“What's happened?” While Sarah was usually candid with her frustrations, there was something particularly bitter and aggressive in this outburst.
“The bastards won't let me have my topside quota. I've never used any but they won't let me out of here. When I listened to your story I began to think of going outside – just to take a look – I was curious, nothing more. It was just as you said. You get the idea. It grows. You can't get it out of your head. You think just go and do it then you'll get over it. So I did. I went up to the airlock today, donned the suit – I've watched others do it – but there's this new protocol. I need to get permission from my section head and Chris said no. No one from engineering section is allowed topside because three walked out and never came back in the last couple of weeks. He gave me a very long talk about how valued I was. Everyone is needed in the Ark. I might not be an engineer but I'm part of the team. He went on and on but the answer was still no.”
“He is right though: since Omar arrived, three people went topside and have not been seen since. They must have thought it was safe up there.”
“But we're not prisoners.”
“Sarah, we are prisoners. We are not free. We scratch around in this hole thinking how clever we are to live seven generations longer than everyone else and that one day we'll be able to go back to the surface and repopulate the Earth. And everyone will be descended from us. I loathe it as much as you but that's the situation and we're stuck with it. Only no one is going to be descended from me. I'm a freak – I ain’t got the full set of genes – I've got red hair. There's no way I'm going to get a licence for a child – not with anyone.”
“All I want is to see the surface. I'm fixated. I'm addicted. I need to see this place I'm to repopulate. Is it worth it? I have to know. Otherwise shoot me now.” Sarah turned away in frustration but she calmed herself and spoke more quietly. “Julia, I'm your friend and I think you are as deserving as anyone else to get a licence for a child, red hair or not. I'm sorry others don't see it like that. Until about a month ago I would have said much what you just said. But that's all changed. We're no longer alone. Don't you see? Omar came. He's not the only one – he can't be. We're stuck in this blasted dungeon going on with our trivial lives, waiting and waiting and all we have is this big hope – a big fat hope: repopulate the Earth – for humanity's sake. But that won't happen. Omar and his Nephilim friends have already done it – they've beaten us to it and we're still stuck here.”
Julia knew Sarah was right but she had not had the self-conviction to admit it to herself. When Omar arrived, it killed off all sense of purpose. Sarah talked freely about her feelings of frustration and defeat but Julia felt it in others too. The Patriarch and the directors were afraid of it and were paralysed by fear. It was a slow process to accept that change had come and not everyone could see it. It required a reversal of every mantra they had grown up with. Yet Julia had known for a long time that it was all false for her. Since her classmates had started whispering insults because of her red hair, Julia had formed the deep sense of self-loathing that lay mostly dormant but prevented her having any hope of children. Julia was not a mutant as such but she had a genetic defect. That was how the teacher had explained it to her. She now took Sarah by both hands and, looking over both shoulders to make sure no one was coming, she said, “Omar has asked me to become one of the Nephilim.” Sarah's whole body slumped at the news. Her hands clamped about Julia's. Her face showed how incredulous she thought it.
“What do you mean? Is it … possible?”
“Omar says it is. He says there is a way.”
“And what will you do? What did you tell him?”
“I haven't told him yet. I wanted – needed – time to think. Until this moment I hadn't made up my mind but now I have. I want to go with him. I love him Sarah. There's never been anyone else – you know that. I scarcely understand it myself but I trust him and I know this is what I want to do.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes. It's just as you told me. There's nothing here for me. There never has been. I'm a basket case as far as the Ark is concerned.”
“I'm here, Julia. You'll be leaving I suppose.”
“Oh, Sarah, I hadn't thought about it like that. I don't know what to say, Sarah...”
“You'll come back to visit?” pleaded Sarah.
“Of course.”
“Julia. What's to stop us all becoming like the Nephilim? Surely it's not just you?”
