The Atlantis Gene (The Origin Mystery 1)

David took a breath and continued. “By 2004, I was back on my feet. I applied to the CIA that year but was turned down. I trained for another year, got turned down again in 2005, and trained some more. I thought about joining the Army, but I knew I would need to be part of covert ops to get real answers.”

Josh looked down, taking it in, seeing David in a completely different way now. He had always thought of the station chief as this invincible super soldier, had always assumed that that was all he’d ever been. The idea of him lying broken in a hospital bed for a year, of him being turned down as a field operative — twice — was slightly jarring.

“What?” David said.

“It’s nothing… I just, assumed you were a career operative. That you were with the agency on 9/11.”

An amused smiled crossed David’s lips. “No, not even close. I was a grad student, actually. At Columbia, if you can believe that. Might be why the CIA kept rejecting me — didn’t want anyone over-thinking things in the field units. But apparently the third time’s the charm — they took me in 2006. Maybe they had lost enough operatives or enough had joined the private contractors; whatever the reason, I was glad to be in-country in Afghanistan. I found my answers. The short list I had, the three companies, were actually subsidiaries of one company: Immari International. Their security division, Immari Security, coordinated their operations, but the funds from 9/11 went into several of their front companies. And I found something else. A plan for a new attack, code-named Toba Protocol.” David pointed at the file. “That file is all I have on that attack. It’s not much.”

Josh opened the file. “This is why you joined Clocktower, to investigate Immari and Toba Protocol?”

“Partly. Clocktower was the perfect platform for me. I knew back then that Immari was behind 9/11, that they had made a fortune from the attacks, and that they were actively looking for something in the mountains of East Afghanistan and Pakistan. But they got to me before I could figure out the big picture. They almost killed me in Northern Pakistan. I was officially listed as killed in action. It was the perfect opportunity to exit. I needed a new identity and somewhere to continue my work. I had never heard of Clocktower before I was in-theater in Afghanistan, but I took refuge here. It was perfect. We all come to Clocktower for our own reasons; it was the key to my survival at the time and the tool I needed to finally learn the truth about Immari and Toba. I never told anyone my real motivation, except the director. He took me in and helped me start Jakarta Station four years ago. I hadn’t made much substantial progress on the Immari question until a week ago when the source contacted me.”

“That’s why the source picked you.”

“Apparently. He knows about my investigation. He knew I would have this file. It may hold the key to decrypting the code. What I know is that Immari Corporation is somehow involved in 9/11, maybe in other terrorist plots before and after, and that they’re working on something much, much bigger. Toba Protocol. It’s why I chose Jakarta — the closest major city to Mount Toba. I think it’s a reference to where the attack will start.”

“A logical assumption. What do we know about Toba Protocol?” Josh said.

“Not a lot. Apart from a few references, there’s one memo about it. It’s a report about urbanization and the potential to reduce the total human population.”

“That limits the possibilities somewhat. A terrorist attack that could reduce the total human population, it would have to be biological, maybe a drastic change in the environment, or inciting a new global war. We’re not talking about suicide bombers; it’s something bigger.”

David nodded. “Much bigger, and probably something we would never expect. Indonesia and Jakarta is the perfect place to start an attack — the population density is high and there are tons of ex-patriots here, the start of an attack would send wealthy foreigners in Jakarta to the airport and from there to almost every country in the world.”

David motioned to the bank of computer screens behind Josh. “The computers behind you are connected to Central, our own servers, and the remaining cells. They have everything we know about what’s going on around the world, the various terrorist groups and organizations we now know are fronts for Immari International. It’s not much. Start there, get up to speed, then move on quickly to the latest local intel. If there’s anything going on here in Jakarta, we have a responsibility to investigate it first. We will need to hand off what we know in case Jakarta Station falls. Think outside the box. Whatever is going on, it may not fit any normal patterns. Look for something we wouldn’t suspect — like Saudi Nationals taking flying lessons in Germany, then moving to the US; like someone in Oklahoma buying tons of fertilizer, someone who isn’t a farmer.”

“What’s in the rest of the folders?” Josh said.

David pushed a folder across the desk. “This folder contains the rest of the information on Immari that I collected before I joined Clocktower.”

“It’s not in the computer?”

“No. I never turned it over to Clocktower either. You’ll see why. The other envelope contains a letter, from me to you. You should open it when I die. It will provide you with instructions.”

Josh started to say something, but David interrupted. “There’s one last thing.”

David stood and retrieved a small case from the corner of the room. He set the case on the table. “This room and the outer chamber will give you some protection, and I hope, enough time to find something and decode the message. Clocktower HQ is the last place they’ll be looking for you. Nevertheless, I doubt we have a lot of time. Send whatever you find to my mobile. The top-right monitor shows a camera feed. That camera is over the door — looking out into the server room, so you’ll know if someone is trying to get in here. As you know, there are no cameras in the main HQ, for security reasons, so you may not have much notice.” He opened the case and took out a handgun. He slid the magazine into the handle of the gun and placed it on the table in front of Josh. “You know how to use this?”

Josh eyed the gun and leaned back in the chair. “Uh, yes. Well, I had basic training when I joined the agency 12 years ago, but I haven’t used one since. So… no, not really.” He wanted to say, “If covert ops forces get in this room, what kind of chance do I really have?”, but he didn’t; he knew David was showing him the gun to make him feel safer. Not being scared to death would clear his mind and help him do his job, but Josh felt that was only half of the chief’s motivation.