Lttle Rock, Arkansas
July 7, 2025
A courier beat on the door of a rundown office building that carried a similarly decrepit sign announcing the office hours of CSO Security. Next to the name was a cartoon image of a cop holding a comically large nightstick. Small letters at the bottom of the sign announced, “We don’t always walk quietly, but we ALWAYS carry a big stick!” The deliveryman did not get the humor of the statement, and from the look of the graffiti, most customers didn’t either.
After a few minutes of banging, locks clicked and a large unshaven man in an unclean t-shirt opened the door and exclaimed “Stop that beating, I ain’t buying, I ain’t paying, and I ain’t in the mood!” The courier took in the man in the doorway with a long head to toe stare, paused and appeared to make an unspoken judgement. Clearing his throat, the courier asked “Are you James MacDonald? Major James Macdonald?”
“Ain’t nobody called me major in some time, and I doubt you run in the same circles as anyone that would still call me that. But to answer your question, yes, I am James MacDonald.”
“May I see some identification sir? I have a package for you, but only if I can verify you are the Major MacDonald I am looking for.” The worker lifted a small parcel that looked a lot like an orders bag.
“Wait here, let me go get it.” Mac closed the and relocked the door with one hand while simultaneously shoving the pistol he had held concealed behind his back into his waistband with the other. He then went to retrieve his wallet.
Before returning, Mac logged onto his computer and did a search using the name and company from the id tag of the young man standing on his stoop. Finding no overt threat, Mac walked back to the door and accepted the package.
The package was, in fact, an old military orders bag, but it did not have the return address of a government agency. Instead of a return address it was simply postmarked from Nashville, Tennessee.
Opening the package Mac found an envelope written in his buddy’s unmistakable scrawl were the words:
I need your help.
It is not like Rock finding his sister in our room.
This is a backhoe and body situation.
“WTFO? What did Branch get himself into now?” Mac wondered.
Tom Branch was James’ closest friend. The two were roommates together at the US Naval Academy at Annapolis Maryland. Their antics were legendary. Tom had the stated goal of breaking every single rule possible as a midshipman without being kicked out of the Academy.
Mac was a Marine Corps legacy, and just wanted to follow in the footsteps of his family’s tradition of service and was not pleased to be branded with guilt by association as Branch’s roommate, few understood their friendship.
As much as Mac saw Branch as a troublemaker there was no question of helping. After all Amy wasn’t in the room visiting Branch that night. Rock’s sister was Mac’s one true love. Branch covered for him that night. Later when Amy was diagnosed with cancer, Tom Branch paid for her treatments when the military Tricare insurance wouldn’t. It wasn’t until after the funeral that Mac learned that the “experimental medical trial” was really his friend ensuring Amy MacDonald had the best care available. Later Mac made a point to tell Branch that no matter what he would be there for him, even if it included stealing a backhoe to help his buddy bury a body.
The envelope held both a thumb rive card and a single sheet of paper. Setting the thumb drive aside, MacDonald read the note:
Mac, if you are watching this then I am in big trouble.
Which if you read the note, you have already figured that out.
Long story short, I got to thinking about creation stories, and their similarities.
This led to archeology.
I funded a dig to find out more about the Sumerian Kings.
The details of that aren’t important except to say if my hypothesis is correct a breakthrough would lead to virtually unlimited power.
Before I left on the dig, I made several precautions in the event I was captured.
This package was to be delivered in I failed to make contact for a 72-hour period..
For now you need to know our excavation site is the temple of E-Abzuwhich in Eridu, which for you historically challenged is just south of Nasiriyah Iraq.
Help me obi wan you're my only hope!
Mac knew Nasiriyah, his first assignment after he earned his commission was in that part of Iraq as part of Task Force Tarawa in 2003.
Without hesitation, Mac inserted the tiny memory card into his laptop. As expected, it required a passcode. Knowing the personality of his friend, Mac clicked the button for a password hint.
“In another galaxy, another time, who gets choked?” appears on the screen.
Branch was very particular about his Sci Fi, and he constantly impressed on Mac that “Word usage matters”. Knowing his buddy’s propensity for unexplainable actions that only seem random, Mac looks across the room and sees a worn paperback book Star Wars: From the Adventures of Luke Skywalker that his former Academy roommate gave him as a commissioning gift. Still following his hunch from the last line of Branch’s video he cracks open to the opening line of the old novel. Sure enough, the novel begins with the words "Another galaxy, another time," rather than "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. Now to find the force choking scene where Vader kills an Imperial officer.
Going back to the computer Mac enters in the password “General Cassio Tagge”
Instead of unlocking, the computer emits the sound of the Sith lord saying “Good! ... Let the hate flow through you” the Screen changes to another password query.
