The Nephilim Protocol

by Stuart Killbourn

  “Good, you've got two hours. There's an operation in progress and it's waiting for the final authorisation.”

  “Two hours?”

  “Two hours – we want a conclusion. I'll give you some peace and quiet to get on with it.” Agent Schultz headed for the door but stopped and turned back. “Oh, I should say, none of those documents leave this office and you forget what you've read when you step outside. Understood?” Gary nodded.

  Gary laid the papers out on a clear desk and sorted them by content and type. He quickly skimmed over a few general articles about the research group. He read the doctoral thesis in some detail as well as parts of other publications that listed James Campbell as an author. The government documents were less interesting because they mostly contained safety advice on nuclear power plants – they were secret for political reasons. The allotted two hours elapsed quickly. Gary was still switching between different reports when Agent Schultz reappeared and enquired with a single word.

  “Well?”

  “I'd really like to read the whole lot in greater detail...”

  “Of course you would. I wish you had more time but I need a conclusion.”

  “James Campbell is a very bright student. He's always been top of his class and that has earned him a scholarship with one of the leading nuclear research teams in the world. Yes, James has access to nuclear warhead designs. He is basically writing the software to model the reaction ignition phase. He has access to supercomputer capacity to run the simulations to validate bomb designs. Is this information useful to Iran? Yes, absolutely. The first challenge to build a nuclear device is to enrich the fissile content of natural uranium. Next, you have to design the warhead to get a good yield – to make a big explosion, maximise destruction. Iran has been progressing enrichment technology for some time and they will soon have enough material to go to step two. It would be very embarrassing – not to mention dangerous for them – to test a device and find it didn't work. If they detonate a damp squib, I imagine Israel would launch a pre-emptive strike and Iran would lack the nuclear threat to prevent it. The type of research James is doing is vital to getting the warhead design right first time.”

  “So, if James was working for the Iranians, it would be bad news for world peace?”

  “Yes.”

  Agent Schultz indicated for Gary to leave and barely mumbled thanks or goodbye. Gary saw him pick up the phone and start to dial. Events were obviously moving along quickly.

  Gary wandered in a daze from Agent Schultz office back to the building entrance. He was escorted by a nice lady who said nothing. He had concentrated on Agent Schultz's documents for two straight hours and now, having given his verdict, he was turned loose. He wondered what the consequences of his one word conclusion would be. It was out-of-character to be so decisive. Normally, he was happier to add conditions and qualifications but he felt coerced by Agent Schultz and his new role in the investigation to simplify and condense his opinions. Yes, James Campbell was a threat to world peace. What did that mean? It struck Gary that maybe he had just signed a death warrant. That did not sit easily with his conscience. He tried to shake off these morbid thoughts.

  Gary thought of Mandy and looked forward to meeting her again. He had called her and explained that he had been obliged to attend a high-level meeting at the White House. After some initial misgivings, her resistance has softened. Gary hoped she was secretly impressed. He had apologised profusely and but failed to secure another date for dinner. Mandy was tied up with work and she was going to visit family for the weekend. He imagined wine and a fine meal at Giuseppe’s Italian Bistro – it would have to wait a bit longer. At least Mandy answered the phone and spoke to him.

  Chapter 25

  Cambridge, England

  “My cousin has an apartment in Thessaloniki. She's away for a few weeks and it's lying empty. She said I could use it if I wanted. What do you say? We could leave on Friday.” Rachel managed to deliver the proposition naturally and was quite pleased with the effect. James' face brightened.

  “Greece? That would be great. I've never been but it sounds fantastic.”

  “That's it settled.” Rachel took out her laptop and began booking tickets. “It doesn't look that expensive either. We're getting a good deal.”

  “There's just one problem.” Rachel looked up.

  “What's that?”

  “My father is coming to visit on Friday. He travels a lot giving lectures and when he's in town we always meet up,” explained James. “He wants to meet you.”

  “Your father?” Rachel was perplexed by this development yet enticed by the prospect. “He wants to meet me?”

  “Yes, very much so,” said James.

  “So you told him about me?” Rachel probed. She had not expected this. She had assumed that like most studious types he would not talk to his parents about a new girlfriend.

  “Of course.” Now James looked puzzled. “Well, anyway, I thought we might go down to London and have dinner together. There's a really nice Belgian restaurant near Soho that he likes. We can stay over and get the plane on Saturday morning. I don't need to be back 'til Wednesday.”

  “It's just a bit sudden. That's all.” Rachel began to consider the complexities and risks. On the surface, it seemed straight forward enough, but it was not part of the plan. Her mission was to take James and deliver him to the apartment in Thessaloniki. She would need to contact her handler but for the moment the trip was put back and she would agree.

  “Well, you sprung a long weekend in Greece on me!”

  “Yeah, but he's your father. That's like kinda serious...”

  “I'm a serious kinda guy. Surely you've worked that out by now, right?”

  “Okay, I'll come.” Rachel conceded and she was proud to get just the right amount of reluctance. “But no mention of girlfriend – I'm just an acquaintance, got it?”

  “It might be too late for that...”

