The Nephilim Protocol

by Stuart Killbourn

  Colonel Hardy had the map out, the lie of the land was checked, the route plotted and directions given. The expected time of arrival at the orphanage was sixteen minutes. Gary gazed at the flat arid land that had become familiar during his previous visit. He thought of Nito and his grating music. He recalled the frightening ride with Escobar and his witchdoctor claims. Back in Mozambique his soul was overwhelmed by the premonition of violence and bloodshed. Gary prayed.

  Shortly before they reached the orphanage compound, Gary leaned forward and reminded Colonel Hardy, “Remember, don't massacre the orphans.” Colonel Hardy grimaced.

  “Don't worry, Sanders. So long as they're unarmed, they'll be safe.”

  “You sure about that?” Gary's tone was sarcastic.

  The Jeep topped a small rise and the orphanage came into view. The exchange was cut short. The Humvee bringing up the rear stopped and blocked the road behind. The rest of the convoy sped into the courtyard. The arrival of Jeeps and Humvees brought shouting children from their classrooms. Their teachers screamed for the children to remain inside but in vain. When the armoured cars skidded to a halt they were surrounded by milling children, wide-eyed and laughing. The hardened marines were nervous. They were bogged down in this quagmire of innocence, caught in a confined area with little cover. If there were gunmen in the dormitory buildings, there would be no chance of escape. The presence of the children was no guarantee of safety – there were far too many horror stories of African conflicts to entertain that notion.

  Gary spotted Lily, the Filipina nurse ran frantic in the crowd of children. Gary dismounted the Jeep and pushed toward her. “Where is Doctor Campbell?” Lily was dismayed and did not recognise Gary from their previous meeting.

  “What in God's name is going on?” demanded Lily furious with the soldiers and panicking for the sake of the children. Gary remembered that she considered the children just as her very own. He admired her for that and, like any mother, she would do anything to defend her children. Gary forced his way through to her.

  “Where is Doctor Campbell?”

  “You?” cried Lily. “Are you responsible for this disturbance?” Lily had recognised Gary and he felt a twang of guilt for having deceived her during his first visit – but surely she was not as innocent as all that. She must know what was going on.

  “Where is Doctor Campbell?” This time Gary took Lily by the shoulders and forced her to answer.

  “He's in the garden.” Lily pointed across the courtyard. “Now let go of me and get your soldiers out of here. This is an orphanage – a refuge and a place of safety. Get out – all of you.” Gary barely heard her as he turned and directed Colonel Hardy to the garden. During his tour, Gary had not visited the garden – but he could see a pavilion roof woven together from reeds where a man wearing a white suit and wide-brimmed hat was sitting with his back to the disturbance. Gary led the marines through the flower beds and bushes. They surrounded the pavilion with rifles aimed at the seated man. Gary indicated to Colonel Hardy that this was the target – they had cornered Doctor Campbell. Another man was also sitting in the pavilion – apparently a guest. They were drinking tea together. The guest was Chinese and dressed in a finely tailored cream-coloured suit. He had a shocked expression and seemed horrified by the arrival of the soldiers. Doctor Campbell seemed unconcerned. Gary was unsure what to say and Colonel Hardy seemed to be waiting for him to take the lead.

  “I must apologise Ambassador Chen, it seems the Americans have arrived.”

  “Ah, so it appears.”

  “You must excuse them for making so much noise. They have excited the children and disrupted their lessons. I will have to deal with this situation. I trust that will not affect the understanding we have reached. Miss Wu will escort back to your car.” With that Doctor Campbell bowed deferentially to the ambassador who bowed in return. A young Chinese girl appeared – Gary remembered her name was Celia and they had previously played chess. Her approach had been undetected and Colonel Hardy and his men exchanged nervous glances. Celia was wearing a beautiful silver and white dress of Chinese design in stark contrast to the marines’ desert camouflage.

  “I understand completely, Doctor Campbell. Perhaps, next time we will have time to complete our game of chess.” The ambassador and Celia walked gracefully from the garden.

