The Delta Chain

by Ian Edward

  William had never been religious in any way, but he saw how Joseph’s manic energy rubbed off on those who were easily influenced. It meant Joseph could persuade others to his way of thinking.

  This meant power.

  Westmeyer was determined he wouldn’t be trapped by an ordinary, uneventful life, like that of his father. He was fascinated by Vender; by his manic energy; and by his power and influence over others.

  Years later, with the formation of Nexus and the launch of the Operation Babel projects, Westmeyer pointed out to Asquith that Vender could be useful.

  Asquith bankrolled Vender’s idea for a sect. The self-deluded leader set up his Keepers Of The Faith and established his remote compounds, or “Coms” as his enlisted Keepers came to call them.

  Nexus gave Vender and his balmy followers assistance in “obtaining” the babies and young children who would be raised on his Coms as pure, new age souls, the only ones fit, in Vender’s opinion, of being accepted by the returning Christ.

  Vender saw his destiny as raising and preparing them. Even though Vender became increasingly disturbed and his views distorted, he’d posed no threat to Nexus.

  And each year, as his “pure souls” grew older, just a few were made available to Nexus for their own projects. It was a small price for the First Keeper to pay. Vender was never told the purpose of these projects. Instead, he was fed various vague stories, which he simply accepted without further interest.

  His only concern was that he and his growing sect would be left alone.

  CHAPTER FIFTY NINE

  Kate phoned Betty Joel on her cell as she sped toward the Institute. The coastal road offered a view of a restless ocean beneath a sky of dark, swollen clouds.

  ‘I suppose a “welcome back” is in order, young lady,’ said Betty. ‘I’m sure you know you created quite a stir with your little disappearing act.’

  ‘Betty, I know I owe you an apology, for not letting you know what I was up to.’

  ‘Understood, honey. God knows you’ve been under more stress than anyone deserves…’

  ‘James knew but I did ask him to keep quiet.’

  ‘But he didn’t know the full story, did he, sweetie? You kept him in the dark as well-’

  ‘Okay, you got me. And I’ve got some explaining to do to James, as well.’

  ‘Yes you have. My view is that, secretly, James probably expected you to do something outlandish. Wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?’ There was a hint of mischief in Betty’s voice.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Kate quipped.

  ‘Of course you don’t.’ Betty laughed.

  ‘I suppose you’ve heard the news about the murders here last night.’

  ‘Yes. Spoke to James earlier this morning and he’d already heard from Westmeyer. I gather they’re all in a state of shock.’

  ‘I’m on my way in now, so I’ll see James soon. He told me he’d solved the virus problem.’

  ‘No doubt he’ll fill you in on the details. Seems we were both wrong about Rhonda being behind that, Kate. Melanie Cail was the culprit.’

  ‘Betty, there’s more going on here than I can say right now. But when I’m back in Brizzie I’m going to talk through the whole damn thing with you.’

  ‘You bet you will. I wouldn’t have let you off that hook anyway.’ She gave another brief snort of laughter.

  ‘I didn’t know this when I took off for the Territory,’ Kate revealed, ‘but…it has to do with what happened to Greg.’

  ‘What does?’

  ‘The Institute.’

  There was a silence, hanging briefly but thickly between the two women.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘The Institute isn’t exactly what it appears to be…’

  ‘Lately you have this habit of really worrying me, girl.’

  ‘Got to fly, Bette. Almost there. But before I do, there’s something I wanted to ask, something you’ve probably got on record there…’

  Betty Joel didn’t like the anxiety she detected in Kate’s tone. ‘Ask away, Kate,’ she said.

  Betty’s reply hovered in Kate’s mind as she walked into the Institute. A picture was forming in her mind, a jigsaw she didn’t like. But the pieces were falling into place.

  The receptionist greeted her warmly, the conversation turning to the dramatic news. ‘You’re not going to believe-’

  ‘Already heard,’ Kate said. ‘Couldn’t believe it. I know it’s early but…what have you been hearing around here?’

