The Return of the Watchers (Armageddon Rising Book 1)

by Denny Bennett

  Armageddon Rising

  Return of the Watchers

  Denny Bennett

  ©2014 All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means without the express written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  One

  The alarm sounded on the sequencing machine and Dorian wondered if he would ever find the answers he was searching for. “Can you stop that for me,Yuki?” he asked of his lab manager. The familiar beeping sounds coming from the equipment were accompanied by the sterile smell of the chemicals and reagents that permeated the air. Yuki set down her pipette after withdrawing a small amount of liquid and walked towards the control panel terminal. Quickly pressing several fingers on the touch screen interface (she could do this in her sleep), the machine emitted the affirmative whirring sound signifying it was reset and prepped for another batch of samples. Yuki was a young, beautiful, Japanese student with a slender body and long black hair. She spoke softly with an accent, yet her English was quite understandable. It had been two and a half years since Dorian began as a researcher and associate professor teaching Molecular Genetics at the University of Michigan, and he was becoming impatient with his progress. The task of researching a cure for Huntington’s disease was slow and arduous; things were not going as smoothly as he had expected prior to undertaking this position.

  “A fresh start, a chance to run my own lab,” he'd thought back then. Only now he had to deal with lectures, budgetary issues, outdated equipment, grant proposals, and desperate students vying for a spot in his lab. At his last job the pressure was immense, the hours were long, and the ability to research to his heart’s desire was limited. It was not long after his discovery that he decided it was time to leave; management was becoming suspicious and the idea well was drying up. Not to mention the fact that he was running out of excuses as to why he didn’t seem to get any older with the passage of time. Sometimes the grass isn’t greener on the other side; it’s just a different shade of brown, and today was no exception. “Dr. Lystad, we’re running low on reagent, we only have enough for two more runs,” Yuki said in a depressed tone. Running the lab was expensive, even with free labor from some of the students. Still, the reagent was something they could afford, and one person was in charge of keeping the stocks adequate. “Engel?” Dorian called out to his junior researcher his in a sarcastic, questioning tone, looking over at him as if to say ‘Why the hell are we almost out of reagent again?’ Engel acted like he hadn't been paying attention to their conversation. “Something up?” he asked carefully, realizing he was on thin ice.

  “I hope for your sake that Yuki is imagining that we're almost out of reagent and that you have some stashed elsewhere,” Dorian replied. “I’ll look into it, but I’m pretty sure I ordered plenty this time,” he muttered in an unsure voice. Dorian glanced back at him. “You’re killing me, man.” Yuki interrupted. “Dr. Lystad, after these last two runs I am going to leave early, if I may. I have some personal issues to attend,” she stated in her typical polite and formal manner. “That’s fine. I’ll need the data compiled by Kasia before you leave; make sure you drop it off with her,” Dorian said.

  It was 20 minutes until two o’clock in the afternoon and Dorian had to make his way over to the lecture hall in the medical science building. He grabbed a turkey sandwich from the shared refrigerator and choked it down while gathering his notes, then headed for the door. Just as he was walking out the door he stopped in his tracks and turned back.“Engel..Engel!” he yelled, food flying from his mouth. “He’s probably getting drunk, as usual,” Kasia quipped through the doorway from the computer station adjoining the research lab.

  “Yuki, tell him I want a copy of the purchasing invoice for the supplies on my desk by the time I get back,” he snapped in an angry tone. Dorian barely caught the bus that went to the other side of campus. Fortunately, it had been delayed by all the snow they had been getting.

  Back at the lab:

  “Where’s Dr. Lystad?” Engel asked, knowing Dorian was at a his two o’clock lecture. “He told me to tell you that you need to get a copy of the invoice for our supplies on his desk before he gets back. He also wanted you to clean the lab up,” Yuki said with a wry smile. “Nice try, Yuki. It wasn’t my fault this time. I went into Gregorovich’s lab and found out they’ve been 'borrowing' (his hands gesturing quotation marks) “some of our supplies. Lystad is going to be pissed,” he proclaimed in a triumphant voice. “I will be leaving in a few minutes; I have already informed Dr. Lystad. Please take the samples out after the sequencer finishes and give the data to Kasia for processing,” Yuki said, in a loud enough voice for Kasia to hear. Kasia's small head slowly peered out of a cubicle in the adjoining room, lights reflecting off her glasses. “I heard you were out of reagent so I just made plans to meet my sister for lunch. What the hell is wrong with you people?” she yelled. Kasia, as it turns out, was short for katarzyna in her native Polish tongue; however, no one could pronounce it properly so she remained Kasia, and occasionally, Kathy. She was another PhD. hopeful, whose area of expertise was bioinformatics. Her short brown hair, small frame, and thick, coke bottle-like glasses that hung near the tip of her nose were the characteristics of a stereotypical librarian. The three made up the full time graduate students in Dorian’s lab. Yuki was the most professional amongst them; Engel the least. Kasia was somewhere in the middle, and often they would argue amongst themselves the way siblings do. Today was no different. “Why do you always have to ruin my day?” Kasia whined at Engel.

