Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1 (19 page)

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Authors: GJ Fortier

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BOOK: Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1
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The captain didn’t miss a beat. “Benny,” he
corrected. “And I'd put Rob Tyler up against any ten men half his
age. In addition, he has the operational experience that was
required for candidacy, and more.”

The senator thought about protesting more
but refrained.
What was the point of putting the captain in
charge of the selection process if I don't trust the man's
judgment?
“Have you met with him?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“And?”

“I've given him until Friday to decide.”

Kingsley finished her wine and waved the
empty glass toward Keri, who immediately began scanning the room
for the waitress. The senator sat back, again suppressing her
frustration. This one candidate was her only hope of not having to
go through the entire process again. And they would have to choose
from among lesser men if he didn't come on board. “How did he
react?”

“I'm hopeful, Senator.” It was no lie. Benny
was hopeful that Rob would decline and the program would shrivel up
and die.

The server arrived and poured more wine for
Kingsley. “No, thank you,” Benny said again as she held the bottle
over his glass.

“Did you tell him about the promotion?” The
senator leaned in after taking a sip. “At forty-six, he must be
close to retirement. I'm sure he wouldn't mind the prestige of
becoming a captain first. Not to mention the little bump in his
paycheck to carry over with him.”

The idea of giving an officer—any officer—an
unwarranted promotion was detestable to Benny. “I'm sorry, Senator.
I don't dangle carrots in front of my men to get them to do their
duty. Even if it is voluntary. If he chooses to participate, well
that will be the icing on the cake.”

Kingsley had to take a moment and a deep
breath. She was unused to her subordinates not going above and
beyond for her. But Benny was different. He was close to retirement
himself and had nothing to lose. He had served his country with
distinction and deserved everything he had earned. She did have to
admit that she liked him. Not that she would ever let him know it.
She turned toward her assistant. “Keri, honey, would you give the
captain and me a few minutes? Go and get yourself a cup of coffee
or something.”

Without hesitation, the young woman rose
from the table. “Yes ma'am,” she answered, and walked toward the
bar.

When she was out of earshot, Kingsley turned
back to the captain. “Benny, I think that it's time for you to get
enlightened.”

“Ma'am?”

The senator took another sip of wine before
she continued. “You see, this project is very important to me. And
not just to me, but to the American people.” Her expression turned
to one of thoughtfulness. “To tell you the truth, it's going to be
my gift to this country that has been so good to me and my
family.”

Benny studied the woman intently.

“Imagine a world where no more of America's
sons and daughters need to be put into harm’s way. A world where
our enemies would fight a foe that they could never destroy. A
world where there would be no more fatherless or motherless
children because their parents had made the ultimate sacrifice in
the defense of their country.”

Benny suspected where she was going.

“Well, I intend to give the United States
just that sort of world.” She smiled brightly. “And,
you
are
going to help me.”

“Ma'am?”

“Well, you”—she leaned in close—“but more
importantly, your Commander Tyler. With his help … or to be more
specific, his genes or DNA or whatever it is that they use, Tyler
will be the father of a whole army of men ready to fight and die
for us. We will never again feel the pain of our fallen
soldiers.”

From the moment he was brought into the
program, Benny had played out several possible scenarios in his
head.  Without saying the actual words, Kingsley had just
confirmed his worst fears. “You intend to clone Commander
Tyler.”

“We intend to clone Commander Tyler,” she
repeated with some degree of perverse satisfaction.

“In violation of international law.” He was
still speaking in hushed tones, but he was clear. It wasn't a
question. It was a statement, an accusation.

Kingsley chuckled. “The United Nations can
go to blazes. They are impotent. They have used our troops to do
their dirty work for decades. That business is about to be over.
It's about time we start looking after our own interests and stop
being the world’s police force.”

Benny couldn't argue that point. He, along
with many others in the military, had felt this way for years. That
maybe it was time to stop looking out for the interests of others
in the world who held the U. S. in low regard, including some who
identified as friends, and start looking after our own affairs and
those of our true allies.

