terrorist networks, like Al Qaeda and the Taliban and whoever else, they are like a virus themselves. A genetic virus. The elders, they infect the youngest, most vulnerable members of their family, and their society. From that moment of infection they are doomed to fight in a never ending war of hate. If we fight them with an actual virus we can wipe them out. It’s the only way.”
“You’ve been listing to Kumar, haven’t you?” West said. “Create a living, evolving weapon? Fight terror with terror and all that philosophical gibberish. No. It's too risky.”
“We will eliminate risk. We will have the anti-virus on hand. The test subjects will be safe.”
“How many test subjects do we use?”
“As many as we need.”
“What if word gets out? What if the public finds out?”
“They won’t find out. These people are illegal immigrants and asylum seekers and people smugglers. They can’t even speak English. No one will know about this.”
“A wise man once said; a secret is not a secret if more than one person knows about it.”
“If anyone talks, they die. It’s as simple as that. We’ve got the military’s full support.”
West threw away another cigarette. He held his arms out wide and said, “There is nothing in the desert.”
“That is why this desert is the perfect location,” Hunter said. “We are isolated here. It is safe.”
“Nowhere is safe. Not with biological weapons. Not with a virus like this. Nowhere is safe. No one is safe.”
“Look, the bottom line is we need to speed up the process. We need to test on humans.”
“We should consult with Kumar,” West said.
“He would agree with me. You know he would. And besides, he's in Afghanistan. He’s got his hands full.”
Doctor West thought it over. Hunter knew he was close. Hell, he probably already wanted to do it. He just wanted to let everyone know that he had a conscience. If this little talk made him feel better, then so be it.
“This is the start,” Hunter said. “This is the turning point. When we look back, we will say this is where it all began. This is like Einstein’s letter to Roosevelt about the atomic bomb. This is how we become heroes.”
West lit another cigarette and played with the lighter. “Fine. We test on humans. But we monitor symptoms closely. Twenty-four hour intensive care. We have the anti-virus on standby. Full quarantine measures.”
“Of course.”
Hunter smiled. This was the beginning. He knew it.
CHAPTER 2
WOOMERA IMMIGRATION CENTER.
3 YEARS SINCE HUMAN TRIALS BEGAN…
Bashir Abbas had been watching the immigration center’s medical truck for several months now, almost as long as he had been stuck in this hellhole.
A year ago he had fled his home country of Afghanistan. He was a former member of the Taliban. Not that he would ever admit to it. As far as he was concerned that part of his life was over. But if the Taliban ever found him he would be executed on the spot. And if anyone else ever found out that he used to part of the Taliban, he knew he would be taken away, locked up. Interrogated and tortured.
So now in order to survive he had to remain hidden. He had to be invisible. Starting a new life in Australia was his best option for disappearing.
Luckily his training within the Taliban had come in useful. In his youth he was groomed to become a sleeper agent. An infiltrator. He was trained in espionage and guerilla warfare and on how to command several terrorist splinter cells at once. He was also taught to speak fluent English. Basically he was trained to infiltrate western society and then strike.
But not anymore.
Why did he get out?
He had witnessed the several members of the Taliban, soldiers and warriros who he considered to be brothers, execute a room full of young girls. The girls were learning English and western history and western religion in secret. This was forbidden. Punishable by death. This incident was the reason he got out. This incident
“You’ve been listing to Kumar, haven’t you?” West said. “Create a living, evolving weapon? Fight terror with terror and all that philosophical gibberish. No. It's too risky.”
“We will eliminate risk. We will have the anti-virus on hand. The test subjects will be safe.”
“How many test subjects do we use?”
“As many as we need.”
“What if word gets out? What if the public finds out?”
“They won’t find out. These people are illegal immigrants and asylum seekers and people smugglers. They can’t even speak English. No one will know about this.”
“A wise man once said; a secret is not a secret if more than one person knows about it.”
“If anyone talks, they die. It’s as simple as that. We’ve got the military’s full support.”
West threw away another cigarette. He held his arms out wide and said, “There is nothing in the desert.”
“That is why this desert is the perfect location,” Hunter said. “We are isolated here. It is safe.”
“Nowhere is safe. Not with biological weapons. Not with a virus like this. Nowhere is safe. No one is safe.”
“Look, the bottom line is we need to speed up the process. We need to test on humans.”
“We should consult with Kumar,” West said.
“He would agree with me. You know he would. And besides, he's in Afghanistan. He’s got his hands full.”
Doctor West thought it over. Hunter knew he was close. Hell, he probably already wanted to do it. He just wanted to let everyone know that he had a conscience. If this little talk made him feel better, then so be it.
“This is the start,” Hunter said. “This is the turning point. When we look back, we will say this is where it all began. This is like Einstein’s letter to Roosevelt about the atomic bomb. This is how we become heroes.”
West lit another cigarette and played with the lighter. “Fine. We test on humans. But we monitor symptoms closely. Twenty-four hour intensive care. We have the anti-virus on standby. Full quarantine measures.”
“Of course.”
Hunter smiled. This was the beginning. He knew it.
CHAPTER 2
WOOMERA IMMIGRATION CENTER.
3 YEARS SINCE HUMAN TRIALS BEGAN…
Bashir Abbas had been watching the immigration center’s medical truck for several months now, almost as long as he had been stuck in this hellhole.
A year ago he had fled his home country of Afghanistan. He was a former member of the Taliban. Not that he would ever admit to it. As far as he was concerned that part of his life was over. But if the Taliban ever found him he would be executed on the spot. And if anyone else ever found out that he used to part of the Taliban, he knew he would be taken away, locked up. Interrogated and tortured.
So now in order to survive he had to remain hidden. He had to be invisible. Starting a new life in Australia was his best option for disappearing.
Luckily his training within the Taliban had come in useful. In his youth he was groomed to become a sleeper agent. An infiltrator. He was trained in espionage and guerilla warfare and on how to command several terrorist splinter cells at once. He was also taught to speak fluent English. Basically he was trained to infiltrate western society and then strike.
But not anymore.
Why did he get out?
He had witnessed the several members of the Taliban, soldiers and warriros who he considered to be brothers, execute a room full of young girls. The girls were learning English and western history and western religion in secret. This was forbidden. Punishable by death. This incident was the reason he got out. This incident
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