Deceived
Page 8
chapter eleven
Briana
No one could enter the grounds of the Howard BioTech campus without advanced security clearance—clearance that was revoked once I finished my summer internship. Luckily, I had already taken care of my own security clearance—paid for with a knock to the head and a wrung neck.
A twelve-foot wrought iron fence surrounded the property. The spikes at the top, as well as the electric current that ran through the metal, kept curious people from climbing over. A few of the interns I worked with last summer learned this the hard way. After they lost their IDs during a drunken outing at a Portland bar, they thought it would be a good idea to sneak inside BioTech the next morning—that the electric jolt wouldn’t be that bad. Fortunately, I got wind of their idiotic idea in advance and had my dad lessen the electric current. The resulting video was still fun to watch.
I put Vance’s lanyard with his ID badge around my neck, thankful that he was scheduled to be away from the labs all morning. Approaching the guard tower and the steel gate slowly, I made the guards on duty think they were seeing Vance. I stopped beside a thin older man in a dark blue police-like uniform, complete with a gun and stick on one hip and a flashlight and stun gun on the other.
“New car, Mr. Carrington?” the bald-headed man asked.
“Nah, just a rental. Mine’s in the shop. Getting some neon accent lights put around the license plate.” I held Vance’s ID badge up so the guard could scan the bar code.
He shook a finger at me. “That’s funny. You’re a funny guy, Mr. Carrington.” He scanned the badge, then raised another device with his opposite hand. “Let’s see if the new system is working today.”
Uh-oh. What new system?
The guard lifted a handheld device up to my eyes. It looked sort of like a grocery checkout scanner. Crap. Was he scanning my retinas? As soon as he discovered my retinas didn’t match, it would be game over.
My heart beat crazy fast in my chest. The guard stood so close, I was sure he could hear it. My fingers white-knuckled the gearshift as I prepared to flee.
After a series of beeps, the guard stepped back and stared at the device, banged on it a couple of times. “This stupid thing hasn’t worked right all week.”
My eyes widened. I never got this lucky. “Well, you better see to getting it fixed. You never know who might try to sneak into our labs.”
“Will do, Mr. Carrington. Thank you, sir.”
I gave him a small salute as he motioned me through the gate, and I willed my breathing to even out.
I drove to where I remembered Vance parking last summer, but when I reached that area, every parking spot was already filled. I paused and stared at the garage entrance up ahead, where my dad parked. Vance had claimed he’d been promoted; that probably included better parking. Taking a risk, I moved toward the garage just as another vehicle passed me. A young woman—early twenties, pixie-short hair—was behind the wheel. She smiled, waved, and winked when she saw me—actually, when she saw Vance—and I refrained from rolling my eyes.
I followed close behind her into the gated garage, which allowed me to not have to use my own security badge—just in case. After she turned into a parking spot, I slowed and looked ahead to my dad’s parking spot, the one he’d been using ever since the lab was built when I was a little girl. Thankfully, it was empty.
Miss Pixie Cut got out of her car, gave me a weird look, and ushered me on. “What are you waiting for?” she yelled. “Park so we can walk up together.”
I moved in the direction she pointed. As luck would have it, two spaces over, I saw Vance’s name on a sign. I parked and shut off the car, then took in a long, cleansing breath and tapped my forehead against the steering wheel—while at the same time trying to keep up the outward appearance of being Vance.
The sound of fingers rapping on my window had me jerking my head up. Pixie Cut was standing outside my door. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and stuffed them in my jacket pocket. The woman backed away, giving me room to exit.
When I had closed the door, she pushed me against the car, my back to the driver’s side door. “You blew me off last night.” She leaned in close, her breath feathering against my cheek, and I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry at how uncomfortable she made me.
“Um… I’m sorry?” It was difficult to concentrate on making her mind believe she was seeing and hearing Vance with how close she stood.
She pushed away like she’d been slapped. “You’re sorry? What the hell, Vance? You said you’d call, and you didn’t.”
