more about their friend.  However, this was rare, and as far as Bill knew, Max never drank margaritas anywhere else, or any other alcohol for that matter.   Defensively when asked, he professed to love only Bill’s margaritas made in one of those Margaritaville blender/ice shaver machines he had given to Bill as a present on Bill’s 50
th
birthday. 

Only once or twice, when he was sitting out on the patio or on the beach, did he observe Max drinking a beer, never more, but he never appeared inebriated nor revealed anything new about his past to Bill or Lisa then, and certainly nothing to anyone else Max would converse with.  In fact, Max never really spoke to any of their friends about any of his past or anything personal.  Whenever asked about something even remotely personal, Max would adeptly pivot the conversation to something else.  Once Bill asked about this, and Max simply said, “I’m embarrassed talking about myself.”

It was because of their daughter Sally that Bill loved Max.  He always looked after Sally when she came down to the house, treating her as if she were his own daughter.  He respected her privacy and even when the curtains were open, he never went over unannounced, except for one happy exception.  Once, apparently, Sally was in a very loud and heated argument with her former fiancé Dylan, who thankfully she since broke up with.  From Sally’s retelling, Max pretended that he didn’t know she was there and that he came over to drop off cleaning supplies in their absence.  Opening up the front door, while knocking loudly, Max came in to find Sally’s fiancé about to make an aggressive move as if to strike her.  Acting embarrassed, Max made a point of hugging Sally, and shaking Dylan’s hand so hard that he later claimed it was broken.  She drove him back to Tucson that same day.  Later, Sally thanked Max for his intervention, and most recently for helping her to realize Dylan was a loser.

Also comforting, Bill knew that if any of the King family found themselves in trouble in Mexico, whether it was with the law, or just paying a bill for the phone or water, which could be complicated sometimes there, Max was always present to help.  Whenever any of them heaped praise on their friend, he would say, “If you can’t depend on your family, who can you depend on?” 

From his last email, Max was making another run for supplies up north for a couple of days, so they weren’t sure if they would see him until their big dinner in two days.  However, Bill suspected he would, since Max had said he had something important he wanted to talk about.  It was another Max mystery. 

“Wow, it sure is dark tonight.  Moon must be coming out later,” Bill said, squinting to see their house coming up.

“22...  24...  There it is 26 Avenita Mar De Cortez,” Sally said loudly.  “We’re home.” 

They pulled up to the dark front gate.

 

Meanwhile, onboard the GEOS-12 Environmental Satellite in geostationary orbit 22,500 miles above Hawaii, the Solar X-Ray Imager, or SXI is routinely snapping one full disk image of the sun’s atmosphere every minute.  The results are sent automatically to dozens of research facilities and universities across the world, including CMERI’s facility in Salt Lake City, Utah.  CMERI’s computers then process this along with other data from various satellites and ground based telemetry, using an algorithm developed by Dr. Carrington Reid to determine which of the 1 to 5, or more, CMEs daily generated by the sun are likely to hit the Earth, along with their severity.

 

To:  Maxwell Thompson

From: 
[email protected]

Subject: 75% Chance of Carrington-Sized CME Expected

 

BULLETIN

26 June

As we described in yesterday
’s bulletin, two large CMEs have caused above normal aurora activity in both the northern and southern hemispheres.  Auroras have been reported as far south as Wisconsin and Washington in the US, as well as multiple locations in China, India, and Russia. 

A power substation in Anchorage, Alaska was severally damaged, causing power outages to most of the city and continues up to this bulletin’s release.

Hundreds were killed in China from fires believed to be caused by the larger CME’s charged particles, which caused geomagnetic induced currents, believed to have reached more than 450 amperes, through local transmission lines, causing transformers to explode, touching off the fires.

NASA confirms that communications have been lost with the International Space Station, and have attributed the loss due to as many as three communication satellites permanently damaged from the duel CME’s.

We are tracking a CME with less intensity, which is expected to hit Earth in 18 to 30 hours from now.  There is less radiation expected, but auroras should be visible through most of the United States and as far south as Northern Mexico.

