by Olah, Jeff
“I’ve never been here before, but the ride from the garage to the lobby confirmed it.”
“You spotted the holographic logo in the glass?”
“You thought I wouldn’t?”
The man’s grin began to fade. “I’m actually impressed you waited this long to say something.”
Mason sat forward in his seat. “BXF Technologies—I’m guessing it’s no coincidence that you and your team have decided to make this your home.”
“Temporarily.”
“What?”
“Temporarily make this our home. We don’t plan on staying, and that’s where you come in.”
“Where exactly do I come in?”
“Again, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Enough,” Mason said. “What do you want, why did you bring my friends and I all the way out here?”
The man now also sat forward in his chair. He leaned into the table and folded his hands. “Because I wanted to ask for your help, there’s something I need from you.”
“Really, what could you possibly need from me?”
The man sucked in a breath, tapped at the table. “My men and I, we saved your friends, correct?”
“Sure.”
“And you and the girl, I saved you both as well?”
“Okay.”
“As you looked around that lobby, was there even a single face missing?”
“No, it looks like we all made it.”
“Good, then you’ll—”
Mason stopped him. “How did you know?”
“How did I know what?”
“How did you know we’d be out there, that we’d even need your help? And please, do not lie to me.”
The man nodded. “My men and I have been in this building just shy of a year. We had been in contact with the man you know as Vince, and had recently become aware of what he was planning, only we didn’t know who he was targeting until it was already happening.”
“And?”
“And I was also made aware that there were two people under your roof that were of great importance, both whom I thought were already dead.”
“Oh?”
“You were a very hard man to find, Mason Thomas.”
“You’re not making much sense and I’m still not sure why you have me here, but now you’re trying to say that there was someone else?”
“My nephew.”
Mason looked at him and tried to imagine who he could be referring to, who would be close in age, and who even bore a passing resemblance. And then it hit him. Like a ton of bricks. He should have put the pieces together and it should have been way before now. The clues were there, he just wasn’t looking.
“Devin, he’s your nephew?”
The man paused a moment, like there was something else. “Yes.”
“And what am I missing?”
“I think you know, but you just haven’t completely connected the dots. So, it’s probably time I give you the rest of the picture.”
Mason didn’t respond.
“We already agree that I’ve helped you and your people, yes?”
Mason nodded. “That’s an understatement, but yes.”
“And now you have an idea of how I’m connected to your people and then moving that line forward, how I’m connected to this place.”
And then a second wave hit him. He didn’t like where this was headed and now needed to get to the end of this game of cat and mouse. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you might want to know that I have absolutely no problem climbing across this table and beating the life out of you.”
“I know who you are and I know exactly what you’re capable of—that’s why it was so important that it be you.”
Mason stood, leaned into the table, and stared at the man. “I’m done with this, what do you want?”
“I want your help and I think you owe it to me to at least listen.”
“We never asked for your help, that was on you. You came out there, you decided to take the risk to bring us here, and again we didn’t ask.”
The man looked harder now, his smile gone and his eyes with a new focus. “No you didn’t, but had I not come when I did, you and your friends would still be out there, a few of them, you included, may not have made it another couple of days, maybe not even through the night. And that’s only part of it, part of why I’ve come to you personally. You may not have put the pieces together yet and maybe you have, but either way, you have a debt that remains unpaid.”
He now knew who this man was, maybe not his name or his exact relation to the man that ended the world, the man who created the virus that turned rational men and women into ravenous monsters, but he was close. Somehow the man seated only a few feet away was related to the man who killed his wife and his son. Mason pushed away from the table, an anger building in him that he didn’t think he’d be able to control. “Marcus Goodwin?”
The man continued to stare back at him, his expression unchanged. “You killed my brother.”
“He deserved every single thing I did to him.”
“Yes, he was a monster, and on some level I was relieved to learn that he no longer walked this earth. But he was my brother and you did kill him, so from where I stand you owe me more than just a simple thank you.”
He didn’t like where this was headed, but figured there was no harm in listening. “Okay, talk. But you need to remember, if anything you say is less than truthful, I have no problem ending your life.”
“My name is Miles Goodwin and I worked with Marcus, but not anything related to his research. I was an architect and a civil engineer. I designed this building and its concept. Marcus paid me handsomely to work on special projects that he couldn’t let out to the public and especially the ones he wanted to hide from the government.”
“So what do you need me for? I’m not sure I’d be able to offer—”
Miles stopped him. “I also put together the concept for a military research facility he was contracted to build. I believe you know that facility as Blackmore.”
“Excuse me?” he hadn’t heard that name in over three years. It was the place he first found out what all of this was and the place he laid his wife and his son to rest.