“Something came up.” Vance had been too involved in trying to drug me and do who-knew-what to me.
She narrowed her eyes, but let Vance’s lame answer go. “Did your contact call? What am I saying? Of course he didn’t, or you would have met me like you promised, so you could get this back from me.” She thrust a small velvet pouch into my chest, forcing me to grab it. “What if Dr. Howard had discovered this missing from the lab? You need to put it back. I don’t want to be caught with it outside the lab.”
I glanced down at the velvet bag. It reminded me of the tiny bags precious gemstones came in—or at least, that’s how they always showed them on television.
“I don’t even want to think about what that man would do to you if he knew you’d taken it outside the lab. Or if he knew you’d given it to me to test outside of Howard BioTech.” She shuddered, then rubbed her fingers across the back of my hand in an intimate touch. Looking up at me through a veil of thickly coated eyelashes, she said, “Don’t play games with me, Vance. We’re both in too deep.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek, then turned on her heel and marched off toward the elevator, yelling over her shoulder, “You coming or not? We’re late.”
“Yeah. Let me get something out of the car.”
I opened the door to the back seat and put my back to her, then I reached into the velvet pouch. Inside was a clear plastic case, and inside that was a device I’d seen while working as an intern last summer. It looked like a cross between a silicon microprocessor and a tracker, though much smaller—about the diameter of a pencil eraser—and incredibly thin and flexible. I dropped the device back inside the pouch and stuffed the pouch in my pocket.
What are you up to, Vance? But I guessed the more important question was: What was my dad up to these days? And why was one of his devices so important?
~~~~~
I asked Miss Pixie Cut to walk me to “my” office, since I had no clue where Vance’s office was. I assumed he’d gotten shiny new digs along with his shiny new promotion. The elevator spit us out on the tenth floor. Several people in cubicles nodded a greeting, but said nothing as Pixie Cut and I passed.
She paused when we reached the other end of a long hallway. To our right was a door with my name on a plaque beside it, but just below it was a retinal screening device. Just my luck.
A petite woman I recognized as Vance’s assistant approached us. She held a couple of manila folders. “Good morning, Mr. Carrington. I thought you’d be out of the office all morning?”
Pixie Cut narrowed her gaze at the woman, then eyed me. “See you later, Mr. Carrington.” She stared at me a few moments longer as if she thought I was going to ask her to stay. I didn’t. Vance’s assistant pursed her lips at Pixie Cut until Pixie Cut finally turned and left.
I’d completely forgotten the assistant’s name, and her ID badge was turned around, showing only blank white instead of her name and photo. Frozen with fear, I wracked my brain trying to come up with her name.
When I made no effort to enter Vance’s office, she stepped between me and the door, practically shoving me out of the way. She stood on her tiptoes, allowing the retinal scanner access to her eyes.
“Janice Davenport. Entry allowed.” The scanner noted the time of entry, then I heard a click. Whew, saved by Janice Davenport. I repeated the name over and over in my head.
Ms. Davenport opened the door, and I followed her into Vance’s office. “Wha
t is wrong with you? You stay out late? Party too hard?” She set the folders on the desk.
“No, sorry. Just frustrated that I had to change my schedule around at the last minute.”
She was a lady in her fifties. Had the whole grandmother thing going for her. A pair of rhinestone-studded bifocals perched on the end of her nose. She wore a long flowing skirt and a sweater that hung to her mid-thigh. “Oh, no. Please tell me you didn’t see Lora last night. Is that why you arrived together? Tell me you didn’t sleep with her. What did I tell you about her?”
I snapped out of my trance. “Lora?” Pixie Cut? “No. Actually, I saw an old friend last night.”
“An old friend? Sounds mysterious,” she joked. “Tell me who.”
“Now, Ms. Davenport. A gentleman never kisses and tells.”
“Since when?” she asked. “And what’s with this Ms. Davenport stuff?”
