Chapter Forty-nine
Uetendorf, Switzerland
Sunday, October 14, 1500 Hours
The witnesses standing at the edge of the field were staring in horrified silence, too stunned to speak. The scene that lay before them was grotesque, a primeval nightmare dredged up from some deep, dark depths of primitive man’s collective unconscious. Each witness had a different reaction. One fainted. A second one vomited. A woman was shaking uncontrollably. Another one thought: I’m going to have a heart attack! The elderly priest clutched his beads and crossed himself. Help me, Father. Help us all. Protect us against this evil incarnate. We have finally seen the face of Satan. It is the end of the world. Judgment Day has come.
Armageddon is here … Armageddon … Armageddon …
Sunday, October 14, 2100 Hours
FLASH MESSAGE
TOP SECRET ULTRA
NSA TO DEPUTY DIRECTOR COMSEC
EYES ONLY
SUBJECT: OPERATION DOOMSDAY
MESSAGE: ACTIVATE
NOTIFY NORAD, CIRVIS, GEPAN, DIS, GHG, VSAF, INS.
END OF MESSAGE
Sunday, October 14, 2115 Hours
FLASH MESSAGE
TOP SECRET ULTRA
NSA TO DEPUTY DIRECTOR—
NAVAL INTELLIGENCE 17TH DISTRICT
EYES ONLY
SUBJECT: COMMANDER ROBERT BELLAMY
ARRANGE TEMPORARY TRANSFER THIS AGENCY, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.
YOUR CONCURRENCE IN THE ABOVE IS ASSUMED.
END OF MESSAGE
DAY ONE
Monday, October 15
He was back in the crowded hospital ward at Cu Chi Base in Vietnam and Susan was leaning over his bed, lovely in her crisp white nurse’s uniform, whispering, “Wake up, sailor. You don’t want to die.”
And when he heard the magic of her voice, he could almost forget his pain. She was murmuring something else in his ear, but a loud bell was ringing, and he could not hear her clearly. He reached up to pull her closer, and his hands clutched empty air.
It was the sound of the telephone that fully awoke Robert Bellamy. He opened his eyes reluctantly, not wanting to let go of the dream. The telephone at his bedside was insistent. He looked at the clock. Four A.M. He snatched up the instrument, angry at having his dream interrupted. “Do you know what the hell time it is?”
“Commander Bellamy?” A deep, male voice.
“Yes—”
“I have a message for you, Commander. You are ordered to report to General Hilliard at National Security Agency headquarters at Fort Meade at oh six hundred this morning. Is the message understood, Commander?”
“Yes.” And no. Mostly no.
Commander Robert Bellamy slowly replaced the receiver, puzzled. What the devil could the NSA want with him? He was assigned to ONI, the Office of Naval Intelligence. And what could be urgent enough to call for a meeting at six o’clock in the morning? He lay down again and closed his eyes, trying to recapture the dream. It had been so real. He knew, of course, what had triggered it. Susan had telephoned the evening before.
“Robert …”
The sound of her voice did to him what it always did. He took a shaky breath. “Hello, Susan.”
“Are you all right, Robert?”
“Sure. Fantastic. How’s Moneybags?”
“Please, don’t.”
“All right. How’s Monte Banks?”
He could not bring himself to say “your husband.” He was her husband.
“He’s fine. I just wanted to tell you that we’re going to be away for a little while. I didn’t want you to worry.”
That was so like her, so Susan. He fought to keep his voice steady. “Where are you going this time?”
“We’re flying to Brazil.”
On Moneybags’s private 727.
“Monte has some business interests there.”
“Really? I thought he owned the country.”
“Stop it, Robert. Please.”
“Sorry.”
There
