“Well, until we sort this out, I am reassigning you. You are the only other person I trust, with the qualifications and experience to oversee ‘focus ward’. Report to me at 4:00 p.m. sharp, this afternoon in my tenth floor office. Meantime, check your computer and read all the ‘redirect security protocols’ involved. We will discuss your specific duties and access codes at that time. Please be prepared to perform, on a 24/7 basis.”
It was close to three a.m.; Bellos sped off to the elevator. Barb Sawyer stood, in shock, at the lounge door, watching Angie and her guard, disappear down the hallway.
Chapter 4
Total Recall
Dr. Mathew Bellos entered the elevator and pushed ER-1. He could not help thinking about his history with Rachel and Jack over the years.
Their first meeting took place while working at V.I.R.A.I.D., Viral Infection Research and Internal Development. At that time, it was a sub-contracting company to the Defense Department. Each of them worked in different specialized DNA laboratories. Jack and Rachel’s team were developing a new military concept. The premise was that too much testosterone with adrenaline caused over aggression, which was the basis for military behavior. Their objective was to suppress these two chemicals, in the body, by deploying a gaseous contagion during combat. Rachel and Jack isolated and defined formulas that, if proven correct, would prevent these hormones from secreting within ten seconds. The distribution perimeters were within a hundred square yards. If they succeeded, the target troops could not fight; no fighting, no war. This effort was to be the foundation, upon which, Jack would later define ‘chemical personality controllers’.
At that same time, young Dr. Bellos’s team was researching ‘dormant viruses’ reactions to various stimuli. A virus can lay dormant for thousands of years; and then, with proper stimuli, it can become active; alive again. His research team progressed to reactivate not only several viruses, but also, some rare bacterial subjects. Eventually, Bellos hoped to create a practical use for his findings; like transporting donor organs or limbs for transplant, without the need of refrigeration. Later, Bellos would hypothesize that death itself was an illness; and the cure lay in the viral world. Anyway, Jack and Rachel were attending a three-day V.I.R.A.I.D. convention, and Mathew Bellos was the preceding Keynote speaker. What he said profoundly moved them. They forced a meeting with him; and, after finding out they had so much in common, the three bonded. They became unmatchable research team leaders.
Bellos mind drifted as he rode in the hospital elevator. He thought about how it all seemed so convoluted now. Jack’s C.P.T. discovery changed everything. Recently, especially, Bellos had become so embroiled with it all. He thought back to his life changing morning years ago on May 12…
**********
That morning Dr. Mathew Bellos was enjoying a cup of coffee and a croissant at the small sidewalk café, Gus’s Coffee, in Santa Fe, New Mexico; his hometown. It was not long after he began working at the Complex. He was excited about his new position, at Brock/Swanson, and relieved to get away from the east coast political arena. As he sipped his Santa Fe espresso, he noticed a rather stiff looking man sit down at the small round table next to him. Although dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, the man was obviously not from the southwest. He looked around forty; appeared stuffy and well mannered; but, somehow, reminiscent of the FBI types, within the Washington D.C. crowd. The man made no eye contact; however, at one point, Bellos felt like he was being x-rayed. After five minutes or so, the man got up and quickly dropped the daily issue of the Santa Fe Gazette, onto Dr. B.’s table. Bellos startled and looked at the man, with some confusion. The man smiled, nodded; and then, just like that, he was gone. Bellos remained perplexed, for a moment, feeling an adrenaline rush. Then, his eyes saw a slip of yellow ‘post it’, wedged in the newspaper. He took it out, unfolded it and read:
Mathew Bellos: You have been chosen for a high purpose. We want you as our ally in the struggle to preserve and better humanity. It is urgent you phone me @...
There was a small iconic signature stamped at the bottom of the note that looked like an old Christian fish symbol, with a dollar sign before it. Questions haunted him on and off all day. That evening, in the privacy of his office study, Bellos made the phone call that would change his priorities completely. A voice answered, “Bridger here…”
Bellos froze for a second.