Julia had no answer. She had been utterly selfish and never considered anyone else. She had been prepared to leave her friend behind. Her feelings for Omar had blinded her to the consequences of her actions. Her resolve was challenged but only momentarily. She heard the desire in Sarah's voice but all she could say was, “I'll ask Omar. He's the only one who knows the answer to that.”
Chapter 48
Washington, District of Columbia, United States of America
Gary attended the briefing and received the written orders. The envelope contained Presidential Order 472666. The guys had already christened it the Nephilim Protocol – affixing more than a hint of derision. Whoever or whatever they were, the CIA would get them. The orders presented a list of suspects. They were to be found and brought in for questioning. They were not to be released. They were to be turned. If they resisted or tried to flee, they should be shot. There were no restrictions on the jurisdiction – whatever country harboured these people, the orders were clear: detain or terminate. The consequence of failure was nothing short of Armageddon. A submarine and its payload had gone missing. The GPS network had mysteriously stopped working. Heavily depleted uranium had been found – but no fissile material, it had to be somewhere – perhaps in American cities? The possibility of nuclear war would increase to the point it would become inevitable. That was unthinkable and the Nephilim must be stopped.
During the briefing, they showed photographs of Eden Village, the orphanage in Mozambique where Gary had first met Doctor Campbell and uncovered evidence of uranium enrichment processing. As Gary listened he felt vindicated but, nonetheless, it was nothing to take pleasure in. Doctor Campbell had presided over an institution that gathered vulnerable children and enlisted them in a fanatical and dangerous cause. The children were exploited and indoctrinated. They had unswerving loyalty to the man they now called their father. However, as Gary knew well, it was more complicated. The children graduated from his orphanage and, almost without exception, went to study at the very best educational institutions – not just in America but around the globe. For brainwashed zombies they were pretty sharp.
Eighteen suspects were on the list. Some had photographs; others were a name and only the vaguest notion of their whereabouts. Without exception, the photographs showed young men and women – mere teenagers. None looked the age the security services estimated. It was mystifying. There was no rational explanation. Some of the guys speculated round the coffee machine that the Nephilim were clones and were continually replaced. It sounded like a plot familiar from science fiction movies. No one took it seriously yet it was never ridiculed.
Gary scanned down the list. Doctor Campbell had two natural children, James and Kate. Both were on the list. James studied nuclear physics at Cambridge University. Kate was married to Armando de Sousa, current President of Mozambique and, himself, a protégé of Doctor Campbell's orphanage. Armando and Kate were untouchable, of course. Gary painfully remembered the assassination attempt and how badly wrong it had gone – not just for the hired guns but politically. The file on Armando was thick. The executive summary noted that Armando was a former child soldier, self-confessed murderer who had killed his own father. He was also a chess grandmaster and a redemptive politician who had led Mozambique to prosperity and a respectable level of good governance – for an African country. These facts Gary knew. He had never suspected that President de Sousa was HIV-positive. It was never mentioned in his campaign speeches but the American government had reliable sources.
The list also had Celia Wu – with a sketch produced by an artist directed by Gary. Celia beat Gary at chess – there had been little contest. Further down the list was a picture of the captivating Asian girl: Zarina Ansari – alias Mariam Karam. Gary remembered the interview and he had even read the article she had tried to publish about the future of nuclear proliferation. Her warning seemed to be coming true. Gary could not see what imminent danger she presented but the list was the list. Her whereabouts were known and she would be brought in the following morning. Gary was to take part in the operation.
After that, Gary had been assigned along with Agent Schultz to track down a cell of three Brazilians. They were linked to Zarina – or rather her Lebanese alias, Mariam – during her frequent visits to Rio de Janeiro. They had also cropped up assisting archaeological research of modern battlefields in Iraq. The research was conducted by Lisbon University which was the next stop for Gary and Agent Schultz. At least Portugal should be safe enough: no snakes, no insects and no psychopathic murders. There might even be some time for sight-seeing and nice food. It was a shame Agent Vitti was going. He would know how to find a good place to eat.
