Chapter Twenty Seven
Smolensk North Airport (Oblast, Russia)
Donald pulled his thick black overcoat closer to his body as he stepped out of the Gulfstream onto the runway. He’d never known cold like this. His breath and the breath of the men he followed came out in thick white gusts.
According to the Russian officials escorting them, it was quite warm for this time of the year since they were nearing the end of their winter. He begged to differ. The cold was killing him.
His eyes drifted around the wide tarmac and he sighed. He’d dug up some information on this place on their way here. From what he had been able to uncover, it was a decommissioned airbase located four kilometres from the city of Smolensk. It was now used strictly for civil and military flights.
Two Russian MiGs lay a few feet away. His eyes drifted to Kungawo. The man was shaking like someone in the throes of an epileptic fit. It appeared he was having more trouble with the cold than he was.
The MiGs were going to be their transport to the US SS Harrier where NATO leaders were meeting. Their Russian escorts saw them to the plane and helped them aboard. The president went first of course before he was escorted to the second MiG. He climbed in quickly and was strapped in by the pilot. It took a few minutes for ground control to give the go ahead and they taxied onto the runway preparing for takeoff.
With a loud screech of engines the MiGs streaked across the runway sweeping into the air like the most graceful birds of flight. Donald felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Unable to bear it he closed his eyes and started counting down from hundred.
They were in the air for almost an hour when the pilot’s loud yell roused him from his counting and introspection.
“There it is __” He said pointing.
Donald sighed looking where he was pointing and gasped. He’d never seen anything quite like it before. The hundred thousand tons of steel cut through the cold aggressive waves with what appeared to be an air of casual indifference; the massive steam powered catapult aboard this floating fortress flung hundreds of American fighters into the sky to combat a myriad of threats worldwide.
Since the emergence of the blackness, that number had doubled. The MiGs swept in for landing aiming for the long runway. Coming for landing on its 6.5 acre deck was unlike anything Donald had ever felt before.
The plane’s tail hooks trap caught wires pulling the aircraft to a halt in four seconds. The move drove blood into their heads briefly making them see red. Donald started counting down from ten continuously until the plane slid to a halt. They had arrived.
The descent to the runway took some doing. He discovered his leg were stiff for some reason. His eyes drifted, his hard gaze falling on Kungawo. The man was basically stumbling. He was going to have to be carried if care wasn’t taken.
As if they could read his thoughts two of Kungawo’s soldiers stepped forward and lifted him in the air. Two strong US army officers walked forward stopping in front of them. Their cold emotionless eyes seemed to drill holes into Donald’s insides.
“President Kungawo __ we welcome you to the US SS Harrier. If you’ll come with me please __”
Donald nodded slowly and followed. They were led below deck into a series of corridors which meandered off in half a dozen different directions. Donald was astounded at how massive the place was. He knew they were big __ but nothing could have adequately prepared him for the mammoth scale of it.
The conference room came into view; Donald took a deep breath and stepped in looking at the almost two dozen people gathered. He recognized most of them which was surprising; he was so bad with faces.
Kungawo’s men stood him up outside the conference and helped him limp through. Donald saw sympathy in many faces but none voiced it out.
A tall well built man in an expensive suit rose when Kungawo was seated. His blue eyes glistened behind horn rimmed glasses which looked a little too small for him.
Donald’s heart skipped a couple of beats when he saw him. He was looking at Kyle Stanton __ Harvard trained lawyer who was now the President of the United States.
Before communication went down it had reached the ears of the world press that President Howard had died. The darkness attacked the white house killing him and everyone in it. President Stanton took over from then on.
A quiet stillness rose over everything. They watched Stanton with bated breath wondering what he was going to say. They’d been hit by tons of bad news over the last couple of weeks. Many felt it was too much to hope that good news was in the offing.
“Gentlemen ___ ladies __ I called this meeting for one reason and one reason only __” He paused. Many eyes widened, willing him to continue.
“___ to put it plainly __ we are losing this war __”
“Our most powerful weapons are ineffective against this thing. What do you think we ought to do?”
A cold silence greeted his question. Many leaders; especially the Russian and Chinese contingent looked positively livid.
The Chinese leader rose spitting out a flurry of unintelligible words. Kyle looked to his advisors helplessly.
“Does anyone have a translator?”
A stocky Chinese rose from the desk behind his leader and began to translate speaking with impeccable English.
“Our great leader Yin Jo Juao is grieved that you called us here for mere small talk. He was of the opinion you had a solution for us.”
Kyle Stanton sighed deeply. “Then I am afraid I am going to have to disappoint him. My advisors and I are beginning to think there isn’t a solution for the darkness problem.”
A horrified silence fell on the room. Even the Chinese who seemed inches away from outright protest stared with gaped mouths at the American president.
