Albert strolled to the far side of the penthouse and set his briefcase next to a thin glass computer monitor before continuing onward toward the fully stocked wet bar.
"I believe a drink is in order,” he said, scanning the crystal vessels containing various spirits.
Three ice cubes clinked as they hit the bottom of the glass, followed delicately by three ounces of premium vodka. Next, Albert squeezed a lemon wedge and finished with the introduction of his favorite component, a mint leaf.
He took a sip and savored the flavors. "Very much needed.”
He sank into the chair and began typing notes on a word processing program. Four refills and four hours of tedious documentation later, Albert sent the files to their designated recipients and logged off.
"LIA, call mother," he said, sipping the lemon-mint infused vodka.
From inside her private jet, Elizabeth Baron answered, face taking over the entirety of the screen. The in-flight atmospheric sounds were cut out, allowing for clear, crisp communication. "Albert, how are you, darling?" she asked, voice indicating minor intoxication.
"I'm fine, mother," he replied, observing everything as he always did. In the split second that it took for Liz to pass off her empty martini, Albert noticed a very particular ring on the hand that accepted the glass. "You normally pick up faster than that. Is everything okay?"
“Yes, everything is fine, just been dealing with the fallout from the day’s unfortunate sequence of events," she said, settling back.
"Are you alone?"
Liz rolled her eyes. "Yes, talk."
Interesting she would lie to me, he thought. He propped up his feet on the desk and said, "Very well. I am calling to give you the update as requested. Ambrosia is still working with zero side effects. I have sent over the most recent test footage. Check your email…"
For the next few minutes, Liz watched a recording of the three test subjects. Albert couldn't help but smile as he observed his mother's face twist into a villainous grin. He finished his cocktail and placed the sweating glass directly on the wooden desk.
"Everything is going according to plan," he continued. "The trucks will be arriving tomorrow, loaded and sent off no later than twenty-one hundred hours local time. The truck that was intended for Blue Springs will remain on site until I figure out an alternative location."
"You mean untilIfigure out an alternative location," she corrected. "Now, what of security until the trucks reach their destinations?"
"Yes, after all, you are the one in charge.” Despite the monotonic reply, the sarcasm went unnoticed as Liz accepted a filled martini glass. "The other four trucks will continue as planned. Since trucks 5 and 4 have the furthest destinations, they will depart first, then 3 and 2. Factoring real time atmospheric conditions, unforeseen variables, and fueling stops, upon departure, truck 5 should arrive by 1000 hours five days later, truck 4 by 1400 hours in four days, truck 3 by 1900 hours in three and a half days, and truck 2 by 2200 hours in three days, that is, if the tornados forming in northern Texas don't tear up the roads."
Irritated, Liz replied, "I asked about security."
Maybe you should not drink so much while reviewing business, Mother, Albert wanted say, though a suggestion like that was certain to prompt unwanted discipline. "Indeed you did. Each truck will have one armed escort with five Guardsmen. The routes I’ve chosen should have limited interference from infected, so security should have no problems protecting their respective truck."
"Excellent work, son."
Albert nodded and rose to make himself another drink. "And what are your plans?"
"I am flying back home to oversee the end of phase two and the transition into phase three. Additionally, I would like to figure out who else Shanna Finley may have told," Liz stated before pausing to take a large sip. "I still find it hard to believe that she 'accidentally' forgot her notes in the broadcast room inside Eagle's Landing; worst timing ever. I blame myself for not being more careful."
"There was no way for you to have known," Albert said, sitting down with a full glass, this time the darker liquor hinted of Caribbean rum. "I recall the exact event. After she and the President left the communications room, I stepped outside and watched them walk away. She must have turned just as I came back inside. Now we can debate the past, but what’s done, is done. Do not blame yourself for events beyond your control.”
“Kind words, thank you, dear.”
“Of course,” Albert smirked as Liz looked away. “Since we are on the subject of failures, what are you going to do with my beloved brother, Daytona?"
