The King's Tower

By Tony Brunal

Ava Alexander has just discovered why they are performing so many HLA genotypings in her lab in the Yuma desert. She has followed the clues to a solar generation plant next to her facility and the underground sub-facility that hides a morbid secret. Ava is way over her head, but breaking protocol is the only way to be sure. What she finds will shock her. Her intuitions will lead her to a secret government program called The King's Tower.

 

How will she expose the grim discovery? Who will help understand the magnitude of her discovery? And who is behind The King's Tower?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tony Brunal
• Release date: Aug 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393535560

Tony Brunal

I have always loved Science Fiction and Sci-Fi movies, from authors like Ray Bradburry to Authur C. Clark. Being in the technology field for over 30 years, I love the way the world can change rather quickly, and how authors have always been able to predict certain scientific trends and technologies. 

Book preview

Chapter 1 — Phase Change

It’s a late November night in Washington D.C., ruined by the torrential rain falling outside. Most of the DC crowd has already started to head home. On this cold Friday night, they avoid the not so typical climate for the Capital. Near the neighborhood of Deanwood, the opioid epidemic has claimed another victim. But unlike most deaths, the authorities were too late in finding the body. By the time the coroner arrived, the stench had permeated the rundown apartment.

The responding police officer stands at the doorway with his hand over his mouth and nose. He feels sickened by the odor. Also struggling, are two coroner professionals covered in Tyvek suits. The professionals gag at blackened skin and sunken skeletal features. Wearing face shields, and breathing masks, they struggle with the stench.

This body has been here a while. Two to three months, I am not sure how the neighbors never noticed the stench. The lead coroner says out loud.

Gagging, the police officer asks, Any ID?

The lead coroner reaches into the dead man’s pocket, pulls out a weathered wallet, and hands it to the officer.

The officer uses his glove covered hand to take the wallet from the coroner. He uses his pen to flip the wallet open to reveal a yellowed driver’s license. Jerry Pennington was 25 years old when he died. The officer takes note of the name and address listed, and then places the wallet in an evidence bag. Hours later, the lead detective makes an astonishing discovery. After inputting the name in the police database, he picks up the phone and dials his superior. 

It’s late inside the White House Chief of Staff’s apartment. The light is absent except for the flickering light of on the computer monitor. Drowning out the gentle ticking of the mechanical keyboard, is a loudly ringing phone. The Chief of Staff is up in front of his computer reading the next day’s agenda, while holding a semi-filled tumbler. With the Woodford Reserve bourbon in one hand, the Chief of Staff picks up the phone.

Hello, Yes, this is Wilbur. The man in his pajama’s answers.

He slugs a gulp away, That is tragic. Do we know what happened to him?

Wilbur Gentry has been the president’s Chief of staff for the past six years. Keeping the administration together through re-election and many internal battles.

No, I will tell him.... Where is the body being held? The older gentleman rises from his chair and looks out his window in the direction of the White House.

The Chief of Staff swallows the last of the bourbon, and responds, Transfer his body to Walter Reed........ Leave that to me........ I will get the president there.

He hangs up the phone and pours one finger full of bourbon. Wilbur swallows hard, and sets the glass down on the desk, before proceeding into the other room 

IN THE CAPITAL, THE drips, and drabs, increase into a steady drizzle. Until finally, the deluge blankets the city. Caught in the precipitous sheets, are several vagrants who wander Lafayette Square. As the water runs down the sidewalk. Falling into the storm drains in front of the White House, a dark suburban enters the compound. Inside the vehicle is a grim Wilbur Gentry, ready to deliver the news about President's son. The slow ride up the driveway to the south-entrance, is indicative of the news being delivered. Outside the South Portico, two secret service agents stand at the ready. Under umbrellas, the agents wait for the SUV. Once it pulls up, they open the door.

Miserable night Mr. Gentry? The lead Secret Service Agent asks, gesturing a hand to assist the older man.