  On the one hand, Rachel knew she had well and truly hooked James into her deception and the rest was a matter of time. She was sure he suspected nothing. Meeting his father would lead to more lies and she might get stuck. After chatting some more about literature, Rachel left earlier than usual – she needed to pack after all – no small task for a woman. Back at her apartment, she called her handler. They discussed the dinner invite and she was given the green light to go through with it. She booked two tickets to Thessaloniki for Saturday morning and texted James with the details.

  Chapter 26

  London, England

  Rachel allowed James to lead the way into the restaurant. Rachel was slightly nervous – just as much as any girl might be when about to meet her boyfriend's father. James' father was a touch gaunt and fairly well tanned. He had been abroad recently indeed. He was already seated at a table when they entered. He saw them and got up to embrace James warmly. Then he turned to Rachel who bashfully met his piercing gaze and infectious smile. There was a fuss as they sat down but then for several minutes James and his father exchanged family news. Rachel sat silently glad to be given time to watch and form opinions and a strategy for the evening. The affection of James’ father towards his son was fully evident and Rachel became aware of deep-seated envy. Her own father never expressed such feelings.

  “My dear, what is your name?” James' father abruptly turned and addressed Rachel. He held her gaze still smiling.

  “Melissa.” replied Rachel slightly stuttering. “Melissa Williams.” She had been lost in thought and had been abruptly disturbed from her thoughts. She was still unused to her assumed identity.

  “I'm pleased to meet you. Most people call me Doctor Campbell and I have become used to that so you can too – if you like.” He paused and saw agreement in Rachel face. “James has told me all about you. Well, not that much really but I believe in letting people speak for themselves. I understand you are here on holiday, from America?” His question was posed politely and his expectant look was well becoming.

  “I'
m from New York. I'm touring Europe this summer and I went up to Cambridge to see the university. I might go there to study after next year. It's a wonderful place. I was able to meet some of the staff and students. I was having a bit of a dizzy moment in the canteen when James was gentleman enough to help me out. Well we sort of hit it off and I stayed longer than intended.”

  “Cambridge is a fine institution. I am very proud of my son for being accepted. You would do well to study there.” A hint of emotion was evident in Doctor Campbell's voice when he talked about his son. Rachel was impressed because she never detected it from her own father. Doctor Campbell continued, “So you have plans to tour Europe?”

  “Next is Thessaloniki. My cousin has an empty apartment there and she's letting me stay...”

  “Ah, Thessaloniki. One of my favourite places. There is a fascinating aqueduct that supplied water from … oh, what's the mountain called?” Doctor Campbell looked frustrated. He was old enough to be slightly senile. From her research on Thessaloniki she knew the answer and was keen to prove she was not stupid.

  “Mount Chortiatis,” ventured Rachel.

  “Thank you, Melissa.” With that Doctor Campbell looked down at the menu. Rachel did the same. She had skimmed over it earlier. There were five main dishes: pork loin, rabbit, grilled tiger prawns, sea bass and chicken in cream sauce. Rachel had barely time to read it through when Doctor Campbell called the waiter over to take the order.

  “Are you ready to order, sir?”

  “Yes, I will have the tiger prawns, my son will have the rabbit and the young lady here will have the sea bass. I'd also like a bottle of the Merlot – there that one.” Rachel was taken aback that he had ordered for her. It must have been obvious – not least because she gave a whelp that she did not manage to completely suppress. She had to admit that she was going to ask for the sea bass but, nonetheless, she felt her rights had been trespassed. Doctor Campbell handed over the menu to the waiter and turned to Rachel.

  “Do you play chess, Melissa?” It was a totally random question. Where was this going?

  “I know how. I learned at school. We had a small chess club.” Rachel answered truthfully. She had indeed learned at school but had rarely played since.

  “Then you will know that in certain situations, some things are entirely predictable. Inevitable you might even say. There is only a single course of action to be taken. But you must forgive an old man. Chess is something of a family obsession for us. James' brother-in-law won the American Chess Open when he was nineteen years old.” Rachel was trying to work out what the man was meaning. A single course of action? Was that about the sea bass? Did it mean something? The sea bass was the only kosher-compliant option on the menu. Is my cover blown? I need to keep cool.

  “That's quite impressive.”

  “Chess is very instructive: there is royalty, religion, warriors and defensive positions. And there are also pawns. Ironically, games are won or lost by pawns. But sometimes pawns are expended to gain advantages.” Where was this going? Did he just call me a pawn?

  “I think I learned something about looking for opportunities and taking them.”

  The waiter brought the wine and later the food. The conversation turned to mundane things; James and his father laughed together and Rachel found it infectious. Rachel relaxed and joined in. The wine began to have an effect. The food was sumptuous. Dessert followed. From James and his father's conversation, Rachel deduced that they had once lived in Africa and worked at an orphanage. This information intrigued Rachel. There was nothing in her background information on James about Africa. She began to see a depth to James that she tried to resist knowing. She had growing reluctance to the visit to Thessaloniki and the fate that awaited James when he stepped into the apartment. In her mind it played out like a nightmare: James was lured through the door then grabbed from behind and a syringe jabbed into his neck; he struggled but slumped unconscious in less than a minute. Rachel saw herself standing back and letting it happen, helpless now to stop it. Rachel was silent and introspective suddenly. She had lost focus.