  “Gary Sanders? Isn't that your name?” Doctor Campbell turned and confronted Gary. He ignored the soldiers.

  “Doctor Campbell, we are going to search your compound and detain you for questioning. If you do not cooperate, these men have orders to shoot you.”

  “I must insist that you and your men leave my home immediately and return to your ships. The Government of Mozambique does not tolerate this infringement on its sovereignty.”

  “You do not speak for Mozambique, Doctor Campbell.”

  “Perhaps not but then neither do you. But be assured, the people of Mozambique will not accept American soldiers on their soil – uninvited. The brutal assault on a loyal civil servant is already posted on the internet and has been sent to every news agency the world over.” Gary had no reason to doubt this. The reception at the beach had been carefully staged as a media master stroke. Gary knew it. They had walked right into a global embarrassment.

  “Your facility will be searched Doctor Campbell. We will find the evidence we need to justify our actions.”

  “I can't imagine what evidence you might hope to find. Perhaps you brought some of your own?”

  “You're guilty of serious crimes against humanity, Doctor Campbell.”

  “I'm guilty of looking after my children, Mister Sanders. I run an orphanage and provide medical assistance to those who need it. Has the world changed so much that this has become a crime?”

  Gary did not like where the argument was going especially since he was powerless to make convincing accusations without hard evidence. Evidence that he sincerely believed they would find – sooner or later. The presence of the Chinese Ambassador was very awkward. How the hell no one clocked his arrival frustrated Gary – and he would not be the only one. They needed time. Time to search every hole – every possible hiding place – for a reactor; for an array of centrifuges to enrich uranium, and for warheads. Time was running out and when the world woke up to this operation, the pressure to quit would be immense.

  “Where is the uranium? Where do you horde it?” demanded Gary.

  “What uranium are you talking about?”

  “We'll find it soon enough.”

  “I think you had better leave and return to your ships. Again, I repeat that the Government of Mozambique will not tolerate your presence. And neither will the rest of the world.”

  “Where is the uranium? If you tell us now, it will go easier for you.” Gary was bluffing. It was an interrogation line he had learnt from the CIA agents.

  “Uranium? Did you come here to rob Mozambique of her rightful resources?”

  “No, Doctor Campbell, I have come to make the world a safer place.”

  Doctor Campbell smiled. He looked distastefully at the soldiers and guns. He switched from speaking English to Portuguese. “I see I have no choice but to tell you? I have no other move.” Gary felt huge trepidation. Either this was another trick – an ironic deception – or he was about to learn the location of what they had come to look for. Doctor Campbell spoke quietly, “Well then, the uranium … you will find … is in a mine, five miles north of here.” Doctor Campbell sat down in the pavilion. He looked shaken and his confidence had been stripped.

  Gary turned pale. He looked round at the soldiers beside him, they were unmoved. Gary was fairly certain that not one of them could speak Portuguese. Assuming they had even heard, they could not have understood. He alone knew what Doctor Campbell had just uttered. If this was going to be another PR disaster, it was on his neck that the axe would fall. But Gary felt obliged to follow the lead.

  “Five miles north, Colonel Hardy – in a mine. You are probably looking for a large opencast
mining operation.”

  “Are you sure?” Colonel Hardy left his men surrounding Doctor Campbell and walked with Gary back to the vehicles. Only Riley followed.

  “Yes, I'm sure. It may be a trap. I don't know.”

  Back at the Jeep, Colonel Hardy radioed other units to the target location. Maps and satellite images were checked and the only possible place was identified. They extracted the Jeep from among the children and headed off.

  Over the radio, they heard a lot of chatter. The politicians in Washington had been woken from their beds and shown the internet clips. American soldiers were invading an impoverished, third-world country for undeclared purposes. Questions were being asked. Speculation was rife. Marines were distracted. The day was going badly. At least there were no dead bodies. Not as yet.

