The Cain Conspiracy (2 page)

“Romeo Two-Four to Echo One-Two, come in,” the radio bellowed.

“This is Echo One-Two, over,” Terry replied.

“Roger One-Two, what’s your status?”

“We have one man critical and have both prisoners in tow. Will need immediate medical attention as soon as we touch down.”

“Roger that.”

New York—Director Ed Sanders was concluding a meeting with his Deputy Directors when a call came in on the intercom.

“Director Sanders, sir?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“We’ve just learned of a situation in Syria. The possibility exists for a new recruit.”

“Excellent. We’re done here. Bring the information in,” Sanders said.

A man came in, file folder in hand, and walked around the oval table where the seven men were seated. He handed the folder to Sanders, who immediately began looking over its contents.

“So what do we have here?” Sanders asked.

“A soldier with Team Delta is in critical condition in a combat support hospital in Israel. He was shot in the head while on a mission in Syria.”

“And what are his prospects?”

“Actually pretty good. He just came out of surgery about 30 minutes ago and is in stable condition. The bullet’s been removed and they think he’s gonna make it,” the officer informed the staff. “His military record makes him an ideal candidate.”

“Excellent. Get the jet ready for Israel,” Sanders told his subordinate as he stood up. “Gentlemen, we’ll convene next week as usual.”

Sanders gathered a few things and called for his car to be ready. He summoned for a few operators to meet him. He made his way down to the basement where his car was waiting for him. He got in the back seat and began reading the background of the soldier he was about to meet. His military records as well as his personal transcripts which went as far back as elementary school.

“What’s the verdict, sir?” his lieutenant asked.

“There are some issues which we’ll have to overcome. But nothing’s ever perfect. I think he should do nicely,” Sanders responded.

Israel Combat Support Hospital—The four government officials stepped into the hospital and were immediately taken to the commander, Colonel Jefferson.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Jefferson asked.

“We’d like to know all you can tell us about this man,” Sanders told him, handing the colonel a paper with the soldier’s name on it.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss anything with you.”

“I believe you will,” Sanders said, pulling out his top secret clearance. “Unless you wanna take this matter to the very top and I don’t think you do.”

“He had surgery early this morning to remove a bullet in his head. The surgery was successful and he’s currently recovering.”

“What are his chances that he actually makes it?”

“I’d say he’s already done it. Gunshot wound head trauma is fatal about 90% of the time. The biggest issue is the loss of blood. Most die before they even reach a hospital. For those lucky enough to get to a hospital alive, 50% will die during the surgery. So considering he’s made it through the biggest two hurdles I’d say his outlook is good,” Jefferson stated.

“Is he currently awake?”

“Not yet. He‘ll be kept under anesthesia for the next couple of days so we can monitor him for any swelling in the brain.”

“What will his prognosis be?”

“Impossible to say at this point. If you want to say a man who’s shot in the head is lucky, you can say he is. The brain has two hemispheres, each with four lobes, and in his case the bullet was only lodged in one hemisphere in a single lobe. It appears that a limited amount of tissue was damaged.”

“How long will it take for him to recover?”

“It depends on his condition. If he wakes up and the damage is as minimal as we think it is, he could be up and about within a couple weeks. If there’s further damage than we think, it could take months or years. The major issues would be motor, sensory, cognition, memory, speech, and vision. Any combination of damage in these areas could set him back in his recovery. I should also note that 50% of people who survive will suffer from seizures and require anti-epilepsy medication.”

“I thank you for all the information, Colonel. I’m going to leave two of my men here for a few days in case anything arises that needs my attention. They will stay out of your way and will stay with our subject to observe the entire time.”

“I don’t suppose I can say no,” the Colonel noted.

“You could. Wouldn’t do you any good though.”

“I thought not.”

“I expect your cooperation with anything my men needs.”

“They’ll get it.”

“I’ll be back in a few days.”

Sanders left instructions with the officers he was leaving behind to stay by the soldier’s bed until he was awake. They left the hospital to go back to New York for a couple days, eager for the soldier’s awakening. On the flight back, Sanders worked out some of the details for the inclusion of a new recruit to the organization.

Once back in New York, Sanders asked his secretary to get Michelle Lawson on the phone for him. Lawson was one of the organization’s top handlers. She had previously worked with the FBI as a data information specialist. She quickly gained a reputation for being extremely smart and acquiring mounds of information almost instantly. That was one of the principal reasons why Sanders wanted her in his employment. Lawson has been able to garner the trust of every agent she ever worked with for being able to get anything they need and help them out of tough predicaments when necessary. Though she didn’t have movie star looks, more of the pretty girl next door, she was an attractive woman that never used her looks to her advantage. She was on the smaller side, about 5’3” and thin, with short, dirty blonde hair. Within minutes Lawson was on the line.

“Shelly, how are you?” Sanders asked.

“I’m good, sir. Your secretary sounded like she was in a hurry so I figured something important was going on.”

“It is. We may have a new recruit in a few days.”

“That’s great.”

“I’m still working out the logistics of everything but I was thinking of adding him to your team. Are you able to handle one more? How many agents are you handling right now?”

“Right now I have seven agents. One more shouldn’t be a problem,” she said.

“Fantastic. Where are you right now?”

“I’m in Madrid. I was going over a mission with Agent Samson.”

“How soon can you wrap things up there? When can you get back to New York?” Sanders wondered.

“I can wrap everything up here tomorrow and be there the day after.”

“That’s fine. I would like you to be here when we introduce him to everything and get you acquainted.”

“I look forward to it, sir.”

“Great. I’ll see you in a few days then.”

“One more thing, what’s his name?”

“I guess that might be useful, huh? His name…is Matthew Cain.”

