The Genesis Plague (2010)

the souls didn’t rest. It was the first time he’d come to terms with the idea that true evil - a malevolent force - had been trapped beneath that mountain.
    Not just evil: a weapon .
    This subterranean mass grave was even more shocking than the excavated pits unearthed in Iraq’s southern deserts. Stokes had no doubt that the marines, and particularly the Kurdish interpreter who Crawford had said was assisting the mercenaries, would attribute the atrocity to Saddam’s secret police. But they’d be sadly mistaken.
    On another panel, Stokes honed in on the distraught Arabs, slowly making their way deeper into the tunnel and still determined to find a way out. He shook his head in amusement.
    The Arabs were very close to the cave’s most secret chamber now. Too close. And Stokes was concerned that if they were to stumble upon the installation that was the heart of the operation, they might try to destroy his precious handiwork.
    ‘It is time,’ a voice suddenly called out to him.
    Startled, Stokes sat bolt upright and scanned the room.
    ‘Let loose the fury,’ the voice calmly commanded.
    ‘Yes …’ Stokes said, still hoping the Lord would reveal His countenance. The voice was all around him. It even seemed to permeate his skull. How would God eventually manifest Himself? ‘I understand.’
    Composing himself, Stokes brought up a new window on his monitor to access the cave’s command interface module.
    ‘Let loose the fury,’ he said to himself.
    He stared at the seven icons blinking ‘SEALED’. It was time to slay the Hydra. Time to eliminate the Middle East threat. For too long, humankind had interfered with the natural order of things. The balance God intended needed to be restored - the checks and balances that truly determined history’s winners and losers.
    With trembling fingers, he clicked each icon in turn, and the flashing indicators flipped from red to green; ‘SEALED’ now changed to read ‘OPEN’. When the password box came up to confirm the changes, he paused.
    Finally the appointed hour had arrived. The culmination of years of research and sweat. After taking a few seconds to savour the moment, he whispered, ‘When the lamb had opened the first of the seven seals, I heard the first of the four beasts say with a thundering voice, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo a white horse; and he that sat on him had a bow: and there was given unto him a crown, and he departed as conqueror and to conquest.’
    Pastor Randall Stokes slowly typed in the password - A-R-M-A-G-E-D-D-O-N - then entered it again to authorize the command.

36
BOSTON
    The black GMC Yukon zipped through the Callahan Tunnel, making Brooke Thompson’s pulse accelerate. Her mind was flashing a fireworks display of images from the earlier car chase. Tunnels had never bothered her before. But they did now. She imagined the SUV careering into the tight walls - envisioned a ceiling collapse that brought the harbour flooding in around her. Crossing her arms over her stomach and squeezing tight, she glanced over at Flaherty, seated to her left in the rear passenger seat. He was staring through the SUV’s bulletproof glass, entranced by the streaming lights high up on the tunnel wall.
    Agent Flaherty had enough on his mind to ignore irrational fears, Brooke thought. In fact, it had to be rational fears that plagued his thoughts. Prior to leaving the office, he’d spent twenty minutes in a closed-door session with his firecracker of a boss. He’d been highly contemplative ever since.
    Feeling her anxiety ballooning into panic, Brooke couldn’t help but reach over and grab his right hand. He turned, unsure of her intention, but quickly realized by her clammy complexion that she needed some consoling. ‘Sorry, but I’m kind of freaking out,’ she said, her fingers clamping tight around his palm.
    ‘It’s all right,’ he said with a reassuring smile. ‘I’m feeling it too. Don’t know if I’ll ever look at a tunnel the same way again either.’ He placed his other hand on top of hers.
    She nodded and released a long breath to calm her nerves. Focusing on the back of the driver’s huge, shaved head somehow calmed her. The guy was like a caricature - a mountain of muscle. Even his ears seemed pumped up. The handgun strapped under the man’s arm, however, implied that his duties involved more than simply playing chauffeur.
    ‘I still don’t think you should be coming with me,’ Flaherty said. ‘I can’t