This time, the screen says, “For all the Marbles, where did I keep my firing pins?”
At the Naval Academy Tom made quite a few upperclassmen and Tactical Officers upset by keeping a few AR-15 rifles in his and Mac’s dorm room. Branch’s constant research led him to find a regulation allowing “inactive” weapons to be kept for training purposes and therefore “legal” if he removed all the firing pins. Not being content to simply beat the system, Branch had to go a step further and hid the contraband firing pins in their room. Naturally, Since Midshipmen Branch suffered from early onset male pattern baldness, he did so by wrapping them in plastic and dropping them in shampoo bottles.
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With a grimace at the memory, MacDonald typed, “shampoo bottle”.
With no fanfare the computer unlocked, and James MacDonald began to learn just how deep of trouble his friend was in.
The video showed Branch sitting in his “lair” a messy workshop/loft where he tinkered and experimented with whatever new thing that stimulated his curiosity.
Nasiriyah Central Prison
Nasiriyah, Iraq
July 7, 2025
Tom Branch was hung naked by his arms in a position his Iraq captors called the “Bazoona”. His hands were bound together behind his back and his arms were then raised toward the ceiling making his shoulders extend backwards.
Tom had no idea how long he had been held in this torture session. But the “Doctor” standing before hi showed no signs of fatigue.
“Again, I must inform you that your treatment for your mental instability requires your cooperation.” The torturer says with as much emotion as ordering coffee. “You do wish to be cured, don’t you?”
“Cured, no thanks, my doctor says I have to stay away from cured meat. Don’t you know the nitrates will kill you.” Tom groaned.
The man nodded toward a guard standing by the wall. The guard jerked the rope tighter, lifting Tom to his tiptoes.
“You are a very funny man, unfortunately, I am your doctor, and do not share your sense of humor. Now let us start with your name.” The man says bending to look Tom in the eyes.
“My name is Billy Austin, I'm Twenty-Nine years old. I was born in Oklahoma; Quarter Cherokee I'm told. Don't remember Oklahoma, l Been so long since I left home. Seems like I've always been in prison, Like I've always been alone….” Tom manages to sing before letting out a painful laugh and then a gasp as his bonds tighten.
His captor clicks his tongue and shakes his head before speaking again. “Billy Austin? You see this is another sign of your illness, you are Captain Tom Branch, USMC. Formerly Signals Intelligence, before being transferred to the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency.
Officially you were discharged after writing a novel that was little more that right wing populist drivel. At least that is what the Imperialists wish us to believe. What I need is for you to tell me why your government has interest in our historical sites?”
“Captain Branch? No No! I am Captain Crunch! I am here on a humanitarian mission to ensure all the little Shia Children get the recommended daily allowance of crunch berries. I don’t know anything about ARRRG!” Tom yells after being beat across the back of his thighs with a length of wire rope.
The beating continues long after the questions ceased, and Tom lost consciousness.
Residential Area Near Nasiriyah Central Prison
Nasiriyah, Iraq
August 4, 2025
It took Mac longer than he wanted to locate Tom, and even longer to build a team and prepare to extract him. Most civilians would not be able to do either, but Mac had a couple advantages. Macdonald’s active-duty service may have started as an infantry platoon leader, but he quickly became a critical skills operator in the Marine Corps Special Operations Command. Major Macdonald was a Marine Raider and as such specialized in clandestine operations. Secondly his former roommate Captain Tom Branch was a genius. To be more precise, Tom was an extremely wealthy genius.
While working on his systems engineering degree, Midshipman Branch took a passing interest in gambling, and used the Naval Academy computer system to run statistical analysis on the shipping patterns for scratch off lottery tickets. It was one of the few times his roommate did not join in the “reindeer games” and so Tom’s solo enterprise ended up with him “winning” 4.2 million dollars in instant lottery game tickets before the Superintendent of the Academy himself informed the midshipman that participating in such activities was unseemly for a future officer and potential gentleman. Tom took hint and quietly invested his winnings and into various ideas and projects over the years finding himself with a few hundred million dollars of liquid funds and a large stock portfolio of a wide gamut of technology companies.
Even with a blank check, and the benefits of specialized training and access, it still took 3 weeks before Mac and a small strike team were near the maximum-security prison.
They had a floor-plan, but no human intelligence on Toms actual locations, so they improvised.