  The drive to the open cast mine was uneventful. The roar of the Jeep and accompanying Humvee were somewhat at odds with the tranquil expanse of the savannah. The drive felt like more like a road trip than an invasion. The mine was marked by a heap of rock and dust that had been dug from the ground by enormous machinery. There was no mistaking it. The driver circled the escarpment and finally drove down the ramp that spiralled round the perimeter to the bottom of the pit. There were only a few workers about who scattered at the approach of the soldiers and the sight of guns. The soldiers disembarked from the Humvee and started searching the tin shacks that served as offices. The soldiers shook their heads – they had found nothing. A sergeant, though, man-handled one of the mine workers he had discovered cowering under a desk and brought him before Colonel Hardy and Gary. Colonel Hardy plied him with questions but the man remained silent kneeling before them with a stupid, uncomprehending look on his face.

  Frustration rose in Gary. Time was short. There was throbbing in his head. Gary put his hand to the pain. He thought he heard two of the soldiers snigger to each other. They did not think Gary was soldier material. Gary looked at them sharply. He thought he saw a nudge and a smirk. He turned back to the kneeling worker.

  “Hurt him,” a voice urged. The pounding in his head grew stronger.

  Gary yelled in Portuguese, “Where is the uranium stored?” The man still looked abruptly petrified but he had understood this time. “Where is the metal? Heavy metal? Dull grey metal?”

  The man replied, “Very heavy metal?”

  “Yes. Where is it?” Gary lashed out and struck the man's cheek with his knee. He was sprawled in front of Gary and Colonel Hardy with one arm raised to shield himself from further blows.

  “Poison? We don't go near it.” The man shook his head.

  “Where is it?” This time Colonel Hardy stepped up and gripped the man's arm. The man struggled to get free but the Colonel held yet tighter. Gary felt resentment surge against Colonel Hardy's intervention but he checked himself. The man raised his free arm and pointed.

  “In there.”

  At the bottom of the escarpment was a rusted corrugated iron covering that partially obscured an entrance into the side of the mine. It is just big enough to drive a small car inside; too narrow for the Jeep or a Humvee. Gary approached the opening and saw that a tunnel lay beyond. His head started to clear but his gut felt empty and void. He felt cold. He had hurt the man but he could not believe the rage that had come over him. Gary had suddenly felt an urge to kill the man. Gary shook his head to clear his thoughts. His hand trembled. He focused on Colonel Hardy.

  “It could be suicide going in there.” Colonel Hardy indicated the shaft. “I can't send anyone in with you. This place is a killing ground. You've got Private Riley and that's it. When I get reinforcements, I'll send some down to you.”

  Gary collected his metal briefcase from the Jeep and entered the tunnel. Riley followed closely but with uncertainty. Both had donned radiation protection suits. In the gathering heat of the day, it was oppressive. Gary entered the tunnel. His radiation counter held out in front. The readings were normal. Inside, the temperature dropped slightly but it was still warm. Sweat dripped into Gary's mouth, he spat it out.

  The tunnel led about a hundred feet into the escarpment wall before opening out into a larger opening with a lift shaft going deeper. Gary pressed the lift call button and waited. Machinery rattled and groaned at being wakened but the lift cables jolted and pulled upwards. The lift cabin appeared. Gary and Riley both waited as it came to a stop. The doors remained closed. Gary yanked the gate aside. The lift was empty. He cautiously stepped forward and entered. Riley hesitated but, realising his duty, he followed Gary. The lift descended deep into the Earth. Gary felt isolated. He was a long way from any help from the troops above. He and Riley were on their own.

  The lift juddered as it hit the bottom of the shaft. Riley opened the gate and brandished his rifle in the poorly lit bunker they found themselves in.

  “If the lift came from down here, it stands to reason someone is down here. I doubt there is another way out.” Gary whispered the warning to Riley. Riley seemed unimpressed with Gary's logic. He kept sweeping the passageway with his sights ready to shoot if he saw anything. No one appeared. The subterranean tunnels were deserted.

  Gary and Riley crept down the tunnel hewn from solid rock. The air was stale – perhaps slightly bitter. Riley pushed his rifle forward scanning for hostiles; Gary lugged his large aluminium briefcase. Both gripped the tools of their trade tightly. Both were sweating. Neither spoke. They pad-footed into the unknown.

