The Samson Effect Chapter 24

Navigation:
Chapter 1
Table Of Contents


FOR THREE MONTHS, Thomas and Michael waited with the women for the botanist to do her thing. Thomas vividly remembered the euphoria that swept through the house when she had called less than two weeks after receiving the seed to report the appearance of tiny sprouts. The daily updates Michael, in his excitement, had insisted on receiving grew monotonous for everyone and quickly turned into weekly updates. Even the botanist seemed surprised at the sprout's rapid growth. Her own excitement was evident as she reported one week that she had not been able to identify the plant. It was a new, undiscovered species.

A few weeks ago, however, they had received a call from her that rivaled the excitement of her initial call. The plant had produced five seeds that were quickly maturing. Last night she had asked to meet so Thomas and Michael could pick up the plant and four of the five seeds in exchange for the promised research on its discovery. Since tomorrow was the Sabbath and the facility would only have a skeletal crew of nonorthodox Jews, they agreed to meet then at 6:00 a.m.

Thomas lay in bed and looked at the clock. Midnight. Although he had consumed no caffeine, his body felt like it was jacked up on ten pots of coffee. He and Michael had invested over a year of their lives searching for the Samson Effect. They both suffered injuries and lived under the threat of death, and they both lost people close to them. As far as he knew, he was still a wanted man in his own country.

But in less than six hours he would be holding in his hands the thing responsible for all of it.

His bedroom door cracked open, followed by a soft rap. It wasn't Hanna; she never knocked. A deep voice called from behind the door. "Thomas, you awake?"

Thomas rolled over and turned on the lamp sitting on the nightstand. "Yeah, come on in."

Michael slipped in and sat at the foot of the bed. "I'm having a tough time sleeping myself. I can't believe it. It actually exists." He gripped Thomas's leg and squeezed it in excitement. "Do you know what this means?"

"Hey, I'm as excited as you, but you do know there's a possibility this is still just a legend. We may find out this plant is nothing more than a heck of a burger topping." He tried to look serious, but Michael saw through him.

"You can't wait to see what it's like to be Samson, can you?"

"I'm serious." He couldn't maintain his facade any longer. A betraying smile stretched across his face. "No, I guess I can't." After a brief fantasy played through his mind, his deeper analytical thinking surfaced. "We're going to have to test this thoroughly and build safety nets into our experiments, especially on how it affects mental health. If it's more than a legend, then there may be a correlation between it and mental illnesses I've researched."

Michael's spirit did not dampen one iota. "Sure. Absolutely. We'll be very cautious." He squeezed and shook Thomas's legs again. "I can't wait to walk up to it tomorrow, pluck off a leaf, and see how quickly the strength starts flooding into me."

Thomas bolted from the bed and towered over Michael. "That's exactly what I mean about safety! You've no idea what—"

Michael fell onto his back, holding his stomach while laughing. "I'm kidding, Thomas. Take it easy. Of course we'll be careful."

Thomas felt his cheeks flush. He sat down on the bed next to Michael and shook his head with a smile. Of course Michael would take safety seriously. Michael sat up and patted him on the back. "We better get some sleep. Tomorrow morning is already here."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Is Delia still putting the pressure on you to tell her more about the plant?"

"Are you kidding? It's become a nightly chorus by now. 'Don't you trust me? Don't you love me? How can you shut me out?' I tell you, she was wonderful for a while, but now I believe she's taking it personally."

"What do you tell her?"

"The truth. I do love her; and when I'm positive we're all safe, I'll tell her." He looked at Thomas and shook his head. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her anything."

"Oh, it's not that. Lately, Hanna's been needling me for more information too. To tell the truth, I think Delia's put her up to it. Hanna doesn't like to appear weak in any way; and every time I tell her no, I can see the humiliation in her eyes. Makes me feel like a louse."

"Are they still drinking on the verandah?"

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Yeah. They're strengthening each other up to slowly chip away our resolve. I think I liked it better when they hated each other."

