She placed her forehead against the door almost directly opposite his, “Do you believe in karma?” she asked, but Will didn’t answer. “I do! I think that fate brought us together, for this moment in time. Promise me you’ll never forget me!”
Maya Walker sat down wearily on the floor, rested against the storage box doors and closed her eyes. Her hand waited precariously over a yellow button on the device and her eyes closed tightly.
After a short silence, she heard Will’s faint reply, “I promise!” he whispered softly. “After all, this is our destiny!”
An enormous plume of orang-yellow flames and black smoke billowed outwards in all directions, consuming Maya in the process. In seconds, the fire exit doors exploded off their hinges and flames belched out angrily. The force of the explosion upended the van that was obstructing the door.
Any radioactive material that was present in the air ignited and sent several additional explosions roaring outwards. The sirens were echoing deafeningly across Chapelsfield-A, as radioactive debris now filled the air, like snow falling on a winter’s day.
The explosion engulfed the entire east coast of England from Norfolk to Kent. The skies darkened and filled with a tainted hue, as the clouds changed colour. The skies darkened and filled with a tainted hue, as the clouds changed colour. The North Sea shimmered, as it’s waves reflected the nucleic carnage. Birds scattered frantically in all directions, away from the Chapelsfield area. In a few hours, everything would become still and calm, almost as though nothing had happened.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Flashback
Washington DC, 1980… Washington was the primary hub for all things political in the US. It was the place where much congressional and legal posturing was an everyday occurrence. It also attracted millions of tourists, who flocked to see some of the most recognised monuments, memorials and buildings.
As streaks of white cloud stretched across the clear blue skies and sprinklers moistened the lush green, perfectly maintained lawn. On Pennsylvania Avenue, many tourists waited excitedly outside the heavily fortified black steel perimeter. Behind the gates was probably the most iconic building in the world, numbered 1600.
The sun beamed and reflected off the prominent dome-shaped roof of the White House and its distinctive pillars, emphasising its opulence. There was a proliferation of toothy grins as cameras happily snapped-away. Flocks of tourists clambered over each other to get the best position as they happily snapped away. Others waited expectantly, in the hope they would get a glimpse of the President of the United States.
A little way to the east of President’s Park stood the DAR Constitution Hall, a historic building that basked in its neo-classical tradition. Built by the Daughters of the American Revolution in 1929, its colossal limestone columns evoked comparisons with the great pillars of the Acropolis or the mighty Parthenon of ancient Greece.
Traditionally, the DAR Constitution Hall hosted events that ranged from concerts to corporate meetings. Today, it accommodated the world energy conference. Standing on the stone steps were a huddle of ministers and other distinguished delegates from across the globe. They’d just been discussing their manifestos for energy production, provision and consumption on a global scale.
Dressed immaculately in expensive two and three-piece designer suits, with designer shoes, they all oozed political chic. The flashes from the paparazzi’s cameras sparkled off their expensive Rolex watches, as they exchanged warm smiles and handshakes.
A parade of media representatives had gathered at the bottom of the steps and were jockeying for the best spots. When the delegation reached the pavement, hordes of reporters immediately bombarded them with questions.
Almost an hour later, a small cabal had gathered for a clandestine meeting in the Bourbon Lounge, deep inside the Four Seasons Hotel. Present were the ministers from Japan, Mexico, Russia and the UK. Joining them was a US Senator, some consultants and a member of the Washington Post.
There was a distinctive ambience around the lounge and the wall uplighters gave the area a warm glow. Sitting around the large dining table, everyone looked contented, as their plates had scattered with remnants of the finest steaks that money could buy. Expensive crystal glasses contained the finest whiskeys from around the world, drenched over ice.
“So comrades, we are ready to move forward, yes?” asked Dimitri Bogatov in a thick Russian accent.
“Absolutely!” said Cameron decisively.
“What about logistics?” Kobayashi asked. “Our tests went well Walker-san, no?”
