“Thank you, Frank,” Rashid answered in a rich, elegant voice. “I appreciate your addressing me as Carson, but because of what I will be doing at the United Nations, we should use my Arabic name.”
“Absolutely.” Bridges beamed. “We’ll make it Al-sayyid Rashid.”
“Gentlemen, let us sit down.” Rashid pointed to the chairs around the room, and stopped. “I notice you didn’t bring Bill Marks with you today.”
“No, he’s here, but he’s waiting outside,” Bridges explained. “He’s guarding the hallway beyond this room. You’ll see him when you take the elevator down to the General Assembly.”
Rashid smiled. “Yes,” he said and sat down. “I am concerned to know how your work with intelligence has been progressing. Please deliver your report.”
Bridges snapped his fingers, and Meachem laid a file in front of him. For ten minutes he spoke without stopping.
“You seem to have grasped the assignments I have given you quite well,” Rashid said. “I am pleased with what you have accomplished. However, I understand this country continues to degenerate.” He rubbed his hands together and the diamond pinky ring sparkled. “Is this a problem?”
“We have used unrest as a means to undermine the president of this country,” Bridges answered. “During the recent international crisis, we made the front page of virtually every newspaper in this country, pointing out his inconsistencies.”
“Excellent!” Rashid smiled. “And you have captured this Graham Peck? Right?”
Bridges no longer looked supremely confident. He took a deep breath. “Police surveillance has been reinstated around his home, and I am working on a new use of nanorobots to locate him and his family, but at this point we have not actually captured the man.”
“Actually? I cannot tolerate delay on this front,” Rashid snapped. “This man may seem insignificant to you, but this inconsequential ant is the one person out there with the capacity to expose our operation. Do you understand?”
“Of course.” Bridges sounded embarrassed. “Please know that no effort is being spared to find Peck.”
“It better not be,” Rashid warned. “I don’t care how you find him or capture him. I want this man dead!”
“Yes sir. We will locate him.”
“Don’t let there be any delays!”
“There won’t be.”
Rashid stood up with the irritated look still on his face. “Now I must make a speech that will shake the bricks out of the walls of this place,” he announced coldly. “You must be prepared to stand behind me to reinforce that this is the decisive direction the world must take.”
“Absolutely!” Bridges forced a smile. “I will be with you all the way.”
“Good!” Rashid’s glare shifted immediately to a broad smile. His voice again became soft with a soothing quality. “I will expect completed action on the Peck matter in the immediate future. Gentlemen, are you ready to accompany us down to the General Assembly?”
“Indeed.” Bridges bowed. “We will follow you, sir.”
Rashid marched confidently toward the door. Abu Shad opened it for him, allowing Hassan Rashid to start down the hall toward the elevator. Bill Marks stood on the other side of the door, a distance away from the rest of the guards. Rashid saw him and made eye contact.
Bill Marks smiled and bowed slightly. Suddenly, he straightened and swung a pistol out from behind him. Holding his arms rigid, he aimed at Rashid’s head and fired.
The impact of the bullet sent Rashid flying back into the adjacent wall. Marks fired again. Blood splattered over the wall. The prime minister of Turkey slid to the floor, bleeding profusely.
Marks turned his gun on Bridges, but Meachem knocked the mayor to the floor, and the shot struck a guard standing behind him. Before Bill Marks could fire a fourth time, a United Nations security guard shot him through the heart; he crumbled to the floor only feet from Rashid.
“He’s killed him!” Bridges screamed. “Oh my God! Marks has killed Carson!”
II
DEATH LEASHED
The beast that I saw was like a leopard,
its feet were like a bear’s, and its mouth
was like a lion’s mouth.
And to it the dragon gave his power
and his throne and great authority.
REVELATION 13:2
CHAPTER 23
CONFUSED REPORTS FLEW ACROSS the airwaves like the frantic heartbeat of a fleeing deer as news of the shooting flashed around the globe. Carson’s name had become a household word in virtually every country. While some feared his achievements, many had come to see him as the only hope left for a world caught in continual strife. The news flashes about his near death condition only hyped the rampant fear flooding American towns.
