by Grant Pies
Bursting through the double doors, Carter shouted, “On the ground! Get the fuck on the ground!”
The man behind the microscope looked up first and gasped, holding his gloved hands in the air. The two men at the computers turned to face Carter, eyes wide.
“Don’t shoot,” the man at the microscope held his hands in the air, his voice muffled by his mask.
“On the floor.” Carter approached the scientists. They all scurried to obey his order. “Over there. Sit against the wall.”
The scientists stumbled across the room, keeping their hands up and watching Carter as they tripped over each other. Carter looked at the cameras in the corner of the room and debated shooting them, but figured either by the sound of his gunfire or by his image on the security screen he would be discovered. He opted to save his ammunition.
The scientists cowered and held their gloved hands in front of their faces. One of them pushed the two others behind him, shielding them from whatever may come. Carter kneeled, face to face with the man.
“CRISPR.” He just let the word hang in the air, tilting his head and measuring the man’s reaction. “CRISPR.”
“I – I – I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head and glancing over at a door on the other side of the room. That must be where the guards will come from.
“CRISPR. MIDAS Syndrome?” Carter said. “PAX2? Where is it? I know you have it here.”
“MIDAS?” A different scientist spoke. “That’s—”
“Shhh.” The first scientist cut him off. His eyes darted once again over to the double doors. Carter stood, gripped the scientist’s lab coat, and pulled him up until he stood. “Where?” Carter held his gun on the man, once again hoping that he didn’t have to fire.
“Upstairs,” he blurted out. “He’s got it in his own lab.”
“He?” Carter asked. “Blair?” The man nodded. “Get up!” Carter yelled. They stood, still holding their hands above their heads. “Get out of here. Leave! If you come back, you die.”
The double doors burst open. Two men in military-esque uniforms held guns out in front of them. Carter ducked behind the lab equipment.
“Go!” he yelled again at the scientists, who had dropped to the ground and covered their heads. “Get out of here!” With his back pressed against a cold storage unit, Carter nodded once again at the exit. The scientist who protected the other two ran out first. The others followed.
“Drop your weapon!” one of the guards yelled across the room.
“Fuck,” Carter mumbled and reached to pull his other gun from his waistband. He gripped a weapon in each hand, breathed in deep, and stood.
The guns kicked back and vibrated in his hands as he fired a string of bullets at the guards, causing him to lose his grip on the gun in his left hand. The cut on his left thumb split open from the recoil.
The guards shot fewer but more precise bullets. Computers sparked and the glass on the cold storage units shattered. Carter dropped back to the floor, but felt a scalding burn in his shoulder. He breathed in deep through clenched teeth. His shirt was torn and the skin of his shoulder was split open. But the bullet had only grazed his arm, and the skin was more burnt than shot.
“Jesus! We are to bring you in alive!” the guard shouted once the noise died down. “But you shoot one more time, and I’m gonna have to protect myself. I was being kind by just grazing your shoulder. I saw how you held those guns. Almost dropped the one. I can tell this isn’t you.”
Carter flexed his left hand. It still vibrated from the gun, and the bandages around his thumb were soaked through with blood.
“You’re ex-military,” Carter said from his cover. The man didn’t answer. “You both are.” Still nothing. “You guys have daughters? Wives?”
“Slide your weapons across the floor. And then toss out that backpack of yours.”
“Are they sick? Are you sick?” Carter knew he couldn’t shoot his way out of this.
“We’re coming over to you,” the man shouted. “You try anything and you’re dead. You got it?”
Carter didn’t answer. The burning in his shoulder continued, radiating heat and pain through his entire arm, and blood trickled down it. He laid his guns on the floor and pushed them away, then he tossed his backpack in the same direction.
“Okay,” he said quietly. He heard two sets of footsteps, flanking around him from opposite directions.
“Hands up,” the man said as he came around the bank of refrigerators, gripping his gun tightly. The other man didn’t speak. Carter lifted his hands, wincing at his shoulder. “Up,” the man flicked his gun upward. Carter stood, and the silent guard picked up the backpack.
They escorted Carter through the rest of Wave Therapeutics at gunpoint. As he walked deeper into the facility, the labs and machinery became more and more like something from a science fiction movie. Holograms of DNA strands were broadcast up from the floor in the middle of a lab. But parts of it were missing, chunks of the DNA glowing a different color. He passed by tanks filled with bubbling water, like high tech aquariums, but instead of fish they held body parts. A hand floated in one tank. A brain in another.
“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Carter asked, turning his head to keep his eyes locked on the brain floating in a tank. He had seen Accenture in action. He knew they didn’t just kill people, and he feared for what they had planned for him.
“Eyes forward.” The man nudged his back with the barrel of his gun. The other guard had yet to speak. “Here.” They stopped at an elevator. The man swiped his card and the doors slid open. He pushed Carter inside.
The guard pressed a button then turned to face Carter, his back to the elevator doors. This was the first time Carter got a good look at the man. His sleeves were rolled up just below the elbow. Dark facial hair covered most of his face, but underneath was dark tanned skin. On his chest was a patch with the name “Camonelli” sewn into it.
