“I’m Elaine, this is Glen and that’s Angus. Our friend, Geoffrey didn’t make it,” briefly pausing before continuing. “We’re from Scotland; part of a United Nations relief mission.”
“I’m Ethan Reid; WBS News and this is my cameraman Roy. We’re with the UN report team.”
“And this is Dr. Sam Quinn and I’m Alex Hunt. We’re — on the team as well.” Alex said with caution as she reminded herself of their mission being classified. “Do you have any medical supplies? Sam’s got a broken wrist we need to tend to.” Alex continued.
“Down in the bunker,” Van got up and proceeded to descend into the bunker. Alex followed.
“What is this place?” She asked as Van switched on his flashlight.
“This is what’s kept me safe the last three days. My hide-out.”
“Three days! You mean to say they’ve held you hostage here for three days? What would you have done if we hadn’t accidentally come to your rescue?”
“Wait it out, I guess. There’s enough here to last me a year.”
Alex shone her torchlight across the small underground room’s walls. Shelving lined the four walls from top to bottom; stocked with canned food, water and all the essentials a person required to survive. In the one corner was a toilet lid nailed to a rectangular chest; next to it, a small washbowl, soap and some towels.
“It’s a compost toilet” Van volunteered as he noticed Alex staring at the contraption with curiosity. “There’s a hole in the ground underneath. It’s how we did it in the old days. Here, this should do the trick with your friend’s wrist until we can get him to a hospital.” Van produced a splint and some medical supplies.
“Have you been living here on your own? I mean, where’s your wife and kids?” Alex asked with sympathy in her voice.
“My kids managed to find great jobs overseas years ago. My daughter got married and now lives in Germany and the other one is in Canada.” Van went quiet and walked towards the ladder.
“And your wife?” Alex pushed causing Van to stop at the foot of the ladder before he turned and replied with a voice filled with heartache. “She died ten years ago — breast cancer.”
Instantly Alex regretted her prying. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No need to apologize, Miss. I think the good Lord knew to spare her all of this. She wouldn’t have been able to live apart from her girls, much less live in fear of being murdered.”
“Why didn’t you leave with your daughters?”
Van, who until now still had one foot on the ladder, turned and faced Alex. “And leave my farm that has been in our family for three generations? Never! I watched my grandfather plough these fields with nothing but an ox and his bare hands and my father after him. We have put centuries of blood, sweat and tears into this farm; worked from sunrise to sunset every day of every year — through wind, rain and thunderstorms. Every crop that has ever come from this land was nurtured and grown by us and our workers who lived and worked alongside us from the very first day my grandfather bought this piece of land. I will die before I ever give up this farm to this nation who now claim they deserve it more than me.”
Van’s eyes were drenched in an equal blend of sadness and anger; his voice bitter and filled with pride. And without saying another word, he ascended and made his way back into the kitchen.
Chapter Seven
ICCRU headquarters - London
“I’ll be damned before I lose another team, General! Find them. I don’t care what you do or how you do it, but I need that plane located and fast!”
Matt slammed the receiver back in its place on his desk. Loosening his tie and his shirt’s top button he turned to look out the large windows. Rage flooded his tall athletic body as he contemplated the crisis. His hands were clammy on his hips and his heart pounded against his ribs. His inclination to be more active in the field challenged him once again. But against his better judgement he conceded to his board who insisted that he was of more value to their missions being commander in chief from behind his desk. It was at times like these he found himself fighting hard not to exchange his tie for a gun. Perhaps it was his perfectionist nature or being raised as a military brat that he felt the missions would run more smoothly had he been doing them himself. He ran a tight ship and his impeccable ability to always find a way around a problem was one of the reasons ICCRU was so revered in the industry. Matt pulled his tie out from underneath his collar. The thought of failing with this mission strangled his already tight throat. He forced the thought from his mind. It simply wasn’t an option. Matt Fletcher was the best in the business.
“Matt, we have a situation,” Jean-Pierre DuPont yelled across the room as he barged into his office.
“I know DuPont. We’re trying to locate their plane.”
“No-no Matt, it’s much more serious than that,” the French man replied in a hastened tone and shoved a large manila folder against Matt’s chest.
“What’s this?” Matt replied as he pulled a brown file out from the envelope and moved to the boardroom table.
Red letters on the file marked it as Top Secret. He flipped the bulging file open and skimmed through the pages and several photos.
DuPont was silent as he waited for Matt to catch on to the information he had just given him.
A white rim erupted around Matt’s mouth. “Tell me this is a mistake,” he said in an emotionless tone through tight lips.
“Unfortunately not.”
“You’re absolutely certain your Intel is correct?”
“But of course!” DuPont replied with a typical Gallic shrug and French pout.
Matt shut the file with force and paced around his desk.
“Do you realize what this means, DuPont? Bloody hell will this fool stop at nothing?” he vented before continuing. “Do we know why?”
“Apart from feeding his own selfish ego, no. He’s a billionaire, Matt. Does he need a reason? Has he ever?”
