Homler tore off his goggles and turned a white, desperate face to Pinter. “I… I…” Whatever he tried to say was cut short as Homler’s body suddenly convulsed.
Pinter stared down at his partner for a second and saw a deep puncture on the side of his neck. A dart? A snakebite? Pinter put two fingers against the side of his friend’s throat, felt a rapid heartbeat. Homler’s entire body was rigid now; white foam bubbled from the corners of his mouth. Pinter recognized the signs of toxic shock, but whether this was poison or some natural neurotoxin was uncertain. All that was clear was that he had to escape and he could not carry Homler over the fence.
Pinter felt bad about it, but self-preservation was a much stronger drive.
“Sorry, Sundance,” he murmured, and as he rose and backed toward the fence he swept his rifle back and forth, searching the shadows with night vision. The grass stretched away before him, and except for wild-flowers blowing in the wind, nothing moved. It made no sense. What had attacked his partner?
When Pinter felt the metal links of the fence press into his back he turned and started climbing. He made it all the way to the top before the darkness reached out of the trees and took him.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
The Warehouse, Baltimore, Maryland
Sunday, August 29, 4:39 A.M.
Time Remaining on the Extinction Clock: 79 hours, 21 minutes
We gathered around a conference table you could have landed an F-18 on. Grace and I on one side, Dr. Hu across from us, Church at the head, and a dozen department heads and analysts filling out the other seats. We all had laptops and stacks of notes. As usual there were plates of cookies on the table as well as pitchers of water and pots of coffee.
Church said, “We have a lot to cover, so let’s dig right in. Yesterday was a very bad day for us, and not just because of the acrimony of the Vice President and the unfortunate injuries sustained by Sergeant Faraday. Yesterday none of us were playing our A-game. We reacted to the NSA issue as if it was the only thing on our plate. Our operational efficiency was so low the numbers are not worth discussing.”
Hu started to say something, but Church shook his head.
“Let me finish. I think we’ve been played.” He studied how that hit each of us. “As you know, I’m not a big believer in coincidences. I am, however, a subscriber to the big-picture approach. When I say that I think we’ve been played, I mean that too many important things happened at the same time, and all of it was timed to coincide with our need to pull back virtually all of our resources. Imagine how things might have played if the NSA had succeeded in either obtaining MindReader or forcing us to shut it down. It would have been the same as being handcuffed and blindfolded.” He looked around the room. “Does anyone disagree?”
We shook our heads. “Actually, boss, not to sound like a suckup, but this is what I’ve been thinking. It’s what I wanted to tell you before I left Denver.”
He nodded as if he’d already guessed that. “Do you want to venture a guess as to what’s happening?”
“No. Or at least not yet,” I said. “There are still some blanks that need filling in. You told me a little about the Cabal and some Cold War stuff. That has to be tied to this, so why don’t you bring us up to speed on that and then I’ll play a little what-if. That work for you?”
“It does.” He poured himself some coffee and addressed the whole group. “Based on what Captain Ledger found in Deep Iron, I think we’re seeing one thing, one very large case. Because we’ve been out of the loop and off our game, we haven’t caught a good glimpse of it. It’s like the story of the three blind men describing an elephant. However, we don’t yet know if this is something that has years to go before it becomes a general public threat or if it’s about to blow up in our faces. My guess? There’s a fuse lit somewhere and we have to find it.”
“How do we start?” asked Grace.
He took a cookie from the plate, bit off an edge, and chewed it thoughtfully for a moment. “To the general public the Cold War was about the struggle between democracy and socialism. That’s the kind of oversimplified propaganda that both sides found useful to perpetuate. What it was in fact was a struggle for power during a time of massive political and technological change. During the war there was a massive spike in all kinds of scientific research, from rockets to medicine. Those decades saw the development of everything from the microchip to the cell phone. Some of the most groundbreaking work for the development of many of today’s scientific marvels, however, predated the Cold War to the thirties and early forties in Germany.”
“Absolutely,” interrupted Bug. “There was wild science-fiction stuff going on back then. Z1, the first binary computer, was developed by Konrad Zuse in Berlin in 1936, and his Z3, developed in 1941, was the first computer controlled by software. People today seem to think computers started with the PC.”
“Exactly,” said Church. “And there were similar landmark moments in medicine and other sciences. After the fall of Berlin there was a scramble to acquire German science and German scientists. Even people who should have been tried as war criminals were pardoned-or simply disappeared-by governments that wanted these scientists to continue their work. Openly or, more often, in secret. There are many-myself included-who believe that all of the information gathered by Nazi scientists should have been destroyed. Completely. However, governments often don’t care about the cost of information so long as the information itself has value.”
Grace said, “So, you’re saying that we kept that stuff… and used it?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Sure,” said Dr. Hu. “Most of what we know about how the human body reacts to fatal or near-fatal freezing comes from research done in the camps. Virtually all of the biological warfare science of the fifties, sixties, and seventies has its roots in experiments done on prisoners at the camps and by Japan’s Unit Seven Thirty-one-their covert biological and chemical warfare research and development unit.”
“We pay the Ferryman with the Devil’s coin,” said Grace.
“Indeed we do,” said Church.
“You’d think we’d learn, but my optimism for that died a long time ago. Many of the doctors and scientists involved in these experiments were given pardons. Much of this research was intended for use by the military and intelligence communities, though some had more directly beneficial uses for the common good. Some became the property of corporations which exploited the beneficial aspects of these sciences in order to bring lucrative products to market.”
“Big Pharma,” said Grace with asperity.
“Among others,” Church agreed. “There were also groups within governments or formed by like-minded people from various countries, who desired to see less savory lines of science carried through to their conclusions, and that’s where our story begins.”
Church pressed a button and a dozen photographs appeared on the big TV screen. The faces were all of white men and women, and some were clearly morgue photos. I recognized none of them.
“There was a very powerful group active from the end of World War Two all the way to the last days of the Cold War. They called themselves the Cabal, and their individual biographies are in the red folders you each have. They belonged to no nation, though many of their members had strong ties to the Nazi Party. At least three of the Cabal members were themselves former Nazis, while others may have been sympathizers but were actually citizens of the United States, Great Britain, Italy, Argentina, and several other countries. These were all very powerful people who could draw on personal and corporate fortunes to fund their goals.”
“And what were those goals?” I asked.
“They had several. Ethnic cleansing was one of their primary goals. They waged an undeclared war on what they called the ‘mud people,’ which is a blanket phrase for anyone who isn’t descended from a very specific set of Caucasian bloodlines.”
“Guess no one bloody well told them that we all evolved from a bunch of apes in Africa,” said Grace.
Church smiled. “They would not be the first-or last-group to view evolution as a ‘theory.’ One of the key players in the Cabal, a brilliant geneticist known only by the code name ‘Merlin,’ apparently believed that humankind had been visited by aliens, angels, or gods-accounts of his beliefs vary-and that the purest human bloodlines are descended from those celestial beings.”
“Oh brother,” I said, and even Hu gave me a smile and nod.