It wasn't the alcohol that caused her lips to tighten. "I'm still figuring that out."
"Excuse me one moment, Mother," Albert said, pausing as a light rapping came from the door. Using the glass computer, he accessed the security camera positioned outside the room.
Writhing and petitioning to be released from the muscular grips of two rough-looking Guardsmen, was test subject Number Four.
Imbeciles are two minutes early, he thought, pressing a button on the glass monitor; the action enabled communication to the security personnel. "Remain there. I will be with you shortly. Sorry, Mother, please continue."
For the second time during the video conference, Liz consumed the entirety of her beverage. She wiped her lips and the dribbles of vodka that did not make it into her mouth. "I forgot what I was saying," she replied, chuckling at her own inebriation.
I know that laugh, Albert confirmed, as he heard a very distinct laugh join in with his mother's. "Is there anything else you would like to be informed about?"
"No, that will be all. Just make sure that everything runs smoothly and remain on site until all trucks have departed."
"Certainly. I won't be a disappointment like others in our family. I will contact you later," he said, ending the conversation manually by swiping the screen away. "LIA, open the door."
The Guardsmen easily managed to drag Subject Four inside the room, despite her writhing efforts. A combination of their tight grips and yanking motions were certain to leave bruises and internal injuries.
"Enough of that," Albert commanded, putting his hand up to stop their savage techniques. "Your brute ways are quite unnecessary. Now leave us."
"But sir-"
"But nothing! The way you are treating this woman is unacceptable," he said, eyes finding hers. "She isn't a prisoner and shouldn't be treated like one. So unless you would like your contracts terminated, I suggest you say nothing and leave us this instant."
“Yes, sir,” the Guards grumbled.
Julie McNally massaged her liberated wrists. "That's what I've been saying!"
That should buy me some rapport, he thought, smiling on the inside.
"Welcome, my name is Albert," he said, voice calm and trusting. Despite his extended hand and passive demeanor, he could sense the woman felt anything but welcome.
Arms crossed, hands tucked into her pits, nervous shuffle...I always enjoy a good challenge.
"I do apologize for those men, sometimes I wonder if they were raised with any manners at all. I will speak with them later."
"Look, thanks, but I don't give a rat's ass who you are. I don't know what the hell is going on, but you guys are holding us against our will, and I want to know where my friends are, and I want you to take me to them right now!"
Albert offered his best sympathetic smile; a look he had spent a lifetime mastering for manipulations such as this. "You're right," he began, walking to the sofa situated in front of the fireplace. He sat, strategically leaving the side nearest the heat open for her. "Julie is it?"
Her reply was quick and blunt. "Ya."
"Well, Julie, we did hold you against your will, and for that I apologize greatly. Contrary to what you may think, we have done this for your own good."
"Own good? I'd love to hear this one."
"It is the truth. See, we have been working with the government on a vaccine. I'm sure you heard the radio broadcast."
Julie’s suspicion was evidently portrayed through lowered eyebrows. "No, we haven't heard any broadcast."
"You didn't hear the broadcast President Tufase made?"
"We haven't exactly been staying at the Hilton. We've been backpacking through the desert since our car broke down."
"Of course, I understand. Life has been hard."
Julie snorted and spun in a full three-sixty. "Food, drinks, and a place that keeps those things out...I can see how hard life has been for you people.”
Albert stared at the refreshing alcoholic beverage in his grasp, agreeing with the symbolic "lap of luxury" that it connoted. "As I was saying, we finally found a vaccine, and what we administered to you and your group was such. I apologize for the lack of information and what may have seemed like hostile behavior, but our interests were purely based in good intentions."
"You guys have a vaccine?" she said, tilting her head in disbelief. "There's no way. There can't be a vaccine for what's out there."
Arms dropping to her side, taking steps closer...she is starting to come around. Reel her in now.
