Genetic Bullets: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 3)

by JC Ryan

  ~~~

  Aside from the cost to human lives, which of course was the most disturbing, this crisis had disrupted world trade as international transportation ceased due to quarantines. If the stock markets hadn’t been closed, they would have fallen in a crash that would have put 1929 to shame. There was no doubt that a global economic Depression was beginning and would likely last for decades. Harper’s advisers couldn’t even begin to estimate the toll.

  Again because of transportation limitations, localized areas of hyperinflation were starting as commodities became less available. Even in the prosperous US, hunger could become the norm as food supplies, long supplemented by foreign agriculture, became depleted. As January drew to a close, only the Deep South could count on growing their own food rapidly, but of course even that would be impossible in the largest cities. For the north, spring planting season was weeks away, and even further to harvest.

  Harper reflected bitterly that it was moot anyway. As nearly as anyone could tell him, the world population was about eight weeks from total annihilation at this rate and if the virus mutated in such a way that it began affecting everyone. The news that the Rossler Foundation virologist was ill had struck fear into him that it had, in fact, mutated. Perhaps everyone would die, and then any future problems wouldn’t matter.

  Harper’s worst fears didn’t take into account the unrest in the Middle East as he pondered the impact of the virus. It wasn’t that he was stupid, nor was he uninformed. He was just focused on the wrong hazard. There was something that could annihilate the world population even more rapidly and certainly than the virus, and that was nuclear war.

  Middle Eastern diplomats were angry, but they still followed diplomatic norms, using words to convey their anger rather than weapons. Middle Eastern radical religious leaders had no such limits. Iran’s Ayatollah, the acknowledged leader of the people as well as the power behind political decisions, had been spewing hate-filled rhetoric with references to world cleansing by the Twelfth Imam for a month. As a result, the faithful were flocking to their local mosques to volunteer in the coming jihad.

  The first target would be Israel, but Ayatollah Kazemi was in contact with numerous terrorist organizations to determine a way to wreak the most havoc in the West. Al-Qaeda, Jundallah, Komalah and the People’s Mujahedin of Iran had to be wooed and drawn together in support of Kazemi when he declared himself the Twelfth Imam. With that accomplished, he could command radical Muslims globally. In his quest to unite the terrorist organizations, Kazemi was aided by a man whose background was not completely known to him.

  The man, whose name was Ahmad Ahmadi, was a Harvard-educated strategist. His cunning, ruthlessness and excellent command of English made him invaluable to al-Qaeda’s leader, who had loaned him to Kazemi when the coalition was being formed. Third in command of the Right Hand of the Twelfth Imam, Ahmad Ahmadi had invaluable insights into the minds of the infidels, especially of those in the United States. The part that Kazemi didn’t know was that Ahmad Ahmadi was also a CIA agent..

  Kazemi’s task was made more complicated by the fact that the organizations he was trying to unite frequently fought among themselves and occasionally even a single organization could be rendered ineffective by dissension within itself. Had that not been the case, the first wave of organized attacks in the West might have occurred even earlier. As it was, a coordinated attack in five European capitals didn’t occur until the morning of January 30.

  On that day, suicide bombers in London, Paris, Berlin, Rome and Madrid succeeded in killing or maiming a total of seven hundred people, many of them government officials arriving for the morning’s business in the mainland countries. The London strike, coordinated with the others, wasn’t as effective, since it occurred earlier in the morning than the others. Nevertheless, the damage to the Underground station that was hit not only injured seventy-eight people, but also crippled transportation networks.

  As morning dawned in the US, reports of the strikes reached the ears of President Harper in his morning briefing.

  “Who’s taking credit?” he asked.

  “Something called the Right Hand of the Twelfth Imam. We’ve never heard of them,” his Chief of Staff replied.

  “Wait, I know something about this Twelfth Imam, don’t I?”

  “Yes, sir. You were briefed on Islamic culture when you took office. The Twelfth Imam is supposed to be the Islamic messiah, I guess you could say. There are a lot of prophecies and signs and portents, but it seems that the Ayatollah Kazemi in Iran has seized the opportunity to declare that he is the very one. You have an appointment with the foreign policy group in an hour. Right now they’re trying to track down who this really is. The attacks were too coordinated and professional to be a new group.”

  “I’ll never understand why people would be willing to voluntarily blow themselves up to make a point,” Harper muttered.

  “You know they’ve been promised all sorts of privileges in the afterlife, in which they believe literally,” his assistant answered, revealing unwittingly that he perhaps didn’t have a literal belief in it. “We have intelligence that perhaps as many as ten thousand suicide bombers have already volunteered since the radicals started spouting jihad. This Ayatollah Kazemi, especially, has been talking about how it’s every Muslim’s duty to join in the war.”

  “Ten thou…that’s insane!” exploded Harper. “If that’s true, no major city in the world is safe. That can’t be true!”

  “I’ll get that confirmed, sir, if you’d like.”

  “All right, do that. We have to devise a response. Are any of my counterparts in the affected countries available? I’d like to send our condolences and support.”