But a word stuck in his mind. Army. An army
of clones. It was like something out of science fiction. Benny
doubted it would be possible. A dream that couldn't come true.
There had been too many problems with cloning in the past. Animals
born with hideous deformities. Even when they weren't apparent,
there were internal problems. Abnormal organs and the like. No, God
wouldn't allow man to do such a thing. But his mind began to race
anyway.
If Rob chooses to participate
,
what would he be
in for?
He quickly dismissed the idea.
No, Rob wouldn't do
it. He couldn't.
Benny was sure that he hadn't given Rob enough
information. There were far too many unanswered questions for him
to make a decision one way or the other, and he would therefore
decline. Then Benny's mind came to another roadblock. The senator
had said
he
was going to help, as well as Rob. He thought
his part of the project would be done after the selection process.
Even if Rob chose to decline and the selection process started over
again, surely they would find someone else to do the choosing.
After all, failure would mean that he had not been able to find
even one man either capable or willing to participate in a
year-and-a-half. He looked at Kingsley. “You said I was going to
help. What did you mean by that?”

Kingsley drained her glass and returned the
captain’s stare. “I asked the Defense Department to send an officer
to the facility in Georgia to take operational command of the
program. They tried to kill two birds with one stone by sending a
snot-nosed young Air Force major, a doctor fresh out of medical
school, to pull double duty as their medical doctor and command the
team. It’s a good thing he wasn’t allowed any further than the
supply room. Yeoum Chi would eat him alive.”

Benny didn't know who that was, but he
suspected that the wine had loosened Kingsley's tongue.
Does she
even realize what she’s saying?
Benny didn't think so. But he
was anticipating what the senator was going to say next.

“No, that dog just ain't gonna hunt.” She
dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “That's why I'm
sending you down there.”

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

 

9 July 2010

 

 

IT WAS FRIDAY MORNING
at eleven
hundred hours before Rob could meet with the associate pastor of
Summerville Christian Assembly, Doctor Phillip Wallace, at his
office on the church campus on Main Street. Phil’s appointment book
had been full for the week, but when Carol explained the urgent
nature of her husband’s request, he had rearranged his schedule and
agreed to meet with Rob.

Brother Phil shook Rob's hand. “It’s great
to see ya Rob. Have a seat.”

Rob was uncomfortable. The office was unlike
any that he had been in before. There were several bookcases with
many statuettes, pictures, trinkets, and books. That wasn't the
unusual thing. What was unusual was the spiritual subject matter of
most of them. The books had names like
The German Church
Conflict
;
Seven Practices Of Effective Ministry
;
The
Holy Spirit: Activating God's Power In Your Life
. Rob had been
in many book-laden offices in his time, but the theme of them had
been quite different. Books Rob was more familiar with had titles
like
The Book of War: Sun Tzu’s The Art of War
;
Operation
Mincemeat: How a Dead Man And A Bizarre Plan Fooled The Nazis And
Assured An Allied Victory
;
Helmet For My Pillow: From Paris
Island To The Pacific
. Rob was much more comfortable with
titles such as those. There were pictures of Phil with his family,
others with church members, still others were of the pastor on
mission trips to places that Rob could only guess at. It surprised
Rob that entering the office affected him so much. He had come to
terms with the spiritual dimension of his life years ago.
I'm a
Christian. I know what this is all about.

Or so he thought.

He began to wonder if
he
was the
thing that was out of place in that room. Until he entered the
small office, he felt perfectly comfortable in church. He had
denounced his former ways as an abomination before the Lord. He had
taken the lives of people without any regard for them or the
families who loved them. Many of them were just like he used to be,
men who killed. But at the moment he was struggling with the
feeling that he was unworthy to even to stand in the presence of a
true man of God.