“So why are we here?” Another voice barked from the far right corner.
They all turned, staring at the tall confident looking man in a black suit. He was in his mid forties, athletic and striking, with flecks of grey on the sides of his head.
His steely blue eyes seemed to lay your insides bare and his brow was roughened by a hard frown. He had a commanding presence, one that befitted the Prime Minister of Israel.
“Yosef __” Stanton got out quietly giving him an acknowledging nod.
Yosef nodded too __ his was so slight and quick that you’d wouldn’t see it if you weren’t paying attention. Stanton’s eyes grew hard.
America relationship with Israel had been troubled of late. Late President Howard viewed them as unstable and excessively rigid with their state level interventions.
They were a wild bunch, some had gone as far as to term them vicious; making themselves judge, jury and executioner on everyone with the misguided notion of doing their nation and people harm.
They weren’t great sharers of information either. Some key CIA sources hinted they knew of the coming darkness but did nothing to alert the rest of the world.
There were also rumours Mossad had a hand in the many assassination attempts on the scientist who brought the darkness into earth. The darkness many arms of the US military had taken to calling the ether-tome.
It was common knowledge they provided the weapon the Nigerian government used to sanitize Evonso Virus explosion on the island of Lagos. A weapon that caused the death of more than half a million uninfected people and infected a million others with radiation sickness.
The US state department was still in uproar about that and had wasted no time expressing their grievances to the Israeli’s who until now had refused to comment. An anonymous source inside Israel’s government stated they did what was necessary. Thinking of that information made him seethe with rage. The response was not only insensitive, but indifferent to the disastrous consequences of their actions.
This brought him to the conclusion that either every Israeli was a potential genocidal maniac or they were trying to stave something worse.
His eyes drifted through the ranks of those gathered. Nigeria was no
t represented at this gathering. A sigh burst from his lips. It wasn’t surprising. Word was the country’s government had crumbled. Repeated calls and trials of contact had yielded no positive result. The evonso virus he learned about a week ago was airborne. That in itself was another problem he’d much rather not have to deal with.
Yosef shifted ground eyeing him warily as did everyone in the room. Noticing, he cleared his throat and began to speak.
“My government is working on something. It’s unclear if it will be a viable solution at the moment.”
A ripple of noise ran through their ranks. Few faces looked pleased at Stanton’s evasiveness.
The Chinese representative burst out with expletives. Stanton sighed looking at the translator for help.
The man stepped forward once, took a deep breath and started talking. Donald raised his eyebrows in irritation. His stance and poise was like someone about to say his lines at a stage play or movie set.
He couldn’t help hoping not all Chinese were like this. It bordered on the melodramatic.
“Our esteemed leader insists you give us something. The way you choose your words irritates him greatly __” He paused when he saw the thunderous look flit across Stanton’s face.
Dark war or not __ it wasn’t wise to aggravate the Americans unnecessary.
“__ he requests you explain what your plans are. We cannot go back to our premier without something concrete to tell him.”
Stanton’s angry look softened somewhat. His aides and security operatives on the other hand still looked furious. They looked like they were inches away from pouncing on the Chinese and flinging them off the carrier.
Stanton closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “I cannot reveal specifics __ but we are working on something to protect us from the darkness’s attacks.”
Two dozen eyes narrowed at his words. The Russian contingent stepped forward, their eyes as wide as saucers.
“Is it a weapon?”
“___ I wouldn’t go as far as to call it a weapon. It’s more of a shield.”
“Shield? Are you joking?” It was the French representative speaking now.
“__ nothing shields us from the darkness’s attacks. If this is a new preventive technology that can help the world and the rest of us __ I think now is the time you share it. We cannot afford to keep secrets from each other, not now, especially at a time like this. Countless lives are at stake.”
Stanton sighed glancing at his advisors. Many were shaking their heads. It was a bit premature to reveal it. He got that much from their body language.
“You won’t happen to be talking about project Biosphere would you?” Yosef asked with one eyebrow raised.
Stanton’s jaw dropped. His aides and advisors had livid looks on their faces. A few started making furious phone calls. All representatives started talking at once.
Stanton stalked to Yosef seizing his arm in a vise grip. His security operatives were by his side in moments with their weapons held at the ready. As if on cue, dozens of heavily armed American soldiers surged into the room.
Donald edged in front of Kungawo prepared to shield him if the bullets started flying.
“How did you know about the Biosphere?” Stanton asked in a furious whisper. Even the head of CIA is unaware of it. So how did you discover one of our most closely guarded secrets?”
The smug smile that lit up Yosef’s face made Stanton want to punch him. Add that to the numerous reasons he wasn’t fond of the Israelis. He couldn’t believe people complained when Netanyahu was in power. Yosef was ten times worse.
