by Darrell King
“Meredith and I have perfected this drug,” Wilhelm said, “so that the death rate from your sexual encounters will increase significantly, Mr. Valentino. Isn’t that correct, Meredith?”
“Fuck all that neo-Nazi talk, Jack,” Valentino interrupted. “What I wanna know is how much am I gonna get paid extra for this shit?”
“I’m sorry?” Wilhelm asked.
“You heard me, man. I’m ‘bout that chedda, my dude, if I’m gonna be y’all’s lil’ muthafuckin’ guinea pig, y’all crackas g’on have to come up off o’ some mo’ bread for my services, ya feel me?”
Valentino’s bold demand for an increase in pay left the scientists dumbfounded. The sheer audacity, they thought, of making demands on the people who held his very existence in the palm of their hands was both extraordinarily impressive and more than a little foolhardy. However, the drug dealer’s confidence alone brought him their respect and undivided attention.
“Of course, Mr. Valentino, you shall continue to be paid handsomely for your role in this all-important operation,” Wilhelm said reassuringly. “I’m quite certain that our friends at the World Health Organization will have no problem adding a raise to your monthly stipend. You are a valuable asset to us, Mr. Valentino. Why would we dare treat you unfairly?”
Wilhelm smiled slightly before turning on the faucet, slowly lathering his hands to wash them before the procedure began.
“All right, I’ll need for you to extend either your right or left arm so that I may swab a spot with alcohol. You know the routine. Make a fist for me so that I can choose a nice, prominent vein there, and we can get this party started. This serum will be slightly more acidic, which—I’m warning you—means that as the Biomax-O #2 reacts with your hemoglobin, it’s going to be unpleasant. But don’t worry, the resulting allergic reaction will pass quickly, more than likely after only a few seconds. And, on the bright side, you won’t have to shoot up again until this time next April! Oh, also, one of the side effects of the Biomax-O #2 will be an increase in sex drive, firmer erections, and increase in seminal volume and more stamina. Just think of it as Viagra times five. Not that you need help in that area or anything.”
“You’re a real walking, talking Biomax infomercial, aren’t you, Wil?” Meredith said while prepping Valentino for his shot.
“Both o’ y’all shut the fuck up an’ get this shit over with, aiight? I got shit to do today.”
Both scientists strapped on green rubber gloves as Wilhelm raised a small vial of Biomax-O #2 gently from a tray of six.
“Your vitals are all strong and you are in perfect health, Mr. Valentino. Besides, you’ve got some guns on you. Do you work out often?” Wilhelm asked.
“Look here, white boy, is you gonna get this shit over with or talk me to death? Cause I got plenty hos back at the crib to do that. C’mon now, let’s get this shit over with, dawg!”
“Very well, sir. Brace yourself,” Wilhelm warned.
The drug dealer’s arm stretched out, keenly muscular. As the thin, sharp metal point sunk into Valentino’s raised vein, he gritted his teeth and struggled mightily against he leather straps which Meredith had applied while he’d lay, prostrate, on the bed. Bestial grunts and groans escaped his lips as he fought against the straps pinning him down. Heavy beads of sweat covered his entire face, neck and chest. Soon the shaking subsided, with each shudder becoming less and less violent, until he at last gave way to exhaustion and sleep.
Chapter 15
Eight hours later, Valentino leaned up against the wall in the smoke-filled, noisy interior of Fontaine’s Pool Hall. He chalked the end of his favorite black and tan pool stick. A small pile of cash sat on an empty stool below the wall-length mirror behind the table. Of the eight games he’d played this far, he’d only won four—breaking even, which was piss-poor for a pro like himself, he thought. The music was lively, the liquor was strong, and the crowd was mostly female and fine. But Valentino had a million things on his mind, and pool just wasn’t one of them. He had a plan for the Sentinels of the Illuminati, particularly for Dr. Wilhelm and his pretty coworker, Meredith Nader.
