Inception_The Bern Project_Volume One

by M James Conway

  Inception:

  The Bern Project (Volume One)

  By

  M. James Conway

  © 2017 by M James Conway

  Disclaimer

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Disclaimer

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  ONE YEAR AGO

  General Ulster Woods stared at himself in the mirror and felt out of place. The charcoal gray Brooks Brothers suit was a far cry from the Class A’s he was used to. For a meeting like this, though, he couldn’t be seen with the four stars.

  General Woods smiled at his reflection in the mirror. His high cheekbones and chiseled, block-shaped jaw were accented in the light by his smooth ebony skin. He was a man in his fifties who looked a decade younger.

  He had to admit, he looked very presidential, unlike the man who currently occupied the White House. If he had had his way, he would have been in the Oval Office four years ago. Instead, the weak citizenry of this country had chosen a reality show star and billionaire. A man who had no knowledge of how the world worked was now in charge of the largest and most powerful military the world had ever known.

  It should have been me, he thought.

  Fortunately, he had planned for such an occasion. Plan B’s were always a part of any successful military leader’s planning.

  Five years ago, General Woods had been invited to The Bern Institute – a secret annual meeting comprised of world leaders, CEOs, bankers, financiers, and innovators that met in Bern, Switzerland – and he had jumped at the chance, though not too quickly.

  During his first meeting, he was surprised to see that each member and guest had shared the same world view as him. They all saw a world that was becoming too dependent on technology, and, with that, the powers that be were slowly losing their status to young up-and-coming technocrats. Where those in power used to deal in black gold, real estate, fiat currency and blood, were now being replaced by those who dealt in ones and zeroes and unregulated digital currency. Of course, it wasn’t just the rich who were losing their status. Media moguls were losing power to social media, politicians were losing their grip on secrets, and the black market was losing to legalization and consumer knowledge.

  While these fat and wealthy men were busy worrying about how to save their lifestyles, General Woods was crafting a plan. He and a select few members had met in secret and decided to do something about it. They dubbed themselves The Cabal and met off-the-record every few months, and had slowly devised a plan of action. Of course, General Woods was the man behind the curtain, but he let each member have their say and input. Ultimately, however, it was he who would okay everything.

  Their plan, which they called The Bern Project, was a three-phased operation that would make their vision of the world a reality. A world that was in danger of overpopulation, food scarcity, disease, power shifts and all-out war was in desperate need of a makeover. Too many countries were vying for supremacy, when all that was really needed was a one world government. A government controlled by The Bern Institute, of course.

  The man he was meeting today was the one to make Phase One a possibility.

  The mirror parted and General Woods walked out of the elevator into the overly ornate lobby. Several ghastly and expensive paintings adorned the earth brown walls. Soft music played in the background.

  The receptionist at the desk said, “Oh, General, I’ll tell him you’re – ”

  “I know the way, thank you.” He ignored her and walked right to the double oak doors.

  “But he’s – ”

  Her voice was cut off by General Woods forcing open the doors. He walked inside and went straight to Dr. Marco Meck’s desk.

  Dr. Meck was a homely man with cherub features and a bald head, though not by choice. He tried to mask his baldness as much as possible by spending time in a tanning bed, but that just made his pasty white features turn red.

  Dr. Meck was bent over the desk as much as his short and squat body would allow, and was startled when General Woods walked in.

  “Oh, General. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” He wiped white powder off his nose and sniffed a couple of times to make sure any remnants were gone. He tried as best he could to hide the amber vial on his desk by subtly knocking it into his open desk drawer. White powder residue hung in the air like a fine mist.

  General Woods pointed to his own nose. “You missed some.” Obviously, not subtle enough.

  Dr. Meck blushed a bit, but his high gave him an ego boost and he brushed it off. “Eh, we all have our vices.”

  “I don’t have vices, Marco.” General Woods never addressed him as Doctor.

  Dr. Meck spread his hands out and said, “Well…are you ready for the big show?”

  General Woods couldn’t stand this man. Marco was smug and cocky, but he was also a brilliant virologist. He hadn’t wanted this man as part of The Cabal, but the Vice President of the United States had almost demanded it, saying that population decimation by any means other than violence couldn’t be achieved without him.

  When Dr. Meck had told him how Phase One could be achieved, he relented and reluctantly allowed this man to join. Of course, General Woods had come across men like him before, where social status and wealth were more important that honor and following the mission. He knew this man would probably talk, and thus, would have to be eliminated. He just had to make sure the virus worked before that could happen.

