“Where?”
“At OneMarket. They’re in the lobby now. Reyes is down there trying to say he doesn’t know where Weston is, just that he’s OK and somewhere on site. They’re threatening to stay until we find him. What are our options?”
“Shit. So you say we’re OK with Cleary, right? If he can’t support the story, then we can find ways to discredit anything Weston would say…”
“That’s what Tyler was thinking already—altering records to show that he was starting to have mental problems, and so discredit any ‘recollections’ he may try to disclose. But what about the wife and sister?”
“Let me think,” she snapped.
Simon clenched his jaws and tapped his foot as he waited. As successful as Maria had always been in dealing with tough issues, he worried that this situation might prove impossible to remedy.
“Here’s what we do. Now remember, this all relies on the paper trail being as clean as Tyler has represented—and the success of his implanting Cleary. Given those factors, don’t pursue Weston further. Let him leave. Let him try to say whatever.”
“What? God knows what he’s going to say to his wife!”
“Probably plenty. I don’t like it either, but what we can’t afford to have is any physical evidence from a forcible capture to help feed his story. Bad enough he’ll have some evidence—however small—of the removal of his implant. But at least we have Cleary and the device in our hands now. Fix his records ASAP to support the mental instability story. If he says a word, we use it—and Cleary can’t back him up.”
Simon thought about it for a moment. He didn’t like the idea of losing control of Weston, but Maria made a good point about avoiding further physical evidence. “All right, I’ll let Victor know. But what about the wife and sister? They’ve said they won’t leave until they see him.”
“Enlist their help. The wife would know which car Weston drove in today. Let her check the parking lot for it. If it’s there, let them wait if they want. If it’s not, suggest they go home. If he shows up and starts spouting off about the device, we act just as surprised as anyone. When pressed, we have Tyler reference the records indicating Weston was starting to slip.”
“We’ll play it that way. Thanks.” Simon switched back to Victor and explained Maria’s strategy. “Let Kimball know immediately, and have him inform Reyes out of earshot of the women. Have your men stop looking for Weston.”
Simon clicked off the phone and tossed it onto the leather couch beside him. He felt a little better than he had before running things past Maria.
At least they had Cleary and the device.
CHAPTER 63
Mark had never concerned himself with the workings of OneMarket’s Security force. Now, crouched like a fugitive in the darkness near the clinic’s rear entrance, he wished for even a cursory knowledge of its size and setup. Was the car that found Cleary one of the two that had been blocking the OneMarket exit? Or were there other Security cars on site, even this late in the evening? He wasn’t even sure what the stakes were if he guessed wrong.
He glanced once more at the clinic’s door to see if he could discern any silhouettes through its window. Didn’t appear to be, though he couldn’t swear it was clear, either. But they wouldn’t stay in there forever. Sooner or later, they’d come out and move their car.
Their car!
Mark threw out the idea almost as quickly as it came to him. Even if they’d left the keys in it, he could probably prowl the grounds in the car, but leaving would be another story. There’d be no reason to take a OneMarket Security car off the property. He’d be pursued and likely caught.
He didn’t like any of his choices, but he knew he couldn’t just hide there forever. Though he didn’t have a story ready, he decided to try for the ambulance.
Mark knew he had to move quickly once he abandoned the cover of the bushes. He took one more look at the clinic door’s window, then started off in a crouching run around the back of the building toward the front, avoiding the parking lot lights as best he could.
Heart pounding and cotton-mouthed, he halted and squatted beside a bush near the corner of the building and peered around. The ambulance and fire truck had left! He’d waited too long. He frantically tried to think of another way out. He saw several cars still parked out front, but he didn’t actually know how to steal one. He’d probably cause a commotion and get caught. Walking out wasn’t an option—they’d caught Cleary easily enough.
He didn’t dare call Sheila for help. If the roadblock was still there, she’d hit it. Not being an employee, she wouldn’t be able to talk her way past the front lobby, and she didn’t have a security card to get in the other entrances.
Mark’s shoulders sagged and his stomach felt hollow as he realized it all came down to one choice, one shot.
As he skulked back through the shadows to where he’d left his 4Runner, he tried to visualize how the road block had been positioned and how wide the road was there.
He got in, fastened his seatbelt firmly, squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He’d likely wreck the truck—hopefully not so badly that it couldn’t be driven. He might even injure himself, but he couldn’t stay here indefinitely trapped like an animal. He started the engine before he could think too much about the possible consequences.
Mark glanced toward the rear of the clinic. The Security car hadn’t moved yet. Maybe they were in there shooting the breeze. He hoped they stayed there a while longer. Less of them on the prowl improved his chances a little.
He released the brake and started to move slowly through the parking lot, headlights off. He crept around the periphery, laying low as long as possible—and working up his nerve.
His hands trembled, so he gripped the steering wheel harder to try to steady himself. He focused on what waited for him beyond the roadblock. He had to get through it; it was the only barrier keeping him from the safety of home. From there, he could figure it all out. He could tell Sheila everything. But for now, he had to concentrate on the roadblock, nothing else.
