“If I say, ‘economic collapse,’ does that mean anything to you, Andrews?”
“Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“No, absolutely not.”
“Everything started this morning. Stock market experts and other specialized analysts haven’t been able to say what caused the sharp drop in security prices. Very quickly, the effects began to weigh more and more heavily on the entire system. Our satellite network is down. At 10:30 a.m., the president tried to issue an official press release, one they could never broadcast. The power generators began to shut down then, one after the other, across the country.”
“Could it be. . .”
“A coordinated viral attack?” replied the officer in a serious tone. “That’s the rumor that’s been going around in the services in the last hour, Andrews.”
“Speaking of communication, I need to be able to contact my superiors as soon as possible, Captain.”
The police officer grabbed a landline telephone on a shelf. He put the phone on the desk, facing the agent.
“Here, Andrews. It’s a secure line.”
29
Crouching under a mound of dead branches, Eliott was trying to breathe silently. He didn’t like the rasping that came from his throat. He heard the soldiers stomping through the woods around the ruins, searching for him in the distance. He raised his hand to eye level and wiggled his long fingers, which released swirls of black particles. He was becoming aware of his Sentinel body. His slender frame blended perfectly with the branches. He appreciated his power of concealment and strength, which could bring him up off the ground in an instant to grab a vulnerable human being and devour him in seconds. But it was no longer time for hunting. He was full. Two men from the scientific mission had left the ruins to take samples from the nearby valley. They had come to him like two lost sheep. Their flesh had been delicious, almost sweet, filled with their fervor. He had snuffed out their last moments of life and drunk their blood until he had drained them completely. A sinister smile played along his prominent jaw, hinting at the sharp teeth that gave off a smell of death.
In addition to feeding on their flesh, he had found the information he was looking for on them. The files on their digital tablet had revealed the destination of the helicopters that carried the creatures: Snezhnogorsk, a small town on the edge of the Central Siberian Plateau in Russia.
He felt a sense of compassion for the unconscious creatures in their sarcophagi, manhandled by the soldiers who hauled them like common goods. After all, these beings were his brethren. But he was still deeply divided. On the one hand, he had almost gotten used to the horror of his carnivorous instincts. Yet his human reason led him to repel the unknown force besieging him. He reassured himself that the light of his human soul was stronger than the darkness of these creatures. The aftertaste of the blood in his mouth sometimes seemed sweet and pleasant, but other times it generated a deep repulsion for the being he had become.
“What should I do now?” he wondered. He attempted to regain control, to stay clearheaded.
If he could control this force, it could be help him achieve his objectives, those of Special Agent Eliott Cooper.
*
Lauren climbed onto a table.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please,” she called out in a loud voice. “I’m Agent Chambers. I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. My mission here is to establish a place where we can work together to solve some of the problems that will arise for you, the citizens of St. Marys, and more generally for all the citizens of the United States of America. In case some of you are still unaware of the situation, our country is facing a major crisis. Soon, malfunctions will seriously affect our daily lives. First, I will ask you to consider the seriousness of the situation without panicking or developing unfounded fears. Law enforcement and political authorities will be able to provide effective and useful solutions appropriate for each of you.”
A man raised his hand and waited for Lauren to call on him. “My wife and two daughters are in town, and I can’t contact them. Can I go meet them and bring them back here after I pick them up?”
“Of course, sir, you are all free to leave the restaurant. I’m just here to answer your questions and help you as much as I can. The purpose of this center is to communicate and provide a place where we can help each other and provide moral support.”
The man waved to the other customers and stepped out of the restaurant.
“Does anyone else have questions?” Lauren asked.
An elderly lady timidly raised her hand. “My grandson works at the sawmill on the outskirts of town. I’m worried, with all these accidents. He was supposed to pick me up here, but he’s already very late. What should I do, please, miss?”
“Ma’am, there’s nothing to worry about. The accidents have caused more traffic jams in the city than real victims; your grandson is probably stuck in backed-up traffic.”
Lauren addressed everyone in the room.
“St. Marys Hospital will make available to the public a list of people admitted for injuries from accidents, whether automobile, domestic, or whatever else. This list will be available by email, since only email currently works on the internet.”
A very heavy man with a thick beard and baseball cap, said impatiently, “Great, thanks a lot. Can we go home now?”
“Like I said before, you are free to go,” Lauren replied calmly. “If you leave the restaurant, I will just ask you to leave your names and contact information on the paper on the table by the entrance. By signing this sheet, you agree to be part of this help and support group, and you are welcome to come back if you wish or feel the need.”
“Perfect. Thanks. Bye, everybody!” The man tipped his cap to everyone and left the restaurant under the questioning looks of most of the people there. Everyone watched him leave, cross the parking lot, and then climb behind the wheel of a large tractor-trailer. A group of parents and children followed the truck driver, politely saying good-bye to the others and filling out the paper at the entrance.
