The God Complex: A Thriller

by Murray Mcdonald

  “Avi said we should get more tactile,” said Ben.

  “Tactile, not crude,” said Avi. “And keep your eyes on the road. Watch where you’re going!”

  Ben turned just in time to take the sharp bend that had appeared in the tunnel. He steadied the vehicle as the light began to grow at the end of the tunnel. Bursting into bright sunlight, they continued on. Ben had never driven the road before but recognized every yard of the final mile towards Chalus.

  “Coming up to our turn,” he announced. He took the nondescript road located three quarters of a mile to the north of Chalus. The sign was in Arabic and simply said ‘Mountain Road’.

  Half a mile down the road, they pulled to a stop at a small, deserted picnic area, shadowed by the mountain looming above them. They unpacked their kit, and within five minutes, they were on their way again. Had anyone spotted them, they looked no different than any group of hikers or climbers, other than the two couples were now hand in hand as they walked. They were two young couples in love, or at least being more tactile, as ordered.

  Ben led the way. He had an incredible eye for detail and had studied every inch of the terrain on the satellite images he had spent the last few days devouring.

  “It’s a quarter of a mile up there,” he said, pointing towards a small break in the bushes.

  ***

  The Takavar troops lay prone amongst the bushes when the four hill walkers passed them. The Iranian Special Forces team was amongst the elite of the Iranian forces and answered only to the supreme leader himself.

  “Targets have just passed us,” the Takavar troop leader whispered into his headset. His seven men awaited his orders.

  The alert had been raised at the border a couple of hours earlier by the border guard. On any other day, the alert would have been ignored. However, given the nuclear disarmament treaty, the Iranians were under no illusion that the Israelis would not attempt a strike to disable their capabilities, resulting in the dispatch of the Takavar troops to detain the spies.

  “They are now setting up a picnic with a clear line of sight down the access road. Should we take them now?”

  The leader’s fist remained closed. His men remained still. His orders were to hold until told otherwise.

  ***

  The picnic venue was spectacular, a small hilltop overlooking a green valley that ran towards looming mountains in the distance. A road cut through the valley and disappeared off into the mountainside. The picnic was unpacked as planned with two containers being set off to their side. The front of each of the containers was pointed in opposite directions, one towards the road and the other one hundred and eighty degrees in the other direction.

  To anyone looking, they looked exactly like every other Tupperware container they had unpacked.

  Small pinholes, almost invisible to the naked eye, were set into the side of each of the two containers, both shining invisible laser beams into the distance, at exact and precise angles.

  Hannah donned her sunglasses and thanks to the lenses could see the two laser beams shooting off in opposite directions.

  “Okay?” asked Avi.

  “Yes,” said Hannah.

  Avi opened a bottle of champagne and poured a bit for everyone. “To a nuclear free world!” he toasted.

  ***

  Nevatim Air Base, Israel

  “Sir, they have deployed the laser guidance system,” announced one of the air traffic controllers.

  “Are we in position?”

  A number of affirmative answers echoed around the room.

  “Commence the attack, in three, two, one, go!”

  A clock began the countdown; ten minutes to strike.

  Eight targets were highlighted on the Iranian map, each one correlating to an Iranian nuclear facility with the potential to further Iran’s nuclear capability. All eight targets were to be struck in unison.; four aircraft to each site with eight to Chalus. It was to be a decisive attack with overwhelming force to ensure the Iranians were not about to become the only nuclear armed state in the world, something that Israel could not and would not accept, under any circumstances.

  ***

  Chalus, Iran

  The Takavar leader was becoming increasingly nervous. Something was amiss and he was doing nothing.

  “What are our orders?” he asked again over his headset.

  “Wait until further orders,” came the terse reply.

  “They’re doing something!” he said. His men were as keen as he was to defend their nation against whoever these spies were. And from the look of them, he was guessing they were Israeli or American.

  “Wait. Do nothing until ordered,” came a voice he recognized and would never question.

  ***

  F-35 Squadron Leader - Chalus

  “Base, we have acquired guidance system, on course to drop in one minute.”

  “Roger, Chalus leader, sixty seconds, you are a go for release.”

  “Roger.”

  ***

  Tehran, Iran

  The air defense map showed the location of the forty F-35 strike aircraft. The Iranian equipment was not quite as outdated as their American and Israeli counterparts thought it was. A number of missile launchers were silently tracking each and every one of the Israeli jets and had been since they had crossed Iranian borders. The Sayyad-2 missiles, unlike the specifications leaked, were more than capable of downing the F-35s, particularly given the vast number that were being utilized.

  “It looks like they are about to strike,” advised the head of the Armed Forces to his small audience, the supreme leader and President of Iran.

  He looked agitated. “Should we strike now?”

  “No,” replied the supreme leader with a nod of agreement from the President. The two men had a plan of which only they were aware.

  “They are about to lay waste to our nuclear ambitions,” argued the military head. The board lit up with warnings as hundreds of munitions were launched from the forty fighters.

