The visualizer terrifying dreams

For some especially ambitious young men, that ascent was so fast it inspired both envy and admiration. Eugenia mentioned several names, young men who belonged to the secret fraternity. Of course, he knew them all. They were the stars of TV reports, the ones ordinary people envied. Those poor souls would never have such money or influence.

But the rich boys, their story was different. Each had earned not only a fortune but a name, one that opened doors to high politics. Naturally, this information intrigued the young, ambitious manager who was eager to climb another rung on the career ladder.

Stephen believed neither in mysticism nor religion. He believed in the power of money, and in a way, that belief had become his personal creed. His attitude toward people was defined entirely by their financial status. Nothing else interested him. Money was his idol, and he would probably have been ready to commit a crime if it meant advancing his career or securing his future.

After that conversation, Stephen became fascinated by everything connected with the Masons, their symbols, their history, and their secret rituals. As he learned, joining the fraternity required a personal recommendation from an existing member. That wasn’t easy, because the sponsor bore full responsibility for the new initiate, who, once accepted, became a Mason himself.

And that could turn dangerous. Apostates were punished severely. Every so often, Stephen came across newspaper reports about mysterious murders of once-successful young men who, judging by all accounts, had belonged to these secret societies but had somehow betrayed the trust placed in them.

Such murders were never properly investigated; it was practically impossible to trace the people behind them. But those who remained within the order always had money and protection. That was why these secret societies continued to thrive, exerting immense influence on both society and the state.

Still, Stephen’s interests weren’t limited to money. He began seeing Eugenia more often, especially when their boss was away, spending as much time in her company as he could. Their relationship developed quickly, and soon everyone around them, friends, coworkers, noticed. Eugenia apparently had no boyfriend, and it was about time she married. Stephen, too, was ready for something serious. He felt a kindred spirit in her. She was just as calculating as he was.

It was Eugenia who told him that his boss, the junior partner of Goldman Sachs, was one of the lodge’s prominent members. She promised to speak to him about Stephen, hinting that she might get something out of it herself. And she was right, Stephen had begun to think of her as his other half, and if he managed to increase his fortune substantially, he would certainly propose.

But for now, it was too soon. He didn’t have enough money, not for raising children in an elite private school, nor for buying an apartment downtown, where the wealthy lived. Eugenia seemed to understand this well, and so she didn’t rush him.

Chapter 3

To think that someone else can make you happy or unhappy is simply ridiculous.

Siddhartha Gautama (Buddha)

After Stephen Kubrick met Eugenia, his life took a sharp turn. And to him, that turn felt irreversible. It was as if fortune, long asleep somewhere in an attic, had finally noticed the hapless manager. The most unlikely projects he’d long forgotten suddenly began to come together. Clients started finding him. His phone wouldn’t stop ringing, and that, most likely, was why even his boss began to take notice, though before, he’d done his best to ignore Stephen altogether.

The boss summoned him to his office and invited him to play a round of golf at a private country club some twenty miles outside the city. Stephen wasn’t much of a golfer, but it would have been both impolite and unwise to refuse, so he agreed. Besides, Eugenia had promised to speak with his boss in advance about his intention to join the Masonic lodge and become an active member.

It’s believed that golf originated in Scotland, invented by shepherds who used wooden staffs to drive stones into rabbit holes. Over time, those staff evolved into golf clubs. Their shape changed, and they became metal. The rules changed as well, simpler now than before, and took their final form in Scotland in the early nineteenth century. From there, the game spread rapidly across the world, reaching even the most remote corners.

Mostly, it was a game for aristocrats, since it required large plots of land that had to be specially prepared, something the poor couldn’t afford. By the late nineteenth century, golf had finally made its way to the United States, which at the time was in the midst of explosive economic growth. The country was full of wealthy men eager to revive the traditions of their ancestors.

