The Premise

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The Premise Page 32

by Andy Crossfield


  "In a nutshell, yes," said Jack frowning at Colleen’s word choice to describe his work.

  "There must be some other way…" said Colleen.

  "Say, aren’t we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?" asked Karen. "I mean, even assuming we have come up with a cure for something important, there’s not much chance we will be able to enjoy our newfound fortune and fame."

  Colleen looked puzzled. "And why is that, Karen?"

  "Because, sweetie, remember?" Karen said in a patronizing tone, "we’re being hunted by killers? I mean, just how does any of this revelation keep us from being killed as soon as we leave this building?"

  "Karen has a point." Jack said. "We don’t know for sure if you have actually cured crime here, and we also don’t know if this William Downs character knows it either. But, …and I’m just throwing this out there, okay? I come up with crazy plots for a living, and I can’t think of a better motive to kill someone, than for a prison executive to want to kill the inventor of a cure for crime! If he only suspects that you have a cure… we’re all toast!" Jack's expression was serious as he turned toward the board and pointed. "But it just might be the Why we’ve been looking for!"

  The room went silent. The realization hit everyone at the same time and had the same effect. A kind of aw shit, slumped shoulders, punch to the gut kind of feeling that took the mind on a runaway train of thought that ended in blown up cars and dead bodies littering the desert.

  Jack grabbed his briefcase and pulled out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.

  "What are you going to do? asked Colleen.

  "Going on offense, sweetheart, going on offense!"

  "Hello?" said a deep male voice.

  "Say Bob, Jack Colder here, who ya doin’ these days?"

  "She’ll never admit it, you old rascal! Remember Jack, what can’t get up can’t get out!"

  "Ha, same old Bob!"

  "Say, I almost let this one go to voicemail, Jack… what’d you do, change your number?"

  "Long story my friend, but I’ve got a favor to ask you… have you got a minute?"

  "Shoot"

  "You follow things going on up on the hill… Have you ever heard of a bill called "Reform America?"

  "Sure, that’s Max Deason’s pride and joy! You know I think he’d rather drum up votes for that than pull in campaign contributions! I’m serious!"

  "Max Deason, huh? I don’t know him… you think you could get me a meeting?

  "Don’t see why not, they’re in session all next week… would that work for you?"

  "Mr. Platt, you’re amazing! Just let me know where and when. Call me back on this number, okay?"

  "Hold on, Jack… what should I say is the reason for the meeting?"

  "Uh, just say I’m looking for background for a new character in my next book… think that will get him?"

  "Maybe."

  Thanks Bob, I owe you big time, gotta go!"

  Over the next few days, Jack, Kyle and Sam kept a low profile at the condo during the day. At night, they conducted forays tracking down and interviewing members of the gang now in hiding, taking DNA, and bringing it back to compare it to previous tests done before the administration of Colleen’s serum. To avoid being followed, they conducted their interviews in different Private Cabs. Staying on the move made Sam’s friends more at ease during the process, and the technology in the Private Cab was hard to pass up, even for the most jaded gang member. Most were reluctant to meet at first, but Sam won them over with the promise of a ride, and soon they were eager for their turn.

  Colleen and Karen finished pulling the data together from all sources. It was looking more and more like the test subject’s DNA had been changed permanently, and that the patient was indeed free of HIV. The result of that change to their DNA was important. Those treated patients seemed not to need ongoing medication, even to ward off new infections.

  Meanwhile, Jack got a crash course in DNA sequencing from Karen and was soon turning over the results of their collection of cheek swabs to her for comparison. He was getting ready to go meet another of the gang members when he got a call from Bob Platt confirming the meeting with Senator Deason. He had just three days to prepare.

  Karen was just finishing her last cross reference of the day when Jack walked over and sat down at her desk. "Got a minute?" he asked.

  "Sure," she said, still distracted by her work.

  "How long would it take to make a change to the serum?"

  Karen stopped and looked at Jack to see if he was serious. "Depends on what the change is, I guess. Do you know what you’re wanting to do?"

  "Yes, and I need it in three days."

  "Well, I’d say that’s impossible. Any change would set our work back by months, maybe even years..."

  "Oh, I don’t think this one would… but I’ll let you decide, okay?"

  Karen looked at Jack with a puzzled expression.

  "Can you keep a secret?" Jack asked.

  "Jack, what is it?"

  Jack reached in his pocket and handed her a DNA sample.

  "Okay, on your mothers grave, okay? This stays between us! Here’s what I want you to do..."

  Chapter 27 Necessity's Daughter

  The sun was just beginning to rise as Jack finished packing his bag. He tucked the thermos Karen had given him right next to Tom’s cremains, and then zipped the bag closed. Colleen had initially wanted to go, but he finally convinced her that she was needed here to work on finalizing the data. Jack was relieved. He had no idea how Senator Deason would react during his visit later today, but he was pretty sure he would not be pleased to have a stranger attempt to link him to multiple murders. Besides, Colleen would not know anyone in San Diego and Jack needed to devote all his time the next few days to Tom’s wife and family.