  The supreme leader smiled. “Actually, they have just secured them.” He stood and led the President out of the room.

  “What about retaliation?”

  “No,” said the President. “Not possible, they have to think we didn’t have a chance.”

  “And the spies?” asked the military chief.

  “Capture them, they’ll be useful later,” said the President. “They’ll have witnessed Chalus’ destruction.”

  ***

  Chalus, Iran

  The first bomb swooped over their heads and crashed onto the road surface, almost immediately followed by another seven. It was a bizarre sight. The large bombs cracked against the surface of the road and bounced, skimming off the surface and down the road, each subsequent bounce reducing in height and distance. It was easily a mile to the entrance to the tunnel ahead but the bombs followed each other’s path very precisely. The World War II bouncing bomb had its modern equivalent. Only these were designed to a far higher specification and required far less skill to pilot.

  The two boxes did all of the targeting work. The first gave the optimal angle for the bomb to follow on its way in, while the second pinpointed the ultimate target - the underground storage facility for the Iranian nuclear arsenal, buried deep inside a 16,000 foot mountain.

  The eight bombs struck at different times but all waited for the last to arrive before dispelling its explosive might. Even though protected from the main blast that was contained within the mountain a little over a mile away, Avi and his team were still thrown off their feet by the overwhelming force of the combined explosions.

  By the time they were back up, each had two Heckler & Koch G36 sub machine guns pointing at them.

  “Shit!” said Avi, looking into the faces of eight very pissed looking Iranians.

  Chapter 34

  President Mitchell shared a toast in the Oval Office with the Vice President, Senator Noble and the Secretary of Defense.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, raising his gl
ass, “to the Israelis.”

  “The Israelis,” they all chorused.

  The news report playing in the background relayed to the public the United States’ outrage at the unwarranted act of aggression by the same people they were toasting.

  A knock on the door preceded the entry of CIA Director Travis Davies.

  “Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, Mr. Secretary, Senator,” he greeted each as he walked across the office.

  “Any news?”

  “We’ve recovered another three bodies from the Potomac. They’ve been positively ID’d as three of the four men who posed as Secret Service agents and kidnapped the Speaker. We presume the fourth man killed them. They’ve all been identified as foreign guns for hire. Paperwork on them links them to the terrorists, so it is all connected. As for the main terrorist group, the twenty Afghans, we can find no links to any of the major terrorist networks. Nobody’s claiming responsibility. It’s as if they acted alone.”

  “Impossible,” said the Vice President. “The complexity of what they engineered, the evidence against us?!” He waved around the room. “The connections, the paperwork, the weapons? It goes on and on, this wasn’t twenty Afghani fighters working alone.”

  “What about the two CIA guys?” asked the Secretary of Defense, much to Travis’s embarrassment. “Perhaps they masterminded it?”

  Travis opened his mouth but was cut off by Senator Noble. “I’d vouch for those men personally, they had nothing to do with this. I’ve met them many times through our committee’s work and there aren’t two more loyal men in our service,” he said proudly.

  “Well thank you, Senator. Unfortunately your words are a little too late and somewhat surprising given your help in tracking them down.”

  “My words stand. So much so, that I staked my reputation on them,” he said, taking another drink. It was the final complication left after his attempted coup.

  “You staked your reputation on shooting down my two men?”

  “Technically, I never gave the order. Jim Walker gave that order, it was not for me to give.”

  “Okay, you never technically ordered their plane down but I believe you arranged the situation that allowed it to happen.”

  “Those men would never have harmed this country. Unlike you guys, they were not in safe custody, they were facing the wrath of every vigilante or trigger happy cop in the land.”

  “So you shot them out of the sky?” asked the President, incredulous as to what the Senator was trying to say.

  “No, I made the world think we had shot them out of the sky.”

  The room silenced as they processed the Senator’s words.

  “You didn’t shoot them out of the sky?”

  “A little sleight of hand with our friends down at Creech Air Force Base.”

  “Creech?” asked the Secretary. “You shot down a drone?”

  “Well, it was an aircraft, but a pilotless one.”

  “So my guys are okay?” asked Travis, smiling for the first time in hours.

  “I assume so,” said the Senator.

  “Assume?”

  “Given I have no idea where they are now, it’s all I can say, but they’re not being hunted so…”

  “They’ll be fine then,” said Travis. He was elated. “They can look after themselves.”

  “Now you must excuse me,” said Senator Noble. “I have a number of calls I need to make.”

  “Of course,” said the Vice President.

  “Senator?” said Travis, chasing him out into the corridor.

  “Yes, Mr. Davies?” said the Senator, slowing down reluctantly; he was keen to get away.

  “We think the malfunction in the PEOC was a deliberate attempt on your life,” Travis said.

  Another bonus, Antoine’s actions to kill Bertie had added to his alibi.

  “I assumed it was. They wanted us all dead.”

  “Yes,” replied Travis automatically. “And thanks again for my guys, that was quick thinking and clever work!”

  Senator Noble nodded with a smile, accepting the thanks but could see the questioning look in Travis’ eye. He wasn’t fully buying the Senator’s bullshit.