In America, golf became a setting where the nation’s richest and most powerful men gathered: bankers, insurers, financiers, businessmen, merchants. That’s why so many private, exclusive golf clubs appeared across the U.S., places where these people could meet to discuss the most important and confidential matters affecting both the country and society. Most of them were excellent golfers, and sometimes they even played for money. Belonging to such a club was prestigious, but admission was by recommendation only, an invitation extended by a current member.

Stephen’s trip to the country club exceeded his boldest expectations. It turned out his boss wasn’t only a strict manager but also a man with a fine sense of humor. He greeted Stephen warmly and introduced him to the small circle of their community, all smiles and courtesies, even toward strangers he barely knew.

Some of the invited guests Stephen recognized. They were the so-called “cream of society”, people who held in their hands not only the fate of that city but, in a sense, of the entire United States.

They spoke to him as an equal, showing neither arrogance nor condescension. After the round of golf, in which Stephen didn’t perform particularly well, the host invited him to the bar. On the second floor were small booths designed for private conversations. That’s where they sat down to talk while the other club members continued their game.

“Tell me, Stephen,” the boss asked after they’d raised their glasses to the meeting and the fine day outdoors, “you did know that Eugenia is my illegitimate daughter, didn’t you?”

Stephen’s look of complete bewilderment was genuine. He had no idea. Eugenia had never mentioned that her boss was her father. Had he known, his life would have taken a very different course. If Stephen had learned the truth earlier, he never would have approached her at that event where they met. But it was too late to turn back now.

“Eugenia’s told me a lot about you,” the boss went on, “and I tend to agree with her. You could have a remarkable career and rise quickly, if you don’t make any foolish mistakes and if you listen to my advice, as well as to the counsel of the men who are members of this club.”

He paused briefly, then added, “And I can even help you with that.”

Stephen took another shot of whiskey and nodded. He knew better than to interrupt his boss once he started talking. Being no fool, Stephen had learned the value of listening to people, an instinct that had served him well in his line of work, which demanded not only knowledge of financial and legal matters but also a keen understanding of the people who were his clients or interlocutors.

“To begin with, I want to entrust you with a matter of a personal nature,” the boss said, fixing his eyes on his golf partner. “If you handle it well, a brilliant future awaits you. This could be the perfect start to your career, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you succeed.”

He smiled faintly. “Especially since you might one day become part of my family,” the banker added.

“Of course, I’ll do my best to help,” Stephen replied. “But could you fill me in on the details of this upcoming… operation?” He was intrigued by the mysterious tone in which the man spoke; his boss had never addressed him that way before.

He couldn’t wait to hear what Aaron Schleiter, his direct superior and now his confidant in this private conversation, was about to tell him.

Chapter 4

When the mind is clear, joy follows you like a shadow and never leaves you.

Siddhartha Gautama (Buddha)

Although General Odintsov held a high post in the FSB and no longer took part in planning or conducting operations, he still wanted to stay informed about what his subordinates were working on. That was why he made a habit of meeting them in informal settings. There, he could behave more naturally, and his officers didn’t feel that same intimidating authority he projected in his luxurious office at the famous Lubyanka building.

A promotion loomed on the horizon, and his current career depended on how successfully ongoing operations unfolded. And his career, in turn, determined the fate of the officers he had been pulling up after him, helping them climb the ranks. The more successful his protégés were, the more successful he was himself. That was why he paid such attention to personnel matters; his subordinates’ loyalty and competence could help him reach new heights. Andrei Yuryevich was an ambitious man and had no intention of retiring before his time.

He had friends in a small private club on the outskirts of Moscow. The place offered all the masculine amusements befitting the status of senior FSB officers who sometimes needed to relax and have a drink in good company. The grounds were closed off and guarded by an external security service. No outsiders or journalists could get in, so the “white-collar elite” could feel at ease there, at least as much as current conditions allowed.

