The Nephilim Protocol

by Stuart Killbourn

  In the foyer, Gary saw Doctor Campbell – it was the first time since Mozambique. He was clamped in manacles but held his head up with dignity. He caught Gary's eye and smiled. Agent Vitti hovered – he seemed reluctant to give up his catch but he diverted over to Agent Schultz and Gary. His face did not entirely show jubilation but it was mixed with a perplexed and worried look.

  “We've got our man then?” Agent Schultz congratulated. He patted Vitti on the shoulder. Vitti did not reply at first but merely shook his head.

  “He was sitting with his jacket on, no television, just silence – just waiting.”

  “What did he say?” Agent Vitti looked more agitated.

  “He'd ordered a trolley from room service. He invited me to eat with him! There were mussels, grilled venison, truffles and potato soufflé – baked cheesecake for desert – all my favourite foods. It's like he knew I was coming. It was all laid out under the cloche. Look, I've got to go. We've taking him up to High Point.”

  Gary followed Agent Schultz back to the car. Forty minutes later they entered a nondescript office building. No doubt, thought Gary, the neighbours had little notion of what went on inside. Gary and Agent Schultz sat in the adjoining room to Doctor Campbell. A one-way mirror allowed Gary to study Doctor Campbell closely for several minutes. He had been left alone in the brightly lit room, seated at a table. He was looking much older than when Gary had met him in Mozambique. His hair was completely grey and he seemed thinner – especially about the face. Also, he seemed nervous or rather unsteady. Agent Vitti entered and the questions began.

  “Doctor John Angus Campbell – is that right?”

  “Yes, I am Doctor Campbell.” He raised his hands to present the manacles as a gesture that they should be removed. Agent Vitti acquiesced.

  “Could you confirm you born in Scotland?”

  “I was,” he replied.

  “Do you or do you not deny that you have been enriching uranium for use in nuclear weapons?” Doctor Campbell considered for a few moments. He answered carefully.

  “I run an orphanage, Agent Vitti. The industrial process for enriching uranium involves a large infrastructure of both complex machinery and the power to run it. A thousand centrifuge machines would be needed and the process takes years to refine any significant quantity of enriched material. It is inconceivable that I would be able to accomplish such a thing were I even to attempt it.”

  “Nonetheless you did it.”

  “As you say.”

  “Isn't it something you're proud of? Why not admit it?”

  “I admit that during the civil war in Mozambique, it was utter chaos and there were things that were … expedient. Otherwise we'd have lost everything. And a lot depended on us. We had over three hundred kids in the orphanage and school – more and more were arriving every day. When the civil war kicked-off, most foreigners left. We stayed. From that point on, from that decision, we lost control. One thing led to another. We followed the only conceivable path – everything became inevitable – and it required us to do business with some very unpleasant people. We started mining operations and supplying minerals to countries in Asia. It was highly lucrative and allowed us to buy some protection – we saved lives. But at a cost. My son, James, was raised away from us. He grew up and went to school in Pakistan. He was a hostage in case we did not deliver on our deals. But in one way we were relieved since the civil war was claiming many lives.” Doctor Campbell paused. When he continued his voice trembled with emotion. “In the first month we lost four children, Agent Vitti. Four! They wandered out into the fields to play and I guess one of them trod on a landmine. Both girls, Niki and Assa were killed instantly. So was Samuel. Edwardo had most of his left leg blown off. I had to walk out, pick him up and carry him back. When we got Edwardo back to the orphanage we did our best but I'm not a medic though I've learned a lot since. Septicaemia set in and he took five days to die – his skin turned blotched purple, he screamed in tormented agony for hours until he gave up the struggle. He was six years old.”

  Doctor Campbell trailed off; his eyes moistened. Gary found himself imagining the scene. He wondered if Doctor Campbell was haunted by what he had found that day.

  “You built a heavy water reactor to breed plutonium. Did you sell that on the black market? Was it highly lucrative, Doctor Campbell?”

  “Seriously, Agent Vitti, are you giving me a morality lecture? For a number of years you, yourselves, have pursued a policy of mutually assured destruction to keep the peace between so-called superpowers: a deadly threat to counter a deadly threat – that’s how it works, isn’t it? But it isn’t enough to make a threat. You need a demonstration to make it persuasive?”