Far more worrisome; one or more CMEs of greater intensity than last night’s duel CME’s are expected in the coming days, as we have observed over a 5000% increase in sunspot and solar flare activities in the last three hours.  Radiation readings recorded by ISS prior to its loss of communications, and the Hubble were the highest in the last 100+ years, or since such recordings have been made.

From the most recent images received from the SXI telescope, and other sources, we predict as much as a 75% chance of a Carrington-sized event, or worse to hit the Earth within the next few days.

We recommend that you take precautions immediately as outlined in our free downloadable eBook,
The Solar Apocalypse Survival Guide
.

Stay tuned for additional bulletins.

For more information go to
www.CMEResearchInstitute.org
& click on “Bulletins.”

7.

Secrets Revealed

June 26
th

Rocky Point, Mexico

 

The dark of night gave way to a hint of the coming day.  A faint orange glow knelt on the edge of the horizon, separating the water from the heavens.   Soon, the sun would stand up, revealing itself fully, setting fire to the whole sky
, and this part of the Earth below.  Before noon, the temperature would already be near triple digits.  For now, it was a perfect 80 degrees.

It was the start of a new day; a play that God puts on every dawn.  His narrative by the sea is among the most me
smerizing.  The audience stirs to the sounds of His actors: the birds calling out for food, the waves washing in from the Sea of Cortez, carrying with them a light breeze and pungent briny aromas, both alive and decaying at once.  The sun, the protagonist of the show, rises slowly, taking its obeisant bow to its Creator whose hand slowly turns up the dimmer controls of the stage lights.  In every moment, the backlight of this living stage changes.  At any instant in time, it is imperceptible, but after a brief period, it becomes brighter and brighter.  It is a grand orchestra, playing a piece far more magnificent than anything Mozart could have written.  Moreover, it happens every day in front of
their
beach home.

Bill could never describe how much he relished this display.  Nothing could match the feelings that stirred within when he witnessed God’s amazing show each morning on the beach.  It was why Bill always arose before anyone else, sat in his favorite chair, poised above and behind their sea wall in between pool and sand, pointed south toward the beach.  He sat in quiet awe, coffee in hand, taking in the bounty before him, wearing a never-ending smile.

He longed for the time when this would be his every morning.  When he could sell his business and his only decision most days would be deciding whether to turn right or left on their daily beach walk. 
Perhaps in a couple more years
.

A paddle boarder glided by, breaking his mental meanderings.  His sinewy form barely visible because of the great distance created by the low tide, and Bill’s tired eyes.  The man waved and Bill waved back, not recognizing the form, and not knowing if he ever met the paddler in person.  That was the way of the beach. Everyone shared a friendly love for this magical place, welcoming to all others who shared their conjoint passion.

“Good morning, friend.”  Max’s raspy voice came from behind, startling him like an unexpected ocean wave.  He turned to see a beaming Max standing on the walkway that their properties shared with a common waist high gate.  Lisa called it their “coffee gate.”  His bearded face set with a wide grin spoke of genuine happiness, but his eyes full of worry, and deeper set wrinkles spoke of a lifetime of past worries.  Max was positioned on
his side
of the gate, holding it open with one hand and appropriately a coffee mug of his own in the other.   His mug, a gift from Lisa and Bill last Christmas, had “My other drink is a Margarita” hand painted on it.

“Come on over.  I want to show you something,” Max beckoned his best friend.

There was very little that could drag Bill away from watching the sunrise.  Max wanting to show him something was one of those.  Max prided himself on his toys, and maybe more so offering anecdotes of how he smuggled them down through Mexico without getting caught or being forced to pay a tariff.  He still called it mordida, even though the tariff payments were above board and not bribes benefiting the government officials extracting the tariff. 

“Heard you pull in late last night in Stanley,” taking a sip of coffee.  “I do want to say a quick hi to Lisa and Sally, but I’ve been dying to show you something and talk to you for a few minutes first.”

“Sure,” Bill said, now facing his friend, “They’re looking forward to seeing you too.  Maybe, you’d like to join us for breakfast.  Lisa is making chorizo and eggs.”

“Damn, I would love to, but I’ve got some business inland with Miguel.  Rain
check?”