I waved a hand. “I’m just kidding around with you.”
She eyed me curiously, but let it go. “You’ve told me about every date you’ve had for the last five years, even when I didn’t want the gory details. Why stop now? Your dating life beats my trashy romance novels every time.”
I chuckled, trying to act natural. “Well, can you keep a secret?”
She angled her head. “Are you seriously asking me that? What is wrong with you? Come on. Spill it.”
“I’ll give you a hint. A certain well-known daughter is in town.”
She punched me in the arm. “No! Briana is back? Does Dr. Howard know? What am I saying? Of course he knows.”
I plopped myself down in the black leather desk chair. “Actually, no, and she’d like to keep it that way for now.”
“Boy, you do like to play with fire. That man will kill you if he finds out you’re messing around with his only daughter.”
“No he won’t. I’m his best scientist. He worships me.” I was starting to truly sound like the arrogant jerk that Vance was.
“You might be good at what you do, but Briana is Dr. Howard’s most prized and protected possession. Not to mention, I’ve met that girl.”
“What do you mean by that?” I was no one’s possession, and I certainly didn’t feel all that protected by my dad. But she did have my curiosity piqued. What did members of Dad’s company say about me?
“She’s a firecracker. I hear she’s brilliant like her father, but cold like her mother. I predict she’ll leave miles and miles of broken hearts in her wake.”
I frowned. I’d never even dated anyone seriously. Why would she say that? I tried to shrug off her words. “Well, we’ll just see about that. I have a date with her tonight.”
“And does Lora know that you’re going out with the boss’s daughter?”
“I can handle Lora.”
“Mm-hmm. Well, I’m glad you can. Now…” Janice nodded toward the folders she’d set on Vance’s desk. “You’ve got work to do. A couple of packages arrived yesterday.” The way she said the word “packages” had me lifting a brow. “Apparently, the person in charge of the factory is away, and our contact on Palmyra was able to fly us what we’ve been waiting for.”
I could feel the muscles in my back tighten. “Did our contact… what was his name?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Her name,” she corrected.
“Right.” I gave my head a little shake. “What was her name?”
“Dr. Sallee.” Her brows knitted together. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
I massaged my temple. “Yes, sorry. Just slightly hung over. Did Dr. Sallee say what the holdup was?”
“She said she ran into a problem. Apparently another clone showed up on Palmyra and helped Jonas Whitmeyer cure the two Boone clones. She’s worried she might have to find another way to fake the clones’ deaths in the future.”
The room spun slightly. Fake their deaths? Was she saying that the two clones that Jonas had told me about weren’t really dead? Addison had been telling the truth. The clones modeled after my dead brother were here at Howard BioTech?
“Where are these clones now?” I had to find them. I needed to see them for myself, make sure they were okay.
“With the others, of course.” She put a hand on my forehead. “They’re still a little disoriented. As are you, it would seem…”
“I’m fine.” I shrugged away from her touch. “Just nervous about a meeting I have with Dr. Howard this afternoon. Which I need to prepare for now.”
Janice took the hint and walked toward the door. She turned. “You need to be careful. We’re too close.”
When Janice had closed the door, I stood from the chair and stared out the window, my hands squeezed into fists. Had my dad actually initiated the cloning of my dead brother to be used in some experiment here? Or had Vance somehow gotten his hands on my brother’s DNA? I’d destroy whoever was in charge of the lab if I discovered they were harming the child clones in any way.
chapter twelve
Jonas
Manipulating the minds of the four security guards at the Howard BioTech entrance had been a little too easy for such a secure facility; Sandra had had the right idea when she built a facility on a remote island. I parked in a lot farthest from the building, exited my vehicle, and took in the massive building. How would I find Bree in that monstrosity?
Howard BioTech sat on at least a hundred acres by my calculation, but I could see only two buildings from my current vantage point: the monstrous main facility, and a smaller building nestled behind it to the right.
