Hal smiled. “Forgot huh? So what did you do? Go back to bed?”
“Nope. I opened my front door when someone started to knock and I let Henry in my house. Christ, he was there asking me if he was dressed all right, was he having a good enough hair day, would people like him, and how should he act.”
“Don’t you worry about him?”
“Nah,” Joe shook his head. “Henry will be fine. Trust me.”
“I have to, Dad, because until you emerge from retirement . . . ” Hal let out a worried breath. “He’s our leader as well.”
Joe had a sneakiness to his chuckle as he laid a hand on Hal’s back and led him into distribution. There was an extra bright spot that made retirement worthwhile on this day. Joe didn’t have leader responsibilities to deal with and because of that, he got to spend that time with his son before Hal headed back down to Bowman.
^^^^
Robbie held the unscheduled security meeting at the training area. Solace and sadness was the air of demeanor with everyone as they sat around Robbie while he talked.
“Some sort of wild animal,” Robbie explained, “is what Dean told me this morning. As of yet, they are still trying to pin point it and . . . . if there is more than one of them. If that’s the case, we are gonna have to begin a hunt. We can’t take a chance of whatever that got Marv, getting in here. Now . . .” Robbie flipped a page of his notes. “Marv died in the line of duty. Marv also died while gathering points for . . . for the Neville competition. The Neville Committee approached me this morning and wanted me to present you with these suggestions. Either we give Marv an honorary Neville win or we make him Neville and the competition continues, handling it like the former Miss America pageant where the winner takes it from Marv. Feedback?” Robbie saw Dan’s hand raised. “Yes, Dan?”
“So he would be the first official Neville?”
“Yes,” Robbie answered.
“Hmm.” Dan swayed his head. “O.K., not like I’m being a dick or anything but . . . but, Marv was a nice guy in all, but he was no Neville. I don’t think it would be fair to you or me or anyone else who is up there in Neville points to make him a winner just because he died.”
“True,” Robbie stated. “However, wouldn’t it be the kind and brotherhood thing to do?”
Dan fluttered his lips. “Kind is one thing. Brotherhood is another. Robbie, this is competition. Come on. Do you want to go down in History as someone that was the second Neville competition winner? Or someone that lost to Marv?”
Robbie knew the answer. He knew what he wanted to say. “O.K., let’s put it to a vote. Fair is fair and it is Marv’s memory we’re talking about. O.K., all in favor of letting Marv be Neville or the reigning Neville, give me a yeah.” Robbie listened to the grumbles and clearing of throats. He watched his men lower their heads, shift their eyes, and pretend they were ashamed. “All right. All against, give me a big ‘ooh-rah’.” Robbie cringed and his ear rang when the intrusion of voices shouted out at him what they wanted. Even though they were all fond of Marv, they were more fond of being Neville. “O.K.” Robbie tossed up his hands. “Neville competition continues and, we’ll . . . we’ll uh mention Marv’s name at the ceremony. Gentlemen, you can return to work. Anyone wanting special detail to deal with this animal see me.”
^^^^
Binghamton, Alabama
With visions flowing through his mind of his own decaying body lying in the woods somewhere, a portion of his head missing, Richie held tightly to his tool box and hesitantly walked through the laboratory door. They wore white lab coats, worked on placing together lab equipment and the new scientist all spun on their swivel chairs to look at Richie when he entered.
Did he look like their next subject? Richie wondered staring back at the faces. “I uh . . . I got a work order for a cooler.” He didn’t receive any answer. “O.K., I’ll just uh . . . figure it out. Thanks.” No one pointed him in the right direction and no one said a word. They returned to their work as Richie waltzed through. Richie had to give it to Frank. He argued with Frank telling him that the bogus work order would be a major slip up. These were highly intelligent men. They would realize they didn’t request one. But Frank insisted that even though they would wonder about the order, they were all too pompous to question it. How embarrassing it would be for scientist ‘A’ to ask Richie in front of the others and have scientist ‘B’ stand up, humiliating him by saying there is a problem with a cooler.