“Marcus knew the potential of Blackmore, but had very little to do with its design and construction. He only knew what he wanted it to be, and that’s where I came in. I put together the plans and presented them, only I never knew he had broken ground, let alone finished it or even where it was. He kept me in the dark and even cut all communication toward the end. But now, after living here for the past year, I now know it exists. I’ve seen photos and video from inside the facility; however, I have no idea where it is or how to get there.”
“So?”
“So, that’s where you come in.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to take me to Blackmore.”
“Why would I want to go back there, why would I want to get anywhere near that hellhole?”
“Well, for one it’s probably the most secure piece of property left in this world. And two, it could be a place for you and your friends to rebuild. And when the time comes, a place for you to gather the strength you’ll need to go back and pay a visit to Vince and what’s left of his crew.”
Mason didn’t trust him, and he also didn’t like him. This man’s story didn’t seem rational nor believable. And although this man he now knew as Miles Goodwin didn’t appear to have any reason to lie, he wasn’t so sure the story checked out. “Why would you want to leave this place? I mean it looks like you’ve got a pretty good thing going here in your little corner of the city. Why throw that away?”
“Fair question. And I can see where you’d think that; however, this place isn’t what it looks like. We’ve reached a point where it no longer makes sense to stay. The building simply uses too many resources and is growing too hard to maintain, plus tending to the infected has nearly become a full time job. Now Blackmore
, even though we don’t have its exact location, we do know that Marcus was keen on having it built away from the city, probably in the foothills or mountains. It just makes sense to set up shop somewhere away from all of this, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Mason stood tall and folded his arms. “And what if my people and I decide it isn’t worth our time or effort?”
“I’m not going to try to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Although if you decide you’d rather take your chances out there on the streets, out there with the infected, without anywhere to lay your head at the end of the night, I’m not going to stop you. We can go downstairs right now. I’ll open up the front doors and let you and your friends walk right out, hell I’ll even give you a ride back to where we found you. You’ll be free to go, nothing gained, nothing lost. But if you do decide to take me up on my proposition, it’ll be just you and I. You’ll get me there, we’ll look it over, and once it’s safe, we’ll bring the others.”
“My friends, what are they supposed to do, where are they supposed to go?”
“They are free to stay here until we return and are welcome to anything under this roof, for now what’s mine is yours.”
Mason thought about it, decided that the former military research facility could actually be a place for he and his friends to rebuild, a place to start over. Going back would scratch at some wounds he’d hoped were healed, but it was the best option for those he still cared about. He looked across the table and held Miles’ gaze. “If you step out of line even an inch, I will kill you. If you haven’t been completely honest with every single detail, I will kill you. And if you hurt any of my friends, I will kill you.”
Miles Goodwin finally stood and pushed away from his chair. “You have my word.”
“Okay then,” Mason said. “Now that we’re both on the same page, when do we leave?”
What’s Next?
Book Two – ISOLATION
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Enjoy!
Sneak peek of The Last Outbreak
PROLOGUE
Exactly ten minutes early, Emma Runner strode into the twenty-thousand square foot privately owned hanger of BXF Technologies. Sitting in silence, a pair of Gulfstream G280s waited to usher her away from the city. Moving quickly across the red and white polished concrete floor, she avoided eye contact with the pilot, now staring down at her from the cabin door. She instead moved toward the black, Italian leather sofa situated along the rear wall, dropped her bags, and reached for her phone.
Entering her pass code, she glanced back at the pilot and held up an index finger. He nodded and disappeared back into the jet. Returning to the backlit screen, she stared at the message icon and shook her head. And because her OCD would eat her alive if she dropped her phone back into her bag, she opened the app to confirm there were no new messages. “Come on Ethan.”
Before closing out her messages, she re-read the most recent and swallowed hard. Why would we need to leave tonight? Why at four in the morning, and why back to the West Coast? They’d only arrived a week earlier, and she’d just gotten used to the new time zone. However, these were questions she’d have to keep to herself. After hearing the story about the last person to interrogate the man running this company, she didn’t need another reason to continue down that path.
Running on less than two hours of sleep, she was exhausted. Even the four cups of superheated caffeine were making little headway in reviving her from last night’s client dinner. She was initially nervous to meet the businessmen from the other side of the continent, and for the first few hours, she only spoke when absolutely necessary.
. . .
The men were introduced as Maxwell Amador and Gerald Fienberg. All she was told was that they helped fund the new project she’d be assigned to, and that they were given only base-level information, and promised a five-hundred percent return once the end product hit the battlefield.
As the lead chemist, the investors from the East Coast demanded that she attend. And although she hadn’t completely familiarized herself with the project, the science behind the injectable was something that she believed to be at least ten years off. The men who were to invest nearly a billion dollars would be looking for specifics, although she was instructed to keep it simple—and under no circumstances was she to reveal what the true capabilities of the program were.