“Extremely well Mr Kobayashi,” replied Nathan Walker, as he bowed humbly. He also caught the gaze of the on-looking Mexican minister. “Sorry amigo!”
“Not to worry gringo,” said Hernan Gonzalez, waving his hand. “Ixtoc served as a reminder for my government. That they can ill-afford to lose the will of the people, who are already poor. So, they must loosen their purses and reach deep into their pockets,” he smiled.
“Where are we with the organisation?” asked Senator Cleveland in a deep southern drawl, as he looked at Baldwin-Jones.
“Recruitment is ongoing as we speak Senator and personnel are being thoroughly screened. Our numbers are swelling and the organisation’s growth is increasing,” said Cameron happily. “Operations will be primarily based in the UK but present company will remain in the loop,” he added before looking over to Alannah.
“Logistics, equipment and tech, we’re extremely well resourced,” added Alannah Cox. “Thanks to our friends in Tokyo,” she said, acknowledging Kobayashi.
“What about China and Pakistan?” asked Baldwin-Jones.
“Until we can be certain of their position, we’ll keep them at arm’s length,” replied Cameron. “…but they could prove useful in the future,” he said thoughtfully.
“What about the mission statement? The philosophy,” asked Senator Cleveland. “Popular opinion tended to show that people only bought into causes, which had strong underlying beliefs,” boomed the American.
Cameron extended an arm towards Alannah. She casually handed him a brown leather attaché case. Everyone watched silently, as he fiddled with the gold combination locks until both latches snapped-open.
Upon seeing the eagerness in their eyes, Cameron deliberately opened the case slowly and mysteriously. He took out a small red box and gave them one each. Soon they were all holding and admiring a twenty-four carat gold ring, shaped as two hands holding a flame embossed in red.
“Why two hands holding a red flame, ole buddy?” asked the US Senator.
“Da, I too was wondering about that Comrade Cameron,” added Bogatov.
“Quite simply, our philosophy is rooted in Greek mythology. The titan Prometheus defied mighty Zeus by stealing fire and giving it to mortals, to the people,” said Cameron. “Well, that’s we’re doing, taking power away from the corrupt government and restoring it rightfully where it belongs, in the hands of the people.”
Everyone in the room was transfixed on Cameron, as he spoke zealously, “Our ideology, our creed is furantur igne nos suae populo reddere populo,” he said.
“What does that mean buddy?” asked Randall Cleveland.
“Translated from Latin, it means we steal their fire, their power and give it to the people,” replied Cameron resolutely.
He looked around the room, staring into everyone’s eyes, before Senator Cleveland spontaneously raised his glass, “The Prometheans!” he toasted.
“The PROMETHEANS!” they all said in unison, as they raised their glasses.
✽✽✽
Oklahoma, 1988… It was an exceptionally hot day and heatwaves rippling around the trailer homes of Tahlequah Creek. The man watched, as the two young boys leapt and splashed about happily in the distance. A contented smile stretched widely across his face, as he reclined in his seat without a care in the world.
Wearing a light khaki vest and matching cotton shorts, the man interlocked his fingers behind his head and stretched out lazily
. As he sat in the shade under the huge awning, his wife strolled over carrying a tray in her hands.
The glasses clinked together and tinkled on the serving tray, as she placed it on a table. She took the two crystal tumblers and poured the drinks. The intense heat caused the condensation to drip down the side of the glass.
Cameron Cox took a slow sip, “Mmm, perfect!” he smiled. He continued to watch the boys playing in the distance. “Is everything set?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Alannah Cox. “He’s so young, he won’t understand,” she said apprehensively.
“He’ll be looked after,” Cameron reassured her. “I’ve already organised everything, accommodation, education, even financial,” he smiled. “He’ll have everything he needs, even a job when he’s ready.”
Alannah Cox looked relieved and drank nearly half the contents of her glass, as she sat down. She wiped her sweaty brow and immediately retreated into her own thoughts. The clothes she was wearing complimented Cameron’s, except her vest and shorts were beige and more fitted.
