Project Zulu
Page 1
Project Zulu
By Fred Waltz
This story is a work of fiction. All events, incidents, dialogue and characters described herein are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to a specific place or person (living or dead) is solely coincidental.
Project Zulu
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2011, 2015 Fred Waltz
Edited by Angela Waltz
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
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
Chapter 17
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
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Afterword
Prologue
No matter how many times Jimmy reads the letter, it still says the same thing. He crumples it in his hand and tosses it toward the garbage can; it falls short and lands on the floor. He cradles his head in his open hands and begins to cry. Where am I going to get $250,000, he thinks to himself, and how am I going to tell Julie that I can’t afford to keep her alive?
“Daddy! Daddy! Are you down there? Daddy, I need a glass of water.”
“Alright Julie honey, I will be right up.” Jimmy gets up from the table, wipes his eyes and walks over to the sink; he fills a glass half way with water, lets out a sigh, and heads toward the stairs. Each step cries out a squeaky protest as Jimmy ascends. He walks into the small bedroom, and cannot help but smile. Julie is sitting up in her bed, grinning from ear to ear, absolutely glowing.
“What took you so long; I thought I was going to die of thirst?” She barely finishes her sentence before breaking out into laughter. Jimmy joins her and almost falls over.
No matter how down he got, it only took one look at his beautiful, brave, amazing eleven year old daughter to bring him out of the dumps. There are no secrets between Jimmy and Julie, not since Jenny had died six years ago. Jimmy never got to fully grieve the loss of his wife; he was too busy consoling his daughter on the loss of her Mother. So there were no secrets when the doctors told Jimmy that both of Julie’s kidneys were failing; he sat Julie down and gave it to her straight. He was amazed that a seven year old girl, just two years removed from losing her mother, took the news that she was now dying, so well.
So for the past four years, Jimmy and Julie have been dealing with living life one day at a time. The expenses continued to pile up, Julie got weaker and Jimmy got more and more worried. When the phone call from the hospital came last week, saying that a prospective donor had just been taken off of life support, Jimmy was ecstatic. When the letter from the insurance company came today, Jimmy was crushed. He had already taken a second mortgage on the house to pay for the weekly dialysis. He had borrowed the maximum allowable amount from his 401k, and all of the life insurance from Jenny was long gone. He had no idea how he was going to come up with the co-payment needed for Julie’s transplant surgery, and he knew he had to tell her, just not tonight.
Chapter 1
Jimmy is just pulling out of the driveway when his cell phone begins ringing. He answers it immediately, not even checking the caller ID. “What did I forget honey?” Jimmy says, expecting to hear Julie’s voice.
“Mr. Gaston, do you have a moment to speak with me?”
“What, who is this?”
“Mr. Gaston…Jimmy, my name is Jacob Smitz. I represent an individual, who wishes to remain anonymous, that would like to help you pay for your daughter’s surgery. I have been authorized to offer you $750,000, cash, in exchange for performing a service for my client.”
“What, how do you know about Julie, I don’t understand, what kind of service?”
“Jimmy let’s not beat around the bush here. I am quite sure if you think hard enough you will be able to figure out what my client is interested in. Now I don’t believe that it is prudent to continue our conversation right now. A courier will deliver a package to you right after you pull into your parking space at work; open the package, read the note inside and then hand it back to the courier. Goodbye.”
“Wait just a minute. Hello. Hello?”
Jimmy drives the rest of the way in silence, barely paying attention to anything. Luckily he has made the drive to Syscorp thousands of times, so it was pretty much second nature. He slows down to the posted five miles an hour, and holds his identification card out the window, up to the security guard, Ralph. Ralph waves him through immediately, “Good morning Mr. Gaston.”
Jimmy waves back. Ralph had been at the front guard booth twelve years ago when Jimmy showed up for his first day of work, and has been there every day since. The idling white van catches his eye before he pulls into his parking spot. He wonders how it has gotten past Ralph, and then notices the stencil on the side of the van ‘EmStat Medical Delivery Service.’
Before he can put the transmission into park the driver of the van is at his window with a sealed envelope. “Mr. Gaston, I have instructions to collect this back after you read it.” He extends the envelope toward the open window. Jimmy takes it, and looks at the man.
He tears open the envelope, and removes a single sheet of plan paper with one sentence typed in the middle, Farachis, 7:30 pm, tonight!
The man reaches into the car, retrieves the envelope from Jimmy’s lap, and paper from his hands. “Excuse me Mr. Gaston.” He places the paper back into the envelope and brings the flame from a Zippo lighter up to the corner as he walks back to the idling van. He is pulling out of the parking lot, waving to Ralph before Jimmy gets out of his vehicle.
