The Black Market DNA Series: Books 1-3

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  Ana feared what might be hiding under his palm, what Linda had done to him. But besides getting Chris to a doctor, Ana wanted names. She needed to know who Linda and David had manipulated. Who in the FBI and Baltimore PD had been compromised. Who she couldn’t trust.

  With that information, she intended to hand Linda over, certain she could close this case and ensure Linda Thomas’s and David Reed’s demises.

  Like Linda, she had questions.

  Ana grabbed one of the syringes filled with Reed’s nanobots. She held it in front of Linda’s face with one hand and forced the woman’s eyelids open with the other. “You want to talk? That’s all you want? Then let’s talk.”

  She didn’t intend to torture the woman. She wasn’t as baseless as the CEO and apparent crime lord.

  Linda wouldn’t know that, and the fear in the woman’s eyes was a good thing.

  Her hand still clutching her bleeding scalp, Linda nodded. She would talk. She’d now had firsthand experience with the nanobots.

  Ana extracted all the names she needed, and Linda handed over her comm card to boot. The device had been secured and encrypted against the most advanced cybersecurity software.

  But it only took Ana holding up the syringe filled with Reed’s invention to get the criminal CEO to unlock it and let all her secrets spill.

  ***

  Chris’s eye burned, and blood clouded his vision. She’d sliced his forehead, his brow, and the scalpel had come in contact with his eye right when Ana had acted. His eyelid shut tight, it was too early to know how badly she’d damaged his eye. He hoped it had been no more than a corneal scratch.

  He managed to turn on his comm card and record Ana’s questions for Linda—a move Ana shot him a quick thumbs up for. The pain ebbed and flowed as Ana questioned Linda. Throughout the unrelenting tides of agony, his mind swirled toward Robin and Jordan.

  Ana’s threats worked, and information poured from Linda like data poured from a hacked comm card. Robin would want to know he and Ana had done everything possible to stop Linda and the imminent danger of widespread prion disease.

  Robin always put herself before her patients, and Chris felt certain she’d resent him if he put her before her patients now.

  With his good eye, he kept watch at the lab’s entrance. His arm trembled when the pain in his right eye intensified. He managed to hold the machine pistol at the ready, but no other security drones or gunmen came charging after him, Ana, or Linda.

  When Reed started to come to, Chris stopped him with a blow to the head. He kept his gaze switching among the closed door to the hall, Linda, and Reed’s unconscious form. It was hard enough to keep his mind from melting under worry for Robin and Jordan while trying to provide a semblance of security for Ana; he could hardly listen to the words she spoke.

  He gathered that Ana had extracted a list of all the officials Linda Thomas and David Reed had recruited to their side, along with her plans for expanding the distribution of her genetic enhancement business. Linda had worked out a way to launder the windfall profits Protiomics would have received and provide an influx of capital to her black-market business.

  “I think that about settles it.” Ana scanned the comm card Linda had handed over. She shot Chris a stern look. “I have a pretty damn good idea now who’s going to be receptive over at the feds and who I can trust at the department. We can call for their help.” She secured Linda’s wrists with the leather straps that had once held Ana in the patient exam chair.

  Linda trembled, her face pale.

  “Call whoever you think can aid us,” Chris said. “We need to help Robin and Jordan.”

  “They came, too?”

  Chris pressed his palm into his eye as the pain swelled for a moment. He exhaled when it passed. “I didn’t do this alone.”

  “And you won’t be leaving alone.” Ana indicated Reed and Linda with a nod. “We need to take our new friends with us.”

  Chris kept his gun trained on Linda. For a moment, Ana looked unsure. She glanced around the room as if looking for something and chewed her bottom lip. He saw the dilemma now. There was no easy way they—injured and in pain—could transport the pair now in their custody. At least one of them would have to lug Reed around and, even with Chris’s or Ana’s gun at her back, Linda would be a flight risk.

  “All right, your husband, partner, whatever is an anesthesiologist, right? Likes to knock people out?”

  Linda nodded.

  “So does he happen to keep any of those goodies down here?”