Back in the wild nineties, the club had been built for foreigners whose embassies were nearby. But times changed. The foreigners withdrew behind their own fences as Russia began pursuing a more independent foreign policy than it had under former President Boris Nikolayevich Yeltsin. These days, they no longer feel as confident as before and compare modern Russian politics to the Soviet era, when foreigners were treated quite differently.

Over time, the clientele changed, too. Now the place was visited by a few Russian oligarchs looking to unwind and by officers from various government agencies, everyone from senior army brass to heads of intelligence services. They all knew each other, which made it possible to relax and behave freely within those walls.

No confidential information could leak out of this establishment, so FSB officers could speak freely about matters that were secret and off-limits to the general public.

This time, General Odintsov wanted to talk to his men about the numerous secret biolabs that NATO countries had set up near Russia’s borders. The leadership had assigned him to oversee this area, and he wanted to make a strong impression by staging a high-profile case against those Russian citizens and organizations that had been helping foreigners develop this work in violation of national laws.

The security services had learned that certain interested parties were collecting biological materials from Russian citizens to send to their Western patrons and handlers. It was dangerous. The United States, they knew, was developing genuine biological weapons, designed to infect people of Slavic descent or those from the North Caucasus with deadly viruses, pathogens, and bacteria.

Unfortunately, the Western world continued to undermine the foundations of the Russian state, using unconventional methods to influence the masses and stir unrest within Russian society.

It was around noon. The day was cool and sunny, hinting that autumn was near. Leaves had started to fall; nature was preparing for the cold. Andrei Yuryevich arrived a little earlier than his comrades and subordinates, deliberately so.

The owner of the country club greeted him personally. They had known each other for years and helped each other out in different situations. Once, Odintsov had arranged for the man’s daughter to receive a free two-room apartment in the city center, and the owner still owed him for that.

In return, the man discreetly kept the general informed of what the guests were saying when the intelligence officers weren’t around. Their cooperation was mutually beneficial.

“Andrei Yuryevich, please, come to our hut,” the owner said in a syrupy tone, smiling. “Care for some mushrooms with vodka?”

“My wife pickled them herself, you know how good she is at it,” the burly man added, knowing the general’s fondness for homemade preserves.

“Well then, show me what you’ve got,” Odintsov said, stepping into the spacious lounge of the small, cozy hotel where a handful of guests and VIPs stayed.

In the past decade, Russia has learned to build such hotels, whose service level rivaled that of Europe.

“By the way, make sure my driver gets something to eat,” Andrei Yuryevich ordered. “You know how many kilometers we sometimes have to cover,” he added. “The driver’s a person too.”

He clapped the accompanying officer on the shoulder.

“Everything’s ready,” the owner replied, smiling at his guest. “I’ve had a couple of tables set for you in the café downstairs. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate, order whatever you like. My staff will take good care of you.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. Service at this private compound was truly first-class. The chefs could prepare extravagant dishes found only in the best foreign restaurants. Where the owner had found such talent was anyone’s guess, but they were genuine masters of their craft.

That was why Andrei Yuryevich often stopped by for lunch. The food was delicious and reasonably priced, and the conversation with the owner always lifted his spirits.

“The guests will start arriving in about half an hour,” the general informed him. “We’ll do things as usual. First, we’ll have a heart-to-heart talk and a good meal. Then we’ll head to the open shooting range here on the grounds, break some clays, and afterward, we’ll relax in the sauna.”

“So start heating it up around five o’clock,” Andrei Yuryevich ordered, wanting the gathering to go off flawlessly.

He felt like the true master of the place, though technically he didn’t own it. Everything here depended on his will and whims, and the actual proprietor of the hotel and the closed compound knew that better than anyone. Real power was invisible, and it belonged to men like them.

Chapter 5

There is no crime graver than hatred. No illness is worse than the body, and no good is greater than Peace.

Siddhartha Gautama (Buddha)

Once everyone had gathered, General Odintsov took the floor.