Farachis is an upscale restaurant down in the cultural district. Jenny had always wanted to go there when they were dating. Jimmy gets out of the car and starts walking toward the building.
He weaves his way through the concrete reinforced bollards that alternate every three feet. He steps onto the RSMS (Random Speed Moving Sidewalk) and places his ID card into the activation slot. The RSMS was designed to alternate between speeds of one to fifteen miles per hour along the 2500 foot distance from the parking lot to the building. The concept being that it could never be calculated how long it would take an individual to get from the parking lot to the building, thus deterring preset explosive devices.
Chapter 2
Syscorp is really just a front for the government. All employees are former, or current something…Military, CIA, FBI, DOD etc. It is a ‘CYA’ (cover your ass) policy for high r
anking officials that need to have plausible deniability if and when the shit ever hits the fan. The series of buildings and underground bunkers are situated across 10 acres in the town of Apollo Pennsylvania. Apollo is a combination suburban, farming community. At one time it had been on the fore front of coal mining and atomic power.
A small mishap at another ‘government front’ company (Nuclear Materials and Equipment Corporation) NUMEC, had put Apollo on the map. A cover story had been scripted and executed to cover up over 200 pounds of missing enriched uranium. Speculation at the time was that, to cover up the sale of the uranium to an overseas ally of America, amounts of uranium dust were spread around the Babcock and Wilcox power generating facility. Contamination was found in the ground water, sewer lines and Kiskiminetas River. A full scale spill was reported and the land and river around the North Apollo facility was quickly quarantined. Scripted investigations by the Atomic Energy Commission, the Central Intelligence Agency, the Federal Bureau of Investigation and other government agencies found no evidence of anything other than a minor leak in the area. Within three years of the incident, one of America’s most strategic allies in the Middle East had developed a mid-range atomic missile.
In addition to the ground Syscorp occupied, a sister company, H.G. Inc., holds the title on the surrounding 10 acres. Unless the government wants you to, nobody gets close to Syscorp. The closest piece of commercial property is a rundown biker bar, Valhalla, about 20 miles down the highway; the closest privately owned house is five miles from Valhalla.
On either side of the two lane blacktop, State Route 166, stretching from Syscorp past Valhalla to the sparely populated town of Muleton, is a man-made swamp, willow bog. The government did not want to chance some commercial developer sniffing around wanting to buy any land. Great efforts were taken to redirect drainage ditches, reservoir overflows, and small community creeks and streams to ensure that willow bog stayed wet, muddy and unsuitable for development. As an extra precaution the EPA put strict regulations into place —which of course Syscorp and H.G. Inc. were immune from— to protect the natural habitat of the Northern Bog Turtle and the Dwarf Wedge mussel; both species conveniently discovered for the first time right after Syscorp was constructed.
Chapter 3
Jimmy removes his ID from the slot and places the lanyard around his neck as he approaches the front door. He doesn’t bother reading the sign explaining the entry procedure, because he wrote it. He enters the small corridor and waits for the door to latch behind him. He closes his eyes as the overhead fans, and underfoot vacuums activate. Syscorp is a ‘clean’ environment. This is the first, of three, sterilization chambers that everyone entering the building passes through. Out of the first corridor, into the next where the bacteria killing ultra violet light baths his body as he walks through. Finally he enters the final of the initial three checkpoints, the full body scan, verifying that he has nothing non-organic (explosive material, composite plastic, etc.)
Jeff is waiting for him at the end of the third hallway with the metal detecting wand. “Good morning Mr. Gaston, car keys and briefcase on the belt please.” He traces the wand around Jimmy as a computer analyzes the x-ray image of his briefcase and keys. “Have a good day Sir,” Jeff says when he finishes the scan.
Jimmy nods his reply as he walks toward his office. He is still in a funk over his mysterious phone call and letter. He approaches the elevator and places his thumb on the finger print reader. After a few seconds, a small panel slides open revealing the up and down buttons; Jimmy presses the down button. He exits the elevator and walks down the hall to his office. He places his chin on the plastic ledge and allows both of his retinas to be scanned. Once the computer confirms his identity, the door to his office unbolts and allows him to enter. This is one of the most secure buildings in the country. Only a confirmed natural disaster emergency (fire, earthquake, tornado etc.) can or would override the security functionality of the building.
He only has a few minutes until his first meeting of the day is scheduled to begin. He decides to stop by the cafeteria for a coffee before heading to the conference hall.