Two days later Sanders got the call from one of his liaison officers in Israel to update the fallen soldier’s condition. The doctors were no longer giving him anesthesia and expected him to be alert the next day. Sanders immediately booked a flight for his private jet to leave for Ben Gurion International Airport near Tel Aviv near midnight so he’d arrive the following morning. Once he and his staff landed they promptly made their way to the hospital. They were greeted by his officers once they reached the hospital and went to Cain’s bed.

“Has he been awake yet?”

“Not yet, sir, but they expect him to be pretty soon,” an officer responded.

“OK. Except for Shelly, the rest of you clear out of here,” Sanders told the bunch. “I don’t wanna smother him with people the moment he wakes up.”

Sanders and Lawson grabbed a couple of chairs and waited near the bed, pulling out their iPad’s to do some work while they marked time. They wouldn’t have to wait long as the soldier woke up about an hour later. The government officials stayed out of the way as the doctors checked on him and made sure there were no complications. They were eager to finally talk to him and see what the effects of the surgery was. As the doctors were finishing up Sanders stood at the end of the bed. He nodded at Lawson to follow the doctors out to speak with them.

“How you feeling, soldier?” Sanders asked.

“Other than feeling like someone’s using a sledgehammer on my head, I guess OK.”

“Remember anything about what happened?”

The soldier lifted his head, slightly sitting up, and gazed down at the floor. A terrifying realization came over him as his mind was a complete blank. Sanders could tell by the concerned look that swept over his face that he was having trouble coming up with anything. The soldier ran his hand over his head, letting his fingers feel the stitches that permeated his skull.

“What’s your name?” Sanders asked.

The soldier opened his mouth as if he was about to spit it out, but closed it a moment later, shaking his head in disgust.

“How long do I have to be in here?” the soldier wondered.

“Doctors say a couple weeks, depending on how you do with everything,” Sanders replied.

“You’re not a doctor?”

“Don’t really have the uniform for it,” Sanders said, looking down at his black suit.

“Who are you?”

“Director Ed Sanders.”

“Director of what?”

“Well, we’ll get into that another time. The most important thing right now is you.”

“I can’t remember anything,” the soldier said, frustration clearly evident in his voice.

“That might be the least of your worries. They’ll be coming in here soon to test your other faculties.”

Sanders started walking away toward Lawson, then stopped to look back at the soldier.

“By the way, your name is Thomas Nelson. You were a member of Delta Force on a special mission when you were shot in the head.”

The doctors came back in and started talking to Nelson in more detail. Sanders took Lawson aside to make sure her words with the doctors were productive.

“Are they going to cooperate?” Sanders asked.

“They were a little hesitant at first, but I convinced them it was the best move they could make in the interest of national security. They’ll be no problems,” she replied.

“Excellent,” Sanders said as his phone rang. “Stay in there with them to make sure there are no hiccups.”

Sanders took his conversation outside to avoid any prying ears. Lawson went back to Nelson as the doctors were checking him out.

“How’s he looking?” Lawson asked.

“Vitals are looking good,” a doctor noted. “Just saw the MRI results. There’s no bleeding, clots, or swelling. Some minor tissue damage but, all in all, everything’s looking fantastic.”

“That’s great.”

The doctor left the room and Nelson laid still, staring up at the ceiling, wondering when he was going to start remember things.

“I take it you’re not a doctor either?” Nelson asked, not bothering to look at his visitor.

“No, I’m not.”

“You with the other guy?”

“If you’re referring to Director Sanders, then yes, I am,” she replied.

“What do you’s want?”

“In a few minutes a specialist is going to come in here and give you a series of tests.”

“What kind?”

“Just to see what kind of additional rehab, if any, you’re going to need. I’ve already heard about your memory. We’re going to need to see if you’re having any other difficulties with your vision, motor skills, things like that.”

“If you’re not a doctor, then why are you here?” Nelson wondered.

“We work for the government in a top secret capacity. I can’t tell you more than that at the moment. What I can tell you is that we’re interested in you working for us when you get out of here.”

“Why would you want someone who’s been shot in the head and can’t even remember his name?”

“We’ve had our eye on you for a while. As long as the doctors think you’re gonna make a full recovery, there’s no reason for you not to work for us. As far as your memory, in our line of work, sometimes it’s better that way.”

“What kind of work is that?”

“Let’s get you healthy before we discuss that.”

The specialist came into the room and Lawson disappeared from sight. The specialist was a doctor that worked for the organization that flew in with Sanders and Lawson, so they trusted that Nelson could be left alone with him.

Lawson caught up to Sanders outside the hospital as he was finishing up his phone call.

“What’s the word?” Lawson asked.

“As soon as he’s ready to be moved…he’s ours,” he proudly responded. “The death certificate is being prepared as we speak. So you need to get to work right away on preparing the necessary documents and making the notifications.”

“I’ll get on it.”

“I want everything ready to go by the time he’s able to leave here.”

“What if he’s not interested in joining?” she wondered.

“What other options does a soldier with a particular set of skills and no memory have? He’ll play ball.”

After a couple hours of testing the specialist emerged from Nelson’s room.

“What’s the word, Doc?” Sanders asked.

“Well, it’s one of the most unusual cases I’ve ever seen.”

“In what way?”

“He seems to be fine in every aspect. Now, I’ve heard of cases where people shot in the head resume their normal lives immediately, so it’s not unprecedented, but it is rare.”

“So there’s no after effects?”

“Well I didn’t say that,” the doctor continued. “I asked about his past and he couldn’t tell me a thing about it. As far as his motor skills, vision, speech, everything like that seems to check out OK.”

“Did you administer the Epideptriol?”

“I did.”

“Give you any problems?”

“Nope. Not a bit. Told him it would help stimulate the tissues in his brain and maybe jog his memory.”