"Ouch…, that was going to be a tough one...."
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Chapter Forty Seven
CBWI Bunker
Vale, Colorado
Tuesday 6th Dec 5.00pm
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The next day, Tim drove to the airport and took the President’s private jet to Vale. It was two weeks since he had last visited the laboratory, and officially there was every reason for him to make another visit that week. Anyway, being in overall charge of the project, he could come and go as he pleased.
His aircraft touched down just as the sun was setting across the mountains. Officially, the military airstrip into the laboratory facilities didn’t exist, and all air traffic flying in and out of the base wasn’t recorded or logged. Denver airport had got used to the strange comings and goings in and out of the area, and the CIA had their own man in the air traffic control centre who worked for them, guiding the planes in and out of the area efficiently and secretly. No 'official' records ever existed of the lab’s visitors.
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The CBWI facility at Vale was a huge affair. Built into the side of a mountain, at one time it had been an underground nuclear bunker, designed to house four hundred government officers with enough supplies to keep them alive for two years in the event of a nuclear attack.
With the end of the Cold War the nuclear threat was significantly reduced. The nuclear bunker had been mothballed and after sitting empty for many years, its potential as an ideal laboratory facility for genetic and biological research had been spotted by Daniel, Tim’s boss at the CIA. After making a few phone calls, the facility had been reassigned and the airport at the base reopened.
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Working at the institute was a strange affair. Scientists worked underground for a month at a time, only seeing the outside world through the special rooms that had been built closer to the top of the mountain and whose camouflaged metallic curtains were only drawn back at night time, affording the inhabitants a stunning night view of the lights of the city in the valley below.
Special 'natural' lighting filled the subterranean corridors and rooms, and natural cinematic views of the outside countryside were projected in real time to fake imitation windows and large screens which adorned the walls of corridors, private rooms and recreational areas, going some way to making the whole establishment feel less claustrophobic and acceptable.
A month had been chosen as the minimum habitation time for any tour of duty, the idea being that based on the average incubation period for most known viruses, it was likely that anyone accidentally infected with something from the labs would first develop the disease and show symptoms inside the centre, before leaving the confines of the lab and infecting the world outside.
It was a flaky rule at best, not really standing up to much scientific scrutiny, but it had stuck and no one really complained too much. Only senior officials, like Tim, were able to flaunt the rules without being questioned.
Life underground was made as luxurious as possible for everyone, and the time passed by quickly. Especially when working on something interesting and of great importance. And there had never been anything like the “Crown of Thorns” project before.
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Tim was picked up at the airport by a Captain dressed in the uniform of the Military Council Protection Elite, a special core of crack soldiers recently pulled together by President Jamieson with sworn allegiance to protect himself and other members of the Senate from terrorist activity. The idea to form the MCPE had been a prudent one, especially with the growing numbers of terrorist assassinations occurring throughout the world.
Despite himself Tim admired the crack soldiers, knowing that had he been younger he would have been attracted to join them himself, but he hated the uniforms which reminded him of the Waffen SS troops created by Adolf Hitler in the Second World War of the twentieth century. No doubt that’s where the President had got his inspiration from. However, instead of the skull and cross bones which the SS used as their logo, the symbol borne on every MCPE uniform and cap was an eye looking out from the middle of a pyramid, the symbol of America that used to adorn the old dollar bills.
Escorted by the young captain they crossed quickly through the security checks at the military airport and jumped into a jet-shuttle which projected them effortlessly through the underground tunnel system into the heart of the mountain and the complex of labs.
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Tim had wanted to keep his visit low key, but as he stepped out of the shuttle Colonel John Smart appeared as if from nowhere and saluted him.
“Welcome to Vale, Sir! I trust you had a good journey?”
“John...yes, thank you I did. How did you know I was coming?”
“Surely you would be surprised if I didn’t, Sir. That’s what you pay me for.”
“I suppose so...but I want you to keep it low key...I’m only here for a flying visit. I have to be in Washington by tomorrow night.”
“Understood Sir. Please, come this way...”
As Tim followed the Colonel through a maze of bright white walled passages, with doctors and scientists in white coats streaming past them talking excitedly and scanning print outs and clip boards as they walked, Tim tried to curb the annoyance he felt at the Colonel knowing he was coming. Okay, so it was the Colonel’s job to know, but Tim was the head of the president’s secret service and security, and the thought that even he was monitored and checked, and not beyond suspicion from his own colleagues really bugged him. The America he loved was falling apart. It was turning into a military and police state far worse than anything America had ever fought against and feared and resisted during the last century.
Tim caught his negative train of thought and curtailed it abruptly, reprimanding himself severely for allowing himself to think like that. He wouldn’t tolerate such negative thinking in his staff so he mustn’t allow himself to think like that either.
Passing through the rabbit warren of tunnels they eventually came to an elevator which they rode down four levels, coming out into a room with three doors on either side of a small square reception area.