Matt sat down at his desk and allowed his eyes to take in the detail of DuPont’s extensive file. DuPont was right. The man never acted in anyone’s best interests but his own. Matt rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and then reached for the intercom.
“Sally, get me the general and patch it through to my secure line please.”
Turning his attention back to where DuPont still stood at the boardroom table, he walked around his desk and towered over the small French man. “Who else knows about this?”
“Just us, of course,” he said raising the tone of his voice while pulling his shoulders into his typical shrug again.
“Keep it that way, DuPont. We need to keep this under wraps. If word gets out this thing could blow up before we even come close to getting a handle on this. Not to mention jeopardizing the safety of Hunt and the rest of the team. Get as much Intel on him as possible, DuPont. We need to establish his motive and exact location; and cover your tracks. No paper trail, got it?”
“Oui Oui; on it,” DuPont replied in French as he left.
Matt moved in behind his desk and slung the folder across the clear glass top. He was angry. Matt Fletcher wasn’t a man who failed at anything, much less be defeated by a self-serving Russian billionaire who thought the world was his for the taking. ICCRU had power and influence and hell would freeze over before he allowed Ivan Volkov to exert his demented ambitions over the world.
The sound of his secure line propelled his reflexes into overdrive as he scooped up the receiver on the first ring.
“General?” Pausing for confirmation that it was him before continuing. “Any news?”
“Negative, Matt. There’s no sign of the plane and zero response on our communications.”
Matt swore under his breath.
“How the hell did this happen, General? I thought we were better prepared this time. Are they even alive? What was their last recorded location?”
“We were as best prepared as we could have been, Matt. May I remind you we’re at war here? At this stag
e we don’t know how close they came to landing. We had a distress call come in through a smaller airfield controller. The line was very poor and all he made out was that they were under fire and diverting off course prior to landing. We lost all comms shortly after that. I deployed a ground team but without knowing which direction they diverted to, it’s impossible to know where to start our search. It could take months scouting the variables.”
Matt shut his eyes in anguish and squeezed the top of his brows under his hand.
“Do we have reason to suspect a crash?”
“There’s a distinct possibility, but again, no evidence of it at this stage. It’s a waiting game, Matt but Commander Burger and his team are one of the best my army has. If the plane went down, I assure you, they survived it. Miss Hunt’s ingenuity isn’t to be forgotten either.”
The general sensed Matt was holding out on him. “What’s really going on, Matt? Is there something I should know?”
Matt glanced at the file on his desk and stared at Ivan Volkov’s photograph that had slid out halfway onto his desk.
“We have verified Intel that Ivan Volkov is after the tooth too. We’re uncertain of his motives at this stage, but we do know he will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
“Volkov? As in the billionaire from Volkov Industries?”
“One, and only.”
“I don’t understand. What would an aeronautics engineer want with a fossil?”
“That’s the million dollar question. Or in his case, four billion dollars. The man is somewhat infamous for his absurd inventions and theories and let’s not forget suspected of being involved with the KGB. If this relic holds any significance to him, Hunt’s life is in danger. He’s a heartless bastard that goes hard after what he wants. But with his Russian ties we’re going to have to tread lightly around this. I don’t want the Russian government at our door. I have DuPont seeing what he can dig up, but we need to find Hunt. We can’t have Volkov blindside her. They’re going to need reinforcements, and General, I don’t need to remind you it’s classified, right?”
“Affirmative Matt, I’m on it. I’ll find them.”
Alone with his thoughts Matt studied the folder. Volkov was squeaky clean with a reputation that preceded his brilliance in space engineering. NASA had contracted him on several occasions and it was no secret recent explorations to space and the Mars expedition were mostly accredited to his technology. Volkov Industries defied the ordinary; a clear frontrunner, and their recent success with the launch of an airborne vehicle didn’t disappoint. The man was lightyears ahead in research. But Matt held fast to his suspicions that Volkov was dirty underneath his untarnished facade. No one gets in bed with politicians and governments across the world without hiding skeletons in their closet.
Matt’s anger turned to annoyance as he failed to find something in the file that would get him closer to knowing why Ivan Volkov would want to get his hands on a three hundred thousand year old fossil’s tooth. He was up to something, Matt knew it.
ICCRU had the power and resources of every government agency in the world at its fingertips and if it meant he had to get as dirty as his enemies, then so be it.
Chapter Eight
“Perimeter is clear Sir and all entrances secured. We found bodies at the river, Sir.” The soldier leaned in as he delivered the news in his leader’s ear.
“Good job. Take up your posts.” Commander Burger instructed his men after which he turned his attention to the civilians who still sat around the kitchen table.
“Van, how many workers did you have?”
Van looked up in horror. “Did? What do you mean did?”
The commander cleared his throat. “I’m afraid to say it seems they didn’t make it. We found bodies at the river.”
Elaine let out an emotional yelp and buried her head in her hands.
“How many?” Van asked.
“Four, one male and three youths.”
“No one else?”
“Negative. How many are missing?” the commander continued.
