The Dolos Conspiracy

by Frank Perry

anything and the police would never be able to find out.”

  “Maybe – and maybe not.” He stared ahead, thinking. “I still have the spreadsheet.”

  “How could you? They trashed your computer at home and took the drives. They’ll wipe the workstation clean in the lab. I bet someone’s doing it right now.”

  “It’s still in my Gmail account. I sent it to Mary and didn’t delete it. It shows the vial numbers that were missing. They might have adjusted the inventory now to match the actual count, but we know it didn’t match then so the serial numbers in Lorne’s report are missing.”

  She cautioned. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it in the car.”

  He nodded agreement, then pulled off at a rest area, signaling for her to get out with him. There were a couple lights over the lot, but it was generally dark as they stood alone. They were both wearing winter coats and Kelly pulled up her collar against the biting wind as John continued. “I screwed up. I used Mary’s name in the car.”

  “What can they get from her email address? Is there anything in her message about her location?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t remember. Boy … if I screwed up again and Mary’s in danger, Gort will kill me.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Okay, you might have made a mistake. You need to call right away and warn her.”

  It was misty and cold in the darkened rest area. No other cars were stopped. In fact, there wasn’t much traffic at all on the two-lane hillside road. The Mustang merged back onto the road and John was careful, accelerating slowly on the slick pavement. With more than three hundred horsepower under the hood, he was careful about spinning the tires but was up to highway speed in less than ten seconds. Moments later two tall headlights flared in his rear-view mirror like monster nostrils in some horror film. Where did those come from! John reached up to his mirror, to lessen the glare.

  The truck rammed them from behind. John’s Mustang was less than half the truck’s weight. Kelly screamed as the airbags slammed her head into the headrest. The car spun sideways, lifting the driver’s side and nearly rolled over. John’s mind sped to supersonic speed as everything became slow motion. All the windows exploded as the Mustang distorted. He turned the wheels toward the skid, but the truck was now pressed squarely at his side. The Mustang had spun part way, lifting both driver-side tires off the ground. His mind raced as the huge grill pressed sheet metal inches from his face, like some giant shark attacking from the depths.

  Everything happened in slow down with an adrenalin rush. The airbags had exploded properly, but had no effect after a few milliseconds. John’s headlights no longer pointed down the road, but were instead aimed at the guard rail. The tangled masses of steel were joined together at fifty miles per hour when the Mustang’s nose hit the railing, spinning the car further around as the truck jolted to the right, disengaging. The car’s rear bumper grabbed more railing, spinning them completely around, rolling the car, toppling it twice, then stopping upside down on the opposite side of the road. The car wheels were still spinning above them. It was eerily silent with no movement inside as gasoline from the ruptured tank bathed them. The truck had disappeared.

  The narrow curvy road followed the steep side of a hill. The railing on the cliff side had prevented them from plummeting into a creek far below. This was bad luck for the attacker and the only good news for the Mustang. The road wasn’t busy, but cars were stopping to help. None actually saw the accident. Two men ran to help, slipping on the wet surface now awash with gasoline. John’s lights were still on, wipers running and vapors misted from gas hitting the exhaust pipe. There wasn’t a fire, but any spark would roast everyone instantly.

  People were yelling orders, as more joined to help. The top of the car was crushed underneath and the occupants couldn’t respond. It took a couple of tries before the men got the Mustang rolled upright, landing hard, rocking on its suspension. Gas poured out freely from a tear in the bottom of the tank. Two men, driven with fear of an inferno, pulled at the doors with superhuman strength. Only the passenger door could be opened. Another responder was a nurse who would normally have wanted them left unmoved, except the chance for an explosion was too great. She joined in the screaming chorus -- “Get them out of there.” Kelly’s bloody body wasn’t easy to pull free, but John was nearly impossible to move across both front seats with the tight console, steering wheel, and collapsed roof. They got Kelly out and carried her across the road. It took several more minutes to pull john out after someone bravely crawled inside to cut the seat belt. Men tugged at his arms, possibly causing even more harm, but eventually got him out.

