EVER-LIFE
Two Book Set:
The C.P.T Incident
And
Time Trust
By
Andrew
Sarkady
Copyright© 2011, 2013 by Andrew Sarkady
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved and negotiable through author only. This book is solely owned by Andrew Sarkady. Neither the book in total nor in part may be reproduced in any way without the permission of the owner.
All artwork drawn and designed by Andrew Sarkady2011 by Andrew Sarkady
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
TXu1-751-798, April 11, 2011
Author contact info: [email protected]
For Readers Everywhere
Dr. Jack Sheldon, Head of Research, at the Brock/Swanson Medical Complex, has discovered something that will change everything; and billionaire Marion Brock stops at nothing to get it. But, unknown to Brock or anyone on Earth’s surface, deep below the Complex is the futuristic health-base, Ever-Life; and they want it too. Action, suspense, mystery and a love story that reaches beyond the grave mix with science fiction.
Join the cast of characters, as they weave through a labyrinth of provoking puzzles that leads you to the shocking end and wanting more…
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Book I
The C.P.T. Incident
Hope and Love abide with all who believe. May we all believe in the future.
Many people write books to tell a story they imagine. That is fiction today. But, what if someone writes a true story that hasn’t happened yet?
Chapter 1
Risen
It was 1:59 a.m. Nurse Angela Esposito sat in her office, leaning on her elbows and staring at the medical display monitor for room 309. She couldn’t stop thinking about the events of the last several hours. Three straight green lines beeped repeatedly across the black screen from left to right, with no vital signs indicated; no heart, no brain and no blood pressure activity. Angela typed her security code into the computer. Then, she stood up and put a two-inch blue vial into her pocket. She turned, picked up a food tray and walked briskly to room 309. As she opened the door, her eyes popped wide open. She dropped the tray and screamed. Jack Sheldon was sitting upright on the gurney, pulling off the adhesive tabs, intravenous hook ups and bandages, as if they were annoying insects. The nurse barely regained her composure, when Jack sniffed the air, oblivious to the hospital surroundings. He shook his head and looked down at himself.
“Jesus! What is this? And that smell; what is so rotten?”
As he blinked and squinted, the blur cleared; and, he did a side-to-side scan around the room. Then, he looked keenly at the nurse.
“Who are you? Where the hell am I?”
There was no way to describe the look of shock and awe on Angela’s face, as she ran out of the room and down the hallway screaming, “Holy shit! You are supposed to be dead!”
Angela Esposito was the security nurse, in charge of the special ‘focus ward’ on the third floor of Andrews Hospital. The hospital was one of fifteen buildings housed on the highly secure six hundred acre campus of the Brock/Swanson Research Complex. The Complex was located in Arden City, some seventy-five miles south of Albuquerque, New Mexico, in a desert landscape west of White Sands. Andrews, itself, was unique. Unlike any other building, it towered ten floors above ground; and also, it had an elaborate underground construction six stories below.
Like all staff, Angie went through a comprehensive training and security clearance. She was a petite, five-foot two-inch, black haired beauty; a sharp quick thinker, loyal, dedicated and over experienced, for her age. She completed her undergraduate studies in Chicago, Illinois, graduating with highest honors. She had a good friend and mentor in Dr. Mathew Bellos, Chief of the Hospital. He took her under his wing sixteen years ago, after her mother died. Bellos supported her, financially; and he coached her through her residency, medical master’s degree and several private tours. He brought her to Andrews specifically for the lonely, specialized position on ‘focus ward’. Angela performed many secure tasks for Dr. B. over the years, but she never prepared herself, in any way, for what she just saw; a man rise from the dead.
By the time the 32-year-old nurse reached the bathroom, she was gasping for air and beginning to dry heave. Angela could taste the salt of her own tears and the bitter taste of bile that was rising in her throat, as she ran to the toilet and began to vomit. She was dizzy and sat on the floor cheek to bowl, motionless. After several minutes, she felt sufficiently in control to get up and race down the stairs to the nurses’ lounge, on the second floor. Everything started when she received the priority email earlier in the evening:
Time: 10:25 p.m. Andrews Hospital MTUSA
To: Angela Esposito>Focus Ward
From: M.J. Bellos, Chief of Hospital>#001-001
Subject: Immediate Security Priority#01-Response Required #001-Code AO25646
I authorize you to check immediately the security attachments describing protocol #060 for specific instructions regarding emergency arrival of expired bodies resulting from multiple auto accident at 10:15 p.m. Patient #004 will be delivered to ‘focus ward’ room #309. You are to monitor all vital signs and matrix for review by ‘me only’. At precisely 2:00 a.m., you are to personally deliver food tray to room #309 and inject vial #134 [from focus security station box #1120-password: 2fy947t] into the subject’s right carotid artery.
Memorize and delete this mailing.
Mathew J. Bellos
Chief of Hospital, Brock/Swanson Research
Security #01-Code AO25642
At the time, Angie thought, so odd; bodies, monitor; how do I monitor the dead? This isn’t the morgue. Somebody is screwing with me. Why take the food tray? Why inject the syringe? But, the email was from the Chief, himself. Whatever; doing anything for Dr. B. is an adventure.