Lauren occasionally glanced at the parking lot to see if Andrews had come back. She had decided to use her plan B to approach him. She would just tell him that she didn’t believe the stories told at the office about Eliott and the acts he had supposedly committed. She would justify her presence in St. Marys by her wish to find out what had happened to Eliott. Andrews, like all the other agents in the Bureau, thought she and Cooper were flirting. She could expertly manipulate Andrews. Because of his rivalry with Cooper, he would try to seduce her; she was sure of it. That would just make it easier to get all the information he had gathered since he took over the St. Marys file.
She finished the briefing and let the manager take care of the people who had chosen to stay, most of whom were part of a group of energetic sixty-somethings. Some went to a table and improvised a game of bridge, while the others bombarded the poor manager with questions. Lauren sat down away from the others and opened her laptop. She inserted the USB key on which she had downloaded the material stolen from Andrews. She skimmed the file called “Hohenwald” Andrews had received from the German authorities. She then viewed the official autopsy of the three suspects with astonishment. Andrews had noted that agents from a federal forensics unit had beaten him to the morgue in St. Marys. He had also recorded his telephone conversations with Interpol Agent Patrick Fournier in audio files. She had enough work for at least two solid days.
Around five p.m., the manager came in to announce that a live television broadcast was about to take place. All the TV channels had stopped broadcasting until then due to the general breakdown of power stations and satellite transmissions. Ten minutes later, everyone was facing the screen in the restaurant’s main dining room. The broadcast opened with aerial images taken from a helicopter flying over the White House and a text announcing a press release from the president. Absolute silence fell over the room. The president’s grave face appeared wit
h no other introduction than his silent arrival behind the Pentagon’s official lectern. A constellation of silver camera flashes filled the room.
“My fellow citizens, once again, America must cope. And the ordeal we have to face will be among the most difficult we have ever known. As you have undoubtedly heard, a major global economic crisis began this morning, catching all the forecasts about the short-term money markets off guard.
“In the coming days, the impact on people’s everyday lives will grow. For many of us, the changes that this crisis will impose on us will be difficult. But I want you to know that the government is currently working to provide lasting solutions. Countries around the world must stop depending on economic instability for their development.
“I have just spoken with some financial analysts. They are already raising the possibility of the end of the economic system as we know it. So the question is, what will replace this system?
“My dear fellow citizens, my brothers and sisters, hard times are coming, and all of America will have to unite and grow strong through brotherhood and sharing. We must not give in to discouragement or panic, for they mean defeat and division. The course of human history is punctuated by trials such as the one we’re about to go through. They have all been lessons for humankind, who benefited from them. They all enabled humanity to evolve. The United States will come out of this stronger.”
The president nodded to the assembled crowd and left the lectern. The White House press secretary took over. The presidential speech had been deliberately short but powerful. The journalists all raised their hands and waited their turn to ask questions. The press secretary called on the first journalist.
“What are the repercussions going to be, and what are the first problems American citizens will face?” the journalist asked.
The press secretary cleared his throat and took a deep breath to highlight the importance of his words.
“First, I want to reiterate the president’s instructions when he asked the American people to come together and not to give in to discouragement or panic. As many people have noted, the internet is experiencing serious malfunctions, which are due to technical failures in our satellite network. The—”
The young journalist interrupted him.
“There are rumors that this is a coordinated attack, launched against the internet by professional hackers. What do you say about this theory, Mr. Press Secretary?”
The man glared at him. “Well, that theory remains a theory. The Army chief of staff very recently took drastic measures to reinforce internet surveillance. And for now, I can confirm that the source of the internet malfunction is not an intentional attack. Next question, please.”
He called on another journalist. “Sir.”
“James Bremont, New York Times. When the president mentions the end of the economic system, the citizens have the right to expect the worst. The president is trying to reassure us with this announcement, telling us that the government is working to implement a system to replace the one we know. If I may say so, Mr. Press Secretary, the president’s speech was very evasive.” A murmur of agreement rose to support the journalist’s comment. “Can you tell us what measures will counter the problems that arise?”
In a clever move, the press secretary concealed his discomfort by turning the question into a clear attack. He countered immediately.
“Sir, the president wasn’t evasive in any way, shape, or form; he perfectly outlined the course of action in its entirety. The point of this press briefing today isn’t to resolve problems whose exact nature is still unevaluated. At the present time, our job is to anticipate these problems, not offer solutions, as they haven’t yet occurred.”
The press secretary’s words only stirred up some of the most aggressive journalists even more. The security team made several of them leave the premises.