Quite miserable. Wilbur punctuates his response, ignoring the helpful hand and then leading the way. The agent quickly pivots and tries to keep up.

The lead Secret Service Agent, opens the portico door, allowing the statesman to enter. Inside both men walk into the green room and pass the cross-hallway, and up the grand staircase. Once on the second floor the two somberly stride to the West Sitting hall in front of the President’s bedroom. Stationed outside, are two Secret Service agents, who are quickly stand. Ready for the two-approaching people.

Relax Tom, the Chief here has some news for the President. The Lead Secret Agent calms the other two men.

The Chief of Staff looks to the Lead Secret Service Agent, Sam, let me tell him. I worry with his heart; it may come as a shock.

Wilbur knocks on the door, Mr. President, I need to speak with you.

He is met with silence for a long moment.

Wilbur knocks on the door one more time, this time more forcibly, Mr. President, I need to speak with you.

There is a grumbling inside, before the invitation is given, Give me a moment!

Several minutes pass before a white-haired gentleman opens the door,

Let’s talk out here in the sitting hall, Mabel just got to sleep. He offers in a whispering tone.

The three men stroll to the couches that fill the room with the large round window. As they sit Wilbur places his hand on the president’s shoulder.

Gerald, please prepare yourself, what I am about to tell you may come as a shock. The old friend tells the President.

President Pennington hardens himself against the news, Sure Wilbur. What’s the news?

The Chief of Staff, with a long pause, sadly presents the facts, Gerald, the capital police found your son.

A smile glances the president’s face for a moment before the Chief of Staff shakes his head.

The mood tempers his expectation. Gerald, it’s not as you had hoped, they were too late.

The President’s demeanor changes quickly, as the Chief of Staff continues with his report.

Somberly, Wilbur continues, It seems your son has overdosed, and has passed away Gerald.

Tears begin to stream from the white-haired man’s face. President Pennington grabs his friend’s hand tightly, Can we save him?.

A comforting Wilbur Gentry tells his President, We cannot bring him back, too much time has passed. I had his body transferred quietly over to Walter Reed Medical Center.

Wilbur looks into the sorrowful eyes of his friend. Unfortunately, Gerry, you will need to Identify the body.

A distraught President laments the loss of his son as the news hits the President hard. He sobs for a moment before standing. His friend felt the pain along with his old friend. Even the stoic Secret Service Agents eyes begin to swell with emotion for his president.

President Pennington walks slowly to his bedroom. Before entering, he tells the men standing, Give me a few moments to tell Mable. Get the beast ready, we'll leave in fifteen.

Of course, Mr. President. We’ll bring the car outside. Sam, the Lead Secret Service Agent tells the president.

Inside the closed door to the president’s bedroom, a loud feminine wail can be heard, followed by loud crying. Then, a loud shrill, changes into calls of her son’s name. After a few moments, the sounds subside. A red eyed president steps out of the bedroom, dressed and ready to take on his task. The sound of his wife crying unravels his entire thought process, and seeps in over and over.

Mable will not be joining us. She is too distraught. It was difficult for her to conceive. Jerry was all we had. A saddened President explains to Sam.

I understand sir. The car is ready, and arrangements have been made at Walter Reed. A sympathetic Agent replies.

He is lead there by the Lead Secret Service Agent and followed by Chief of Staff. They walk out the sitting hallway, down the grand staircase, and then out to the South Portico. Awaiting the men, is what is affectionately called The Beast. The United States presidential state car is a million-dollar late model Cadillac chassis. The chassis loaded with multiple, secret, defensive and offensive measures. The Secret Service Agent stands holding the car door open, under an umbrella. The cold winter rain washing over the backside of his raincoat. The president under Sam’s umbrella somberly walks to the car. The President thanks all the men and lazily salutes the agent holding the door. Once is inside the car with the Chief of staff, a slew of Agents enter a convoy of dark colored Suburbans.  The heavily tinted windows obscuring their precious cargo.