The racist Sentinels viewed him as just a pawn in their sick game to eliminate black and other minorities, and sure, he had agreed to play a part in their objectives, yet he planned, in turn, on using them as they’d used him. He knew that the tall, handsome German had no real appreciation for him and would more than likely seek to kill him after the “super AIDS” operation reached nation-wide pandemic status. Therefore, he’d have to beat the doctor to the punch. But for now, both parties needed each other and the street-wise drug dealer would milk it for all it was worth.
Valentino was intrigued by Dr. Nader in a different way. She too was in no way a minority-friendly individual, particularly hating black folks, he had deduced. She was nonetheless a woman, and it was his desire to break her down as he had done dozens of times before to innumerable females from all walks of life, including those who were considered out of his league. When it came to hustling and pimping, the man knew he had few equals.
A scuffle broke out near the bar, causing a crowd to gather there for several minutes before a surly bouncer tossed the inebriated combatants out into the back alley. Valentino lingered near the pool table, slowly gathering his money from off the top of the stool. While the crowd was dispersing, Valentino made his way toward the door. He’d had enough of the pool hall for the time being.
Driving along interstate 99 a few minutes later, Valentino dwelled on the two scientists, whom he planned to manipulate, especially Dr. Nader. The woman was clearly frustrated sexually and more than a little chummy with Wilhelm Von Strecker. He guessed Dr. Von Strecker had probably even hit it once or twice. It was written all over their faces, especially when they were together.
Valentino knew the dynamics of sex, and he set out a plan to get to Dr. Nader through her blond boyfriend. He obviously didn’t pay her the attention she so desperately desired. All women, he thought, regardless of their ethnicity, social standing, or even age had basically the same vulnerabilities, and any man with the proper skills could exploit them. Meredith Nader was an attractive, but lonely chick who poured most of her energies into her work. Valentino realized that she had feelings for Wilhelm—feelings that hardly seemed mutual. She was also one hell of a flirt, which spoke volumes about her sexuality. She was no doubt a freak, a freak who would soon be another one of his conquests, regardless of the fact that he was black and infected with AIDS. He was a player pimp who considered this the challenge of a lifetime—one that would reap incredible dividends for him in the long run. He grinned to himself as he wheeled his big Saturn off the interstate ramp onto Rock Hudson Parkway, en route to Fujita City and his beachfront property.
***
Wilhelm ended a 15-minute call with his wife, and then flipped the top down on his cell phone, placing it down on the table beside his dinner tray. To the rear of him, near a row of vending machines, Meredith stood holding a Deer Park water bottle, silently fuming as she withdrew a container of yogurt from the nearest machine. She was so disgusted by the lovey-dovey chitchat between Wilhelm and his “loving” wife that she suddenly felt nauseous. Wilhelm looked up from his partially eaten meal and smiled weakly in her direction.
“Hey you,” he said, “why don’t you come on over and cop a squat? What do you say?”
Meredith felt the initial fury of hearing him speak to his wife subside somewhat, and she reluctantly joined him at the lonely table.
“C’mon, why the long face, Meredith?” Wilhelm asked.
“Wil,” she answered, “do you really love her? Do you?”
“Meredith, please...don’t do this. Not here, not now.”
“Oh, gimme a break, Wil! You don’t love her. I mean, my God, man, you hardly ever even touch her! Tell me, when was the last time you made love to the little wife? Yesterday? Last week? Three months ago, maybe? Pathetic, the both of you . . . fucking pathetic. You deserve each other.”
�
��You’re acting childish, Meredith,” Wilhelm said quietly. “You’re acting like an 8th grader with a schoolyard crush. I’m a married man. Can’t you see that? Face it—there can be nothing between us romantically, Meredith. Okay? Let’s just be friends—like we’ve been ever since we began working together.”
The two scientists sat starting out into space, alone with their thoughts until Meredith said, “What about the night I gave myself to you, Wil? Do you remember? You said it was so perfect. What we had was special, Wil...incredibly special.”
She had a twinkle in her eye as she lovingly gazed at Wilhelm. She got up out of her seat and draped her arms around the doctor’s shoulders, caressing his cheek with her long, pale fingers and whispering into his ear.
