by Jaz Primo
“Hi, Maria. How are you?”
“How am I?” she asked. “I’m astonished, that’s what.”
I froze. “Is that a good astonished or a bad astonished?”
“Logan, it’s a dream job,” she assured me. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve arranged for me here at Nuclegene. Oh, and the salary. You can’t imagine what this means for me and my children. And we’re moving onto the corporate campus, which is heavenly, even compared to the nice neighborhood that I’m living in now.”
“Great,” I said. “I’m happy for you. And hey, I’m happy for me, too. For example, I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“Yes, but why me? The company has teams of doctors and scientists who are far more knowledgeable than I am. Some have even worked on the project since its beginning.”
“It’s a matter of trust,” I said. “I trust you. And don’t discount your abilities. Hell, you’re the one who fine-tuned my daily supplement injections. They work well, by the way.”
Reminded, I headed toward the refrigerator to retrieve some doses for my trip.
“Logan, it goes without saying that you’re one of a kind, though in a far better way than seems obvious,” she said. “When can we meet and talk? I want to make sure we’re on the same page before a medical support team is put together for you. Naturally, we’ll need to negotiate times when you can come in for observation and readings—”
“Uh, yeah,” I interrupted her. “I’m going to need a rain check on that right now. I’m packing for an impromptu trip.”
“Trip? Where?”
“Out of the country,” I replied. “But I should be back in a few days.”
“Is this related to the investigation? Are you in any danger?”
“Just following some leads, that’s all.”
“Be careful. You know I care about you, Logan,” she said. “You mean the world to me.”
“You mean a lot to me, too, Maria,” I said. “Listen, I better get going. I have to be outta here within the hour, and I’ve still got to find my passport. It wasn’t long ago that I‘d thought I’d never need it again.”
I was relieved that we had recovered her before she’d been killed, or worse, by her Continuance abductors.
Once, cancer had wiped future plans from the forefront of my thoughts. Upon reaching stage four, I had thought only about my unfulfilled dreams.
While I’d beaten cancer, it was quickly replaced by the threat posed by Continuance Corporation, followed by any number of threats yet identified.
My dreams and desires would remain on hold, but they were merely on hold, not lost forever.
“Well, don’t forget to pack syringes with your formula,” she said. “And please be careful. You’re my most important patient.”
“Will do,” I said. “Hey, wait a minute. I’m your only patient, right?”
She laughed and hung up.
I shook my head as I got my ass into gear, hastily packing a suitcase and heading to the refrigerator where I stored Maria’s formula.
My phone rang again.
This time, it was Bernard.
“Bringer here,” I said.
“There’s a private Lear jet fueled and ready for you at the airport,” he said. “One of my personal aides, Calvin Strutt, will meet you there. You’re in competent hands. He’s proven to be both trustworthy and dependable. Good luck, Mr. Bringer.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. I didn’t say anything about needing an aide.”
“You’ve said that you need to get to Belarus, and I’m confident it’s not for a vacation,” he said. “And unless you speak either Belarusian or Russian, you’re going to need someone who does.”
“That’s probably helpful,” I conceded.
“Strutt is also familiar with our operations in Odessa,” Bernard said.
“Yes, but that’s in the Ukraine, isn’t it? What’s the angle with Odessa?”
“That will be your closet Nuclegene support site, Mr. Bringer,” he said. “You’re in luck, of sorts. Since Russia acquired and fully controls Ukraine, you can easily make your way there from Minsk.”
“Acquired? You have a way with words, Bernard,” I said dryly. “The Russians rolled tanks into the damned place over a decade ago. I think I’d call that invaded.”
“Invasion, acquisition, liberation, it’s really just a matter of semantics. Functionally, it’s the much the same when it comes to corporate interests,” he said. “We have strong ties within Eastern Europe, which could be helpful in a pinch if you run into trouble. Either way, Odessa provides you with Nuclegene corporate influence in the region. You’ll like it there. They have wonderful beaches.”
I hated to admit that he made a valid point about corporate influences being helpful. Still, I didn’t share his corporate view about the Russians and Ukraine.
“You know, corporations have a bad habit of ignoring the plight of ordinary people, including those who were badly affected by the Russian takeover in Ukraine.”
“I must say, your sensitivity to the topic surprises me somewhat. I had no idea you were such a passionate Ukrainian advocate,” he said.
“Let’s just say I’ve recently increased my awareness of users of arbitrary power,” I said. “Both governmental and corporate.”
“Human history is replete with instances of growth and advancement through the uses of arbitrary power. Be that as it may, I might point out, Mr. Bringer, that ordinary people do matter to corporations. In fact, they’ve influenced countless balance sheets and income statements dating all the way back to ancient times,” he parried. “People, politics, and profit are remarkable bedfellows, and it’s a shortsighted company that ignores any one of them.”
I had to hand it to him; Bernard was quite the spin doctor.
“You should do speaking tours. Anyway, I appreciate your assistance, Bernard,” I said. “I’ll be in touch again soon.”
“Happy hunting, Mr. Bringer.”