  The receptionist was eager to gossip. ‘The whole place’s abuzz. Some say this Melanie Cail sent those saboteur faxes, and that Tony went out there to confront her and it turned ugly. Someone else reckons they must’ve been having an affair because otherwise Tony wasn’t the type to go off to someone’s home and challenge them.’

  Kate shook her head, incredulous. ‘Is James in?’

  ‘Yeah. He’ll be glad to see you.’

  Kate smiled and headed for the lifts.

  The motel room was pleasant but Jean Farrow couldn’t relax. She’d lost count of the times she’d paced back and forth, finding trivial things to do – making tea, then coffee, then tea again, listening to snatches of radio and TV, leafing through the motel-issued Northern Rocks tourist brochure.

  She couldn’t have cared less about any of it. She wanted to know what was happening with the police investigation; she felt suddenly useless; if she couldn’t play an active role in uncovering the links between her son’s killers and the scientific institute, then she at least wanted to be close at hand. To observe.

  Hank, on the other hand, was busy. He’d only recently returned from a meeting with the editor of the local newspaper. He’d organised to share their facilities for a small fee. Now he was tapping away on his laptop and planning to call his old employer in Chicago.

  Although a strong and independently minded woman, Jean had never been impulsive. Well, she thought, there’s a first time for everything.

  She picked up her handbag and, as Hank spoke on the phone, his gaze settled on the view beyond the balcony, she left the room and went to Reception . ‘Could you call a taxi for me?’ she asked the girl behind the counter.

  ‘Where’d you like to go?’

  ‘The Westmeyer Research Institute.’

  Adam and Markham arrived at the Institute at 10AM and called first on Reardon. The A.B.C.S. boss was glued to his bank of monitors, one hand holding a mug of coffee, the other darting over mouse and keyboard.

  ‘It’s incredible,’ he said to the two men as though they’d been with him for hours, ‘we installed the network here with specially created “firewalls”. Melanie Cail must’ve sneaked on to the laptop in Stephen’s apartment, and created the hole through which she later launched the virus.’

  ‘So she certainly knew what she was doing,’ Markham commented.

  ‘That’s the thing. She must’ve been a real cyber- head to handle this. It’s the kind of thing I’d expect from people like Rhonda and Kate, but not your average small town journo. And that’s exactly what she intended, that once our investigation reached this stage we’d believe it was the work of one of our own. Goes to show you can never be sure….’ He swivelled in the chair to face them. ‘Heard about these deaths. One mystery solved, another one rears its head for you guys.’

  ‘Did Collosimo say anything to you,’ Adam asked, ‘about suspecting Melanie of the sabotage, or about confronting her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Could he have known,’ Markham wondered, ‘that the ping ID was traced to Melanie’s PC?’

  ‘Don’t see how. I only found out myself, from your lot, this morning.’

  ‘Is it possible,’ Adam changed the subject, ‘that there’s PC’s in a building like this, interacting with the network, but not showing up as “linked” on the control board?’

  Reardon’s reply came with a wink. ‘Adam, if one thing’s certain in computers it’s that anything is possible.’
/>   ‘I’m serious, James.’

  ‘Simply a matter of programming a suppression cloak on those connections,’ Reardon said.

  Leaving Reardon, Adam and Markham inspected the goods lift. It was situated along a rabbit-warren corridor that wove its way behind the labs. There was no reason for anyone to walk the far end of the corridor unless they were heading for the goods lift. And there was no reason to use the lift, unless equipment was being transported.

  Heading back to the front, they encountered Kate.

  ‘Just had a look over the goods lift,’ Adam said. ‘Only shows buttons for the ground and the two upper levels. But there’s another, unmarked button, lower down on the panel.’

  ‘We expect,’ Markham added, ‘that if the lift receives only limited use, and as the button is unmarked, the general staff wouldn’t even know of its existence, let alone have pressed it.’

  ‘I had no idea there was such a button,’ Kate admitted. ‘But then I’ve rarely been in that lift.’

