How long is this assignment going to take? Robert wondered, as he strapped himself into his first-class seat on the Swissair flight. As the plane rushed down the runway, its huge Rolls-Royce engines hungrily swallowing the night air, Robert relaxed and closed his eyes. Was it really just a few years ago that I took this same flight with Susan to London? No. It was more like a lifetime ago.
The plane touched down at Heathrow at six twenty-nine p.m., on schedule. Rober made his way out of the maze, and took taxi into the sprawling city. He passed a hundred familiar landmarks, and he could hear Susan’s voice, excitedly commenting about them. In those golden days it had never mattered where they were. It was simply enough that they were together. They brought their own happiness with them, their own special excitement in each other. The
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The doomsday conspiracy chapter 16: how damn lucky can a man get
Robert took the bus into Richmond and began strolling the streets. Within five minutes he identified his trackers. There were two of them. One was on foot and one was in an automobile. Robert tried ducking into restaurants and shops and hurrying out back doors, but he was unable to shake them. They were too well trained. Finally, it was almost time to return to the Farm and Robert still had not been able to get away from them. They were watching him too closely. Robert walked into a department store and the two men took up positions where they could cover the entrances and exits. Robert went up the escalator to the men’s department. Thirty minutes later, when he came down, he was wearing a different suit, a coat and hat, talking to a woman and carrying a baby in his arms. He walked past his pursuers without being recognized.He was the
The doomsday conspiracy chapter 17: closer to home
The following Monday morning Robert reported for his first day of duty at the 17th District Office of Naval Intelligence at the Pentagon.Admiral Whittaker said warmly, “Welcome home, Robert. Apparently you impressed the hell out of Colonel Johnson.”Robert smiled. “He’s quite impressive himself.”Over coffee, the Admiral asked, “Are you ready to go to work?”“Eager.”“Good. We have a situation in Rhodesia …”Working in the Office of Naval Intelligence was even more exciting than Robert had anticipated. Each assignment was different, and Robert was given the ones classified “extremely sensitive”. He brought in a defector who revealed Noriega’s drug-smuggling operation in Panama, exposed a mole working for Marcos in the American Consulate in Manila, and helped set up a secret listening post in Morocco. He was sent on missions to South America and to the East Indies. The only thing that disturbed him was the long separations from Susan. He hated to be away from her, and he missed her ter
The doomsday conspiracy chapter 18: i can't wait
When Robert broke the news to Susan, he said gently, “This is my last overseas assignment. After this I’ll be home so much you’ll get sick of me.” She smiled up at him. “There isn’t that much time in the world. We’re going to be together forever.” The chase after the Fox was the most frustrating thing Robert had ever experienced. He picked up his trail in Argentina, but missed his quarry by one day. The trail led to Tokyo and China and then Malaysia. Whoever the Fox was, he left just enough of a trail to lead to where he had been, but never to where he was. The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, and always Robert was just behind the Fox. He called Susan almost every day. In the beginning, it was, “I’ll be home in a few days, darling.” And then, “Imight be home next week.” And then, finally, “I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” In the end, Robert had to give up. He had been on the Fox’s trail for two and a half months, with no success. When he returned to Susan, s
The doomsday conspiracy chapter 19: how stupid can i get
Early the following morning, Dustin Thornton sent for Robert. “What are you working on, Commander?” He knows perfectly well what I’m working on, Robert thought. “I’m winding up my file on the diplomat from Singapore, and …” “It doesn’t seem to be occupying enough of your time.” “I beg your pardon?” “In case you’ve forgotten, Commander, the Office of Naval Intelligence is not mandated to investigate American citizens.” Robert was watching him, puzzled. “What are you …?” “I’ve been notified by the FBI that you have been trying to obtain information that is completely out of the jurisdiction of this agency.” Robert felt a sudden rush of anger. That sonofabitch Traynor had betrayed him. So much for friendship. “It was a personal matter,” Robert said. “I …” “The computers of the FBI are not there for your convenience, nor to help you harass private citizens. Do Imake myself clear?” “Very.” “That’s all.” Robert raced back to his office. His fingers trembled as he dialled 202-324-
The doomsday conspiracy chapter 20: absolutely perfect
Leslie Mothershed was in a state beyond euphoria. The moment he had returned to London, clutching his precious film, he had hurried into the small pantry he had converted into a darkroom and checked to make sure he had everything on hand: film-processing tank, thermometer, springtype clothes pins, four large beakers, a timer, and developer, stop-bath solutions, and fixer. He turned out the light and switched on a small red overhead lamp. His hands were trembling as he opened the cartridges and removed the film. He took deep breaths to control himself. Nothing must go wrong this time, he thought. Nothing. This is for you, Mother. Carefully, he rolled the film into reels. He placed the reels in the tank and filled it with developer, the first of the liquids he would use. It would require a constant temperature of 68°F and periodic agitation. After eleven minutes, he emptied the contents and poured the fixer over the reels. He was getting nervous again, terrified of making a mistake. He
The doomsday conspiracy chapter 21: he's a bad lair
Robert took a taxi to Whitechapel. They drove through the City, the business section of London, heading east until they reached the Whitechapel Road, the area made infamous a century earlier by Jack the Ripper. Along the Whitechapel Road were dozens of outside stalls selling everything from clothing to fresh vegetables, to carpets. As the taxi neared Mothershed’s address, the neighbourhood became more and more dilapidated. Graffiti was scrawled all over the peeling, brownstone buildings. They passed the Weaver’s Arms pub. That would be Mothershed’s local, Robert thought. Another sign read: “Walker Bookmaker” … Mothershed probably places his bets on horses there. They finally reached 213A Grove Road. Robert dismissed the taxi and studied the building in front of him. It was an ugly two-storey building that had been converted into small flats. Inside was the man who had a complete list of the witnesses Robert had been sent to find.*** *** *** Leslie Mothershed was in the living room,
The doomsday conspiracy chapter 22: nothing left but ashes
Leslie Mothershed was lost in a golden daydream. He was being interviewed by the world press. They were asking him about the huge castle he had just bought in Scotland, his chateau in the South of France, his enormous yacht. “And is it true that the Queen has invited you to become the official Royal photographer?”“Yes. I said I would let her know. And now, ladies and gentlemen, if you will all excuse me, I’m late for my showat the BBC …” His reverie was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. He looked at his watch. Eleven o’clock. Has that man returned? He walked over to the door and cautiously opened it. In the doorway stood a man shorter than Mothershed (that was the first thing he noticed about him) with thick glasses and a thin, sallow face. “Excuse me,” the man said diffidently. “I apologize for disturbing you at this hour. I live just down the block. The sign outside says you’re a photographer.” “So?” “Do you do passport photos?Leslie Mothershed do passport photos? The ma
The doomsday conspiracy chapter 23: you lying bastard
The streets of Zurich were filled with weird-looking creatures with odd shapes, misshapen giants with large, grotesque bodies and tiny eyes, with skin the colour of boiled fish. They were meat eaters, and she hated the fetid smells they exuded from their bodies. Some of the females wore animal skins, the remains of the creatures they had murdered. She was still stunned by the terrible accident that had taken away the life essence of her companions. She had been on earth for four cycles of what these beings called luna, and she had not eaten in all that time. She was faint from thirst. The only water she had been able to drink was the fresh rain water in the farmer’s trough, and it had not rained since the night she arrived. The other water on earth was undrinkable. She had gone into an alien feeding place, but she had been unable to stand the stench. She had tried to eat their raw vegetables and fruit, but they were tasteless, not like the succulent food at home. She was called the G
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