The God Complex: A Thriller

by Murray Mcdonald

  “Joel!” said Cash, his head snapping around to check that Kyle was okay.

  Chapter 68

  Cash called Travis to bring him up to speed as they raced back to London.

  “Remember the guy from the pyramids?” he asked.

  “The one who called and said you were no longer a target?”

  “Yeah, well he tracked me down.”

  “I thought you crippled him?”

  “Snapped his arm just above, no, just below the elbow,” he said to Joel’s motions. “Anyway, the Iranians have got another base in Chalus. He wanted to check which one they took us to, before he sent in a team.”

  “So they’re Mossad?”

  “No, but they work for them, amongst many others, that’s all he’ll tell me.”

  “Go with them,” instructed Travis.

  “His team are ready to go, they’re already in the area.”

  “I don’t give a shit, they’re not doing this without you there! Israel can’t keep that bomb! Tell him you’re going in with their team, whether they like it or not. If not, I’ll phone the Iranians myself and tell them they’re coming.”

  Cash relayed the message and with no option but to accept, Joel agreed.

  “You’re not far from Lakenheath,” Travis went on. “It’s one of our biggest bases in the area. We’ll get you a fast ride to wherever Joel’s team is. You’ll be able to grab whatever kit you need from there as well.”

  Forty minutes later, three supersonic F22s were streaking across Europe, topping up their tanks and ignoring every sound restriction in the book. The three pilots had passengers rather than navigators in their back seats.

  “We can’t land in Damascus. Are you mad?!” said Cash’s pilot when Joel learned the location of the team.

  “This thing is stealthy, no?”

  “Yes, but we just got them and you want me to land it at Damascus Airport?”

  “Hold on,” Cash spoke to Rigs and then Joel. It was risky but they agreed it was worth a try.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…” said Cash. He explained the details of the plan to the pilot.

  “I can’t do what you’re asking me to do without approval.”

  “Whose approval?”

  “My commander’s.”

  “How about your commander-in-chief?”

  “If President Mitchell asked me to do it, I’d land this baby in the Kremlin if he wanted.”

  Three minutes later, the President asked the pilot to do as Cash had asked.

  As they neared the Lebanese coast, the F22s topped up for the last time and when they neared the Syrian border, they powered right back.

  “Joel,” said Cash, “give your guys a call.”

  Three minutes later, Joel gave the thumbs up.

  “Sweet mother…!” shouted the pilot, throwing his throttles forward. At full speed the F22 could cover twenty-five miles in a minute. Damascus sat only ten miles from the Lebanese border. It was all about speed and stealth. By the time the F22s were fast approaching Damascus International Airport, Joel’s team was in the plane waiting to take off at the end of the runway. When the three jets touched down in formation the visual sighting was the first the Syrians even knew they were there. When they turned next to the waiting jet, their canopies lifted, just enough for Cash, Rigs and Joel to drop unceremoniously to the ground. It was a crushing fall but one they were all trained to suck up. Out of sight of the control tower, they were pulled aboard Joel’s team’s jet and the three F22s were already shooting back into the sky. The air traffic controller was still holding on the line for the Syrian military to answer.

  “Hi,” said Cash, greeting the rest of Joel’s Sicarii team as the Russian Ilyushin IL-76 cargo plane started its trip down the runway in the wake of the F-22s.

  Rigs looked around before he took a seat on the bench that ran down either length of the cargo hold. Fortunately and not unsurprisingly, the man with the slashed Achilles tendons wasn’t there.

  “So what’s the plan?” asked Cash.

  “I wasn’t supposed to be here,” Joel said. “I believe the plan is to pose as Syrian businessmen on a trip to the Caspian Sea Resort of Chalus. The Syrians and Iranians have very good relations, as you know.”

  “We don’t think we’ll have a problem at the airport on the way in. Where we’ll hit trouble is near the mountains when we take the weapons and the prison to rescue…” Daniel, who Cash guessed was leading the assault, stopped short of finishing his sentence.

  “Rescue who?” asked Cash. “This is about the bombs, nobody mentioned anything about a rescue.”

  “Nobody invited you!” said Daniel.

  Rigs leaned into Cash “That’s a good point,” he whispered.

  “What did he say?” asked Daniel, not comfortable with the whispering.

  “He was agreeing with you,” said Cash.

  “He does that,” Joel pointed out, having witnessed it throughout the morning.

  “And he doesn’t mean agree with you, he means whisper,” said Cash.

  As expected, their arrival was unremarkable. A Syrian group arriving for a trip to Chalus was not out of the ordinary. Joel opted to stay in the aircraft. His arm was a major restriction on his movement and ability.

  There were twelve Sicarii, two six-men teams, one was to secure the weapons and the other to rescue a four-man Sayaret Matkal team who had been arrested during the first attack by the Israelis on Chalus. The six-man team to secure the nuclear weapons became eight. Those were Cash and Rigs’ only orders.

  “So where are they?” asked Cash.