“Yes, I am Dr. Mathew Bellos. Ah; one of your people approached me this morning. He asked me to call this number.”
“Oh yes, Dr. Bellos; that wasn’t one of my people; that was me. I am Tom Bridger. I apologize for the cloak and dagger. So glad you made the call, though. We can never be sure of our response rate, from first meetings. When you learn about our organization, you’ll understand.”
Bellos was hardly interested.
“I called because the cryptic method you used haunted me; but frankly, I’m not interested in solicitations of any kind; thank you.”
“Dr. Bellos, we are on the verge of making one of the most important announcements in the history of medicine. Perhaps it is the most important announcement in all history, but we need you. I am not exaggerating in any way.”
“I really don’t have any idea what you are talking about.”
“Doctor, why do we become medical researchers? Why do we fight disease? What is your goal in medicine? Please, I cannot discuss this over the phone. I assure you, I am sincere. We must meet. It will not just change your life; you will fulfill your destiny.”
“This is a ridiculous conversation. I am not going to commit myself to some drama that sounds like a lottery to me. Good bye.”
As Bellos pulled the phone away from his ear, he heard, “Doctor, your father and great grandfather were one of us. We are your family.”
Bellos pushed the phone back against his ear.
“Doctor, please; I know your history. We have to meet. Doctor Bellos, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“I can’t say anymore. Anyone could be listening. You know that. I assure you, I am not a fake. This is not a scam. Will you meet me at the same café, tomorrow; say at 7:15 a.m.; come on, Doc?”
“Hmm, if this is so damn important and secret, why the café; why out in the open?”
“Because we know it is secure, Doctor. We own it, and the surrounding five stores on each side of the street. We don’t own the airways or the phone lines.”
“Oh.”
Leery of it all, and with a slight grin, Dr. B. slowly hung up the phone, and he sat back, bewildered.
The next morning at seven o’clock, Bellos walked to the café. He was nervous, uneasy, and he studied his hometown street, as if for the first time.
They own all the stores around the café, and on both sides of the street?
Usually, there was a line of people stretching out the door, to buy morning sweets and hot drinks. But, that morning, as Bellos walked up to the outside deck, there was only one single person, who sat at a table outside ‘Gus’s Coffee’, Bridger.
“Good morning, Doctor.”
Bridger extended his hand.
“Good morning.”
“Please, have a seat. I hope you don’t mind; I bought you an espresso and donuts.”
Bellos sat down on the wrought iron chair.
“Thank you. Now tell me, why am I here?”
“Yes of course, I’m Tom Bridger, a recruiter, so to speak. I represent an organization that has been in existence, for a very long time, millennia actually, by your standards. Please excuse me if I seem uneasy. You see; I know how what I am about to say will sound.”
Bridger smiled, and then he took a deep breath before explaining.
“We have been involved in, and continue to influence most modern countries’ medical and political systems. Medical advancement is our purpose, and politics is the vehicle we use to fund ourselves. In other words, for many centuries, the civilized world, all over the globe, has prospered, using our medical discoveries. Anyway, you’
ll learn as you go.”
“What?” Bellos sat looking a bit annoyed.
“The thing is; it’s only been within the last 800 years that things have become really interesting. We are the richest, most advanced, research development organization on the planet. I am authorized to tell you that we are on the verge of announcing the greatest of discoveries. It will be the answer to why we all got into medicine.”
Bellos’s eyes widened and he said cynically, “Really; I got into medical research to combat disease and improve the human condition. What question or answer are you talking about?”
Bridger did not react. He just smirked and said, “We have followed your career and those of your colleagues for some time, examining and reexamining your work. We need your help, and you need us. This is the end of a 10,000-year-old journey, and the beginning of a new era for all humankind. Doctor, this is not some Hollywood nonsense or C.I.A. undercover plot to overthrow a country.”
