by S. E. Meyer
“As much as I want the man dead, I don't think that will work. His security is as tight as it has ever been. He has armed military covering the property. There's no way we would make it through,” Atticus said.
“Cornelius is scared right now. He's worried about what the people will do to him so he has everyone guarding the gate. That means the Mansion itself is empty. We just have to get inside, I can do the rest.”
“Anna, it's too dangerous. We can't risk getting caught. If something happens to you, we lose everything.”
Anna grabbed Atticus by the collar. “Damn it, Atticus. If I don't do something now, he'll kill my family.” She loosened her grip and let out a breath. “I'm doing this with, or without you. But I could use your help.”
Atticus shook his head. “Far be it from me to talk Montana Wool out of doing anything she has her mind set on, but for the record, I don't like this, Anna. I think it would be best to wait and see what the people do.”
“We don't have time.”
“And I can't let you do this alone.”
Anna took out her tablet. “Then it's settled.” “We do this now. As soon as Damarion is Governor, everyone will be safe, and this all goes away.”
◆◆◆
Arriving at the secret entrance to the mansion, Anna double checked Jax's map on her tablet. “This is it.”
“How do we get inside?” Atticus whispered.
“It's biometric, like the hideout. Jax added my thumbprint to the database.”
Anna pressed her thumb into the door's jamb and the latch clicked. “All right, here we go. Get your weapon ready.”
She pulled her gun and led Atticus inside.
There was no guard on their end of the tunnel. They crept through the darkness, coming to another doorway. Anna pressed her thumb again, and the door opened.
“This seems too easy,” Atticus whispered. “No guards at the doors? What's going on here, Anna? It doesn't make any sense.”
“I told you, they are all at the gate.”
They came to a set of stairs and heard voices. Anna looked at Atticus, placing a finger to her lips. She mounted the stairs without making a sound and found a guard with his back turned. To keep quiet, she brought the butt of her gun down hard onto the back his skull. Anna caught the man as he fell backwards, arresting his fall and lowering him to the floor.
“Okay, we need to make a run up to the ballroom. If he's not there, he'll be in his study. Ready?”
Atticus nodded.
The pair bolted up the stairs and out into the ballroom. There were a handful of employees at workstations, but Cornelius was absent. Anna ran to the study and kicked the door open.
Atticus ran in behind her, finding a wide-eyed Cornelius sitting at his desk. Anna leaped to the other side of the room, grabbing Cornelius around the throat with her arm and pushing the barrel of her gun into his temple.
“I wouldn't do that, if I were you Miss Wool,” Cornelius said, nodding towards a man standing in front of the study's bathroom. He opened the door, and a guard walked out while holding a gun to Sara's head.
“Shit,” Anna whispered.
Atticus pointed his weapon at the man holding the gun.
“Do it!” Anna yelled, her grip tightening around Cornelius's throat.
Atticus stepped closer.
“Shoot him now!” Anna said.
The gun trembled in Atticus's hands. “What if I shoot Sara?”
Four armed men entered the study through the doorway behind them.
“It looks like you didn't bring enough guns to this party,” Cornelius said. “Now, both of you drop your weapons.”
“Shit, shit,” Anna whispered through a clenched jaw.
“Drop them, or I will kill her, and then I'll kill your father too.”
Anna eased her grip on Cornelius. She and Atticus both bent down and set their guns on the floor.
Cornelius stood while rubbing his throat. He nodded to the guards. “Let the girl go. Escort her, the father and the aunt to the gate. They are free to leave.”
Cornelius turned to Anna. “I'm a man of my word. You bring me the wolf and I let your family go.”
Atticus's eyes widened. “Anna, what did you do?”
Anna bit into her lower lip. “Shit! Fuck!” she said, pounding her fist on Cornelius’s desk. “It wasn't supposed to go down like this.” She looked into Atticus's disappointed eyes. “I thought I could get close enough to kill him and this would all be over.”
Atticus dropped his shoulders while shaking his head in silence.
Cornelius smiled. “Did you really think I wouldn't be ready for you? That I wouldn't have planned this out, thinking of every scenario?” He took a step closer to Anna and stared into her eyes. “I knew you would come. I know you, Miss Wool. I know that your obsession for revenge has clouded your judgment.”
Cornelius gave a nod to his guard. “Take him to the holding cell with the others and get the nurse.”
The guard shuffled Atticus out of the study as a woman entered. The other guard continued to train his weapon on Anna. “Sit, Miss Wool.”
Anna did as instructed while she scanned the room, looking for an opportunity.
Reading her body language, Cornelius shook his head. “Don't get any ideas. Your family hasn't left the grounds yet.”
The woman rolled up Anna's sleeve and tied off her arm before sticking a needle into a vein at her elbow. She drew several vials of blood. “Here, hold this,” The nurse instructed, handing Anna a small gauze pad while pulling the needle out.
Cornelius lit a cigarette. He took a long drag and exhaled.
“This isn't over Cromwell. The people are on your doorstep, it's only a matter of time before they break through your gate and drag you away.”
