The Immortality Code

by Douglas E. Richards

“I wish I could tell you different,” said Reed.

  Allie blew out a long breath. “Okay, Colonel. So, what are you offering?”

  “Pretty much anything you want,” said Hubbard. “We’d pull you off the grid. Form a black lab around you. You’d have unlimited funding, and a salary so large you’d never want for money again.”

  “And how many years before I can make my work public?”

  “I’d want you to agree to seven years of exclusivity. Giving the US a healthy head start. After that, it’s up to you. By then, you’ll know as much about the state of play as we do. You can evaluate the pros and cons of possible disclosure yourself. A lot can change in seven years. You might surprise yourself and decide to extend the period of exclusivity for the good of civilization.”

  “Or not,” said Allie.

  “Or not,” agreed Hubbard.

  “But seven years should be long enough to get to a working quantum computer,” said Allie. “The rate limiting step is the synthesis of the biomolecule. So if I make this deal, I’m basically handing a skeleton key to the US government. Exclusively. With no guarantee that it won’t be used.”

  “It’s worse than that,” said Hubbard. “I can guarantee that it will be used. And even abused. Despite my best efforts to prevent it. But it will be abused less if we control it—a democracy—rather than it being controlled by a dictatorship or powerful individual. America has certain lines the public won’t allow it to cross. After we used the nuclear bomb in World War II we could have ruled the world. But we didn’t. Instead, we spent a fortune to help get Germany and the rest of Europe back on their feet.”

  Allie paused in thought, considering everything she had learned. “I’ll want to see the specifics on the kind of resources you’re willing to throw at this,” she said finally. “The location of the secret black lab I’ll be working at. Where I’ll live, my compensation, the extent of my authority over the program, and so on. Your plans for taking me off the grid. Your plans for security. Everything.”

  “That’s fair,” said Hubbard. “You’re as savvy and impressive as the commander says you are. And speaking of Commander Reed and security, I’d want to put him in charge of security for the program. So you’d be seeing a lot more of him.”

  Allie tilted her head and eyed Hubbard suspiciously. “Why him?”

  “The most important reason is that he’s the best operative I have. I thought he might be, but he proved it today in spades. And this will be our most important project.”

  Hubbard paused. “But there’s another reason, also. He saved your life. And I can tell how much the two of you enjoy each other’s company.”

  Allie raised her eyebrows, surprised that the colonel would be honest about this. “So you’re offering him up as a way to sweeten the pot? Trying to manipulate me like I’m a schoolgirl with a crush?”

  “Your words, not mine,” said the colonel evenly. “I prefer to think of it as less about manipulation, and more about killing two birds with one stone. Providing the best security and building a team with good rapport at the same time.” She smiled. “Not that I’m above using manipulation when I think it might work.”

  Allie found herself returning the smile. “A fair answer,” she said. “If I were to agree, do you promise you won’t let him tackle me anymore?”

  Hubbard smiled. “I’m afraid that’s something I’d have to leave between you and the commander.”

  19

  Zachary Reed felt surprisingly refreshed after only four hours of sleep, probably because he had slept as soundly as a corpse—after nearly having become one.

  Allie contacted him when she awakened just after eight, and reported that she had slept well, despite the many hours she had been unconscious the day before. He brought in breakfast and coffee from the outside, from a restaurant known for its crepes, and dined with her in her room.

  The medical staff then checked her thoroughly, one last time, and she was cleared to move into her new temporary quarters, a small Tudor house set off by itself about a hundred yards from the base’s headquarters building. The home was the nicest on base, but still modest compared to normal luxury standards.

  Reed escorted her there, taking care to keep security as unobtrusive as possible on her route.

  He and the colonel had been up much of the night pounding out terms for a proposed agreement with the esteemed physicist, and discussing the questions she had posed the night before. The colonel had exited the base at three that morning, leaving further discussion and negotiation in Reed’s hands, apparently not wanting to be a third wheel any longer than necessary.

  Allie invited the commander inside her temporary quarters to review what he and the head of Tech Ops had come up with. She looked refreshed and in relatively good spirits, which Reed found remarkable considering all she had been through—and what was to come. Moving forward with Tech Ops would require her to cut off all ties with friends and colleagues for at least seven years, and turn her back on her home, the University of South Dakota, and everything else she had known.

  The longer they pored through the agreement and discussed logistics, the more Reed marveled at how well she was handling things, and the more taken he became with the young scientist. Not because of her genius, but maybe despite it. He would never have guessed that he’d find her personality to be as extraordinary as her intellect, especially given her past.

  But perhaps her personality was appealing because of her past. Maybe her suffering had ensured she didn’t become arrogant and insufferable. Perhaps her ability to keep her sense of humor in desperate circumstances had been the very thing that allowed her to rebound so beautifully after her life had hit rock bottom.

  They had ended up in the kitchen, where a variety of papers and two laptops were now spread out over a large table there. The entire residence had been furnished in a farmhouse style, which Reed thought was at odds with its Tudor exterior, although he knew less about interior decorating than he did about brain surgery.