He arrived at the start of the exit road. He pressed the accelerator and held his breath.
“Excuse me a moment.” Reyes hastily turned and went to see the guard, who had just called him over.
“I don’t know what else to do!” Sheila’s eyes burned with barely suppressed tears. “I feel so powerless! All I want is to see Mark, see that he’s OK.”
Molly took her hand and tried to smile reassuringly. “We’ll wait here and keep the pressure on them until they do something. I’m staying with you until this is over.”
“Thank you.” Sheila was glad for Molly’s presence. Anger and worry had exhausted her, and she dared not lose her resolve now, even in the face of Reyes’ stonewalling. Molly’s stubbornness was welcome support.
Reyes returned with a slightly relieved look on his face. Sheila wondered what he was up to.
“The guard just had a really good suggestion. He was thinking since you’d know which car Mark drove in today, you could go out and check for it. If it’s not here, then he must have left, even though his workspace looked to me as if he were still here.” He pressed his hand to his heart to feign sincerity. “If it’s still there, then I’ll get hold of him soon enough and let him know you’re both waiting for him down here. Sound good?”
Molly eyed Reyes suspiciously as she asked Sheila, “Did he bring the 4Runner today? I’ll go check. You can stay here so they don’t lock the doors behind us.”
Sheila nodded. “Yeah, he did.”
Mark fought the urge to shut his eyes like a kid in an extreme amusement park ride. He reminded himself there was no assurance of safety, no second chance here. He had the steering wheel in a death grip and forced himself to keep his foot on the accelerator. He flicked the headlights on to their high beams both to illuminate and to blind anyone in his path.
He rounded the curve as he had earlier with Cleary, seemingly days ago. He clenched his teeth, anticipating the roadblock.
His headlights stabbed into blackness, and nothing more. Mark blinked in disbelief. No Security cars! No lights, no roadblock. He accelerated to sixty, aiming for the traffic signal at the end of the private road.
Molly returned to the lobby with a puzzled look on her face and sat down across from Sheila. “Well, I’m not sure how I feel about this, but Mark’s 4Runner is not in the lot. There aren’t many cars left at all now.”
Numb, Sheila tried to digest the news. Reyes had left her alone in the lobby when Molly went outside to check the lot. She’d sat motionless in her chair, feeling like time had suspended while she waited under the watchful eye of the silent guard. Now she was just as puzzled as Molly. If Mark wasn’t here, then where was he? When had he left?
“C’mon. Might as well go home.” Molly helped her up. “We’ll call the police from there. They might have some ideas of what we can do.”
Too stunned to speak, Sheila let Molly lead her out to her car. At least she’d feel more comfortable at home, instead of sitting in this cold, horrible place with that guard staring at her.
CHAPTER 64
Josh leaned forward, his shoulders tight, his eyes wide open and strained as if the energy of his tension would speed up the process. After several minutes, a message popped up on the screen, indicating that the program had successfully wiped out Cleary’s memory of Genesis and the evening’s events.
He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh of relief. He felt only somewhat better. He couldn’t rest while Weston was still loose. Security had to catch him. As long as he could get his hands on the other half of the implant, then everything else would work out. Cleary couldn’t talk, and they could make Weston look like a mental case.
In the meantime, he could probably release Cleary to those Security creeps. He stood and was just about to return to the exam room when his phone rang. He stepped back and glanced at the caller ID before picking up.
“This is Harris. What’s our status with Cleary?”
“All set. I was just about to release him to the Security guards. Any word on Weston?”
“No. Never found him. His wife and sister-in-law showed up in the lobby looking for him—just what we needed on top of everything. Maria advised us to let him go. Didn’t need any physical evidence of catching him—it would weaken our story.”
Josh suddenly felt cold. “What story?”
“We were going to be ready to discredit Weston by altering his files to show he was developing mental problems. It was your suggestion, remember?” Harris’ voice plainly showed his irritation.
“Oh. Yes.”
“So, you need to get to work right away on making sure the files reflect that. We need to be ready when he turns up.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“So you’ll get right on it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’ll keep you posted if anything else develops.”
Josh’s legs suddenly felt weak. He hung up the phone and sat down. He felt physically weighed down as the enormity of the problem hit him, and he tried to sort through the best case and worst case.
There was no best case.
Maybe he should have told Harris that Weston had the other half of the device as soon as he’d found out. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been so willing to drop the idea of catching him. But he’d hoped that Security would have found Weston before it became an issue.
He should have known better than to have taken that risk.
Now it was too late. He didn’t dare tell Harris now. He could doctor the files all he wanted, but if Weston waved his half of the implant around while telling his story…
All he’d worked for was going to be destroyed. And he’d go down with it. He couldn’t allow that. Josh re-opened the load program for Cleary’s Genesis device. Then he sat back and worked through possible scenarios. He had to stay cool, concentrate. Not panic. He’d figure something out.