As obscure as Frank’s thinking was, it got Richie through the main lab and to the back where all coolers were. The large room was filled with them and Richie cringed. How was he going to find this vial with all those long freezers? Stepping to the first one, he noticed the small glass window by the other door. Through it, he saw another lab.
“Look for a mini fridge.” Frank’s instructions repeated in Richie’s mind. “Chances are that’s where a vial is kept. The large batches may be in the long freezers.”
On the counter in the empty lab, Richie saw the short silver refrigerator, a biohazard sign on the front. No one was in that back room lit only by a dull table fluorescent lamp. So Richie peeked out the door he walked though, checked on the busy scientists in the main lab, and walked through the cooler room to the other lab. The lab smelled of newness and disinfectant and looked as if were never used. With that scenario in his mind, Richie guessed the fridge would be empty but it was worth a chance. Even if he didn’t discover the Salicain in there, he discovered something else, a lab he knew nothing about. And if that was there, how many others were too?
He set down his tool box next to the silver counter fridge. He reached for the handle, hopping it wasn’t locked. When he pulled, he found out it wasn’t.
Richie felt the cold air hit against his stomach and breeze through his tee -shirt and he bent down, peering his face through the crack. Vials upon vials were lined up in the fridge. No sooner did Richie’s eyes graze across the middle shelf and see to the left, the vial marked ‘Salicain’, the fridge door closed. Richie’s views looked up to the hand on the door. A scientist stood there.
“This isn’t the one.” Richie smiled. “She’s uh . . . . working fine.” He crinkled his nose as he grabbed his tool box and walked backwards, pointing to the cooler room with his thumb. “I’ll start on the big ones in uh . . . in there.” Richie spun around and allowed his back to face the large male scientist that busted him. He deeply the anxiety as he let out in his breathing and tried to calm his racing heart as he moved to the cooler room. Nothing helped. His hands shook, his heart pounded. And even though he found the vial of Salicain, Richie couldn’t clear his mind of the thoughts, that if he kept on listening to Frank, he really would end up a dead man.
^^^^
Quantico Marine Headquarters
“Truck is in secondary position.” Stewart laid a folder in front of George on his desk. “They’ll move into position as soon as the final surveillance flight is made.”
“Good.” George flipped open the folder. “The train is ready for the trip as well?”
“Yes sir,” Stewart answered. “We estimate five hours by truck to the train and another seven to Binghamton.”
“And is everything in Binghamton prepared?”
“Yes.” Stewart nodded. “Construction and remodeling was completed on the home.”
“CME’s?”
“Prepped and ready for your orders. Sgt. Landers says they are ready to move out.”
“Excellent, excellent. Let’s let the new arrival get settled in Binghamton first. Tell Sgt. Landers to look at a move date of September 27th or 28th.”
“President Hadley, genetics sent a note. It’s in there.”
“Where?” George adjusted his glasses then saw the yellow Post-It. “God, is he still using these?” George un-stuck it, lifted it, and read. After, he looked back to Stewart. “Tell the labs to keep a close eye out. I may not know much about this, but it seems to be too early. Contact me in another week or so, otherwise don’t bother
me.”
“I think he wants Dr. Hayes’ opinion on . . .”
“Dr. Hayes has adjusting of his own to do first and then he will get to work on the virology and genetic material. Until then, tell the labs they have to wait.”
“Yes sir.” Stewart took the Post-It note from George. It stuck to his thumb and then fingers as he switched it. Finally, he gave up and wrinkled it up. He stood there waiting to engage in more conversation with his leader and when Stewart realized he was being ignored, he took that as his clue and left.
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
“Dean?” Ellen called out into the cryo-lab as she walked in. “Dean?” Ellen set down the folders she carried and walked to the coat tree, grabbing her lab jacket. She put in on.