  “What are you blaming me for? I ordered enough reagent, it’s not my fault someone’s been swiping it,” he moaned. “Here’s an idea-- why don’t you ask us before you go off making plans instead of assuming we’re finished? That way you won’t end up-” Her eyes widened as she interrupted him. “Why don’t you drown in your beer mug? That way I won’t have to do it for you by dragging you to the bottom of the river!” she snapped. Several students in the lab laughed out loud at their bickering. Engel wasn’t particularly accustomed to exchanging barbs. Growing up as an only child, he mainly thought of Kasia as an annoying little sister he never wanted to have.

  At 29, he appeared to be the oldest in the lab, even older looking than Dorian. That could be attributed partially to his drinking habit, and to his life spent on the road as a guitarist touring with a group known as the “SOES Bandits”. He had that California surfer-dude look, complete with long, sandy-blonde hair, beard stubble that changed from week to week, loose, hole-infested jeans, Converse shoes, and well worn t-shirt; the whole grunge-look of the 1990’s. Fortunately, for the lab patrons, he didn't smell like the sewer he looked to have crawled out of. While the two exchanged pleasantries, Yuki gathered her things and made her way out of the building, laughing at their bickering. She was quite accustomed to the noise of squabbling siblings; it made her feel more at home. Carrying herself like the gentry, she avoided parti
cipating in juvenile antics and arguments with other students. Her demeanor emanated an upbringing of class; one that implied she came from money. In fact, her family at one time had been extremely wealthy; her great-grandfather had founded Sukekuni Supply, expanding it into an international medical supplier that her father now ran.

  With the downfall of the Japanese economy, however, her family had lost some control of the company through consolidation of shareholders, along with a great deal of their wealth. Not wanting to go into the family business, she had decided to pursue her passion for science and study abroad. Already on her way to earning her PhD. in proteomics at 24, she was a valuable asset to the lab. She took the commuter bus to the student parking lot and began the slow drive over to metro airport. Arriving several hours later due to the traffic and snow, she made her way through the terminal passing through security without difficulty. The plane was full despite the exorbitant cost of a ticket; mainly the result of many airlines going under and current oil prices.

  Her flight was short, about one hour to JFK airport. A limousine driver holding a placard with her name on it was waiting for her.

  “I hope your flight was acceptable ma’am,” the driver said politely.

  “It was fine, thank you,” she replied softly. “It's not very safe right now in New York, so I'll do my best to get us there in one piece,” he said with a nervous laugh. She had only been to New York, one other time, as a young child, and was trying to take in as much of the sights as possible, but it was difficult to enjoy with her nerves on edge. Part of her wished that she had never agreed to do this in the first place. Although she maintained some illusion of wealth in front of her friends, the truth, despite her father’s unsuccessful attempts in hiding it, was that her family had accumulated a considerable amount of debt and this meeting might provide an opportunity to get out of it. At least, her father thought so.

  The winters had become more brutal with each subsequent year and today was no exception. In early-mid December, the sun was barely shining. The sky was mostly overcast and looked as if storm clouds were forming, the perfect way to set the day off. As they traveled to their destination she witnessed various protests going on along the way; some were passive, with protestors beating drums, marching, and shouting through megaphones, while others were more violent, with bottles being thrown, tires set ablaze and windows smashed. Picket signs with just about every political stance and ideology were on display, from anti-capitalistic and anarchistic, to constitutionalist, and libertarian. Police in riot gear and armored vehicles were lined up opposite the protestors; waiting for the opportunity to pounce on their prey. As the limo continued on, they passed by long lines of people-- many of whom had lost their homes due to the economy-- waiting at the food banks and shelters. The splendor that was once New York City had been tarnished, the latest in a long list of major cities that had fallen into oblivion.