Bill shook his head in the affirmative, “
Of course, but you get to explain this to the ladies.”  Bill followed through Max’s open patio door.  Max spun around and curiously closed the blinds behind them and then both walked through the living room, stopping to face a handcrafted, locally made, wood bookcase, positioned at an angle between the dining room and kitchen areas.  It was the showpiece of Max’s home.  Bill figured Max must have paid a fortune just to get it into the house.  So large and heavy, it took a crane to lift it over the house from the street and a large group of workers to get it through the patio and into the living room/kitchen area. 

“I’ve always loved this bookcase.  Did, you get a new art piece or book?” Bill asked, glancing over each of the shelves for something new he didn’t recognize.

Max said nothing, reached behind a book on the top shelf with his right hand and pulled something that made a clicking sound.  Then he knelt down, reaching into the bottom shelf with his left hand and once again pulled on something that also made a clicking sound.  The whole bookcase appeared to shift slightly.

“No one knows about this, not even the workers who built this house.  The few that knew of or considered its existence thought that this area is one of those safe rooms that Gringos hide in when the crap hits the fan.  But, you’ll see why the secrecy in just a moment.”

With this, Max pulled out on the right corner bookshelf molding and all six hundred pounds of bookshelf and its contents swung open like a door to reveal another regular looking door behind it.

From around his neck, Max withdrew a 3-inch metal rod with delicate silver teeth-like objects at its end and slid it into a hole in the door, just below the door handle.  He turned it clockwise until a smooth, but solid sounding lock disengaged.  He turned toward Bill, “This door looks mostly normal, but it weighs 500 pounds, because like the walls, it’s reinforced steel, making it impenetrable to everything but a tank and C4, neither of which we’re likely to ever see in Rocky Point.  However, it was procuring and installing the locking mechanism that was nearly impossible in Mexico.  These latches are masterpieces of craftsmanship.  Made of titanium, they slide up into the frame, also steel, and down three feet into the floor.  Unless you have the key, there is no way to get in.”

Max pushed the door in and they both stepped through.  A flickering neon light twinkled for less than 5 seconds and then flooded the hallway they were in with light which ended in what looked like a large unlit room.

“Now once in,” Max paused to make sure Bill was paying attention, “to make sure no one sees the doorway, you simply grab this latch on the back of the bookcase and pull in until the latches engage on the outside.  Then just push this button here to unlatch the bookcase from the inside and push it open. You’re not saying much, my friend.  Are you in shock?”

“Uh, yes, I think I am.  This really is amazing, Max.  I can’t believe how you did this without anyone else knowing.”  Bill was doing his best to take it all in.  He had been throughout Max’s house hundreds of times, and he never would have suspected the secret passageway, hall, and the long looking hallway before him, although his interest was mostly in the unlit room beyond.

“It did take a lot of mordida, but mostly it was because I used different workers from different trades, each of whom had a different job, so that no one really knew this existed.  It took loads of money, planning and patience too,” Max said as he walked past Bill and headed down the hallway to the dark room.   Motion sensors caused the lights in the room to flicker and go on in similar fashion to the  lights in the hallway.

“I cannot wait to show you my new toy.  It was damn hard to get down here.  I had to bribe one of the top dogs of both the Federales and the Ochoa drug cartel to have them close their eyes.” 

The room they walked into was very large, about the size of a two-car garage.  It was two stories high, and didn’t appear to have any outside windows.  Three of the four walls were covered in floor to ceiling shelving and wall mounted storage.   On one wall were a slick looking desk and a comfy office chair on rollers facing several flat screen monitors and other devices, their purposes Bill could not possibly guess.  The whole area looked very high-tech, something that Sally would love to see.  In the middle of the room was a large workbench, mostly clean except for something that looked like a cannon on top of it.

Bill no longer felt like he was walking on his own power.  It was as if he was watching this from somewhere else.  It was all just too incredible to believe that his friend had built this in Mexico and stored all of this under everyone’s collective noses, including Bill.  Now he was sharing this with him. 

Max didn’t wait until Bill turned his way.  “Here it is.”  He stood behind the center workbench, on which rested the largest looking gun Bill had ever seen.