I wasn’t surprised by the wrought iron fence surrounding the property, or the guarded entrance to prevent outsiders from getting near the buildings. But I was shocked that the guards had been armed. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been. The moment I learned that Dr. Howard was tied to Peter Roslin and my mother, I should have suspected he was doing something that required a ridiculous level of security.
Still standing beside my rental car, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. “It’s not a good time, Doc,” I said to Dr. Sallee.
“I’m sorry. But you need to know.”
“Know what?”
“Tamati and Tane are dead.”
I squeezed my phone, tapping it against my forehead as I braced against rising anger and grief.
“Jonas.”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I said, when I was able to speak without my voice cracking with emotion.
“I’m sorry. I did everything I could.”
“How did they die? Didn’t I heal the tumors?” I pictured their small bodies, the soft skin of their young faces, and their sweet voices. I didn’t understand. Bree had mapped out the tumors, and I had obliterated them all. Had I missed one? Were the tumors too aggressive?
“I’m afraid the tumors simply returned, and grew faster when they did.”
I looked up at the building. I shouldn’t be here. My place was on Palmyra, not chasing some girl who didn’t even want my help. “Thanks for telling me, Doc. I’ll be home soon. Let me know if any others get sick.”
I hung up, and instead of slamming my phone into the parking lot like I wanted to, I slid it gently into my pocket. I was going to find Bree one last time. If she didn’t let me in on whatever was going on with her, I was leaving. I had to. I couldn’t let the clones on Palmyra die while I was off chasing some fiery redhead around the country.
I tried again to tap into Bree’s brain. I could sense her presence close by, but I’d never been able to get deeply inside her head the way I’d been able to get inside Lexi’s. That was probably a good thing; I doubted Bree would have gotten anywhere near me if I had controlled her the way I had Lexi.
I walked toward the front of the building, trying to put the latest dead clones out of my mind. The building had no windows at ground level, but plenty higher up, and right now the sun reflected off stories and stories of glass, at times looking like red-hot flames. I headed toward the extravagant front entrance, constructed mainly of glass and resembling an angular modern sculpture.
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sp; But as soon as I was inside, the elegance ended. Rather than the reception area I’d expected, I faced another set of locked doors, and to the right was an all-too-familiar retinal scan, hearkening back to my days in Sandra’s labyrinth of labs. I knew it was impossible that my eyes would work on the scan, and I wasn’t about to give Howard BioTech a map of my retinas.
To the left of the retinal scan was an intercom. I pulled my sleeve down over my thumb and pressed the red button. I realized I was being paranoid, but I also knew what a high-tech company like this could do with too much information. If it weren’t for the fact that Raven had tracked Bree here, I would never have dared come within a ten-mile radius of this place.
“Welcome, Jonas Whitmeyer, to Howard BioTech,” said a computerized female voice.
So much for trying to remain anonymous.
“What can we help you with today?”
“I’d like to meet with Dr. Howard, please.”
A couple of seconds passed before the female voice returned. “Dr. Howard would be happy to meet with you. Please proceed to the gold elevator.”
The door to my left opened. “Here goes nothing,” I muttered.
I walked through the door into a glass atrium, spotless and void of any humans. To my left were three elevators—one of a dull bronze, another of shiny silver, and a third of polished gold. “Nice Olympic motif,” I mumbled. The gold doors slid open.
I stepped into the small space and noticed the elevator had no buttons. The doors closed, and I immediately felt trapped.
The elevator took off, and soon my ears popped. Clearly I was headed for one of the higher floors. Though I’d been raised by one of the most evil, if brilliant, doctors known to man, I had the distinct feeling I was about to meet a man that would rival the… intelligence… of Sandra Whitmeyer. And he was doing everything within his power to intimidate me.
I wasn’t even sure the elevator had stopped moving when the doors slid open. I stepped out and was greeted by a tall man with bronze hair. Not quite the rich red of Bree’s hair, but close.