"Well, why not come clean now? Once we get the plant, there will be nothing to hide anymore."

Thomas thought for moment. "Why not? We've been here three months and all has been quiet. We have to leave in a few days when your friends return anyway. Let's go find them."

They entered the upstairs media room and walked through to the balcony. The women sat at a small round table sipping wine from their nearly empty glasses. Michael picked up two clean wine glasses from the shelf next to the sliding door before entering the veranda. The women hushed their conversation, acknowledging their entrance with smiles and tipped glasses.

Thomas pulled up a chair and sat while reaching for the wine bottle in the ice bucket. "Mind if we join you?" He pulled out the bottle and shook it. It was empty. "Looks like you two had a pretty good time tonight."

The women looked at each other and started giggling. Michael sighed and looked at his watch. "It's late anyway." He pulled up the fourth chair and wedged himself up to the crowded table. "We wanted to talk with you anyway."

Delia drained the last of her wine and smiled. "About what?"

"Well, you two have been patient beyond expectation, and Thomas and I figured it was safe enough to bring you fully into what's happening with the Samson Effect."

Delia's mouth flew open, and she looked at Hanna with a look of genuine surprise on her face, which Hanna parroted. "Really?"

"Really," Thomas answered, taking Hanna's hand. "Thank you for putting up with us."

After telling them about the plant's new seeds and their planned trip to the lab in a few hours, Delia leaped to her feet and swooned, steadied by Michael's arm. "This calls for a toast. I'll be right back with a bottle of wine."

"Let's hold off until tomorrow night, okay?" Michael said with a touch of concern in his voice.

"Nonsense! This is too big." She took a step and staggered.

"At least let me get the wine, then. You come sit down."

"No!" Everyone looked at her when she exclaimed. She smoothed her blouse with her palms and took deliberate steps to the sliding door. "I'll be fine." She didn't wait for a response but kept walking with dogged determination.

The three eased uncomfortably into their chairs, knowing it would be futile to try to stop her from her mission. "Guess you can see which one of us had the better part of the bottle," Hanna said sheepishly.

Thomas and Michael answered Hanna's endless questions about the Samson Effect with zeal. After ten minutes, Michael looked at his watch and stood. "I'd better make sure she's all right."

No sooner had the words left his lips, than he saw Delia enter the media room carrying a bottle of champagne. She stepped onto the veranda and held the bottle between her legs. When she popped the cork, champagne bubbled out. She brought the bottle to her lips, trying to capture as much as she could.

"I thought this called for a real toast."

Hanna giggled and extended her glass, receiving as much champagne on her arm as in her glass. The men smiled and extended their glasses as well. With their glasses full, Michael helped Delia to her seat and offered a toast. "To the sweet reward of costly perseverance." They raised their glasses and sipped their champagne. Five minutes later, Thomas helped Michael carry Delia to bed.

* * * *

At ten till six in the morning, the four met the botanist at a side entrance to the lab. Michael and Thomas had made a half-hearted attempt to talk the women into waiting for them at the house; but after they heard about the seeds, the men knew it was futile. Michael introduced everyone to Rachel, who warmly returned their greetings before leading them to her office.

Once in her office, sipping the fresh coffee she had offered, they seated themselves around her desk. All eyes locked onto the potted plant sitting on the corner of her desk. Thomas looked at the delicate flowers that bloomed at the end of thin bamboo-like stalks. Any other day, he would have confidently sworn it was an orchid.

Rachel glowed over the interest they showed in her plant. "Isn't it beautiful?" They silently nodded, lost for words.

"Is this the …" Michael was too overwhelmed to finish his question.

A puzzled look covered Rachel's face for a moment before being replaced by a comprehending smile. "Oh no, this is my prized orchid." She gently touched her fingertips to the flowers. "It's one of the rarest in the world. I only bring it here for special guests."