“We have our ways Kyle __ you should have realized that by now. I’d advise you don’t rely too heavily on the Intel your off-world friends keep giving you. Chances are they have their own agendas and who knows? Might even be in league with this darkness that plagues us all ___ *for clarity read the ‘Event Series’
“__ if there is no further business my people and I would like to take our leave. There are preparations to make for the darker days ahead. Would you please let go of my arm?”
Stanton hissed and released him. Still smirking Yosef walked off followed by six of his armed guards.
Donald watched them go with some trepidation. This meeting wasn’t going the way he’d envisaged. He and Kungawo had come here seeking absolution for the Evonso virus plague and the threat of the darkness hanging over them. But as things stood they’d gotten none of that. All they had were a few veiled promises which no one was prepared to authenticate or verify.
Two dozen voices were still going on at once. He heard the word Biosphere used several times. But with the closed look on Stanton’s face, Donald knew no one was getting anything more out of him.
Collins eased into the backyard of the bungalow they commandeered. It was getting dark but the lights were off, which was a good thing when all was considered.
He and Judith had blocked out the windows. It wouldn’t do to have the infected getting attracted by the light. Even the generator they used was placed on a panel five feet into the well. That muffled the sound somewhat. And even if it didn’t, it was some distance away from the house that only the well was in any danger.
He caught a furtive movement at the curtain and sighed. Thank the gods she was following his instructions to the letter.
He got out of the car pulling the shotgun and bags of supplies out with him. The lock on the back door clicked open and Judith waddled out.
“Are you ok?” He asked noticing the wan look on her face.
“Am fine __ just worried about you is all. You were gone a long time.”
“Got accosted by infected. Almost didn’t make it out.”
“You see? I knew it __ you shouldn’t be going out on your own. I wish I could accompany you, to watch your back if nothing else.”
Collins leaned back and let out a guffaw of laughter. “You’d make a pretty sexy lookout my dear __” the grin on his face was positively devious. She couldn’t help smiling.
“You don’t change do you Collins?”
“If I changed my love you wouldn’t love me anymore.”
A twig snapping in the undergrowth made him whirl around with his gun raised. Judith backed back into the house with fear shinning from her eyes.
Tightening his hand over the bag, Collins slowly backed towards the back door. The rustling and snapping continued. He reached the door dumping the sacks on the floor in the corridor beyond it. Shifting the gun from his right to his left he reached for the handle and slowly slid the door closed.
A big rat crawled out of the undergrowth just before the door slid shut. A relieved sigh burst from his lips. They were still safe here it seemed. He’d loath to leave this place so soon, especially when you considered how comfortable it was.
He turned, smiling when he saw her hiding in the shadows.
“Scared my love?”
“Terrified __” She murmured with a shiver.
He crossed the intervening distance with a few long strides and took her into his arms. She hugged him tight breathing deeply into his chest.
“What was it?”
He frowned at the trembling in her voice. She was scared witless.
“Twas just a rat __”
“You sure? It made quite a racket.”
“It was a big rat.”
“I am scared Collins.”
He sighed hugging her tighter still. “It will be alright.”
She leaned back looking into his eyes.
“Do you really mean that or are you just saying it to make me feel better?”
A long pause followed her words.
“I think it’s a little of both.” His mischievous grin could not be ignored. Her lips curled of their own accord and she grinned back. Tapping her on the back gently, he led her to the sitting room.
“Would you like to watch a movie?”
“You sure it’s safe?” she asked worriedly, her eyes drifting to the window which was taped up.
“You sure the light from the TV won’t reflect outside?”
“We’ve been through this Judith ___ I’ve checked it over a dozen
times at night. We shouldn’t have any problem as long as we keep the volume real low.”
“If you’re sure it’s safe __” She said with a resigned sigh. Personally she wouldn’t have risked it, but she couldn’t blame him. There was literarily nothing to do all day except sit. You could go crazy with boredom. Not to mention the cable companies had since stopped broadcasting. It was an entertainment nightmare.
He smiled and kissed her forehead. A warm smile lit up her face. She didn’t recall ever feeling this loved. Say what you like about Collins, he had a way about him. God blessed him with the ability to make you feel better with just a couple of words, a touch or even a smile. He’d sure come a long way from the egotistical womanizing creep he’d been when they lived in Oraromi. Time and several near death experiences had a way of sobering a man up. Then he’d been a boy, now he was a good and loving man.
God was indeed a miracle working God. There was no gainsaying it. She let him help her onto the sofa as he walked to the TV to turn it on. Surfing through a large DVD collection they eventually decided on ‘The Mummy’ which was a movie they both loved and adored. Minutes later their shared chuckles and muffled laughter rang through the sitting room’s small confines.
Holocaust Page 31