‘Top marks. Syrian children in besieged cities are enduring permanent stress, sorrow and suffering,’ Hellerman agreed. ‘If you’re looking for the kind of girls who can provoke poltergeist activity or perhaps second sight, you couldn’t pick a better spot.’
‘I take it that we’re going to head out there at some point,’ Lopez surmised.
‘Right after Utah,’ Hellerman confirmed. ‘Whatever the Russians are trying to do it needs to stop. From what little we can gather they’re using these Trans Cranial devices to their absolute limits, and that can’t be doing their already psychologically damaged subjects any good what so ever. Your mission for now is simple. Get to Utah and interview a girl there who we think may have some connection with what the Russians have been doing in Syria. This isn’t just an intelligence gathering mission: it’s a humanitarian one, and any girls out there right now who are being used by the Russians in this way have nobody thinking about their welfare but for the two of you.’
‘And Jarvis?’ Lopez asked, evidently still thinking about the money.
Hellerman sighed.
‘I hate what he did, but I don’t think that he should be persecuted the way the administration is doing. They’ve virtually ordered Nellis to track Jarvis down and apprehend him, and they’re offering us all vast sums of money to do it. Something doesn’t add up to all of this and I don’t like it.’
‘Us either,’ Ethan said before Lopez could reply. ‘We’ll stay in touch, and let’s keep this little deal they’re offering us between ourselves for now, ‘kay? If it turns sour, we don’t know how far the government will go to keep it secret and I don’t think that Nellis will be able to protect us.’
***
VII
Rose Island, Nassau
Bahamas
The golden sands of the beach were warm beneath the Caribbean sun as Doug Jarvis strolled casually toward a sheltered cove and listened to the whispering of the rollers brushing against the nearby shore. There were no tourists this early in the morning, the sun only just up over the perfect horizon and painting the skies with golden hues as though from the brushes of the high cirrus clouds sweeping through the heavens above. As he walked, a single word revolved around in his head in a gentle lullaby.
Billionaire.
Jarvis had always wondered what it would be like to be wealthy beyond avarice, to have more money than one could realistically spend in a lifetime. Now, he knew. For the past six months he and a small band of very fortunate individuals had lived a life that they could barely have imagined before, and all of it funded from the coffers of men who had once believed themselves both infallible and untouchable, the cabal of Majestic Twelve. Now, thanks to the courage and cunning of both Jarvis and a biochemist billionaire by the name of Professor Rhys Garrett, whose father had been murdered by a member of MJ–12, the cabal was no more and the vast majority of its assets had been filtered and laundered through hundreds of companies across the world before being absorbed by Garrett’s own immense trading empire and distributed to Jarvis and their companions.
Rhys Garrett had made his own fortune with a series of start–up companies developing advanced genetic profiling kits for hire to the pharmaceutical industry, and then selling the companies one after the other as new start–ups under the banner of his company. He had countless patents to his name, many of which had earned him tens of millions of dollars. Although he had once worked alongside departments of the United States military, his connections and skills in finance had allowed him to make Majestic Twelve’s immense finances vanish without trace, a task made easier by the fact that the cabal’s ill–gotten gains were already tough to locate and examine, held in countless off–shore accounts to which Jarvis and Garrett had gained access. As a token gesture, they had left three billion dollars in place so that the administration would still be able to provide evidence of a successful mission to eradicate corruption within the military industrial complex, satisfying the media and ensuring that Jarvis and his accomplices could vanish as if into thin air.
‘Good morning.’
Several people were waiting for him in the cove ahead, faces that he knew well and trusted with his life, largely because in many cases he had saved theirs.
Rhys Garrett stood and shook Jarvis’s hand, as did the other members of the team; Jarvis’s granddaughter, the palaeontologist Lucy Morgan; Civil War survivor Lillian Cruz from New Mexico; Amber Ryan, the niece of inventor Stanley Meyer whose fusion cage would have brought down the world’s oil industry were it not for him being murdered by Majestic Twelve, and Aaron Mitchell, a hulking African American who had once worked as an assassin for MJ–12 before betraying them and joining Jarvis in the mission to eradicate them from the face of the earth.
