The Dolos Conspiracy

by Frank Perry

limits to his retribution. It sickened him to think that someone’s greed, someone’s distain for life, had caused this.

  “John!” He’d been lost in his own remorse, not paying attention to her. She had a pained look after speaking loudly.

  “Kelly, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t talk.” He bent to kiss her cheek, the only spot without bandages.

  “John, I don’t … you … feel guilty.”

  He answered softly, “Okay.”

  She paused and tried to move her head, painfully. “John, I mean ... You didn’t cause ...”

  Her struggling only deepened his grief for her. “Kelly, if I hadn’t gotten nosy, none of this would have happened. My curiosity nearly got you killed – twice. It may have gotten Lorne killed. I caused it all and there’s no doubt about any of it.” He wasn’t seeking forgiveness; it was all true.

  She struggled to be more alert than she should have been, probably due to an adrenalin rush. “You’ve got to listen. I … get better, and I want you (pause) … when I walk out of here. You could do something rash. For my sake, I just … ahh, this to end. Don’t go back to the Institute.” Her message was clear even if she couldn’t get all the words out. She didn’t want him doing anything. She wanted him to stay with her and, when she was well enough, run away.

  He didn’t look straight at her. “Okay, but if someone’s still after us, I don’t know how well we can really hide. You’re a known scientist. With data mining today, anyone can be found.”

  The pain she felt was obvious. “I know, … what’s the purpose. If we … away and nothing happens to the bad people involved, their motivation … to us goes away, too. I just want you to stay healthy until … get out of here.”

  His expression softened. “Did I ever tell you that I love you?”

  She struggled to turn slightly toward him. “Not in words, but I know.”

  “Your parents hate me. They know it’s my fault that you’re involved. They’re right, of course. I’d hate me, too.”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll love you over time.”

  They’d talked long enough. Kelly’s eyes were watering as he turned away. She knew he wasn’t listening to her. She wanted to scream after him to stop, but she didn’t have the strength. She also knew it was hopeless to try to stop him. He left her bedside, walking past the Egans, as they stood outside the ICU, waiting. He sat again, watching. He wouldn’t stay indefinitely, but he wasn’t leaving her now. If the Egans stayed, he would get some sleep. If they left, he would stay alert all night, if necessary.

  Found

  There you are, little bitch. Her email address was simple, mary.swensen1@gmail.com. Mary Swensen had a Facebook page. There were actually several Mary Swensens, but only one that listed her email address. Love Facebook. It listed her high school in Portland, ME, and had numerous pictures showing the same girl in most of them. It was easy to verify that school was in session by checking their webpage. The two people in the hospital weren’t going anywhere soon, so he could fly to Portland in the morning and take care of business there. In a day or two, he’d be back in Baltimore to finish off Hollis and Egan.

  In the morning, her phone rang while she was in class and went immediately to voicemail, then a text message. “Mary, you need to call me, it’s urgent, John.” When she called back, he explained what had happened and warned her that his computer had been stolen, so someone could know that he’d sent the spreadsheet to her. He warned that she could be in danger. Someone was trying to kill him and Kelly, and she would also be on the list. Initially, she argued that she’d be hard to find, and he explained how easy it really would be. She was scared. He advised. “Look, you need to tell the school admin office to be suspicious of anyone inquiring about you on the phone or in person. Don’t leave the campus and stay indoors. Stay with friends all the time and try never to be alone. I’ll call Gort and alert the city police.”

  She protested. “Don’t call Gort. He’ll just get mad and make me come home right away.”

  “Maybe that’s best, Mary.”

  “No. I just met with my counsellor and put a plan together. I want to be like you and Kelly, John. I want to be an engineer or a scientist. I can do it. I know I can.”

  “Look, Hon, I just don’t want you to get hurt. I’m gonna call Gort, and you can talk to him. Believe me, both Kelly and I will help you realize your dream, but you’ve got to stay safe now. That’s the most important thing.”