  “Is the virus ready?” General Woods asked.

  Dr. Meck clapped and rubbed his hands together and said, “Of course! Let me show you.” He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a remote. He pointed it first to the large window behind his desk and hit a button. The window took
on an amber tint. Dr. Meck pointed to his eyes and ears and said, “You never know who’s eavesdropping. I had this state-of-the-art security system put in place last year. You know, with our project, you never can tell who is going to eaves – ”

  General Woods interrupted. “Just get on with it, Marco. I don’t have all fucking day.”

  “Uh, right. Right. Sorry. Want a drink?”

  “I don’t drink, Marco.”

  “Of course not,” Dr. Meck said with resignation.

  He hit another button on the same remote and a bank of television screens projected forward from the far wall. There were six screens in total, and, with the push of another button, all six came to life. Five of them showed various shots of what General Woods assumed was the same lab. He counted six scientists in full white hazmat suits working diligently. There were also two pallets full of stacked shoebox-sized boxes. The sixth screen showed three men in beige prison garb staring out of a plexiglass holding cell. Each man had scratches and dried blood on his mottled skin.

  General Woods pointed in the direction of the five screens and asked, “Is that the virus they’re loading?”

  Dr. Meck sniffed quickly and said, “Yes, sir. Actually, let me find out from Dr. Rhodes what his estimated time is for completion.” He hit an intercom button on his mahogany desk. “Dr. Rhodes, how much longer?”

  The scientist in the foreground turned toward the screen and held up his hand with his fingers splayed out, closed it into a fist, then repeated.

  Dr. Meck turned to the General and said, “Ten minutes.”

  General Woods pointed to the bottom right screen. “And those men…”

  “Yes, your guinea pigs you brought in. It worked flawlessly.”

  General Woods felt Dr. Meck staring at him, so before he could ask, the General said, “You don’t need to know where they came from.” The truth was, these men were throwaways from Gitmo. Men who weren’t necessarily bad, but also couldn’t be sent back to their home and report on the conditions of Gitmo, nor to tell their fellow countrymen who their fellow inmates were. The US military wasn’t the only war machine that dealt with intelligence. So, the General had found a use for these men. “Tell me how it went down.”

  “Yes, of course!”

  While Dr. Meck droned on about the process of creating the zombie virus, General Woods was keeping a count in his head. He knew his two assault teams were at the south and north entrances of the facility, awaiting his orders.

  “…the flu virus was mutated…” Dr. Meck went on.

  Both teams comprised six men each. Each member had been hand selected by General Woods himself because these were men that were battle-tested and had proved their loyalty to him.

  “…takes about ten seconds to infect…”

  They were also men who were ruthless and shared General Woods’ philosophy on how this world should be: men who came back from deployment, only to feel more isolated and lost in their own country, men who just needed to feel important, and, more importantly, men who needed a mission.

  “…it’s airborne at first, but then becomes blood borne…”

  General Woods reached into his pocket and pulled out a satellite phone. He dialed in a number and held it to his ear.

  “…they’ll be zombie-like for about one week and then start to slow down. We expect…who…who are you calling?”

  The phone was answered, but nobody spoke. General Woods expected no less. “Go,” he said, then hung up.

  “What’s going on, General?” Dr. Meck asked.

  The General could hear the beginning of fear in the doctor’s voice. He stood up and adjusted his blazer. He placed the satellite phone in one pocket and pulled out a Glock Model 22 from the other. He held the gun to his side and stared at Dr. Meck. “What did you expect, Marco?”

  “What the hell do you mean?” Dr. Meck pushed himself back from the desk but remained seated. If he was feeling a high from the drugs he snorted, he was certainly sober now.

  The General shook his head and said, “You couldn’t keep your fat fucking mouth shut, huh?”

  “I did everything you asked!” Dr. Meck pointed a shaky hand at the bank of screens and continued, “None of these men talked, I swear!”

  General Woods reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a photo. He threw it on the desk so Dr. Meck could see. With his free hand, he pointed to it and said, “I think she disagrees with you on that.”

  Dr. Meck looked at the photo of the dead and dismembered hooker and retched on the floor. “My god, what did you do!”

  “I’ll admit she was a tough girl, but in the end, nobody holds out forever. She told us everything. Everything about our plan. Now, how the hell would she know that?”

  “I-I-I swear! I said nothing to her! I don’t even know Candy!” Dr. Meck held his hands up and then froze.

  The General said, “I never said her name was Candy. But that’s a good guess.”

