by Ian Edward
But he had his finger on the trigger. He’d shoot if he had to and he was certain now he was going to have to.
Donnelly nodded to Casey, whose hand moved back over the console keyboard. Almost immediately the water filling the tank slowed as the water coursing through the tubes stopped.
‘Unlatch the door, then move back,’ Adam instructed the man standing nearest the tank. ‘Now!’
The door was unlatched and opened. The water filling the bottom half of the tank flowed out.
‘Everyone up against the wall.’ Adam moved forward. Coming closer, he recognised the face of the man who’d opened the tank door. It was the face of the crewman photographed on the hunters’ boat by Jean Farrow’s son. That picture had been amongst the many items poured over by the task force.
There was a maze of corridors surrounding the lab, one of which led to the building’s rear dock.
Half lifting, half dragging the drugged Daniel from the van, Erickson and Tannen were halfway along the walkway when they heard Adam’s voice. It was quite clear, an echo bouncing along the cavern walls.
‘What the hell…?’ Erickson’s voice trailed off. ‘Leave the boy,’ he said to Tannen, gesturing for him to follow. They moved past the lift doors and came up behind Adam.
This time it was Erickson who drew a gun.
Weighed down with anxiety, Kate returned to Stephen’s lab, hoping he was back. She needed to talk to Reardon about her discovery, but while she waited for him to reappear she still wanted to tackle Hunter about his affair with Rhonda – and about his experiments on the mice. Rounding the corridor she heard Westmeyer’s booming voice: ‘Take a break, guys, while we show our visitors the work here.’
Kate stepped back and smiled at the two lab assistants as they passed her. ‘Stephen’s back but he’s in a private meeting now,’ one of them said.
She shrugged good-humouredly. ‘Guess I’ll try again later.’
Once they’d gone, Kate checked the corridor – empty – then moved to the lab entrance. Before using her security card to gain entry through the sliding doors, Kate peered through the glass. Stephen was in his office, leaning against his desk. Westmeyer was there, together with two of the dark suited men who’d arrived earlier. Potential investors.
Or were they? If nothing else here was what it seemed, then it stood to reason the “potential investors” weren’t either. So who were they?
Hunter’s office backed on to the corridor space that housed the rear “goods” lift. Adam was due back, returning from that lift, any time. Kate followed the corridor to the spot outside the rear of the office. Pressing her ear to the walls here she could hear the voices of the men quite clearly.
There was a finality to Asquith’s tone as he addressed Hunter: ‘We’re installing a series of explosives throughout the Institute and it’s important to me you’re across everything that’s happening here, Stephen. Your continued role with Delta Chain is vital.
‘Once the explosives are activated, the building will collapse in on itself. Destruction will be total. There’s a threefold benefit to this – firstly, the sub-level will be completely sealed off. And as no one knows of its existence there won’t be anyone digging to find it. Even if this blasted task force’s suspicions about the activity here causes additional digging, the sub-level and everything in it will have been crushed.
‘Secondly, there will be little enough left for anyone to find anything that threatens exposure of Nexus. And third, responsibility for the bombing will be claimed by an international anti-science, terrorist group called Back To Basics, or the BTB group as various Federal agencies call them. You know of them?’
‘Of course,’ said Westmeyer. ‘Involved in a number of senseless acts over the years, including that big one, recently, in Russia…’
‘An oceanographic institute the terrorists claimed was conducting genetic experiments on dolphins,’ Hunter recalled. ‘But what have they got to do with this?’
‘You’ll make it appear they’re the ones responsible,’ Westmeyer guessed.
‘There is no Back To Basics,’ Asquith revealed with a smug expression. 'It’s an imaginary group created by Nexus to take the blame in scenarios such as this, where we need to perform an act of destruction on one of our own bases, or that of a competitor.’
‘What was the Russian thing all about then…?’ Hunter began.