  “John, I can’t lose time in school, not now, not with a plan.”

  “Okay, look, I’m also going to talk to the principal and tell her what’s going on. She’ll arrange for you to stay on track in school.” He hesitated, thinking about what Kelly had told him. “I’m going to get this solved here, and I’ll do it fast. You shouldn’t miss much time. I’ll end this.”

  “How, John? You don’t even know who’s doing it.”

  “Please just trust me, Mary. I’ll solve this, and you won’t get hurt with school. I just want you safe. When Kelly is well, and this is over, I want to talk to you about career plans. You’ll be a brilliant scientist.”

  They ended with John unsure what he would do next. He couldn’t just sit quietly and let people he loved get hurt. The police were powerless without more information.

  Plan Ruined

  “What do you mean ‘sick,’ Jamal?” Hanson had closed his office door to answer his mobile phone, showing a number for West Africa.

  “All of my men, they are sick, very sick, and their families, they are sick also. It is very bad. We must have help.”

  Matt was also sick, sick of working with these radicals. “Where’s my money? You said you had taken care of it. You get it to me, and I will tell you how to get well. It’s all in the same shipment you stole.”

  “You must help soon, or many will die.”

  Matt didn’t flinch. “You think? Yeah, man, you get to meet Allah personally, sooner than even you planned. I could care less, you mean nothing to me. The world would be better without you lunatics. But, I’ll tell you what; you send me my money, and I’ll get you all well. Think of it as my special gift, the power of life or death over you assholes.”

  “We will drink the other bottles and come for your head. You have seen our brothers in ISIL have you not? We will come for you.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, drink it. Drink it all! You’ll die more quickly. You’ll suffer horribly, but you’ll die faster. Good luck with that.”

  “What do you want, Mr. Matt? We can send you girls.”

  “Fuck the girls. I don’t need girls. We had a deal, send the money: U.S Dollars … comprende?”

  The voice seemed to weaken. “As you insist, the money will come. Now, tell us what to do.”

  “Call again tomorrow, if you’re still alive, and I’ll tell you what to do if the money is in my account. If you’re still alive, that is.”

  “Oh, you can be sure, Mr. Matt. You can be sure. I will live long enough to remove your head and the head of your wife and each of your children, you will see.” The line went dead -- stupid rag head.

  Hanson was actually shaking after the call. This guy couldn’t get to him from Africa. He’d never be allowed on an airplane. The only way to talk to these monsters was with force. The stupid idiots had opened the container after shooting it all up and handled the virus. How dumb could anyone be?

  There was a knock at his door. “Yeah, who is it?”

  She answered, “Irina.”

  At the hospital, things were finally making sense. Sometimes it took a crisis for pieces to fall into place. John knew what he had to do. The Egans had been at the hospital all day, and he was able to leave for rest and to clean up. He was in the shower when it started coming together. He knew where one piece of the puzzle was located, or rather, who it was.

  Later, it was already dark in the GHI parking lot where John waited patiently. He knew
his target’s pattern. If the inventory system records had been changed, regardless of who took the virus, only one person could do it. At least he’d know who was taking it, the “owner” of information technology. When the little weasel finally came out of the lobby doors, John was waiting. In less than a minute, the new red Porsche began backing out of its reserved parking space. To avoid suspicion, John’s rental sped out ahead of the sports car. It was safe to go ahead because John knew the route to the beach house along an isolated country road above the Chesapeake. He’d done reconnaissance.

  The drive around the southern side of Baltimore, past BWI airport took about twenty minutes during rush hour, then meandered into the smaller rural roads, finally getting to the lonely bayside road through the national sea shore areas. In another twenty minutes, they were only a few miles from the house when John found the spot. He had been driving slowly to frustrate and draw the sports car close behind, then he accelerated. At seventy miles per hour on the narrow two-lane road, John slowed again, drawing them close together. Headlights behind him wiggled as the driver’s anxiety rose, impatient to pass. At about