TAYLOR JONES SAYS: In Dan Arrow and the Three-Headed Ophidian by Edward S Baker, Dan Arrow is still chasing aliens from the New World Order. In this episode, Dan has to sneak into the Bohemian Grove where a meeting is being held on the alien’s cloning technology, whereby older humans can be transferred into younger clones of themselves. The case then takes Dan and FBI Special Agent Mack Smith to the South Pole where Hitler, recently transferred to a new clone, and the alien queen are hiding. But every time Dan thinks he’s winning, the aliens come up with something new. It’s like decapitating the multi-headed hydra from mythology. Every time he cuts off one head, two more replace it. Will he ever finally defeat the New World Order and the aliens invading Earth, or will he die in the attempt?

As well written, fascinating, and thrilling at the first two books, you won’t want to miss all of Dan’s new misadventures. A really great read.

REGAN MURPHY SAYS: Dan Arrow and the Three-Headed Ophidian by Edward S Baker is the story of FBI Special Agent Dan Arrow, his wife Mona, and their alien-human hybrid child Stella in their fight against the aliens and criminals trying to take over the Earth. Teaming up with FBI Special Agent Max Smith and the friendly alien from Ummo, Waam, to destroy Hitler, who has been reborn into a new clone, and the reptilian alien queen, Dan travels the globe trying to apprehend the bad guys. But the bad guys always seem to be one step ahead of him. From the Bohemian Grove in California to a secret hideaway in the South Pole, Dan struggles to outsmart the aliens trying to enslave and/or destroy mankind. But with the aliens’ advanced technology, he runs the risk of being found out before his mission is complete. Can Dan stop the aliens and return home safely to his wife and child, or is he doomed to end up in the alien feeding tanks?

Combining science fiction, mystery, suspense, and a hint of romance, Dan Arrow and the Three-Headed Ophidian is a fun and exciting ride you won’t be able to put down. A real page turner.

Prologue

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Dan Arrow. I was working as a private detective in DC when a client asked me to find her husband’s killer. During my investigation, I found aliens living and working with New World Order forces in underground facilities all over the United States. The long and short of it is that I discovered that my client’s husband wasn’t really dead. Through alien technology, he had been moved from his body into the body of an eighty-year-old woman!

In the process of investigating the alleged murder, my ex-girlfriend Mona was kidnapped and artificially inseminated by a reptilian. Before we could abort the hybrid baby, the reptilians removed it from her and placed it into an artificial growth chamber. Disguised as NWO Interrogators, Mona and I traveled to the moon, where we found the child, and eventually brought it back to Earth.

The root of the story, however, is that the New World Order had been planning to reduce the population of the Earth and then share its habitable surface with reptilians from the planet Draco. The NWO had been using alien migration technology to keep its leader alive for almost seventy years, moving him from one short-lived body to another while alien scientists perfected the process of cloning humans so that selected individuals could live forever through migration.

But I managed to blow up the flying saucer that carried the NWO leader in his new body, thus thwarting the imminent takeover of the Earth. Later, Mona’s boss, an FBI official, convinced us to move to a rural community where more than two hundred alien-human hybrids and their families were living. So we did that, and settled in to raise little Stella in the human culture. All’s well that ends well, right? Well, not exactly…

Chapter 1

Mona was upstairs putting Stella into bed when her boss, Special Agent Mack Smith, called me on my cell phone. I had a feeling that it wasn’t a social call.

“Dan, can we talk?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, “Mona is upstairs with Stella. It’s been a long day. We finally finished unpacking our stuff and dragging the empty boxes out to the curb, so we’re planning to turn in early.”

“Then it’s good that I caught you,” he replied.

“What’s up?”

“I’m going to send you a link to a YouTube video that has gone viral. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

“Can you clue me in?”

“It’s a guy who is promoting being born again.”

“Another fundamentalist preacher?”

“No, he claims to be a scientist who has developed a process that enables people to live forever by cloning their bodies and moving them into their clones as their own bodies age. He claims that his invention will bring about a new world where death no longer exists.”

“That sounds a lot like the Draconian migration process, Mack.”

“Yeah, and the New World Order,” Mack replied. “But you gotta see the guy in the video, Dan.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s Hitler!”

“Couldn’t be!” I replied. “You were there when we blew him and Commissar Nargas to Hell with Waam’s latest plasma weaponry.”

“That’s why I want you to check out the YouTube video. I swear it looks just like him. And you can’t dismiss the fact that he’s promoting migration.”

“Okay, send me the link and I’ll take a look at it.”

“I already have. It’s waiting for you in your email. Give my regards to Mona.” He hung up.

I knew better than to open that email, especially when I should have been slipping under the covers with Mona, but I did anyway. The link that Mack had sent me started on its own. Its title, You CAN Be Born Again, sounded like an info commercial for some fundamentalist church, so I paused the video, opened my browser, and searched the title on Snopes. Snopes said it wasn’t a hoax. So, I tried again on Hoax Busters. Nope, it wasn’t listed a hoax.

I figured that Mona could wait a couple of more minutes for me to come to bed, so I hit the play arrow on the video. As I did, I noticed that this video had already been viewed some 2,300,000 times, give or take a few hundred thousand. I put my buds into my ears and settled back to watch.

I knew I was getting into some deep shit when the first thing to appear on the screen was that all too familiar Nazi-like phoenix, gripping the globe in its talons. It was the New World Order logo. Below it were swirling letters which, one by one, fell neatly into place: A New World Production. “Aw fuck,” I muttered.