“You know, I know your type,” Carter said.
“Don’t speak,” Camonelli said.
“Just give me a second here.” The elevator moved upward. “I already guessed ex-military. That’s obvious.”
“I’m not gonna ask you again.”
“Probably Infantry Division.” Carter looked Camonelli in the eyes, but he refused to look at Carter, staring fixedly at the wall behind him. “Or maybe something more specialized. Mountain Division maybe.” Camonelli froze, not blinking, not breathing. He narrowed his gaze and met Carter’s eyes.
“You want me to shut this guy up?” The other guard finally spoke.
“I got it,” Camonelli said. “He’s just yapping anyways.”
“So, it’s Mountain Division,” Carter said. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. “I knew a guy, Brian, in the 10th Mountain Division.”
Camonelli pulled Carter by his shirt tossed him out of the elevator.
“I got this from here,” he said. “Go check on the scientists back downstairs. Make sure they don’t need to go to medical.”
“But Blair said—”
“I don’t care what Blair said,” Camonelli interrupted. “You think he wants his top scientists injured down there? Now get going!” The other guard nodded and stepped back in the elevator. The doors closed and Carter was left alone with Camonelli.
He pushed Carter against the wall next to the elevator and jammed the barrel of his gun in Carter’s stomach, pressing into his old gunshot wound.
“How do you know my brother?” Camonelli was so close, Carter could smell stale coffee on his breath.
He grunted at the gun poking into his gut, and said, “I helped him.” The words came out of him along with any remaining breath in his lungs. Camonelli let up and pulled the gun back a little.
“How?”
“I got him to the hospital. He was shot,” Carter said, conveniently leaving out the rest of the story. “You’re John, right? He told me about you and Lisa. That’s why you’re doing this? For Lisa?” Carter heard a sligh
t beep come from inside the elevator shaft, but far down, like it had just opened on the ground floor.
John stepped back but still held his gun on Carter. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. I’m an investigator, following up on a missing person case. My investigation led me here. And I’m pretty sure they’re holding my partner here.”
“They did bring someone in here a few days ago.” John looked around. The second floor was filled with rooms made of glass, similar to where Rose was kept, but these were more hospitable. Each room was like a one-bedroom apartment. One bed, a couch, small kitchenette, but also medical equipment. As far as Carter could see, they were all empty.
“Where?” Carter asked. Another beep came from the elevator shaft, like it was preparing to return.
“Don’t know. But I’m supposed to take you to see Blair. He probably knows.”
“Blair’s not going to tell me anything. Do you even know what’s going on here?”
“What do you mean?”
“The organs? Gene editing?”
“Yeah, the organs,” John said. “It’s high tech, growing organs in a lab. Cutting edge. Lots of corporate spies would want to get in here.”
“They’re not growing anything.” He could hear the elevator humming upwards in the shaft. “Well, maybe they are, but they’re also taking the organs from people. Kidnapping them.”
“What, like those stories of spring breakers in Mexico waking up in a bathtub filled with ice and their kidneys missing?” Carter wasn’t surprised John had the same response as his brother.
“Yeah, same thing, just in America, in a nice shiny building, with the name of a corporation on it. I told you, I was looking for a kidnapped girl. I found her in one of Blair’s clinics. That’s where your brother was. He was guarding the girl.”
“He was what? No.” John shook his head. The elevator rattled and stopped at the second floor. “Brian wouldn’t kidnap a girl! Not even for Lisa.”
“He was just ordered to watch her. He thought they were treating her for something. Just like you think they’re just growing organs. They weren’t treating her. They were taking parts of her DNA and pumping whatever they didn’t want back into her.”
“Jesus.” John looked away from Carter.
“We got her out. But she’ll die if I don’t get her—”
The elevator door dinged again, and the other guard stepped out. “What’re you still doing here? Blair’s gonna be pissed.”
“I’m going right now.” John pushed Carter down the hall. “Get going!”
Carter stumbled forward.
“The scientists are fine. Shook up, but no injuries.”
“Good,” John said, but in a slight daze, like part of him was in a daydream.
The two guards walked Carter down a long hall until they reached a glass room. Larger than the rest, it included an office in addition to the one bedroom. A nameplate sat on the desk with the name William Blaire etched into it.
“Take a seat.” John pushed Carter towards a small sofa.
“You guys don’t know what you’re doing.” Carter said. “Look around at what’s going on here!”
“We’re following orders,” John said.
“Just like we’ve done our whole lives.” The other guard said. “And I have looked around. If I’m going to follow orders from someone, I’d rather it be from the people who came up with the shit in this building, not the pissant who broke in. Sit tight,” he said and closed the door.
The Man Who Lives Forever
Carter sank into a sofa in the large luxurious hospital room, shivering in the cold air. He didn’t know what fate awaited him, or Olivia, or Sam. At least Rose was safe and out of reach from Accenture and Wave Therapeutics … for now. But safe from these people wasn’t enough. She had to be saved from her own body destroying itself.
The door opened and a man stepped inside.
It was William Blair.
“Hello.”
