Immortal

65

Donald Wolfe lifted his bottle of water, watching as the hundred-strong audience did the same. Just as the liquid touched his lips, the ceremonial entrance smashed open with a crack that echoed through the hall as hundreds of presidents, prime ministers and their staff turned away from their glasses at the noise.

Doug Jarvis burst into the hall, shrieking at the top of his lungs. ‘Don’t drink the water!’

Donald Wolfe stared wide-eyed at Jarvis, who staggered unsteadily into the chamber, his head wrapped in a bloodied bandage and two security guards flanking him.

‘What the hell is this?’ he uttered, the microphone amplifying his voice.

Jarvis shouted as loud as he could in the hall.

‘The water is infected!’

A rush of horrified gasps echoed through the hall as dignitaries put the glasses down as though they were filled with venom. Jarvis pointed up at Donald Wolfe.

‘He’s organized a pandemic, starting from this hall!’

Wolfe stammered his response even as hundreds of heads turned to look at him.

‘That’s ridiculous!’

‘He’s armed!’ Jarvis shouted, and the two security guards flanking him placed their hands on their weapons. ‘We know everything,’ Jarvis said. ‘It’s time to come clean about New Mexico and Alaska, Donald.’

Wolfe felt a tingling sensation creep uncomfortably down his spine as he felt the eyes of the entire amphitheater watching him.

‘What in the name of God are you talking about?’

‘The death of Tyler Willis,’ Jarvis replied with an impassive expression. ‘The abduction of Lillian Cruz. The men you have dispatched to New Mexico to assist Jeb Oppenheimer of SkinGen Corp in abducting men for biological experiments into longevity, and the murder of a scientist in Brevig Mission, Alaska.’

Wolfe opened his mouth to reply but Jarvis cut across him, turning to look up at the surrounding world leaders.

‘Whatever you do, do not drink the water in your glasses. It’s infected with a strain of 1918 Spanish Flu, obtained by Donald Wolfe from a mass grave in Alaska and brought here to New York.’

A rush of gasps crashed across the delegation.

‘That’s preposterous!’ Wolfe snapped in alarm. ‘Why on earth would I do something like that?’

‘In the next half-hour, more people could die,’ Jarvis shot back at him. ‘We have tracked your movements ever since you left SkinGen in Santa Fe two days ago, and the FBI are already at Fort Detrick and searching your office.’

Wolfe flustered behind the dais, looking this way and that for an escape.

‘SkinGen is a private corporation! I have no connection with them and the FBI can’t just walk in and—’

‘Yes they can,’ Jarvis replied. ‘Jeb Oppenheimer is on the run, Donald. It’s over. Your little scheme to reduce the world’s population through disease is finished, and your partner in crime is wanted for the murder of Tyler Willis. This is your chance to ensure that more innocent people don’t die. Tell us exactly where your men are and what they’re doing, before this becomes a multiple homicide investigation.’

Wolfe gaped at Jarvis and tried to force his brain to feed words to his unwilling vocal cords. ‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m in the middle of an address and you’re—’

‘The hell with your address,’ Jarvis shot back. ‘I’ve had men watching you for forty-eight hours. You dispatched over one hundred mercenaries into New Mexico yesterday under cover of a training mission to kill American citizens!’

More gasps filled the auditorium as Wolfe felt dread plunge through him. His throat dried out as he struggled to speak.

‘This is preposterous!’ he shouted, and turned to the secretary-general. ‘I demand that this man be removed from the chamber!’

The secretary-general glanced at Jarvis and then at Wolfe.

‘Denied. Explain yourself.’

Wolfe was about to speak but Jarvis cut across him again.

‘You sent biological clean-up teams into Santa Fe to investigate claims that you made of infected blood or agents being spilled in precise locations within the city,’ he said. ‘We have this on record as your own agenda for sending the teams in the first place. However, we also know that only two people knew that there was infected blood in those locations, and both of them are involved in the murders. My problem, Mister Wolfe, is that unless you’d been informed by those individuals of the presence of infected blood, you could not have known that it was present at the scene.’

A silence descended over the auditorium. Wolfe felt the weight of the world’s political machine bearing down upon him. Jarvis took another step closer to the dais.

‘In addition, you flew from Santa Fe to New York City yesterday, to attend a function last night and this United Nations meeting. However, your flight took some eight hours longer than it should have done. I have proof that you traveled to Brevig Mission in Alaska, and that since your arrival there a scientist working on the glacier has been found buried in the grave of a victim of Spanish Flu.’ A flurry of horrified whispers filled the hall as Jarvis went on. ‘Tissue samples from the infected corpse were found in the laboratories of SkinGen Corp just moments ago, sir. Can you explain how you came to acquire them while in Alaska, or how they ended up in the hands of Jeb Oppenheimer?’

Donald Wolfe tried to answer but his jaw ached as he gaped and he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Jarvis gave him no quarter, speaking before he could muster a reply.

‘You’re not here to convince the nations of this world to reduce their populations. You’re here to spread a lethal virus across the globe while trying to ensure the longevity of select groups of businessmen. You’re a eugenicist, using disease and genetics to shape the human population just how you think it should be, trying to remove those you deem to somehow be less worthy of life.’ Jarvis tapped his own forehead. ‘If I’m lying, hand your gun to these police officers and let them run tests on the blood residue that I know is on the handle. It will match mine!’

Wolfe stared with wild eyes into the middle distance, as though aware of his exposure and yet unable to bring himself to focus upon his inevitable demise. Jarvis took another couple of paces toward the dais, his voice carrying across the entire amphitheater.

‘Sir, I do not care if you are innocent, framed, incompetent or just plain guilty. Right now, all that concerns me is that if you do not inform us of where those men are, right now, several citizens of this country that you swore to protect will die. Do you understand?’

Wolfe swallowed thickly and then nodded once. As he did so, he saw one of the dignitaries watching the exchange discreetly reach into his pocket and retrieve a cell phone upon which he began typing.

‘Where are they?’ Jarvis repeated, getting Wolfe’s attention once again. ‘Where is Jeb Oppenheimer and the soldiers you sent into the desert?’

The words fell from Wolfe’s mouth as if of their own accord.

‘Near Rattlesnake Canyon, Carlsbad,’ he uttered. ‘East of the Guadalupe Mountains.’

A deep silence filled the hall as Wolfe’s guilt lay bare for all to see.

Jarvis turned and called out to the police behind him, who immediately began running for the exits with radios to their mouths. Wolfe glanced up at the dignitary with the phone, a Bilderberg member, who was looking down at him with a disapproving gaze. Wolfe realized in that moment that it was all over for him.

Jarvis turned toward him.

‘Sir, if you would accompany the police to…’

Wolfe stepped down off the dais in one fluid motion and reached down, slipping the ceremonial pistol from its holster. He barely heard the cries of alarm from the chamber around him as he cocked the weapon, scarcely saw the security guards draw their own weapons with amazing speed to point at him. Wolfe turned to face the secretary-general, saluted once with his free hand, and then put the pistol’s barrel to his head.

He saw Doug Jarvis rush toward him, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

‘Donald, no!’

A deafening blast filled the hall and Wolfe’s world vanished into blackness.