About twenty minutes later, Josh had an idea. He turned it over and over in his head, probing for holes, and found it reasonably secure. He typed in the necessary information, then uploaded it to Cleary’s implant. Once he confirmed it had successfully loaded, he went out and found the two Security goons laughing and talking in the clinic lobby. “I’m done. He’s still in the exam room. You can remove his restraints and let him go when he’s recovered from the Taser.”
The men nodded and went to the exam room to deal with Cleary. Josh waited until they were out of sight, then hurried to the supply room for a box. He took it to his office and loaded his personal effects and critical papers into it. He worked quickly, making sure he got the important items in the box, but without taking time to organize them. He’d deal with that later. Then he shut down and disconnected his computer.
Taking care to avoid running into the Security men, he made several furtive trips to load the box and the computer into his car. Josh returned to his office once more to make sure there was nothing else of importance left. He patted his pocket where he’d put Cleary’s half of Weston’s implant. Satisfied, he closed the door and locked it, then returned to the exam room. “How’s he doing?”
The restraints had been removed, but Cleary was still reclining in the exam chair. One of the Security men was checking Cleary’s reflexes while the other stood by and spoke. “He’s still pretty messed up, but he’ll be OK. We’ll stay with him until he is.”
Josh resisted the urge to say something to Cleary to test the upload. He didn’t want to needlessly reveal anything in front of the Security guards. “Good. Thanks. I’m leaving for the evening now. Just lock up behind yourselves.”
“Sure thing.”
Josh slipped out the back door of the clinic, allowing himself no time for regret. He’d think about it all later. He got in his car and drove toward the exit. At least he’d covered himself.
In Cleary’s world now, Josh had been the unwilling participant, forced to create and implement Genesis by Harris, who knew—but didn’t care—that it hadn’t yet been tested on humans. Cleary had removed Weston’s device tonight to prevent problems when he realized Simmons’ death had been caused by his implant. And he had received Josh’s verbal resignation this evening.
Harris would fall, Cleary would fall. OneMarket would fall. At least he’d have that much satisfaction. It was the best outcome he could salvage at this point. He was glad his contract had included a large payment up front. That money would come in handy now.
He’d have time to plan something new while he watched OneMarket’s implosion.
CHAPTER 65
Weary, Simon Harris rubbed his eyes as he slumped in his Aeron executive chair. Stacks of papers littered his normally tidy oak desk. He rose, stepped to the far side of his penthouse office, and opened the polished wood panel that concealed a small wet bar. In better days, he’d kept it ready for entertaining potential clients and toasting new successes.
He poured himself half a glass of single malt scotch. No ice, no water. No need.
He moved to the tinted glass wall that overlooked the OneMarket campus and gazed out at his creation in the waning light. The parking lot was nearly empty, though it was barely sunset. Rats deserting the ship. Many of his employees had simply quit when the scandal first broke; the rest had stopped putting in long hours. And of course, OneMarket’s famous uptime had faltered—badly. The financials were blood-red with losses from all the ensuing contractual penalties.
Harris took a deep gulp of his drink. Out on bail. He’d always pressed the envelope in his business ventures, but he never dreamed these three words would ever apply to him. He shook his head and drank some more.
Cutting that fucker Weston and his wife a generous check did not buy their silence. They went ahead and tipped off the press and the police. That started the scandal and the ensuing criminal investigation. Cleary laid everything on Harris in his own twisted version of the story. Harris denied knowing that Genesis had never been properly tested before he ordered its implementation, but the public smell
ed blood and the jury appeared unwilling to believe him.
They were just jealous. Jealous of what he had built, eager to bring down someone as successful as him. The general public hates success, hates what they can’t have.
Had this not happened, had Genesis succeeded, he would have created a whole new kind of workforce. He took another sip and smiled slightly. No one would have been able to stop OneMarket—or any other venture he might have undertaken.
He looked back out over the OneMarket campus as darkness fell, then downed the rest of his drink in one swallow. He walked over to his desk, set down the glass amid the jumbled papers, and gazed at his collection of framed photographs. The rich and powerful had been his peers; now they wouldn’t even return his calls. Funny what an indictment and likely conviction could do.
Harris glanced at his antique watches, set like complex jewels in the glass case, then switched off the xenon display lights. He left his office and took his private elevator down to where his car was parked.
Harris slipped behind the wheel of his red Lotus Evora and turned the key. He decided to take the canyon roads back to his house tonight. He wanted to be alone, away from traffic, and wanted to enjoy his low-slung car’s handling on the curves.
The Lotus nimbly danced along the winding route, its headlights the only illumination on this moonless night. Harris enjoyed its smooth power and the roar of the engine. He felt at one with the exquisite machine. He pushed it harder, edging up to 80 miles per hour on a road marked for 50.
Out on bail.
The trial was going poorly. His attorney was already preparing for the inevitable appeal. In the meantime, Harris would likely face prison for some period of time, even if the appeal eventually succeeded. OneMarket was already on life support; he’d already had to infuse it with significant personal funds just to cover the contractual penalties.
Harris could hear the tires squealing as he took each curve a little faster than the last. He glanced ahead at the yellow warning sign.
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