CHAPTER SEVEN
Roger Carmichael did not like to go through a half forgotten file because some American wished it and especially if that American quoted that the Officials Security act no longer applied since most of the people involved were either dead or senile. He also did not like to be reminded that his own grandfather had died sacrificing himself for freedom.
Nor did he like to be reminded that his own relatives, although not exactly true in blood, were responsible. He hoped that American would call back and say forget it, but he didn't.
"Do we have the DNA on record, sir?" asked his assistant.
"We did get a sketch of the skulls. It appears that our American friend is an artist, a forensic artist at that. Eyes, hair color are complete in detail. This man or woman has made the person look as if he were still alive. He not only knows anatomy, but anthropology as well."
"So what if he gets the color wrong? Like someone with my shape of face with blue eyes instead of brown? And my color beige instead of olive, sir?"
"Well he had to have help. Perhaps a relative of the dead person. He'd need to see pictures of his family and extrapolate from there. This woman for instance, has ash blonde hair which means that if her husband had dark brown hair, the children would have hair ranging from her tint to his. Same with the eyes. She has light gray eyes, but if her husband had dark blue eyes, the eyes of the children would be between, most of them. Unless there is a throwback, but that would be from the husband's side. There would be brown eyes and hazel, but the hair coloring would not be black, but dark brown."
"And what about lips and noses?"
"I have to recall what I learned from the field. The shape of the nose and the lips as well as the contour of the cheekbones determined that this woman was part Welsh. If the nose had been broader as well as the lips, we would have perhaps, assumed the children had more brown eyes than blue and that she was from the West Indies."
"So who is she or rather who are they?"
"Those from a secret file buried and not allowed to be revived unless I get a certain order."
"What is that order?"
"Eight dash sixteen slash two. Until I get it, my hands are tied. And if the ones who are supposed to give it are dead, the file stays buried forever."
But the ones to give that signal were all dead. Roger did not know how his grandfather died, or whether he knew about the code, but the others had all died. True it was nothing spectacular. Coughing your life away from TB, cancer, or the other diseases of age, including forgetting that your own grandson was not your son, was not as dramatic as throwing yourself on a grenade. Of those entrusted with the code 8-16/2, he alone remained. It appeared that because Hitler, Tojo, and Mussolini were one of a kind, and Stalin died naturally as well as Mao, there was no take over the world strong man to defeat.
The Hercules Project volunteers were just a memory and Carmichael was forbidden to delve into it further.