Sharp Teeth and Bloody Claws (Gray Spear Society Book 12)

by Alex Siegel

  They found the manager in a small, windowless office with yellow walls. A black desk had some paperwork, but it was reasonably tidy. A signed jersey from the San Jose Sharks was framed and hung on the wall. The manager was wearing a white shirt, black pants, and a tie. He was Hispanic, and his black hair was very thick.

  Ipo immediately took out his badge. "We're from the California Department of Justice. We're investigating a crime and need to take a good, long look at some of your surveillance recordings."

  The manager drew back. "Don't you need a search warrant or something for that?"

  "Are you going to make this difficult? I don't want to hang an obstruction of justice charge on you."

  The manager swallowed nervously. "It's OK. You can look at the recordings."

  He led the legionnaires into a small room adjacent to the office. Four video monitors, each split into four feeds, showed the interior and exterior of the grocery store from all angles. Nobody was watching the monitors live, but there was a big recording system so incidents could be investigated after the fact.

  "We have thirty-four cameras total," the manager said. "We keep every recording for a week in our digital server. I hope that's good enough."

  "It should be," Ipo replied in his deep voice. "We'll take over from here. You can go."

  The manager hesitated.

  "I told you to go."

  He frowned and left.

  Ipo sat at the computer controls for the recording system.

  "Do you know how to use that?" Liam said. "It looks complicated."

  "It's not that complicated," Ipo said. "Just sit and watch, rookie."

  He typed on the computer keyboard, and it took him only ten minutes to find the right recording time. He went back and forth for a little while, checking different cameras.

  "There!" he pointed at the screen. "The bank teller."

  Liam recognized the young, blonde woman. Her short, black skirt and heels showed off her skinny legs nicely. He hadn't been with a woman in a while.

  Ipo continued to play with the recording system until he isolated the exact moment when the phone was stolen. A teenage girl in a baggy, blue sweat suit grabbed the phone out of the victim's purse while the victim was selecting breakfast cereal. The purse was sitting unprotected in the shopping cart.

  "Idiot," Ipo muttered.

  He took out his phone, pressed the speaker button, and called headquarters.

  "Yes?" Marina said.

  Ipo explained the situation.

  "We obviously need to find that young thief," she said. "I doubt she was the one who controlled the rats, but she might lead us to the person who did. Clearly, the stolen phone passed from her to the murderer."

  "Yes, ma'am. The surveillance video captured some pretty good shots of her face, but it probably isn't enough to identify her."

  "Send all the images to Min Ho. We'll see what he can do with them."

  "Yes, ma'am," Ipo said.

  "After you're done with that, you and Liam can come home. We'll start fresh in the morning."

  Ipo talked to Min Ho next. The hacker walked Ipo through the process of taking screen shots and sending them to headquarters. Some of the images were nicely focused and showed the thief's face in detail. Liam was sure a genius like Min Ho would be able to identify the teenager quickly.

  After Ipo was done, he stood up. "Let's go."

  "Can we eat dinner on the way home?" Liam said. "I'm starving."

  "Sure, but next time, I want you to participate more. This isn't a spectator sport."

  The two men walked off.

  * * *

  Dr. Joseph Shipman covered his mouth and yawned. It seemed like they had been driving forever, and day had turned into a clear, starry night. Summerlin had chauffeured him to Carmel, California which was fifty miles south of San Jose. The last leg of the long journey had been along scenic Highway 1, and Shipman had seen plenty of spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean.

  Finally, they were off the highway and in Carmel. The best word to describe the town was "lovely." People who were too rich and snobbish for the Bay Area tended to congregate in Carmel near the famous Pebble Beach golf course.

  The roads wound back and forth across hilly terrain. Large homes were widely spaced and set far back. Much of the original forest remained intact, and stately, old trees screened the houses from public view. Shipman caught glimpses of stone walls, Spanish tile, and four-car garages. Bentleys, Porsches, and Ferraris were parked out in the circular driveways.

