MY COUNTRY ‘TIS OF THEE
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St. Petersburg Institute - page 2
ST. PETERSBURG INSTITUTE, St. Petersburg Tuesday, 4:00 P.M.
Nicholas Mikolev reached for the scalpel and went in again. The doctors around him marvelled at the dexterity of his fingers. The implant he was inserting was smaller than the head of a needle, invisible to CAT, MRI, and the newest most sophisticated brain scan of them all in the Russian Federation.
Nicholas had worked for years perfecting the tools and techniques he used embedding the equivalent of circuit boards in the brain. Smaller than a grain of salt, they were invisible to the naked eye. A week ago, at an international conference, his American counterparts in brain surgery scoffed “preposterous” at discoveries he had accomplished 20 years ago. Little did they know… The American military senior officer’s brain at his fingertips, was one of theirs. U.S. intelligence had already written him off as dead in the U.S.
First built in 1934, the St. Petersburg Institute was situated under water, beneath one of the oldest tributaries in St. Petersburg. Providing maximum protection, the building housed the “tzar jewels” of the former Soviet Union: Russia’s coveted ‘mind control’ technology. Like most of the nuclear facilities, the St. Petersburg Institute was camouflaged from any western satellite.
The original site was originally protected by primitive security technologies. Then in 1946, after World War II, the West woke up and realised the Russians were as equal a global threat as the Germans had been just a few years before. The Kremlin quickly moved the site, and upgraded their defences, rivalling U.S. technologies: nothing could penetrate the surface or hidden entries of the Institute. As a precaution, the Soviets implemented their newest mind imprint analyses along each corridor and entrance of the Institute. The advancement in DNA activated security impulses was the predecessor of the DNA structure it would take the Americans 30 more years to design and implement.
Nicholas turned to his team of doctors: “In the field, and in the United States, we now have the only technology in the world invisible to United States satellites and cameras, and our agents need no scalpels, and leave no fingerprints.” He rubbed his thumb and index finger together, and smiled in their eyes. The doctors returned his smile with admiration and respect. The precise procedure their female partners were performing on U.S. intelligence targets on a daily basis was right before their eyes. The excruciating madness that could be initiated from a remote sensor was inconceivable at the highest United States intelligence circles.
Nicholas’ orders in the post WWII days had been to advance the electrode plantings used in mice and rats to microscopic size, undetectable by western brain scan equipment. Fifty years later he was mapping brain waves via a hospital procedure as simple as an x-ray. To think that an x-ray on an arm or a hand could produce mapping information conducive to controlling the human brain was beyond most individuals’ comprehension, he knew. But then, the U.S. naiveté didn’t surprise him.
The U.S. had continually underestimated the brain power behind his country’s elite scientific community. He alone held the keys advancing electromagnetics technology in the name of the ‘Rodina’ for more than 50 years. The best kept secret in the world had not escaped one prisoner.
In his current work, implants weren’t necessary. “How science progressed,” he whispered, as he fingered the brain scans of two of his newest patients after his lecture with his doctors. “Yes, the Americans were ahead in their Stealth technology, their submarine silencing technique, and their fancy global positioning system (GPS),” he thought, “but when it came to brains, nothing touched St. Petersburg’s masterpiece,” tucked away in the basement of the Kremlin more than a half century ago, then moved to their present underground location in St. Petersburg after WWII.
Mapping the brain waves of individuals in 80’s 90’s, and the 21st century had hidden value: there was no risk they could be compromised in computer manipulations, infiltration or viruses. The technology required no computers, and had proven to be 100% accurate.
Controlling the behavior and minds of the United States of America’s top intelligence echelon had proven quite easy to accomplish.
WASHINGTON, D.C. TUESDAY, 8:00 A.M. EST 4:00 P.M. St. Petersburg
“Did you read the book yet?” Gene asked, entering Sarah’s office unannounced.
“Yes, I scanned it while eating my morning bowl of Cheerios.”
As he approached her desk, she grinned, “I still don’t believe it.”
Gene sighed. He had just completed twenty years at Quantico, training all U.S. intelligence operatives who had attained the highest clearance level in their respective services. Ensuring their personnel files were not logged in any intelligence database, Sarah was one of the few who had been working directly with him five years. During the time she was under his direction, he had nurtured her talents, pushing her when her intellect was at the peak of a new discovery, and reining her in when she stepped on a few toes. He never wavered in supporting her 100% in front of his peers, and the powers that be.
From the first moment she came on board, he gave her all the freedom she could ever need in challenging his theories about the security of the country, propelling her career at warp speed. Allowing her independence in thought, he had won her loyalty and respect. And this was more than enough.
Sitting in the chair across from her, he watched her fingers typing. Sarah could have been his daughter if it weren’t for the closeness in their age. He loved her like a daughter, yet admired her independence and fierce loyalty to her country. Judging her reaction on his newest book, The Cataclysmic Impact: ‘Russian beam weapons and Mind Control techniques,’ wasn’t a surprise. It only meant she was weighing the truth, and he judged she understood the drastic implications on the future security of the nation. ‘She always spoke backwards,’ he laughed inwardly, still waiting for her to look up.
“Yes you do believe it,” he finally answered smugly, when she didn’t respond. He sat upright in the chair across from her. “I know you do. Sarah, look at me.”
Sarah stopped what she was doing and looked up admiringly at her boss, prepared for a lecture. He always came in unannounced, so she was used to him watching her work.
“What did you really think,” he smiled back.
She raised her right hand, and gestured, “Gene, no one is going to believe this stuff. First of all, the Soviets are at least 10 years ahead of us in this field, if not twenty, and you know it. If our country believed Hussein couldn’t hide his nuclear weapons in the months before we first engaged in driving him out after 911, and then scuttle them out to Syria, why would this believe this? If our country was fooled in 2006 to believe Iran didn’t have the power or the will to develop a nuclear weapon in 5 years, why would anyone believe the Soviets already produced the most dangerous weapon mankind has ever known? Our deception makes no sense, and there is no logic, whatsoever.”
“I want you to read it again, Sarah” Gene responded in a more serious tone, picking up her Wall St. Journal on the table. He pretended to reread the headlines, while she contemplated his words. When he heard her sigh he continued reading, acting as if he had not heard her reaction at all.
“You are going to report on it Friday at Quantico,” he added as an afterthought, opening the paper lengthwise in front of him and patting it in the center to remove the crease, obscuring her view.