‘Not your concern but…’ Renshaw piped in, glancing at his boss before proceeding. Asquith gave a nod. ‘…we’ll let you in on it.’ The weedy little man was thoroughly enjoying this mission with his Nexus superior. ‘The Russian scientists were experimenting genetically with dolphins. We wanted to put them out of action, that’s something on Nexus’ own agenda. The Russian building was demolished in the same way that the Institute here will go down. Federal agencies here and overseas will make the link immediately.
‘What’s more, we’ll make it even more convincing, and put an end to further investigations into last night’s murders, by linking it with Melanie Cail. We didn’t have anything to do with her death. Apparently that was some pathetic little attempt at covering up by Mr. Donnelly.’ Renshaw sniggered here, a stomach turning blend, Hunter thought, of a school bully and a corporate thug. ‘But it can be of great benefit to us.’
‘Explain,’ said Westmeyer.
Hunter picked up on the frustrated world-weariness to his mentor’s tone. He knew Westmeyer hated Asquith and the whole Nexus thing as much as he did. Westmeyer had put up with it because of the enormous financial advantage, the chance to pursue his dream – the Delta Chain project, his obsession since his Vietnam days.
Asquith took up the explanation: ‘Melanie Cail’s act of data sabotage was simply for her own journalistic ambitions. But it could also be easily seen to be an act of BTB terrorism. Our cyber boffins can hack into the databases of the necessary Australian and U.S. agencies and plant Cail’s name on their list of suspected BTB members.’ Asquith turned his focus to Hunter. ‘By the way, Stephen, I’m sorry about Ms. Cail’s murder. An unnecessary act by Donnelly. I understand you were having sex with her. My commiserations.’
Hunter merely stared back at him. What sort of freaks were Asquith and Renshaw?
How did he even know that Asquith was genuine in his comment? His damning of his own man, Donnelly, could have been a pretence, for the purpose of keeping Stephen on side.
How the hell had he ever got involved with them?
But of course he knew the answer to that. Because of William, because of the project, because of the speech: that it was all for the greater good; for the benefit of Man; that a few deaths along the way for science was nothing when compared to the millions of deaths in wars… He had believed it. Really believed it.
When had he stopped believing? He wasn’t sure. After Rhonda?
Or now, after Melanie?
He’d stayed away from the human experiments in the sub-level, but he hadn’t been able to avoid reading about the girl washed up on the beach. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But it had.
When had he stopped believing, stopped being able to turn the blind eye? Perhaps it had been a little at a time, a little of the idealism, a little of the passion, eroded slowly day by day.
‘I don’t know why you’re involving me in these meetings,’ Hunter remarked icily, ‘I don’t need to know all of…this.’ He wanted to walk out in disgust.
‘As the senior scientist on Delta Chain you’re second only to William. You need to know exactly what is happening and why. And I need you to advise me if our plans jeopardise anything we haven’t allowed for?’
‘Such as ?’
‘Such as the resources on the sub-level. We’re well under way with backing up the DataStorming lab results and DNA sequences at HQ, but given the urgent need to commence the relocation is there any-’
‘We don’t need the reptiles and we’ll be starting afresh with a new subject for the completion test,’ Hunter said, avoiding use of the term “human”, resentin
g being drawn in further. ‘However, to avoid re-supply of the reptiles, the blood is needed…’
‘Taken care of,’ Asquith said. ‘A road freighter with the necessary gear to cryo- freeze the blood storage units will be here, loaded up and gone again, within the hour.’
Hunter smirked. ‘You won’t be able to load them that quickly-’
‘Can. And will. Anything else?’
‘Yes. A question. How can you demolish the building today, when you’ve only been here a few hours. It takes weeks of preparation, even for the top demolition firms.’
‘You forget those teams are going in, having to plan their demolition from scratch,’ Renshaw explained. ‘Obviously, Nexus has had the Institute’s layout on file since you’ve been here. We already had a precautionary demolition plan worked out, not just for the Institute but for all the buildings housing Project Babel schemes. What’s more, we don’t need to worry about being as precise as a commercial demolition. We don’t need to ensure surrounding buildings are safe, as there are none.’
