The Prometheus Effect (28 page)

Such was the impact of their decision, if they had not, then Coffey would surely not have been alive to feel the chill of the January air as he snored loudly in the seat of his car. Through the covert monitoring of several key players within the organisation including their old boss Kyle Schultz, Bradley and Chuck had ensured that they had acted on intelligence which suggested that the fugitive Coffey had taken refuge and had been spotted on satellite imagery at Kissimmee. Fearing that a valuable resource could be lost, the agents had ensured he was in the wrong place at the right time.

Coffey was aware that despite his situation as an outlaw as uncomfortable as it was, it was perfectly tolerable as opposed to his friends ongoing problems. They were on the inside and were taking daily risks to ensure Coffey could act on any information gathered. They even secured telephone communications to England at great personal risk to themselves. They were driven individuals and true patriots.

Roger Coffey awoke at first light, the red sunlight tore into the car and ended any chance of an extended slumber. He slept when he could, never knowing when he would have to move on. He had faith in his friends to warn him if there was cause to but he knew very well that they could be discovered at any time, time that was fleeting. Despite his relaxed demeanour with his English acquaintance, there was little time afforded to push on with his quest.

Meeting place number 3 was a small lay-by off the beaten track and without the unwanted gaze of nearby CCTV cameras. Coffey found it difficult to fill his day when he knew he had a meet up later that afternoon. He had the radio for company for what it was worth but he grew frustrated with the endless propaganda. It crazed him that the public were buying the lies, it enraged him and encouraged him even more to do his duty to expose the myth.

By 2pm, the air was warm and a glorious rosy sun hung low in the sky. Coffey waited patiently in the agreed place for the familiar black GMC pickup that Bradley drove and was heartily relieved when the dust from the horizon proved to be kicked up into the air by the wheels of his friends truck.

Bradley was of average height, blonde and balding on top. He spoke well, a Harvard educated man, he was a formidable ally. Chuck was a smaller, squat individual with a nervous laugh. His jet black mop covered a rounded face and bushy eyebrows. They had proved themselves to be technically brilliant and thorough in everything they did. Coffey spent little time in small talk before reminding them both to be careful. He genuinely feared for them knowing the calibre of the opponents they fought to expose.

“
Your beard is growing well!” Bradley exclaimed as it seemed to get more pronounced every day.

“
Sure is, when I look in the rear view mirror I keep reaching for my gun. Can't recognise my own God damn face any more.”

“
We have some pretty exciting news.” Chuck said as he leaned against the pickup truck attempting to look casual.

“
OK, let's hear it.”

“
Well you know we've been looking in to the top brass at NASA to see if we could dig up some dirt. Turns out that when you look a little further down the chain, and I mean to the hardware and software engineers connected with the project...”

Chuck was still trying to play it cool but a small amount of white spittle was collecting at the corner of his mouth as he relished the release of his revelations. Bradley took the opportunity to butt in during a brief hiatus when Chuck took a deep breath.

“
Roger, it turns out that you're not the only one who has disappeared since the red dawn. We've already uncovered two engineers who have recently had unfortunate accidents and a software developer who tragically appeared to take his own life last Tuesday. Seems that suicide is a trend that's catching on at Kennedy these days. Four further employee's were also reported as missing persons or failed their Censure, which you and I know means they are six feet under right now.”

Coffey nodded thoughtfully.

“
Seems like the guys at the top are tying the loose ends whilst the confusion reigns. I wonder if the remaining project workers know that they are on the hit list?”

“
Bingo!” Chuck blurted out impatient to reveal more.

“
That's the good part. We've been trying to trace the remaining staff who had the Prometheus project on their records. There aren’t a whole bunch of them left. By the way, the Prometheus project isn’t mentioned anywhere by name but we've worked out through a process of elimination who was working on which dates which apply to the project correlating that with the missing or deceased individuals...”

Coffey nodded impatiently.

“
As it happens, it turns out that one Mister Gino Marchegiani, a forty one year old engineer and resident of Orlando has gone AWOL and has turned up on the FBI's Most Wanted list and his details have been distributed through Interpol. Boy he must have done something real bad to be joining those bad boys!”

“
He knows something.” Coffey added summing it all up succinctly.

“
All very useful but if the might of the CIA and the FBI can't find this guy, there isn't much hope for us.” Coffey viewed the news with a half empty cup. Bradley smirked at Coffey in a knowing, smug way and Coffey laughed as he realised there was yet more to the tale.

“
The reason why they don't have this guy is simple...he's CIA.”

“
This is starting to get complicated now.” Coffey sighed. Bradley continued to enlighten the tired astronaut.

“
Marchegiani is an undercover agent who was deployed at NASA in a totally unrelated investigation. He was schooled at MIT and majored in Physics before going on to do a PHD in Astrophysics. He never finished his doctorate, the CIA got their claws into him early. I pulled his record, it turns out that he was due to be withdrawn because he excelled so damn well while at Kennedy, he just got drafted on to another more complex project. Looks like whoever employed him didn’t do their homework on him or just got unlucky. Your about to pull the biggest con job in the history of the world and you employ an undercover agent to help build your Doomsday device. Not very smart. I thought all you NASA guys were smart?”

