Counterpoint (26 page)

“Someone then picked up the rope, off
the road, and all evidence was gone.” Sam paused for this to sink
in, both girls were silent and totally in control of their
emotions, tears could follow when all questions were answered.

Sam had anticipated tears and emotional
breakdown at this point; nothing happened.

A slight sadistic pleasure went through
Sam as he mentally rephrased his next statement for full effect. As
the girls were about to ask the question that burned in their
minds, he said, “Philippe is your father.”

“No! No!” Screamed Carla in denial, as
she leapt up and moved menacingly, towards Sam.

“Christ!” He thought and moved aside.
Her face was white with rage; her jaw set firmly and teeth clenched
together. Her eyes screwed up and burned like sapphire lasers as
she slowly advanced, fists clenched, to where Sam had stood. It was
as though Philippe was standing there, in front of her. She paused
for a few seconds while she dealt with the bombshell. Hate and
revenge, passed through her lightning quick brain, in an instant,
and then she composed herself. She apologised to Sam and ran to a
sobbing Amy.

Max looked at Sam. Both knew Sam had
handled the last part badly. Max knew Sam was a master manipulator,
so why be so sadistic?

Sam knew then, he had lost Max’s
respect, and this might make the next assignment difficult.

He waited for the girls to calm down
and handed a thick dossier to them.

“This contains every original letter
and document we have on the matter, as well as copies of others,
from third parties. There are some videotapes of interviews, and
those at the time of the Duke’s death. They are relevant because in
our opinion, they show the Duke’s realisation that Philippe was
Lana’s lover, and Philippe’s realisation that Carla is his
daughter.

Very harrowing I know, but you would
want nothing less than everything we have, I’m sure.” After a
pause, Sam said, “Perhaps we can have tea at this stage; Amy can
then wait here while I see you both in my office. We have business
to discuss.”

Down in the office, and without
preamble, Sam explained the latest developments in Egypt.

“The autopsy on Peter Gibson revealed
he died from a viral infection, a strain they could not identify.
It affects the gut, brain, and liver and results in death. It
spreads by contact with the skin.

Coincidentally, we have found the same
strain of virus on the surface of the skin of the mummy. We think
this is how Peter contracted it, and indicates the time from
infection to death is within 2 days.

We also believe that Nahep died from
the disease and that it results in the hardening of the skin and
internal organs by affecting collagen in some way.

Examination of some of the jars you
recovered from the tomb is tremendously exciting because Nahep
experimented with all sorts of plant and chemical compounds. Some
we have looked at appear to have bacteriostatic properties, as
revolutionary now as penicillin was in its day. Some proteins in
one compound interact with the oxygen uptake of cells, suggesting
tailoring as magic bullets, for many cancers, by effectively
suffocating them.

Overall, it is a fantastic result for
The Organisation and humankind. Obviously it will be many years
before any of this is marketable, drug trials take a long time, but
it is as good as money in the bank for us. We have the invention;
so to speak, we just have to find uses for it. I trust you realise,
if the tomb had been handed over to the authorities, these
humanitarian discoveries would have remained lost to the world in
some dusty museum, somewhere.

Now on to business!

I have a new project for you, far less
hazardous than the last one. I would like you to join a survey team
searching for mineral deposits in Africa. First, you and Carla will
need to go on an intensive training course in geology, and then go
out with new members of the team. We need you to keep an eye on our
interests.”

On the face of it, Max thought it would
be interesting, and said he would like to know more, before saying
yes.

Sam smiled; to him the answer was a
foregone conclusion.

“Just one other thing, can you and
Carla return to Egypt immediately, and visit the laboratory we set
up inside the C.N.W.D. Corporation, we need to check you were not
infected in any way. You cannot be tested anywhere else, obviously;
they are the only team on the planet who know what to look
for.”

“Here is your brief for the next
mission and tickets!” Said Sam.

