‘I think we need to stop avoiding the elephant in the room,’ John said, the phrase eliciting a confused look from some of the foreign delegates. ‘The GMRC controls your countries, as it used to control mine. So much so, they’ve brought the world to the brink of war in their refusal to relinquish control, even though the asteroid threat is long past. The dust cloud has lifted, the Earth’s ecosystems are in full recovery, and yet all of our citizens suffer draconian rationing and sanctions which are only getting worse.
‘In attempting to provide the basic necessities for my fellow citizens,’ John continued, ‘I find myself trying to avert a full-blown conflict, while those that pull the strings behind the scenes are strangely silent. And I don’t talk of the missing council members, as they have been swiftly replaced. What we need to be discussing is not how to avert a war, but how to extract the GMRC from meddling in our affairs. I know you’ve both experienced the same problems as we have. You can’t tell me you’re happy to keep the status quo? Surely you must have asked yourself the same questions as I have. Where has the water gone? Why are food stocks vanishing? And now people are going missing, as well. Clearly, the GMRC craves power so badly it’s willing to steal vital resources and fund Nazi-style abductions.’
The EU president frowned and John could have kicked himself. Note to self, don’t reference Nazis when negotiating with a German, you idiot!
The Chinese premier entered into a whispered discussion with one of his team, while the EU president said, ‘Let’s not jump to conclusions. I’ve spoken to the GMRC at length about the issues you’ve raised. Now we have addressed concerns about your international commitments in the previous session, I’m at liberty to tell you, I and Premier Liang have brokered a deal that will suit all parties concerned.’
‘The GMRC is willing to talk?’ John said, incredulous. ‘They’re willing to back down?’
‘I’ve been told a formal hearing will be arranged where you can air your grievances. They will then lift some of the sanctions and replenish any stocks that have run dry during the crisis.’ The EU president looked over her glasses at him. ‘You must understand, Mr President, the GMRC is here to protect us. They wouldn’t purposefully endanger your citizens, nor mine.’
John looked at his advisors, who looked every bit as sceptical as he must have done. ‘And why has it taken the threat of war to arrive at such recourse?’
‘The Response Council is beyond large, and as you know, the larger the organisation, the longer it takes for anything to get done. Your concerns have long been discussed—’
‘So they tell you,’ John said.
‘And I’m convinced,’ the EU president said, ‘convinced that it is doing everything to rectify its shortcomings. Again, you must recognise GMRC has been struggling to cope with the greatest threat humanity has ever seen. The dust cloud may have dissipated, but the Council is fighting tooth and nail to save some of the world’s ecosystems, which have not recovered as they would have liked. Plus, they are trying to re-house the entire southern African continent plus large territories surrounding the Indian Ocean. A global mandate means their resources are spread thin, which hasn’t been helped by your resistance. Please consider that they’re human, and therefore fallible, like everyone else.’
John wasn’t convinced, despite the EU president’s sincerity. She might have believed it, but John wouldn’t until he saw results, real results, on the ground. ‘And when will this miraculous eleventh-hour meeting take place?’
The president gestured to one of her officials, who stood up and handed a leather binder to one of John’s administrators. The man then walked round and presented it to John.
‘Inside, you’ll find details of a staged withdrawal of GMRC protocols, laid out from first to last,’ said the EU president. ‘Including full devolution of power to sovereign states and suspension and subsequent liquidation of the Response Council itself.’
John opened the folder and looked at the digital screen within. He swiped aside the official seal of the GMRC and scrolled through the document, his eyes growing wider the more he read.
‘And this is verifiable?’ he said, in a state of shock.
The EU leader nodded, while the Chinese premier gestured to his team, who produced a number of binders and distributed them to each member of the U.S. administration.
John’s advisors quickly confirmed it. He had before him signed declarations from almost every member state. The GMRC was to be disbanded and its assets and personnel redistributed over a two-year period, starting that very day. While John had been preparing to fight, the rest of the world had finally seen sense.
It was a miracle, in every sense of the word.
The GMRC had capitulated, and he hadn’t had to do anything. He could hardly believe it. Not anything? John asked himself. You almost had to go to war over this. You defied democracy and turned yourself into a dictator. No, you’ve paid a high price – almost the ultimate price. He thought back to the attempts on his life, the abduction, the stress, the worry, his failing marriage, the sleepless nights, and realised how far he’d gone in service to his people. But as he accepted the proposal and his advisors congratulated each other, he couldn’t help but wonder, as he shook hands with the EU president and the Chinese premier, whether everything was as it seemed.
Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Four
‘Well done, Mr President,’ said the Secretary of Defense. ‘You’ll go down in history for this. A magnificent win – magnificent!’