  “Do you call detonation of a high-altitude nuclear device last year in the Southern Indian Ocean a persuasive threat? The yield was around one hundred kilotons. Did you think we wouldn't detect it? Do you deny it?”

  “Demonstrations are necessary – you Americans know that. Both Nagasaki and Hiroshima were mere demonstrations. So, yes, I performed some demonstrations.”

  “What about this year? An underwater explosion destroyed one of our submarines – the USS Alaska. That's not something we can overlook.”

  “The Alaska sailed into Norfolk harbour three hours ago.” Doctor Campbell was completely deadpan.

  On Gary's side of the glass one of the naval offices nodded in agreement. Others whispered wanting to know why they had not been told. Having waited to see Agent Vitti's reaction, Doctor Campbell continued, “It seems the radio malfunctioned. Nonetheless, it was a particularly effective demonstration, I should say. That's when you began to take notice.”

  Gary looked around. High resolution cameras were trained on Doctor Campbell's face; infra-red cameras recorded changes in his skin temperature. His heart rate was monitored and blipped across the screen also. The agent operating the station signalled with a hint of disbelief, “He's lying.” Scepticism was murmured around the room. “He’s trying to conceal it, but he is clearly lying.”

  Someone remarked, “Doesn't sound like he's lying to me. He’s confessing.”

  “Unless you're hearing what you want to hear?” muttered Gary. There were looks of tense disapproval but the focus quickly switched back as Agent Vitti pressed.

  “You developed an alternative process for enriching uranium that requires much less equipment and time and money. We have the evidence.”

  Doctor Campbell's expression exhibited surprise that was quickly suppressed then he smiled and almost laughed but spoke seriously. “Agent Vitti, I have a terrible secret that would end civilisation. Imagine everything you love and care for spiralling into desolation – a global paroxysm. Imagine the fear and greed that exists now and multiply it a hundredfold but with no increase in the better qualities of humanity to act as a counterbalance. Imagine it, Agent Vitti.” Moments passed as Doctor Campbell stared intently at Agent Vitti then he continued in an entirely offhand manner. “Besides, you don't have one ounce of enriched uranium as evidence. You have no idea what this is about, Agent Vitti?”

  Agent Vitti replied implacably, “Nuclear proliferation is a dangerous game to play. The United States will not be held to ransom.”

  “Indeed, nuclear proliferation is a dangerous game. Would you like to play?”

  “Those responsible will be brought to justice whatever their involvement.”

  “Whose justice did you have in mind? But never mind, it's just that you're wide of the mark – barking up the wrong tree so to speak.”

  “Go on, I’ll indulge you. Tell me, what is it about?”

  Doctor Campbell did not respond for a few moments as if collecting his thoughts, deciding what to say, whether to reveal the truth or not.

  “A long time ago, there was a man named Abraham to whom God promised many children. They would be as countless as the dust of the earth or as the myriad of stars in sky. A fine promise but Abraham had no children whatsoever and he was an old man – like me. So he asked God for a sig
n. And God told Abraham to lay out animals cut in half with a path open between them. When Abraham had done this, carrion birds swooped down to eat the sacrificed animals so Abraham picked up a big stick – the branch of a tree – and drove the vultures away. Later, when evening came, a glowing furnace appeared, hovering, and passed between the animals. In this way God gave a sign to Abraham that he would keep his promise or that he, God Almighty, should be cut in half just like the animals.” Doctor Campbell paused. “Perhaps it is a familiar story, Agent Vitti?”

  Agent Vitti nodded. “I know the story.”

  “The carrion birds are unclean because they eat the flesh of animals left to rot and fester. They represent the nations that surrounded Abraham and threatened his existence and that of his children. He needed a stick to chase them away. I also had need of a stick – a big stick – but your fear and greed were sufficient to accomplish the rest. I did what I had to do so that humanity would survive the coming apocalypse. I had to protect my children.”