Thomas's shoulders, along with the others', instantly sagged. Rachel looked hurt but quickly recovered. "I suppose you're anxious to see the product of the seed you've entrusted to me. I want you to know it's garnered a lot of interest among the staff. It wasn't easy to dodge their questions. It was only when I took the lab director into my confidence that he blessed my secretive work."

"You told someone about it? But you promised. I specifically asked you—"

"I know, I know, but something like this is hard to keep hidden. It doesn't exactly blend in with anything else." She paused. Everyone's attention was riveted to her. "It was your promise of full disclosure and collaboration that actually swayed the director to give me the freedom I've needed to nourish it with the secrecy you've insisted on."

Michael was clearly struggling over her decision to involve someone else, in spite of her promises not to. Thomas knew Michael was wondering the same thing he was wondering: how many others knew about the plant?

Rachel ended the awkward silence by standing and gesturing to the door. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you what I mean about it not being able to blend in." She stepped to the door, followed by the group. Thomas felt like he was about to enter a new, unexplored tomb. In a few seconds, they found themselves standing in a greenhouse full of trees and plants in full bloom. The heavy, wet air was a noticeable contrast to the cool night air in which they had arrived.

Rachel stepped through the maze of plants and stopped next to the plant they had all come to see. She didn't need to point it out. With only a few steps into the room, everyone saw the plant they knew had come from the thick seed. Rachel was right; it truly was like nothing they had ever seen.

"We've dubbed it, 'The Burning Bush.'" Rachel stepped aside to let the four eager people examine it more closely. It was a small shrub planted in a five-gallon container. The trunk broke out in all directions about an inch above the soil. The branches looked like a handful of millipedes scattering in every direction. Tall, thin, green leaves shot horizontally up along the branches. They were as narrow as fern leaves but grew between six and ten inches long. None was at an angle; they all grew straight up.

As Thomas reached out to touch the leaves, the slight breeze from his hands caused the leaves to dance. The leaves themselves were dark green with a burgundy tint to them.

"Watch this," Rachel said. She reminded Thomas of a child who had found a strange bug along the creek and was eagerly coaxing people to witness her good fortune. She picked up a clipboard that hung on the wall and began waving it back and forth a few inches from the plant.

The leaves caught the breeze and began dancing. With the light reflecting off the leave's red and green sheen, Thomas instantly understood just how aptly they had named it. The leaves looked like flickering flames burning the bush. As the breeze died away, so did the botanical flames.

Everyone was speechless.

"Well?" Rachel finally asked. "What do you think? Didn't I tell you it was unlike anything you've ever seen?"

"Yes you did," Michael answered in awe. He stared at the plant so intently he looked like he was in a trance. He reached for the pot and hefted it into his arms. "Thank you," he said, without breaking his gaze from the plant.

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. "When you share your findings on the plant with me, that will be thanks enough."

Thomas cringed. He knew it was coming eventually, and when it did, sparks would fly. He took a step back and waited for the fireworks to start.

Michael broke his gaze from the plant and looked at Rachel. His hesitation was just enough to let Thomas know this was going to be harder for him than he thought. "Rachel, I … we need to—"

"You'd better not be telling me what it sounds like you're telling me. We had an agreement. You promised."

"And I will follow through on that promise. This plant is more important to

Israel's national security than you could imagine."

"Spare me your cloak-and-dagger story. We had an agreement, and I mean to

hold you to it."

As if summoned by the power of her mind, a security guard entered the greenhouse. He stopped about ten feet away and stood silently, as if waiting for Rachel's order to attack. Thomas saw the pistol holstered at his side and began to feel the fingers of circumstance wrestle control from him once again. Banking on the premise that they were all on the same side, more or less, he decided to defuse the confrontation and negotiate a deal everyone could live with.

"Rachel, Michael's right. He should have been more open with you, but he was trying to protect you. A number of people have died over this plant already." He paused to study her reaction, but her determination did not waver. "You can go with us and when we're sure it's safe, you can have everything you need to begin your research today."