John couldn’t help but smile; everything had come good at last. Finally! He’d achieved what he’d set out to do and it almost didn’t seem real. He wandered away from those around him just to take it all in, but as he stood there, basking in his own glory, the nagging feeling at the back of his mind told him something was not right. It was all too easy – too perfect. He still grasped the folder he’d been presented with by the EU president, and he had to look through it again, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
He used his finger to swipe to the next page and then the next. But on the third swipe, rather than seeing another page of GMRC proposals, a single message appeared in the centre of the screen:
They’re still lying to you, Mr President. Look out of the window and see for yourself. Have you seen the light in the sky? It’s getting bigger, Mr President. And it’s almost here _
John looked round to see if anyone was seeing what he was, but everyone was still too engrossed in their success to notice. Even the nearest Secret Service agent was too busy looking at his watch and John took the opportunity to distance himself a little further from those around him.
‘Bic, I presume,’ John said into the device.
A new message appeared:
That’s right, John Henry. I am here, as I told you I would be. Have you forgotten your abduction? Have you forgotten what we told you? The signs are clear _
‘Your signs are lies,’ John said. ‘You knew certain situations would unfold and then played on my fears. There’s no asteroid, there never was.’ John suddenly had a disturbing thought. ‘Those aren’t GMRC agents in the building, are they? It’s the terrorists, the professor and his band of miscreants. What are you trying to do, sabotage the peace process? I take it you know. The GMRC is done. I’ve won. The Council is to disband. Whatever anarchy you hoped to achieve has failed. You’re too late.’
Too late, Mr President? You’re right, it almost is. Shall I tell you a secret? _
‘What secret?’ John looked around, as he thought about alerting his security to Bic’s presence. If I can catch the cyberterrorist as well, he thought, it’ll be the icing on the cake.
Another message appeared:
Did you know the astronomer at the observatory was in the employ of the GMRC, Mr President? _
An image of the telescope operator, who’d called himself Matt, appeared on the display. He was lying in a pool of his own blood with a gunshot wound to the chest. John’s stared at the screen, his heart rate increasing.
/>
Do you know why he lied to you, Mr President? I’ll tell you, it’s because he thought the light in the sky was a military satellite, and all he had to do was convince one man it wasn’t what he thought it was, even if that man was the President of the United States, and even if that man thought it was another asteroid. All he had to do was stick to the script given him by the GMRC and he’d get paid _
‘He didn’t lie to me,’ John said, grasping the device harder. ‘Kitt Peak confirmed it.’
You mean someone pretending to be from Kitt Peak, don’t you, Mr President? _
John looked up at his staff, who continued to bask in their success, and a sense of dread settled into the pit of his stomach. He moved to the window, but the view of the sky was limited.
Do you know who shot him, Mr President? _
The image of the dead astronomer reappeared on John’s tablet. It wasn’t a photo but a video, which now reversed at high speed, before stopping and playing back in normal time.
John watched in horror as a Secret Service agent gunned down the unarmed astronomer.
‘It’s fake,’ John said. ‘Dante’s men are as loyal as they come.’
Yes, Mr President, but loyal to whom? _
Another image appeared: an image of an empty bedroom. He frowned. It was an image of his bedroom back in the White House. At first he thought it was a photograph, but he realised it was, as before, another video, as someone walked past the camera.
You might want to put the headphones in, Mr President _
Unsure why, John found himself disconnecting the wireless headphones from the device and inserting them into his ears.
A moment later the same person walked back past the camera, it was Ashley and she was talking to someone off camera. John expected to see himself appear, but as he watched, Special Agent Dante walked into shot. What’s he doing in my bedroom? John thought. A moment later his question was answered as Ashley draped her arms around the Head of Security’s neck and kissed him.
The kiss turned passionate and Dante unzipped Ashley’s dress and threw her onto the bed. He then undressed himself and climbed on top her.
John stared as his good friend thrust down on the woman John loved, his mind unable to process the imagery that cut him to the bone.
The scene changed. Ashley was now straddling Dante and leaning back in the throes of ecstasy. Her frenzy increased and she screamed louder and louder, reaching a shattering climax which John himself had never been able to provide.
John tore out the earplugs and the video paused, with Ashley looking back at the camera as if she’d known it was there, her face alight with joyful lust.
Bic’s messages resumed:
It seems she liked to keep records of her affair. She particularly liked sex with agent Dante when you were in the same building...
More footage of Ashley, wearing her red dress, came on screen. She was kissing Dante goodbye after what must have been a passionate encounter, as her hair was tousled and Dante’s clothes a mess. She kissed him one last time before walking back to her private quarters she shared with John. The date stamp indicated it was filmed that day!