“Just one; Thembi. She’s their mother and my housekeeper. She might still be out there. I have to find her.” Van pushed himself away from the table and checked the barrel of his rifle before hastily heading towards the door.
“I think it’s best you let us handle this Van,” the commander stopped him.
Van pulled his shoulders back as he readied himself for an argument but in a brief moment of sanity instantly backed down. He was worn out from hiding in his bunker the past three days and in no physical condition to encounter any foes.
“My men and I will find her. I have two men patrolling outside the house but just to be sure, lock the door behind me and stay alert.”
Van nodded and with a heavy heart took up his seat again at the table. Alex, who had just finished splinting Sam’s wrist, moved across to lock the door behind the commander.
True to her Scottish roots, Elaine rolled up her sleeves and busied herself with the messy kitchen and a fresh pot of coffee. It was how Elaine MacDonald coped so they let her be.
“Why did you say it was black against white? What did you mean?” Ethan questioned Van.
“It goes back to Apartheid. They just can’t move on from that,” Van replied.
The reporter looked puzzled. “Care to explain what you’re referring to?”
Van shook his head at the reporter’s obvious ignorance. “You’ve never heard of Apartheid? Doesn’t surprise me. It seems the world has turned its back on this country; forgetting that Africa opened the gateway to foreign trade. Now we’re rubbish, junk status. Forgotten and left to fight it out on our own. Ever heard of Mandela?”
“Of course,” Ethan replied. “What about him?”
“Nelson Mandela was supposed to symbolize peace but did you know he wasn’t let out of prison because someone proved his innocence? His political crimes were pardoned because he was a pawn in a game far bigger than anyone realized at the time. He marked the end of an era called Apartheid where white and black people were forbidden to live in the same neighborhoods, dine at the same restaurants, frequent the same clubs or share the same public toilets. Total segregation in a white dominant country. Was it just? Of course not! But it was law; set by the then leaders of this country based on decisions they made long before many of today’s citizens were even born. And unfortunately not everyone was happy when the ban was lifted; black as well as white. It changed everything and the country’s playbook got entirely rewritten. Now, decades later, the scales have tipped and we have an entire generation burdened with hate, unable to forgive; seeking to punish the whites for the past. Contrary to what the world sees, there are an increasing number of whites living in extreme poverty in many of the same conditions as the previously disadvantaged blacks who make the news every day. It goes both ways. Many of us have moved forward and embraced the changes to legislation and governance whether we agree with it or not. We’re trying to rebuild this country — together. But fighting against hatred is a mammoth task so many have given up. Others still fight it and those who have the ways and means, seek greener pastures. As for me, I’m stuck here. My children are safe and that’s all I care about but they will have to kill me before I surrender my heritage.”
Van had Alex, Sam, the reporters and volunteers hanging on his every word as he shared his views when a group of soldiers banged on the kitchen door to be let it. Amongst them a badly beaten female held upright by two of the men.
“Thembi!” Van cried out sharply as they carried her into the kitchen.
Thembi barely had the strength to stand up. Her severely swollen face made it hard for her to see anything. Dry blood lay thick on her chin and down the side of her face. Her clothes were ripped and torn off her body exposing her nakedness in places. Elaine, who had already caught on that she had been raped pulled the table cloth from the table and covered her with it.
“Bastards!” Van exclaimed throwing his chair over as he rose to his feet and r
ushed to her side. “What have they done to you?”
“Let’s get her in a bath,” Elaine instructed Alex. “It might be best if we get her cleaned up and rested.”
Van flew into a rage as the women helped Thembi to the bathroom. “Bastards! I’d kill them with my bare hands if they were still alive!”
“But they’re not, Van. You should calm down. She’s safe now,” the commander cautioned.
“Safe? This is exactly what they do. They rape, murder, plunder and destroy and no one does anything about it. They don’t care about skin color! They do whatever the hell they want! Do you know how many of their own women get raped in the back of the taxis and busses on the way to work every day? They’re heartless and out of control and Thembi didn’t deserve this!”
The commander encouraged Van to sit back down. Van wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Thembi is like a sister to me. Her family sought refuge here when they fled Zimbabwe after the exact same events happened there. Her parents worked this land hand in hand with my father. We’ve never set ourselves apart because of the differences in our skin color; even during apartheid.”
Van paced the room still overcome by anger and sadness when Alex re-entered.
“She’ll be ok Van. Elaine’s going to take good care of her.”
Alex beckoned to the commander to join her in the other room. “Any luck with the comms, Commander?”
“Negative, Miss Hunt. It took too many bullets. The satellite chip took one too. I have my men trying to maintain a frequency to send off a morse code SOS to command but there’s no way of knowing how long that will take — or even if we’ll be successful at all. In the meantime we’re staying put. The perimeter is secured and all entrances barred. ”
“Sir, with respect, we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere with no comms and as you are well aware I have a mission to complete. Sam’s out of action so I have no choice but to go at it alone. I’d like your permission to take two of your men with me, please?”
The Alpha Strain Page 5