‘So the whole structure will just…collapse in on itself, completely, within minutes?’
‘Less,’ Asquith said, drawn in by his pride. ‘A controlled demolition is about implosion – small amounts of explosives strategically placed in the structural columns of the building and detonated in sequence. Gravity then steps in to do the rest. The explosives just get things going.’
‘And we use a specially created Nexus method for laying the explosives,’ Renshaw said. ‘Instead of spending days laying detonating cord between the explosives’ blasting caps, we’ve developed computer controlled digital sensors to do that job instead, controlling and detonating the explosives in a delay pattern. So yes, a Nexus demolition takes just hours instead of weeks.’
‘The moment the data transfer is complete the demo team will have finished positioning the sensors,’ Asquith said. ‘We’ll shut down the computer network. All staff will be advised the system is down and they’ll be told to take the rest of the day off, so the place is clear when detonation is activated.’
‘What if some of the staff work back regardless of the system being “down”?’ Hunter asked. ‘Staff here are dedicated, some will work on in spite of IT problems.’
‘That’s not your concern.’
There was an uneasy pause as the inference of Asquith’s words took hold.
‘You can’t just go ahead if there’s innocent people-’
‘Not your concern.’ Asquith didn’t have time for this. Scientists. A necessary pain in the butt. ‘When you agreed to come on board, Stephen, you knew this was a covert operation. You’re one of the few who do, and even then it was only because of your outstanding potential in blood genetics and William’s insistence you be part of the executive team. You may choose to ignore the unpleasant aspects of a military research project like this but you knew the deal when you signed on.
‘You didn’t mind reaping the benefits, having the chance to lead a team on a revolutionary breakthrough, the “cover” of not having to go through decades of mundane industry laws and codes. If it’s any consolation, we’ll make every effort to ensure no one is left in the building. As for yourself and William, you’ll be flown out tonight with the rest of the management, under the cover of attending a specially convened scientific think tank in New York.’
Hunter didn’t respond. He averted his eyes from the military man’s stare.
He wasn’t evil; he’d never thought of himself as evil. He’d been selfish and weak, not allowing himself to think about the inhuman practices that the Nexus Group undertook. And that, he suspected, was also true of William. Grabbing for the prize with both hands while turning away from the inhumanity. Doing a sales job on his soul that it was acceptable because it was for the greater good.
And of course it was bullshit.
He looked at William and saw not the great man he’d once revered, but the tired shell of a man who’d given everything to his obsession, who’d sold out his soul, all their souls, to the twin devils of power and greed.
CHAPTER SIXTY THREE
After their encounter with fisherman Hughie Jones, Kirby and Harrison had raced to the Cail home. With no answer at the front door they moved around the back. As they did, Costas, Barbara and Joey were slowly stirring from their drug induced stupor.
Kirby broke into a run. ‘Call for back up,’ he instructed Harrison as he knelt beside them. Thunder rolled from the distant corners of the sky and a light rain had started spitting down from a ceiling of clouds.
Kirby didn’t need to search the premises to know the boy had been taken.
Jean Farrow reflected on the irony that caused her to be sitting in the back of an idle taxi in the very street from which a boy had been taken – forcibly she now realised – and transported to the rear dock of the Institute. She couldn’t let Kevin’s killers be responsible for the murder of yet another young man.
‘I’ve a favour to ask you now,’ Jean said to the driver as he pulled up in front of the Institute’s main entrance.
He was a craggy faced, middle-aged man with a strong Aussie twang. ‘Just name it, missus.’
‘Could I use your radiophone to place a call to the police. It’s…an urgent matter.’
‘Yeah? Well then, sure you can.’ He picked up the handset. ‘Jillie, can you patch me through to Northern Rocks police. Got a lady here who needs to speak to them urgently.’