I took this from your security cameras in the White House. It seems they liked to take risks to heighten the enjoyment _
John recalled her dishevelled hair before she’d left with Dante that morning. Another image popped into his head of his wife touching Dante as she got into her SUV. She’d run her hand down the Head of Security’s arm and then she’d looked up at John, who’d watched from their sitting room window. Dante had said something which made Ashley laugh and John realised what he’d seen wasn’t Ashley trying to make him jealous, but a blatant declaration of her affair, which he’d been too blind to see. He felt sick, and held onto one of the Conference Room’s marble pillars.
‘Are you okay, Mr President?’ said one of Dante’s men.
‘Fine.’ John glared at the man, who returned to his station.
You see, Mr President, the Secret Service are not what they seem, nor is the man tasked with your safety _
‘Dante may have betrayed me,’ John said, still struggling with the truth, ‘but he wouldn’t kill innocent civilians. You’re mixing truth with lie.’
Am I, Mr President? Am I? _
Yet another video played on the device and John watched as Dante struck FBI Director Flynn from behind, broke his neck and then hid his body in a locker.
You see, Mr President, the men that surround you are not there for your protection, they’re there to make sure you go where the GMRC wants you to go. Do you think you’re a free man, Mr President? _
John thought back to all the times Dante and his men had curtailed his trips, stopped him going places and called a halt to state visits.
John looked around at the Secret Service and their dark glasses, grim faces and concealed weapons. The hacker was right; he wasn’t free at all. He looked back down at the device.
You see, Mr President, there isn’t a single GMRC mole within your administration, there’s a whole army of them. The Secret Service itself _
Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Five
John closed his eyes as the sound of his wife having sex with his friend resounded through his mind. He couldn’t get the sight out of his head: Ashley writhing in pleasure in the company of another man, the man he’d trusted with his life. The sex tape had been bad enough – this – this was too much.
He looked back down at the device as Bic continued to communicate his repulsive truths.
Now you know why I didn’t hesitate in killing your agents when we abducted you, Mr President. For make no mistake, when the time comes they will not hesitate to kill you _
John looked around him. Two of Dante’s agents guarded the door before him, while another six protected the other exits. Not to mention the four more who even now drew closer to him. Am I seeing the truth? John thought, his mind in turmoil. Is this true? Ashley and Dante, together? Dante murdering the FBI Director? Isn’t that what the hacker would want, to separate me from the only protection I have? It was too convenient. And yet John knew it might be true. It felt right. More right than the GMRC giving him exactly what he wanted, exactly when he needed it. Another line of text crept across the display:
And you know what this all means, don’t you, Mr President? _
‘Oh, my God,’ John whispered. ‘The asteroid threat is real.’
You have less than three hours, Mr President _
‘Three hours till what?’
What do you think? _
John stared at the screen as it dawned on him what the hacker was saying. THREE HOURS UNTIL IMPACT!
‘What do I do?’
You need to get away from the Secret Service. Now, before it’s too late _
John looked up from the screen. It was like everyone he looked at was looking straight back him. Do they know I know? Do they know what’s coming? Most of his staff seemed oblivious, as did the foreign diplomats, including the EU president and Chinese premier, who both gave him a smile in acknowledgement as he looked their way. John’s gaze turned back to his security detail and noticed as another of his agents checked their watch. Oh, sweet Jesus, he thought, terrified. They know it’s coming!
John lifted the screen to his mouth and whispered. ‘I have to get out of here. I have to warn the nation.’ But when he looked, he saw the screen was switched off. Bic had gone and John was on his own.
Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Six
Oh, my God, John thought. Oh, my God. All those people. What do I do?! What do I do?!!
Do what you must, he told himself, the thought coming unbidden. You must order an evacuation of the Central and Eastern states.
It’s too late. There’s not enough time! A memory of a gum-chewing man being interviewed on TV popped into John’s head:
‘You got one thing wrong,’ the man had said in reference to the asteroid.
‘And what’s that?’ the reporter had said, frowning in irritation.
‘I never said it was small.’
I never said it was small ... I never said it was small ...
The words resounded around John’s head and he thought, oh, my God, how big is it?! But as he contemplated this horror, another terrible thought made itself known: An impact now will spark a world war. He strode to the conference room’s doors and two Secret Service agents blocked his way.
‘It’s too dangerous out there, sir,’ said one of the agents. ‘The intruders are still at large. As soon as we get the all-clear, we’ll let you know.’
‘That’s not an option,’ John said, trying to think of something. ‘I need to speak to my wife, it’s urgent.’ He daren’t say he needed to speak to Paul, they might suspect he knew more than he should.
The agents swapped looks and one said to the other, ‘This sector has been given the all-clear.’
‘Is there a problem?’ another agent said from behind.
John turned. ‘I need to speak to my wife, it can’t wait.’
The man nodded. He spoke into his radio and then nodded to his team. ‘Gatekeeper is moving. Western door. On my mark. Open them,’ – he gestured to his men – ‘mark.’
Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2) Page 104