Jasper Wells- Awakening the Warrior Read online

  Jasper Wells

  Awakening the Warrior

  S.B. Lockwood

  Old Man from Plane de Astral

  Copyright © 2020 S.B. Lockwood

  All rights reserved

  The main characters, military events, and space events portrayed in this book are fictitious to that character aka Jasper Wells. The political implications herein were derived from published accounts and have been embellished. Similarity to real persons, living or dead, is inferred and in most cases verified or claimed to be true by independent sources, references, newspaper accounts, and otherwise wide-spread reporting. No liability is assumed by the author for those published accounts which have been used to create the overall fictionalized narrative of this story.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Unless otherwise noted background strip images are

  © 123RF.com artists

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedicated to the loving light in every one of us.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Preface

  7.5.4.3.70.24.606

  Flippity Jibbits

  Middle School Sucks

  The Waiting is the Hardest Part

  Suspension of Belief

  Next Man Up

  The Mission Briefing

  A Big Decision

  Project Ricochet

  Ready To Boogie

  Things Get A Little Tight

  You Can Smell ‘Em Coming

  Friends Call Me Marty

  Chamber, Chamber, Where’s the Chamber?

  You’ll Be Saving Humanity

  It’s Go Time

  Observation Unobserved

  Get Me Outta Here

  Red Rover, Red Rover, Send Jasper On Over

  What That Was All About

  Off The Edge

  The Ol’ Grind

  Back To The Seal

  This Byrd Has Flown

  Private Jasper Wells' Adventure to His Inner Self

  Private Jasper Wells' Adventure to Inner Earth

  An Inner Earth Tour

  Fricking Dinosaurs

  Good Vibrations

  They Say It’s Your Birthday?

  Enter the Cyber War

  Hey! What The?

  Milp On The Mind

  The Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades

  Orbs In The Solar System

  Safe Keeping

  Sepulchre

  Dazzling Darkness

  The Russians

  Fizzleworks

  Night School

  Dogma

  Breakthrough

  The Code, She Is Broke

  Blue Orbs = Blue Avians

  The Message

  Confirming The SSP Via William Tompkins

  Dog Days Of Summer

  Sandy San Diego Beaches

  Olympics. Elections. Intel. New Normal.

  Back To Uncool

  Game Changer

  The Old Man’s Message

  Waterloo?

  Bows And Arrows

  Some Down Time Looking Up

  October Surprise

  Day Before the Election

  Election Rigging

  The Final Act

  The Final Act

  The Post Game

  Preface

  Many are called and few respond.

  When I completed this book by the second week of May 2017, no one could’ve imagined the covert battles behind the scenes would lead to the full-on war that’s been raging ever since November 2016.

  At this very moment, the world is living under the fear of a global pandemic and financial meltdown. These events play into the larger story. This world is going to enter a brave new world as a result of this period. It is planned to be rather incredible, if not, unbelievable. This world will be brought on thanks to the types of brave digital, physical, and quantum warriors presented in this book. This story is about the greatest covert hybrid war the world has ever known began.

  As I write this preface in March of 2020, I am humble and thankful that God has stayed by my side and delivered me to this moment to be able to deliver on my word to him. I have seen a few fall, a vast amount stay oblivious and confused, still asleep while many others have risen and really woken up. What the remainder of the year has in store for us is unfathomable. It can be filled with incredible opportunity, unimaginable disclosure if only we would believe or seek truth as the truth shall set us free.

  John 3:12 said:

  “I speak of Earthly things and you do not believe, how then can I speak of Heavenly things?”

  Well, let’s start here and pray that we end the real virus that has plagued us for millennia. Jasper Wells is going to find out about this virus. And the rest of us – if not already queued up – will also.

  Onward and upward.

  7.5.4.3.70.24.606

  “7.5.4.3.70.24.606!” Jasper Wells cried out as his thick textbook with the name Sepulchre scribbled on the front cover went sliding across the floor of the train station. He was scrambling down the platform with another student from “the Program” who he’d seen before and just met again an hour before. Right now, he’d forgotten her name due to the chaos of being chased, but she sure surprised him now by running her finger across his cheek!

  She had bright red hair and very deep dark eyes that engulfed Jasper’s stare. Hair like that would get her in all kinds of trouble from Jasper’s school for sure. She was more composed than him as she ran away ducking into a sterile, blazingly lit train car. She had wrangled herself up close to a fit-looking officer who seemed to be in his mid-40s. They stood there at the front of the seats that were molded plastic and resembled the type found on amusement park monorail trains.

  The pursuing guards didn’t want to fire any shots as it would alert the other people in the station. The people milling about in the station seemed to be there as props, and though they kept to themselves and tried to blend in, they couldn’t help but notice the group being methodically chased by the robotic guards.