Bill Marks’s shots had struck Hassan Rashid in the head, but not killed him. The prime minister and oil magnate was rushed from the United Nations Building to the nearest hospital. Instant medical attention sustained him momentarily, but no one expected him to live through the day.
The incident propelled Frank Bridges’ relationship with Rashid into headline news as well. While American government officials had suspected a significant link, the public had no idea how important Bridges had become in Carson’s plans. When Bridges took charge immediately after the shooting, it became obvious. Bridges even rushed to the hospital in the same ambulance with Carson. It was now clear Frank Bridges had gained an international prominence even the president of the United States had underestimated.
Bridges paced back and forth outside the emergency surgery room. Abu Shad and other members of the Turkey delegation stayed in another room. Bridges’ white shirt was splattered with blood; the sleeve on his coat had been torn. With hair hanging down over his face, Frank Bridges looked more like the survivor of a Saturday night fight in a nearby bar than the mayor of one of the largest cities in America.
Al Meachem rushed into the room. “They’re installing special biometric computer systems to ensure maximum security in this area of the hospital,” he said. “They’ll want a print of your thumb for digital fingerprinting as well as a voice sample for speech recognition. In addition to what was already in place, this should make this building the most secure in the world.”
Bridges nodded. “Anything come in yet on Marks? I can’t even begin to grasp what happened in his head. The man went nuts! How could he possibly do such a horrendous thing?”
“I don’t know, boss . . . I mean Your Honor. None of us had any idea he was capable of assassination. Bill Marks avoided going through the electronic security check by hanging back and protecting the hallway. Marks didn’t enter the room where Carson spoke with us so he didn’t go through the security machines. He obviously knew exactly what he was doing. Bill sidestepped every device that would have picked up his gun. Because he came in with us, Marks was able to avoid normal detection at the entry door.”
“I want the FBI, the CIA, whoever! I want every agency under the sun on this case. We’ve got to find out what was going on with that idiot!”
Meachem nodded. “We’re after it.”
“And where’s Dr. Paul Gillette? I want that expert on artificial life in here immediately!”
“Mr. Brain didn’t like it, but we forced him into a private jet and he’s on his way here at this moment. I can’t promise when he’ll arrive, but it will be soon.”
“Okay! Okay. Just keep the pressure up.” Bridges pulled Meachem closer to him. “Do you realize that our lives are on the line? If Carson dies, all our plans are dead!”
“I know, I know,” Meachem mumbled. “We’re doing everything possible.”
“Don’t stop!” Bridges growled.
Meachem saluted and rushed out. Bridges kept walking back and forth. Each tick of the clock made him more irritated. In no way could he understand how someone as close to him as Bill Marks could have been capable of an assassination attempt on the most powerful man in the world. Sure, Marks always hung back and said little,
but he had been around the mayor’s office forever. The man was privy to virtually everything going on and had never said one negative word. Marks always appeared to be a team player, a confidant, one of the boys. How could he have performed such a shocking act?
Bridges kept pacing. Beyond the doors he could hear the noise of news reporters jostling the security guards and demanding to get in, but they wouldn’t get through. Whatever was left of Carson’s life was in the balance, and those fools weren’t about to have the opportunity to tip the delicate fulcrum on which survival hung.
The operating room door opened and the surgeon, Dr. James Silver, rushed out. “Rashid’s barely alive,” he told Bridges. “It doesn’t get any worse than this.”
“I wanted you to know that I’m flying in Dr. Paul Gillette from Chicago to help if needed.”
Silver stopped. “You’re talking about the expert in molecular engineering. The nanorobot guy?”
“Yes sir.”
Silver’s eyes widened. “Well, that’s an interesting development. I know something about his work. We might need him before this is over.”
“What do you mean? Level with me, Doctor!”
Silver cast a quick glance around the room to make sure no one was listening. “As you know, the first bullet hit Rashid in the head, but for some reason it didn’t kill him. The second shot went through his right cheek and out the mouth, taking a couple of teeth with it. We have him on life support, ventilators, the works, but we don’t know if he’s even going to be functional.”