Gary's train of though was disturbed when his cell phone rang. It was Mandy, he breathed deeply before answering.
“Hello, Mandy.”
“Hi Gary, it's been a while. The odd text every few days isn't much to go on.”
“I know, you don't need to tell me. I feel it too. Look, are you free this evening?”
“Sorry, I have a pregnant llama who needs me – she's ready to give birth to twins at any moment. Are you travelling again? I rather hoped you'd be in town for a while. Trish said she'd met you in the mall and you seemed a bit distant. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I guess. I'm just jet lagged.” It was not entirely true. Though he was exhausted after Beirut, it was more the sense of being unclean. He had spent a night digging in the cemetery and the vestiges of death seemed still to cling to him. He felt something inside – his spirit – was oppressed. As a result he baulked at meeting people and had even put off calling Mandy – at least for a day or two until he adjusted. He should have realised after bumping into Trish that news of his return would spread.
“So are you back for good or are you going away again?”
“Going away.” Gary paused, he knew he should not reveal anything about the investigation but this time he did not see the harm. “I'm off to Lisbon tomorrow – just a few days. I'd like to meet up next weekend. Perhaps go away somewhere.”
“I'm waiting Gary. You know I am. I just don't understand why.”
“Haven't you seen the news?” Gary's tone was a little more aggressive than he wanted.
“Of course I've seen the news! I just don't understand what it's got to do with you.”
“It's difficult to explain. But it does. I'm stuck right in the middle of it all.”
“Why? It's just a glitch? Isn't that what they call it? They'll have it fixed soon enough. Won't they?”
“There's more to it than that. Believe me, I wish I could explain. I love you. You have to trust me.” Gary felt he was just blurting out nonsense. Where did he get these lines? It was soap opera speak – and badly written at that. He felt he was losing, his words dried up and he went silent.
“I love you too,” replied Mandy as she ended the call. Her voice sounded soft and gentle. She did not seem upset. Gary breathed in relief. Why did the world have to fall apart just when he found a girl like Mandy? More than ever he wanted out. He had had enough. Just one more mission he promised himself. Gee, he thought wryly, he had even started calling them missions. What was he thinking?
Chapter 49
Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States of America
Gary felt the cold steel of his standard-issue pistol. It was heavy and weighed not only in his hands but also on his conscience. He was about to kill another human being. A life, he believed, that was precious and sacred. He had orders and this was necessary to protect his family, friends, his country – or so he told himself.
“Give it up, Zarina!” Gary called out desperately hoping that his voice would prove convincing. He felt it carried neither conviction nor authority. “If you surrender and come in peacefully, we can cut a deal. Otherwise my orders are to shoot.”
Gary waited, uncertain how to proceed. He sheltered behind the trunk of a tree. It was dark. He knew Zarina was close but not exactly where. He had gone with Agent Vitti to detain Zarina at her apartment near Harvard. At six o'clock in the morning she had not been there. This was the day she went horse riding; her day started at five. Gary and Agent Vitti drove to the stables with another car carrying three more agents. They quickly established that Zarina was there but was out in the forest riding her horse – and so the chase had started. Fourteen hours later, Zarina had not been taken into custody. She had led Gary, Vitti and the other agents up hills, down ravines and through freezing, muddy water following false trails and a horse set loose that ran for miles before Vitti brought it down with a superb shot ranging over half-a-mile. The rider, however, proved to be nothing more than a jacket stuffed with brushwood. Another four hours were required to pick up Zarina's trail after a sighting by a passer-by. Vitti wanted to mobilise the local National Guard unit but darkness had fallen and they would not be able to join the hunt until morning. By that time Zarina would likely be well gone. Gary, Vitti and the others pressed on.