  “I’m not sure if you knew, but my niece, Anya, was great friends with Professor Harris at university. It’s made me keep an extra special eye on young Cash,” said the Senator, leaving Travis to ponder that additional nugget of information.

  “I never knew that,” said Travis, watching the Senator stride away, his cell phone already at his ear.

  “Conrad!” said Senator Noble into the phone when his less powerful nephew answered.

  “Uncle Bertie!” exclaimed Conrad in surprise. Antoine had not told him what was to be done with him.

  “I owe you a heads up, I need to cover up the assassins still being alive.”

  “I thought you killed them?”

  “No, what made you think that?”

  “You. You called and told me you had sorted that problem,” he said.

  “As in the hunt, I stopped the hunt.”

  “There was a news report they were shot down,” said Conrad.

  “All a sham. Anyway, I had a lot going on, you obviously didn’t get the right end of the stick.”

  “Yes you did and I didn’t have an end to choose from, you only gave me one, the problem was fixed.”

  “Yes, they weren’t being hunted.”

  “Whatever,” said Conrad in frustration. “I need to get my team looking for them.”

  “Are they not already? Antoine will be—” began the Senator, goading his nephew.

  “Don’t even try it. This is your fault,” Conrad cut in, finally losing his patience.

  “Well you’d better hurry. The CIA is as keen to find them as you are!” Bertie reached his car, a rueful smile on his face. His driver opened the door for him, revealing a dark haired beauty in her mid-twenties. Her skin glowed, revealing a Mediterranean heritage. Her eyes, dark and gleaming, were intoxicating. Her hair was swept tightly back against her head into a ponytail. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  “Hi,” he said, breaking into a smile, unable to escape her captivating eyes.

  “Antoine sent me,” she said coldly.

  The Senator’s smile disappeared. She was a killer. A member of an elite and very select band of assassins. Very few knew they existed, and even fewer had the ability to contact them. As old as the Noble family, they had been in the business of killing almost as long as the Nobles had been in business.

  “Get in,” she said.

  “You’re going to kill me,” he said, his voice shaking.

  “If that were the case, you’d already be dead. I’m to chaperone you until told otherwise.”

  Chapter 35

  Sophie, for the first time in hours, raised her head from the laptop and the professor’s research. A small jolt had disturbed her train of thought.

  “Welcome to the top of the world,” said the steward, offering her a refill of her coffee.

  “Top of the world?” asked Sophie, looking out of the window at what seemed to be a fairly flat area surrounded by mountains.

  “We’re over 13,000 feet above sea level,” said the steward. “We’ve landed at El Alto Airport in Bolivia.”

  “Thank you,” she said, holding out her coffee cup. “How are my travelling companions?”

  “Both sleeping, the quiet, scary one, the whole way; the cute one fell asleep a couple of hours ago.”

  “Thanks.” Sophie grinned tentatively. Hearing the steward refer to Cash as cute reminded her of exactly how much she was attracted to him herself. Those thoughts, however, had to remain locked away. He had destroyed half her life as it was.

  He opened his eyes under her gaze. “Hello.” He smiled. “Hello,” she said, looking away.

  “We’ve arrived.” Cash stretched languidly, looking out of the small window.

  “Yes,” she said. “How did you get on with those?” she said, indicating to the folders
strewn across the table in front of him.

  “Nothing. No clues whatsoever.”

  “You?” he asked, motioning to the laptop.

  Sophie looked around to see where the steward was. He had disappeared into the cockpit. Her face broke into a huge— and Cash remembered, naughty— smile. A smile that said she knew something she shouldn’t or you didn’t.

  “Unbelievable!” she said the smile remaining fixed.

  “You found out why they killed our fathers?” asked Cash.

  “No, much bigger.”

  “You’ve proved our innocence?”

  “What’s going on?” whispered Rigs, joining the group. Sophie’s smile dropped when she realized her breakthrough with him had been short lived. Rigs was avoiding her gaze again and speaking only to Cash.

  “Sophie’s found something.”

  “Clues to why your father was killed?” asked Rigs of Cash, keeping his voice as low as possible.

  Sophie shook her head wildly. “No. Well, yes and no, everything, the answer to everything is in here.”

  “Everything?” asked Cash confused. “So it will prove our innocence?”

  “Maybe. Well probably not, but we may be on the cusp of understanding everything, at least about us.”

  “All you need to know about us is that we’re in deep shit,” said Cash. “Let’s take one problem at a time. Let’s clear our names and avenge our fathers before we solve the answer to everything, whatever that means.”

  ‘Not ‘us’ us, I mean us humans! Everything means everything about humans, the Earth, the universe, everything!” she said, her excitement levels increasing.

  “Can you explain to me how finding the answers to the universe will help us?” asked Cash.

  “Because, your father believes there are people already here who know far more than they’re letting on, protecting a knowledge from the past that we’ve lost.”

  “Who?”

  “He didn’t know.”

  “The government?”