Coming in near the unofficial launch of Project Ares, she understood that she’d been the fourth to take on the position. However, the fate of the first three chemists, along with any indication as to who they were, was kept private. She didn’t care. This was her break, and she didn’t see fit to question the company willing to pay her twice what she was asking.
An hour prior to last night’s dinner meeting, seated in the backseat of the jet-black Rolls-Royce Phantom, she sank into the buttery, crème-colored leather. And as the man who signed her checks scrolled quickly through his phone, she awaited his instruction.
Standing nearly six feet tall, his thick salt and pepper hair, chiseled features, and lean frame lent credence to the H. Huntsman suit he’d decided on for the evening. The man seated to her left finished with the details of his message, checked the time, and then turned to her with a grin that only slightly put her at ease. “Emma Runner… do you think you’re ready for this?”
“Mr. Goodwin, I would first like to express to you my gratitude for the opportunity to—”
His slight smile began to morph into something resembling confusion. And Emma’s short sermon fell off abruptly as he shook his head. “Listen, I’m a man who has little time for anything other than forward movement. You’ve already proven worthy of this job, and this trip. There was no need to thank me or anyone else when you were initially hired and there isn’t one now.”
“Yes sir.”
“My name is Marcus Goodwin. Formalities can wait until we are back in that other time zone. For now, let’s focus on making sure the men who are handing over the check are satisfied with the explanation we have to offer.”
“Sure, but how exactly are we going to explain what this program is all about—I mean the physical details can be a bit complicated?”
“We aren’t.”
“No?”
“Not tonight,” Goodwin said. “Tonight we make sure they’re comfortable accepting that what we are doing is going to change the world. Make them believe it, make them beg me to let them invest.”
Smiling apprehensively as the car slowed, Emma turned and peered out her window, still unclear about exactly what he wanted and why she was flown across the country. “It looks like we’re here.”
Before responding, he leaned in, laid his hand on her left knee, and let it drift up her thigh. “Once this investor is secured, we’ll be completely self-regulating. No agencies to dictate the how’s and why’s. Those other contracts will be burned. And if another politician ever steps foot in our building, it’ll be for an interview. Tonight I need you to—”
His phone’s ringing sliced through the tension, and Emma drew her left leg back. Straightening in his seat, he looked at the screen and shook his head. “Daniels,” he said under his breath. “What the hell does he want?”
As the car rolled to a stop, he stayed seated, as Emma’s door was opened from the outside and she exited. Placing the phone to his ear, his door was also opened. “Daniels,” he said, “what are you still doing—”
“Yes, I’m meeting with them tonight.”
Looking down at his watch and then back through the open door, he stepped out and started for the entrance. He marched across the busy sidewalk an
d paused before the entrance as Emma moved inside. “No, that couldn’t be us. Trust me, there’s nothing to worry about. I don’t care what you’re hearing. And yes, they’ve been trying to reach me all afternoon. However, I have a few things to take care of. I’ll call them when I get back to the room tonight. You just head home and take care of—”
Holding the phone out away from his ear, he again checked his watch. “Yes, I’m well aware of your title. You’ve made sure of that over the last few years,” his voice intensifying, “but you need to remember that I don’t answer to you… any of you.”
Looking over his shoulder, he could see through the crowded restaurant and into the bar. The deep pockets he was there to meet had already spotted Emma and were quickly approaching. “No, I haven’t been watching the news, I’ve been out here on the other side of the country attempting to keep this thing afloat. When I get back in town at the end of next week, I’m coming up there to throw you and everyone else out of my facility.”
Staring through the floor-to-ceiling, plate-glass window as it gathered arcs of frost in each of its four corners, Goodwin could feel his heart beating in his ears. “Do what you have to, although you know who I am, and what I’m capable of. Just make sure that you and your people are gone by the time I arrive.”
Ending the call, he slid his phone into his pocket, straightened his tie, and walked into the crowded bar.
. . .
Having scrolled through each message twice, she paused on the final text from her mother and read it once again. Sweetheart, your father is ill, and at the moment I just want him to rest. I’m shutting off the phones and will call you in the morning. Have a safe trip, we love you. Mom and Dad.
As the door to the hanger slammed shut, Emma dropped her phone into her bag and turned toward the exit. He came through with the same exaggerated stride as earlier, although he was different. Much different.
Moving quickly to the second jet at the far end of the open air hanger, Marcus Goodwin spoke quickly to the unidentified man at his side. As Emma tossed her bag over her shoulder and started at a right angle toward the jet, he didn’t appear to notice her existence.