The Pentagon pressroom quickly descended from a state of disorder to one of general conflict. Nearly all the journalists were demanding “explanations the government didn’t want to give.” Some spoke of political conspiracy, others of gross incompetence, and still others called for the president’s resignation. Security cut the press conference short, unceremoniously emptying the room by force.
The group of sixty-somethings who formed the core of the crisis center at the Pizza Hut were stunned. How could the president have been so rude? He hadn’t responded to a single one of the questions all America had the right to ask.
Lauren suddenly had a thought that made her blood run cold. The theory of a political conspiracy one journalist had mentioned made her consider another more terrifying possibility. She pushed the thought away. It generated a fear in her she didn’t want to feel. But the thought stayed with her—deep down, ready to resurface. As if endowed with free will, it rooted itself in her subconscious: Hominum primus. Lauren felt that it wasn’t just a possibility. Her intuition had rarely been wrong before.
She glanced out at the parking lot and saw Agent Colin Andrews’ white Lexus parked in the spot she had vacated three hours earlier. She dug an old lipstick out of the bottom of her bag. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d used it. She went into the restroom and put on her makeup. She thought her mouth was naturally sexy without that kind of help. And her green eyes were enough to turn on three quarters of the guys she met without adornment. But she figured that a guy like Andrews—who was as unemotional as an undertaker and rough around the edges—would need it. He would surely give her his full attention if she acted a bit like a slut. She wasn’t very happy about that. It violated her independent woman’s code. But after all, it was just a role. She would have the advantage, even if he decided to screw her on the edge of the bed in his room. That’s the kind of guy he was—serious and stern when you first met him, but a sex fiend in bed. He didn’t try to charm anyone. He was good-looking enough that he simply waited for the fish to take the bait. And he surely didn’t have to wait too long. She slid her long, perfect legs into black leggings and put on high heels.
When Andrews opened his hotel room door, he didn’t show any surprise. “Chambers.”
He looked her over from top to bottom. He had never seen her dressed like this. “What brings you here?” he asked coldly.
“I need your help, Andrews. I’m in St. Marys because of what happened to Cooper.”
The composure on Andrews’ face slipped a little.
“Come in.”
He opened the door wider and invited her to sit down. “Do you want something to drink?”
“What have you got?” Lauren crossed her legs and shot him a slightly languid look—but not too much.
“Gin, martini, whiskey? I even have a bottle of Chianti. If you want, we can get something to eat.”
“I’m just thirsty at the moment. I’ll take a gin.”
He poured her a glass and held it out to her with a smile. He served himself one too and sat down across from her.
“We’re headed toward big problems with this crisis—really big,” he commented.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I spent the afternoon giving civics lessons in the Pizza Hut next door.”
“Who told you I was here,” he asked bluntly.
“I have my sources,” she said, a little provocatively.
“You have your sources?”
He kept smiling, but with a predatory glow in his eyes.
“Who are your sources, Chambers?”
“They wouldn’t be my sources anymore if I gave them away. Besides which, everybody at the Bureau knows you took over Cooper’s case.”
“But what about the Holiday Inn? Did you follow me?”
“Pure chance. I reserved a room here last night. It’s just about the only decent hotel in town, and it has the Pizza Hut next door. I love pizza.”
“I don’t quite understand your motives, Chambers. Are you in St. Marys to find Cooper? Are you supposed to arrest him? I can hardly believe they’d give that mission to you.”
“I came here on
my own because I don’t believe for a second that Cooper just suddenly went crazy for no reason—and even less that he could have done those things. I knew him well, very well. He was my instructor.”
“Okay. Then what’s your version?”
“I think our superiors are hiding the truth. They’ve classified all the details of that famous night when Cooper allegedly caused bloodshed. Does that seem normal to you?”
“Are you questioning the chain of command?”
“Listen, Andrews. I don’t think Cooper could have done that. I don’t know what really happened that night. But I’m convinced it has nothing to do with him.”
“I don’t see what I can do for you, Chambers.”
“I need your help to shed light on what really happened. I need all the evidence you’ve collected since you took over the investigation.”
He couldn’t help laughing.
“Chambers, Cooper was playing it close to the vest. He already had serious psychiatric problems.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Supervisor Mullay hinted to me that his last report from the personnel shrink wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.”
“I don’t trust the hierarchy anymore, Andrews.”
“Are you serious?”
“There have been too many gray areas in this case since it started.”
“Chambers, our superiors’ decisions to make certain information confidential aren’t up for discussion. We’re agents. We have no authority to judge or challenge these decisions.”
“You knew Cooper as well as I did. You know he wasn’t crazy.”
“The main thing I know is that you were having an affair with him. You’re emotionally involved.”
She leaned toward him, offering his eyes a plunging view of her bare breasts under her white blouse.
“Does that bother you?” she asked, giving him a cheeky look.
The Essence of Darkness Page 23