“Fallen. But not broken. I’m organizing a counterstrike. There’s another problem. A plague is sweeping the globe. We’re racing the clock here.”
“I think I have a piece of the puzzle.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure yet. I need transport.”
“Destination?”
“Gibraltar.”
“Gibraltar?” Keegan sounded confused.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. It’s the best news I’ve heard. I’m actually in Gibraltar now — the last of the agents and I are planning a counterstrike on the Immari Headquarters here. The clerk can arrange transport for you, but before you go, there’s… something else I need to tell you, David. Something I want you to know, just in case you don’t make it here or… if, I’m not here when you arrive. You weren’t the only one investigating Immari. Unraveling their conspiracy has been my life’s work, but when I ran out of time… I knew you were my best shot at stopping them. I was your source. I used all my contacts within Immari to help you, but it wasn’t enough. The tactical mistakes are mine alone—”
“Are in the past. We have new information, possibly something we can use. This is not over. I’ll see you in Gibraltar.”
CHAPTER 102
Immari Research Base Prism
East Antarctica
Dorian had to hand it to Martin Grey: the man was technically competent. The research site in Antarctica was breathtaking. For the last thirty minutes, Martin had walked Dorian through each section of the giant centipede-esque mobile laboratory: the primate lab, with its two dead carcases, the drill control center, the staff barracks, the conference rooms, and the main control center, where they sat now.
“We’re out in the open here, Dorian. We should take precautions. There are several research stations here on Antarctica. Any one of them could stumble across us—”
“And do what?” Dorian said. “Who are they going to call?”
“The nations that fund them for one—”
“Those nations will soon be consumed with the outbreak. Unauthorized research on some ice cube at the end of the world won’t be on their radar, trust me. Let’s stop wasting time and get down to business. Tell me what you found at the sub site.”
“About what we expected.”
“Him?”
“No. General Kane,” Martin seemed to wince as he said the word. “wasn’t among the bodies we iden—”
“Then he’s inside.” Dorian’s hope betrayed his usually stoic exterior.
“Not necessarily. There are other possibilities.”
“Doubtfu—”
Martin pressed on. “He could have been killed during the raid in Tibet. Or en-route. It was a long journey. Or—”
“He’s inside. I know it.”
“If so, it raises several questions. Specifically, why he hasn’t exited. And why we haven’t heard from him. And there’s the reality of the timeline. Kane left for Antarctica in 1938. 75 years ago. If he is inside, he would be over 120 years old. Long dead.”
“Maybe he did try to communicate with us. Roswell. A warning.”
Martin thought it over. “Interesting. Even so, your obsession with Kane, with finding him, puts us all in danger. You need a clear head if you’re to lead this operation—”
“My head is clear, Martin.” Dorian stood. “I admit I’m obsessed with finding Konrad Kane, but you would be too if your father had gone missing.”
CHAPTER 103
Robert Hunt left the snowmobile running. He dismounted and walked into the small rock overhang where he’d left the two men. They were gone. But one snowmobile was there. Had they gone on to the site? Reported him? Had they followed him, backtracking to the last site? That would be as good as reporting him.
He ran out, into the open field of ice, withdrew his binoculars, and scanned the distance in every direction, twirling like a ballerina with his elbows pointed out.
Nothing.
He walked back to the cave. It was cold inside. Deathly cold. He tried to turn the stranded snowmobile on, but it was out of gas. How? Had they followed him and barely made it back? No — the tracks were old. They had run it here in the cave. Why? To keep warm? Yes, probably. They had waited as long as the could, until it sputtered out and the warmth receded. Then they had climbed on the last snowmobile and left together. But where had they gone?
CHAPTER 104
Immari Research Base Prism
East Antarctica
“I beg you not to do this, Dorian.” Martin stepped in front of the door and spread his arms.
“Be reasonable, Martin. You know the time has come.”
“We don’t know that—”
“What we do know is that a huge chunk of their city has broken off. And that one of their Bells was activated almost 75 years ago — we have the bodies from the sub as proof. You want to take the risk? We both know they’ll come out of hibernation soon, if they haven’t already. We don’t have time to research and debate. If they march out of there, the human race is finished.”
“You assume—”
“I know it. You know it. We’ve seen what the Bell can do. And that’s just the porch light over the stoop — the doorway to the type of cities we won’t be capable of building for thousands of years, assuming we’re even capable of inventing technology on their scale. Imagine what weapons they have in there. The Bell is simply a bug-zapper to keep the beasts from disturbing their rest. They don’t want anyone inside there for a reason. I’m ensuring our survival. This is the only way.”
“An act of this magnitude, based upon so much conjecture—”
“Great leaders are forged from the fire of hard decisions,” Dorian said. “Now stand aside.”
Inside the cell, Dorian knelt down to look the two Indonesian children in the face. They sat on a white bench, just outside the primate lab. Their feet dangled a few inches above the ground.
“I bet you two are glad to be out of those suits, aren’t you?”
The boys just stared at him.
“My name is Dorian Sloane. What are your names?”
The boys’ eyes were a blank stare that drifted slowly from Dorian to the floor.
