Laura 02 The God Code Page 9

  “Still not feeling like talking?”

  “I will kill you, I swear, I will!”

  “Okay, have it your way.” Victor walks back to Ana and coming to stand next to her he continues, “If you do not want to talk, then there is no need for Ana to hear you.”

  Patrick watches Victor through the sarong as he walks over to Ana. Every muscle in his body tightens as Victor bends down and pulls Ana’s hair away on the left side of her face.

  Patrick struggles against the restraints as Victor takes out a knife and slowly brings it to Ana’s ear. Patrick gasps as Victor quickly jerks the knife back, cutting off her ear. Ana’s scream chills Patrick to the bone.

  “Okay, okay, I will tell you everything!”

  “I do not believe you.”

  Patrick holds his breath in disbelief as Victor pulls the hair back on the other side of Ana’s head. Blood runs down Ana’s face on the left side where Victor has cut off her ear. Again Victor places the knife against Ana’s face and quickly pulls back. Ana is half in delirium from the pain, and Laura is sobbing with her hands in front of her mouth, feeling Ana’s pain. Patrick stares at Victor as he slowly approaches him with something in his hands, it is Ana’s ears.

  “I have something for you,” Victor comments as he carefully places an ear in each of Patrick’s palms. The ears are wet from blood and Patrick closes his fingers around them, feeling the familiar roundish shape with the thick round rim of the outer edges of the ears.

  “Please, please stop!” Patrick sobs. Victor smiles, he has broken Patrick.

  “I can put those on ice for you. A good doctor will be able to reattach them for you. Do you want me to do that for you?”

  “Yes please.”

  “Good, then tell me all you know.”

  Patrick slowly looks up from the ears in his hands to Victor.

  “I work for Marcos, Hernandez’ son. After you killed Hernandez, his son took over the family business. He is crazy. He brought in an army, every drug dealer and pusher and lowlife scum he could find. All the men he commands all over the world, everyone who worked for his father, and all of their men. He also somehow managed to secure arms.”

  “How many men and what is his intention?”

  “So far as I know, around 5000 men. He intends to overthrow the government and take over the country. Oh, and he wants you, he wants you badly. He will not rest until he finds and tortures you.”

  “Where is their base and when are they planning to attack?”

  “Their base is at an old abandoned farm, it used to belong to his father before he became a drug lord.”

  “I know where it is.” Jose speaks for the first time.

  “When are they planning to attack?” Victor is standing in front of Patrick as he speaks.

  Patrick laughs at Victor before speaking. “You are too late. The attack will happen tomorrow morning. I and my men were supposed to take the airport and also capture Jose. Marcos heard that Jose is a friend of yours and wants to interrogate him in order to find out where you are.”

  “5000 men, you are joking.” Victor takes the ears out of Patrick’s hands.

  “I am telling the truth, now get some ice!”

  Patrick’s heart skips a beat as he looks on in horror as Victor takes a bite of one of the ears.

  “You want a bite? It’s actually good.” Victor holds out an ear to Patrick.

  “You are insane!”

  “Then tell me the truth.” Victor takes another bite of the ear.

  “It is all I know, it is all true! You are a mad man!”

  “Not actually.”

  Slowly Victor bends down and starts to remove the sarong around Patrick’s head. To Patrick’s relief, he realizes that he was conned. What he thought were Ana’s ears, are actually pieces of dried apricot with raspberry jam on. Victor slowly walks over to Ana and cuts her loose. As soon as she is free, she jumps up and runs to Patrick. Patrick sighs with relief as he notices the ketchup on Ana’s knee and cheeks.

  “I love you Patrick.” Ana hugs Patrick as she speaks, who is speechless, his mouth hanging open.

  Finally Patrick speaks. “You are truly talented, but you cannot save this country, or yourself, and even less my daughter.” Patrick looks down as he speaks.

  “My baby, what happened to my baby?” Ana stands up, looking pleadingly at Patrick.

  “Marcos took her, and many others. That is why many of the men here fight for him.”

  “But you said she went to America to find good work, you said she will be safe.”

  “Marcos promised us he will give them work and take care of them. However, after the women reached America, Marcos threatened us that if we do not fight for him, he will kill them and us and all our families. If we fight for him, he will take care of the women in America and get them good jobs. However, I found out he lied when I overheard part of a conversation Marcos had with one of the men who went with the women. He phoned to inform Marcos that the women are at the destination. When I asked him about my daughter, he said she is not with the other men’s daughters and has a good job, but if I tell any of the men the truth about their daughters, he will take my daughter as his personal pet and kill me, Ana and the rest of our family, including our dog. Even so, now that I have failed to take the airport, I fear he may indeed kill her. So you see, you winning here today does not save this country, nor its daughters.”

  “We can ask other countries to help.” Laura steps forward.

  “You do not understand. He aims to kill almost all the people in the main city. That way, none of the farmers will resist him, and all of them will work for him, as he will have the only money in the country. There is no reasoning with him or his men. They are the meanest killers, drug dealers, weapons smugglers and women traffickers in the world. They aim to make Columbia their country.”