"Well, Julie, I assure you there is, and what's better than that, is you and your friends no longer have to worry about contracting the virus. That's why we have been keeping you here. We had to make sure your bodies accepted the vaccine and that no side effects manifested. You are all free to leave whenever you would like."
"We can leave now?" she asked incredulously.
"Of course, though, I would recommend waiting until the morning. Like I said, you were never prisoners here, we aren't barbarians, we are scientists," he said, selling his lie with a grin. Then he touched his palm to his forehead and rose to his feet. "Forgive me, Julie, where are my manners? Is there anything I can get for you? Maybe some food? Or perhaps a drink? I'm guessing you are a vodka and cranberry kind of girl-"
"I want to see my friends, I want to see Pat," she said, body posed standoffishly.
Albert could have stopped and given her what she wanted, but that wasn't what he wanted, and he always got what he wanted. So, he carried on making her an unrequested cocktail saying, "Absolutely, and I am sure they are excited to see you, but so that you are aware, Mr. Clauson was complaining of abdominal pains, and when our doctors inspected his stomach, they found a parasite in his intestinal tract. He is being treated now."
"What? Are you serious?"
"Yes, I am," Albert began, but his subterfuge backfired, as the details he continued to fabricate only served to further drive away Julie. "I believe the doctors identified it as a roundworm. I'm guessing he contracted it through unsanitary water. It's a minor treatment, which I have asked my staff to monitor closely. So, unfortunately, you won't be able to see him for a few hours."
"I know what roundworms are. They are among common helminths. I know that because I was a physician’s assistant," she stated matter-of-factly. "It doesn't require surgery, meds will do. So, I want to see Pat now. Take me to him."
So much for taking the hero/seductive route. Now, on to more persuasive tactics.
Albert smiled, but this time, it wasn't the same comforting, inviting smile as it had been. This smile was different. This smile was darker.
"You came in with a group of eight, and you have mentioned no one else by first name. I wonder, do you and Mr. Clauson have something going on?"
"That's none of your business," Julie responded, picking up on the mood swing. Slowly, she began backing up to the door. "Look, thanks for everything you and your people have done, but this is getting a little weird. I want to leave."
Albert set down the completed cocktails and sighed. "Of course. I will have you taken to your group at once, but before you go, may I ask you one question?"
"Fine, whatever, just make it quick."
Albert unlocked the briefcase, and the sphere rose. "Do you find me attractive?"
“What? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Humor me.”
"You promise I can go after I answer?"
Albert nodded.
"Honestly, no, not really. Don’t take it personally, but I have never been attracted to white guys."
"Oh, I see. It is a matter of ethnic decent," he said, cupping the sphere with his hand.
"I answered your weird question, so can I go now?" Julie walked to the door giving her back to Albert.
Albert closed his eyes and asked, “Are you sure you aren’t sexually attracted to me?”
"I told you I don't like…" she started to say, but stumbled in word and footing.
Despite witnessing the blue pulse emanate from underneath her skin, Julie had no concern. Subtly and slowly, she caressed her hands over her lips, down her lightly perspired neck, ending in her cleavage. Her nose widened like an animal detecting faint pheromones.
"Was it always this warm in here?" she mumbled.
Albert repeated himself.
Julie turned back to him and replied, "I-I do."
"And what do you think of black men?"
"Not my type. I don’t know why I said I liked them. Maybe I was nervous.”
Albert grabbed both drinks and led Julie to the couch.
"Turn around and drink it," he whispered in her ear, and his wish was her command.
Albert's fingers massaged her muscles with perfect pressure. "Amazing," she moaned, rolling her head in pleasure. Then her eyes fell upon a portrait of the Las Vegas skyline. "Shame I've never been."
"Twenty-nine and never been to Vegas? Tragic," he said, leaning in and kissing her on the neck, then just behind the ear.