The six of them sat down together around a small table in the sheltered cove, and Jarvis happily allowed Garrett to speak first.
‘Now that we’re all here for our monthly meeting, I’ll update you on what’s happened since we last spoke. Obviously, our ploy of remaining incognito as much as possible has paid handsome dividends. As of this moment the Defense Intelligence Agency has no idea where we are, what we’re doing or where we’ve been. Although it is possible that they have used technology to watch us, perhaps identified that we’re working together, it is unlikely that they have any real leads on our current whereabouts. I represent the only true link to what we’ve achieved, and there have been no enquiries into my business from any legal or law enforcement agencies in the last six months. It is highly unlikely that any agency will now be able to unravel the money trails that I’ve created and even if they did it would take several years to follow those trails to any of you.’
Jarvis leaned back in his chair, satisfied with Garrett’s work, but his granddaughter appeared less convinced.
‘I can’t believe that we’re as safe as you seem to think that we are,’ Lucy said. ‘It’s been six months and we haven’t yet done a thing with all of the money you said we took from Majestic Twelve. I thought that we were here to start saving lives, not sit on gigantic bank accounts and crow about how clever we are.’
Jarvis smiled, admiring Lucy’s unwavering sense of philanthropy.
‘We can’t just go out there and start throwing money at charities,’ he explained, ‘just as none of you can start suddenly buying mansions. The DIA will make connections instantly, so we have to be careful and especially so when it comes to you Lucy, or your mother Rachel. They know that you could lead them to me and will be watching constantly, because I’m the only person they think ran with the money.’
‘I agree,’ Garrett said, ‘Lillian and Aaron have lived in the shadows for years and are used to maintaining a low profile, but you and Amber both need to continue with your normal lives to avoid raising suspicions.’
‘I get that,’ Amber replied, ‘but we still haven’t even begun to work on my uncle’s fusion cage. Just that one device could crash the oil and energy sectors overnight, bring down the fat cats at the top and end their seven figure salaries and bonuses.’
Again, Jarvis had the answer for Amber’s impatience for her late uncle’s free–energy device to reach the common market.
‘And lose the jobs of thousands of ordinary workers,’ he pointed out to her. ‘You really think that those fat cats will let their jobs go before those of the people working for them? Their companies will contract with massive job losses before the fat cats you mention finally surrender to the inevitable, and even then they’ll seek bankruptcy protection from the federal government. Before you know it, they’ll walk off with seven figure severance deals and the thousands of ordinary people employed by the companies will get nothing. This has to be handled carefully, planned to the last detail to avoid a global economic crash and unnecessary suffering for ordinary people.’
Amber bit her lip as Garrett continued.
‘We have to assume that the DIA will continue its mission to track down the remaining finances we took from Majestic Twelve to fund our new miss
ion, and in doing so they will come after us. Our plan to avoid arrest is simple: we make ourselves indispensable to the government.’
‘We’re going to do what now?’ Amber asked.
‘We’re going to take back the knowledge that they have spent so long covering up,’ Jarvis replied for Garrett. ‘I spent most of my post–military career working for the government, and I can tell you that the DIA alone has concealed some of the most incredible secrets you can imagine. These are things that could change humanity, that could render the wars of today a thing of the past and yet they’re concealed from public view just so that the United States can gain a secret advantage over other nations. That, in a nutshell, is our mission.’
Amber Ryan peered at Jarvis. ‘You’re going to be a big whistle–blower then?’
‘With a difference,’ Garrett interjected. ‘When we blow the whistle, we also let the cat out of the bag for everybody to see. We’re not just going to contact world media and start spilling the beans on the fusion cage or alien autopsies. Our plan is to actually distribute to the people the physical evidence that supports what we’re saying.’
