The assembled family crowd in Edward’s office was stunned by the insight and acumen of this young woman, barely out of college and her sophisticated insight and analysis of the circumstances. She didn’t ask for permission to speak; she just aired her views. Misti demonstrated her incredible self-confidence, carefully constructed over the years under Edward’s tutelage and took a prominent role in the day’s events. Maria noted the mature thinking of a twenty-three-year-old girl who sounded like a forty-three-year-old corporate executive. Maria, who wasn’t easily impressed, was. Maybe her daughter-in-law had finally come of age.
The call was set for ten in the morning, west coast time. Adam was to initiate the call to the direct line of Paulo Fortizi at BioGen Labs in Princeton, New Jersey.
***
Adam dialed the number for BioGen and Paulo Fortizi. The call was picked up right away. “Mr. Sarmiento, I presume.”
“Close enough for now. How are you Saldiano? Or should I say Mr. Paulo Fortizi, President and CEO of BioGen Labs?”
“Ah yes, that. You’ll have to excuse my little deception last year. We were in a rush to locate our family history and we don’t like publicity. Using an alias seemed like the appropriate mechanism at the time. My apologies if it caused you any discomfort.”
Paulo’s tone was conciliatory and smooth. No apparent anger or hostility. His voice aspect presented a calm and cool demeanor – at least on the phone. So far so good, thought Adam.
“I wanted to give you a call today at the urging of a few of my colleagues. We have been having a close look at the material, your family history that is, and we have found it to be both remarkable and chilling. Perhaps you can tell me a little bit more about your lineage. And your collective future plans.”
“Oh, how boring Alan. All those books and documents. I’m surprised you could even read a single word. That isn’t family history; that’s fiction, plain and simple. Just send the materials back to me. Then we can forget all about this unpleasantness. You would have our eternal gratitude.”
“I’m sure I would. But I doubt that you would stop what you’re doing and make nice with me. In fact, if anything in the Library is to be believed, it appears you have some interesting plans not only for me and mine, but for the world of mankind as we know it. Besides, when did your family history suddenly become a work of fiction? The story you told me in Tucson seemed fantastical at the time but I now I’ve come to believe it was actually true.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about. Surely you don’t believe any of that fictional drivel in our collection. Or my tall tale. Do you? I just wove a yarn for your entertainment. Never suspected you would believe any of it. Frankly, I’m a little shocked. You seem like an educated man.”
“I take everything in the collection seriously. Including you. I’m still translating documents but on my meager budget, it’s gonna take some time. How much time do I have anyway, Paulo? You guys still workin’ away on plans to rejig the hierarchy on planet Earth? You make me a little nervous, Paulo, I have to admit.”
“Don’t be absurd, Alan. That’s all fictional nonsense, a little family parlor game we play. And have played for centuries. Don’t pay it any mind. Just return our collection and we’ll not need to take any legal action.”
“Oh, legal action, eh. Delivered in that threatening/non-threatening manner of a practiced and experienced CEO. You guys do actually practice that, don’t you?”
“I practice many things Alan. Many things. Some of them a very unpleasant and some are just plain terminal. I had hoped we could work something out, but I sense that’s not the purpose of this call. What do you want, Alan? Why not cut to the chase and tell me why we’re talking today.”
“As I said, a few of my colleagues insisted on making contact to see if we can all be grownups about this and get to the truth of what you’re really all about. You know, what you folks are up to. I don’t have a nefarious purpose for the call and certainly don’t mean to upset you in any way. Just a friendly call, that’s all.”
“Can you hold the line a moment, Alan? Somebody just walked in my office. I’d like to close the door.”
“You mean you still haven’t traced this call and you’re stalling for time. Don’t bother. Even if you could trace this call, which you cannot, you would still wind up in a very bad spot. It’s immaterial to me but exceedingly bad news for you. I’d stop now before you appear on the radar screen of someone you may not wish to meet.”
“Such as?”
“Government officials, cops, the FBI, those folks. Right now, those chaps are totally unaware of who and what you are. If that changes for any reason, or you persist in trying to locate me, I may have no choice but to disseminate some reading materials to the public. They might be a little less enthusiastic about what we now know.”
“Who’s ‘we’, Alan. Who do you represent and what do you want? Money? How much?” Paulo’s tone and his composure were changing. Adam sensed this was a man used to getting his way and he was annoyed by Adam’s deft avoidance of anything substantive.
“You got it all wrong, Paulo. We don’t want your money; all we want is information. About you. And the Gens Collective. We just want to get to know you a little better and maybe become friends.”
“Not sure how we can accomplish any of that, Alan. I seriously doubt we can ever become friends and I suspect you have an agenda you’re not planning to share with me. At least not today. So, what exactly is your game and what is it you want? At least tell me what you think we can accomplish on the phone today?”