Cornelius smiled. “Anna, have you looked outside?” He gestured toward the window.
Anna stood, stepping close enough to peer through the glass. The crowd at the gate had thinned and a pile of discarded signs lay on the snow to one side.
“As you can see, Miss Wool. The people have forgotten your little stunt. They have to go to work, they need to pay their bills. The citizens of Easton haven’t the time to loiter on my lawn.”
Anna squinted while turning her head. “Only because you're manipulating them with the Shepherd.”
“I only capitalized on an opportunity. It was the people that spent their own good money to have a camera and a microphone placed in every home, vehicle, pocket and purse.”
“But you murdered billions.”
“I'm sorry to disappoint you, I know you would have me dead, but you're not seeing the situation clearly. I did the world a favor.”
Anna wrinkled her brow. “A favor?”
Cornelius took another drag of his cigarette. “Yes, a favor. The world's population was growing at an alarming rate, almost doubling since the turn of the century. With the continued advances in medicine, our population would have reached twelve billion. This planet cannot sustain such a number. I saved hundreds of millions of people from starving to death.”
“So that's your justification? Kill them now because they would starve anyway?”
“Look at the bigger picture here. The world was way overdue for a catastrophic pandemic that could have wiped us out. It was necessary to manufacture such an event, thereby controlling it. We culled the herd and everyone left is that much stronger.”
“I recently heard a similar argument, but yours doesn’t hold water. What about all the people in New Easton? What about my mother?” Anna yelled.
Cornelius smiled. “Collateral damage.”
“You're nothing but a murderer.”
In a split second Anna pulled her arm back, throwing her fist into Cornelius's nose, crushing his cigarette into his lip. He stepped back, holding his face.
Two guards grabbed Anna by the arms, binding them behind her back.
Cornelius moved within inches of Anna's face. “I'm a hero, Miss Wool, regardless of whether your
small mind can understand it,” he spat, a trickle of blood traveling from his nose and onto his blistering upper lip. “I saved us all!”
Cornelius nodded towards the guards. “Take her to the holding cell.”
He turned to face Anna. “It appears you're out of moves, Miss Wool.”
◆◆◆
Cornelius burst into the laboratory of Gentech's second floor. He found Frank Anderson staring out the window with the laboratory's lights off.
“What are you doing? Is it finished?” Cornelius asked.
Frank rocked back and forth, paying no attention to the intrusion.
Cornelius walked around the man to face him. “Mr. Anderson, do you have the cure?”
Frank looked up at Cornelius with tired eyes. He nodded, before returning his gaze to the window.
“Well? Where is it?”
Frank stood, removing a vial from the glass refrigerator. He handed it to Cornelius. “I've done what you asked. Do we still have an agreement?”
“And you only made the one?”
Frank nodded. “Am I free to go now?”
“Yes, no more Chamber for you.” Cornelius turned and left the lab, closing the door behind him.
James stood waiting for him in the hallway. “You have it?” he asked.
“Yes. One cure for Richard.”
James gestured toward the door. “And him?”
“Stick with the plan. Destroy the lab and Frank along with it. I can't trust anyone.”
CHAPTER XXIII
With barely a week passing since he was knocking on death's door, Richard entered the formal dining room of the Governor's mansion.
“Feeling better?” Cornelius asked.
“Yes, I'm feeling much better.”
“Good. You look better. The cure worked. That's all I've been waiting for, so now we can move on with the rest of the plan. I have arranged a public execution for next week. We will show this city what we do to terrorists and traitors.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Because Richard, you will be the executioner. This is your final test. Too many times have you shown weakness. You let Margaret go. Your inability to follow through with Atticus. So much of this unpleasantness could have been avoided if you had only done what I asked.”
Cornelius lit a cigarette. “You will be the one that kills Anna Wool. I need to know that you have the balls to do what it takes.”
Richard's jaw muscles protruded below his ears, staring at the man who caused him a lifetime of pain. A man that was his own flesh and blood. A man that should have nurtured and loved him.
Richard clenched his fists.
A hate brewed from the years of abuse; a yeast pitched daily now bubbling from the depths of his tortured soul.
Richard knew his grandfather would not take no for an answer, but this was an envelope he would not tolerate being pushed.
Cornelius waved Richard off. “What are you doing standing there like an idiot? It's the kitchen staff's day off, but they always make a few things and place them in the refrigerator. Go fetch us something to eat.”
Richard left for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and slid out a platter of fried chicken before setting it onto the granite counter. While taking down two plates, his blank gaze scanned the kitchen, arriving upon the jacket he wore while on the other side.
“I would have been better off dying out there.”
Richard returned to the dining room and set a plate in front of Cornelius. “Fried chicken.”
Cornelius grunted while grasping a fork. “That'll have to do.”
Richard turned, setting a bowl next to his grandfather’s plate. “And they made a pudding for dessert,” he said, placing a polished spoon to one side of the bowl.
◆◆◆
Anna sat in the holding cell, twisting her brown curls around her index finger. It had been more than a week of doing nothing, but sitting, waiting and reflecting on every detail of how things went wrong. Replaying the decisions and scenarios in her head was driving her to the precipice of madness.