Brother Phil himself, a
distinguished-looking gentleman a few years Rob's senior, added to
his discomfort. His salt-and-pepper hair was short and neatly
trimmed. He wore a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a multicolored
plaid short-sleeved shirt and gold, wire rimmed glasses. He sat
behind a cherry stained wooden desk with a glass writing surface,
cut to match the size of the desktop. There were a number of books
on it, the most prominent of which was the New King James Bible
sitting just off center.

“Please, have a seat,” Phil repeated, unsure
why Rob was still standing.

Slowly, Rob sat. He adjusted his posture,
wanting to sit up straight to show respect for the man across the
desk. “Thanks very much for seeing me on such short notice, Brother
Phil.”

“Not a problem,” Phil said in a friendly,
accommodating tone. “I just had to do a bit of juggling. Carol
mentioned you had a deadline, and frankly, I was looking forward to
getting to know you a little better. You guys joined the church
several years back, and, except on Sunday I rarely get a chance to
talk to you. Outside of softball practice, I mean.”

Rob shifted in his seat uneasily. “Well, you
should join us on our next trip to Russia. There's always plenty of
time to talk and get to know one another during the flight and at
the cottage where we stay.” He instinctively tried to put the
pastor on the defensive by shifting the responsibility for their
relationship on to Phil's shoulders. He immediately berated himself
for it, closing his eyes tightly for just a moment.
You're here
for his help, idiot!
And then he smiled widely, hoping that the
pastor hadn't noticed.

Phil took the comment in stride. “I might
just do that. I've wanted to meet and talk with Pastor Yeosef and
his family in Kamensk-Uralski in the flesh rather than just through
email. Maybe I'll join you next April.”

“So … how's the wife?” Rob asked, unsure how
to begin.

“She’s fine, thank you for asking. She's
getting ready for Vacation Bible School next week.” Phil sat back
in his chair and laced his fingers on his abdomen. “And Carol? How
is she? Oh, and the twins? Will they be coming to VBS?”

The question took Rob off guard. He honestly
didn't know if the kids would be at church the next week or not. “I
don't know.”

Phil looked at him quizzically.

“About the children,” Rob recovered
uncomfortably. “Carol hasn't mentioned it to me. But I intend to
find out, believe me.” His head bobbed up and down as he held his
eyes unnaturally wide.

Phil frowned.

Don't over do it, stupid.
The
commander was unused to being nervous. It was an alien feeling for
him. He had, ever since he could remember, been completely at ease
in any situation no matter how stressful. He didn’t understand why
he was feeling the way he was. He was acting clumsily and he needed
to calm down.

Seeing his uneasiness, Phil took the
initiative. “Do you mind if I open us up in prayer?” he asked.

“Please.” Rob was relieved. He laced his
fingers together, bowed his head, and closed his eyes.

Under the circumstances, Phil decided that
the
Reader’s Digest
version would be best. “Father in
Heaven, I thank you for this time of fellowship with my
brother Rob. I thank you that you have given him the confidence in
me to seek out my council and I pray you give me the wisdom to
offer your guidance to Rob with this very important decision that
he must make today about his job. Most of all, I thank you for your
son Jesus and the sacrifice that he made for us. It's in his most
precious and holy name that we pray, amen.”

“Amen,” Rob repeated. To his amazement, he
felt a bit more at ease upon hearing those words.

“So,” Phil began. “What's on your mind?”

Rob proceeded to explain his dilemma. His
past as a SEAL sniper, his coming to the Lord with Carol while he
was stationed in Japan, his career change and move to Charleston,
the ten months of observation that he and Carol had been under, the
cryptic orders given to him by the pair of psychologists that
previous Sunday, and the bizarre experience that he’d had with
Benny in Washington, all in as much detail as he dared. He even
mentioned what he wouldn't to Carol. That the captain had spoken
about genetic engineering.

Phil listened to it all patiently and
attentively, asking a question here and there, but letting Rob go
on as long as he wanted to. The pastor's expression was one of
acceptance and understanding, and it did much to make Rob feel
comfortable as he spoke. But when Rob mentioned genetics, Phil’s
expression changed to one of concern.

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