  The two inhabitants of the Fort Carson VIP guest home continued to discuss Allie Keane’s future in great detail, and to arrive at answers to her earlier questions that were satisfactory to both parties. At this point, her decision to join Tech Ops was all but a formality, and Reed was pleased that their rapport remained strong, despite topics that didn’t usually lend themselves to relationship building.

  Reed had been impressed with Hubbard’s performance the night before. Given his newness to the group, he hadn’t really seen her in action, but she was very good. She had taken his plea to be scrupulously honest with the young physicist to heart, and she really knew how to sell. Not that she had done anything but tell the truth, but she had told it convincingly, and in the best light.

  In his view, she had only made one error in judgment. She shouldn’t have positioned his appointment as head of security for the new black lab the way she had. It wasn’t that he minded the post. She had read his file, and knew he wasn’t averse to settling down in a specific geography if this became useful. And he had made it clear that he thought a lot of the lithe doctor of physics.

  But his appointment should have come up much later, organically. By calling attention to his and Allie’s growing attraction, she had risked making Allie suspicious of his motives. And of making them both self-conscious, as if the colonel were a matchmaker who was keen on forcing them together.

  “You know,” said Allie, after they had finished a lengthy discussion of possible locations for a black lab, “I worked around the clock for almost two years putting my theory together. So I had planned to take the next few weeks off.”

  Reed winced. “We can still make that happen,” he said. “As long as you don’t mind taking your time off within the fabulous resort you’re lucky enough to be in now.”

  “I do feel lucky,” said Allie with a grin. “I hear Fort Carson is the number one vacation destination in America. I’m pinching myself right now.”

  Reed laughed. “How about this,” h
e said. “Give me a few months, and I can promise you a long vacation at a destination of your choice. Let’s get you fully off the grid first—possibly by faking your death, as we’ve discussed—and make sure all security is in place.”

  Allie sighed and shook her head. “No need,” she said sadly. “A fabulous vacation for one isn’t appealing. It’ll just remind me that I’m alone in the world. I think what I need to do right now is to throw myself into planning for this lab, and my new life. And then throw myself into the work. Try to forget what I left behind.”

  Reed nodded. It was probably a good strategy. Fate had truly been cruel to Allie Keane. This was the second time that she had thought her future would be glorious, only to have the rug pulled out from under her.

  Reed was about to respond when there was a loud rap on the solid oak front door. He glanced at Allie, who seemed unconcerned, even as he came to full alert. Only a handful of people could make it past security to reach that door, and Colonel Hubbard, who was one of them, was no longer here.

  He checked the security panel in the kitchen, which matched similar panels in other rooms. Equipment had been brought in that blocked all cell phone and other signals to and from the house. But the monitors and internet inside were hard wired, and couldn’t be tampered with without security personnel being alerted.

  On the monitor, a tall man in his early sixties stood waiting for his knock to be answered. He was in full dress uniform, covered in medals, and his salt-and-pepper hair was straight out of central casting.

  “Who’s that?” asked Allie.

  “The base commander, General Cameron.”

  “Didn’t know he made house calls.”

  “Yeah, me neither,” said Reed.

  The commander answered the door, and after quick introductions, the general made his way inside and shut the door behind him.

  “So what brings you here, General?” asked Reed warily. There was something off about the man. Way off. Something that was making the hairs on Reed’s neck stand up. His every sense was now heightened, and he absently brought his hand to his holstered Glock

  The general lowered his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Commander Reed,” he whispered, looking like death warmed over.

  “Sorry about what?” said Reed, interposing his body between the general and Allie Keane and quietly pulling his weapon from its holster and holding it at the ready.

  “I’ve been compromised,” he said as a lone tear began to slide down his face. “They have my family in their sights,” he added, barely able to get out the words. “My wife. Kids. Grandchildren.”

  The general’s face was tortured and additional tears began to flow from the corners of his eyes.

  Reed’s head swiveled as he made a quick visual assessment of his surroundings, and then rushed to the security panel near the door.

  “Push the alarm on that panel, Commander, and you’re dead,” came an unknown voice emanating from a lapel pin on the general’s uniform. A voice with a slight Chinese accent.

  “The general is loaded up with enough octa-nitro-cubane to send the house you’re in into orbit,” continued the voice. “And I can blow it remotely. Security will answer your call, Commander, but only in time to scrape your remains from what’s left of the house. And the remains of General Cameron and Dr. Keane.”

  Allie’s eyes widened in horror and she stumbled back a few steps, but Reed had no time to reassure her.

  “Who is this?” he demanded. “And why should I believe you?”

  An amused chuckle emanated from the tiny speaker the general was wearing. “Call me Chen,” he said, giving an immensely popular Chinese surname that narrowed his identity down to a hundred million people. “As to why you should believe me, Commander, you’re much too smart for that question. You’re just stalling for time, and hoping to learn exactly where the explosives are on the general’s body.”

  The man was exactly right. But by asking, Reed had bought enough time to finish putting the pieces together.

