Read The Genesis Plague (2010) for Free Online Page A

phone’s intercom came to life with a small chime.
    ‘So sorry to disturb you, Randy.’
    ‘I’m busy. What is it, Vanessa?’ he replied agitatedly.
    ‘Mr Roselli is here,’ she reported in a subdued tone. ‘He’s insisting on seeing you. He doesn’t look so good … acting strange too. Should I call security?’
    ‘No. It’s fine.’ Perfect, actually. ‘Give me a minute, then send him in.’
    ‘As you wish.’
    Stokes focused again on the draft, removed profile number ‘4’ labelled ‘ROSELLI-FRANK’. Verifying the content one last time, he clicked a command that encrypted the message and pushed it out into the ether. He leaned back and stretched, considered how exactly to handle the surprise visitor. When he peered at the open door centred in the rear wall of the office, an idea came to him. A brilliant idea.
    Fifteen seconds later, the double door opened and Vanessa held it as Roselli lumbered into the room, hands stuffed in the pockets of his rumpled seersucker slacks.
    ‘I was going to run to the Post Office,’ Vanessa said. ‘Need me to stay?’
    ‘No, no. You go ahead,’ Stokes said. He stood and rounded the desk. She was right: the five-foot-eight portly project manager looked even more ruddy than usual. ‘Frank,’ he greeted him with presidential style. ‘What a surprise.’
    ‘What’s the emergency?’ Stokes asked, calmly reclining in his office chair.
    Roselli was huddled on the edge of the leather visitor’s seat, elbows propped on knees. Sweat peppered his brow below an island of sun-bleached dirty blond hair that looked like a badly replaced divot. His round cheeks and bulbous nose were pink with sunburn, three deep worry lines cut parallel tracks across his forehead, and his dull hazel eyes, set too close together, were too small for his head.
    ‘Haven’t you heard?’ he said. ‘The alarm in the cave? For God’s sake. They’ll find -‘
    Stokes raised a hand to stop him. ‘I’ve heard,’ he replied levelly.
    ‘And you’re still here ?’ He spread his hands. ‘Have you gone mad? What if they -‘
    ‘Calm down. Don’t you see? This is better than we could ever have hoped for.’
    ‘What? Are you insane?’
    ‘Now, now, Frank …’ he warned. But Roselli was inconsolable.
    ‘I told you this might happen!’ he overrode indignantly. Pointing a pudgy index finger at Stokes, he said, ‘We should’ve permanently sealed the opening.’ He shook his head with dismay. ‘Christ, we knew that hatch might draw attention.’
    ‘And how do you suppose what’s in the cave could be released without a doorway?’
    Rolling his eyes, Roselli didn’t have an answer.
    ‘Let me remind you that it was a missile , Frank. A missile that accidentally veered off course. Sorry, but we didn’t plan for that.’ Stokes got up again. ‘Let’s not have someone overhearing this conversation,’ he said conspiratorially. He waved for Roselli to follow, led the way to the open door in the rear of the office.
    Huffing, Roselli got up and went over to him, hesitated at the entry threshold to assess the keypad on the doorframe. His head tilted to calibrate the thickness of the door - five, maybe six, inches. Then he peeked inside. ‘What is this place?’
    ‘My private gallery. We can talk more freely in here.’ Stokes offered a composed smile, placed a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder and urged him inside.
    The spacious, windowless gallery housed an impressive collection of ancient artifacts in sturdy display cases - mostly Middle Eastern, as far as Roselli could tell. No surprise since Stokes was obsessed with anything remotely linked to Mesopotamia or Persia, both past and present. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls; dozens of compact clay tablets were neatly laid out behind thick glass doors. He could also make out jewellery, pottery and Bronze Age tools and weapons stored there too.
    But the room’s centre featured the relics Roselli knew intimately.
    Mounted atop a wide