It was late evening; the two men were
so deep in conversation, that the glorious sunset over the
picturesque bay at Cala Salida went unnoticed.

Robert Darrow and his family had moved
to their luxury Spanish style house, almost a year ago. It nestled
low down on the steep hillside, on the North East coast of Ibiza;
this was one of the most desired locations in the area, overlooking
this idyllic cove.

Robert paused in conversation to kiss
and cuddle his dark haired, bright eyed, three year old daughter,
goodnight. He adored her. His life was devoted to his wife and
child.

Soon Darow would be regarded as the
most wilfully evil man, to have ever lived on the planet!

The other man, Scott Fleming was just a
visitor, invited by Robert Darrow, to spend a few days at his
home.

Some twenty years ago, Scott Fleming
was considered a brilliant scientist until he warned the world
about Global Warming. Failing to realise he was before his time,
his persistent and unwelcome prediction lead to banishment, into a
scientific wilderness. Since then he made a living as a science
lecturer, at a College in the UK.

The two men had just met by chance.
Darrow accidentally damaged Fleming’s hire car, and suggested Scott
stay at his home while repairs were made. They got on well and
became friends.

Soon Fleming would be regarded as the
most stupid man on the planet!

Their conversation had reached the
point where Fleming asked Darrow what he did for a living. Darrow
explained he controlled the disposal of Chemical and Nuclear Waste;
he managed the C.N.W.D. Corporation based in Egypt, with clients
all over the world.

“You must have a hard time disposing of
that type of material, these days,” suggested Fleming.

“Actually we don’t, except for the
extremely dangerous stuff, and all we can do then, is contain
it.

We have a vast depository out in the
desert in Egypt. Some materials we destroy by extreme heat. Those
we treat at the Solar Intensification Plant or SIP, a massive array
of mirrors that focus the sun’s rays to a small point. Others we
encapsulate in a form of glass produced from the local sand melted
by the SIP. I admit the pressure is on us, to carry out the process
quickly and cheaply, but we are making progress.”

Fleming had hoped Darrow was just plain
wealthy, so being just a lecturer would not make him feel so
ashamed about his scientific downfall. Darrow had not pricked, but
stabbed Fleming’s pride as an environmentalist, foolishly, Fleming,
somewhat drunk, could not hold back.

“So what are you going to do when the
site is full?”

Darrow paused just a moment; he had
repeatedly asked himself the same question. In five years’ time, he
would need an answer. “Well,” he replied authoritatively. “That
will take at least five years, and we will have the answer, then I
am sure.”

“I don’t think so,” Fleming replied.
“As a scientist specialising in the environment, I know you
won’t.”

Darrow was stunned; he never expected
to be shot down like that by a stranger. He was always well
briefed, when he had to speak to the environmentalists. Here he was
face to face with a self-acclaimed expert, one he had never met
before. Now he came to think about it, Scott Fleming was a name he
had come across, but for the moment, he couldn’t quite make the
connection.

Darrow smiled; the best way to shut up
an environmentalist was to get them to solve the problem.

“So what would you advise, Scott?”

Fleming cursed his big mouth and wished
he had not drunk so much wine. He might then have had the wisdom to
deflect the question or at least limit his rampant arrogance.

“Quite simple really,” he expounded. “I
would pop it into the centre of the earth.”

Robert Darrow was again taken by
surprise. The answer was given with such conviction, and without a
moment’s hesitation, surely, this man must have fully considered
the problem or else he was utterly insane. Unsure which, expert or
fool, Darrow asked.

“Why there, and how might that be
achieved?”

Again Fleming replied without
hesitation. What the hell Fleming thought, this is only a bit of
fun, we will soon move on to another topic.

“I would drop it into an active
Volcano, say Soufriere Hills Volcano, Plymouth Island in the
Caribbean Sea because the area is now uninhabited. The exceedingly
high temperatures will melt nuclear material effectively diluting
the mass and vaporise the chemicals. No living matter will ever get
near enough to become contaminated, unlike dumping it in the ocean.
Nuclear waste will become a molten drop in the ocean of the earth’s
core for all time.”