  ‘I’ll check it out,’ Adam said in a lowered voice. ‘Presuming it leads to the hidden level, I’ll take a brief look around and establish it’s safe for a team to go in.’

  Kate took a firm hold of his arm. ‘I’m sorry about last night. Overtired, over-reacted…’

  ‘Forget it. Besides, I’m the one who was out of line.’

  ‘Be careful, Adam. I….never thought everything would lead back here, that it could come to something like this. Please, no chances, no risks. Just be careful.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Costas was sickened by the way in which the words of the gospels had been taken and twisted. Young minds brainwashed into thinking the evil way was the right way, the way of Jesus – when in fact nothing could be further from the truth. And yet, thought Costas, wasn’t that the devil’s MO: to deceive.

  He rested his gaze on the young man sitting on the grass. Daniel was looking to the distant hills and the sky. Despite his upbringing and his conditioning by the cult, Daniel had a strong, natural streak of independence. Costas sensed a goodness at the core of the boy’s soul –Daniel had fallen in love with a girl and had broken free to search for her, even though it went against the grain of everything he’d been raised to believe.

  Detective Megan Shorter had been in touch to say that a special police team, trained in counselling young victims, would be arriving shortly in Northern Rocks.

  Costas would be allowed to go with Daniel to the safe house, to stay with the boy while his situation was being assessed.

  Barbara came up alongside him and linked her arm with his. Costas squeezed her hand reassuringly, smiling at her with warmth and concern.

  After learning of her sister’s death, Barbara had simply held onto Costas, burying her head in his chest and crying until she was spent of tears. Costas understood her sense of guilt and frustration at losing the sister with whom she’d had such a troubled relationship.

  Barbara had said very little about those feelings, focusing instead on the fact that the funeral would need organising, and relatives would need to be advised. These were the painful things that lay ahead of them.

  She looked toward Daniel. Minutes before he’d been kicking a football around with Joey. The boys had been getting in a bit of play before the rain hit.

  ‘I’ve been given an extraordinary opportunity here,’ Costas said, ‘to show him the true ways of righteousness, not the lies he’s been fed by these Keepers.’

  ‘What kind of people would do this sort of thing?’

  Costas shook his head despairingly. ‘The devil’s own.’

  The devil’s own had implicit instructions. Erickson, assisted by Tannen, was to take the boy to the Institute sub-level.

  The tiny darts, fired by the skilled marksman, found their marks. Within ten seconds, Costas, Barbara and the two boys were unconscious, slumping over from their sitting positions in the back yard. They would be out cold for at least an hour.

  The men moved in quickly, lifting Daniel between them and half carrying, half dragging him to the front of the house. Erickson waited as a lone car passed, then he checked the street. No one on the sidewalks, or in the gardens. Further along the street a taxi pulled up and the driver went toward the front door of a house, facing away from them.

  ‘Now!’ Erickson said. They bundled the boy into the van, Erickson keeping his eye on the street. The cab driver had gone into the house. All else was quiet.

  Erickson couldn’t see the woman who waited in the back seat of the taxi, cloaked in shadow.

  Jean Farrow could see them. She watched with idle curiosity as the distant figures of two men assisted a younger male into the van. She saw them look up and down the street before driving away at a moderate speed.

  CHAPTER SIXTY ONE

  Their arrival was swift and smooth, like avenging hawks swooping in.

  Logan Asquith and his team were ferried by chauffeur-driven limousines from Brisbane to Northern Rocks. At the Institute’s entry gate, Donnelly took the place Collosimo would have assumed, escorting the visitors to Westmeyer’s office. The staff had simply been told potential investors would be meeting with the management.

  Asquith was jet lagged, anxious over the information he’d received en route, and champing at the bit for action as he strode in.

