At that moment, in a rundown warehouse district on the outskirts of London, a group of men were getting orders from a tall, red haired man with a strong Irish accent.

"In 24 hours, take this package," handing two men a large manila envelope, sealed with common duct tape, "to the address on the outside. Not a moment before. Are you clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. In the meantime, help the other two load the van with the package inside. And be careful. I want no harm to come to what's inside." He laughed. "At least no more than what's already been done."

"Yes, sir."

The two men went inside and helped the other two pick up the black zipped body bag. It wasn't that it was heavy, just dead weight from the package inside. The four men carefully brought the bag out to the waiting van and slid it into the back. The red hair man checked to make sure there was no movement inside the bag, then slammed the doors.

"Okay, Harrison and Thomas, you have your assignment. Don't screw up. That package will start the apocalypse and you had better disappear after the delivery. I have put enough money in the account for you to go to the North Pole if you need to. And don't come out no matter what. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"O'Malley, you and Watson get in the back seats. I'll get in front with the driver. When we get to our destination, I'll help you with the package. It might need some more 'help' before the next part of our journey. Okay, let's go."

The gray van pulled away from the warehouse and entered the M25. After a while, the van turned and entered the M4. It was a quick drive to Bristol, approximately two and a half hours. The Irishman in the front directed the driver to a warehouse near the airport. The van pulled up in front of a loading dock and the Irishman got out and went inside.

After a few minutes, a wide door opened to the side, and the driver was waved into the warehouse and the door closed behind him.

"Okay, now, here is where it gets tricky," the tall Irishman was saying. "We're going to get on a plane for about a 45-minute flight to Belfast. We have to be there and out of the airport before sunrise so that leaves us very little time here to do what we have to do to prepare our package. O'Malley, you and Watson need to get our package out of the van and bring it over to that table over there." He pointed to a stainless-steel table not too far from the van. "Smith, make yourself useful, and help them." He was talking to the driver.

The three men nodded. Opening the door to the van, the tall Irishman noted that the body bag was moving. "Wait! I have to give the package some more 'help' before we move it. I'll be right back." He disappeared into the warehouse office and dug into a desk drawer. Good thing he had asked his friends to have a stash of Pentobarbital in case it was needed. He drew up a healthy dose and went back into the warehouse. Nodding to O'Malley to unzip the bag, he waited until Abbey's arm was visible and injected the full dose. It only took a minute or two for her to quit her movements and become limp again. Motioning to O'Malley to zip the bag back up, he moved away so the three men could now move her to the stainless-steel table.

"Okay, now take this oxygen canister, attach the tubing to it and place the nasal cannula in her nose. Turn the flow on and put the cannister in the bag with her and zip it up. Then place the bag in that casket over there," pointing to a pine box on another table. The men placed the bag in the casket and were about to close the lid when Branden McGann stopped them.

"Wait, there's one thing I have to do." McGann walked over to the table. He unzipped the bag, took the tubing out of Abbey's nose, and took a picture. He then put everything back and rezipped the bag. He shut the casket lid and stepped back so he could take a picture of the closed casket. Now, he had two pictures for the President of the United States. He so loved playing these games. Once that was done, the men were directed to put the casket in the van.

"Time to go. The oxygen will last approximately three hours. Hopefully that will be long enough."

The van left the warehouse and made its way to a rarely used part of the airport where a private plane was waiting. The three men carefully lifted the casket out of the van and shoved it into the belly of the plane. Then the four boarded the plane and took off for Belfast and home.