Thomas's spirits rose when she seemed to contemplate his offer. No one made a sound. They looked at her and waited. "I don't know," she said hesitantly. "I'd better get the director on the phone." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Before Thomas could think of a convincing way to stop her, the security guard started walking toward them. Rachel's fingers paused on the cell's buttons. "Please take that plant and hold it while we sort this out."

The guard kept walking, passing by Michael and the plant. A look of anger crossed Rachel's face. "I said … wait a minute. Who are you? Where's Matt?" Her anger melted into confusion, and then her eyes grew wide as the guard reached for his gun and leveled it at her head. She stumbled backwards, pleading through barely coherent words. "No... please..."

The gunshot echoed in the greenhouse, causing the four of them to gasp. Thomas watched Rachel slump to the floor and then followed the security guard with his eyes toward Michael. Out of instinct, he folded Hanna into his arms and turned his body so he was between her and the guard.

Three more men entered the greenhouse where the guard had entered. One had a rifle trained on the group. When Thomas saw the other two, he felt his knees weaken. It was as if he was caught in a nightmare, unable to flee from the monster.

"Azim!"

"Hello, Dr. Hamilton. I must commend you and Michael on a job well done. I knew my faith in your abilities wasn't misplaced. Rajah, please get the plant."

Michael offered no resistance. He handed the plant to Rajah and slumped like a man thoroughly beaten. Only when his narrow eyes lifted to Delia did Thomas see a semblance of strength in him. Venom saturated his words. "You really had me fooled."

Delia vigorously shook her head. "Michael, I—"

Michael turned his back, stopping her in midsentence. He tried to remain stoic, but his quivering lips betrayed him. Delia looked shocked rather than angry. She closed her eyes in resignation, but she couldn't keep a lone tear from falling when he turned his back on her.

"Enough!" Azim cried out. He nodded to the security guard. "Give us five minutes, and then take care of them." He gestured to Rachel's body. "Take care of her too."

The guard nodded and walked over to a wheelbarrow leaning against the wall behind him. He wheeled it next to Rachel's body and then looked at his watch.

"Time to come home, sister. You and I have a lot to talk about." He turned and led her toward the exit, whispering something into her ear. Rajah and the other armed man fell in behind.

Thomas felt Hanna pull away from his embrace and take a step toward Azim. He attempted to pull her back, afraid Azim needed little encouragement to put a bullet into her on the spot. She shook off his hand and kept walking.

"What about me, Azim?"

The moment turned surreal for Thomas. Hanna smiled and had the worshipful look of a prom queen enamored with her quarterback boyfriend. Azim stopped and looked back at her. Hanna took it as her invitation to run to him. The love she had in her eyes for him stabbed at Thomas again and again. He let her slip from his fingers like quicksilver, feeling totally naked and exposed. As if she wanted to cast one more stone at his heart, she turned and gave him a wicked smile.

She reached her hand to Azim, who wrinkled his nose at it and scoffed. "Get away from me, Jewish swine."

The smile faded from Hanna's face. "What? Azim, I love you." She reached for his hand again but he used it to backhand her cheek. The force of the blow made her stagger backward a couple of steps before it sent her sprawling on her backside.

Thomas jogged to her and knelt down. Anger bubbled inside, but he didn't know quite where to aim it. He reached to gently wipe the blood from her swollen lips but she pulled her head away in defiance. The word choked from his throat. "You?"

Contempt oozed from Azim. "You think I'd have anything to do with an Israeli sow? The thought makes me sick." He turned on his heels and led the rest unceremoniously to the door. "Five minutes," he said to the lingering guard before exiting.

Hanna cried out and sobbed, unable, or unwilling, to hide the tears. Michael looked at Thomas, his eyes widening in comprehension, then streaked with terror. "Delia," he whispered. He turned to go after her in spite of the armed guard blocking his path.

Thomas grabbed his arm. "No, Michael. Not yet." He felt Michael tug against his arm but ease up as he sized up the guard. Resistance oozed from him, leaving him limp. He turned to Hanna and looked down at her. He summoned the vilest substance he could and spit it on her face. Hanna didn't look at him. She still sought after Azim, holding an arm outstretched toward the door.