An orgasmic tremor ran through her body; goose bumps rose in the exact places his lips caressed. No longer could Julie contain herself. She turned around and thrust her body on Albert, sucking his lips in between searching his mouth with her tongue.
After a minute of passionate kissing, she retracted, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, I've never been like this."
"No need to apologize."
"It's just that I'm really into you, I don't know what has gotten into me, but I can't control myself."
I would be surprised if you could, he thought, chuckling. Using condensation from the cocktail glass, he dragged a moist hand through his hair, flattening the long strands. "So, would you like to go to Vegas?"
She giggled and playfully hit his thigh. "We're hundreds of miles away, and the city has to be crawling with those things."
He placed his hand above her knees and slowly slid upward. "Julie, I own a private helicopter that can have us there in a few hours," he said, stopping just centimeters from her groin. "Though, we should get some rest tonight if you'd like."
Abruptly, she placed her hand on his, and for the slightest of moments, Albert assumed she was going to remove it. In fact, she dragged it along the curve of her vagina, rubbing his hand up and down, slowly but firm.
Julie leaned in and whispered in his ear. "I was kind of hoping we could just sleep on the way there.”
Then she tore off his suit and helped him rip away her clothes, and beginning on the sofa, the two went at it in the glow of the fire light.
Wincolt, Nevada
November 30, 2009
1803 hours
Alex finished a can of Red Bull, and then gave himself a few gentle slaps on the cheek. He had spent the entire drive to Eagle's Landing awake, watching over and caring for Collin, and now sleep was catching up to him like demons in a nightmare.
He looked at the analogue display on the dash of the military service truck.Last time you slept was...shit, do you remember? Was it coming back on the boat from Vancouver? Maybe?So that was like what, a day and a half ago? Geez, I'm exhausted.
But as tired as he was, flashes of anger burning inside him staved away dreamland and whatever demons awaited. Steve and the others had kept him from exile, but despite their support, Alex knew he was becoming a pariah.
First, they'll make you drive alone, then eat alone, then lock you up when you sleep, he thought, following the slippery slope of inevi
table causality of someone infected with Trinity.
Then he looked over at the passenger seat, and a warmth pacified him.
Lisa was sitting upright, fighting to stay awake.
She's a strong woman, Alex thought, and then said, "Just close your eyes for a bit, Lis."
She shook her head ever so slightly, then reached out and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. She found Alex's sweet spot and scratched. "Nope. If you're not sleeping, neither will I."
"Ahh, that feels so good, but that will definitely make me fall asleep," he said, grabbing her hand. He interlocked his fingers with hers and kissed it. "Thanks, though."
"How are you feeling?"
Alex signed “okay” and smiled. “Told you I would practice my sign lang-"
A wave of coughing caused him to stop mid-sentence. The stomach contractions were violent and heavy, like an asthmatic suffering from a severe attack.
“Here, take the canteen and drink, I’ll hold on to the wheel.”
The first bit of water sprayed onto the windshield as Alex was unable to swallow; the subsequent sips were taken in with minimal loss.
"How many hours has it been?”
Alex knew she wasn't referring to sleep. "Just about twelve," he answered, voice weak and unable to be cleared. He handed back the canteen and resumed steering.
"Alex-"
"I know what you're thinking, but honestly, I feel fine."
He wasn't entirely convinced in his own response, but he did believe a white lie was better than doubt. "It's all that smoke from the bunker. It just clogged me up. Really, I'm fine," he said, selling the lie with a kiss on her hand.
"I just don't get it, you're stillyou," Lisa began, though pausing to avoid the wrong words. "You're still alive and you should be treated like part of the group. That Jones guy is a real asshole and that Agent-"
Alex began to chuckle.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Alex answered, but her look made him reconsider withholding. "It's you. I can tell you are a fighter. You're passionate. You stand behind what you believe in even if it's against the norm. That was rare even before all this and even rarer these days, plus, you are really cute when you get upset."
The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side Page 10
