The Genesis Plague (2010) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Christians who saw the US invasion of Iraq as fulfilment of End Times’ prophecy heralding Christ’s return.
    As Stokes anticipated, things soon turned serious when Ms Peters turned her queries to the contributions that funded both his global mission and this extraordinary construction project. Venturing into the minefield, the reporter had smartly turned up her charm. It began with some innocent nibbling on the tip of her pen - a mildly seductive act that Stokes had to admit was a potent distraction.
    ‘As you know, your past and current political affiliations have many speculating as to how the church raises its funds. There’s rumours that a major network is producing a scathing primetime expose which suggests that large transfers have been deposited into your accounts. Transfers that can’t be traced -‘
    Stokes held up a hand. ‘Ms Peters, let 60 Minutes speculate all it wants. Success always draws detractors. But I suggest you stick to the facts.’
    ‘Which are?’
    Feisty, he thought. He sighed, tapped his thumbs together. ‘Our major contributors and benefactors choose to remain anonymous,’ Stokes simply replied, ‘just how Christ himself would have wanted it.’
    ‘I see,’ she relented. Some more notes. She paused the micro-recorder. ‘Off the record … do you miss all that?’ She pointed with the pen at the military photos. ‘The action, the glory?’
    Spoken like a true civilian. ‘Memories of war aren’t like fond recollections of one’s first love.’
    ‘True. An ex-girlfriend might take your favourite sweatshirt and CDs … but not your leg.’
    It was common knowledge that Stokes’s military career derailed in 2003 when a bomb in the road outside Mosul had claimed his right leg just below the knee. However, Stokes could tell by her reddening cheeks that she was well aware that the thin line of etiquette had just been crossed. Smiling tightly, he replied, ‘I suppose you’re right. Every soldier leaves a piece of himself on the battlefield. Some of us, more literally so.’
    She nibbled the pen with more zeal and back-pedalled with, ‘It’s just so amazing how after all of that … with all that you saw … you found God. I’ve read that it was after your …’ a pause to hunt for the right word ‘… accident … that He began speaking to you. Is that true?’
    ‘That’s right. And I have no doubt you’ve also read that my critics attribute my revelation to post-traumatic stress disorder.’ Stokes’s pundits didn’t merely cite the mental and physical trauma he’d suffered from his violent disfigurement. They even went as far as to blame the drug pyridostigmine bromide, or PB, which had been given to US troops during the 1st Gulf War to counteract the effects of chemical agents, such as nerve gas. By the way she smiled, he could tell he’d stolen some of her thunder. ‘Utter nonsense,’ he said loudly for the micro-recorder.
    ‘So you were chosen by God? You’re a prophet?’
    ‘Something like that, I suppose.’ His posture became more guarded.
    The manner in which she now set down her pen implied that her next question would be off the record. ‘But you hear Him? When He talks to you, I mean.’
    ‘Loud and clear,’ Stokes soberly confirmed, casting his eyes heavenward.
    She stared at him in wonderment for a long moment. ‘Wow.’
    Now he could see her feline eyes subtly assessing him in impure ways. Charisma was like catnip for ambitious women like Ms Peters. Despite forty-six years and his mild ‘handicap’, he’d vigilantly maintained a physique that was nothing but lean muscle stretched over a wide six-foot frame. Strong jaw, a full head of hair that was still cropped into a high-and-tight, and a smooth bronze tan that made his green eyes flash. No doubt Ms Peters’s article would make note of his commanding presence. After all, there was no denying that the right image had buttressed his star power.
    She snatched up the pen again, turned on the