Chapter 4
The security of the conference hall is twice as intense as the entrance to the building. Passing a body scan, x-ray, physical pat down, radio wave sweep and retina scan is the only way in. Jimmy takes his seat at the table, behind his name plate, ‘James Gaston, R&D’. Jimmy’s boss, Dr. Ross Gandle, will be running the meeting. Ross is the acting Director of Research and Development for Syscorp East Coast operations. Ross does a quick headcount, confirms the number with his console screen, and presses the enter key on his keyboard. The door closes and a series of bolts engage. The lights in the room dim, and a random sampling of ‘cover music’ begins to play on the overhead speakers. Everyone in the room puts a head set on. Each headset has an onboard random DNA analyzer that validates the wearer. The entire meeting will be held via computer synchronization. Participants will type what they want to say on keyboards in front of them, and then the text will be encrypted and converted to audio. The audio will then be delivered only to the headsets that have been validated.
Ross begins by calling the meeting to order and introducing the key guest, General Michael Balchor, Advocate Assistant to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. “General Balchor is here today for an update to project RE-AN, so that he can persuade the President to release more funding. I am going to turn the presentation over to Jimmy Gaston since he is heading up the project.”
“Thank You Ross. Ladies and Gentlemen, General, I will keep this as concise as possible. Project RE-AN is proceeding on schedule, we have successfully conducted isolation on what we believe to be the primary vector strain of the DNA, and are prepared to begin trials on laboratory subjects. As everyone here knows, security is the most important phase of the laboratory trials. We are probably one week away from final selection of the security team. Secondary background checks are being initiated…”
“Excuse me Mr. Gaston,” General Balchor interrupts, “I know a thing or two about security and security clearances. Don’t you think running secondary background checks on Secret Service Agents, Navy SEALS, Marine Snipers and Air Force One reserve pilots is a little bit redundant and more to the point, a waste of tax payer’s money?”
“General, with all due respect, what we are dealing with has the potential to change all mankind; I do not think that we can be too cautious when it comes to security.” Jimmy pauses for dramatic effect. “Now, as I was saying, we hope to have the security team in place by late next week. After that, we will arrange for the transfer of the test subjects and begin phase one of testing. The encrypted dossier on each of your computers will be available for review up to one hour after the meeting adjourns. It should give you a general idea of the clinical timeline we hope to achieve during phase one. Are there any questions? Yes, General.”
“Aw hell Jimmy, sorry about busting your balls over security, I should know better. My boss would like to know what percentage of Specimen Zulu is being utilized for phase one and more specifically what piece?” (Specimen Zulu is the declassified codename for Specimen Benin-Nzambi-001.)
Jimmy graduated from West Point with Mike Balchor, so he knew that the security dig was coming from the White House, not him. “Mike, there is approximately 95% of Specimen Zulu still intact at the storage facility. It was decided to utilize 5% for testing purposes, we chose the left hand, and four researchers were given a digit. The remainder of the hand is being kept onsite, in auxiliary storage.”
Actually, that was not 100% true, but then even Mike only had so much ‘need to know’. The thumb was actually severed from the hand, separated at the knuckle joint and suspended in cryogenic animation. Each section is stored inside small cryogenic storage freezers located in Jimmy and Ross’s offices. It was Ross’s idea; he called it a job security blanket, just in case the White House ever decided to deny access to Specimen Zulu.
Mike walks Jimmy back to his office af
ter the meeting. “Again, sorry about the security crack Jimmy.”
“No hard feelings Mike, I know who you work for.” They both laugh.
“You want to go grab something to eat?”
“I would love to Mike, but I had a terrible headache when I came in this morning, only reason I didn’t bail was because of the meeting. I am going to go home. Stop up next week, we will get together and have a celebratory drink, if all goes well.”
“Jimmy, listen. You have to make sure everything goes well. I am hearing scuttlebutt that funding is becoming an issue. You have to show some progress, or I am afraid that you are going to get cut off.”
“Thanks for the heads up Mike, see you next week.”
Chapter 5
“I am sorry honey; it is a business dinner, work thing, you know.” Jimmy is explaining (lying) to Julie why he has to go out. “You like Mrs. Fenton, and you like pizza, so what is the big deal?”
“I don’t know; something just doesn’t seem right.” Julie answers. “Who are you meeting with?”
“Julie, I don’t have time for twenty questions, I will be back by ten at the latest, see you then.” He kisses her on the forehead and walks out of her room.
Julie knows her Dad is not telling her the whole truth. She is sure it is a business dinner, but her dad is not meeting with anyone from work. She reaches under her pillow and pulls out the crumpled letter. She wonders if her dad is meeting somebody from the insurance company. She folds the letter up and puts it back under her pillow. She has decided that if he doesn’t tell her about it before he says goodnight that she will show him the letter. Of course then he will know that she has been out of her bed and downstairs, which would blow her cover; a risk she is willing to take.