“These are the executive suites. They’ve been refurbished and opened up since your last visit. They were being used as storage areas since the lab was mothballed, but with so many people working on the Crown of Thorns Project, we’ve been running out of space. Anyway, there’s a guard stationed outside your door permanently for your security. If you need anything you can ask him to arrange it for you by calling him from the phone inside your room. The other rooms are empty just now so you’ve got the floor to yourself.” Colonel Smart showed him to the door of his executive suite.
“Excellent. Thanks for your help, I appreciate it.” Tim thanked the Colonel. “Oh, before you go, can you arrange for Prof. Stuart and Prof. Calvert to join me in my room for dinner at 10pm this evening?”
“Certainly Sir… I’ll leave you to wash up now Sir. If you need me at all, just ask the Corporal and he’ll call me. I hope I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast? I can give you an update then if you would like?”
“That would be great. I think I’ll take a shower and make a few calls just now. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.”
The Colonel saluted, turned and stepped back into the elevator. The Corporal at the desk immediately outside the elevator clicked his heels and jumped to attention, and then ushered Tim into his executive suite. It was a palatial affair, more like a Royal suite at the Waldorf than a room in an underground bunker. Tim fixed himself a quick drink at his own private bar and downed the whisky in one. He opened up his suitcase and took out a small brown envelope which he quickly slipped into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Looking in the mirror briefly to adjust his tie, he stepped out of his suite, into the waiting elevator and rode it to Level 3, the floor where the Crown of Thorns was being kept in one of the laboratories.
It was Tuesday evening. Tim knew that this was the evening that Prof. Calvert and Prof. Stuart had their group team meetings in the main
presentation theatres on Level Two, which meant that the labs would be empty of all staff working on the Crown of Thorns project. As he tapped the day’s security code onto the security pad outside the lab door, then scanned his retina and the finger print on his left index finger, he checked his watch and made a mental note that he had only got forty-five minutes before he had to be back in his room to meet the others. Forty-five minutes during which he had to somehow try to get the Crown’s original owner, or God, to grant him one small miracle just like the other miracles that had already been granted to a few of the other people who had come in contact with the Crown.
And what exactly was he meant to do? Prostrate himself on the floor before the Crown? Kneel before it? Touch it? How exactly was a person meant to beg for a miracle anyway?
As he stepped into the lab and the door closed behind him, he locked it from the inside and moved towards the airlock. He was just about to bunny up, and climb quickly into his protective biological suit, when he checked himself.
What was he doing? What was he going to do? The Crown wasn’t a god…it was just an object. What madness had possessed him to come all this way to 'touch' an object in the hope of being granted a miracle?
He stood before the row of bunny suits, his heart pounding in his chest and his hands shaking nervously. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the brown envelope, taking out the photographs of his daughter that he’d brought with him.
As he looked at the smiling face of his daughter, her eyes bright with laughter as she played in their garden one afternoon last summer, Tim fought in vain to suppress the wall of pain which came from nowhere and hit him like a moving train. The tears burst from his eyes, and he began to sob uncontrollably.
He fell to his knees, letting the photographs fall from his hands onto the floor below, and with his hands dangling loosely by his side he threw back his head and let out a long, guttural moan that started somewhere in his feet and found its way up through his legs and stomach and chest and out into the world outside.
“I’ve never asked you for anything in my life before, never, but please hear me now… GOD... Please...please cure my daughter...Take me...give her my life...cure her...I KNOW you can do it!...”
He fell face forward onto this chest, throwing his arms out in front of him.
Tim didn't really know how much he believed the words he had said. He didn't know for certain if there was a God. He didn't know what to believe in any more. As he lay on the floor of the lab crying his eyes out from the futility of it all, maybe no one was listening to his tears. But as he cried he realised that if there was no one there, if there was no God, then Tim and his wife had exhausted all the possibilities, and sure as the dawn would come, his daughter was going to die.
"There has to be a God...there just has to be!!!" he cried in desperation, the tears coming fast and furiously.
The tears flowed from deep within his soul, and it was twenty minutes before he stopped sobbing and realised there were no more tears to be shed. As he lay on the ground, his face pressed against the heated tiles of the lab floor, he slowly opened his eyes and looked around him.
He was alone with the sound of the air filtration units. As the last of the tears flowed from his eyes, he pushed himself up onto his knees and gathered up the pictures scattered on the floor around him, putting them back into the envelope before inserting them once more into his jacket pocket.
He stood up and looked briefly at the wall of bunny suits and then turned back towards the lab door. He wouldn’t be going into to see or touch the Crown. He had cried his soul out to ‘God’, and if ‘God’ hadn’t heard him, then he never would. His tears had said everything his heart had wanted to.
Tim wasn’t a good man. He knew that himself, but his daughter was good. Tim’s request to God had been real. Heartfelt. From the very core of his 'soul', assuming of course that he still had one.
As he recovered his posture and checked himself in the mirror before stepping from the lab into the busy corridor outside, he knew that there was nothing more that he could do.