  Doctor Campbell stopped abruptly and silence ensued. Agent Vitti was obviously unsure where to go next with the interview. Gary watched Doctor Campbell. With his right hand he stroked his left arm. It struck Gary as an odd gesture but the story about Abraham was significant in some way that Gary could not readily decipher. Subconsciously, he felt the accusation of playing the role of the vultures in the allegory. But had God really made some promise to Doctor Campbell? Gary dismissed the idea out-of-hand. And what could possibly be so special about his children? Yet they were talented. Judging from the reaction provoked in others around him, the consensus was that Doctor Campbell was a misguided mad man with a messianic delusion.

  “Doctor Campbell,” Agent Vitti re-joined, “what possible reason could we have for harming your children?” Gary noticed that Doctor Campbell was looking tired and had to concentrate quite hard to maintain his focus. He began to clutch his left arm rather than simply rubbing it.

  “Even you, Agent Vitti, would seek to harm them if you knew the answer. And you, Agent Vitti, are a cultured, humane and well-mannered individual – modestly detached from the vicious greed and jealousy and fear that drive many. For the sake of people such as yourself, I am sorry that the end of your civilisation is inevitable.”

  The agents monitoring Doctor Campbell commented incredulously, “Now he's telling the truth!”

  Someone cut in with a distinctly cynical tone, “Or what he thinks is the truth.”

  “So you admit that you seek to destroy civilisation?” probed Agent Vitti.

  “These are your words, Agent Vitti.” Doctor Campbell paused seemingly to bite his lower lip. “But I'm afraid to inform you that you have managed it all by yourself. Is your friend Gary Sanders behind that screen?” Agent Vitti did not reply but he must have let it slip from his reaction. Gary was shocked to hear his own name. Others glanced accusingly at him. “His father should have been proud.”

  “In case you hadn't noticed, humanity is doing just fine...”

  “Eating and drinking right up to the end – just as in the days of Noah, until it started raining.” Doctor Campbell lowered his voice, “That which is inevitable may as well have already happened.”

  Gary noticed a wince of pain cross Doctor Campbell's face. Suddenly, he realised what this was all about. Doctor Campbell had not been caught by dedicated police work or thorough investigation. He had given himself up. Gary had suspected it but now realised why. It was Doctor Campbell's final gambit. He was dying – the signs were right there to see – and he gave himself up to impart one last senseless riddle about the end of the world. He was having a heart-attack. Gary tried to alert the other agents in the room. Doctor Campbell's lips were turning blue; he was sweating profusely and becoming increasingly pallid. At first no one paid any attention to Gary but, as they saw the signs from themselves, there was a general urgency to do something. Agent Vitti panicked as Doctor Campbell slid off his chair and slumped to the floor. Twenty minutes later the prisoner, Doctor Campbell, was pronounced dead. Some were enraged that he had escaped before justice or, to Gary's mind, before their own injured pride could be satisfied.

  Chapter 57

  National Secure Archive Facility

  “I ran your blood sample from the other day.” Frank looked with steady reassurance. Julia was unconcerned as she received the announcement.

  “I'm feeling much better,” Julia interrupted. There was something, however, in Frank's hesitancy that began to unnerve her.

  “I'm sorry for the delay but the results were not… They were a bit confusing and I had to consult the old records and it took me a while to be completely sure.” Frank seemed unsettled which was unusual. “The test results show that you have antibodies to a virus, to HIV. Which means that you are infected.”

  “What do you mean? What's HIV?”

  “Human Immunodeficiency Virus. It's an infection contracted via the exchange of body fluids. The thing is, Julia, no one in the Ark has the virus so I don't know who you caught it from … except ...” Frank did not go on.

  “Except for Omar. You're saying that Omar gave me this?”

  “Yes. I'm guessing you and Omar … were intimate?”

  Julia blushed severely. It was true.

  “The virus,” Frank continued, “resides in your immune cells. It means that, over time, your immune system will become weaker. With a weak immune system, even a minor cold becomes a serious problem. It used to be treated with drugs but we have no way to produce them in the Ark. Julia, in a year or two you will start to get sick and … I'm sorry to tell you … What's that noise? Something's going on outside.”