  For their part, being very drained of any color, the young teens and older man, clearly, a senior officer, as well as the other two attaché stuck out like sore thumbs. It was their color and smell that made them instantly different.

  Jasper lived in Southern California and been to the “Magical Kingdom” many times. He had ridden the real monorail a lot with his father when they would spend days there as a local’s benefit with their Southern California seasonal passes. Those were fun times that were full of treats and small lines. And smiles all around.

  This monorail ride was the exact opposite of fun. There was another guard team on every stop of the monorail. And as soon as their train pulled in, they would be apprehended. This much they knew for sure.

  They were running from the authorities and it seemed like they had broken the law. In this place, the up was down and the down was up. It was the other way round for everyone that lived here. Or, perhaps better said, trapped there. The rule they broke was being themselves.

  Sure of themselves and full of dreams. Full of youth. Full of spirit. This came at odds for the others at the base that were sapped of their identity. The slaves at this Mars outpost base were hopeless in their routine. Put to work as children and given very little education, as they were told that the Ear
th wasn’t the same Earth anymore. For them, it was destroyed – uninhabitable for generations. Their only future was working in the parts assembly plant piecing together the operations screens that went into the Mars fleet ships and smaller ones that went into smart glass pads.

  That’s all Jasper could vaguely remember for the moment. He wasn’t trying to piece together the whole story he’d been dreaming about for the past five or so years. It was just that he kept having those reoccurring dreams that seemed more real than being awake.

  He thought 7.5.4.3.70.24.606 was his personal IP address. Being a kid who took to computers more than other kids his age in 2016, the numbers were given to him by the lieutenant who made him memorize them.

  The team was nearing the next station. The commander was there in a heated argument with another of their entourage who was an officer in his 50s. They were supposed to be touring the remote and secret facility as part of some sort of disclosure that would be used for a peace agreement between two Earth controlling factions. Something had obviously gone wrong and the threat of being held prisoner on this base had grimly begun to sink into everyone. It did not look good. “Shit ass,” said the lieutenant.

  The lieutenant wore a light blue colored regulation jumpsuit. As did all the adults in the party. The two kids were in grey ones. There was a handsome military branch patch on the right-hand side, and a blank spot where a Velcro-backed name patch would be on the left. A grim feeling fell over the team when they saw the interaction.

  As the train pulled into the station that had its alarm going off, Jasper could see the base commander in a fit of rage. He wore a black jumpsuit. He had lost control of the situation and it seemed like no one ever challenged his authority. Guards with some type of guns you’d only see in video games were waiting on the platform as the train pulled in.

  The doors of the train slowly opened. The adults stepped in front of the kids and pushed them back. Two guards stepped forward while others held their ground with their guns raised at the group. The pressure was intense. Jasper could feel his breath shorten and his chest tighten. Everyone seemed frozen in the moment as the doors were now completely open and the whirl of the engaged train engine silenced. The red-headed girl looked over at Jasper and her big eyes had worry mounting up in them.

  The adults in the crew stepped forward. Guns cocked and just as the first guard was reaching to grab the lieutenant, bright blue orbs of various sizes from a softball size to a pumpkin size appeared out of nowhere pulsing with energy. Popping up from the floor and from through the train station walls, they zipped in from all around with a great flash. They engulfed each of the team and in a flash were gone.

  Twelve-year-old Jasper appeared in his bedroom. The bright blue orb faded away. Sweat fell off his forehead and his legs buckled. He felt totally drained, his eyes rolled up, and he passed out into his bed with a tremendous thud.

  Flippity Jibbits

  “Ow!! Buggy Fuggerton!!” cried Jasper. His forty-five-pound dog – a French basset hound – that felt more like a rambling one-hundred-pound potato sack with very little “Frenchiness” about her, scrambled over Jasper precisely stomping on his family jewels. “Right in the flippity jibbits!” moaned Jasper.

  Flopping off the bed in their usual morning ritual was the one of the few things that Buggy Fuggerton did with any gusto. It is actually quite comical the way her three-foot-long “sausage” body could ever get its mechanics rolling enough to get into third gear. She’d been seen around the house and even spotted a few times in the neighborhood gleefully and determinedly plowing around the yards, then charging into the house through a flapping dog door, finally arriving in the living room central station by hopping up onto the couch – literally moving it five inches in the process! “Bullet train, bullet train, bullet train!” the family would yell and then laugh as Buggy did an endo headfirst into a stack of pillows.

  Other than her inexplicable “Bullet Train Express” moments, the other thing that could get Buggy excited was demanding breakfast. She would start the morning by scampering outside barely in control of her meaty paws – think of them more of the size of pig’s feet – as they seemed to be moving all at once in four different directions! Basset hounds have a condition called valgus deformity, that causes their feet to face outwardly, so even the most graceful of basset hounds will ever seem about as graceful as a wagon moving with four different sized wheels in a huck-and-jerk sorta way. But Buggy wasn’t recently adopted for Jasper to be fleet afoot but to love him and be a good protector. Buggy more than lived up to the deal by providing daily doses of comedy and a very low “Boarf” sounding bark that was very uncharacteristic of a “lady.”