  "Your employer lives in a nice neighborhood," Shipman said.

  Summerlin nodded. "He has high standards."

  They drove down the hills towards the ocean, and the closer to the beach they got, the nicer the homes became. Shipman expected he was looking at multi-million-dollar real estate.

  Summerlin turned onto a narrow road that went along a cliff overlooking the ocean. Shipman could hear waves crashing against rocks below. The waters were black, but moonlight made them sparkle. Private driveways branched off the road, but there were no signs and few street numbers. Obviously, the people who lived here treasured privacy.

  Summerlin pulled up to a closed gate. A guard with a rifle slung over his shoulder came over immediately. He also had a black Kevlar vest and a handgun in a holster.

  Summerlin rolled down his window. "Tell Mr. Burch that Mr. Summerlin and Dr. Shipman are here."

  The guard nodded and grabbed a radio off his belt.

  "Burch?" Shipman said. "As in Bill Burch? The Bill Burch?"

  Summerlin smiled. "That's right."

  Shipman was now very glad he had come. Bill Burch was one of the richest men alive, and having him as an ally could only do wonderful things for Shipman's future.

  "By the way, how much did he pay you to betray me?"

  "Half a million up front," Summerlin said, "and I get the same annually for helping with the research."

  Shipman raised his eyebrows. "Not bad for a graduate student."

  "I'm not complaining."

  "Still, it seems pretty cheap. My discoveries could be worth billions in the right hands."

  "It was the best offer I could get," Summerlin said. "Your puny little research grants certainly weren't going to pay me that kind of money."

  The heavy, steel gate opened. Summerlin drove down a driveway with sweeping curves, and he parked in front of a mansion. Burch's home was actually several buildings connected by covered walkways, some elevated. The buildings were generally two stories tall, but basement windows indicated there was another level underground. Everything was painted white or pink. The lawn out front was pristine, and it included some putting greens with artfully placed hills to add challenge.

  It seemed everywhere Shipman looked, a guard dressed in black was lurking. Cameras were mounted all along the roofline of the home.

  "Burch is a little paranoid," Shipman said.

  Summerlin shrugged. "He likes to feel secure."

  "The President doesn't have this much security."

  They stepped out of the car. The ocean air was cool and humid, and Shipman could smell the salt spray.

  Burch came out of the house, and Shipman recognized his famous face. The billionaire had a brown beard that wrapped around the bottom of his chin, but the top of his head was bald. His dense eyebrows had obviously been trimmed and squared off. He was wearing a royal purple suit and tie.

  He walked straight over. "Dr. Shipman! It's a great pleasure to meet you at last. I'm a huge fan of your work."

  Shipman shook Burch's hand firmly. "I have a lot of questions, such as how did you find out about my work? It was supposed to be secret."

  "All in good time." Burch patted Shipman on the shoulder. "You must be starving after your long journey. I have a fabulous dinner planned for you, but before we get to that, I'll give you a tour of my laboratory. I'm sure you're dying to see how we've taken your discoveries to the next level."

  The two men walked towards the front door of the house.r />
  "Come along, Summerlin," Burch added over his shoulder.

  Everybody went inside. Shipman gasped when he saw the interior of the home. Gorgeous marble tile covered the floor, and the walls were made of elegantly carved stone panels. An antique sofa and chairs formed a little sitting area, and a wooden table stood against the wall, but otherwise, there was no furniture. The lack of clutter made the big space seem even bigger. A few paintings on the walls looked old and expensive, but Shipman didn't recognize them. He wasn't a fan of art.

  The group walked through the mansion. The next room was a little museum of arms and armor. Hundreds of swords hung on a wall, and the oldest ones looked like they came from ancient Greece. Firearms of all types covered another wall. Shipman stared at one bizarre gun that had ten barrels packed together, and it looked too heavy to be practical. Gleaming suits of armor guarded the room like sentries, but there were also real guards in black.

  "This is such a huge house," Shipman said. "Do you share it with anybody?"