  ‘All the data on Delta Chain needs to be backed up to the HQ mainframe.’ Asquith addressed Westmeyer in rapid-fire speech, literally ignoring Donnelly. ‘I’ve brought techs with me experienced in this sort of thing. We’ll need to use the resources of the entire network immediately. There are secure ISDN lines being set up now for the transmissions. William, I’m going to need Hunter and his team to drop everything and assist.’

  Westmeyer stayed calm and presented his view persuasively. He’d been taken aback by Asquith’s hostile entrance but didn’t want to over-react. He didn’t see the need for another “relocation.”

  ‘Logan, I had no idea you were going to come madly rushing in on this. I wanted to talk the issues through with you first. There are strong reasons to reconsider-’

  ‘William, this happens now, and believe me we haven’t got much time. The Delta Chain data must be fully transferred so the operation can be completed elsewhere, and the Institute must be evacuated and destroyed, totally, today-’

  ‘What?’ Westmeyer rocketed out of his seat, all pretence at calm gone. ‘Destroyed? For God’s sake, Logan, why…?’

  ‘The Feds have found links between the Institute, the drowning victims and the croc hunters, both here and in Florida. There’s a Task Force in Northern Rocks right now, ready to tighten the noose.’

  Westmeyer slumped back in his chair. ‘My God…’

  ‘I’m also informed there’s a runaway here, from Vender’s loony farm.’

  ‘Erickson’s gang have located him,’ Donnelly said. ‘They’re bringing him in now.’

  ‘That’s the first piece of good news I’ve had in forty-eight hours. He’ll have to be eliminated, along with the building. There can be no loose ends.’

  All of a sudden Westmeyer felt very weary. ‘Our other work here…’

  ‘Not important. It can be started from scratch and exists primarily, to create the façade that the Institute’s engaged in a multitude of projects. Delta Chain is the only one of vital interest to us.’

  Deliberately turning his back to Donnelly, Asquith continued: ‘There’s several things we need to discuss once you’re fully relocated, William. Your team have collectively dropped the ball on this. Police have been allowed to unravel far too much when it shouldn’t have been remotely possible…’

  Donnelly had been associated with Asquith’s projects since their Vietnam days. He didn’t like being ignored and excluded like this. He wasn’t responsible for the way events had careened out of control. He was the one responsible for ensuring the project had come as far as it had. ‘Logan-’

  Asquith cut across him. ‘Later, Jackson.’ He moved closer to Westmeyer. ‘Call Hunter. We need to mo
ve now.’

  AAT-ATA-TGA-GTA-…the decoder scanned the DNA strand just as a conventional scanner reads a barcode. Only this was the barcode of life itself and the blood molecules under scan had been spliced and recombined, the latest sequence in a line of tens of thousands. These were not the DataStorming ‘virtual’ experiments but ‘actuals’ that DataStorming had flagged for extremely high success potential.

  Whilst the DataStorming program conducted thousands of the virtual experiments each week, Stephen Hunter and his assistants conducted dozens of ‘actual’ experiments, using the lab mice and the stored rodent blood.

  It was, thought Donnelly, a brilliant combination of lab work and computer power, driving the scientific vision of an inventive mind. And he, Donnelly, had been the ‘general’ who’d ensured the entire operation had been able to run so smoothly for so long. An essential cog in the wheel, he deserved to be respected more than Collosimo, or a dumb thug like Erickson.

  Leaving Westmeyer’s office, as Hunter arrived, a fuming Donnelly went straight down to the sub-level. Before the end of the day it would all be gone; reassembled later in a different place with different operatives surrounding Westmeyer, for the final phase.

  But there was still time now, before the “relocation”, to conclude the final experiment and record the data.

  Donnelly had kept his own private stash of discs containing the Delta Chain data. It was his insurance policy should he ever be cut out of the loop. He knew there’d always been a chance of that with Asquith and his Nexus buddies, despite their long association. To them, everyone was expendable, including Westmeyer, but especially the rest of them. If he were pushed aside, if Asquith wouldn’t reconsider, then Donnelly would sell the data to the highest bidder.

  He instructed the sub-level team to proceed as fast as possible.