“The U.S. needs a conflict with Russia as a proving ground for testing the scenario of an armed confrontation with China. Washington is in a hurry. If by 2027 they fail to deal with us by igniting wars across the post-Soviet space, then very soon the U.S. will face an inevitable defeat in the grand geopolitical game. That could lead to anything, up to and including the collapse of the United States, just as it happened to the Soviet Union in the last century, and we, as you remember, were not prepared for that.“It’s no secret to anyone that conflict with the United States is inevitable,” he said.

“Even now, we may be witnessing enormous geopolitical shifts. According to our estimates, by the end of this decade, China will surpass the U.S. in key economic, demographic, and military-political indicators. When that happens, no one will take the U.S. seriously anymore, as they do today. Countries will begin abandoning dollar settlements, and the American economy will collapse like a colossus on clay feet.

“This pressure will come from all directions, political, external economic, and social. But the greatest danger lies in medical and biological aggression, through the deployment of numerous secret biolaboratories beyond our borders, along the country’s vast frontier.“That’s why we must be ready for growing pressure on our country, as China’s strategic partner, from the Pentagon and other foreign-policy structures of Western civilization,” he continued. “No one intends to surrender without a fight,” he added.

“All this could lead to collapse in other spheres, economic, financial, and social,” he noted.“Such operations are covert and invisible. The damage they can cause is enormous, and epidemics could trigger catastrophic losses, including the deaths of people and animals,” said the general, looking intently at the officers seated opposite him.

“Vasily Vsevolodovich, brief the officers on the complex environment in which they’ll have to operate, developing countermeasures to these urgent threats that have become the new reality for our long-suffering country,” requested Andrey Yuryevich, inviting the FSB colonel to speak.

Vasily Vsevolodovich was General Odintsov’s closest friend and ally. They understood each other with half a word and always supported one another, whatever storms shook the political landscape or whatever games higher authorities played. He was also due for promotion soon, and for that, a successful foreign operation was desperately needed.

That was why the two senior officers had to come up with something quickly. Life itself seemed to suggest scenarios for their next moves. Carrying out a successful operation in such a tense geopolitical climate was entirely possible and would benefit both the state and society.

“I want to brief you on the deployment of the Pentagon’s secret biolabs near Russia’s borders,” Vasily Vsevolodovich began.

“As you know, the Pentagon has established such labs in twenty-five countries around the world. Most of them are located right next to our borders, in the territories of former Soviet republics, especially in Georgia and Ukraine.

“It’s no secret that U.S. military personnel and scientists from various countries are creating bacteria, viruses, and toxins in these closed facilities, in other words, new weapons of mass destruction. Their work is conducted under the strictest secrecy, as part of a program of biological experiments known as SVER. Intelligence reports that the ‘Biological Threat Reduction Program’ already exceeds two billion dollars, financed by the Defense Threat Reduction Agency (DTRA).

“Representatives of that agency try to reassure us, claiming their goal is to detect new viruses and develop methods of neutralizing them. But in reality, that’s not what they’re doing,” Vasily Vsevolodovich Morozov continued.

After his remarks, Andrey Yuryevich Odintsov spoke again.

“I’d like to introduce you to the First-Class Counselor of the Embassy of the Russian Federation in the Republic of Georgia, Ruslan Albertovich Filimonov. He’ll give you an example of the troubling activity that’s emerged along the land section of the Russian-Georgian border,” he said, presenting a new man the FSB officers had not seen before.“What they’re doing is developing real biological weapons,” Andrey Yuryevich picked up where his subordinate had left off.

“I hope your remarks will not go unnoticed,” he added, turning to the officers listening attentively to their commander.“Ruslan Albertovich, please speak to our officer corps and describe the current situation,” Andrey Yuryevich invited.

Ruslan Albertovich Filimonov was an active intelligence officer working in Georgia under diplomatic cover. This status allowed him to supervise a broad network of informants across the country. Nothing escaped his close attention, and in his view, the threat of biological warfare emanating from Georgia was quite real.