His voice was forceful and rushed, like he was meeting Carter in between more important meetings. Blair looked older than in his pictures, a bit paler, hair thinner. Carter didn’t respond to his greeting.
“You caused quite the stir downstairs.” Blair stepped behind his desk and sat. He wore a lab coat over business casual attire, like he could jump between the lab and the boardroom with little effort. His deformed eye stared back at Carter.
John and the other guard stepped into the room. The one guard pulled Carter up and reached in his pocket to retrieve his cell phone and the small memory card from Orcheck’s. He placed both on the desk in front of Blair. Then they took their places at Blair’s side with their hands clasped in front of them. John stared at Blair, and the other guard stared at Carter.
“And quite the stir at our clinic downtown last night.” Blair pinched the small memory card between his fingers, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the solid oak desk. He opened a drawer and dropped Carter’s phone and memory card inside.
“We could have avoided this, if you had given my man your phone when he asked. We only wanted your photos. That’s all. Instead you went on a rampage. Do you realize just how much damage you’ve done?”
“I don’t give a shit,” Carter said quietly, looking down and shaking his head. The weight of this case and the last week felt like it was pulling him into his chair.
“Do you know how much research you ruined? You’re lucky we moved the most important items out of that place last week.”
“Most important items? You left a fucking fifteen-year-old girl in that clinic. She wasn’t important? I wish the whole place would’ve burned down.”
“Oh, it burned down.” Blair nodded. “We made sure of that. It isn’t how we usually wrap up a project such as this, but it got the job done. The morning news cycle should be offering up our official story right about now,” he checked his watch. “Maybe if you knew how many lives we save with our research, then you would give a shit.” He made a face when he said ‘shit,’ like he didn’t like using such coarse language.
“Which other lives are you talking about? Definitely not Rose Bishop. She’s lying in a hospital bed right now. You chopped up her DNA and left whatever you didn’t want.”
“We provide people with lifesaving surgeries, surgeries our medical system has made impossible for them to get. It’s too costly, or they can’t wait for their turn to come on the never-ending lists. My research provides people with organs they need to survive. Over fifty thousand just here in our Chicago facility alone. And, like it or not, if I’m not alive, then my work stops. People die. Twenty people die every day in this country waiting for an organ transplant.”
“Don’t give me the ‘ends justifies the means’ shit. You’re just one more rich asshole trying to find a way to live forever. Where do the organs come from, huh? You ever tell these people how you get them?” Carter leaned forward. Blair picked up a gold letter opener from the desk and twirled it in his hand.
“Our employees are forward thinking. They see the value in our research. Imagine that one day we could eradicate cancer with just one injection.”
“Your bullshit might work with these people.” Carter pointed at the two guards. “They may be desperate enough to ignore the burning questions that any other person would ask when promised a fucking human organ!” Carter shook his head.
“They are grown—” Blair started.
“They come from people! People you think are easy targets! You look at them like science experiments!”
“Our volunteers dedicate their lives and bodies to science. They are committed to our work. One donor can save eight other people’s lives. One for eight. Some might say that’s a fair trade.” Blair set the gold letter opener down. “And you’re right, you probably aren’t as desperate as some other people. I know about you, Will Carter. Left home at eighteen. Moved around quite a bit. Kept to yourself. Only recently took on a partner. Maybe if you had someone in your life to care about, maybe
if you had a daughter who spent more time in a hospital than at home, and likely wouldn’t live to the age of four, or maybe if your mother was wasting away in an overcrowded hospital just waiting to die, because cancer had completely invaded her lungs even though she never smoked a day in her life—maybe then you would appreciate the research we are doing here.”
“You mean if I was born with MIDAS Syndrome and needed continuous organ transplants to survive?” Carter looked Blair in the eyes, who clenched his jaw and sat up straight. “You mean if I was that desperate then I would find kidnapping and murder acceptable? Call it all research and tell myself it was for the greater good? Fuck you.”
Blair nodded and looked beyond Carter, his eyes unfocusing. “Yeah,” was all he said. He cleared his throat and refocused his gaze on Carter. “Yes, maybe if your life was at stake you would do what it takes to survive.” Jake Dawson’s body lying under a blood-soaked sheet sparked in Carter’s mind.
“And profit,” he said. “Or at least get some nice cheap labor out of the whole thing. What does everyone here know? Do they know about Accenture? Hm? The rooms filled, and I mean fucking filled,” Carter looked at both guards, “with organs. Kidneys, some of them from children. Do they know that? Or the people whose genes you cut up until their own bodies start wasting away?” Carter looked at the guards. The one guard didn’t react, he just stared back at Carter and clenched his hands together in front of him.
Blair simply turned to look at the two guards. He tilted his head to the door, and the guards snapped into action, leaving the room. Carter and Blair sat alone.
“They know what they need to know. They know enough so that they will accept what we offer them, and be able to live life without guilt. They deserve that.”
“Do they?”
“They don’t know any better. They are following orders. That’s all.”
“So, what’s your excuse? You know exactly what you’re doing. How many girls have there been? How many people have died just so you could keep this whole operation going?”