Cadillac one on the move. Can be heard over the radio.

The motorcade leaves the White House under the cover of rain and darkness. There are no reporters to capture the somber moment. The cars move off the compound. Then travels west on Pennsylvania avenue, before heading north and west. The beast speeds along Wisconsin Avenue, flanked by heavily armed Secret Service vehicles. The thirty-minute trip takes less than 20, at the speeds the vehicles are trained to advance.

The Walter Reed National Military Medical Center has been the primary care facility for US Presidents since the closure of the Army Medical Center. Ironically, it too was also named after Major Walter Reed an Army physician. Major Reed was instrumental in identifying and establishing methods to isolate the transmission of Yellow Fever. Now the newer Walter Reed hospital awaits the arrival of the U.S. President.

Passing the guarded gates, the motorcade pulls up to the tall, white stoned building. Awaiting the President is the advance scout team. Flanking the scout team, are several police officers, followed by the Chief Coroner. The beast rolls to a stop, and an agent under an umbrella opens the car door and stands stoically aside. The President exits Cadillac One, followed by the Chief Mr. President, this is Chief Coroner, Wendell Dixon. The two shake hands as the Chief of Staff makes the introductions.

This is Chief Inspector, Peter Cecile. He is leading the investigation. They begin to walk inside and follow the Coroner.

The group of men enter the sliding doors under heavy Secret Service presence.  They are escorted into the elevator. Silently, the elevator spins down to the sublevel floors.  Leading the entourage, the coroner and security detail guard the morgue. Located on the opposite side of the building, the herd shuffles from the elevator. Walking down the hallway, and into the cold room. It's quiet in the inner sanctum of the main building. Not even the torrential pounding of the rain can be heard from these lower floors. Before entering, the group is instructed to take a mask and are informed of odors that may make some ill. In the brightly lit room, a white sheet covers a body on a coroner’s examination table. It lies alone in the center of the room. The stench of death is pungent. It smacks the veteran men as they walk through the door. Several Agents exit out of respect, but the President is resolute as he walks to his son.

Gerald, take deep breath. The Chief of Staff instructs his friend.

The Coroner stands next to the body as he holds the upper portion of the sheet. The Presidents hands and his breathing increases.

Mr. President, I must warn you first. Several weeks passed before the discovery. There was some decomposition. So, please sir, take your time. The Coroner begins to remove the sheet from the top of the table to expose the sunken facial features.

I can’t.... tell...No...Maybe. Tears begin streaming from the President’s face. He clasps his hands as they shake uncontrollably.

The coroner takes his time with the distraught man. Mr. President, were there any birthmarks, scars or tattoos that will help us identify him?

The President stops his sobbing for the moment. Yes, he had a small crude tattoo of an arrow pointing to his crotch area. He used to cover his appendectomy scar when he was a teenager. I always hated it.

The coroner lifts the lower half of the sheet to reveal the yellowed skin under the sheet.

Sir, is this the tattoo? A small tattoo in the shape of an arrow is clearly visible.

The President begins to sob uncontrollably, Yes, that it, That’s my son......Noooooo!

Wilbur holds on to the President as he almost falls to the floor. His grief is immense. His only son is dead and cold, and the crowd around him hurriedly helps the President up.

Get him out of here. Wilbur instructs the Secret Service men.

The coroner quickly covers the body and the Secret Service men help the president out of the room. In the hallway, Wilbur helps his friend back to the elevator, and up to the main floor. The elevator ride was silently dark. Only the mechanical sounds are heard as the doors open. The security detail is the first out of the elevator to secure the path ahead. Out from the back of the elevator, the President is led by the Chief of staff into the hallway. As the group walks to the sliding doors, the President collapses on the floor. Several nurses and doctors, who happened to be on the floor, rush in to help the fallen man. The security detail instructs them to stop and to stay back. Wilbur is down on the floor, along with Sam, tending to the President, but the situation is more serious.

