Ghost protocols Thanos Kalamidas GhosT proTocols Thanos Kalamidas Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Ghost protocols Ghost protocols Thanos Kalamidas Thanos Kalamidas An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Ghost protocols North Atlantic – 0320 Hours Zulu T he sea was calm. Almost too calm. The USS Hartford , a Virginia-class attack submarine, cut silently through the dark wa- ters like a blade of vengeance. Deep below the sur- face, thirty men moved with well-rehearsed preci- sion, guided by routine and the ghosts of every bad briefing they’d ever sat through. In the belly of the boat, Commander Mace Hal- vorsen, call sign Rook, stood over the sonar station, arms crossed, frowning like the ocean owed him money. “Still nothing?” he asked. Thanos Kalamidas Petty Officer Carrow, barely old enough to rent a car, wiped sweat from his brow. “Negative, sir. Just that... anomaly again. A low-frequency pulse every ninety seconds. Doesn’t match any known prop sig- nature.” Mace leaned in. The pulse was faint, almost a whis- per, but it was steady. Deliberate. And unfamiliar. “Plot the bearing. Cross-reference it with our sat-thermal sweep from two hours ago,” he ordered. “And get me Langley.” * * * * * Langley, Virginia – CIA Headquarters A series of beeps, encrypted handshakes, and redi- rections later, the screen lit up. A woman with steel-blue eyes and an expression like she’d rather be punching someone than taking this call answered. “Halvorsen?” “Agent Nash,” he nodded. “I’ve got something. Low-freq signals repeating. Pattern’s too clean to be Ghost protocols nature. And we’re detecting null fields. Whole sec- tors of the Atlantic, no electromagnetic response. Like someone dropped a black hole underwater.” Nash’s fingers paused on her keyboard. “Not possible,” she muttered. “Tell that to the fish.” She straightened, eyes narrowing. “Stay on course. I’m coming to you. And I’m bringing him.” * * * * * CIA Black Ops Facility – Somewhere in the Swiss Alps He was already awake when she entered, cleaning a SIG Sauer with almost poetic precision. “You’re early,” he said, without looking up. “You’re late,” Nash retorted. “Mace Halvorsen found something. Something that eats EM signa- tures for breakfast.” That got his attention. He snapped the slide into place and looked up. Thanos Kalamidas Dominic Slate. CIA’s invisible man. Code name: Ash . If Slate was being called in, it meant things had gone from concerning to get the President on the god- damn line. “What’s the mission?” he asked. “Intercept and recover whatever tech’s causing this. Intel says it’s codenamed Acheron . Black project. Pos- sibly Chinese. Possibly not of this planet.” Slate raised an eyebrow. “Define possibly not of this planet .” Nash deadpanned. “I’m not joking. Neither was the Secretary of Defence when he authorized ghost-level clearance.” * * * * * North Atlantic – 0500 Hours Zulu Slate fast-roped onto the Hartford from a modified stealth chopper. The Navy crew didn’t like spooks, but they liked disappearing signal grids even less. Halvorsen met him at the hatch. Ghost protocols “You’re him,” the Commander said. Slate nodded. “And you’re lucky I like boats.” Down in the situation room, Slate studied the so- nar data and maps. “Looks like triangulated field nodes. Four points creating a zone of silence,” he said. “Only one thing could do that.” Halvorsen frowned. “Which is?” “A directed EM net. High-frequency cloaking ar- ray. Designed not just to hide...but to kill .” “What kind of weapon are we talking about?” “Think EMP meets surgical blackout. It doesn’t just cut power. It slices communication, navigation, and sensor tech. Cities become tombs. Planes fall out of the sky. Pacemakers stop.” Halvorsen whistled. “Jesus.” Slate glanced at him. “He’s not the one building it.” * * * * * Thanos Kalamidas Atlantic Grid Node Alpha – 0800 Hours Zulu The dive was surgical. Slate, Nash (who insisted on coming), and two SEALs descended toward a sub- merged platform, the source of the pulses. It wasn’t Chinese. Or Russian. It was American. Cold metal. No lights. But when Nash tapped into a port, it booted up like it had been waiting. A flicker of code spilled across her screen. Her face drained of colour. “This is DARPA code. And someone’s overwritten it with an AI signature. Look—there’s a recursive loop. It’s adapting.” Slate moved toward the central node. A small de- vice hovered in a fluid-filled column, humming soft- ly. “This isn’t a stealth weapon,” he said slowly. “It’s a neural override . It doesn’t just shut down tech. It commands it.” “What?” Nash turned. “It’s not designed to disable. It’s designed to hijack .” Ghost protocols And then the alarms started. * * * * * Above the Atlantic – 0830 Hours Zulu Two drones screamed across the sky, RQ-180s, ex- cept they weren’t in U.S. control anymore. On the Hartford , all lights went red. “Captain, we’ve lost control of guidance. Some- thing’s rerouting our course!” Halvorsen barked orders, but the sub refused to re- spond. Below, the platform’s column cracked open. The device inside pulsed once. Twice. Then vanished. “No, no, no...” Nash scrambled at her screen. “It’s gone wireless. It’s using the satellite grid to jump.” Slate’s face turned to stone. “What’s the nearest city?” “London,” Nash whispered. “Two hours.” Thanos Kalamidas * * * * * CIA Emergency Ops Center – 0900 Hours Zulu The President’s face was tight on the screen. “Options?” he barked. “None,” Nash replied. “If we EMP it, we lose satel- lites. If we chase it, it moves again. It’s a ghost in the machine now.” Slate leaned in. “There’s one option.” Everyone turned to him. “I built the prototype for this twelve years ago. DARPA scrapped it. Someone didn’t listen.” He held up a chip from his satchel. “This is the kill switch. But I have to get close. Line-of-sight. And if I use it, the feedback’ll fry everything. Including me.” Nash went pale. “You’ll die.” He shrugged. “Not the worst way I’ve gone out.” * * * * * Ghost protocols London – 1045 Hours Zulu The clouds broke over the city. Above, a small drone hovered, innocuous and silent. In the shadows of the Tower Bridge, Slate stood alone. Nash’s voice crackled in his ear. “Target’s within sixty meters. It’s already syncing to local grid. You’ve got one shot.” Slate didn’t hesitate. He stepped into the open. The drone spun toward him, recognizing its maker. He lifted the kill switch. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He pressed it. The sky went white. * * * * * Thanos Kalamidas Langley – 1200 Hours Zulu A single report slid across the President’s desk. SUBJECT: OPERATION GHOST PROTOCOLS STATUS: CONTAINED CASUALTIES: 1 FINAL NOTES: DEVICE DESTROYED. SLATE DECEASED. The President looked up at Nash. “You sure it’s over?” She hesitated. “He said it would be. He’s never been wrong.” * * * * * Somewhere in a signal-dark zone A screen flickered. A lone signal pinged once. HELLO AGAIN. Then silence. END Ghost protocols Ghost protocols Thanos Kalamidas Ovi eBook Publishing 2025 Ovi magazine Design: Thanos Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Thanos Kalamidas Thanos Kalamidas GhosT proTocols Thanos Kalamidas , a multipublished writer, cartoonist and illustrator; born and grew up in a picturesque neighbourhood on the moun- tainside of Hymettus in Athens, Greece. Then his life took him to Berlin, Germany and to London, UK for studies. After a brief stay in Yorkshire he moved his life to Paris, France while working in Tokyo, Japan and in Cape Town, South Africa. In the last 25 years he became a permanent Scandinavian resident and recently, in his glorious sixth de- cade, he moved to a scenic village in the Växjö area.