“Back here, El. I’ll be right out.”
“O.K.!” Ellen moved across the lab. She flicked on a microscope as she passed it in her walk to the smaller back room with the spare freezer. She hummed some song that she hadn’t a clue where it was from.
Dean pulled the door and secured the buzzing lock of the ‘secret’ lab. “El?” He stepped into the main lab.
“Here.” She came out holding a small specimen tray.
“Hey.” Dean moved to her. “I thought you were at containment.”
“I was. Jason is there being the leader, so I checked on Jeremy and came back here before heading up to the clinic.”
“How is Jeremy?”
“Doing well. He’s eating more food with consistency and it sounds as if his voice is coming back.”
Ellen set down the tray she handled while she talked. She uncovered it and grasped a pair of tweezers.
“And his spirits?”
“Checking up on me, doctor, or are you curious?”
“El, I’m sorry I’m not wanting to . . .”
“Kidding.” She smiled at him. “His spirits are fine.”
“You had me.” Dean kissed her on the cheek.
“So were you checking the case?”
“Yes. All is fine.”
“Good.”
“So, what uh . . . . brings you back down here?” Dean looked over her shoulder.
“This was bothering me.”
“That section of Marv’s brain?”
“No.” Ellen lifted up an even smaller piece. “This section of Marv’s brain.”
“What about it?”
“I didn’t get to look at it closely, but I think it’s regurgitated.”
“You think or you know?” Dean asked.
“Pretty sure.” Ellen brought the red object held by tweezers closer to her nostril and sniffed. “I can smell the stomach acid on it. You?”
Dean brought his nose closer. “Yeah I can. I think you’re right. Check it out under the scope and note it.”
“Planned on it.”
“I find that interesting. Why were some parts ingested and others weren’t.”
“And others tossed back out,” Ellen said. “On purpose or do you think whatever did this involuntarily rejected it?”
“Hard to say. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
Ellen stopped in her look to the microscope. “Dean.”
“El.” He held up his hand. “We don’t know.”
“We think.”
“We aren’t sure.” Dean nodded then pointed. “Keep it that way until we are conclusive. Understand?”
“Is it right?”
“It’s wrong if we let it out before we know. Trust me. Remember, people can be cruel.”
Ellen agreed with a trace of sadness.
“And, El, whenever I leave, if the results are not finished, you have to work hard to prove, without a doubt, what it was that got Marv. O.K.?”
Ellen nodded slowly.
“Good. I know you have enough work as it is. I’m positive with Jeremy in containment and your UWA guy heading back home today, once I’m gone, Henry will move you full time to research. I know you don’t want that but it has to be that way.”
“I know.” Ellen’s hand touched the microscope, hesitating to do her work. “And I know it won’t be long before you come back.”
“Let’s hope.” Dean kissed her again. “But . . . .deal with everything as if I am not. Got it. You follow the priority list. Which is?”
“Are you testing me?” Ellen asked.
“Yep. Go over it one more time.”
“O.K.,.” Ellen took a breath and faced Dean. “As of this date, if you leave . . .” Another breath. “Freezer case in the special lab is always top priority. Bi -hourly checks.” She watched Dean nod. “In between, two hours a day, Marv stuff. Two hours clinic lab work. An hour patient work, unless there’s an emergency, the rest biological, genetic and viral work, including meds.”
“Good.” Dean kissed her. “I made a complete daily schedule for you. It can help you get into a routine.”
“You didn’t include bathroom breaks, did you?”
Dean paused,. “Um . . . no, El.”
“You did.” She laughed. “So anal.” She turned to go back to the microscope.
Dean grabbed her arm. “I’m just preparing. That’s all. We work too hard. You know what you can give Johnny to help on and you know what you can’t.”
“I know.” Ellen leaned into him, kissing him softly, “But can we just not talk about this anymore? Please. I just don’t want to talk about you leaving.”