A scene from some movie that I remembered seeing as a kid appeared on the screen. It was Jesus in a robe talking to a bunch of followers. “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

A male narrator then said, “God wanted us all to live forever, but it was up to us to figure out how to do it. So, how do you become born again?” The picture switched to an elderly Catholic priest. “For two thousand years, priests have been telling us that we must die and then be born again in the Kingdom of Heaven. Frankly, that isn’t what Jesus meant at all.”

The picture then switched to Jimmy Swaggart, covered in sweat, with his mouth open and his finger pointed into the air.

“Fundamentalist preachers have been telling us that we must be born again in this body by receiving Jesus and being saved.”

The picture changed to a woman who was dancing and singing with three snakes in her outstretched hands.

“Jesus didn’t want us babbling in tongues and fainting when the spirit enters us. Jesus didn’t want us dancing with snakes, either.”

The picture switched to a golden statue of the Buddha. “Buddha lectured that we must be born a thousand times, each time getting closer and closer to perfection, but only a few people ever attain Buddha’s status. That’s not a modern image of being born again, being a different person each time, sometimes a male, sometimes a female, sometimes wealthy, and sometimes in abject poverty.”

The picture changed again, this time to a Hindu meditating in the lotus position.

“The Hindus believe that only a Dvija may study their holy scriptures. A Dvija is a young male who has been born again by studying with a guru. Do you believe that only males may be born again and that females cannot be reborn?”

The picture switched to a young man in a doctor’s white lab coat. The voice of the moderator was now in sync with the young man’s moving lips.

“Hello,” he said into the camera, “For the purposes of this presentation, my name is Dr. Harold Flite, and I am here to tell you that through the miracle of modern science, you can be born again. And again, and again. In fact, you can live as long as you desire, being born each time as the male or female that you wish to be, and with full memory of every life that you have lived. Imagine what it would be like to never have to go to school again. To retain your current knowledge and skills while you add new skills each time you are reborn. To regain your youth and yet retain an adult mind. To own your property in full after a few brief years of mortgage indebtedness, knowing that it will be yours forever.”

The picture on the screen changed to a white building, surrounded by flowering trees. It was too damn perfect, I thought.

The narrator continued, “At the New World Rebirth Center in Astana, Kazakhstan, men and women like you are currently being evaluated for participation in my special rebirth program.” The picture showed a woman undergoing a medical examination. “Selection for the program requires a brief medical exam, including parental medical history, and a DNA analysis. Those selected will donate a few hairs and oral skin tissues that will be used to grow a cloned body, which will be ready for occupation in as few as eighteen months.”

The picture switched to a fetal body floating in a tube of liquid. I had seen bodies in tanks like these before, in the alien breeding tubes about a mile beneath the runway at the Denver airport. “Prior to the cloning process, selection of gender, hair and eye color, height, and body shape, all achieved through DNA augmentation, will enable you to create the perfect you for the next sixty years of living.”

The picture changed to a map of the globe, rotating on its axis. Posted in red and gold above it, glowed the message Rebirth Centers Opening Soon Near You. As the globe turned, yellow stars appeared, one each in London, New York City, Rio, Los Angeles, Melbourne, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Moscow, New Delhi, Cape Town, Cairo, Dubai, and Berlin. I counted thirteen, plus the one in Astana.

The screen then displayed a URL address where you could get further information, if you were interested in being born again. I found a ballpoint pen and jotted it down onto my palm. They could have made it a hyperlink, but they didn’t. Go figure. I could have written on a piece of paper, but I didn’t. Go figure, again.

When the video ended, I typed the URL into my browser and found the web site. It bore the same NWO symbol and displayed pictures of the interior of the New World Rebirth Center in Astana. The machine in the picture of the migration lab looked different from the unit that the NWO used at Livermore when they attempted to migrate Hitler into a new body, but technology advances, and the new unit had a more professional look. It had to be the same thing, though—an NWO electromechanical wolf in sheep’s clothing. And Dr. Harold Flite certainly looked exactly like Hitler. “What the fuck are they up to?” I muttered to myself.

I shut down the computer and climbed the stairs to bed, checking on Stella before bothering Mona. Little Stella lay in her crib, breathing rhythmically with a slight snore. She gets that from Mona. I pulled her thumb out of her mouth and adjusted her pink blanket. She stopped snoring but didn’t stir. Sometimes life is good, huh!

As I pulled back the covers to climb into bed with Mona, she pulled violently on the covers and complained, “Jesus H., Danny, you’re letting in all the cold air!”

I don’t think Mona was awake. That’s just how she is. I chuckled at my predicament, laid down on the third of the mattress that was allotted to my side of the bed, and fell asleep. Sort of.

I didn’t sleep too well. In fact, I tossed and turned a lot as my mind kept replaying Hitler’s death in Commissar Nargas’s tureen near Mars. Waam and I had actually watched that tureen explode as it fell into the sun. So, then, who the hell was this dude who looked just like the newly migrated Hitler? And, what was with this web site where he was selling people opportunities to migrate into clones of themselves? How much was he charging? Who were his customers? What did his selection process consist of? How was this program tied to the NWO’s agenda? There was no doubt that Mack was wondering the same sorts of things, and he’d be bugging me about it in the morning.

© 2019 by Edward S. Baker