“That’s ok, we don’t need names to play this game. The name game is boring anyway. We’re going to play a better game, a very fun game. Have you ever played hide and seek? It was my favorite game as a child. I was very good at it.” He turned to his assistant. “Get the packs from Dr. Chase.”
Dorian fixed the boys with a stare. “We’re going to put you inside a maze, a giant maze. Your job is to find a certain room.” Dorian held out a picture. “You see this? This is a room with a lot of glass tubes in it. Tubes big enough to hold a man! Can you believe it? If you can find this room, and hide in it, you’re going to win the prize.” Dorian laid the glossy printout on their laps. It was a computer rendering — an extrapolation of what the Immari thought a large tube room might look like.
The boys each studied it. “What prize?” one of them asked.
Dorian spread his hands. “That would be my question too. My, you’re clever, so very clever.” Dorian looked around. What prize indeed. He hadn’t thought they would ask. He hated kids. Almost as much as their questions. “We actually have several prizes. What…what prize would you like?”
The other boy put the printout on the bench. “Kate.”
“You want to see Kate?” Dorian said.
Both boys nodded, matching the rhythmic motion of their dangling legs.
“Well, I tell you what. If you find that room, and hide there, and wait, Kate will come and find you.” Dorian nodded when the boys’ eyes got bigger. “That’s right. I know Kate. We’re old friends, actually.” Dorian smiled to himself, for the inside joke, but the grin had the desired effect. The boys bounced subtly on the bench, excited.
A lab assistant entered with the packs. “Here they are, sir.” He helped Dorian put the packs on the children. “The snap activates the warheads. W
e’ve tried our best to make them tamper-resistant. If the snaps are disconnected, the warheads will detonate. As you requested, once they’re activated, there’s no manual or remote deactivation. We set the countdown for five hours.”
“Excellent work.” Dorian snapped the chest straps tight. He held the boys by the shoulders. “Now this is a very important part of the game. You can’t take these packs off. If you do, the game is over. No prize. No Kate. I know they’re kind of heavy. You can stop to rest if you need to, but remember — if you take them off — No. Kate. And there’s one last thing.” Dorian pulled out an envelope and pinned it to the taller boy’s chest. It had large script letters that read ‘Papa.’
Dorian put a few more pins in the envelope, ensuring it wouldn’t move. “If you see a man inside, an older man in a military uniform, you win the game — if you give him this envelope. So if you see him, you run to him and tell him that Dieter sent you. Can you remember that?”
The boys nodded.
Fifteen minutes later, Dorian watched from the command center as the two boys waddled toward the Bell almost two miles below the lab.
The deadly device didn’t so much as flicker. Ahead of them, a giant iron portal door opened in layers, like a reptile’s eyelid, Dorian thought.
He watched the monitors, which showed the camera feeds from the boys’ suits. Each video panned upward as the boys looked up at the Bell several hundred yards above them, hanging there in the massive dome of ice.
Dorian clicked a button. “It’s not going to hurt you. Just go on in. Remember the room with the tubes.” He unclicked the button and turned to the tech in the command center. “Can you put the computer image of the tubes on their suit display? Good.” He activated the link to the boys’ suits again. “There it is. Go in and find the tubes.”
Dorian sat back in the chair and watched the boys walk through the portal doors. Their camera feeds turned to static as the portal doors closed. On the other screens in the control room, Dorian could see the outside chamber and the Bell. The domed entryway was still. And dead quiet.
On the wall of screens, a digital readout ticked off the seconds of the countdown: 04:23:57, 04:23:56, 04:23:55.
CHAPTER 105
Transcript
White House Press Briefing regarding the “Flash Flu” Outbreak
Adam Rice (WH Press Secretary): Good morning everyone. I’m going to read a brief statement, then I’ll take a few questions. “The President and his administration are taking steps to assess and address the health concern the media is referring to as ‘The Flash Flu.’ Earlier today, The President ordered the CDC to dedicate all available resources to assessing the threat. Pending the results of that assessment, the White House may take further actions to ensure every American’s safety.”
[Rice sets the statement down and points at the first reporter.]
Reporter: Has the President set a timetable for closing the borders?
[Rice exhales and looks off-camera.]
Rice: The President has said repeatedly that closing the borders is a last resort. We know what the impact would be on American businesses, both large and small. Look, we understand there’s a public health issue here. But there’s also an economic risk. Closing the borders poses a very real risk to the American economy. The flu may effect many Americans, but closing the borders would definitely cause an immediate recession that would endanger more Americans — especially those at or below the poverty level — than a flu outbreak. We’re taking a balanced approach here. The President is not going to put anyone at risk — whether it’s at the hands of the flu or a trade recession.
Reporter: What’s your official response to the reports from Asia, the Middle East, and Europe?
Rice: We’re taking them seriously, but we’re also conducting a careful, balanced review of the information. We’re still working with incomplete information, and frankly, we don’t think all of it is reliable.
Reporter: Are you referring to the eyewitness reports, the videos—
[Rice holds a hand up.]