“Well it sounds like wild science fiction bullshit to me.”
“Perhaps; but it isn’t.”
Bridger took an envelope out of his rear pant pocket.
“Here, this is for you. We crossed out some words, for security purposes; but you’ll get the gist. There is also an airplane ticket. If you decide to go, you will be shown what I mean. Only one person has authorization to do that, and he awaits your arrival.”
Bellos unfolded the papers and looked through them.
“My instructions are to ask that you read the first page now, and the rest on the plane.”
Bellos read quickly; then, with a furrowed brow, he shook his head in disbelief as he pulled a wad of money from the envelope.
“Oh yes,” Bridger added, “there’s also $200,000. A bit of petty cash. You keep that, whether you go or not. If you don’t want to go, give me the paperwork back. That’s it Doc.; now or never; no more talk, until you reach destination.”
Bellos looked at Bridger and then rolled his eyes. “Jesus, this is insane.”
^^^^^^^^^^
Twelve hours later that same day, Mathew Bellos reached the front stairs of the United States Capital building in Washington D.C. He spent some time, sitting on the concrete stairs, overlooking the downtown campus, while reflecting upon his past there. The streets were unusually quiet, for that time of day. Nevertheless, as instructed, he stood by the curb, at 7:30 p.m., waiting for a white stretch limousine to stop and pick him up. Bellos scrutinized every vehicle that passed. Then, completely startled, he felt a hand on the back of his shoulder, and he heard a soft baritone voice.
“Good evening Dr. Bellos. Thank you for being so punctual.”
As Bellos spun around, he had to look up to see the face that matched the voice. A handsome, six-foot three, white haired man, looking about sixty, stood before him wearing clear plastic rimmed glasses. Bellos reacted with grace and charm.
“Good evening; yes, I am Dr. Bellos.”
“I am Gordon Swanson, Doctor. I must apologize for all the mystery, but our history, our purpose and our success are beyond security, as you understand it. I promise, I will explain everything.”
A white limousine pulled up to the curb in front of both men. The driver got out, walked around and opened the back door. Swanson gestured politely to Bellos.
“Please, Doctor, come; we will talk.”
Both men got in the back. It was a cabin fit for a king. Bellos had never seen any vehicle like this, and he quickly studied as much of it as he could. Swanson sat and simply uttered two words, “Master secured”.
Bellos listened to several clicks and saw blinking lights on all the consoles go on. And several windows became monitors, displaying video and strange characters, which he didn’t recognize as language. There was no audio.
“I just activated security protocols. That’s all. ”
At the same time, a small, sleek, automatic drink dispenser raised up from the floor and made two perfect martinis.
“Here, Mathew, you will want this.”
The driver slowly made a U-turn and sped off.
Bellos couldn’t help but start. “Look, Mr. Swanson…”
“It’s just Swanson.”
“Yes well, Mr. Bridger told me a few things that certainly would interest anyone. He was very persuasive and the money, well, thank you, but ... But, I have many questions?”
Swanson turned, from looking out the window at the night sky, and spoke, “I’m here to answer your questions, and to determine, if you are truly suitable for our organization, our society really. You see, Mathew, we have monitored you and two of your colleagues, for quite some time. We know you have what we want; and, we are certain we can provide you with all that you need.”
“What exactly does that mean? Your man Bridger said the same thing. I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Swanson turned to view the Washington Monument.
“Did you know, Doctor; it’s been said that at the time of its construction, this city was designed to impress and outshine all other cities in the world? That is one reason we finally settled a key Post, underground here.”
Bellos was anything but impressed.
“Yes, the city is beautiful; basic American history. Wait a minute. What did you say about underground?”
“You could say we have been 10,000 years in the making. Did Bridger tell you how old we are?”
“Not really; that I remember.”