  The Chinese had once again unleashed new technology. The guest home actively blocked all known signals, in or out. But the Chinese military must have found a frequency that was undetectable and unblockable. It was the only explanation for the voice. The only explanation as to how Chen could not only hear what was going on in the house, but could see it, having known Reed was at the security panel.

  There had been rumors about such technology for almost a year, but most believed the rumors were nothing but ghost stories designed to frighten little children.

  So much for that theory.

  Both sides of the current cold war developed breakthroughs they only used in cases of extreme need, not risking their discovery on the mundane. The Allies had broken the Nazis’ famous Enigma Code in World War II, but had refused to act on much of the information they were able to intercept, letting people die rather than show their hand. If the Nazis’ learned that their code was broken, they would scrap it, and the Allies’ advantage would be lost. So the Allies had only used their ace in the hole in the most critical circumstances.

  “Your man injected Dr. Keane with a bug,” said Reed. “Didn’t he? One that also served as a homing beacon.”

  Reed could see how it had played out in his mind’s eye. After she had been tranquilized, the limo driver had injected the device, probably inserting it just below her shoulder, anchoring it to her collarbone. It was one final precaution in pursuit of their ultimate prize.

  “It’s the only way you could have located her,” continued the commander. “A device based on signaling technology impervious to detection or jamming.”

  “Very good, Commander. But I’m not surprised you’d figure it out. Not after how much you impressed us in Iowa.”

  “So even though we performed thorough sweeps of both Dr. Keane and her hospital room,” said Reed, “you were listening to us there, also, weren’t you?”

  “Your discussions were quite informative,” replied the Chinese operative. “I’d even say entertaining.”

  “But once your homing beacon told you she was on this base,” said Reed, thinking out loud, “you realized infiltration was impossible. And that only a handful of people would be able to get near her.”

  “I bet you’re no fun to watch a movie with, Commander. I suspect you ruin all the endings. Yes. That’s it exactly. We identified the general as the weakest link. Not only was he ranked the highest, he has five adult children, and twelve adorable little grandchildren. He might be willing to sacrifice himself for the cause, but not all of them.”

  The general finally broke, screaming curses at Chen at the top of his lungs.

  “Are you done?” said the Chinese operative calmly when he had finished. “I’m glad you got that out of your system, General. But one more word. One! And I’ll kill little three-year-old Hailey, even if you cooperate. If you understand—say absolutely nothing.”

  Tears continued to stream down the general’s face, which was contorted into a tortured mask of pain and hatred, but he bit off the reply he so desperately wanted to make.

  “So where was I?” said Chen pleasantly. “That’s right, I was speaking to Commander Reed. As you can tell, my people are now stalking everyone the general loves, in three different US states, ready to strike in an instant. I showed him unimpeachable video evidence—often through the lenses of sniper scopes—that they’re all at our mercy. I made it clear that my men would slaughter them all at my say-so—and record it for his later viewing pleasure.”

  The voice paused. “Once the general was properly convinced that our threats were real, we had him leave the base to meet with our people. So they could hook him up with our communication tech and explosives for today’s festivities.”

  “You must be very proud of yourself,” hissed Reed.

  “You and I are both warriors, Commander. Both the same. We do what is necessary.”

  “No. Not even close to the same. No one willing to murder helpless children can call themselves a warrior. More l
ike a butcher.”

  Chen ignored him. “So here’s the deal I’m willing to make,” he said. “You, Dr. Keane, and General Cameron leave the base together. I need you and the general to supply the right codes and issue the right commands to slip away without arousing too much suspicion. I’ll leave the how up to you. I’ve seen how creative you can be. I also know that you’re a trained pilot, Commander, so get yourselves into the air. Once you’re up, we’ll give you a destination in mainland America, where we’ll have our own jet waiting to take Dr. Keane the rest of the way.

  “If anyone follows,” he continued, “if anything goes wrong, I’ll detonate the explosives strapped to the general’s body. If you or Dr. Keane try to put any distance between you and the general, same thing. Big explosion, and at least three deaths.”

  He paused for this to sink in. “But if you do what we ask, deliver her to us without trouble, we’ll spare the general and his family. And you, too, Commander Reed. Because we want you to come with her.”

  “Why?”

  “We want Dr. Keane to be as happy as possible while she works with us. And having you there to provide companionship will be a big help to her, psychologically. You can keep her company.”

  “And what if I tell you to shove it up your ass?” said Reed. “What if I shoot the general down where he stands right now?”

  “Nothing can stop you from doing that. But nothing can stop me from killing you and Dr. Keane a moment later. The explosives will turn that house into a crater, weather he’s alive or not. Either we get Dr. Keane, or no one does.”

  “What makes you think I won’t sacrifice us all to prevent you from having free rein over every computer in the world?”

  “We’ve studied you for many years, Commander, while you were with SEAL Team Six. My experts tell me that you won’t let me detonate. You’d sacrifice yourself, sure. That kind of grand heroic gesture is definitely in your nature. But you wouldn’t sacrifice the general’s entire family. And not Dr. Keane. Especially given the way you feel about her.”