Rice: Look, as for the videos on the internet, it’s one of those things, you know, where you’re going to see the worst. No one makes a YouTube video about themselves sitting at home, healthy as can be, eating cereal or doing aerobics. They, you know, make these videos when there’s something sensational. We’ve all seen them at this point, some Japanese guy sitting at a sushi bar and puking blood everywhere, a lady at the grocery store collapsing in the vegetable aisle with white ooze running from her nose and fingernails. Hey, look, we’ve seen them and there are going to be more of them. If you live your life based on what you see on YouTube, you’re going to make some pretty poor decisions, and that’s what we’re trying to avoid here. It’s not even clear if these videos are real, and if they are, they could be related to any number of acute health issues.
[Rice holds both arms up.]
Rice: Ok, that’s it for today, thank you all.
CHAPTER 106
Clocktower Safe House
Gibraltar
The sunset over the Bay of Gibraltar was breathtaking. Soft shades of red, orange, and pink met the deep blue water of the Atlantic in the distance. About 100 yards away, the harbor ended and the rock rose out of the sea and land. Its gray and black clashed with the burning rays of sunlight sliding down its side.
Kate pulled the glass door back and walked out onto the tile-covered porch four stories above the streets of the harbor. Below her, armed guards patrolled the large house. A warm Mediterranean breeze engulfed her, and Kate leaned against the rail.
Behind her, she heard a wave of laughter erupt around the table. David’s eyes met hers. He looked so happy there, sitting among the dozen other Clocktower Station Chiefs and Agents — the survivors of the fall of Clocktower; now, “The Resistance.” From out here, if she didn’t know any better, she’d think it was just a reunion of old college friends, kidding, sharing stories, and planning tomorrow’s escapades for tailgating and a big football game. But she knew they were making plans for the assault on Immari Gibraltar’s headquarters. The conversation had veered into technical discussions of tactics, debates about the building’s layout, and questions about whether the schematics and other intel they had were reliable. Kate had drifted out onto the porch, like a new girlfriend who clearly wasn’t part of the core group.
On the plane ride from India, she and David had talked openly, for the first time without any guards or hesitation. She told him about losing her child; how she met a man who disappeared into thin air at almost the moment she’d gotten pregnant. She left San Francisco for Jakarta a week after the miscarriage, and she had thrown herself into her work and autism research in the years that followed.
David had been just as forthcoming. He had told Kate about his fiance dying in the 9/11 attacks and how he was badly injured, almost paralyzed; then about his recovery and his decision to dedicate himself to finding the people responsible. A week ago, Kate would have brushed off his assertions about the Immari and a global conspiracy, but she had just nodded on the plane. She didn’t know how the pieces fit together, but she believed him.
They had slept after they talked, as if the release had brought the respite. But for Kate, it was a sporadic, restless slumber, mostly because of the plane’s noise and partly because it was hard to sleep in the chair. Every time Kate awoke, David was always asleep. She imagined he did the same, watching her until he fell asleep again. She still had so much to say to him. When she woke up the last time, the plane was making its final approach at the Gibraltar airfield. David gazed out the plane window, and when he saw that Kate was awake, he said, “Remember, don’t say anything about the journal, Tibet, or the China facility until we know more. I’m still not sure about this.”
Clocktower agents swarmed the plane the second they landed, and they were whisked away to the home. She and David had barely said a word since.
Behind her, the door slid open, and Kate turned quickly, smiling, hoping. It was
Howard Keegan, the Director of Clocktower. Kate’s smile faded instantly, and she hoped the man hadn’t seen it. He stepped out and closed the door. “May I join you, Dr. Warner?”
“Please. And call me Kate.”
Keegan stood beside her at the rail, not leaning and not looking at Kate. He stared out into the darkening bay. He was clearly in his 60s, but he was fit. Robust.
The silence was a bit awkward. “How’s the planning going?” Kate asked.
“Well. Though it won’t matter.” Keegan’s voice was flat, emotionless.
A chill ran through Kate. She tried to lighten the mood. “You’re that confiden—”
“I am. Tomorrow’s outcome has been planned for years now.” He motioned to the streets and the guards below. “Those aren’t Clocktower agents. They’re Immari Security. As are the guards inside. Tomorrow, the last of the non-Immari agents within Clocktower will die, including David.”
Kate pushed off the rail and looked back at the table where the men were still laughing and pointing. “I don’t un—”
“Don’t turn around. I’m here to make you an offer.” Keegan’s voice was a whisper.
“For what?”
“His life. In exchange for yours. You will leave here tonight, in a few hours, when everyone has knocked off. They’ll go to bed early; the raid is at dawn.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? I don’t want to kill him. I’m genuinely fond of him. We’re just on different sides of the coin. Chance. But we want you, badly.”
“Why?”
“You survived the Bell. It’s the key to everything we’ve done. We have to understand it. I won’t lie; you’ll be questioned, then studied, but he will be spared. Look at your options. We can simply kill those agents inside right now. It’s messier, here in a residential neighborhood, but acceptable. We’ve held this operation open too long as it is, waiting, seeing who would come in, hoping he would call. There’s more. If you’re clever in your negotiations, you may be able to free the children, or perhaps trade yourself for them. They’re being held at the same facility.” Keegan looked Kate in the eyes. “Now what’s your answer?”