  After joyfully scarfing down her breakfast, the undainty brown, white and black spotted Ms. Fuggerton could then spend large parts of the day simply sleeping completely sprawled out with her droopy eyes partially open on her favorite family couch.

  Jasper rarely woke up in the morning with any gusto. At least while school was in session. This morning, like every other, Jasper’s dad Humphry Davy had just opened the door of 12-year old Jasper’s bedroom and woke up the pair with his trademark “Jasper get up, we’re gonna be late!” Alternatively, if there was enough time in the morning and Mr. Davy got up on the sunny side of the bed, the morning call could be, “Wakey, wakey, chocolate shaky!”

  Not a man to tolerate too much dilly-dally, Mr. Davy had on more than one occasion, awakened young Jasper with a splash of water across his sleeping mess of brunette curled locks. This had been employed only once this school year, and heading into a new year and quickly the second half of the school year, seemed at good odds not to be needed again. It would likely scare Ms. Fuggerton and only anger Jasper. But, as it were, today Jasper needed to get out of bed and get a reasonable facsimile of breakfast into his gut. There was a history test today.

  Middle School Sucks

  It’s not bad enough that course work in this Leave No Child Behind post-mortem era segued into the incomprehensible Common Core confusion that leaves even Harvard educated finance managers wondering what the hell this new form of math is… To a kid who’s caught in the crosshairs of the “score high before all else” ritual, it’s a perplexing world of “Do as I say, not as I do!” Surely finding any middle school teacher who actually uses the prescribed method of borrowing and tabbing and showing their work in their own home finances would be as rare as a Yeti walking down Madison Avenue in an NRA parade.

  Middle school takes on a different narrative when going through puberty, pimples, and pretty girls who are from Venus. In the halls of Rutherford B. Haynes “Classic” Middle School, something here separated the men from boys. Literally. Young men were sprouting whiskers and donning the effervescent Lynx deodorant to mask the burgeoning “man funk.” The young women would spread rumors through Snapchat on their phones that were hidden from teachers’ eyes like the tooth fairy ferreting away incisors and canines.

  It was a spring day and Jasper had to hurry upstairs to advisory period to beat the bell and make his pledge of allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. As soon as announcements were over Jasper headed out to first period where he’d have an important math test. The school year was letting out soon and he needed to pull out a good grade on this test to get his average up to a C. Getting that C meant that he’d achieve the expected standard required by Dad and needed to take part in the summer aviation program he had been signed up for.

  Jasper yanked out his textbook from the overstuffed backpack mandated by his teachers, grabbed his notes and ran off to math class. As he slid around the bend in the hallway he had a quick flashback to the dream he had last night wherein he was running into the monorail train with his textbook in his hand. Was this some sort of deja vu or flashback?

  Math tests were open book. Good thing because Jasper needed every bit of notes to work his memory back to shape. Even his teacher Mrs. Bacardis seemed confused by some of the new common core methods. She’d joke, “Well,
I guess somebody needed to sell more textbooks.”

  He’d studied extra hard with Mom and Dad and his notes came in handy. He felt pretty good about the result and finished with a few minutes to spare. He turned in the test and was able to sit quietly while the others finished. He closed his eyes and put his head down on the table.

  For a brief moment, he felt like he was floating. He thought of the red-haired girl and the vision of his textbook also popped into his mind. The word Sepulchre oddly whispered into his ear. Buzz!! Rang the period bell and it was off to health class.

  At lunchtime the rabble of friends gathered around the lunch tables. The gamers and geeks took refuge from the hot spring sun under the shade of the canopy that covered the lunch tables. The canopy had been purchased years before by the PTA and it served the pack of preteens as their claimed territory.

  The athletic boys roamed the field and basketball courts. The socializing girls held sway over the benches that were in between the fields and the lunch table canopies. Whiffs of strawberry and other sugary fruit smells would come from the girl’s directions. Sparkling lip gloss of varying pastel shades adorned many of the young lady’s lips. The air filled with laughs and secrets.

  At the canopy, talk centered around Call of Duty and Battlefield and which one was better. “Dude! Is it even a question?” Jasper piped in. “Battlefield is lame. Unless you’re a potato.”

  Obvious to everyone was the fact the two games are first person shooters but being set in different time periods was the key separator. Battlefield is set around World War I as a gritty and realistic bloody conflict. Call of Duty: Infinite Warfare, on the other hand, takes place in the distant future after humans have set up mining outposts across the solar system. The player is the controller of the futuristic soldier fighting in outer space. Somehow, the talk of the action seemed a little more real to Jasper now and he momentarily sank into another flashback of the previous night’s dream.