M. W. Huffman
BlackStar
— But what is the greatest evil? If you are going to epitomize evil, what is it? Is it the bomb? The greatest evil that one has to fight constantly, every minute of the day until one dies, is the worse part of oneself.
OTHER BOOKS PUBLISHED BY MW HUFFMAN
THE END — BOOK I of The Event Series
THE BEGINNING — BOOK II of The Event Series
THE REVELATION — BOOK III of The Event Series
The Second Civil War — BOOK I-A Nation Divided
The Second Civil War — Book II-A Nation at War
The Second Civil War — Book III — A Nation Healing
Project BlueBolt — BOOK I — American Gulags
Project BlueBolt — BOOK II — The Gulag Journal
Project BlueBolt — BOOK III — American Uprising
REVOLUTION
THE BRINK
CLOSE PROXIMITY
BLACKSTAR
CHIMERA
WORLDS END
SUN BURST
Sins of the Fathers
The Unfinished
Angie Bartoni Case File # 1 — The Alphabet Murders
Angie Bartoni Case File # 2 — Frost Bite
Angie Bartoni Case File # 3 — Dead Aim
Angie Bartoni Case File # 4 — What Goes Around
Angie Bartoni Case File # 5 — Nothing to Lose
Angie Bartoni Case File # 6 — Shadow Man
Angie Bartoni Case File # 7 — The Club
Angie Bartoni Case File # 8 — Shakespeare Murders
Angie Bartoni Case File # 9 — One Too Many
Angie Bartoni Case File #10 — Weak Link
Angie Bartoni Case File #11 — Vanishing Act
Angie Bartoni Case File #12 — Revenge
Angie Bartoni Case File #13 — Payback
Angie Bartoni Case File #14 — Dead on Arrival
The Logan Files — Blond Deception
The Logan Files — Innocence and Avarice
The Logan Files — The Deal Breaker
The Logan Files — Pain Center
Norris Files — Silver2
Norris Files — Insurrection
BlackStar Major Characters
President: Oscar Zane Simpson (OZ)
Chief of Staff: Larry Harper
Secretary of Defense: Craig Hollister
Homeland Security Head: Raymond Eller
Assistant to Eller: Sarah Steal
Investigative Reporter: George Snapp
Dr. Robert Lake (Robert) — worked on propulsion units with element 115
Dr. Dan Barnett (Dan Crain on badge) — Majestic 12 member
EG & G Security Firm
Thomas Warren Miller — (NAVY) — STRIKE-1 TEAM
GROOM LAKE: AREA 51 also Dreamland
General Devin Base Commander over Area 51
Dr. Gimbeclass="underline" Head of BlackStar Project
Dr. Lynn YURISS: Head of Flux Propulsion
J-Rod Alien
SU — 11 Prototype
CHAPTER ONE
Until today the weather had been typical for this time of year in New Mexico. July was always dry and arid and weeks would pass without a single cloud in the sky. The lack of moisture made the stars in the night sky appear so copious that it was often difficult to differentiate the constellations. Of course you have to be careful at night if you decided to go stargazing in the desert. Nocturnal creatures such as snakes, scorpions, and an occasional coyote were always potential dangers to those who were not familiar with the New Mexico desert.
This night, however, was not typical because heavy clouds had started to roll in during the late afternoon. The small sleepy town of Roswell would roll up the sidewalks around 9:00 p.m. and all decent and respectable citizens were expected to be tucked in their homes at that hour.
James “Jimmy” Emerson was just such a person. He had gotten off work at the usual 5:00 p.m., stopped in at the only pool parlor in town and shot a few rounds with his friends. By 7:00 p.m. he was standing in the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator for something to eat.
His wife, Amy Lou, had gone to Santa Fe to help her sister recover from a gall bladder operation. She had only been gone two days and Jimmy was already tired of fending for himself. He wasn’t a big man but he could put away a fair amount of food at a meal.
He decided to drive back to the mom and pop greasy spoon on Highway 101 to get something to eat. He started up his pickup truck and left a dusty cloud as he took off out of the gate and headed for the highway.
He lived five miles off of the main road as the crow flies, down a mostly sand and gravel road. It was supposed to be all gravel but it was losing the battle to the drifting sands that would cover everything. Mother Nature still held the upper hand and always would.
The neon sign on the café said Ed and Erma’s iner. The ‘D’ had burned out long ago and they never got around to fixing it. He climbed out of the pickup and used his hat to dust off his shirt and pants before entering the café. Ed Morgan sat behind the counter, reading the weekly newspaper. The round black faced clock with pink neon numbers that was visible above his head said 7:18 p.m.
“Erma, come look at what the cat's done drug in,” he yelled to the back kitchen as Jimmy entered.
“Damn, Ed. You sure aren’t getting any better looking. How does a pretty girl like Erma stand to look at your ugly face?”
“Why darlin’, you know how to talk to a lady,” Erma said, coming through the swinging doors.
“I’m still trying to steal you away from that grumpy old fart,” Jimmy said laughing.
“Take her,” Ed said.
Erma slapped him on the back of his head. She was short with dark brown hair and eyes that looked like they were made of milk chocolate. She was obviously a good cook. You could tell by looking at Earl. Erma was pretty hefty too. She had once been a real beauty when she was in High School but time and her own good cooking had taken their toll.
“What?” he said, trying to sound innocent.
“Sit down sweetie and Erma will make you something special,” she said to Jimmy.
Jimmy plopped down on one of the stools and put his elbows on the counter.
“What ya got that's good tonight Erma?” he asked.
“We have Beef Manhattan, red beans and rice, meatloaf and mashed taters and of course our good old burgers. We had ham and beans until Ed polished them off.”
“The Beef Manhattan sounds good. I’ll have that.”
“Be right back sweetie. Sorry, but you’ll have to talk to Ed until I get back,” she said as she disappeared into the kitchen.
The diner had been around since before World War II and it looked it. Booths were situated along the front offering a view from dusty glass windows. The red topped vinyl stools would groan when someone sat down on them and tried to spin around. A pass-thru window separated the kitchen from the back counter where a large coffee machine sat along with an ancient brass cash register. It always said ‘No Sale’ no matter what Ed rang up. A two year old calendar hung on the wall next to the pass-thru.