  “There’s an entrance to a storage area inside a tunnel that runs along the mountainside. We believe they moved the weapons there, prior to our attack, for safekeeping. It’s deep inside the mountain and impervious to air attack.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “The team in the prison got a message out through another prisoner when they realized what they had seen in the tunnel.”

  The truck they hired was not the most comfortable but was the biggest they could get. They just hoped it was going to be big enough.

  Daniel listened in to the other team’s progress and ordered the driver to slow down. “We want them to hit the prison just before we hit here. They’re going to go in as noisily as possible to draw as much attention as they can across Chalus and create our diversion. We go in here quietly, leaving no one to talk or raise the alarm. While the other team and the Sayaret Matkal make a break across the Caspian Sea, we’ll fly out unnoticed.”

  “Sounds easy, wake me up when you’re done,” joked Cash.

  Nobody laughed.

  They approached the tunnel and drove through it. Although approaching from the other end, they took the sharp bend as described by the previous team but strained to see in the dark. They couldn’t see the entrance they believed was there. Nothing was visible.

  Daniel listened to his headset. The other team had just reached the prison and were getting into position.

  “Okay, they’ve gone. We can turn back and go through,” said Daniel to his driver.

  Cash cocked his H&K MP5SD silenced sub machine gun, checked his holster for his pistol, and got ready to go.

  The truck drove back down the tunnel and its lights shone the right way this time. Against the wall on the sharp bend emerged a faint outline of a large door.

  “How we getting in?” asked Cash.

  The driver accelerated towards the outline.

  “I thought you said as silent as possible!” said Cash, bracing himself for impact. “What if it’s reinfor—”

  They hit the door head on. The truck shuddered on impact and fought against the steel door which soon gave way. The truck continued on, sweeping around to the left, a klaxon blaring.

  “This is an old works tunnel, it would have run all the way to the complex you toured but was closed off after it was finished,” the driver explained. “They guessed our attack was coming and moved the warheads here as a
stop-gap. Well, that was our guess.” The first bullets began to tear into the truck. The driver slammed on the brakes and the Sicarii jumped out and went to work. Working as two-man teams, one fired while the other constantly moved forward, pressuring the enemy into making basic errors. Their precision and fearlessness was an impressive sight, and they made short work of the Iranian forces, despite them being their elite Takavar troops. Cash and Rigs stayed back out of their way. They knew what they were doing.

  “Clinical,” said Rigs, impressed, something he rarely was.

  The tunnels spread out into a large cavern where a hastily built structure had been erected. The Sicarii didn’t catch their breath, moving in and sweeping through the structure.

  “Clear!” was shouted out repeatedly as they cleared room after room.

  They heard the occasional soft spit of an MP5, usually followed by a thud as another Iranian fell.

  After three minutes, Daniel declared the site clear. “The other team has secured the prisoners,” he announced. “The nukes are in the back. Four warheads, one more than it was thought they could have had.”

  “Will they fit in the truck?”

  “Just,” said Daniel.

  “What are we waiting for?” asked Cash.

  Within ten minutes of bursting through the entrance, they were driving back out.

  “Impressive work, guys,” said Cash.

  “From you guys, I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Daniel.

  Rigs leaned over and said quietly so only Cash could head, “They’re never going to let us take these off of them.”

  Cash nodded. Not a chance in Hell.

  Chapter 69

  Institute of Astronomy

  University of Cambridge

  Sophie had been at the university since before sunrise. Her mind was racing, although Cash had certainly managed to keep it occupied for most of the night. When sleep came, her mind wandered. At five a.m., she gave in and headed to the university where she could begin to analyze the images properly. She soon realized the images weren’t good enough. She recalibrated her calculations for a time slot she had secured at the Keck Observatory for later in the morning.

  Although the numbers didn’t look significantly different, the result, when it came through, was astonishing. The planetary system was far closer than it had been just twelve hours earlier. It was like the two galaxies were pulling one another ever closer. While she waited for the high resolution images to download, she quickly reworked the calculations. Perhaps the two were going to collide. Perhaps this was the end of the world.

  The results proved otherwise. Knowing the difference between the two calculations from the previous twelve hours and the decrease in distance that it had made to the planetary system, she could roughly calculate the minimum distance that would be experienced. Of course, that was if the calculations remained correct as per the ancient workings. The distance would narrow slightly until being at its narrowest in forty years. After that, it would very slowly increase again until a great increase in eighty years. The change was dramatic but the universe was a complex and amazing place. Gravitational forces were pushing and pulling it constantly in all directions. It could be that the two galaxies were caught by each other’s pull, or a combination of pulls before their orbits pulled them off in another direction. Sophie stopped herself. That was a problem for another day. She checked the system, the enormous files had downloaded.

  She opened the first, comparing it to the one the previous day. She checked the next but she didn’t need to. She knew exactly what was happening; it was as clear as day. You just had to know exactly where to look. And that was the problem, no one knew where to look. Otherwise, they would have known.

  She grabbed her phone and hit the speed dial for Cash, button 2. Her mom had been bumped to 3.

  “Cash,” she said breathlessly, “I’ve got it, call me the instant you get this message.”