  The tunnel was sparsely illuminated by strip lighting along the apex. There was a clear passage down the middle – perhaps wide enough for a forklift or some such thing. Against the walls were rough wooden crates and assorted seemingly scrap metal. Gary held the radiation counter near each crate – readings hummed and surged but none were high. They continued forward.

  A shadow flitted ahead. Riley's gun snapped up and trained on the target. Gary's stomach tightened, bracing itself for a hail of lead that would shred flesh and splinter bone. Nothing came. Riley advanced with rapid, fluid motion. A cat was flushed from its hiding hole and it darted down a tunnel branching to the right. Gary breathed in relief. The cat meowed and disappeared. Gary studied the ground. He had a hunch. Faint tracks in the dusty floor evidenced traffic down the side passage. He got Riley's attention and waved right. The tunnel was short and opened into a series of steel frame and wire mesh cages. Gary approached in amazement.

  Inside the cages were stacks of metallic bullion. Instead of lustrous gold, the bricks were shiny silver – nickel plated uranium Gary suspected. There were easily several thousand bricks. The readings on his Geiger counter increased slightly as he approached. Gary pushed the door on the first cage; it was locked. Riley ushered Gary aside and struck the lock mechanism with the butt of his assault rifle. The blow was deafening as it reverberated in the tunnels like thunder. The lock yielded and eased open. Gary had already started to count the bricks mentally. There were pallets with bricks arranged eight-by-six. That made forty-eight on each pallet. The pallets were in racks three-high and Gary counted eight racks with more possibly round the corner. There were at least one thousand two hundred bricks; that would make about thirty tonnes. It was a serious amount of uranium. Gary stopped and stared, mesmerised. He flinched back to himself, knelt down and opened his briefcase. He took out his x-ray spectrometer and pressed it against a metal brick at random. He pressed the trigger. When exposed to high energy x-rays, every metal emits back a signal just like a finger print. The spectrometer could measure what metals were present and in what proportions. Gary read the result: the bricks were uranium all right. One hundred percent pure – except for a nickel plating only a few microns thick. He selected more bricks at random and got the same result. All were uranium. The question on Gary mind was what the enrichment level was. What fraction of the uranium was fissile? Another type of spectrometer would answer this question but it would take a few minutes. Gary looked around nervously. Except for Riley, no-one else was around. That seemed odd. He powered-up the mass spectrometer and inserted a small
sample cut from a brick. Gary left it running the test and walked back to Riley.

  “Did you find what you came for?”

  “Yes, I did. It's uranium. Tons of the stuff.”

  “Could they make a nuke with it?”

  “I'm not sure yet. I'll know in a moment.” Gary needed the result from the test he was running.

  “I just can't believe they let us walk right in here to find it.” Riley's throw away remark struck Gary as ominous. It was simply not credible that though hidden, the stash of uranium was so easy to find. “It wasn't even guarded. Just some mine workers crowding round hoping for cigarettes.”

  “I'm nervous as shit, Riley. You're absolutely right. It feels like a trap, but how? Anyway, we have a job to do.”

  “When we get back to the surface, do you think Colonel Hardy and others will still be there? We're out of radio contact. We might charge out the tunnel like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. There could be battalion of Mozis waiting for us.”

  “That, there may well be.” There was a kilometre of rock above them. Anything could be happening up there. “But I've got a job to do and your job, Riley, is to keep watch.” The mass spectrometer test completed and Gary went back over to check the results.

  Gary stared at the readout. The result was impossible. Gary began to process the information and make the mental analysis. The equipment had been checked immediately prior to the operation and was in full working order. He knew the kit inside out so it could not be his own error. He blinked in disbelief, took a deep breath and felt himself shake. “The world is not a safe place anymore.” His words were not directed at Riley but simply trailed out unconsciously. He needed to take a sample for further testing – an independent check. Gary picked up a brick of uranium and placed in his backpack. A second brick went into Riley's backpack. The bricks were damned heavy but they had to get them back to the lab.