  From the corridor outside Frank's office came shouting and sounds of a scuffle. Frank had heard it too and they exchanged questioning looks before reacting. Violence was not unheard of in the Ark. With so many people cooped up, tempers flared every now and then and differences had to be resolved. Usually, others intervened before it got too serious and a sanction was applied. What Julia heard outside sounded decidedly serious. Julia and Frank stood either side of the door listening. Indistinct voices were angrily debating where to go. Suggestions were interspersed with vicious threats. A shout came from further down the corridor.

  “We've got him.”

  The mob moved on. Julia saw fear in Frank's eyes.

  “Who are they looking for?” whispered Frank. These words struck a chill into Julia's chest. Immediately, she opened the door and headed towards the disturbance. She turned the corner to a seething mêlée of struggling men. She could not see the victim of the frenzied attack. Andrea was pinned against the wall with a look of fear. She had taken a blow to the cheek and was bloodied but she was not restrained in any away except by shock.

  Julia halted and watched in excruciating wild panic as the mob beat and pummelled their prey. The attack was savage and brutal. She had never witnessed such hatred. She screamed out, “Stop it! Stop it! Leave him alone! What has he done to you?”

  One of the men turned to Julia and shouted into her face, “He stole our children!” Julia could see the man was filled with grief and fury. She felt afraid and confused. The man turned back and shouted, “Let me at him!” He prepared to strike the victim with a chair leg. Julia lurched forward in an attempt to restrain him. She froze grasping the man's upheld arm. The press of men had parted to reveal a barely recognisable form already beaten severely, with blood running freely from numerous wounds around the head. It was not Omar! The distorted face was pale under the streaming blood. Julia gagged. She saw it was Thomas. Her mind battered between surprise and revulsion. She was shrugged aside. The man crashed the chair leg onto Thomas' arm raised to protect himself. Feebly, Julia staggered backwards, transfixed by the bestial violence unfolding but her fears again began to focus on her concerns for Omar. She extricated herself.

  Julia ran back to Frank who was still cowering in his office. She asserted control of her mind, “Take off your white coat. They've got Thomas. I think they're going to kill him.” Fra
nk failed to react. “Come on, Frank! Stop looking like a medic. Get that off!” Frank's white coat was quickly shed. “I'm going to find Omar. Come on!”

  Julia turned and left. Moving cautiously yet quickly around the medical wing avoiding the mob, Julia reached Omar's quarters. Frank followed meekly. Julia pushed the door open gently, uncertain of what she would find. Omar was sitting in his chair calmly facing the door.

  “I'm so glad I found you. I feared the worst.” Omar stood up and embraced her. “We've got to get you out of here. There's a riot outside and fighting.” Julia stopped short of mentioning killing.

  “I heard.”

  “We've got to find somewhere for you to hide until this calms down. The catacombs. We'll wait it out.”

  Julia took hold of Omar's arm and pulled him toward the door. They emerged into the corridor. A rapid series of ear-splitting bangs echoed round the corridors. Screams of panic and pain followed. The noise, unfamiliar to Julia, terrified and she faltered in her determined course of action.

  “Gunfire,” said Omar.

  The sounds of fighting stopped and unseen people were running. Soon there was heart-stopping silence. From one of the side tunnels, Julia saw a man stumble and fall then drag himself along the floor. He was trying to escape, a wide swathe of bright blood trailing behind. Frank dodged passed Julia and ran to help – Frank drew Julia and Omar after him. As she approached, Frank was already checking the injuries. It was Edward – one of the engineering crew. A series of vicious holes ran across his body. Blood oozed thick and red between Frank's fingers as he applied pressure to the wounds. Frank held the man's hand.

  “We got Thomas. He got what he had coming. The others will pay just the same.” His voice rasped between clenched teeth. His breath failed and he gripped Frank's hand hard. Julia saw desperate uncertainty and he winced in pain. Edward was older than Julia by quite a few years – she was not sure exactly how many. He had always been good company – ready with a funny story or joke. Julia felt disorientated to see him in the last moments of his life expressing hatred against Thomas. It was a confounding juxtaposition of expectation and reality. Edward's eyes glazed over and he stopped breathing. His corpse rolled and eased against the floor. Frank looked in shock at the body and at the blood on his hands.