He had spoken to his God. Whether or not his God had heard him, was another matter. He prayed that 'He' had.
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Tina lay asleep in her warm bedroom at the Curt’s family home. Built in the affluent Washington D.C. suburb of Belgravia, each house in the exclusive suburb lay in sprawling grounds large enough to build a small town upon.
Unfortunately, leukaemia was blind to the trappings of wealth, as well as the suffering of those living in poverty. It affected both those with rich and poor clothes alike. Even the best doctors that money could buy had been unable to help the Curts family in their time of need, and as Tina slept in her bed upstairs, her mother Regina cried alone in the study downstairs.
The gin did little to take the edge of her sorrow. Tina was her baby, and now she was alone and she didn’t have to be strong for Tim, she mourned for the loss that was soon to come, and for the baby that was going to be taken from her so soon.
Outside in the private grounds that surrounded their house, no one could hear her tears or share her pain.
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The grandfather clock at the top of the wide arching staircase chimed eleven times. Tina stirred in her bed and her eyelids fluttered as the brightness penetrated through the layers of her dream.
She was swimming in the ocean, full of energy and happy. She didn’t want to leave the dream…but that light…it was so bright...so very bright.
Suddenly the beautiful sea was gone, and she was dreaming that she was alone in her bedroom, a light brighter than she had ever seen before, coming from the corner of her room. In her dream her eyes flickered open and Tina lifted her heavy head slightly from her pillow. The brightness in her bedroom was pouring from a doorway hovering in the air above her doll's house. She blinked and shaded her eyes.
‘Funny…I can’t remember a door being there before…’ Tina wondered to herself. She tried to summon up some more energy and she turned her head to face the light. The effort to lift herself was too much and she sank back into the pillows, her face turned towards the warm glow.
The doorway from which the light poured into her bedroom shimmered around the edges and floated in the air half-a-metre above the ground. As she watched, the silhouette of a man cut across the light and stood in the doorway. He stepped through the doorway and walked towards her. He was tall, with long flowing golden brown hair, which cascaded over his shoulders and down across his long flowing white robe.
As he crossed the room towards her bed he lifted his hands out towards her and whispered her name.
“Tina…do not be afraid.”
She felt no fear. There was only a warmth within her. A feeling of joy and peace. A wave of unquestionable love. A security, a knowledge of much happiness to come. A strength. A power. All of this and more flowed into her and filled her body as the stranger in her dream took her outstretched hands. She felt the peace flow into her. The struggle that had raged in her body for the past year came to an end. And she felt good. Slowly she found the strength to pull herself up into a sitting position. The man sat down beside her on the edge of her bed. Once again he took her hand in his and he smiled at her.
‘His eyes are the most fantastic blue, so beautiful...so peaceful...’ Tina thought to herself.
The stranger spoke. His voice was gentle and kind, but he spoke with authority.
“Tina...get up from your bed and go downstairs to your mother…she is sad and needs you. Tell her not to be sad anymore. Tell her their prayers of love have been answered.”
“Who are you?” she asked quietly, in awe of the stranger.
The light from the doorway in the corner of the room bathed the stranger from behind, and Tina found it difficult to see the man clearly without squinting her eyes. The touch from his hands was warm and gentle, and his voice calming.
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“I am your friend.”
The stranger rose slowly from the bed. He smiled again, then turned his back and slowly walked back towards the lighted doorway. As he crossed the threshold of the door the light closed around him and the doorway closed from all sides, the patch of the light in the air growing smaller and smaller until it became a pinprick of light hanging in mid air above the doll's house in the corner of her room. Then suddenly it was gone and the room was completely dark again and she was alone.
Her eye lids flickered open and as Tina slowly awoke she became aware of a sound coming from the stairwell outside her room. It was her mother crying loudly in the study on the floor below. She jumped from her bed and ran towards the door. She took the stairs two at a time, and as she crossed the hall and into the study, her mother looked up in disbelief and cried her name aloud.
“Tina, oh Tina!” Regina reached up and grabbed her daughter, drawing her close into her chest and hugging her with all her might. “Tina, Tina, I love you sooo much…”
“Mommy, mommy! Stop it…You don’t need to cry anymore! The man said your prayers have been answered. Stop it mommy...” the little girl cried aloud.
Through her tears Regina heard her daughter crying loudly, and she drew back from her and held her at arms length. Slowly it dawned on Regina that Tina was standing on her own two feet …unaided, and in disbelief she realised that Tina had managed to come down the stairs from her bedroom on her own.
“What did you say Tina?”
“The man said ‘your prayers of love have been answered.’ ”
“Who said this?”
“The man in my dream. He said he was my friend. He was beautiful.”
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Chapter Forty Eight
Vale, Colorado
Tuesday 6th Dec 10.00pm
The Messiah Conspiracy - A gripping page-turning Medical Thriller - [Omnibus Edition containing Book 1 & Book 2] Page 24