“Well, we can start with the codes and keys to translate everything we have. That would really help us a lot. Speed up our work significantly.”
“What else?”
“We’d like to understand what it is you are working on and why you seem to want me dead.”
“We don’t. Want you dead, that is. I’ve never met you, so why would I be so belligerent? It’s bad for business. Furthest thing from my mind, truth be told.”
“So you say, but I think you might be fibbing to me. We both know what this is all about and now that someone, me, has discovered you, the Gens Collective, I think you’ll do just about anything to send me off on an all-expenses paid journey to the afterlife. And I can understand why. But the whole freakin’ world? That’s bold. And I think you’re fooling around with potent forces that you may not be able to control. And which seems very, very bad for my species. Yours too, if you’re not careful.”
“What are you talkin’ about? Bad for which species?”
“OK, Paulo, if that’s your attitude, then this call is over for now. I’ll contact you again after you’ve had a chance to think this conversation over a bit. Deal with me honestly and we can come to terms. If not, I just keep researching and we all hope nothing gets into the papers, or sent to the Vatican, or DC or Beijing for that matter. You know how crazy that bunch can be. Why I think they’d start looking for you guys right away. Want to get up close and personal. Maybe do a post mortem study or two. You’ll be the world’s most famous cryptid. Probably get your own reality TV show.”
“A cryptid is a creature thought to exist, but which hasn’t been scientifically established, proven or verified. Is that what I’m supposed to be?”
“A Gens, a vampire, I don’t know what you are. You are not, however, a modern human. A homo sapiens sapiens. You’re something else entirely. Time to reveal yourself, Paulo. Why not work with me and see what we can accomplish together?”
“Let’s meet and discuss then. Just tell me where you are, and I can fly out to meet with you later next week.”
“Why, oh why, oh why would I ever do that? You’d have me for dinner. No thanks. I’m fine wherever the hell I am and whether that’s down the road from your office in Princeton, or Timbuctoo, I have zero desire to ever meet you. If you wish, we can keep up a dialogue from time to time but I can tell we’ve not made much progress today. Although it was d
elightful speaking to you again.”
“At least give me your real name, Alan. You know mine, it only seems fair for you to return the favor.”
“Paulo, Paulo, Paulo. Have you heard nothing I’ve said? I don’t want you to kill me. I just want you to talk to me and let me understand what you’re all about. As it is, I just don’t understand what you folks want, or why you seem so determined to do me harm.”
“This doesn’t have to end badly. For you, that is. I am very persistent and have been finding people for a very long time. Mostly people who don’t want to be found but that’s beside the point. The point for you is that we can either be friends or enemies. But we can’t be both. So, choose and decide your own fate. If we end this call today as it is, I’ll be deploying assets to root you out and make you miserable. Is that really what you want?”
“Paulo. How very threatening of you. So, let me counsel you about me.” Adam’s voice changed to the “other” and suddenly he was no longer amiable Adam. He continued, “I am your worst fucking nightmare and you will regret ever threatening me and mine. I can find you, your family and all your kind and mount your fucking heads on a trophy wall. So, don’t fuck with me ever again and don’t you ever think you can threaten me. On one hand, I know everything there is to know about you; on the other, you’ve got nuthin’. Seems like I’m in the catbird’s seat and you’re shootin’ blanks. Come after me and you’ll rue the fucking day you were born.”
“As you wish, Alan. Doesn’t have to be this way but I can see your minds made up. Goodbye.”
The phone clicked off. Edward’s office was quiet.
Misti spoke up instantly. “Rue the day. Rue the fucking day? Where the hell did you get that?”
“Netflix. Where else?”
***
The office in New Jersey was anything but quiet. “Call the family. We have news.”
“What now? asked Enzo, who had been listening in on speakerphone. What’s our next step?”
“Call the Captains and activate the Trackers. I have a job for them. I want them to find this Human and his colleagues and his family, no matter how long it takes or what it costs. Then I want him dead, along with every other member of his family and every one of his associates. I want video proof and I want his exit as painful as we know how to make it. If you need more Trackers, or the Captains fail in their task, tell me right away. I’ll supply more personnel. This is our number one priority. Understood?”
“Understood. I’d be happy to join the hunt, with your permission.”
“Denied. I need you here and close. There will be … consequences for my past failure to control Tomas di Gensarii. I expect assassination isn’t now out of the question.”
“The Chinese?”
“Who else. They don’t respect my authority sufficiently …”
“Or at all. It’s long past the time to deal with them. Quietly.”
“You did get a solid trace, right? Where is he?”
“Yes, I did. Langley, Virginia. Office of the Director of the CIA.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Oh shit, indeed.”