“Our organization has outlasted most cultures on the planet. We research and develop medical breakthroughs, to preserve and improve humanity. Now, our new campus of facilities is nearly complete, in the Southwest United States; quite close to where you grew up, and we are recruiting. Ours is a society, of sorts, but not a democracy. It is; well, a sort of monarchy, in your terms. We have only one absolute authority; one person, who is responsible for all matters and everyone.”
“We call that a dictatorship.”
“No, far from it, actually; today, it happens to be a man; but, there have been women; famous women, who have been great leaders. It is truly amazing, when I think about how many people live on Earth’s surface, dutifully working double lives. They research for a country, and for us. It is through their loyalty and commitment that we’ve been so successful, for so long.”
“Sounds like treason,” Bellos replied. “We’re not at war; that’s absurd. All of us, with half a brain, know standard ethics; not to mention signing non-disclosure pledges.”
“I suppose,” said Swanson. “Ah yes, non-disclosure pledges, those are the documents that grant government and corporate dictatorships power over people. They are ‘insecure institutions’ that survive by competing. They all require control in order to assure profit, in the end; management by fear. Unlike them, we neither hold creativity captive nor, subtlety, blackmail our employees. We are completely ‘secure’. Let’s say, for example, a corporate researcher discovers something quite stunning. But he’s not allowed to share the information, bound by confidentiality. It may have remained hidden for years, decades. Eventually, at some time in the future, your global communication media finds out and announces it. All of a sudden, it’s news-out of the closet. Within a month or year, it becomes a standard across the globe, right? We all benefit, right? Think of what we do as shortening the whole time phase. We do not cheat or steal profits. We expedite discoveries to the public, and share in the wealth from the beginning; when we know we can. Actually, as it turns out, we help grow corporate and government profits, faster. You will understand as you go.”
“Wait a minute,” Bellos said. “Let me understand this. So you are recruiting? Why would I consider such a thing? You say, you built here in the D.C., underground in the 1800s, when the city as we know it was constructed, right? Look, I hope you did not spend this money and time to give me a history or economic lesson?”
“Actually, Mathew, I brought you here for many lessons, and to show you something that will change you. We are at a turning point of deciding whether to…”
> Swanson stopped and stared at Bellos. He sighed and then continued.
“…You see, Mathew, one of your colleagues is in the process of refining a hypothesis that when made public, or the wrong people get a hold of it, well chaos frankly, terror. For the first time in our history, we have to decide whether to assist him, or stop him. It is quite contradictory to what I just described to you. You are part of it, you see. You have contributed, you see. I know you don’t understand your part in this, yet; but, even your viral research has components that, when put together with your colleague’s data, well, the potential medical wonders for the future are unmistakable. Although you both have worked separately, together, you both have stumbled onto what we discovered, refined and kept silent for at least 2500 years, by your timeline. We certainly didn’t expect this from any surface researcher. I neither exaggerate nor mock you in anyway. If nothing else, the $200,000 petty cash was to impress you that what I tell you is not to be taken lightly.”
“My timeline? What do you mean by that?” Bellos scratched his head. “Why are you afraid of this ‘hypothesis’ you speak of?”
“Because it could threaten the balance of life on the planet, my boy; I wish I could give you all the knowledge right now; but, please, do try to have more ear than mouth.”
Bellos rolled his eyes and then swallowed the Martini in one gulp.
“What is this secret that you and Bridger speak of, anyway?”
“Well, as you said, first things first. It seems the more I say, the angrier you become. I wish to educate you, not sour you. Patience Doctor, patience.”
Swanson smirked. “Perhaps you’d like another Martini?”
“No.”
“Frankly, when I think about it from your point of view, it is very spooky and cryptic. I’ll give you that. I wouldn’t want to listen to me either, but it is worth it. It’s well worth it.”
The limo rounded Madison Street and turned into an alley. Swanson took out his key fob and pushed a button.
“Mr. Mike, are we ready?”
Ever-Life the Two Book Set: The C.P.T Incident and Time Trust Page 2
