‘So we were right about Jacobs using the Bilderberg Group as a recruitment centre,’ Stephenfield said.
‘It certainly seems so,’ Adams agreed. ‘But we still don’t know what for, exactly.’
‘But we can certainly hazard a guess, from what you’ve told us,’ Stephenfield replied.
Lynn nodded her head, the scientist in her processing the information quickly. ‘It would appear,’ she began, ‘that there was some sort of alien contact back in the late nineteen forties, which enabled communications to be opened up between us. It is also clear that Jacobs and at least some element of the Bilderberg Group are creating a device that will enable this group to come to earth, presumably en masse. The talk of genocide is disturbing to say the least, and an agreement has probably been reached whereby Jacobs and his cohorts will be spared for assisting them. And perhaps this is what Jacobs is recruiting for — the group of people who will be allowed to survive. This could explain why some people felt it was morally abhorrent and refused to be any part of it, and why these same people then met a mysterious end soon after, before they could tell anyone else.’
Ayita nodded his head. ‘It would certainly make some sort of sick sense,’ he agreed.
‘I’m worried about the timetable,’ Stephenfield said. ‘You say Lowell mentioned Jacobs’ “secret little project in Europe” becoming operational next week, which presumably somehow ties in with how this unknown group are coming to earth. We also have to factor in how the Director of the Secret Service and thirty-one other agents have been slaughtered by Jacobs’ men, and he didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.’
‘The crash with the oil tanker was reported as an accident, and the fireball that resulted probably won’t give much in the way of evidence,’ Ayita responded, having been monitoring the events from Tucson.
‘But there will be evidence, undoubtedly; it will just take time to uncover. And Jacobs’ attitude indicates his belief that such an investigation will be of no consequence by then. Which means, by extension, that the full force of the president and the United States government will not worry him at all in about a week’s time.’
Ayita nodded his head, considering the matter. ‘Yes, it does look like we’re running out of time,’ he agreed. ‘It looks like next week is crunch time.’
‘But what I still don’t get,’ Adams interjected, ‘is where the body Lynn’s team discovered comes into all of this. I mean, it seems alien contact wasn’t made until nineteen forty-seven and yet the body she found — and which Jacobs and the Bilderberg Group are prepared to kill for, and which might even be of alien origin itself — is forty thousand years old. So what’s the connection?’
Lynn stared ahead, deep in thought. ‘I just don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘It still doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Well, I might just have some good news for you,’ Ayita said, smiling for the first time since the debriefing began. ‘DNA Analytics will have your results ready to pick up this afternoon.’ He watched Adams’ and Lynn’s eyes go wide with excited anticipation. ‘They said to be there after three.’
DNA Analytics was its usual bustling self when Adams and Lynn entered through the electronic double doors.
Even though they were both believed dead, they still wore dark glasses, their hair was dyed and they wore bulky clothes to disguise their physical profiles. At this late stage, there was no use in taking chances.
Adams hung back to keep an eye on things as Lynn walked up to the reception desk.
The blonde receptionist, who sported the name tag ‘Angela’, gave her a warm, if not exactly genuine, smile. ‘Good afternoon, welcome to DNA Analytics Phoenix, how can we help you today?’
‘I’ve come to pick up some test results,’ Lynn said. ‘Name of Gower, Lucy Gower.’
Angela turned to her computer, her long, false nails clacking away at the keyboard. ‘Ah, yes, here you are,’ she said. ‘Dr Connor will take you through the results. You can find him in Room Sixteen, second floor,’ she continued, pointing down a long corridor to the east of the main reception. ‘Down the corridor, take a left and there are the elevators. When you get out, turn right and it’s the second room on the left. OK?’
Lynn wondered just how large this place was, and how many people got lost here. ‘Thanks,’ she said simply, and turned round, nodding to Adams to follow her.
Five minutes later, they were outside the office of Dr Connor.
The second floor was in sharp contrast to the first. Whereas the entire first floor seemed to be a frenzied melee of people all rushing about, the second floor was almost deserted.
Adams’ survival instinct was instantly aroused by the change of pace, wondering why they should have had to go to such a different area to collect their results. If going to see the doctor was standard procedure, then surely this corridor should also be swarming with people?
He felt for the Glock 17 semi-automatic pistol cinched into his waistband, feeling its reassuring weight resting there. He looked up and down the corridor, and saw two men rounding the corner at the end, deep in discussion. There were three closed-circuit television cameras, but none of them seemed to be interested in either him or Lynn.
He heard the elevator bing as it brought others to the second floor, and Adams let his hand rest over the butt of his pistol as he waited for the doors to open.
They opened, and another couple came out into the corridor. Adams watched them as they turned left, checked the name panel on a door further down the corridor, and then knocked. A smart young doctor opened the door and welcomed them in.
‘Are you finished?’ Lynn asked, frowning at him. ‘I think it’s all above board.’
Adams smiled sheepishly. ‘I’m finished,’ he said, and reached forward to knock on the door.
It opened moments later, an older yet equally smart doctor standing there with a friendly smile. ‘You must be Ms Gower,’ he said, extending his hand.
Lynn shook it. ‘A pleasure, Dr Connor,’ she said in return. ‘This is my friend, James Davies.’
‘Mr Davies,’ the doctor said, shaking Adams’ hand. ‘Please, come in.’
He led them into a small but plush office, expensively furnished and clinically clean. He showed them to two leather armchairs on the other side of his designer glass desk, and then took his own seat, looking down at the papers gathered in front of him.
He looked up suddenly through his half-moon glasses. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve not offered you a drink,’ he said apologetically. ‘Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee?’
‘No thank you,’ Lynn said for both of them. ‘We’re anxious to get the results of the tests.’
Connor smiled at them. ‘Of course.’ He tapped the papers on his desk. ‘The results. Most interesting. Most interesting.’
Lynn and Adams looked at Connor expectantly.
‘Ms Gower, Mr Davies,’ Connor began, staring once again through his spectacles, ‘I am the senior consultant here in Phoenix. Upon initial examination, your samples were referred to me for validation. Do you mind if I ask you where they came from?’
‘We can’t answer that, I’m afraid, Dr Connor.’
He nodded, and looked back down to the test results. ‘OK,’ he began. ‘Here we go.’
13
Tony Kern left the president’s office and immediately dialled Jacobs’ number.