“A necessary operational transition, dear. In this world, true power does not belong to generals who greet civil politicians and beg for annual budget allocations. True power belongs to men who possess the keys that control the strategic balance of the world.”
Caldwell pointed his cigarette at the titanium case in his hand:
“Your grandfather Emilio was a genius, Laura. But he was a naive sentimental. He believed that America’s nuclear deterrence should be locked in the DNA of an innocent girl who would devote her life to designing living rooms in Coral Gables.”
Caldwell took a slow step towards me, looking down to my stomach with a predatory and calculating hunger:
“Do you know how much a private sovereign consortium of Zurich and Singapore is paying for master bioquantum root ciphers for the Columbia-class fleet?”
“**A thousand four hundred and twenty million dollars. **”
Caldwell noted the *M/V Sovereign Tide* open-load hatch:
“Within the number one warehouse is an automated cryogenic bioextraction room designed by Dr. Sebastian Kane. The procedure will take exactly four minutes. We will extract the amniotic stem cells that contain the encryptions of the Chronos Project, synthesize the master keys and transmit the data via satellite to our servers in Switzerland.”
“And my son?” I asked, letting my voice plunge into that absolute and terrifying silence that precedes a hurricane.
Caldwell shrugged slightly, with a gesture of disdain:
“It’s a biological necessity, Laura. The extraction will terminate the pregnancy. But you'll get generous compensation. I will deposit fifty million dollars in an offshore trust in Grand Cayman to your name, and you can live the rest of your days in our family village on Lake Como.”