As I pocketed my smartphone, I couldn’t help but wonder if Continuance Corporation applied many of the same ideological principles that Bernard had just shared.
If so, could that give me additional insight into their game plan?
It seemed the same no matter the source: whether corporate or governmental, the goal was to horde and control all of the marbles on the game board.
The question was, precisely which marbles did Continuance want?
Sanders pulled into my driveway in a government sedan just as I stepped outside and locked my front door.
I stowed my luggage in the trunk and plopped onto the passenger seat.
“Ready for Europe?” I asked. “I’m told they’ve got sunny beaches in Odessa, so I hope you packed a bikini.”
She slammed on the brakes while backing out of my driveway, bouncing me in my seat.
“Odessa? Why would we go to Odessa?”
“You never know.”
She gave me a hard look.
“Never mind. I’ll fill you in on the way to the airport,” I said.
“You better,” she said. “But rest assured, Bringer, there’ll be no bikinis on this trip.”
“No problem,” I said. “A one-piece is fine with me.”
“Oh, shut up.”
* * *
By the time we arrived at the airport, I had received a text message from Bernard telling us to meet Calvin Strutt inside the terminal.
Between what appeared to be an Ivy League haircut and youthful face, Strutt looked like a guy fresh out of college, ready for his first corporate job.
Great, I thought. A greenhorn.
Still, he had a firm handshake, which was encouraging.
“Mr. Bringer, Agent Sanders, I’m Calvin Strutt,” he offered.
“Are you sure you’re old enough to fly without your parents?” I asked.
To his credit, he seemed to take my jab in stride.
“I get that a lot. It’s in my genes. My mother looks twenty years her junior,” he
said. “Rest assured, despite my appearance, I’m actually twenty-seven and seasoned in international business negotiations, including Eastern European linguistics.”
I wasn’t terribly surprised. Bernard wasn’t the sort of fellow who surrounded himself with amateurs.
Then again, at times, I felt like a rank amateur with my telekinetic abilities.
“Your expression suggests you don’t believe me, Mr. Bringer.”
“What? Nah, it’s nothing to do with you, just a passing notion,” I said. “Would you care to show us to our plane?”
To my surprise, we experienced an expedited TSA processing. Frankly, I was pleased to see that I hadn’t made it onto any of the Do Not Fly lists.
We boarded an impressive Gulfstream jet, brightly painted with Nuclegene’s corporate logo. The decked-out interior screamed luxury. I had never been inside an aircraft that impressive before.
“Please make yourselves comfortable,” offered Strutt. “The crew is prepared to meet most any need you have, including a well-stocked galley and bar.”
“I could get used to this,” Sanders said.
“Hell, this makes my house seem like a shack,” I said.
“It’s brand new, specially built to Nuclegene’s specifications,” said a familiar voice. “They don’t come much nicer than this.”
I turned to see Bernard’s primary bodyguard, Scott, standing just inside the cabin door.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Mr. Bernard said that I should accompany you on the trip.”
“Aw, I didn’t know he cared,” I quipped.
“Don’t let it go to your head, Bringer, but you’re the golden child right now,” Scott said. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“I could say the same about Nuclegene in my mind,” I said.
Strutt and Scott exchanged glances.
Sanders gently grasped my upper arm. “Bringer, let’s pick out our seats.”
We settled in and were airborne within the hour.
The plane was designed for long-duration flights, so we only had one brief layover at New York City’s John F. Kennedy International airport to top off our fuel tanks.
Inside one of the airport’s lounges, a nearby television caught my attention. According to the scrolling text, a press conference was taking place regarding the terrorism threat and the effect on the economy.
I nudged Sanders and motioned for a server to turn up the volume.
The conference was at the behest of the so-called Freedom Party, a block of conservative war hawks in Congress. Two party leaders, Senators Benjamin Conway of Utah and Penelope Savage of Oklahoma, stood before the cluster of microphones.
“…Americans to rise to the occasion during this time of crisis. The Freedom Party stands firmly with the President in his continuing efforts to protect the nation while mobilizing our nation’s resources to root out and eliminate these terrorist threats. That’s why we’re advocating an emergency funding package for the Central Intelligence Agency to strengthen their recent anti-terrorism efforts,” said Conway. “Standing together at this crucial moment, I’m confident that justice will ultimately prevail.”
He leaned forward, with his hands gripping the sides of the podium. “Future generations may judge us favorably by our convictions for success. Yet, for me, conviction and posturing aren’t enough, and failure is not an option. We must act decisively and succeed today to ensure a peaceful and prosperous tomorrow,” added Conway before stepping back from the podium and gesturing to Senator Savage.
Savage stepped confidently forward, her expression determined. “Thank you, Senator Conway, for your inspiration and effective leadership,” she began. “I share the senator’s stance on the terrorist threats before us, and I support the CIA funding bill. In addition, I also advocate a proactive stance to secure a strong economy for our nation.