The faint lustre across her face combined with her strong athletic frame was not lost on Cameron. Alannah could hear his breathing change, getting deeper and stronger. She caught his gaze and smiled back at him.
“You know the boys are going to play right up until dinner,” she teased.
“I do!” smiled Cameron playfully.
After a few seconds of exchanged pleasantries and mutual body language, Alannah and Cameron got up casually and went inside their home.
Later that evening, striations of red cloud streaked across the darkening skies ushering in the sunset and promising another sweltering day tomorrow. The river was eerily calm as faint currents rippled across the surface peacefully and the humidity hung in the air.
The smell of stewed chickens and potatoes escaped through the open windows as it filled the room. Alannah had set the table with her usual aplomb, whilst Cameron had been preparing a hypodermic for Will on a small coffee table.
“Is that absolutely necessary,” asked Alannah.
“This’ll be the last time,” replied Cameron. “By the time William’s a teenager, he’ll no longer have to worry about things like asthma,” beamed Cameron hearteningly.
Alannah wasn’t convinced Will needed injections to boost his metabolism. However, in the face of her own limited understanding, she accepted Cameron’s wisdom. Yet, had she not turned around when Will came in for dinner, she might’ve seen the wicked glint in Cameron’s eye and a cold smile that creased his mouth.
Later that night, as Cameron crept silently around the trailer, he could hear the audible sounds of the crickets croaking away. Moonlight engulfed the dusty grounds around the trailer park and casted long shadows onto the ground.
The bestial sounds of prairie wolves and coyote’s fighting over food resonated across the distant darkness. It wasn’t really a contest, as the coyotes yelped and scampered away from a one-sided fight.
Cameron grinned mischievously when he heard movement coming from inside the trailer and galloped into a full sprint. His legs were much more powerful than the bleary-eyed Will and he ran towards the woods knowing Will would follow.
“Hey stop!” young Will cried out.
Alannah Cox emerged from behind the trailer, stepping very carefully and silently. She moved her head from side-to-side, scanning around slowly but remarkably, there was no signs movement from the other trailers.
For a brief moment, Alannah topped moving when she saw Billy’s mother, Ellie-May Johnson, peeking through her blinds. With minimal effort, Alannah took her cable cutters and severed the line to tank, which supplied gas to the trailer.
Instantly, gas hissed copiously from the broken line and soon its acrid smell started to fill the air. To ensure the damage was significant, Alannah grabbed a can of gasoline and emptied it. She poured it underneath the trailer, around the gas tank and walked it outwards to the back of the fencing.
Once she was clear, Alannah ignited the petrol and instantaneously a stream of flames trailed back towards their home. The force of the eruption shattered all the windows, sending splintered glass everywhere. Eventually, the gas tank ignited and propelled ferociously upward into the night sky.
The sounds and force of the explosion caused the other inhabitants to run out from their homes urgently. Without little concern for their own safety, the trailer park residents banded together to save the Cox’s family home but the intensity of the flames drove them back.
After thirty minutes of futility, their communal faces became sullen and they bowed their heads, grief-stricken. Billy-Jo was overwhelmed with grief at not being able to save his best friend and his mother Ellie-May comforted him, as he sobbed.
“Muuum, Daaad…” screamed Will horrifically. “No!”
Everyone turned their heads and was relieved when they saw young Will racing towards them. He dropped to his knees and stared at the flames. His clothes were dishevelled and hanging off his body from his pursuit through the woods.
Alannah and Cameron watched from a distance, as Will remonstrated and struggled with others, trying to get to his burning home. In spite of her strength, Alannah Cox couldn’t stop herself from being overwhelmed. As she looked on from a distance, flood of tears streamed from her eyes and the guilt of their deception overwhelmed her.
✽✽✽
Fyodorgrad, Russia 1993… Sat on the southernmost region of Ukraine, Fyodor was a small picturesque city, which overlooked the Dniprovska Gulf. With a humble population of under ninety thousand, Fyodor had an abundance of evergreen trees and forestry that gave it a rustic-urban charm.