Her betrayal ate at Thomas. It took all of his will to replace the humiliation and hurt with anger. He pulled Michael aside, leaving Hanna to wallow in her own broken spirit.

Thomas checked his watch. "We've got less than five minutes to clear our heads and find a way out of this or Delia is as good as dead."

Michael nodded.

Thomas hoped his friend's head was clearing. It would take every ounce of mental prowess they had to get out of there alive. He subtly surveyed the room for anything that would give them a fighting chance. The wheelbarrow and Rachel's body were next to the guard, about seven feet in front of them. Rachel's cell phone had cracked into two pieces when it fell and lay a few feet away. Thomas was growing uneasy, fighting the thought that everything was futile.

Then he noticed the shelf under the table next to Rachel. A pair of manual hedge trimmers with twelve-inch blades rested on the shelf. The crude outline of a plan formed in his head as he quickly surveyed the rest of the room. He glanced at his watch. Two minutes left. He prayed the guard would hold off, taking the five-minute countdown ordered by Azim literally.

He walked next to Michael and nodded toward the space behind him. "See that table?" Michael looked at a table full of plants about six feet behind them and nodded. "I'm going to go over and check Rachel's body. When you see me place my fingers on her neck to check for a pulse, I want you to run as fast as you can for that table, flip it over, and hide behind it."

"Why? What are you going to do?"

Thomas checked his watch. "No time to explain. Just trust me."

Michael looked into his eyes for a moment and then nodded. Thomas turned and headed for Rachel's body. His plan would result in their salvation or their massacre. Success hinged on perfect timing.

The guard thrust his gun at Thomas and babbled something in Arabic. Thomas looked at him as he knelt next to Rachel. The guard glanced at his watch and smiled, keeping his gun trained on him.

Thomas took a deep breath, hoping Michael was watching. He held out his fingers and applied them to Rachel's neck. The silence seemed to last an eternity but he finally heard Michael's footsteps pounding the floor followed by a loud crash. Trusting the guard had averted his attention to the commotion, he reached for the hedge trimmers and in one swift motion swung around as he stood to his feet. When he stopped, all twelve inches of both blades stuck into the guard's abdomen. He and the guard stood face-to-face, eye-to-eye. Without blinking, Thomas pulled the handles apart with all his strength and felt the blades separate inside the guard.

The guard's mouth fell open, and Thomas watched the life fade from his eyes. He heard the pistol hit the floor and released the trimmers. The guard crumpled to the floor, and Thomas picked up the pistol.

The greenhouse was silent. He turned to see Michael's head slowly appear from behind the table. Then he turned to Hanna, whose cries were replaced by an occasional sniffle. She stood and walked to him.

He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her, yet at the same time he wanted to use his own backhand to give her lips a twin cut to match the one Azim gave her. When she held her arms open, his own arms opened as if they had a mind of their own. Her body pressed against his.

"Everything's going to be okay."

When she squeezed her arms around him, his body nearly melted. She held him for a moment and then pulled away from him just enough to look into his eyes. She smiled as a tear fell from each eye. She gently ran her hands down each of his arms.

"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

The pace of her hands quickened. It registered in Thomas's mind what she was doing, but not in time to stop her. She gripped his hand and pulled the pistol's muzzle into her stomach. Her fingers found his trigger finger and it was over. She fell forward into his arms.

His reaction surprised him. He felt pain and hatred, but they were overshadowed by pity. He knelt and laid her body peacefully onto the floor. Michael ran over and stared. Thomas stood, tucked the pistol into his waistband, and walked to the door. "Let's find Delia."




Read The Samson Effect in BookBuzzr format now. I will unlock a new chapter each week as I post new chapters to the Samson Effect serial release blog.



To Purchase The Samson Effect

Paperback: The Samson Effect
Hardcover: The Samson Effect