  The doors to the office opened and the same receptionist stuck her head in. “Dr. Meck, did you want me to change –” She saw the General holding the gun and threw her hands to her mouth and let out a silent scream.

  The General pointed the gun towards her and fired a round, hitting her above her left eye. The back of her head exploded outward, coating the mocha-colored walls in gray matter and blood.

  “Ah, god! Oh, god!” Dr. Meck started shaking and losing his balance. He sat back down, the ruddy color draining from his face.

  General Woods knew that the doctor was already feeling the physical effects of impending doom. The tunnel vision, dry mouth, heartbeat pumping in your ears, and panicked breath took over all your senses. He’d been there before and knew the feeling. He also knew that survival instincts would take over.

  As if on cue, Dr. Meck ran around his desk as fast as his short fat body would allow and headed right toward the General, with his short pudgy arms pointed at him.

  The General pointed the Glock toward Dr. Meck and fired two rounds center mass, both rounds hitting him in the chest mere centimeters apart.

  The doctor dropped to his knees and fell backwards, his arms still stretched out. He gurgled on blood as pink froth escaped his mouth.

  General Woods calmly walked over and stood above Dr. Meck, whose eyes were glazing over, staring at him. He raised the gun and fired a round through his forehead, putting the pathetic man out of his misery. Honestly, it was more humane than the man deserved.

  General Woods walked behind the desk and sat down. He watched the six screens as his two teams of loyal men tactically worked their way through the lab downstairs and dispatched each of the scientists, then proceeded to move the crates out of the lab.

  Once done, Team Alpha came back and started placing the explosives methodically around the laboratory, making sure that every square inch of this place was going to fall victim to the explosion.

  General Woods sighed, got up and slowly walked out of the office and into the mirrored elevator.

  He stared at himself in the mirrored door as he descended the six floors to ground level, his starched white shirt and blazer now splotched with red.

  He shook his head. Marco’s blood had ruined his suit.

  That’s okay, he thought. He wasn’t a suit guy anyway.

  * * *

  Out in the parking lot, General Woods got into the back of the nondescript black Suburban.

  “All done, sir?” his driver asked.

  General Woods looked at the young redheaded driver in the rearview mirror. “Yes, Redmond, we’re good to go.”

  Redmond brought the vehicle around and took off down the mountainous road. “Copy that, sir. Awaiting your orders.”

  He didn’t acknowledge and his driver didn’t inquire further.

  The General stared out the window at the beautiful scenery on this August day as the Suburban made its way down the rocky mountain road: sun, high snow caps, green trees, and birds. That clean and crisp air, though thin, was still one of the best smells in the w
orld.

  In about one year, though, all that would change. A change that was necessary if this world had any hope for survival. The deployment of the virus would be the first step: a simple way to rid the world of the weak and those that couldn’t survive.

  General Woods knew that in order to fully control a population, you needed two things: fear, and desperation. Well, the virus would bring about fear and send this world into chaos. Naturally, survivors would band together and find some way to fight back, and that’s when you force them to feel desperation. That’s where Phase Two would come in. Do that, and you’ll have people on their knees begging for help. And General Woods would be there to save them.

  He smiled to himself and said, “Redmond, they may proceed.”

  “Yes, sir.” Redmond grabbed a satellite telephone and spoke into it. Then he craned his neck and said, “It has begun, sir.”

  Seconds later, a loud and distant explosion was heard in the background behind them, the laboratory decimated, and, with it, all evidence of the coming doom to the world.

  Yes, General Woods thought, The Bern Project had very much begun.

  PRESENT DAY

  Chapter 1

  John Idgaff looked like any other male shopper at the busy and upscale Bellevue Mall: tall, muscular, good-looking, styled black hair, black-rimmed Calvin Klein prescription glasses, a charcoal gray Brook Brothers suit with a pressed white dress shirt and mustard yellow tie. Like everyone else in the vicinity, John carried a white Starbucks coffee cup with a cardboard sleeve in one hand and two shopping bags in the other.

  The perfect disguise.

  Of course, this wasn’t his normal look, but if he wanted to not be remembered, he had to blend in. He didn’t understand why men would want to wear such an uncomfortable and pretentious outfit. To John, suits just screamed out “politician” or “corporate douchebag” and seemed to hug his nuts just a little too tightly, forcing him to walk like a bowlegged cowboy.

  He scanned the area as he walked, taking a head count and roster of everyone he passed, looking for anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Yuppies, soccer moms, privileged teenagers, businessmen on their cell phones, kiosk trolls…each person caught up in their own little world, completely naïve about the environment around them.