“He’s kept alive completely artificially at this time?”
“Exactly. We’ve got a call in to bring in a doctor who’s worked with reverse engineering of the human brain. We want everybody we can get our hands on.”
“To keep him alive?”
“Well, yes,” Dr. Silver said. “We can do that for a limited amount of time. Maybe get him through part of the night, but we’re concerned if he’s going to have any brain function left when this is over.”
CHAPTER 24
AL MEACHEM hustled Dr. Paul Gillette into the waiting room, where Frank Bridges waited for Dr. James Silver to make another appearance. Gillette’s face looked pale and he appeared shaken. Meachem obviously wasn’t on the list of Gillette’s favorite people.
Bridges immediately stood and extended his hand. “Thank you for coming, Dr. Gillette. I’m sure you are aware of the seriousness of this situation.”
“I don’t see how I can be of any help!” Gillette looked angry. “I work in a very different field.”
“Yes,” the mayor said, “I am aware of the differences, but we believe you might be able to provide an important ingredient in saving Borden Carson’s life. We need you to stand by, and you will be compensated for your time.”
“I hope so!” Dr. Gillette crossed his arms over his chest and glanced nervously at Meachem.
Bridges took Meachem’s arm and pulled him to the far end of the room. “Any problem with Mr. Brains over there?”
“He didn’t want to come,” Meachem said. “Our men virtually dragged him out to the airplane.” He shot a glance at the doctor. “I don’t think we’ll have any problem now. He knows where the muscle is.”
“Anything on Bill Marks?”
Meachem nodded. “Yeah. Several men were arrested outside the building hiding in cars along the street. We have determined they were extreme reactionary types and armed with guns. The information’s being checked right now, but it appears they had a connection with Bill Marks. We’ve turned up a strong possibility that Marks had a secret tie with these people who hate everything the government has been doing lately.”
“Oh, man! That’s all I need!”
“Yeah, bizarre twist,” Meachem said. “We’re working the leads right now as hard as we can. We’ve also got people in Chicago trying to find Marks’s wife. The woman has disappeared.”
Bridges stared at Meachem. “She’s gone? Nancy Marks left?”
“Yeah. May have been gone several days.”
The door to the operating room opened again, and Dr. James Silver came back out. Bridges immediately grabbed the arm of his green scrubs.
“Dr. Gillette is here now,” Frank Bridges said.
Silver stopped. “Excellent! Where is he?”
“Dr. Gillette! Come here!”
Gillette slowly walked across the waiting room floor. “Yes?”
“Dr. Silver is one of the doctors keeping Carson alive,” Bridges explained quickly. “He may need your help.”
“I’ve admired your work,” Dr. Silver said and shook hands with Dr. Gillette. “We may indeed need a person acquainted with molecular engineering.”
Dr. Gillette nodded anxiously. “I am at your service.”
“Some brain tissue was destroyed,” Silver explained. “If it can’t be replaced, there’s no way to save this man.”
“Tissue?” Gillette rubbed his chin. “Yes, I understand.”
“You are an expert in such matters,” Silver said. “Can you suggest any possibilities?”
Gillette nodded. “Some years ago I worked with xenotransplantation therapy. We were attempting to remove genes from a sugar called alpha-1-galactose that prompted human rejection of the immune tissue we had developed with pigs.”
“Pigs!” Bridges exploded.
“Yes,” Gillette said. “We mixed swine sperm with human DNA to transfer a gene causing the decay accelerating factor, or DAF. Our work was ultimately successful.”
“What might this mean today?” Dr. Silver asked.
“As strange as it might sound to you, Mr. Bridges,” Gillette said. “We were able to manipulate human genes with pig carriers, producing a transfer of tissue that could be used in developing animal organs for human usage. We dramatically eased the problem of people dying while waiting for an organ donor.”
“What’s this got to do with Carson?” Bridges objected.