  As the driver pulled underneath the covered awning of the hotel, she felt a bit of nausea and butterflies in her stomach. He stopped the limousine and opened the car door for her. Several heavily armed guards flanked the doorman, who stood at the entrance to the hotel holding the door open. Graffiti was being removed from the façade of the building by several workers outside, a seemingly endless task as the gangs were becoming more prolific than ever. She picked up her pace as the wind and snow whipped up, feeling pity for the workers who had to stand outside to open the door for guests as they entered. “At least they have jobs,” she thought. The hotel was opulent, with hotel with marble floors, soothing music, and elegant décor. She headed straight for the ladies' room to compose herself before meeting her host Right now she just needed some privacy, but she wouldn’t get it here with the restroom attendant sitting nearby staring at her. She fixed her hair, adjusted her skirt and blouse, then took a deep breath. After checking her makeup and gathering her thoughts, she tipped the clerk and slowly made her way towards the door, all the while wondering what this meeting was all about. The more she thought about it the less comfortable she became. All Yuki knew about Theodore Dantanian was that he was the largest private venture capitalist in Europe, and that he was willing to pay generously for information. It had begun two days ago when she was contacted by her sister Aki, who was at home in Fujinomiya, Japan, a short distance away from Mt. Fuji. Aki was also a student at the university, and the two of them shared an apartment in Ann Arbor. Aki was home for the winter break, visiting friends and family. Yuki was curled up on her couch in the apartment with her blanket and tea, having just booted her laptop, when the call came from her sister. “Father called me to tell you to look at the email he sent,” Aki said. “What is so important that he needs me to check my email now?” Yuki asked. “How should I know? He barely talks to me, let alone you. He probably wants to ask if you got the Christmas present he sent.” Ever since Yuki decided to pursue genetics as a profession, her father was disappointed that she chose another path apart from the family business. Her sister was another source of concern for Yuki's father; he feared that she might somehow influence Aki into avoiding her duty to her family as well. “How is everything there?” Yuki inquired. “Did you hear on the news? Mt. Fuji is having major tremors again,” Aki said in a worried voice. “I heard. I was reading about it on the internet this morning.” “I know we’ve seen this before, but this time I’m pretty sure it’s going to go off and wipe us all out,” Aki added, with surprisingly little concern that her prediction might come to fruition. “Well, if that happens at least you won’t have to worry about exams anymore.” Yuki replied in a similar tone. The last decade had so many disasters and deaths that most people were apathetic toward just about anything; a sort of global numbness had taken root. Scientists were under pressure not to cause mass panics, but that approach often led to significant casualties. The frequency of tremors and smoke coming out of the mountain was enough to have everyone on edge there, especially after the devastating eruptions in Iceland, Chile, and Indonesia. “I think something bad might happen this time. I tried to convince father to prepare but he won’t listen,” Aki said, frustrated with her father's stubbornness. “I’ll have a talk with mother. Hopefully, she will persuade him to do something.”

  “Yeah, she'll persuade him to throw us into the volcano and sacrifice the two of us so they can retire in peace,” Aki joked. They both laughed. Yuki said her goodbyes, then looked at the email letter that had the Japanese characters for “Important” in the subject line. She opened the email and read the following message. “Yuki, there is something that I need for you to do for our family. I was contacted through a business associate of mine regarding a person of interest that you are working with. A wealthy European businessman has some knowledge of your research and the professor you are working for. His name is Theodore Dantanian and he would like to discuss a proposal with you in person. From what I am told, he is a venture capitalist who has backed many companies in the past and is aggressively financing biotechnology firms. It may be a long shot, but this meeting could be a very important chance towards securing a good financial future for our family. I have the contact information for one of his personal assistants at the bottom of the email. Go see him and find out what he wants.” Pondering the email for some time, she tried to understand what this was all about. “Huntington’s affects so few people that any discoveries made would pay back little if any profit. I would assume that with his resources he could easily find out what we have, and determine whether it’s worth backing without me. We’re not real close on anything right now, anyway. I wonder who this person of interest I work with is?” For some reason she had a sense of foreboding about meeting this man.

  There was barely any sleep for her that night, but when she awoke the following morning she had received another email from her father with the subject line “Did you call him?”

  Sighing to herself, she got up, made a cup of tea and ate some breakfast. After a quick shower, she wrote down the phone number of the investor and headed out to clean off
her car, which had accumulated a few inches of snow and ice from last night’s flurries. The cold hit her like a thousand tiny knives and she realized she wasn’t dressed properly for being outside more than a few minutes. “I should have taken a position at the University of Miami, or UC Berkley. I’m sick of snow,” she complained. While sitting in the car as it warmed up, she reached for her cell phone and called the number given to her. The phone rang three times and just as she was about to hang up, someone answered. “Ah, Miss Yuki, Ohayou gozaimasu.” It was a female voice on the other side. “Ohayou,” Yuki quickly replied. “Allow me to introduce myself. My Name is April Wind and I represent a multinational investor by the name of Theodore Dantanian. Mr. Dantanian would very much like to meet with you to discuss a business proposal that he feels you will find intriguing and beneficial to you and your family. Would you be willing to take a flight to New York tomorrow afternoon for a dinner meeting? All expenses will be paid of course.” “What sort of proposal and where exactly will I be going?” she asked, somewhat skeptical and suspicious at the lack of details for the meeting. “Well, it involves a person of interest at your work. Mr Dantanian will explain the rest. Let me tell you that your father had many questions himself before he even allowed us to speak with you,” April replied with a chuckle. “We have a first class flight reserved for a two p.m. departure from Detroit to New York. A table has been reserved at the Ritz Carlton Hotel restaurant next to Central Park in Manhattan. After the dinner meeting you can stay the night at the hotel if you wish or we can have you flown back later that evening. As a token of our appreciation for listening to our proposal, we will offer you ten ounces of gold to be sent to your residence in Michigan, or anywhere you would like.” After the collapse of the global economy, many people preferred precious metals over fiat currencies; too many of the latter had become mattress stuffing and fodder for the fireplace. The Euro was not faring any better, nor most of the other major currencies. There was talk about gold backed credits or GBC’s becoming the new global currency, but most people still desired physical gold and silver, both of which were in very high demand. Ten ounces for just listening seemed too good to pass up.