Lillian Cruz got it instantly.
‘By which means you gain the public trust sufficiently to come out of the shadows once more.’
‘Ideally, yes,’ Jarvis agreed, ‘although it may not happen that way. Vested interests ensure that there will be more than a few people willing to kill to prevent us from achieving what we’re hoping to. Corruption and greed are what brought the human race to where it is today, and some are more than happy for the status quo to remain.’
‘So what’s our first move?’ Lucy Morgan asked. ‘As I understand it we have around thirty billion dollars to our name but we don’t have any access to it and I’m still working in my laboratory five days a week. How are we supposed to achieve anything when some of us are still holding down day jobs?’
Garrett smiled as he replied.
‘We have spent much of the past six months figuring that out,’ he said. ‘You will each have a responsibility, a role within our organization. Lucy, you will be required to apply your scientific knowledge and discipline into the study of artefacts as and when they are found. Amber, you’ll be in the field and travelling at will as you have the least level of surveillance of any of us. Your inheritance after your Uncle’s death has secured your future, so the government will figure you’re unlikely to be involved in a conspiracy such as this. I’ll act as your liaison as I too am not under any suspicion from the DIA, who believe that any involvement I had with Majestic Twelve is now over, given their collapse.’
‘Why aren’t they interested in you?’ Lillian asked him. ‘You were instrumental in bringing the cabal down.’
‘A cabal with whom I was conducting normal business,’ Garrett explained. ‘Before Jarvis and I cornered the cabal on my island in South America, I bought stocks and shares in their companies as proof of honest investments made before they visited me in Dubai and America. I lost a lot of money when the cabal collapsed, or so the government believes – why would I be involved in their collapse if I stood to lose millions of dollars?’
Lillian looked at Jarvis. ‘So you took the fall. They think you’ve got all the money.’
‘It was the only way to divert suspicion,’ Jarvis explained, ‘and I needed Garrett’s help to pull it all off. I couldn’t have done any of it without his financial support.’
Lucy Morgan rubbed her temples with one hand. ‘So what now?’
Garrett did not reply, but instead looked at Aaron Mitchell. The towering assassin stood and spoke in a soft, melodious voice.
‘My connections, formed from my employment with Majestic Twelve, remain intact and I continue to receive a flow of information from former MJ–12 plants within the intelligence community. Many of them were variously bribed or blackmailed into providing information to the cabal, and I have cultivated their loyalty in return for guarantees that neither they nor their families are in danger of being liquidated if they fail to deliver accurate information. It is a compromise that is serving us well.’
‘We have a mission,’ Jarvis confirmed, ‘which you’ll be pleased to know is humanitarian in nature.’
Mitchell leaned on the table as he spoke. ‘Our target is a human trafficking ring being run by the Russians in Syria.’
‘Modern slavery,’ Amber Ryan spat in distaste. ‘I can think of worse places to start.’
Jarvis smiled. ‘It’s not the slaves we’re looking for,’ he said. ‘It’s the ones they keep behind we’re interested in.’
‘What the hell good will that do?’ Lucy asked.
‘The Russians have taken a keen interest in Syria,’ Garrett explained, ‘not because they want to save the people of the country from civil war but for their own interests, a predictable reason. Most people think that Russia wants Syria’s regime to survive the conflict simply because they’re pro–Russian, but in fact the true reason is natural gas.’
Jarvis nodded as he took over.
‘Oil is falling out of favor in the west due to decreasing demand and the rise in renewables,’ he explained, ‘but gas is the new wonder fossil fuel and Russia has a lot of it. It wants to protect that reserve and trans Syria pipelines are under threat if the regime is toppled during the civil war. Hence, Russia steps in and bombs anyone and anything that stands in the way of their profits, even if it does happen to be in a civilian area.’
‘Once we have enough information I will travel to Syria,’ Mitchell said, ‘and begin the task of unraveling the Russian influence on the ground while also exposing the traffickers to arrest by international law enforcement.’