  The memorial would be held on Thursday, two days before Tom’s fifty-third birthday. Jack still couldn’t accept the fact that Tom was dead.

  Sam was up and dressed early and standing in the foyer, waiting to see Jack before he left. As he wheeled his bag out to the elevator, Jack noticed something was on his mind.

  "I want you to watch over this crew while I’m gone, okay?" Jack said to Sam.

  "Sure thing Mr. Cold– uh, Jack. Say, can I ask you something?" Sam said as Jack stepped onto the elevator.

  "Sure, what’s up Sam?"

  "What if I really am a coward? I mean, what if sometin’ happens and I freeze?"

  Jack smiled. "You’re not asking anything that millions of soldiers going into battle haven’t asked themselves for thousands of years, Sam. And I can assure you that none of them ever took the serum. I know it may not sound like it now, but asking that question proves to me you're not a coward.

  Do you know how I know that?"

  Sam looked at Jack and shook his head.

  "You know who is a coward more times than not?" Jack asked. "The guy who talks big. The guy who boasts about all the fights he’s been in and all the people he’s beat up or killed. I’m sure you’ve seen it too, the loudest mouth in the room also has the fastest feet!"

  "Yeah," Sam said, "you know you’re right!" brightening at Jack’s words. "The ones that get all in your face go down pretty quick, it’s the guys sittin’ in the corner, trying to stay out of things, they’s the ones to worry about."

  "Now you’ve got it!" Jack said as he smiled at Sam. "You’re going to be just fine, Sam. You’ve got brains and a big heart, and you know what? That’s the real you, you didn’t get those from Colleen’s serum!"

  "Thanks, Jack. You have a good trip, we’ll be here when ya get back." Sam wore a big smile as the doors to the elevator closed.

  _______________________

  The trip to DC was aided by tail winds that trimmed half an hour off his ETA. Jack stepped off the plane and adjusted his scarf. He had hoped DC would be warmer than Chicago, but he could swear the brisk wind and low clouds made it seem colder.

  DC’s driverless cab company was called Consulate Cars, an obvious re
ference to the pass given the elite there in the seat of America’s political power. Jack was beginning to like the idea of a limo at his beck and call. No forced chitchat, no searching for a place to park, and a traveling extension of his workplace fit his needs quite well. What a great example of an idea nobody knew they needed!

  As the cab pulled up to the Senate office building, he saw Bob Platt rounding the corner at a brisk pace, fighting the stiff wind.

  "Hello Jack!" said Bob as he greeted Jack on the sidewalk. "I thought I’d come along and make the introductions… you don’t mind, do you?"

  "No, not at all, but if you ask any questions about our conversation, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you…."

  Bob couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not, as he followed Jack into the building like a puppy.

  "Say, Jack, just what are you going to discuss with Deason anyway?"

  Jack gave him a look that made Bob uneasy. "Politics, my old friend, just boring old politics. Perhaps you’d be better off if you remained in the lobby."

  This time Bob was sure. Jack wasn’t kidding.

  "Well, if that’s what you want," Bob said looking uncomfortably at his watch. "I’ve got this thing I need to attend to anyway, and really do need to run. Sorry I won’t be able to go up there with you Jack."

  Bob grabbed Jack’s sleeve as he turned to leave. "Hey Jack, I don’t have that much pull with Max, but I’d sure like to keep what little I have. Don’t mess it up for me, okay buddy?"

  "Relax, Bob… and thanks for the help setting this up. We need to have a drink sometime!"

  When Jack was sure Bob was gone, he ducked into the lobby restroom and put the contents of the Thermos into an insulated insulin travel case and dumped the Thermos in the trash.

  The information desk checked the log and gave Jack his visitor’s pass, and directed him on to Security. The agents took their time studying the insulin case and cremains, and Jack began to explain he was a diabetic and had been having trouble regulating his blood sugar levels, which was the reason for the kit. But the officer had more questions about the urn with Tom’s ashes than the insulin. Jack thought he was going to have to offer to leave the urn downstairs in order to pass, but they finally relented.

  While the guards were waiting for approval from a superior, Jack overheard one of them talking about the excitement they’d had last week. Security was extra tight since someone armed with a gun had gotten access to a senator’s office. After swabbing his bag, Jack’s hands, and his shoes for explosives residue, he was allowed to head up to the third floor.

  Megan Cantellani was on the phone, but stood and greeted Jack with a firm handshake and a nod toward a chair in the corner of the well-appointed outer office. Jack thought the room could be the lobby of a flag manufacturer, owing to the many stars and stripes on display.

  "Hi, Mr. Colder?" asked Megan as she hung up the phone. "The senator is running just a bit late, I hope you don’t mind"

  "Okay, Miss…"

  "Oh, it’s Cantellani, but please call me Megan… I’m your biggest fan in DC! I couldn’t believe it when I saw you on the appointment calendar!" she said in the friendliest smiley-voice he had ever heard.