“In recent weeks, our economy has suffered some temporary setbacks from the shock shared by so many Americans over terrorist threats,” she said. “But the stock exchange’s recent plummet is only a temporary reaction that should rebound, given adequate time. However, some of the opportunistic liberals in Congress are using this momentary setback as a blatant opportunity to curtail years of productive, pro-capitalist growth programs that have set our nation’s economy on a path to future prosperity. Such regressive efforts come from backward-thinking socialists who want to derail our promise of prosperity.”
“All of the tired rhetoric bores me,” Sanders muttered. “Bringer, I didn’t figure you for a news hound. Why can’t you just watch sports like a normal guy?”
I gave her a wan look.
“...requiring reasonable income tax participation by America’s citizens is only fair. After all, that’s how their desired and essential government services are paid for. However, corporations are not typical citizens; they’re the engines of our advancement and prosperity. As such, they should not be taxed, or America’s prosperity falters, and eventually, evaporates,” Savage continued.
“That’s why I oppose any of the recently proposed liberal legislation to increase corporate taxation to fund already bloated social programs. We must encourage the less fortunate in our country to improve their job skills, and motivate them to achieve better standards and quality of life. We must not be enablers for them to continue their path of social welfare dependence,” she said. “Thank you, and now we’ll take a couple of questions from the press.”
“Senator Savage, today’s press conference seems an odd pairing between Senator Conway’s terrorism stance and your view on economic legislation. How do you explain the direct correlation between terrorism and taxation legislation?” asked one reporter.
“Oh, the two are quite connected,” Savage insisted. “Senator Conway and my fellow Patriots in the Freedom Party measure terrorism on a broad scale. First, shadowy foreign entities are perpetuating lethal attacks against our nation. Meanwhile, leftist politicians are attempting to tear down our nation’s domestic economy from within. I think you can easily see how the two are equally dangerous to our country’s well-being.”
Sanders looked up from her cola with a wide-eyed expression.
“And you said rhetoric was boring,” I teased.
“Pardon me, Senator, are you claiming that liberal politicians are actually terrorists?” demanded a reporter.
Senator Conway quickly stepped forward.
“I think what Senator Savage means is that regressive domestic economic policies threaten our nation as much as external threats from terrorist groups abroad,” Conway replied.
Senator Savage smiled and leaned toward the microphone. “I think some of you may have misunderstood my response. What I’m saying is that our institutions should be engines of industry and advancement, not enablers of either public apathy or socialist benefit programs that undermine our nation’s security and prosperity.”
“But Senator Savage, if you’re advocating against tax increases, where do you expect the emergency CIA funding to be allocated from?” asked another reporter.
Savage gave the reporter a measured look. “Obviously, some tough choices will need to be made to trim excess funding from social programs or reallocate funding from other government agencies. We must each make sacrifices for our nation’s safety and security or we’ll have no nation remaining to concern ourselves with.”
“I think that’s all the questions we’ll take for now,” Conway said. “Thank you all for coming.”
Sanders gave me a sober look. “Bringer, we really need to focus on the task at hand.”
“Oh, I am,” I assured her.
“And, pray tell, how was watching that pitiful stage craft helpful to us?”
“Well, for one, we just learned that the CIA has garnered political support from the war hawks for additional funding,” I pointed out. “I didn’t hear Homeland Security, the FBI, or the NSA mentioned, did you? That means they’re placing all their eggs in one basket.”
Sanders frowned. “Hm. And the CIA gets the eggs.”
I winked at her and took a final swig of Jack and Coke.
“Good catch, reading between the lines there, Bringer,” she offered.
“I’m learning,” I said with a shrug.
Once we were inflight again, Sanders received a text message from Bob Tevin informing her that firsthand NSA satellite data of the abandoned facility near Minsk was available.
Minutes later, Sanders booted up her notebook computer and we viewed impressively crisp top-down images of the facility and surrounding area.
As reported, it appeared both remote and abandoned. Tevin had also included multiple maps of the most accessible routes to the site.
“Tevin’s very helpful,” I said.
Sanders received another text message.
“He estimates that we’ve got a head start on the CIA,” she said. “But he expects they’ll have operatives in the area within the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”
“Strutt,” I prompted.
The young man’s head shot upward from his mobile phone. “Sir?”
“How fast can this luxury bird tote us to Belarus?”
He grinned. “Fast, Mr. Bringer. This plane was designed to break the sound barrier.”
I had to admit that impressed me.
“Good. Make sure the pilot burns feathers off the wings for as long as possible.”
He nodded and practically lurched from his seat toward the front cabin.
Sanders gave me an amused look. “I’ll bet you were a handful on family road trips growing up.”
“Family trips are one thing. This has suddenly turned into a competition between us and the CIA,” I said. “And I, for one, don’t like having to bat against our own team.”
“I don’t like it, either,” she agreed. “Of course, given recent events, it’s rather hard to determine exactly who is on our team.”
That sobering thought plagued my mind for some time afterward.
Chapter 7
The pilot must have been running the engines hot. It took less than eight hours for us to touch down at the Minsk International Airport. Despite a short flight, considering the forty-five hundred miles traversed, I experienced some serious jet lag by the time we arrived.