  “Do you have the cell phone number of any of the men with your daughter in America?”

  “No, only Marcos has that.”

  “Do you have Marcos’s cell number that the person from America dialed?”

  “Yes, but how does that help us?”

  Victor steps forward and cuts the tape around Patrick’s head, allowing him to move his head. Carefully he cuts Patrick’s right hand free.

  “Are there other locals whose daughters were taken at the main camp?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust them?”

  “If they had a choice, they would fight against Marcos. However, the local army and police have maybe 300 men, and few weapons, there is no way they can win. If we go against Marcos we and all our families will be killed, alongside the police.”

  “I am not asking them to fight. I am asking them to stay out of the way. Can you reach them and ask them to secretly get out of the camp and at least three miles away?”

  “Marcos will kill our daughters when he finds them missing. Even if you had an army to attack him, he will still have the time to make a call to America and have them killed as revenge. I am also sure he will give up if defeated, because he knows with his money, he will easily get people to get him out of jail. Then he will just get a new army and start again.”

  “Trust me, your daughters will be saved. Call the men and get them out of the camp in the next hour, or they are all dead.” Victor turns to Jose after speaking before continuing. “Jose, do you have a cell phone?”

  “Yes, here you go.” Victor takes the phone from Jose and places it in Patrick’s right hand.

  “Make the call.”

  Patrick hesitantly takes the phone from Victor, and then dials a number. As soon as someone answers on the other side Patrick speaks in a hushed tone as if the men around his friend can hear him on the other side.

  “Hendrik, this is Patrick. Get the men together secretly and get the hell out of the camp.”

  There is a short delay as Patrick listens to the reply, then he answers back. “No, I do not know what’s going to happen, just make sure you get out of the camp and at leas
t three miles away in the next hour, and do it secretly. And Hendrik, our daughters lives depend on no one knowing anything. Marcos has them locked up as sex slaves in America, I am sorry, but they will be rescued, just do as I ask.”

  Patrick hangs up the call, and then looks directly at Victor before speaking. “I do not know what you are planning, but I trust you with the life of my daughter and my family. You did not harm me or Ana when you could, I think you will not lie to me. You could also have left the men in the camp, but you did not. I know you do not trust me, but I will help you where I can.”

  “The time may come when I may need your help. For now, I have to make some calls.”

  Victor takes the cell phone from Patrick, then opens it up and removes the SIM card. After placing the card in his phone and activating it, he dials a number. The call connects, but no one speaks on the other end, waiting to see who dialed.

  “Andrea, this is Victor. I need your help.”

  “Victor! What the hell are you doing calling me? They are looking for you all over. There is a kill order on you.”

  “Who gave the kill order?”

  “The Pope himself. You sure made some enemies.”

  “Why did he do that?”

  “I do not know, Norman is not saying why.”

  “I will have to have a word with the Pope then. For now, I need you to hack into Norman’s computer and get the personal numbers of the Secretary of Homeland Security, and the President of the United States.”

  “Are you nuts? They are looking for you as well.”

  “I take it because of the data I have?”

  “You have been declared a threat to the safety and security of America, and have been branded as an international terrorist. I can be jailed for just talking to you.”

  “Are you going to help me or not?”

  “I….okay, give me 20 minutes. I will text you back.”

  “Thanks Andrea.” Victor hangs up the phone and starts to open an application on his phone.

  “What are you going to do?” Patrick has a puzzled look on his face as he speaks.

  “You will see soon enough. Jose, I need a computer with internet connection please.”

  “You can use the one in the office next door you had Ana in.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter 4

  The phone rings a third time, yet President Abraham does not answer. He just stares at the yellow light flashing on the phone next to the receiver. There are four lights in total, white, green, yellow and red. Each light corresponds to the urgency of the call. A yellow light means that it is very urgent, but not a crisis. Only the Secretary of Defense or the Vice President can trigger a yellow or red alarm. Slowly he reaches out and picks up the receiver; he is tired, not having had any sleep for 32 hours straight.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr President, we have a situation. We need you in the Situation Room.”

  “Okay, I will be there in 10 minutes.”

  Slowly, President Abraham replaces the handset. He knows that a situation requiring his presence in the Situation Room means that immediate decisions and actions are required, never a good thing. While standing up, he presses the intercom button next to the phone on his desk.

  “Yes, Mr. President, how can I help you?” Dora’s voice is cheerful as ever, bringing a smile to Abraham’s face. No matter how bad things are, she always manages to cheer him up.

  “Dora, please hold all my calls and cancel all meetings until further notice. I will be in the Situation Room.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  Abraham pushes the intercom button again, deactivating it, then takes his jacket from the rack next to his desk and walks to a side door of his office.

  For security, his office is directly linked with a secure passage to a secret entrance to the White House Situation Room. At the door, he places his right palm on a palm scanner and leans forward to enable the retina scanner to read his eye pattern. The palm scanner changes from blue to a light-green glow under his palm, and a small screen next to it activates, showing a phrase he needs to speak. He has fifteen seconds to speak the phrase, else alarms will sound and the room will be sealed. The phrase is randomly generated by the computer, sometimes hilarious phrases. The security is so that no one can capture his voice in public and make up a known phrase.