So, at precisely 2:00 a.m., with her food tray in hand, she walked briskly to room 309.
Now, when the door of the second floor nurses lounge flew open and slammed against the wall, it was obvious to the small group near the coffee machine, that something was very wrong. Every head turned in shock to see a terrified, young, tearful face, crying with no discernable voice, “H-Help me, for God‘s sake.”
Barb Sawyer, floor supervisor, moved quickly to the girl; but, Angie pushed her away and ran to the opposite side of the room, panting, “He was dead; he was dead…Shit!”
Suddenly faint, she fell forward and two nurses caught her; Barb Sawyer, 45-year old, with five years experience at Andrews; and Ralph Walker, 34-year old Princeton graduate, who started at the hospital a year ago. They carefully laid her on the floor; and Barb set her head down onto a small pillow.
“Hay, easy Angie; it’s me, Ralphy.”
Barb looked around at the group; and then, she spoke in a soft whisper, “Angie, tell us what happened. It’s going to be all right.”
“I don’t know; he was in pieces, they reattached his limbs in surgery. I still don’t know why they bothered. The only bones that weren’t broken were in his hands.”
She looked up at Barb almost gasping,
“I got the email. He came to ‘focus’, with no vital signs, no heartbeat. I took the tray in right on time. He just sat up. He looked bloody yes; but, my God, alive.”
Angie squeezed Barb’s wrist.
“It can’t be him, Barb. Oh my God! They must have switched bodies. That’s not Jack Sheldon in 309!”
She began to hyperventilate.
“But why? How could they do that? I had sensors hooked up all over him. There were no indications of any kind; no vital signs! Honestly, he was dead.”
Barb motioned toward the cooler. “Give me water here.”
Then, with stern quiet, Sawyer turned to the rest of the group.
“All of you may leave. We have this. Give her some breathing space, will you? Ralph, get Dr. Bellos for me, please. We need him here stat!”
Chapter 2
Rachel
Rachel Sheldon held her head in her hands, as she slumped in a cold hard ER-1 room chair at Andrews Hospital. She gathered herself; and looked up and around, wiping her eyes, trying to gain her composure. It seemed like everything was happening so fast, but taking so long. There was so much to think about. Images of their lives popped in and out of her head.
When her phone rang at home, earlier around 11:15 p.m., she had been dozing in her favorite lounge on the screened porch, waiting for the garage door to open signaling Jack’s arrival. The two had built a wonderful life together over the years. They first met in Maryland, where Rachel was working her first real job in microbiology as a new team member under Jack. He was the young Director of Government Operations, developing vaccines for what they referred to as ‘orphan diseases’. Their first meeting never would have happened, except that on that night, during a routine procedure, in front of five other experts, Jack’s overwhelming presence caused her to mistake, so obviously, that he had to write her up. Ten ‘write ups’; and you were fired. ‘Write ups’ were posted at the central station for any and all to see. That day, Rachel was devastated to see her name was first, on the list. So, she went to see Jack. She thought she would corner him, after his presentation lecture to funding gurus, on ‘Brain Function and Control, through Chemistry’. She sat waiting outside the locked doors, swelling in anger. As the doors opened, she pushed her way through, almost in a rage; and, once inside, their eyes locked on each other. They argued, nose to nose, for a good forty-five minutes. The rest was mad microbiological love. They became one fantastic creative genius and were married the next January. Rachel gave birth to their only son, in November that year. Today, Brian Sheldon is a graduate of Georgetown University Law; and he is personal apprentice in Washington D.C. to Marion Brock, philanthropic billionaire and co-founder of the Brock/Swanson Research Complex.
During the Complex’s construction, Jack and Rachel built their dream home on seventy acres, conveniently located ten miles from Andrews. Their beautiful swimming pool and botanic garden were center to a U-shaped stone four-bedroom ranch, where they managed fifteen to twenty horses at a time. They had three working ranch hands and one full-time housekeeper. In the basement of the house, they furnished a completely self-sufficient private laboratory, with state of the art equipment, so Jack could continue home research. Over the years, they and their research teams at the Complex were responsible for a stunning thirty medical breakthroughs pioneered and patented with their long time partner, Dr. Mathew Bellos.
Rachel was an attractive woman. She just turned forty-four last month. She had medium blond hair sprinkled with just a tad gray here and there. The creases around her eyes spoke of many happy times when she smiled. She was five-foot, two-inches and had a strikingly beautiful figure.
Jack had an almost buff like appearance, at the age of forty-six, standing six feet tall. His olive complexion fooled most into thinking he was Italian, rather than French. He had a magnetic demeanor and the looks to match. His full head of hair was graying at the temples; and there was no mistaking that smile, or curt staunch look, when he was concentrating or guiding his team. Years ago, Jack’s young talents brought him the highest achievements tenured at Johns Hopkins. His career soared after receiving awards for genetic analysis, during those government contract years. Eventually, his expertise brought him to Brock /Swanson as Head of Research. They were the quintessential couple; and they had all the amenities befitting their extraordinary expertise.
It was hours ago that Rachel awoke from her cell phone ringing.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Sheldon?”