  “James, will you nip out to my car and get me my briefcase?” Doctor Campbell held out his car key. “It's parked just across the road. Thank you.” Rachel was left alone with Doctor Campbell; she suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable.

  “Melissa, how long have you worked for Mossad?” It was an abrupt and direct question which Rachel did not see coming.

  “What?” Rachel feigned confusion.

  “Mossad. How long have you worked for them?”

  “I don't know what you're talking about. And I don't care for your tone.”

  “Melissa – and I don't believe that's your real name – you hesitate to answer to it. Beneath your New York accent is an undertone of someone from Kohar Yair. Very few Americans – or any English speakers – can correctly pronounce of Mount Chortiatis. In fact, you used the Hebrew consonant kaf.” Doctor Campbell stared across the table. Rachel was put on the back foot. She began to panic. “When did Mossad recruit you?” Doctor Campbell's accusation was on target with pinpoint precision. Rachel realised the game was up. A long silence ensued. Doctor Campbell continued.

  “I will be in Beirut over the coming months. Should you wish to renew your interest in the game of chess, you would be more than welcome to pay me a visit. Please take my card. However, I must insist that you stop seeing my son.”

  Doctor Campbell placed money on the table and rose from the table and walked out. Rachel was left sitting alone holding a business card printed with an address in Beirut together with a phone number. She felt utterly miserable with the rank failure. She had lost focus but she had never imagined that James' father would prove such an adversary. How would she explain this to her handler – let alone her father?

  Chapter 27

  Washington, District of Columbia, United States of America

  At 1:26am the US Geological Service registered a modest seismic event. Combining data from several monitoring stations across the country and around the globe, the epicentre was pinpointed to the Southern Indian Ocean, near Mozambique. The signals were analysed. They were not characteristic of an earthquake. As a matter of routine, the data was relayed to the military.

  By 2:47am the US Naval Chief of Staff was woken. The seismic event coincided with the planned location of the USS Alaska – an Ohio-class nuclear submarine complete with its payload of twenty-four intercontinental ballistic missiles. The submarine was en route to the Arabian Gulf. The nature of the signals suggested a large detonation had occurred at sea – almost certainly underwater. The Naval Chief of Staff diverted an environment research vessel working around Madagascar to the area to search for evidence.

  Gary scanned quickly through the telegram report. The submarine was not due to surface to receive new orders for another two days. Communication was, of course, strictly one-way to avoid giving away the submarine's location. The navy were going berserk as Gary could well imagine. The update was more than a day old by the time Gary got to see it and the research vessel was just entering the search zone now. Gary sat with Agent Vitti to trawl through lists of more people who might be connected to nuclear enrichment. Their minds were caught up in the unfolding drama. It took effort to profile leads and suspects; who was most important to interview; what they might know, and what they might be involved in. Gary developed a points system based on likely motive and technical relevance. Agent Vitti simply read the file and went on his hunch. They compared notes, discussed and selected their short-list.

  Agent Schultz popped his head round the door. “Word just came in. They found debris from the USS Alaska. Life jackets and oil slick. No bodies.”

  The news was ominous and Agent Schultz's voice even had a tremor. Everyone knew what it implied. Someone, a nation or terrorist group as yet unidentified, had struck against America's nuclear deterrent. The lives of a hundred or so US sailors were presumed missing in action. The President was considering options. The intensity with which they
would investigate leakage of nuclear technology would be ratcheted up. Or maybe it was just a tragic and untimely accident...

  “Any confirmation of a nuclear detonation?” asked Gary.

  “Not yet,” answered Agent Schultz. “The boat is on its way to South Africa. They're going to fly water samples back to Livermore for testing. They did spot a large number of dead fish – something big went off. We just don't know what yet.”

  “Given the seismic charts, it had to be a nuke.”

  “That's rash speculation, Sanders. And strictly against protocol! Loose talk costs lives.” Agents Schultz's rebuke was half-hearted. He was regurgitating official policy.

  “I know, I know.”

  “We're all well aware of the gravity of the news,” assured Agent Vitti. “But it's not our call. We have a job to do and we have to get on with it. We have a Korean businessman to extend our hospitality to. Let's go to. Back to work.”

  Agent Vitti was right. They had to focus on the part they were assigned. Loose talk would cost lives. There was work to be done. There were plenty of suspects to interview.

  Chapter 28

  Arlington, Virginia, United States of America

  “I don't get it. How is it different?” Agent Schultz openly displayed his ignorance but in doing so he seemingly shifted the blame to Gary for not having explained it well enough. “Go through it once more.”

  “They are different isotopes,” replied Gary. “They have a different number of neutrons – a different mass – one is heavier than the other.”

  “But it's all uranium, right?”

  “Yes, chemically identical. You can't separate them using … chemicals.”

  “Why would you want to separate them?”

  “Well, only one isotope is capable of fission – the lighter one, uranium-235. If you can separate it out and get it in a pure form, say ninety percent, then you can make a bomb – a nuclear bomb.”