  The CEO didn’t respond. Her eyes narrowed and her expression hardened until Ana pressed the hypodermic needle with Reed’s nanobots to her skin. She melted at once and pointed with a shaky finger at a refrigeration unit near the destroyed lab equipment.

  “Chris, will you be so kind?”

  Still holding his right eye, Chris used his left hand to scour the refrigeration unit. He pushed through the chemicals and vials until he found a small glass bottle labeled ISOFLORANE.

  This was no stock solution of normal liquid isoflorane ready to be vaporized and inhaled.

  In scribbled handwriting—likely Reed’s—were the words Nanobot Conjugated. Not only had Reed experimented with pain-causing nanobots, but he’d also dabbled in using those bots for the delivery of anesthetics. Chris found irony in the mad doctor’s research activities as he removed the solution.

  Examining the rest of the label, he saw Reed had even provided a dosage amount based on the weight of the intended patient. He took one of the unused sterile syringes and needles from the tray with the tools of torture Reed had set up.

  “Let’s put the patient to sleep, shall we?” Chris said.

  Linda started to push off from the chair.

  Ana shoved her back and held the hypodermic next to her skin. “It’s this needle or that one. Your choice.”

  Again, Linda acquiesced, and Chris injected her with her lover’s invention. For her sake, he wondered if the doctor had thoroughly tested the dosage. Then again, he found he didn’t care quite as much as he thought he should.

  They dumped several boxes of equipment off a rolling cart near the old microscope setups. With a concerted effort, they hoisted their two new charges onto the cart.

  “Much easier,” Ana said. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Ana pushed the cart and Chris led. His pulse throbbed in concert with the pain in his eye. All that faded the closer they got to where he had left Robin and Jordan. His heart sank when he saw the door to the room they’d holed up in hanging wide open.

  He sprinted in, whipping his gun up. Four men, dressed in the blue uniform of the hospital paramedics, huddled near the center of the floor. Two hospital security guards stood watching. At first Chris feared they were costumed goons, like those they’d run into earlier.

  But an ambulatory drone hovered overhead. It fed down two IV lines to the paramedics. One turned. He held up his hands as his eyes caught Chris’s gun.

  Chris dropped the machine pistol. “We’re on your side. We’re on your side.” The security guards disregarded his claims. One tackled him and cuffed his wrists. Ana’s own weapon clattered to the floor, and she didn’t resist as the other guard took her down.

  With the man’s hand pressing his head onto the cold tiles, Chris caught sight of the paramedics’ focus. Robin lay sprawled out, an oxygen mask over her face and an IV pumping into her arm.

  The guard barked orders into Chris’s ears. The words fell across him, weak as a tiny ripple in the vast ocean. He stared at Robin, waiting for a sign of life from her, anything to tell him she would be okay.

  Her eyelids trembled then twitched open for a second.

  He looked into those dark pools of brown until she flashed a brief smile.

  Just as soon as it appeared on her face, it dissipated, lost once again.

  But it was enough. That gesture assured Chris he’d done right by her. By her patients.

  Epilogue

  Chris waited
in the Baltimore PD holding cell nearest the hospital. Despite the mild pain relievers he’d been given by the paramedics, the pain in his eye intensified. It took every ounce of self-restraint he could muster to prevent himself from scratching at the haphazardly bandaged eye. “Come on, I need medical attention. Real medical attention.”

  But the steel door to the cell remained closed. He paced the small room, desperate to take his mind off his injured eye. He understood why he’d ended up here. Charging into the room where Jordan and Robin had been while brandishing a weapon warranted a harsh response from the hospital security guards. When he and Ana had carted in the unconscious forms of Linda Thomas and David Reed, he knew they made a suspicious sight. The evidence of the gunfights, bodies, and busted drones in the halls, didn’t do much to help his case.

  He stomped. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on with Robin Haynes?” He’d seen her for a brief moment before being handcuffed and taken away. He needed to see her again, to know she was okay.