“Meredith, for the love of God, woman, stop it! What we had was simply a one-night stand, all right? Nothing more!”
“Was that all that I was worth to you?” she asked. “A cheap lay? I see . . well, fuck you very much, doctor! And oh, by the way, Wil, I faked it—both times. And ya wanna know what I really think about Adolf Hitler? He sucks ass! Just like you and your shit-for-brains wife. And, please, lay off the booze, ‘cause it seeps through your pores and give you body odor something terrible . . . just thought you ought to know that, asshole!”
She stormed away from the table with her snack, out of the cafeteria and back toward the lab.
“Meredith!” Wil called after her. “Meredith, can we talk about this? I’m sorry, okay? It’s just that...Meredith! Damnit!”
With frustration, he shoved the dinner tray away from him and it fell to the floor with a loud racket. He wished that they’d never had sex. Things shouldn’t be this complicated between them, but the reality of the situation was that they were, and with Meredith’s feelings being a major issue, things weren’t going to change anytime soon.
Meredith’s anger was at a boiling point. Why couldn’t she win Wilhelm’s heart—or the heart of any man, for that matter? All of the good ones were either married, involved or gay. All that was left were the sexually deviant old geezers and punk kids. She was fairly young still at 32, and easy on the eyes, so she was baffled at her lifelong rotten luck with men.
A half-hour later, Meredith stood beside Wil’s work desk, staring sheepishly at the floor.
“Wil, look,” she said, “I . . I’m really sorry about what just happened. I don’t know what got into my. Please accept my apology.”
He looked up at her from his microscope smiling reassuringly, his intense blue eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, melting her already broken heart. He reached an outstretched hand toward her in a show of friendship. She hesitated, but eventually pressed her palm to his in a handshake. She hated herself for loving him still. What a fool she’d made of herself, she thought. All her life her mother had warned her against falling for married men. Even now she could hear her mother’s chastisement echoing within the depths of her mind.
Wilhelm changed the subject, saying, “Well, I’ve completed the last of these clinical trials for the general members of the World Heath Organization, just as Dr. Harrington asked, so that no one will become suspicious about our true experiments. I’m heading on home. I . . . I’ve got my in-laws coming over for dinner later tonight, so I’ve got to get back to help Cindy with the meatloaf. Will you be so kind as to lock up the central lab for me?
Meredith nodded and Wilhelm stopped suddenly and added, “Oh, shit—I almost forgot, could you deliver this cash to Valentino for me? Don’t worry, he actually lives in a decent neighborhood, unlike most of those people.”
Meredith glared at him through narrowed eyes as Wilhelm gathered up his briefcase and car keys from his desk and exited through the glass doors beyond.
***
11:27 a.m.
Valentino sat on a plush leather and suede recliner in his spacious living room watching ESPN while drinking a cold bottle of Corona and eating nachos and salsa dip. He wore a gray, tight-fitting wife beater and knee-length basketball shorts. The surrounding living room floor was lined with fluffy, wall-to-all white sheep’s wool carpet. Well over a dozen provocatively dressed women, a few barely legal, lounged around lazily, chitchatting and playing with on another’s hair. The musical chime of the doorbell echoed throughout the spacious, beautifully furnished living room, bringing one of the live-in harlots to her feet and off to quickly answer the door.
“Well, well, look what the cat done dragged up in here,” Valentino called from his huge recliner. “C’mon in here, white girl, an’ sit down next to big daddy for a coupla minutes. Lemme holla atcha right quick.”
“I don’t think so, “Meredith answered. “You see, Valentino, unlike the rest of these airheaded white chicks you’ve got here, I’m not so into low-life nigger pimps. Sorry.”
He smiled as he arose from his seat to make his way past the suddenly silent prostitutes toward the open doorway.
“You standin’ in my door, holdin’ my money and talkin’ shit to me in my fuckin’ place?” Valentino asked flatly.
The sharp-tongued scientist found herself in an unusually vulnerable position. She often ridiculed others without so much as a second thought of retaliation, but this was totally different. It was painfully obvious that she was out of her element here, and quite possibly in danger. Yet for some reason, the risk factor actually turned her on.