  "All right, Megan it is. How long did you say he’d be?"

  "Not long, he’s just down the hall twisting a colleague’s arm! Shouldn’t take long!"

  "I suppose he’s gotten quite good at that sort of thing." Jack said in a low voice.

  "And what’s that, Mr. Colder?"

  "Twisting arms?"

  "Oh!" she gushed, "That’s just an expression we use when we don’t know where the hell he is!"

  They both laughed, and Jack saw Megan was the genuine article.

  "Call me Jack," he said in a more relaxed tone. He could see Megan was thinking over the prospect of calling her literary idol by his first name.

  "Say, I overheard Security talking about the gunman here last week. What was that all about? It never made the papers, did it?"

  "No, they’re very tight lipped about it, but I can tell you, it gave me a fright!" Megan leaned in and almost whispered "They were killed right there in that conference room!" Megan said as she nodded toward the closed double doors across the room.

  "Oh, so they were here to see Senator Deason?"

  Megan nodded as she put her finger to her lips. "You didn’t hear that from me, but wouldn’t it make a great plot in one of your books?"

  Jack smiled at the suggestion of another plot idea from one of his fans. "Any idea why they came to see the senator?" asked Jack, pushing his luck with his biggest fan in DC.

  "No, it’s strange. At first I just thought it was Air Force business, Max is on the Armed Services committee… but I’m told the guys weren’t even in the service…"

  "So they were in uniform?"

  Megan nodded as the phone rang and right on cue, she produced another radiant smile as she answered the call.

  "Yes sir." Megan said, reflexively straightening her back as she spoke to her boss. "He’s sitting right here, are you on your way?" Megan listened to the reply while giving Jack the all-clear look.

  "Okay, see you soon."

  "Max will be here in five minutes, can I get you a cup of coffee?"

  "Sure, I’d love one. Just cream if you have it. Say Megan, one more thing… have you ever heard of somebody named William Downs?"

  Megan halted almost imperceptibly as she rose to get the coffee. "No, not ringing a bell,"

  she said after her back was to Jack.

  When she returned with the coffee she had a serious look on her face. "Say, I hope you don’t read anything into that shooting last week. I have to ask you not to tell Max I said anything about it, I was just making conversation, okay? It could go pretty hard on me if he found out…."

  "Don’t worry Megan, not a word, I promise. But are you sure you’ve never heard of William Downs?" Jack searched Megan’s expression closely for the slightest sign of reaction.

  Megan nervously glanced at her watch and hesitated, drawing a blank on what to say. Her forehead creased and her eyes darted just slightly. She’d done it again she thought. The last time she was overly congenial to a celebrity, she spent a disastrous evening with Bono’s cousin, fending off hands that seemed to be everywhere at once.

  "Why do you ask? She said, stalling, hoping she would think of something evasive but not rude.

  "I hear he’s on the hill pushing a project called Termes."

  Megan couldn’t control her hand as it jerked, spilling coffee on her blouse.

  "Bingo," thought Jack, as he quickly offered his napkin. The very mention of project Termes had flustered her.

  Megan became agitated even further as she tried to clean her blouse. "I’d ask you to bring up official business with the senator, Mr. Colder." She said adding an officious air to her voice that surprised Jack.

  Jack had pushed too far and he knew it. He reached over and gently touched her hand and their eyes met. "I won’t say a word about our conversation, Megan. I promise you that."

  He smiled and could see her relax a bit. Megan forced a smile as she searched Jack’s face for any sign of deceit.

  "Thank you" she said in a whisper. "Nobody is irreplaceable around here, although some folks think they-" Megan stopped abruptly at the sound of the elevator arriving out in the hallway.

  "That would be Max," she said, working more feverishly on the coffee stain on her white blouse.

  Jack fished around in his case and pulled out a stain remover stick and handed it to her. "Try this. It always works for me," he said as he stood, giving her cover by blocking her from view of anyone entering the office.

  The door opened and Max Deason burst through, juggling his coffee, a briefcase, some notes and his phone. "No, no, he’s bluffing…" he said into the phone with an irritated look on his face. Max crossed in front of Jack without acknowledging him, and then going directly into his office, he used his foot to shut the door. His conversation was so loud it was still audible
from Megan’s desk.

  After it became apparent his call had ended, Megan got up and stuck her head in his office. "Jack Colder, the author, is here for his one o’clock" she said.

  Max looked up and gave her his 'I’m swamped' look and ended with a facial plea for her to make Jack go away.

  She rejected the idea by staring hard at her harried boss, then said: "Look on the bright side Max, it’s not politics!" Then Megan gave him a big smile and waited for him to melt.

  Max slumped at the thought. "You’ve been around here too long to believe in such nonsense Megan! Anyone who walks through that door has an agenda and you know it!"

 

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