“Supposing the volcano spews out the
waste.” Darrow countered, positively intrigued?

“
It will have been so
mixed up in the magma by then; it will present no measurable
increase in the background radiation. The problem with waste is
when it leaks into the environment or as an explosion, like
Chernobyl, the particles are at full strength. A grain of atomic
dust, for example, consists of billions of charged particles. If
the particle was melted and mixed into a vast amount of harmless
material, then it becomes just 1 harmful atom in many billions of
harmless atoms. Your average background radiation,
situation.”

Darrow remained silent as he considered
the information. Fleming thought, me and my big mouth, I hope he
doesn’t believe all this bollocks. He asked for another top up of
wine and changed the subject to the beauty of the dying sunset.

Having finalised arrangements with Sam,
to leave two days later for Cairo, they left the office and
collected Amy.

On the way home, Max explained to Amy
they had to go away for a several months, so they would put her
into a hotel, all paid for by them of course.

She would have none of it. She demanded
they settle with Philippe first, so she would be safe.

Carla explained there would be no time
to set everything up before they left so it would have to wait.

Amy replied threateningly, she would go
to the police and tell them everything she knew about them,
Philippe and The Organisation. Carla and Max knew she would, too,
but she would also sign her own death warrant and Carla could not
allow that.

“Ok then come with us for a few days
and keep out of the way. We could take the statuette with us and
hand it to Philippe in Cairo. It is as good a place as any.”

Everyone was relieved at the solution,
and no more was said.

Max phoned, from the car, to add Amy to
their travel arrangements.

Amy phoned at the same time and told
Geoff she would be away for several days. She was delighted when he
said he was on his way to see her as arranged, and had booked in at
the best hotel in the area.

Back at the hideaway, everyone was soon
busy packing. Amy was constantly consulting Carla about what she
should take and what to wear when she met Geoff. Max suggested she
pack an overnight bag with clothes for dinner and the next morning.
It was obvious she was hoping to have a good time, and make a night
of it with Geoff. She could not bring him here so she would need to
be prepared to stay at his hotel. She looked embarrassed at Max’s
succinct assessment of the forthcoming events.

Being young, she still wanted to play
it cool, she knew Max was right though; men are always interested
in one thing, sex, even if they genuinely love the girl. Still, it
would be nice to meet a man who did not think that way, and then be
taken back to his room for a good, passionate, no holds barred
all-nighter!

To keep her meeting for lunch light and
informal, she borrowed Carla’s denim outfit. The younger, wealthy
set that ate there would be dressed in a similar fashion, so she
would look the part

She was not disappointed, and neither
was Geoff. In his rulebook, there was no reason not to enjoy his
work and this girl had more class than he first thought. The lunch
went well, both of them were relaxed, and the conversation flowed
easily.

Geoff constantly led the conversation
back to where she was staying, and where she was going. Amy had not
lost her head, and revealed nothing.

For her part, she pried into his life
and got more than Geoff had intended. Geoff knew she was no bimbo
and getting her into his bed with declarations of undying love,
would not impress her. He had to get to her, emotionally. He had no
idea what had been revealed to her earlier that day, so he was a
bit taken aback at her emotional breakdown in his room, after
dinner. From what he had overheard on the yacht, it had to be her
newly discovered relationship with Carla. Under different
circumstances, Amy would have shared her feelings with Carla;
however, the timing was wrong, so it all came out, with him.

She told him, she had just met her
twin, having never known of her existence, and then discovered a
woman she met briefly was actually her mother, who had been
murdered by her father. She had come face-to-face with a terrible
man she had never met before, and he threatened to kill her if she
did not hand over the gold and diamond encrusted figure, Carla
possessed. It turns out this terrible man was her father.