‘This may sound a little…well, dramatic,’ Jean explained, her tone apologetic, as she waited for the call to be placed.
‘Lady, you would not believe some of the things I’ve seen and heard driving this cab.’
Heart racing and breath catching in her throat, Kate rushed to the front area of the second floor. She felt a deep fear, as great as the one she’d felt when running from the croc hunters in the Marakai wetlands. She couldn’t let these men know she’d overheard them.
William. And Stephen. She could scarcely believe they’d be involved in anything like this…
Rounding a bend in the passageway she collided with James, just steps away from his temporary office. ‘Whoa, Kate.’ They steadied themselves and Reardon could see, immediately, that Kate was distraught. ‘You okay?’
‘Fine.’ She sucked in a deep breath, composing herself. Reardon took her gently by the arm and led her into his office. ‘You know, Kate, I was looking forward to seeing you this morning…but I was concerned, and so is Betty, that you’re back at work too soon.’
‘I’m okay, James. Really.’ She felt better, sitting here with Reardon in his office. The men in Stephen’s office didn’t know she’d been listening. It was business as usual as far as they were concerned. She didn’t feel normal but she had to pretend she did.
‘I know how you must be feeling, but Kate, you really need time-’
‘No, James, I’m sorry, you don’t have any idea how I’m feeling-’
‘Okay, but-’
‘No buts. And if you think I’m not acting myself, then you’re right…because it’s not like me to come in here, on impulse, to log onto your PC and retrace the steps you would’ve taken tracking the PING for that virus hacker.’
He started forward. ‘Why…?’ His voice trailed off, his eyes levelling on hers.
‘Like you said, not acting myself. Something about this whole Melanie Cail thing didn’t …gel. Maybe I thought I’d come across something new, something you missed, I don’t know. It was an impulse, and as you know, I do impulse, don’t I?’
Reardon leaned back, relaxed. If he’d been startled it was only momentary. ‘You sure do.’
‘It was a different IP to the one you said. Not Melanie Cail’s at all. You see, while it made sense for her journalistic ambition to leak those documents, the computer hacking just didn’t fit…when I followed the electronic trail back through the “hole” it bounced right back to A.B.C.S. itself. Your IP. Your laptop.’
‘Kate - I know lying about that IP number wasn’t ethical. But it’s a
lso not as sinister as you might be thinking.’
‘It’s not?’
‘No.’
‘Do you actually understand what ethical means, James?’
‘Let me explain – from the beginning.’ He leaned back in his chair. Kate had never seen her boss look so serious. ‘Before Rhonda died she’d mentioned feeling uneasy. Something not right about the terminals brought to her for repair, and not linked to the network as we’d set it up. And there was activity she believed was sometimes going on at night, at the building’s rear, in an area supposed to be dormant. She mentioned these things in passing, she wasn’t certain about it. We were going to discuss it further if her feelings continued. After her death my own suspicions were aroused. I went into Rhonda’s files and read her diary for further info.’
Realisation dawned on Kate. ‘You were the one who deleted her diary from her Institute PC.’
‘I didn’t want anyone out there stumbling on those entries. If they did, and they thought others at A.B.C.S. had seen them, then any of us could have been in danger. By now I was sure something was wrong, that Rhonda’s death hadn’t been an accident. But I had nothing substantial to go on, nothing to go to the police with. I needed another link to the Institute, so I’d know what was going on here.
‘With Rhonda dead and her set-up work nearly as good as complete, there was no further reason for Westmeyer to have an A.B.C.S. consultant on site. His admin people had the necessary basic IT knowledge. But I needed someone here, someone to be our eyes and ears.’
‘Me.’
‘Yes. To create an opportunity I hacked into the network and created the “hole” through which the virus could be sent and re-sent.’
‘And of course you knew exactly how to manoeuvre around the very “firewalls” that you originally built.’