  “Yes, sir. I have the Downing Street Chief of Staff’s assistant standing by for your call. If you’ll pick up the phone on my signal, the Prime Minister will speak with you.”

  “Good job.” Harper despised the protocol that kept him from simply picking up the phone and dialing himself. Apparently he was too important to be kept waiting, and so were the heads of state with whom he wished to speak. A call like this typically took six people or more to execute. What a waste of manpower to save him a few seconds and make sure no one’s nose got out of joint by having to wait for someone else.

  Harper picked up the handset on the designated phone and uttered a strong ‘hello’. A refined voice on the other end spoke.

  “Good morning Mr. President. Thank you for your call.”

  “Harold, good morning. Though from what I hear your morning wasn’t good. How many injured and killed?”

  “No one killed, thank God. We have seventy-eight injured, some critically, but at present we believe that all will recover. What do your people make of this, Nigel? I understand that these bastards hit four other capitals at the same time. You haven’t had any incidents there?”

  “No, none has been reported. I expect to know more in about an hour, and I’ll have someone get back to your people with our analysis as soon as we have one. I just wanted to express my condolences.”

  “Thank you. I must say, Nigel, I believe it has something to do with this damnable virus your scientists have loosed on us. Don’t they have a cure?”

  “Harold, I assure you, our scientists had nothing to do with it. Whatever happened was inadvertent and no, they don’t have a cure. It’s something that has lain dormant for perhaps thousands of years, and I don’t pretend to understand it. We’re working on it, is all I can say.”

  “Well, work faster, my friend. This on top of everything else, the quarantines, the economy…this is the last straw. There are some in my government who are asking why we’re not finishing the job with nuclear weapons.”

  “Harold, not you too! I’m barely restraining the UN from demanding that. It’s no solution, I swear to you.”

  “Very well. I must go, I’m needed elsewhere. Good to hear from you.”

  “God be with you and your country, Harold.”

  Harper failed to underst
and at that time what his counterpart was up against. Like many in the US, he had dismissed rabble-rousing warnings of the impact of radical Islam in the US, where religious freedom was a way of life. Busy with other crises for much of his tenure, he hadn’t paid much attention to those briefings that warned of the creeping danger of Sharia compliance among the citizens of the US. It was even worse in the UK, where Sharia law had been formally recognized in 2008 and incorporated into the court system.

  It created an environment where Sharia courts were free to issue rulings that contradicted the UK’s common law, as well as European Union laws. By 2011, Muslims in the UK had begun demanding that in towns with large Muslim populations, including Birmingham, Leeds, Leicester, Liverpool and Manchester among others, Sharia law replace UK common law and become the only law in those neighborhoods.

  The devastation of the H10N7 virus in those neighborhoods had led to suicide bombings against any remaining non-Muslim companies and threats against women who weren’t compliant with Sharia law in wearing the Muslim veil. In fact, in some of these neighborhoods, conditions were as bad as in the Middle East; worse because of the proximity of targets for the revenge of radical vigilante groups. Harper was soon to learn the truth of it.

  Before he had a chance to contact any of the other countries, his advisers arrived for the hastily-called meeting.

  “What can you tell me about this Right Hand of the Twelfth Imam?” he said, rather unnecessarily, to open the meeting.

  “Mr. President, as nearly as we can understand it, the Ayatollah Kazemi has managed to bring several rival terrorist groups together for one purpose. We’ve been bandying about the phrase Islamic jihad for decades. It’s now upon us.”

  “How are they traveling? There’s a global interdiction on travel.”

  “We’re certain that the strikes in the European capitals have been carried out by long-embedded operatives who were activated by phone or email. However, no country on earth has the police power to stop all travel. Even in our own country, people are still traveling across country. It would take martial law to stop it.”

  “How many cases of the flu do we have here in the US, now?”

  “Just over fifteen thousand,” replied the Chief of Staff.

  “Relatively few, then,” Harper responded, though horrified at the thought that fifteen thousand dead or dying could be referred to as ‘few’. Still, in comparison with the Middle East, that was the correct assessment.

  “Yes, sir. We had fewer index cases here, seven I believe, and we got them quarantined pretty quickly. However, there are still cases coming in. It seems that the guards in the camps and healthcare workers are infecting others as they go about their business. The more people we send in to care for the sick and infected, the more silent carriers we have. It’s going to get out of hand soon, and we don’t have a solution for it.”

  “Put everyone in hazmat suits if you must, but see to it that the spread stops. Consider that an executive order.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, what are we going to do about these terrorists?”

  “We’re gathering all information we can with help from the CIA, who has moles in the organizations, but there are some pretty sophisticated countermeasures in place,” said one of the advisers. “I think the Director told me they’d had three or four moles go silent in the last week. I’m afraid they’ve been compromised and possibly killed.”

  “Get the Director of the CIA over here ASAP,” Harper directed the Chief of Staff. To the advisers, he said, “What should I be doing to help this situation? Would a press conference be of any use?”

  “I guess you could go on TV and tell people to be on the lookout for suspicious activity,” one said, with a dubious expression on his face.

  “Wouldn’t that just result in a bunch of people turning in their neighbors for no good reason?” Harper asked.