The people living in the city were relatively happy and had communities that provided for every service they needed. Education, healthcare, trade, sports and recreation, Fyodor had its own cultural identity. One of the main landmarks that always featured in photographs and postcards was the Ferris wheel in the amusement park.
However, the most prominent building that dominated the landscape was the Fyodorgrad Nuclear Power Plant. Fyodor was the tenth nuclear city in the Soviet Union and its principal role was to serve Fyodorgrad. Consequently, the city was highly industrialised and transportation, particularly the railway station was an important passenger hub.
It was Sunday on the third day in February. The last thing going through anyone’s mind was national pride or great achievements in Soviet engineering. Toxic smoke had billowed out copiously from the flammable wreckage that was once nuclear reactor four. The skies had blackened with dark smoke.
The Prometheans’ plan was simplicity in itself. During a routine systems test, Nathan Walker had contrived an elaborate power surge. However, he got more than he bargained for when the Fyodorgrad nuclear technicians attempted an emergency shutdown. As a result, a large power spike ruptured the reactors.
A cascade of steam explosions hissed out fiercely, like an awakening volcano that was once dormant. The resulting explosion sent vast quantities of highly radioactive material airborne and strong winds blew it directly over western Soviet Union and parts of southern Asia.
Sitting in the bar of a hotel in St Petersburg, the group looked on horrified. There were several screens on the wall and news broadcasters all jabbered away with an intense professional calm. All the major networks worldwide were breaking the news at the same time, BBC, CNN, CBS and Al Jazeera, as well as the major Russian networks.
“Good lord!” uttered a shocked Clive Baldwin-Jones. “What the bloody hell just happened?”
“Bozhe Moy!” said Bogatov, visibly distressed.
Gonzalez’ glass dropped to the floor and shattered, “Madre de Dios,” he cried out, as he looked at the screen open-mouthed.
Alannah Cox covered her mouth with her hand and visibly started to tremble with shock. Mesmerized by the news on the television screens, a haunted expression soon fell across Nathan Walker’s face. Cameron’s face hardened and his jawline stiffened with tension, as he clenched his fists tightly.
“Cameron?” repeated Baldwin-Jones.
Mortified, Cameron started to speak, “That wasn’t quite what was planned,” he began then stopped short. “I’m sorry Dimitri, my condolences,” he said with more humility and bowed his head in shame.
Before he could speak again, Cameron became aware of the grave silence that filled the air. Everyone apart from Nathan was now looking at him judgementally, waiting for an explanation. Soon, the atmosphere thickened and turned to contempt and antipathy but no one raised their voices nor said anything, not even the Dimitri Bogatov.
“Da svidahnia comrades,” said Dimitri, not making eye contact with Cameron. “My people need me,” he added and immediately left.
“Adios amigos,” said Hernan Gonzalez. “Wait my friend, we will come also.” He said compassionately. “Are you coming Ando?”
“Hai!” replied Kobayashi instantly. He turned to everyone, bowed and followed the two men out of the room.
When they arrived near the safety zone, Bogatov, Gonzalez and Kobayashi weren’t ever going to get anywhere near the site, for obvious reasons. Resigned to that fact, they were shepherded away ‘to an area of safety’. Unfortunately, they had no way of knowing their scheduled driver was a last minute replacement, named John Bridge.
The events of Fyodorgrad had far-reaching consequences for Cameron and took a toll on his marriage. The cracks in his relationship with Alannah widened after her infidelity with Baldwin-Jones. Over the next few months, they went their separate ways.
Clive Baldwin-Jones eventually distanced himself quickly from the organisation and realised his own political ambitions. Over the years, he would use his considerable finances and influence to move into number ten Downing Street.
✽✽✽
Malvern Hills, present day… It was a sombre evening and all the major television networks were broadcasting the same thing on the news, the events at Chapelsfield. On the screen, an enormous plume of radioactive smoke could be seen billowing out of the building that was Chapelsfield-A.
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