  Careful hands combined to carry both victims farther away from the explosive area. The intermittent rain probably helped prevent a fire. Several people had called 911 and were gathering around the two victims on the roadside, lying on blankets from someone. Everyone was wet and cold. People checked vital signs and administered first aid. John was unconscious. He had a pulse and was breathing on his own. Two people worked on Kelly giving mouth-to-mount and CPR. Headlights bathed them in columns of light with blood washing everywhere in the light rain. Sirens screamed in the distance.

  In a hotel room several miles away, the laptop screen showed “Welcome” as the man finished typing “2014mustang.” Not much of a password, John. For the next several minutes, he checked the files and found Dr. Bridger’s inventory records, which he immediately deleted – permanently. Then he checked Gmail, and messages to Mary Swensen appeared several times under the search word “report.” One had the attached report, which he deleted without possibility of recovery. Where are you at, Mary?

  Frantic

  The next day, news of the accident hadn’t reached GHI specifically, but it was announced on local news stations, withholding identifying the injured people. Kelly’s name was released a day later after her parents were notified, but John’s name was withheld – pending notification. In his case, there wasn’t anyone to notify since he had no immediate family. Labs 4A and 4B were now being tended by Fred and Dr. Petronova. Marie remained at her desk, but spoke loudly towards the open office door. “Mr. Osborne is holding for you, Jules.”

  Jules grabbed the phone from his desk. “Jim. How’s it going?”

  “Things here are fine, Jules. I’ve been meaning to call this week. Would you be able to support a visit from the Saudis later this week or next? They finally got the okay to move to the next level.”

  This was a relief. With everything that was happening, he wanted the sale of the Institute to move forward, as quickly as possible. He wasn’t going to compromise on price, but he wanted it done before anything else went wrong. He could talk around Lorne Bridger’s death, but the screw-up in Africa could blow up at any time if the press got involved, and GHI was implicated, or if something else alerted the local authorities. “We’re ready and raring to go, Jim. What would be best for them? None of us is traveling in the next few days.” It was a risk with their missing lab scientists, but the Saudis wouldn’t know the difference, and he wouldn’t divulge anything to them.

  “Okay, fine, I’ll check their ability to fly. I think they want to move this along quickly.”

  “That would be great, Jim. Just give me a day or so warning.” Music to my ears!

  He yelled out. “Marie, get Charlie and Matt in here, pronto.” He suddenly realized that he didn’t have a good acquisition attorney. Their Institute lawyer was used for risk avoidance and lawsuits, but he’d never been involved in a corporate sale that Jules knew of, at least nothing as big as GHI and especially a sale with so many regulatory issues and restrictions. He needed someone good. “Marie!”

  Barely five miles away, John and Kelly were fighting for their lives, but nobody from GHI had visited. Charlie was the first to arrive at Jules’ office. “Jules, did you hear? Dr. Egan and John Hollis are in the hospital! Fred Cooper told me. They had a car accident.”
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br />   Jules felt like he was stepping from one fire into another. “My god, Charlie! Is it serious? I just invited the Saudis to GHI. We can’t have Lab 4 empty!”

  “I don’t know, Jules. I’m gonna drive over and see them if I can get in.”

  “Yeah, get over there. Let me know when they’ll be back. I gotta get us all tuned up for the investors, and we don’t need this problem right now.”

  Matt Hanson nearly collided with Charlie as he exited. He seemed happier than a CFO had any right to be. “Jules, what’s up?”

  Jules hated the charade. This jerkoff could screw up the whole thing through his greed. Between him and Irina, Jules didn’t know which one he hated more. “Forget it for a moment … do you know anything about our two people being in an accident?”

  Matt lost eye contact for a split second: Just enough to raise suspicion. “Accident? I … hadn’t heard. What kind of accident?”

  Jules was ready to strangle the little snake. Something in Matt’s demeanor bothered him. “It doesn’t matter. So,