  “Probably,” was the dry reply.

  “All right. Thanks for the update. I’ll expect a brief every four hours until further notice. You’re dismissed.”

  Director Lewis of the CIA arrived in short order, knowing that he was about to be grilled as to why the attacks hadn’t been averted. The problem was that he had no assets in the office of the Ayatollah Kazemi, since he hadn’t previously been associated with terrorists, but rather had taken a hard line against the US in his influence within the Iranian government. That didn’t fall under the definition of terrorism, so they’d had no reason to infiltrate his office, or so they thought.

  Lewis’s analysts were just beginning to get traffic indicating an unlikely coalition of terrorist organizations being brought under one command center. Evidently, Kazemi had assets of his own that were used to activate cells in the affected cities for today’s attack. It was as if they had all been given their orders by mental telepathy. There had been no voice traffic at all before the morning attacks. As soon as he was ushered into the Oval Office, President Harper indicated he should sit and then waited for Lewis to speak.

  “Mr. President, I assume you want to know why we weren’t on top of this.” Seeing the President’s raised eyebrows, he ploughed on, explaining it as he had put it together in his mind on the way.

  “I have analysts brainstorming every possible manner of communication to make sure we miss nothing else, sir, but I cannot guarantee we will have the answer in time to avert more attacks in the next forty-eight hours.”

  Harper paled. “What about that clever thing that the Rosslers did with email accounts and draft messages?”

  “That’s the trouble, sir. We know it can be done, but there is no way to intercept the messages, because they aren’t sent over the internet. There could be thousands of messages sitting in email draft folders that reveal all the bad guys’ plans, but we have no way to find them. That’s why it was so effective for the Rosslers.”

  “Are we completely vulnerable then?”

  “No, sir, not completely. We do have eyes on known or suspected terrorists, but of course they’re like cockroaches. For every one you see, there are hundreds more hidden. All we can do is watch the movements of the ones we can see, and try to intercept or disrupt any missions they might be involved in. We’re also handicapped because our assets in the area had to have a Middle Eastern ethnic background, for their camouflage. Many are missing and presumed to have succumbed to the virus. It’s also possible,” he admitted with reluctance, “that the rhetoric has persuaded them to change sides.”

  “Good lord, Sam, how has it come to this?”

  “Mr. President, that’s a question for wiser men than I. I’m very sorry we’ve failed, and if you require my resignation, you’ll have it immediately.”

  “Don’t be silly, Sam. I can’t fire you for not doing what no man can do. Just do what you can to keep this country from going up like a house afire, and keep me posted. I’ll let you get back to business.”

  “Thank you, sir. We’ll do our best.”

  Harper had full confidence in Lewis’s command of his agency. But what he’d just learned gave him cause for deep concern. If the terrorists were using an undetectable method of communication, no one was safe.

  His thoughts turned out to be prophetic when, at six-thirty-five that evening, an armored security vehicle drove straight into defensive fire from Secret Service Uniformed Division officers, running over two of them and killing them before crashing into the barriers and blowing up. Over fifty bystanders were killed or injured, but it was nothing compared to the similar but much more devastating scenario that took place in Tel Aviv eight hours later. Later, the question of how the truck carrying the explosives made it all the way to the US Embassy front door steps would not be easily answered, because all witnesses, along with more than half of the embassy personnel, were dead. The building was left in rubble, a complete loss, as were commercial buildings on either side.

  For the second morning in a row, President Harper woke to devastating news, this time news that hit home. His ambassador to Israel wa
s dead, the mission crippled because of massive losses of life as well as the total loss of the building. He would have to recall the survivors, but first he wanted to speak to Yedidyah, lest his action be misinterpreted.

  “David, I’m just devastated by the news of what occurred this morning in Tel Aviv.”

  “Nigel, I, too am devastated. Forgive me for not calling earlier.”

  “I understand. David, I’m going to have to recall the survivors and try to determine what to do about an embassy. I want you to know that we in no way blame Israel. It’s merely to take care of our people and get organized. I trust we will be welcome when we’ve named a new ambassador?”

  “Let’s take that under advisement, Nigel. I’m not sure we can guarantee the safety of your citizens, nor can you assure me that more terrorist strikes against your country within the borders of mine will not occur if you return. Can we say that once the medical crisis we face is resolved, you will then be welcome?”

  “David, our country has a long history of supporting Israel. Are you now saying that it will be better not to engage in diplomatic relations with each other? Because, if you are, I’m not sure Congress or the taxpayers will be happy about ongoing support.”

  “My friend, I would not put it so strongly. But we must face facts. Neither of us is in a position to create diplomatic policy right now. When I was in your country for a semester of foreign study, I learned a quaint saying from your southern states. When you’re up to your ass in alligators is not the time to try to drain the swamp. Before we drain the swamp, we’re going to have to fight these alligators, do you see?”

  “I see what you’re saying, but I don’t like it, quite frankly David. My decision stands. Our people need to come home. I guess you and I will be talking another time about when we’ll be welcomed back. I hope you haven’t made it impossible for us to stand behind you.”