“
Nah.” Coffey replied trying to comprehend the news.

“
If he got wind of the deal why didn’t he expose the plot before the launch. He had plenty of time?”

“
Don't know. Maybe his exposure would have hurt people on the inside, maybe he was just slow on the uptake....who knows. Thing is, he's out there and like you my friend, he's a walking time bomb to the government's ambitions. I guess maybe they don't see you as being so volatile and capable of exposing the truth? After all, you have no categorical proof that the red skies were related to the Prometheus satellite. This guy helped build the fucking thing.” Bradley was passionate and his voice full of emotion. Coffey stared at the dusty ground and kicked a decay clump of leaves.

“
Find him. Get him to me. We can piece it together and then find a way of getting it out there credibly.”

Coffey was excited but not optimistic in his request. Both Bradley and Chuck stifled a nervous laugh at his request.

“
Well, you know the whole world is after this guy. I do have a lead though, one that might be kind of useful.” Bradley had a sly grin and Coffey could tell he had been patiently waiting to deliver the coup de gras.

“
Marchegiani's real name is Adam Letterman. Well let's just say that I knew an Adam Letterman a long time ago, I met him on a residential training course. The only reason I remember the guy's name is because on a night out he introduced me to his sister...”

“
Who you dated no doubt?” Coffey smiled at his charming colleague.

“
Indeed.” Bradley quipped with a broad grin on his face.

“
So what happened?” Coffey inquired.

“
Oh, the usual. Two months of crazy sex and then the arguments over the toilet seat, the TV remote and the like.”

“
So she'll remember you then?” Coffey asked hopefully.

“
God I hope not.” Bradley laughed.

“
Just so happened though that she lived just outside of Jacksonville. She was a homely girl, not the sort to move around. Probably still there with any luck.”

“
And you think she might know where her brother is? That's a long shot.”

“
Long yes, but beggars can't be choosers.”

Bradley was right, it was a slim lead but a good one. It stood to reason that the government agencies would already have spoken to her or maybe even taken her in but it was worth the risk of exposing himself in order to have a fighting chance of discovering the whereabouts of this man.

“
Can you put me in touch with her?” Coffey asked as Chuck pulled out a scrap of paper.

“
Cell phone, land line, address, email, bra size...it's all there.”

Coffey raised his eyebrows at his friends efficiency.

“
Probably better for you to get in touch with her, If she's in contact with her brother she's not going to trust a CIA agent asking questions let alone an ex boyfriend who refused to mow the lawn on demand.”

Coffey slapped Bradley across the shoulder.

“
Damn, you're a heart breaker.”

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

The Messenger, Fleet Street

January 3
^rd
2021

Joshua was in the office early that morning. He wanted to beat the rush of disheartened employees banging their desks in frustration as they realised their vocation was being radically altered by Jameson and his cronies. Although he did not have an appointment, he wanted to consult with Mr Fernandes on an urgent matter. A meeting with Fernandes was not something which ordinarily one would yearn but this morning, Joshua would be quite insistent to see his employer face to face.

Waiting nervously in the reception area to his chamber, he greeted Miss Penny, Fernandes' friendly assistant as she walked in clutching a handbag and a nicely decorated paper bag full of what could only be her boutique sandwiches.

“
Oh, hello. What are you up to?” she asked nervously.

“
I need to see Mr Fernandes first thing. As soon as he gets in.”

Miss Penny's mouth puckered as she realised the intensity of the fidgeting Joshua's request.

“
Not something serious I hope?” She asked politely.

“
Well, yes it is. I need to see him before Jameson's lot get in.”

“
Oh I see. OK, well you can wait there but you know what Mr Fernandes is like.”

Indeed he did.

The large, opulent gilded clock struck eight thirty and almost to the second, Fernandes shuffled in clutching a grand leather briefcase and a long black coat over his arm. He stopped to look down at Joshua who was obviously anxious about something. He did not speak as expected but merely walked towards his office and waved a beckoning finger.

Joshua stood and followed him inside the magnificent office where his boss silently pointed towards a large leather chair.

“
Thanks for seeing me Mr Fernandes.” Joshua spluttered as he perched on the edge of the seat. Fernandes flopped down behind his vast dark wood desk and leaned back, his hands flat on the table.

“
Spit it out then.” Fernandes bellowed. Joshua took a deep breath, he was not sure how to proceed.

“
Sir, as I know you are quite aware, the whole dynamic of the office has changed. If I may be so bold, the new measures will destroy this newspaper and everything it stands for.”

Fernandes leaned forward interrupting.

“
Going to jump ship are you? You'll not find anything better anywhere else and that's a fact. All the same it is, the whole street are facing the same problem. Get over it, you'll have to or you'll get your marching orders.”