“Our work at the Microfabrication Research Laboratory has moved on to brain tissue. I wouldn’t have expected this result, but we may be able to help, Dr. Silver.”
“Extremely interesting,” Dr. Silver mused. “Fascinating.”
“You must understand that’s a significant danger,” Gillette warned. “We are completely on the cutting edge. There’s no guarantee. We could kill Carson.”
“I understand,” Dr. Silver said. “However, without this alternative, I don’t think he’ll live through the night.”
“If you’re willing to take the risk, then I can assist you,” offered Dr. Gillette.
“This procedure must remain top secret,” Silver warned. “I don’t see any alternative but to try it. Please come back and talk with the neurosurgeons. Time is of the essence.”
“Surely.” Dr. Gillette fell in step with Dr. Silver, and they hurried back through the swinging doors.
“We may have saved Carson’s life,” Meachem said.
“And we may have finished him off,” Bridges snapped. “Frightening! We can only watch.”
CHAPTER 25
WITHIN AN HOUR Dr. Paul Gillette called the Microfabrication Research facilities and another private jet was dispatched with the tissue samples Gillette had requested. Even more reporters gathered outside the hospital. Cars slowed when they came down the street. The attention of the entire globe was focused on what was occurring behind the sealed doors of the fifth-floor operating room. As the hours dragged by, the frantic pace around the hospital picked up even more. Police kept the traffic moving, but the eyes of the world remained glued on this singular fa-cility.
Near early evening, Al Meachem returned and found Bridges still sitting in the inner waiting area. “Boss,” he said frantically, “I’ve got an update on Bill Marks.” Meachem plopped down in the overstuffed chair next to the mayor of Chicago. “Our people in Chicago started running the data that came in on a radio-frequency identification device built into the tires on Marks’s car. Basically, companies install those gadgets to help them update their inventories. Th
e chips continue to transmit data unless they’re removed.”
“I didn’t know we used anything like that.”
“We don’t. One of our men came up with the idea and started running it down through our computer system’s link to Goodyear tires. Guess what?”
Bridges shook his head.
“We’ve identified the fact that during the last couple of months, Marks made trips every day to an old abandoned railway warehouse over in Cicero off Highway 56.” Meachem grinned. “The place turned out to be a hideout for these extremist nut jobs. We raided it an hour ago.”
“Yeah?” Bridges sat up in his chair. “Did you find Nancy Marks?”
“Sorry. We didn’t get her, but we picked up files and a truckload of guns. It appears that Bill Marks was into this operation up to his neck. He’d been an inside man for the extremists for months.”
Bridges took a deep breath. “My God! We ran a security check on him several times.”
“Apparently, he passed because this sort of nonsense wasn’t considered a problem back then. At best, that’s all I can figure out now. Marks must have shifted ideologically somewhere along the way but kept his mouth shut. Maybe he was more afraid than he’d admit to any of us. Fear does weird stuff to people. It’s possible all this activity with Carson pushed Bill over the edge.” Meachem shrugged. “It’s only a guess.”
Bridges shook his head. “We’ll know eventually.” He stood up, looked out the window, and stared at the commotion going on in the street below. Intelligence had never been something Bridges lacked. His bright mind had propelled him through the political world at a pace not many could match, but he’d bottomed out in the last decade and seemed stuck in the Chicago mayor’s chair. Nevertheless, the disappointment didn’t keep him from thinking about a grab for the presidency someday. Unfortunately, nothing came together to push him on up the ladder . . . until Borden Camber Carson showed up.
It had been hard for Frank Bridges to call the man Hassan Rashid because he’d known him as Carson from the beginning. They’d met at a highly confidential meeting dealing with the petroleum needs of Chicago. The penetrating stare of the man and his incisive, biting mind had immediately grabbed Bridges’ attention. Almost as if hypnotized by Carson, Bridges had immediately slipped under his spell. Before long, Frank Bridges did whatever Carson told him to do. Not that he was stupid or easily manipulated; Bridges had simply never seen anyone function with Carson’s brilliance and decisiveness.
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