  A hiss sounded, and the door slid back. A broad-shouldered man in a police uniform strode in. “Christopher Morgan. I’m Lieutenant Conway, Ana Dellaporta’s superior in the Bio Unit.”

  “Do you have news on Robin?”

  “The doctor? I’m afraid not.” Conway never offered his hand. “I’m not one to trust an ex-con like you, but Ana vouches for your alibi. She says you rescued her. If that’s the case, I owe you my gratitude.” He jabbed a thick finger at Chris’s chest. “But that doesn’t make up for your own criminal record.”

  “I understand. Am I being released, then? Can I go to the medical center?” Thoughts of Robin lying under the ambulatory drone and the paramedics raced through his mind again.

  “Soon enough.”

  Chris pressed his palm over his eye as the pain intensified. “What about Blackbird? Were the shipments ceased?”

  Conway nodded. “We got an emergency warrant, and their operation is under investigation effective immediately. But I’ll warn you, if you and your little gang are pulling our leg, if this is a big hoax...that constitutes a federal offense.”

  “I’m aware, Lieutenant. Am I free to go?”

  “Yes, head on out,” Conway said with a sigh.

  Chris rushed into the hall and almost ran into someone waiting outside the door. “Ana!”

  “I’ve got a ride waiting—” She leaned in, her eyes wide. “God, you don’t look so good. We’re going straight to the hospital.”

  She grabbed his arm and led him out.

  “Can we trust that guy?” Chris said through gritted teeth.

  “Conway? Yeah, I scoured through Linda’s comm card to make sure. She never once mentioned Conway. In fact, a message to her from Gordon Huff said Conway was going to be a pain in the ass—that they didn’t think it was worth the risk trying to pay him off.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Me, too,” Ana said. “Me, too.” She opened the door to the station and steered him toward an idling unmarked patrol car.

  They hopped in, and Ana set the destination to the University of Maryland Medical Center.

  “Have you heard anything about Robin?”

  “Unfortunately, not yet,” she said. “We’ve been busy around here, and you know how that damn patient privacy stuff works. In any case, we already issued a nationwide alert to the FDA and hospitals. They’re all aware of the potential prion contaminations and will keep an eye on outbreaks in any of their patients.”

  “Good.” Chris set his jaw as the fire in his eye intensified. The hospital—relief—appeared down the block.

  “I’m going to let you in on one more secret, but you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Promise.”

  “We got more information an hour ago when David Reed and Linda Thomas were officially charged and arrested. Alleged NSA documents, but I suspect our acquaintance in Korea had something to do with them.”

  “What? What documents?”

  “Supposedly, a whole bunch of people ranging from managers to research technicians were involved in the plot and worked for Linda and David.”

  “Vincent wanted revenge on these people. Sounds like he got it.”

  The car stopped in front of the hospital, and they exited. Chris marched to the emergency room intake desk. “I need to see Robin Haynes.”

  “Are you fam—” the woman behind the desk went slack jawed. “Sir, you need to see a doctor immediately.”

  “I promise I’ll be okay. It’s just a little pain, but I need to see Robin first. Please.” Chris pulled his hand away from his eye. Blood covered it.

  “God, Chris, she’s right,” Ana said.

  The woman tapped on a holodisplay behind the desk. A nurse jogged from one of the corridors and motioned for Ana to stay in the waiting room. The nurse grabbed Chris’s arm. “Come with me, sir.”

  “Can I please see Robin Haynes?”

  “We need to take care of you first.” She pulled Chris into one of the examination rooms and guided him to the exam chair. She peeled back the bandage, and her brow furrowed. “Oh...”

  A doctor burst through the door and leaned over the nurse’s shoulder. His face wrinkled and his nose scrunched. “Why didn’t you see a doctor sooner?”

  “I tried,” Chris said. “But it’s a long story.”

  “When did this injury occur?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think it’s been several hours.”

  The doctor grabbed a black cylindrical device with a lens on the end and positioned it over Chris’s eye. He looked through the device for a moment. “It appears like you have a nasty infection that’s progressed to the point of tissue necrosis.”