  "Are you asking if I have a family?" Burch said.

  "Yes."

  "No. A wife and kids would distract me from more important matters. I have girls who come when I call, and they satisfy my needs. There's no need to make things more complicated than that."

  The next room was a botanical garden in a green house. The warm, humid air was full of exotic scents, and Shipman inhaled deeply. He saw a red flower that looked like a pine cone. Another flower had petals which were thin and spiky. He recognized a Venus flytrap, and a worm was caught in one of the carnivorous leaves.

  "I'm a bit of a collector," Burch said apologetically. "I like to own interesting things."

  They left the house through a back door. The land behind the house was rocky, and Shipman had to watch his step to avoid stepping into a hole. There were outdoor lights, but the illumination was uneven. Up ahead, a high cliff overlooked the Pacific Ocean, and the sound of crashing waves was loud.

  Shipman noticed the security guards had remained behind. The three men were alone.

  Burch went to an outcropping which looked like a natural rock formation. He pulled on a root, and a hidden panel opened outwards revealing a palm scanner.

  He put his palm against the scanner and intoned, "We follow in the footsteps of the husband of Theano and the father of Telauges."

  "What does that mean?" Shipman said. "Who are Theano and Telauges?"

  "All in due time, my friend. First, you must prove yourself worthy."

  A secret door swung out, and a lighted staircase beyond descended into the rocky cliff. Burch, Shipman, and Summerlin went down the steep steps. The door closed automatically behind them with a soft hiss.

  "It's like a secret lair," Shipman said with an excited grin.

  "Our important secrets must be protected," Burch said, "but you know that as well as anybody." He glanced at Summerlin.

  After descending two or three stories, they entered a spacious laboratory. A dozen scientists were busy performing experiments, and Shipman immediately recognized what most of them were doing. He had devised the experiments. Two entire walls were dedicated to rat cages. He guessed there were at least a thousand animals, and all of them had brain implants. The scale of the operation made his laboratory back at UC Davis seem like a joke.

  Shipman went over for a closer look at the rats. The implants were reminiscent of his original design, but clear improvements had been made. The electronics were more compact, and the assembly was more durable. Instead of the lithium ion batteries Shipman had used, the batteries on Burch's rats had little radiation symbols.

  "Do you like it?" Burch said.

  Shipman looked around and admired the laboratory. Brand new equipment gleamed under plenty of bright lights. The microsurgery bay used robotic arms and computer controls to allow extremely precise work. The scientists looked like trained professionals instead of graduate students. The ventilation system was so good, he couldn't smell the rats at all.

  "It's fantastic," Shipman said.

  "You can meet the staff later, and they'll bring you up to speed on the science. You'll be in charge of the laboratory, of course."

  "Hold on. I never agreed to work for you. I'm still angry about my work being stolen, and I want to know how you found out about it."

  "Let's just continue the tour," Burch said.

  "There's more to see?"

  "My favorite part is coming up."

  He led Shipman and Summerlin through a short hallway to another laboratory, and the sound of dogs barking made Shipman very curious. When the group entered, he saw equipment similar to the first laboratory, but everything was scaled up. The cages in here contained dogs instead of rats.

  "You're trying to control dogs?" Shipman said in astonishment.

  "They're much more useful than rats," Burch said. "Bigger, stronger, and smarter, but we're still working out the kinks. Dog's brains are a lot harder to control."

  Shipman studied one of the dogs. Its implants looked very intricate, and a slackness on one side of the face suggested the animal had suffered brain damage during the surgery.

  "Let's move along," Burch said.

  He went to a door at the far end of the room. A very thick window in the door was reinforced with wire. Burch needed both hands to pull open the heavy door, and the group went into the room beyond.

  It was completely empty and white. Shipman sniffed the air and smelled bleach. Dozens of mouse holes at the base of the walls were just the right size for rats.

  "This is one of our test chambers," Burch said.

  "For what kinds of tests?" Shipman said.

  "I'll give you a demonstration. Follow me."