Quickly, someone get a gurney. Wilbur yells out.

Two nurses run to the fallen president, followed by two orderlies with a gurney. The wall of agents opens and allow the hospital staff to enter the sanctity of the presidential circle.

On the floor a concerned Chief of Staff leans to his friend, Gerald, we are going to get you the best care. They are here to help.

Multiple hospital staff members grab the President by his clothes, and hurriedly place him on the gurney.

A doctor takes his pulse around the carotid artery, It’s weak, we need to take him in to get a full work up.

The entourage moves closely around the, guarding every direction. They briskly move the president into an examination room. A nurse closes the door and lowers the blinds around the room. Other nurses methodically place Electrocardiography sensors, in and around the president’s chest. The instruments measure the contractions of the heart along with the heart rate. Lastly, a nurse places a Pulse Oximetry monitor on the president’s finger. Measuring the oxygen level to the president's vital organs.

We need potassium and magnesium levels, STAT The Doctor directs the nurse.

The doctor listens to his labored breathing and reads the ECG results.

He’s had a major heart attack. We need to perform other tests, but first we need to stabilize him first. The doctor explains to the Chief of Staff, as the sounds on the machines beep in the background.

Wilbur and Sam stand next to the doctor as he looks over the unconscious President. Nurses perform their blood draw and prepare the IV Drip. On the ECG screen the QRS complex, indicates the poor pumping contractions of the heart. The nurse states out loud, His R peak is dropping, it’s reaching 95 percent.

The doctor yells out, He’s crashing! Starting compressions.

As the doctor leans into his patient, counting the number of compressions out loud, a nurse prepares a bag ventilator.

Step aside men! The doctor yells to the Chief of Staff and Security Detail.

twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four.... The doctor’s forehead begins to sweat under his medical garb.

Wilbur steps outside of the room, while Sam continues his vigilance.

Wilbur reaches into his pocket, pulls out his cell phone, and begins the succession protocol, Marie, wake the Vice-President.

The next several minutes, while the president fights for his life, Wilbur sets the steps in place to keep the country stable. The last phone call he makes is to a secure telephone number, to a private company called Sujiatun Corporation. Based out of China, the controversial company has maneuvered the United States foreign ownership’s loopholes to put a toe hold in the Arizona desert.

Yes, yes this is Wilbur Gentry, authorization 105-bravo-23. We need a recovery team at the Walter Reed Medical Center. Hurry! A tense Chief of Staff Hangs up the phone, when suddenly the commotion in the room gets louder.

The door opens and the gurney with a doctor steadily on his chest doing compressions, passes the standing Chief of Staff.

They are taking him to the operating room! Sam follows the commotion to the elevator.

Wilbur looks at his watch and takes the next elevator up to the surgery ward.

THE COLD FACILITY AT the Sujiatun Corporation is a behemoth reflective glass-walled building. During the daylight hours, the sun gleams against the glass, practically blinding travelers on the downtown Alexandria City streets. At this late hour, the reflections are only of the stars and sidewalk lights that surround the building.

Inside, the large storage rooms are temperature controlled, with a variety of ex vivo machines, all humming and lit with an assortment of led lights and symbols. The XVO machines are the byproduct of years of research into the organ viability experiments, and manufacturing processes perfected in China over the years. Now the secretive machines are curating a room full of organs. Each box numbered to it’s the intended recipient.

From the corner of the room, an autonomous robot traverses the room and stops at location 1776. The robot probes the contents by plugging itself into the matching connector. After performing internal checks, the robot disengages its mating end, and extends metal rotary arms toward the box. The box mechanisms are unlocked and unhinged, and the arms crease into the sides of the XVO Machine. Slowly, the box is lowered into the robot carriage and locked into place. Once aboard, the robot follows a predetermined path, out the temperature-controlled room, and into the hallway to an awaiting elevator. After riding to lift to the main floor,