“It’s a Barrett .50 Caliber sniper rifle.  It can hit a target 2600 meters away.”  Max picked it up by a handle connected to the middle top of the rifle.

“Holy Christ!  That’s like a mile away.”  Bill had already forgotten the secret passage and room, which was obviously, where Max kept a lot of supplies.  Now, he was completely focused on the monster gun.  “A little jackrabbit hunting?”  He joked.

“Ha.  Not unless you like your jackrabbits in little tiny clumps.  This is for killing someone a long way away, before he or she becomes a threat to you.  Before the Barrett, only death and taxes were sure things,” Max grinned at his quip, but then continued with purpose. 


It’s box fed.”  He detached the magazine and pulled out a bullet although Bill thought it looked like a mini missile.  “I keep these here with the rest of my ammo,” pointing to an enormous steel safe.  “All my other weapons are there as well and work on the same key I used to open the door.

“See, you just push the magazine into the rifle until it clicks and pull the hammer back and…  Velado.  This baby is ready to take out the bad-guy.”

“Max, why are you showing me all of this, and how you load your sniper rifle?  Not to mention the location of all your other guns, which I suspected you might have, and ammo and the fact that it works on the same key,” Bill asked, both puzzled and very worried.

“You’re my best friend, Bill.  If the shit hits the fan, I want you and your family to be protected.”  Max had already left the Barrett on the bench and walked around it so that he was facing Bill.  “No one knows about this room or what’s in here, except you.  Not even those I bribed know what’s here.”  Max paused a moment and then looked into Bill’s eyes.

“Bill, if something happens to me, I want to make sure that you have access to this place.”

“Max, first, nothing is going to happen to you.  Second, even if it did, none of this would help me without your magic k-” Bill stopped and looked down as Max had already thrust that same key in his hand. 

“This is yours.  There is a lanyard on it so that you can put it around your neck.  I have my own.  Do not lose this.  Promise me, you will keep it with you at all times whenever you are in Mexico.”

“Okaaaay.”  That’s all Bill could say as he was still processing all that he was been told, trying to figure out what this meant.

“Promise me, Bill.”

“Okay Max…  I…I promise”

“And do not tell anyone, not even Lisa what is here.  You can tell her that you have a key to my house, which of course, works all the doors as well, but do not tell her about this room.  No one must know, unless of course, you need what’s here.  I’ll leave that decision to you.”

“One more thing,” Max continued, “in the event of my death, I have left the LLC that owns the house to transfer to you and Lisa.  Of course, as you know, like with your home, a Mexican bank trust owns the house, but you would essentially own it.  I would also leave you some additional assets to make sure you can keep the place up.  It’s a bit expensive to run.  Here is a business card to my notario who has all the details.”

“I’m really starting to freak out here.  Why all this?  Why are you telling me this now?  Are you ill?”  Bills eyes were wide and full of concern.  He still held the key outward in his hand, with the lanyard dangling down.

“Is that all you can say, my friend, after I told you I’m giving you all of my toys?  Fine, maybe Clydes
ton,” Max pointed towards his neighbor to the East of him, “would like my house.  It has a bitching sound system.  Isn’t that how the young people say it?”

“Stop the bullshit, Max.  What’s going on?  You know, I love you as a brother.  Why are you doing this, really?”  Bill thrust his right hand, which was holding the key at Max, poking him in the chest with it.

“Okay, maybe bullshit is the correct term.  Maybe I believe my own bullshit now.  I’m just worried that the shit
will
hit the fan, and maybe very soon.  There are just so many things going wrong for America and for the world right now.  Call me paranoid, and I’m probably wrong, but I also realize that you, Lisa, and your family are my family.  If something ever does happen, you get your ass down here and into my house.  You’ll be as safe as you can be.  Besides, I just needed to be able to tell you about this.  I’ve held this secret for so long, I felt like I was going to burst.  I have no family, other than an ex-wife, who doesn’t want anything to do with me and who is now married to a plastic surgeon.  Again, you are my family.  You are my best friend, my brother.”  Max paused again to make sure he was getting through to him.

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