  Chris’s stomach churned. “You mean the tissue’s dead?”

  “I’m afraid so. I’m sorry. This is an uncommon but not unheard of problem.” He started typing on a holocomputer situated on a small counter. “Eye injuries can lead to rapid bacterial infections. Every once in a while, we see something like this in one of our patients in the hospital who scratches their cornea.” He continued tapping away at the comp, his back turned. “The unfortunate reality of our persistent use of antibiotics—especially in hospitals—is that bacteria have essentially evolved around our medicines. These so-called super bacteria spread fast and hit hard.”

  The doctor stopped typing and grabbed a small silicon chip from a drawer. He took a cotton swab in his other hand. “This might sting.” He swabbed Chris’s eye.

  The flames of pain flared, and Chris bit his tongue to prevent himself from yelping.

  “I’m going to run this test, and we’ll see if you’ve got one of those super bugs.” The doctor applied the swab to the chip. The device glowed green. “Unfortunately, it looks like I’m correct. The only way we can stop the advance of the necrotizing tissue is immediate surgical excision.”

  Everything the doctor had said swam in Chris’s mind in a blur. “You need to remove...my eye?”

  “That’s right. Doing so will save your life. Otherwise, this stuff will spread like wildfire.” He tapped on the holocomputer once more. “I’ve called the surgical staff. Now, I’ve got one more question for you. While you’re under, we can install an ocular implant to restore your vision if the ophthalmological surgeon warrants your remaining tissue infrastructure is good for it. Would you like to consent to that surgery as well? It can always be reversed.”

  Chris recalled the green glow he’d seen in the irises of those cybernetic junkies in Korea—like Vincent’s lackeys. He’d soon be like them. “Yes, I consent.”

  In a matter of minutes, the doctor and two other nurses placed him on a bed. One of the nurses administered an anesthetic, and Chris’s world slowly turned black.

  Hours later, when he awoke again, groggy and numb, he opened his left eye first. His good eye. He took in the sterile hospital room, its white walls and beige floor. Then, tentatively, he opened his right eye. For a moment, he saw nothing through it. Then black turned to pixelated fuzziness before the world beca
me sharp and clear. He directed his gaze around the room, testing out the new ocular implant. It was as if he’d never lost an eye.

  Thank you, science, Chris thought.

  His heart raced as he wondered how another patient in the hospital had fared. Robin.

  “You’re an engineer, as I understand.” A doctor with a pink tie and white coat sauntered in. He stood by Chris’s bedside.

  “Yes, I am. Can I go visit someone?”

  “Not yet. I’m the ophthalmologist that performed your surgery.”

  “Thanks,” Chris said. “I can’t believe how well it’s working, but I have to ask you about another patient.”

  The ophthalmologist held up a hand. “Mr. Morgan, I can’t tell you about other patients, you have to understand.” He sat on a stool. “Did everything autocalibrate properly? Are you having any vision problems in your new eye?”

  Chris shook his head. “No, it works great.” He drummed his fingers along the bed rail.

  “Okay, fantastic,” the doctor said. “Anyway, since you’re an engineer, I have to warn you. A lot of technically minded people have a tendency to toy with their cybernetics. I have to caution you against messing around with it, understood?”

  “Understood.”

  “Great.” The doctor stood and walked toward the door. He paused at the exit and said something to someone standing outside. “You can visit him now.”

  Chris’s pulse quickened again. Robin.

  Instead, Jordan meandered in, limping slightly. “Damn, am I glad to see you alive. Ana caught me and told me they took you in for an emergency procedure.”

  “Yeah, they gave me a new eye...”

  Jordan leaned on the bed rail. “We’re going to have all kinds of fun hacking that eye, aren’t we?” Jordan ticked the possibilities off on his fingers. “Infrared vision, target lock-on and locating, GPS overlay maps—”

  “Sounds great.” But despite all the new prospects of tampering with his implant, he hadn’t forgotten the eyes he truly cared about: two dark brown eyes that belonged to someone else. “Let’s go see Robin.”