  The group left the room. Summerlin was the last one out, and Burch abruptly turned and shoved him back through the door. Summerlin sprawled backwards onto the floor. Burch slammed the door closed and locked it from the outside. Summerlin jumped up and pounded on the glass, but it was much too strong for him to break.

  "What are you doing?" he cried in fear. His voice came through an intercom system by the door.

  "Demonstrating our technology," Burch said calmly.

  "On me?"

  "I need to trust the people around me, and you're untrustworthy."

  "What are you talking about?" Summerlin yelled. "I've done everything you asked!"

  "You betrayed Professor Shipman, your mentor and friend. You stabbed him in the back."

  "Because you paid me to!"

  "And what if somebody else pays you?" Burch said. "Will you sell me out too? Your loyalty can be acquired too cheaply for my taste. I have enemies who would destroy me and everything I've created, enemies more powerful than you can imagine. They would love to know what's going on here, and I can't trust you to keep the secret."

  Summerlin slammed his fist against the glass. "Let me out of here!"

  Shipman jumped back in fear.

  "Don't worry," Burch said. "That glass is bulletproof, and the walls are reinforced with steel. He's not getting out."

  A man came out of another door. The newcomer was shaved bald, and copper probes were sticking out of his skull. Wires connected the probes to a crown made of complex electronics. He was wearing a black trench coat which went down to his knees.

  "What the hell are you?" Shipman said.

  The man came over and shook his hand. "It's great to meet you, Professor Shipman. Everybody calls me Rat-man."

  "This is one of our prize test subjects," Burch said. "A prodigy."

  "What did you do to him?" Shipman said in a tone of dismay.

  "You don't recognize your own control technology?"

  "I use a helmet."

  "We found placing the coils right against the brain works much better," Burch said. "You get a stronger, more reliable signal."

  "Yes, but the surgery would be incredibly risky."

  "It was successful."

  Rat-man looked through the window at Summerlin. The graduate student obviously knew what was coming, and
he was weeping with fear.

  Rats flooded into the room through the many holes. The hundreds of little, brown bodies moved with the smooth efficiency of a professional army. There was no hesitation as they surrounded Summerlin and attacked in perfect synchrony. He tried to kick and slap them away, but more rats always managed to get around his defenses. He was soon bleeding from dozens of small, nasty wounds.

  "How are you controlling so many?" Shipman said. "The most I ever achieved was twenty."

  "We've made many improvements to the technology," Burch said.

  Shipman looked at Rat-man's face. His eyes were glazed, and the muscles on his clenched jaw stood out. He was watching his rats with absolute focus.

  Summerlin slipped on his own blood and fell hard. The rats swarmed over him immediately and chewed on any exposed skin they could reach. Shipman had mixed feelings as he watched Summerlin die in a prolonged, agonizing manner. Shipman couldn't forgive Summerlin's treachery, but on the other hand, being eaten alive was a severe punishment.

  "What kind of salary are you looking for?" Burch said.

  Shipman knew if he didn't accept the job offer, he would be the next feast for the rats. There wasn't any real choice. Burch wasn't going to let him just walk away after seeing the secret laboratory, and the only remaining question was money.

  "If we scale up this technology and make it more practical," Shipman said, "it will be worth billions. Animals can go places and take risks that people can't. They'll be our remote arms and legs in emergency situations. People who are paralyzed can use animals for some of their daily needs. There are plenty of military applications, of course. You can strap bombs to dogs and send them into enemy encampments."

  "You're limiting your ambitions, doctor. I eventually want to figure out how to control humans. That's the real prize."

  Shipman stared at Burch. "Are you kidding?"

  "Not at all. Does five million dollars a year sound fair? And that's just for you. The laboratory budget is separate."

  Shipman snorted. "I don't have much leverage in this negotiation. I suppose I have to accept whatever you want to pay me."

  "That's right." Burch smiled. "I can already tell you and I will get along fine. Let's go eat dinner. I'm famished."