The Doomsday Device Read Free

climbed in. The back of the vehicle was edged in leather and a gold colored metal which he believed probably actually was gold.
    The vehicle started and he sat back and relaxed.
    They headed towards the middle of the main shopping district in Dubai. This country was a place of extremes. People still rode camels in this country although others just as happily drove vehicles. The predominant religion was the Moslem faith and here women were required to wear the traditional clothing; the abaya, a black ankle length gown that covered the head. At the same time this was a place of immense wealth and money created freedom. The freedom to build, the freedom to control.
    One sign of that freedom dominated the landscape directly in front of Wolff. The world’s tallest building – the Burj Khalifa – rose directly from the city before him.
    Wolff – or Phillips as he was temporarily known – felt a tiny sense of pride that he was about to attend a meeting in this structure. He stifled the emotion. Pride was a weakness and a weakness that could kill. He forced himself to look out impassively at the passing streets.
    Soon the vehicle began to draw close to the undercover parking area.
    “Excuse me,” Wolff said.
    “Yes, sir?”
    “I’ll walk the last few feet. Thank you.”
    The car drew to a halt. The driver opened his door and Wolff stepped out into the terrible heat once more. He looked up at the Burj Khalifa. Truly this was an amazing structure. Not only was it the world’s tallest skyscraper, but it also held records for highest restaurant, highest mosque and highest nightclub.
    It held the record for the world’s second highest swimming pool, but Wolff doubted the building’s owners lost little sleep over not securing that particular record.
    A man walked from the main reception of the building to meet him. He wore a suit and unlike many of the other people Wolff had seen here, he did not appear to be an Arab. Wolff suspected he was European.
    “Mr. Phillips?” the man said.
    “Yes?”
    “I am Jean-Pierre Bertrand,” he said, shaking hands with Wolff. “I notice you decided to examine the structure from the outside.”
    “It’s most impressive,” Wolff replied.
    “It is indeed,” Bertrand said. “Our meeting will take place on the one hundred and thirtieth floor. I think you will find it a most impressive view.”
    Wolff nodded. Bertrand led him through the main foyer to one of the elevators. The attendant pushed a button and they ascended the structure at great speed.
    That’s right , Wolff thought. This structure also holds the record for the world’s fastest elevators.
    Another record broken.
    The elevator came to a precise halt. Bertrand led him out into a foyer and they passed two businessmen leaving a meeting. No doubt they were quite reputable. Most of the dealings that took place in this structure were reputable.
    Most meetings.
    Some like the one he was about to attend could not be termed reputable by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, disreputable would probably be putting it kindly. Wolff was ready to meet with an individual that would make any Interpol or FBI agent’s mouth water with anticipation.
    Bertrand arrived at a door and knocked on it three times. After a moment, it opened and a servant showed them into the room. It had a spectacular view of the entire Gulf of Oman.
    This is where my life has brought me , Wolff thought. To the top of the world.
    He was aware of the sense of pride he felt, but he allowed himself to revel in it for a few seconds.
    “Impressive, is it not?” a voice said from behind.
    Wolff turned slowly. The man who had stepped from the room behind him was of average build. He had brown hair and eyes. Possibly about forty years of age. Clean shaven. No distinguishing marks of any noticeable kind.
    “I’m sure you know who I am,” the man said.
    “I do,” Wolff replied. “You are Mercer Todd. I believe you currently hold the number three position on the