The Washington Prophecy: An Archeological Thriller (Nick Randall Series Book 4) by Robert Rapoza

Author:Robert Rapoza [Rapoza, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Randall was no longer in the workroom with Michael. Instead, he sat at a long, oval table with President Mercer, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and an assortment of other serious looking women and men. They were discussing potential military responses to continued aggression by the Russians, who had expanded their push into Eastern Europe. Making matters worse, China had taken advantage of Russia’s actions and had instigated military forays into India and Pakistan. The entire region balanced on the precipice of war. Segments of the group were pushing for the United States to join its allies in armed warfare in both theaters. A few even suggested that the use of tactical nuclear weapons might be necessary to contain the Russian and Chinese aggression. Mercer still sought a diplomatic solution.

The scene changed. Randall was now wedged into a small conference room with members of the Secret Service. They spoke in serious tones of an assault on President Mercer and the demands made by his captors. Randall felt a sharp, piercing pain in his chest as if someone had stabbed him. He looked down at his shirt, but there was no blood or weapon. Everything appeared to be normal.

The view shifted again. This time Randall was sitting in his living room with Sam and John. The television was on and the news commentator spoke in rapid bursts about the wars raging across Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. An emergency siren arose from the distance, a crawler beneath the newscaster announced incoming nuclear missiles targeted for multiple cities across the United States, including Washington D.C.

Randall grabbed his chest, the pain becoming unbearable. Dismembered voices called to him through the fog of pain. Was he having a heart attack and hallucinating about the voices? He turned from Sam to John, terror etched on their faces. But they weren’t looking at him.

The voices. Who the hell is calling me?

Something grabbed him from behind and dragged him to the ground. Randall tumbled, hit the floor and looked up to find Michael standing over him, holding his leg, biting back the pain. “Dammit Nick, are you okay?”

“What’s happening? Where are Sam and John?” Randall said, eyes darting around the room.

“You were hallucinating. I had to tackle you to unplug your hands from the machine!” Michael slumped into a chair, blood seeping through his bandaged leg.

Sanity slowly crept back into Randall’s mind, and he rose to his feet. “The sphere. I had visions,” he said, struggling to get the thought out. He rubbed his chest, which ached. The pain had been real, unlike the dreams produced in the hypnotic state induced by the machine.

“You were nearly white. All the blood had drained from your face and you were talking about chest pains. I thought you were going to die,” Michael said, puffing from the exertion.

Randall gulped air in large breaths, trying to sort out his visions from reality. The pain in his chest had subsided from a 9 to 4. It still hurt, but was getting better.

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