Warden Ibrahim al-Maliki arrived home as normal but instead of spending an evening alone with his family he found a few hooded and heavily armed militiamen. As soon as he stepped through the door and armed warrior put a gun to the back of his head while another struck his driver/bodyguard in the temple knocking him unconscious. Before he could say anything one of the intruders began speaking in Arabic
“Warden, you have been a faithful servant of Allah, and no one here wishes you misfortune. You have the fortune to be an instrument of Allah’s will. Your service is required, but that is not to say faithful service will not be rewarded.” Mac had done his research; therefore, he was able to draw parallels between Warden Ibrahim al-Maliki and another former prison warden that walked out of Bagdad Prison with four senior al-Qaida leaders. While paying lip service to the religious dogma required of them, both Wardens were secular and driven by money. When faced with a choice, Warden al-Maliki would choose the path that led to comfort and funds, especially if there was little risk.
“Inshallah” The Warden responded “Of course I will do as Allah wishes. How am to I to know his desire?”
“You have an American Officer that was caught destroying Iraqi antiquities. The Popular Mobilization Forces are interested in talking with this spy.” Mac said under his face coverings.
“The infidel is in custody; you could easily interrogate him in my prison.” The warden mumbled
“Of course we could, but you shall bring him to us.” The team member stated evenly.
“What you ask is impossible” The Warden says while shaking his head.
To which one of the team members moves his rifle toward the son of the Warden. Mac locks eyes with the warden evenly retorts. “Who is to say what is impossible, it is Jihad, therefore it is necessary. Will you do what is necessary?”
The warden nods brokenly, “Inshallah. May I ask of the reward?”
A feral look flashed in Mac’s eye “Those that follow the path shall be rewarded. Bring us what we wish, and we will leave you in peace.” With that one of the team leaders in the back of the room threw down two suitcases and motioned for al-Maliki to look inside.
Upon opening the cases and seeing them filled with Saudi Arabian Riyals and Iraqi Dinars the Wardens eyes flashed greedily. “Allah’s will be done.”
Warden’s Office
Nasiriyah Central Prison
Nasiriyah, Iraq
August 5, 2025
Warden al-Maliki sat behind his desk as Tom was lead into the office. Like most government buildings it showed wear and tear, but it was clear from its furnishings that the warden desired luxury,
Two guards held branch up, as he was still suffering from injuries received during his “treatment” a third guard stood behind the trio and held a truncheon in his hands.
The warden motioned for the prisoner to sit.
After Tom painfully and carefully complied the warden dismissed the guards to step outside.
Once alone the warden pushed over a folded note to the edge of the desk, motioned for Tom to take it and said “It is my duty as warden to ensure the treatments of my prisoners ensure they are properly educated so that they may return to the service of Allah. You were brought here so that I may ascertain the status of your rehabilitation.” He then pointed a finger upwards and then touched his ear to signal that they were being listened to. The Warden then watched Tom closely as he read the note.
I brought more than a backhoe.
I brought a construction crew.
Working on getting the proper permits now.
Tom motioned toward the golden pen siting in an expensive looking case. The warden nodded and Tom wrote in large letters:
How Much $?
Tom tossed the note toward the warden as he said “Warden, I assure you that your doctor has been very effectively treating my condition, my only concern is for the miscommunication. I was not desecrating historical objects; I was merely trying to bring the history of your country into the public eye. If I could just see the antiquities in question, I am sure I could explain.”
The warden snorted derisively, commenting “You Americans, always so confident, but what you ask is impossible.”
Tom hunched his shoulders in response raising his hands and motioning toward the ancient pc sitting on the warden’s desk “Nothing is impossible for Allah.” Tom states turning the computer around and typing.
After a few seconds typing he turns the screen back towards the warden. The screen shows a money transfer site with $100,000 USD and all information except payee filled in.
The warden picked up his phone and ordered that all of prisoner Branch’s personal belongings and the contraband he was arrested with brought to his office.
Private Charter Jet
Kuwait International Airport
Kuwait City, Kuwait
August 8, 2025
“You know you make it sound so complicated Mac, but really it sounds like all you did was bribe a guy with my own money?” Branch said throwing a glass bottle of soda across the cabin of his jet.
“Don’t be an asshole Branch, you complicated the situation when you wouldn’t leave without your goody bag. What is all this stuff anyway?” Mac said motioning with the bottle before cracking the top with a key he carried around his neck.
“42” Branch said pulling the leather satchel closer in a very protective manner.
“42?” Mac rolls his eyes knowing the master level geek speak of his friend. “It can’t be the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything.”
“Oh buddy, it sure can. You’ll see, when we get back to the lair I’ll show you, but only if you promise to come on board. The ultimate question isn’t a one man show. I need you.” Branch says “But until we get back to the land of the big PX I need some sleep so quiet it down already...” With that Branch runs his arm through the sling on the satchel and crosses his arms tightly over the case and instantly starts to lightly snore leaving Mac to wonder once again what he got himself into.