After being pursued for some time, Zarina must have slipped or fallen but the noise had given her proximity away to Gary. Gary had her trapped in a narrowing ravine with steep rocky slopes on each side. The other agents had fanned out several hundred metres on each side. Zarina would need to get back out by penetrating the line or climbing the cliff face – not a straight-forward task and she would be easily caught doing so. Now, Gary waited in the darkness his challenge issued. It was Zarina's move.
“You have nothing to offer me in a deal, Agent Sanders.” Zarina's voice emanated from the darkness. It might have been twenty yards in front. In the thick forest, she was well hidden. She sounded resolute and calm despite being all but caught. Perhaps she was armed? Gary had not considered it until this moment. He felt a chill as adrenaline began to pump.
“If you cooperate, we can protect you. Give you a new life, a new identity.”
“You're asking me to betray my father and my family. Not even the whole world would be enough, Agent Sanders.”
“They're playing a dangerous game and I wouldn't want to see you caught up in it.”
“There's no deal. You have nothing to offer.”
“You leave me no choice, Zarina.”
“We all have choices, Agents Sanders. If you're a smart guy, you'll make the right choice now.”
Gary swallowed. The time had come. Pounding started in his head. He heard laughing. Someone was sniggering at him. Not just one but many voices. Gary's vision blurred slightly. He nervously flicked a glance over his shoulder. He felt his hand shake and he gripped tightly to the gun with both hands. Gary heard rustling in the bushes behind him. Agent Vitti or one of the others must be coming up. The other agents laughed at him behind his back. He had to prove he was just as good as they were.
“Kill her,” came a whisper in his ear.
Gary disengaged the safety catch on the pistol letting the click be heard. He stepped round the tree he was sheltering behind and caught sight of Zarina. Her delicate form was just barely visible among the shadows. He raised the gun. In her hand she held an equestrian bow and had an arrow notched on the string. Gary realised this was for real. The rustling behind grew rapidly louder and sounded less like Vitti. Instead he heard grunting. Gary spun round and to his horror saw a large black bear charging toward him. He felt a silent shaft pass near his cheek and he heard the zip of Zarina's bow string. The arrow pierced the left eye of the bear as it crashed into Gary and knocked him flat. Gary lay dazed for a few moments, his breath knocked out of him. He saw tiny sparkles of stars in the night sky. His g
un was gone from his hand and the weight of the bear pinned his body. He could not get up. Zarina stood over him looking down. Not for the first time Gary contemplated death.
“We are not the murderous fanatics you think us. I only ask that you wait a few minutes before calling for help.” Gary nodded slowly. He could barely speak never mind cry out. Zarina disappeared into the darkness.
Gary waited what felt like hours. Blood from the bear seeped slowly from the eye socket where the arrow was embedded. The bear had been killed instantly. Zarina had not only let him live but had saved his life from the bear. The whole world would not be enough. What could be more valuable than the whole world? Gary could only wonder what Zarina meant. She was intense and passionate but it was hard to see why she would have such romantic notions about family and loyalty. Gary doubted he would do the same if put to the test. He was weak. When he could no longer stand the pain, he called out, “Vitti!”
Chapter 50
Lisbon, Portugal
Gary entered the office of Professor Silva of the Lisbon University department of archaeology. Professor Silva was nearing retirement but still had a mobile face and animated gestures that were gregariously displayed to usher Gary and then Agent Schultz to their seats. Gary commenced in Portuguese. He flung a sly look of superiority to Agent Schultz who would understand nothing.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet us, Professor Silva.”
“Not at all, not at all. It is my pleasure. Did you have a good flight from Washington?”
“Yes, very pleasant. Much better than some of my recent travel experiences.” Gary recalled, with aversion, Mozambique.
“I see your colleague does not comprehend Portuguese. Perhaps we continue in English, no?” Gary nodded and smiled again at Agent Schultz. “What can I assist you with? You were not very specific in your email but I am curious in what way you are interested in our work?”
The Nephilim Protocol Page 24