  She had to tell someone, but who? She had no idea who to contact, who to tell, what to tell them, or what it even meant. Travis! Travis Davies would know what to do. She knew he was staying at the Savoy. Cash had mentioned he was to pick him up from there. She grabbed her laptop and searched for the number. She tried to call but her phone was dead, no signal. Curious. She always got a great signal in the building.

  ***

  Conrad received the images that Sophie had taken that morning. The ones from the previous night hadn’t worried him. There was nothing she could see that could tell her anything. The new ones were a different matter entirely. He called her watchers, two Sicarii that had been retained for just such an eventuality.

  Antoine had insisted they kept an eye on her and a very close one. Sophie Kramer was a problem. She was the one who had the ability to understand before anyone else what was happening. Cash and Rigs were easy. He knew exactly where they were. Atlas Noble had been instrumental in uncovering the whereabouts of Iran’s secret and hidden nukes.

  He had two more calls to make, one to Antoine and one to Anya. She had insisted he made her aware of anything pertaining to the issue, anything.

  Chapter 70

  With six Sicarii and four Sayaret Matkal soldiers causing mayhem in Chalus, all Iranian forces in the area were ordered to proceed there as a matter of urgency. The fact that they were using the same type of truck as the military helped enormously as the sketchy reports of a raid on their secret bunker began to filter in. This allowed the six Sicarii, Cash and Rigs to drive quietly and peaceably to the airport while a small war raged a few miles away on the other side of the city.

  They loaded up the Ilyushin and since the Iranians were safe in the knowledge they had their targets surrounded, they took off barely twenty minutes before an Iranian commander had the sense to close it down.

  Cash and Rigs looked back on the city below. “We’re not waiting for the others?” asked Cash, stunned that they had taken off. They lived by a creed. They never left a man behind, never.

  “They have an escape plan, if they can, they will—”

  “You’re leaving them to die?”

  “They knew the mission and accepted it proudly, today we saved our nation.”

  “I thought you weren’t Mossad?”

  “We’re not, but we will die to protect the Jewish state.”

  Cash thought back to the cabinets in Baalbeck, the suicide bombers’ mementoes. Religion had a huge amount to answer for. Good men, killing themselves in the name of God. If there were one god, why would he let two different groups kill themselves in his name? It didn’t make any sense, at least not to him. He closed his eyes as Joel’s cell phone rang, thankfully ending the possibility of a debate.

  “Cash,” whispered Rigs, nudging him. “Cash,” he said, his voice louder than normal.

  Cash opened his eyes to find Joel standing over him with his gun covering him while the other Sicarii relieved him and Rigs of their weapons.

  “I take it that call didn’t go well for us?” he asked Rigs and received a nod.

  “I’m afraid we’ve been reengaged to deal with you,” said Joel.

  ***

  Conrad called Anya first. She had asked him to. Antoine, on the other hand, had just been asked to be updated should anything happen, knowing Conrad was more than capable of handling the situation.

  “Anya, she did it. Sophie Kramer found it. I’ve sent the Sicarii in to get her. Cash and Rigs are with the Sicarii already,” he said.

  Anya listened, her heart rate racing, She killed the call, dialing another number as quickly as she could.

  “Antoine,” said Anya, relieved that he answered on the first ring. She thanked the stars above.

  “Anya, what’s wrong?”

  “You can’t kill him, you can’t!”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, hold on,” he said moving the phone away from his ear. “Alex has Conrad on his phone, he says it’s urgent and could impact the operation!”

  “No!!!” she screamed too late. He had alread
y muted it.

  Antoine came back on the line quickly.

  “They found it!” he said. “They’ve put everything at risk!”

  “You can’t kill them!”

  “They threaten everything we’ve spent our lives on, our ancestors’ lives—”

  “No you can’t kill them, you can’t!” she pleaded and commanded as one.

  “Of course I can.”

  “They’re Nobles, you can’t order them killed.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Anya.”

  “Cash Harris is my son, Antoine! Kyle Kramer is my grandson!”

  “I’ll call you back!” he said.

  Antoine called back two minutes later. “I can’t get a hold of Conrad, I’ll keep trying.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Please! Keep trying!”

  “Alex is trying as we speak,” said Antoine. “When he gets through he…would you care to explain?”

  “What’s to explain? I met a man and fell in love. Before I knew what had happened I was already three months pregnant.”

  “You didn’t know?” he asked incredulous.

  “Sometimes you don’t, and I was taking precautions. This is not really a conversation I want to have with my brother.”

  “Of course not, but you had the child and what happened?”

  “I said goodbye. I had no choice. We don’t mix. We never mix our genes. That was what we lived by until…”

  “Lee. Alex’s fiancée will give birth it would seem not to the first, but the second mixed baby. And if that hadn’t happened, if Blake hadn’t told us it was okay…”

  “We’d still be having this conversation. He may only be half Noble but there’s still a hundred percent of me in there! I have regretted leaving him every day of my life.”

  “Hold on…Alex is through.” The call cut off.

  Anya waited, her heart pounding in her chest. She checked her watch. She needed to board her plane. She didn’t want to lose the signal, but she daren’t move until Antoine called back.