“Yes.”
“This is Ron Sandry at Andrews Hospital. I’m sorry to call at this hour, especially to tell you this.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mr. Sheldon, Ma’am. He was in a car accident. It’s bad, Mrs. Sheldon. You’d better come. I really don’t know what to say. Dr. Bellos told me to call you. He’s with him now. That’s all I know.”
“I’m on my way. Where should I go?”
“Doctor said you should go to ground floor ER-1. He will be there as soon as he can.”
^^^^^^^^^^^
Now, at 2:30 a.m., Rachel paced in the private room. Three different doctors spoke to her in the last two hours but the news was not good. Jack was in isolation surgery; and, Rachel was shaking, trying to think.
Accept Jack’s death? Even if he lives, life will be so different. What would he want me to do? Matt, I need Matt! Where the hell is he?
She did not want to fathom any of this. Still somehow, she had ingrained within her the Pollyanna notion that all would be okay.
…There has to be something; maybe what we have done in our work could help. After all, Jack; Honey, we cured the common cold and proved the impossible possible, right?
“Hmm, Rachel think, damn it.”
She pushed the nurses call button; no reply and no one came. Finally, she went to the bed and lay down hoping to drift into sleep.
Chapter 3
Nurses Lounge
Back in the second floor nurses lounge, before Ralph Walker could page him, Dr. Mathew Bellos moved quickly into the room. Bellos was fifty-two years old, six feet tall and 185 pounds. He was average to describe, but impressive at first sight. He was a complicated man, very educated, extremely talented and creative, with a background to envy. Most of all, he was a visionary and persuasive. His ancestor worked with Jonas Salk, researching the Polio vaccine. Consequently, his family had some notoriety through the years. After his parents died in New Mexico, young Bellos moved to Washington D.C. and earned Master’s Degrees in both ‘Genetic Analysis’ and ‘Organic Chemistry’. He also acquired a PhD in ‘Political Philosophy’. His unusual expertise and commanding presence was attractive and welcomed into the Washington elite. His published work, ‘Viruses to Recover Life’, made Bellos popular worldwide. Finally, at the Brock /Swanson Complex, Mathew Bellows reigned as Chief of Andrews Hospital. The buck stopped with him. Over the years, Bellos mentored and hired many of the hospital staff. Tonight, during the horrific early morning hours, news spread quickly throughout the Complex about Dr. Jack Sheldon’s arrival. Overall, in the hospital’s hierarchy, the entire staff thought of Jack, Rachel and Bellos as ‘the big three’. However, only a select few knew his injuries were fatal.
The moment Dr. Bellos entered the nurse’s lounge; he went to Angie and the two doctors holding her. He shielded them from the others, who again began to huddle around and watch.
“Angie, Angie; it’s me, Dr. B.”
Her whole face changed, when she looked up at him.
“Dr. Bellos, I’m so happy to see you. Listen to me. I was in focus 309. I did everything you instructed. He was…”
Bellos placed his forefinger to his lips and smiled.
“Shush, it’s okay.”
He embraced and lifted her. She noticed that he was applying unusual pressure to her upper arms, guiding her out of the lounge, toward a security guard. Bellos spoke firmly but quietly, “Please take Miss Angie to my office and stay with her until I get there. Give her anything she would like. If she is hungry, order from the kitchen. Let her relax. I will be there as soon as I can. And give her privacy; wait outside.”
Angie was even more confused, and
trembled, as the guard began to lead her away, slowly. Nurse Sawyer stepped in front of Dr. Bellos and whispered to him trying to recount the story’s bits and pieces.
Bellos interrupted, “Nurse, you didn’t hear anything but the ravings of an emotionally unstable woman. Unfortunately, Angela Esposito has had a problem lately, of which I’ve only become aware of recently. She has been, allegedly, abusing her access to the private prescriptions on ‘focus ward’. It’s very sad, and a highly secure issue, because of the particular hallucinogenic involved. So, we didn’t have this conversation, Barb. We have invested a lot here, and we need her. We all need her. Listen, Barb, I need to get her through this as quietly as possible; make her rehabilitation work. Are you with me here? ‘I’ will handle this.”
“Yes, of course; she seemed stressed yes, emotional yes; but, believe me; she was coherent. Look, Dr. Bellos, there are so many things I don‘t know about your precious ‘focus ward’; but I know people; and she wasn‘t on drugs.”
“Well, I hope you don’t make me pull rank. I’ve told you more than I should already.”
Bellos turned to walk away; and then he stopped, and turned back. With one eyebrow raised, he put his hand affectionately on Barb’s shoulder.
“We have bigger problems, Barb. Please, work with me here. I have to go. Use that talent of yours to calm these people. Let them know that this is a special security situation. Nothing goes beyond this room, all right?”
Sawyer was a professional, loyal trooper, yet always the skeptic. She blinked and nodded, “Right.”
Bellos paused again, as though he just had an epiphany. He looked deeply into her eyes and said, “You’ve been here five years and have a great record, Barb. You know more than most about everything here, don’t you?”
“I like to think I’m up to date.”
Ever-Life the Two Book Set: The C.P.T Incident and Time Trust Page 1