  “The sky is blue, Alfa Delta Two.”

  “Access granted, welcome Mr. President.” The voice coming from the computer reminds him of his GPS navigation system. Suddenly the door opens by itself, sliding sideways into the wall. Although the door looks like a normal wooden door, it is only painted on, being a solid four inches thick metal door, the same metal used on the outside of tanks for armor. As soon as he steps through the door, two guards on either side of the door come to attention and salute.

  “Good afternoon Mr. President”, both men speak at the same time.

  Abraham nods, deep in thought. Maybe it is the latest conflict in the Middle East that needs his attention. Abraham puts his jacket on as he walks down the brightly lit hallway, tiled with white marble tiles, leading to the West Wing of the White House.

  There are no paintings on the white walls, how boring. After 200 feet, the passage ends at another door, also guarded by two men. They have been watching him approach them since he stepped through the first door.

  “Good afternoon Mr. President.” Again, a trained unison of speech, with a salute.

  “Good afternoon.” The door has the same security as in his office, yet only the four guards assigned to guard the hallway can open the doors from the inside, preventing someone from overpowering the President in his office and gaining access to the Situation Room. One of the guards turns around and proceeds to perform the security checks. As soon as he utters the correct phrase, the door slides into the wall. Abraham nods to the two men and then steps into an elevator, leading to the basement that houses the Situation Room, already alive with action.

  The room is a 5,000 square foot room used for conference and intelligence management. It is used to deal with crises at home and abroad, and is normally run by the National Security Council staff, the President, and his advisors. The room has a long wooden desk in the center, with black leather chairs on either side. The walls are lined with multiple monitors and in some places computers where technicians can bring up information to any monitor or send commands to any of the defense forces, no matter where they are deployed.

  Jack Freeman, Secretary of Homeland Security, and Matthew Dixon, White House Chief of Staff are staring at a large monitor at the end of the room.

  Everyone greets the President as he walks over to the two men, counting the people in the room, 20 in total, not a full complement. In crisis situations, around 30 senior officers from various intelligence and military originations will be present in the room. Thus, the situation is not yet a crisis for America.

  “What do we have Jack?”

  “Good day Mr. President.” Jack touches the side of the screen as he speaks, causing the view to zoom out, enlarging the map.

  “Good day Sir.”

  “Good day Matthew.” Abraham nods to Matthew then turns his attention back to the monitor.

  “Sir, we are seeing alarming movement from the troops we have been monitoring over the past two weeks assembling in Columbia. It seems that they are gearing up for action. We are also seeing heat signatures here sir, indicating explosions. Jack touches the screen and drags an area into view, and then taps on the zoom-in button until the airport comes into full view. The satellite image is as clear as day, showing the burning airplanes and dead men on the ground outside the building, including Jose’s men patrolling the outside.

  “Whose men are they Jack?”

  “Sir, we believe they are from the regular army, run by General Conzales. As far as the latest intelligence we have, it seems that Hernandez’s son has taken over the drug trade and is responsible for the large assembly of troops here.”

  Jack drags his finger
over the touch screen, causing the view to change to the old farm house, where Marcos and his men are.

  “They have tanks!” Abraham is shocked to see five tanks and a multiple number of jeeps and other armored personnel carriers. Red triangles flash over each vehicle, indicating a heat signature, meaning that the vehicle is running or was running a short time ago.

  “What are they up to Jack?”

  “Sir, from the intelligence we have been able to gather, it seems that Marcos is intent on taking over the country and becoming President.”

  “A drug dealer and women trafficker as President? That will be a disaster for Columbia and us.”

  Abraham steps back from the monitor, then reaches out to a water pitcher and glass on the table and pours himself a glass of water. After taking a few sips he continues. “Jack, when are they planning to invade the capital?”

  “Sir, we do not currently have that information, but from the activity of the troops and vehicles, including the attack on the airport, I guess they will be moving out within a few hours.”

  “How long do you estimate for them to reach the capital?”

  “With that amount of gear, my guess is tomorrow sometime sir.”

  “Does the local government know?”

  “We do not believe at this moment that they do Sir, and even if they do, they have very few trained men and ordinance. It will be a massacre.”

  “What are our options Jack?” Abraham starts to walk to his chair at the head of the table as he speaks. As he takes his seat, the other people in the room follow him and take their seats.

  “Sir, we do not have enough time to deploy troops to the city to help fend off an attack, and without direct authorization from the leaders of Columbia asking for help we cannot engage with missiles or bombers. There is not much we can do sir.”

  “This is bullshit Jack. We cannot just sit here doing nothing, knowing that innocent lives will be lost, and that we could have prevented it.” Abraham slams his fist on the table, frustration on his face.

  Suddenly Jack’s cell phone rings. With a shocked expression on his face, he takes the phone from his pocket. Very few people know the number of his phone. Looking at the screen to see who it is, all he reads is, “Unknown Number”.