‘And the human victims they leave behind?’ Lillian asked. ‘What’s that all about?’
‘We’re not sure yet,’ Jarvis replied. ‘That’s why I’m travelling to DC as soon as I can to find out why the DIA are so interested in what’s happening down there. My hope is that Ethan Warner and Nicola Lopez will be despatched to investigate, so that Aaron can locate them and glean more information.’
Lucy Morgan raised an eyebrow at Mitchell. ‘Good luck with that. Have you ever seen those two in action?’
‘At close range,’ Mitchell confirmed, ‘but they know me well enough to let me speak. My concern is Lopez, who has always been rebellious.’
‘And what about me?’ Lillian asked. ‘How do I fit into all of this?’
Jarvis reached out and patted the back of her hand.
‘You, my dear, will be our eyes and ears on the ground. You’re unknown to the government, to anybody at the DIA except Ethan and Nicola. You have no Social Security details, no history, no bank accounts, nothing. You’ve been a ghost for a hundred eighty years and so you’re the only person we can be sure is able to travel freely around the globe. But first, we need to get to the bottom of what MJ-12 were doing.’
Lillian leaned forward on the table. ‘How?’
Jarvis smiled, keenly enthused by the degree of control he now had to investigate things that had been ignored by the DIA.
‘We’re going to get to the bottom of what inspired the creation of Majestic Twelve,’ he promised her. ‘We have acres of their paperwork in our possession, and I want to know what got them started, when, why and how. Then, we’re going after it.’
***
VIII
Glavnoye razvedyvatel’noye upravleniye
Grizodubovoy str. 3,
Moscow
Colonel Anatoly Mishkin walked into the headquarters of the Main Intelligence Directorate in Moscow, keeping his chin high and his stride determined in the hopes that nobody would notice his anxiety. The GRU building was an angular, blocky construction that both departed from the old Soviet style of architecture while somehow retaining its bleak nature. Built from gray steel panels and surrounded by concrete walls topped with vicious barbed wire that glinted in the weak morning sunlight peering through tumbling blankets of cloud, few ordinary Russians ever entered, or wanted to enter, this building. E
ven the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union needed to go through a security screening to enter GRU headquarters.
The foyer of the building had a floor cast in marble which was emblazoned with a large image of a bat, the emblem of the Spetsnaz Special Forces, the agency’s logo mounted on the opposite wall over an image of the earth as though Russia had already laid claim to it. The GRU’s official full name was the Main Intelligence Agency of the General Staff of the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation, and it was Russia’s largest foreign intelligence agency, deploying six times as many agents in foreign countries as the SVR, the successor of the KGB‘s foreign operations directorate. Tens of thousands of Spetsnaz troops were also under its command, the agency given the role of handling all military intelligence from sources outside the Soviet Union.
Colonel Mishkin was new to the agency, having previously served within Spetsnaz as both an infantry soldier and then as a troop commander. His time in Chechnya had hardened his heart and his soul to almost anything a theatre of war could throw at him, but now he had realized that this new assignment had put him far out of his depth. Mishkin was no data gatherer. He was a soldier, and this new form of warfare irked him immensely. Cryptography, espionage, surveillance; all of it felt as though it were the work of someone of less stature than a decorated war veteran. He knew that the GRU operated residencies all over the world, along with a dedicated Signals Intelligence station in Lourdes, Cuba and throughout the former Soviet–bloc countries, and that it served an important role in his country’s defensive structure, but that didn’t make him feel any better about being stuck in an office instead of commanding men in the field.
Mishkin took an elevator up to the fourth floor and followed the signs until he reached the office of the agency’s director, General Sergei Olatov. Mishkin checked his watch: ten in the morning in three, two, one… He took a breath before he knocked on the door and after a muffled “enter” he walked in, literally arriving on time.
The Genesis Cypher (Warner & Lopez Book 6) Page 5