“All right.” Dean spoke softly and stood side by side with her. “Hey, maybe Frank escaped and that’s why we haven’t heard from George.”
“Maybe.” Ellen smiled at that thought. “And then all this planning will be obsolete.” She held up crossed fingers. “Let’s hope.”
Dean gripped those fingers, squeezed gently then lowered them, holding on. He stared at her making deep eye contact. “Let’s hope. As for now . . .” He released her fingers and placed them on the microscope. “Let’s work on regurgitated brains. Shall we?”
Ellen giggled, shifted her eyes to Dean and then they both--not less the sarcastic intelligent jokes--began to work on Marv’s brain.
^^^^
It was just Henry and Joe in Joe’s office. Or Henry’s office now. But Joe sat in his usual behind the desk position and Henry sat across, a chair pulled close to the desk as they reviewed things together.
Joe only raised his eyes from his reading. “Henry.” He spoke his name in a scolding but soft manner.
“O.K., O.K.” Henry held up his hand. “But Joe you have to admit.”
“Admit what? Henry, it is not be a ‘GQ’ leader. It’s be a good leader.”
“My hair looks good then, huh?’
“Henry.”
“Joe, shouldn’t I be sitting in that seat.”
“Henry.”
“O.K.” Henry tapped his fingers and lifted a sheet of paper. “How often will I get a John Matoose report to review?”
“Once or twice a week,” Joe answered.
“Who will give them to me?”
“I will.”
“So you follow John?”
Joe made a snarling face. “When in Christ’s name do I have time to followed John?”
“Now, you’re retired.”
‘But the reports have been coming in for some time. No. It’s not me,” Joe said, annoyed.
“Robbie?”
“No.”
“Ellen.”
“No.”
“Dean.”
“Henry!” Joe slammed his hand. “I will not divulge my secret spies. Got that?”
“But, Joe, I’m leader and I should . . .” Henry saw Joe was not amused. “I should not know who they are. Definitely.”
“Henry.” Joe flipped a page of the computer printout he reviewed. “I’m looking and I don’t see it.”
“See what?”
“Any history past the time when the Regressionator safeguard was placed in.”
“Joe, it was safeguarded.”
“Still.” Joe reviewed. “Just in case,
it should be here.”
“Nothing’s there.” Henry shook his head. “Dean and I reviewed and figured why waste the paper. If anything happened, it happened prior to the safeguard.”
Joe nodded. “I see. And gut instincts on Jason?”
“He’s weird, Joe.”
“No,” Joe huffed. “That’s not what I meant. You heard him speak. You were there. What are your gut instincts about him?”
“I told you, I think . . .”
“Henry.” Joe held up his hand. “If you say he’s weird, I’m gonna reach across the goddamn table and hit you. I’m talking about him being a suspect.”
“Oh.” Henry let out a breath. “Well, you know what he said when he slipped up to me and Dean.”
Joe shook his head. “You can’t say it’s a slip up. How do we know he doesn’t know about John and he may have been referring to Rev. Thomas too.” Joe picked up a pen and closed the Regressionator history. “I’ll review this later.”
“Did you say anything to Andrea about those letters she mailed?”
“No, not yet. I will. Before I do, I want to set it up that I have the house alone and do a complete search of her things.”
“Oh good idea. Robbie is searching Rev. Bob. You’re searching Andrea. Hey . . .” Henry scratched his head. “What am I gonna do?”
Joe slid a paper to him. “You’ll file this John Matoose report. You’ll need the silver key, Henry. That drawer is locked.”
“O.K.” Henry grabbed the report and walked to the two filing cabinets by the door. He moved to the second and bent down to the last drawer. As he unlocked it, there was a knock at the office door.
Instinctively Joe called out as he was standing. “Come in.”
The door opened slowly and Maura walked in. “Mr. Slagel, are you alone?”
Joe shifted his eyes to Henry. “Um yeah, Maura, what can I do for you?”
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 426