Adjusting his thick horn-rimmed glasses, Ruslan Albertovich continued the briefing that Vasily Vsevolodovich and Andrey Yuryevich had begun just minutes earlier, delving deeper into the specifics and operational details of the forthcoming mission.

“The greatest threat to our country,” he said, “comes from the Richard Lugar Center for Public Health Research, the leading secret biolab, located seventeen kilometers from the American airbase Vaziani, near the Georgian capital.

“As you can imagine, the anthrax, tularemia, and Crimean-Congo hemorrhagic fever spores they handle there could cause epidemics and mass infections of both humans and animals. It’s no coincidence that research at the Lugar Center is conducted by military biologists from the U.S. Army’s Medical Research Unit in Georgia (USAMRU-G), together with private American contractors.“This center studies bio-agents that once ravaged the fields of our country in the distant past or are typical for nations with tropical climates.

“By the way, you can find more detailed information about this center and its experiments, on freezing and contaminating human blood, on this website,” said Ruslan Albertovich, then wrote the site’s address on the whiteboard standing near the café exit.

“Vasily Vsevolodovich, write down that site name. We’ll need to study it later,” said General Odintsov, who paid great attention to detail.

“Remember the Ken Livenbrook case we handled a couple of years ago? Our experts believe that the site was created by those reckless lunatics who escaped from the I. M. Rabinovich Clinic, and those who were connected to that case.“I already know that site,” replied Vasily Vsevolodovich.

“And now they’ve found themselves a new occupation, much like Julian Assange, making trouble for our foreign adversaries: American military personnel and their private contractors developing that monstrous biological weapon.

“I don’t know where they’re getting their informants, but the information there is constantly updated, filled with new exposés that stir up scandal in Western society, alarming ordinary citizens and infuriating intelligence agencies.

Do you remember what became of her?”“We should probably renew our cooperation with those guys,” said Andrey Yuryevich. “If I recall, last time we managed to reach them through Vera Ivanovna Maslova.

“Perhaps it’s time to meet with her again,” he added.

“I believe she’s still working at the I. M. Rabinovich Clinic,” replied the FSB colonel, who hadn’t received reports about the clinic’s activities for a long time and couldn’t say for certain.

“They say you can’t step into the same river twice,” said Vasily Vsevolodovich with a faint smile.

“But I’ll give it a try.”

Chapter 6

You won’t find the answer in the sky; seek it in your own heart.

Siddhartha Gautama (Buddha)

Kirill couldn’t sleep. He lay alone on the double bed, arms and legs sprawled in all directions. The moment he closed his eyes, nightmares came, so he tried not to sleep at all and took sleeping pills instead.

In that half-conscious state, he often slipped into something like nirvana, and his soul would try to untangle all those riddles he’d wrestled with for so long in real life, together with his partners and friends.

It all began right after he started investigating the activities of several companies working in bioengineering, especially those linked to the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, which was financing research in that particular field of science.

The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation was established only recently, in 2000. Yet in a short time, its capital reached just over fifty billion dollars, an enormous sum. Officially, the foundation proclaimed lofty goals: improving global healthcare, reducing poverty, and expanding educational opportunities in medicine and bioengineering. In reality, however, it pursued a single aim: to develop a global concept for reducing the planet’s population.

For some reason, all these people believed the Earth’s main problem came down to one thing: explosive population growth. The planet’s resources were finite and, in their view, would be exhausted by the end of the twenty-first century.

If Kirill had possessed the kind of money these people, the planet’s so-called “golden billion”, kept hidden in countless banks, foundations, and securities, he would have invested it in exploring the Solar System and building colonies on its planets. But they thought differently, and that frightened him. Their sights were set on bioterrorism.

He discovered that the foundation’s board of directors included the heads of major banks, transnational corporations, and world-renowned scientists from a wide range of disciplines, even former officials with all the right connections.