Anna stood, slapping the bars of her cell. “I'm sick of this. What is going on?”
She turned, shaking her head. “I don't understand what's taking so long. Why haven't the people taken care of Cornelius by now? Why don’t they do something?”
Atticus let out a slow breath from the opposite side of the room. “The only thing necessary for tyranny to rein is for good men to do nothing.” He rocked his head. “It’s in their DNA, they've been conditioned to have someone lead them.”
Anna made eye contact with Atticus. “I can understand how the younger generations are not willing to stand up and fight, being that they have been genetically changed, but what about the older ones? If the use of CRSPR has only been going on for twenty years, why are they so eager to tuck their tails and watch everything go to hell?”
Atticus stepped toward Anna. “This has been going on much longer than a few decades.”
Anna raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Anna, in the early part of the twenty-first century there was a massive secret trial performed in this country. The test subjects were in the hundreds of millions.”
“What?” Anna said. “That’s ridiculous, how does one go about performing a trial on hundreds of millions of people and it be kept a secret?”
Atticus looked into Anna's eyes. “Ever heard of the flu shot?”
“Sounds like you're bordering on conspiracy theories.”
Atticus nodded. “I know it sounds crazy, but listen, on average, they administered about sixty million flu vaccines annually throughout the U.S. in the latter part of the twentieth century. Recommendations from the CDC remained the same as they had since they introduced flu vaccines in the nineteen eighties. They only recommended the flu shot to people at risk of pulmonary disease, or high risk of infections or breathing problems. There were other guidelines, but that's the gist. Then, around the turn of the twenty-first century, the recommendations changed. Suddenly, the CDC recommended the flu vaccine to everyone over the age of six months. The number of doses administered went from sixty million in the year two-thousand and four, to almost a hundred and seventy million by twenty-eighteen. We can assume this was a tactic to make more money. Big Pharma tripled profits and guess who joined the CDC right before they implemented the changes? Cornelius's own grandfather, Louis Cromwell.”
“But this wasn't all about profit,” Anna replied, shaking her head.
“No,” Atticus said. “Obviously the pharmaceutical companies were making huge profits, but the funny thing is, the reported cases of influenza didn't go down. Triple the doses of people getting the shot. Over one-hundred million additional people receiving vaccinations, but no reduction in reported cases of influenza. In some years, reported cases went up. How is that possible? The efficacy was dismal, and yet, people continued to get the vaccine. According to your mother there was more to it than just profit alone.”
“So how does this all tie in to the secret trail?” Anna asked.
“Here's the most concerning part. They used to make the vaccines with an inactivated virus, using dead antigens. It's called a recombinant virus. They changed to a live virus, like they use in the nasal spray vaccine. So, suddenly, almost one-hundred and eighty million people are getting dosed with a weak virus, every year.”
Anna nodded.
Atticus continued. “The CDC used to recommend that only pregnant women at high risk of pulmonary issues get the vaccine. That recommendation changed towards the end of the twentieth century to include all pregnant women, regardless of gestation. That's the most concerning fact, that's where it all started.”
“I'm not sure I follow you,” Anna said.
Isabelle stood. “This all goes back to CRISPR. All they needed to do is add the right proteins and bacteria with the virus and people were getting dosed with a cocktail that would change their DNA.”
Atticus nodded. “Exactly.”
Anna turned to Isabelle. “But you told me in order for CRISPR to work on adults they would need hundreds, if not thousands of injections to change enough cells to make any difference.”
“This wasn't about the adults,” Atticus replied.
Anna winced, taking a sharp breath. “The babies,” she whispered.
“Precisely,” Atticus said.
“But they would only get a small fraction of the total births, right?” Anna asked.
Isabelle nodded. “Yes, but it all comes down to statistics and timing This was all on your mother's hard drive. At that time, twenty-five percent of the four million born in the U.S. every year arrived in July and August. That means about a million babies were conceived every year in October and November, the exact months the flu shot was administered. By taking advantage of the timing, while the newly conceived babies were minuscule, they could genetically alter hundreds of thousands of children per year. It was a fantastic opportunity to perform a mass trial on the public without anyone having a clue. They had the means, motive and the perfect delivery system already in place.”
Anna emptied her lungs. “So how many people were changed?”
“Tens of millions. And with Gene Drive technology, their children would carry the mutation, passing it on to their children, and so on.”
Anna wrinkled her brow. “With it being a secret, how would they have done any follow up to find out if the trial was a success?”
Atticus smiled. “That was easy. Genealogy and ancestry websites. Around the beginning of the century it became trendy for people to submit DNA samples to companies to learn their ethnicity, genetic backgrounds and health traits. This was marketed by popular ancestry websites, but privately funded by the Government.” Atticus shook his head. “Hell, no one had to get DNA samples out of people, they gave them up willingly. Between the ancestry websites, the prison system and the new immigration laws forcing people to submit DNA, the Government had the DNA profiles of nearly half the population by 2025. It was easy for them to test the DNA profiles to check for special genetic markers or mutations to measure success.”
