The Cassandra Conspiracy Read Online Free

three-foot-high stonewall, stood the cemetery. Less a bulwark than a symbolic boundary line, the wall delineated the world of the living from that of the dead. Gravestones dating back to the mid-seventeen hundreds stood in a pattern long ago sacrificed in favor of the best use of the limited space. Some were quite large, commensurate with their owner’s pocketbooks, while others were more modest. Most of the headstones were chiseled from granite brought from local quarries. The names of the dearly departed along with the dates of their passage on earth were etched deeply into the stone–as if the depth of the inscription could somehow reflect the family’s pain.
    On the older stones, the weather and the ravages of time had tried feebly to erase the records of birth and death. Here the inscriptions almost blended into the face of the stone. On the newer stones, the names of the deceased stood in stark contrast to the chalky white face of the stone. Engraved on a highly polished black marble stone was the name “John Grant” followed by the dates “September 22, 1956, to August 31, 1957.”

Part One
    CHAPTER 1
     
    September 25
    The chauffeur-driven Cadillac limousine slowed almost to a stop outside the tall, black wrought-iron gate. A complex steel framework, hidden underground, firmly secured three motorized retractable steel pylons in such a manner that anyone attempting to ram their way through the gate in anything short of a tractor trailer would never make it. After terrorists ran the security gauntlet at the Beirut Marine barracks in a truck laden with explosives, security became an issue in the nation’s capital. To protect against such an attack, large concrete “planters” stood along the entrances to key government installations. The White House Complex was no exception.
    Originally, the Secret Service’s Technical Security Division’s plan for enhanced security had excluded vehicle barriers. But right after the new intrusion detection system went operational, a borderline paranoid schizophrenic, cloaked in a dynamite -laden vest, crashed through the gates. Luckily, then-President Ford was not there at the time of the incident. Not faced with an imminent threat to the life of the President, the Secret Service brought in skilled hostage negotiators. As a result, the would-be assassin lived. He was subsequently arrested and given a lengthy vacation at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital, Washington’s leading mental institution. Nonetheless, the need for sophisticated vehicle barriers had become apparent.
    As the Cadillac drew to a stop, two members of the United States Secret Service’s Uniformed Division approached the car. The vehicle and its occupants had reached the first of two concentric circles protecting the President of the United States. The most visible are the men and women of the Uniformed Division; the plainclothes agents who surround the President make up the second, inner circle.
    “Sir, may I see your pass?” the officer requested politely. Looking beyond the driver and into the rear seat, he recognized the distinguished visitor from previous visits. Still, there was no guarantee that the well -dressed man in the back of the limousine still possessed valid access to the Complex. The passenger pressed the “down” button, lowering his window. Through it, he handed the Uniformed Division officer his White House pass.
    The Complex had recently upgraded its electronic access control system. Until recently, the uniformed security personnel had to match the wearer to the photograph on the ID card, an approach with a few too many holes. There was always the chance that someone could counterfeit a badge or substitute a picture on the genuine article. The old system had been tested by the Secret Service and failed once too often. The new system was based on computer verification, and unlike people, the computers weren’t subject to a bad day.
    The UD officer took the pass and gave it a quick once