“Look if I offended you...good,” she said, “because I don’t particularly care for scumbags like you trying to hit on me. So why don’t you take your money and we’ll both call it a night, okay?” She reached down into her leather handbag and pulled out an envelope stuffed with cash. “Here you go. It’s all there. I already counted it for you.”
Valentino rudely snatched the envelope from Meredith’s hand after stepping out and slamming the door shut behind them.
“I don’t let bitches talk to me that way, ya understand?”
“Look, dipshit,” Meredith replied, “I’m warning you, back the fuck away.”
Valentino smirked, then reached out and roughly pulled her toward him.
“Shut the fuck up! What you g’on do now, huh?” he asked. “I ain’t one of them science geeks you normally fucks with. I’m a real-ass nigga, bitch, and I can show you that betta than I can tell you!”
Meredith’s blood pressure rose ridiculously high at that point, and her heart was pounding in sheer fright, but she tried to maintain some sort of composure in spite of herself.
“Get your fucking hands off me, you black bastard!” she yelled.
Valentino pressed his lips to those of the struggling scientist in a hard, but sensual kiss. She fought against him, but her struggles were for naught against her stronger adversary. His hands cupped her plump ass cheeks, groping her with the sexual aggression of an animal. Valentino’s hand fondled the woman’s hairy vagina beneath the sheer fabric of her satin panties, which yielded it’s musky moisture once the pimp’s thick index finger found its way into the slippery opening.
“Oh yeah,” he said quietly, “you know you like it, don’t ya? Uh huh, you like it.”
Meredith finally managed to push away from the man who’d just violated her. She pulled her skirt down and adjusted herself with unsteady movements. She looked disheveled and shaken as she backed away from him.
“Bring yo’ass here, woman!”
Valentino’s tone was threatening and full of street bravado. Reluctantly, a shell-shocked Meredith obeyed. Gently the pimp took hold of her chin, stroking it softly. He gazed into her fluid green eyes with a sense of accomplishment.
“It ain’t hardly your fault baby...you act all hard an’ shit ‘cause you ain’t got nobody to scratch that itch in a while, ain’t that right?”
Tears welled up in Meredith’s eyes and spilled down her reddened cheeks.
“You’re a monster,” she said.
Valentino feigned a look of startled surprise.
“Say what? Monster? Bitch, please, you not only needed that, you wanted it and from the way you was grin
din’ those hips when I was finger fuckin’ you, you ain’t been getting’ no dick for a helluva long time. Now tell me I’m lyin’?”
“You just raped me.”
Once again the pimp kissed her, only this time his tongue found its way into her mouth while he held her close.
The man had clearly overstepped his boundaries by miles, but what could she really do? Go to the cops? Tell them about their background? About the world’s most sinister mass murder plot? But even more unsettling to Meredith was her unspoken enjoyment of the experience itself. She felt a satisfaction that she hadn’t felt in months. Yet, she couldn’t believe that it was a black pimp who’d given it to her. She had a ton of personal, as well as professional reasons not to enjoy what had just transpired on the front porch, overlooking the darkened beach. He was black. He was a criminal. Most importantly, he was a carrier of the most lethal STD on the planet—HIV10X. Doctor Meredith Nader backed away slowly from Valentino until she reached the steps, then she turned and raced toward her parked car. Driving away from Fujita City, Meredith sobbed all down the interstate highway. She was totally at a total loss as to what she was feeling.
***
By April 28, Dr. Nader had spent a significant amount of time out at Valentino’s beachside bungalow, and seemingly for reasons other than the professional. The man really had no need to see any of the Sentinels of the Illuminati scientists until months later when he’d have to return for another shot of Biomax-O #2.
Other scientists in the Coventry Laboratory family noticed Meredith’s distance, as well as her constant absences from work, but no seemed to know what was really happening. Everyone was in the dark except for Wilhelm. Having been intimately involved with Meredith, he better than anyone realized what the deal was. And he was disgusted by the very thought of his coworker doing the unspeakable. When they were alone together—which was often—he let her know how he felt.