Chapter 56
The entire Barrows Bay family, including Mark and Julia Eagan, together with a select few friends from the Institute, departed together from Victoria early Friday afternoon. They boarded two Sikorski S76 charter helicopters for the short ride down to Seattle. The mood was somber for all on board who had participated in the call with Paulo.
That call had taken place Friday morning as scheduled and since nothing earth shattering had come out of the call directly, no changes to their packed wedding schedule was possible. The love birds would depart on time Sunday for their now shortened honeymoon in Hawaii. But the love birds’ attention was not on the joy of their wedding or the romance of their honeymoon. Instead, they were both preoccupied with thoughts of the near future.
The conversation with Paulo had been one giant buzz kill for the anticipation and genuine thrill the pair each felt as the big event Friday and bigger event Saturday approached. Gone had been any thoughts of what a pain the planning had been; it had been replaced by eagerness for the days ahead.
Now a pall, a shadow was cast on the happy event.
It shouldn’t have been this way. Their joy should have been unrestrained and shared intimately by all those around them who loved them most.
It was not.
There was a certain tenseness and gloominess that pervaded everyone’s thoughts; nothing concrete had been admitted by Paulo about the existence of the Gens Collective, but the conversation had been less than convincing in its denials. For those assembled for the call at the Institute, only one conclusion could be drawn; the Gens Collective was real.
This conclusion was unanimous within the group. And, it included a chastened and somewhat angry Adam St. James. Threats to him were one thing. He could ignore that. But threats to his wife and family were quite a different kettle of fish. His anger and madness had been instantly ignited during the call. Adam was sorry it flashed but the worst possible outcome for Paulo had bubbled up to the surface.
Adam not only believed in the existence of the Gens Collective; he now believed that the Gens were a threat. To him and Misti. And to the entire constituency of the Eight Families. The Gens Collective had to go. He would see to it personally, if it was the last thing he would ever do.
***
Maria had been running interference for Misti for the past couple of months as the situation with the Gens and events in New Jersey had begun to go critical. She had been in constant contact with the tias, in preparation for the rehearsal dinner on Friday night and the wedding on Saturday afternoon. Even though Misti had been AWOL for a good part of the past several months, she too had remained in contact with the tias, though somewhat less frequently than they would have liked or expected. The tias had begun to suspect something was amiss, since Misti seemed more interested in her work than in the wedding. They were confounded by both Misti and Adam who acted as though they were already man and wife and the wedding had become a huge bother.
It was up to Maria to smooth the way and restore any ruffled feathers to their upright and locked positions. It hadn’t been that hard; the rehearsal dinner speeches, traditionally given by the couple and their parents, delved deep into family lore and history. Misti and Adam gushed with pride and appreciation for all the hard work, love and commitment each of the tias had shown the wedding couple. Misti confessed to the tias that she was aware how little she had participated in the planning and execution of her own wedding, but how deeply she thanked God for granting her such a loving family. She would talk to each tia individually, thank each personally and ask each for their blessing for this union. She would shower them with praise and small gifts, an idea Maria had suggested weeks earlier.
Maria spent time every day with the ladies and tried to help them understand just how important the work Misti did was to her country and, at the same time, what a gruelling task master Edward could be. Wedding or no wedding, his nibs was not to be refused. The work Misti did was so top secret that Maria was forbidden by law to even give the ladies a hint. But it was important for the defense of the nation, and both Adam and Misti were trying to complete their tasks in time for the wedding and their honeymoon. Maria now often remarked how proud of her new daughter-in-law-to-be she was, an amazing turnabout to the tias from the recent past.
Maria hadn’t always been so close with Misti and it was well-known in the Eight Families how little the entire Alarcon family got on the Suarez contingent in Barrows Bay. Maria had always historically been guarded in the expression of her opinion of Misti but effusive in her praise for other kids in the Eight Families.
Once assured of the real reasons for the apparent indifference, the tias were finally convinced that nothing was going to spoil this wedding and their fears had been misplaced. They busily threw themselves back into finalizing all preparations, coercing the men into action and mak
ing sure all the participants knew their roles and memorized their lines. This was a full and complete Mexican Catholic wedding taking place on US soil; not everything would be as it would’ve been back home in Oaxaca, but allowances had to be made. Three priests, one from Oaxaca, one from Seattle and one from Victoria would officiate, with the nuptials pronounced by Father Hannigan, the new Irish priest recently assigned to the Seattle congregation.
Adam had lobbied hard for Father Rodriguez, his long since retired confessor and confidant. They remained close friends, but he was now back living in his native Argentina and was too ill to make the journey north. It had worked out for the best anyway; the tias would never have allowed the good Padre to officiate in their congregation. Though a priest and Catholic, he was in their eyes a Jesuit outsider who should not have had that privilege.
The tias considered themselves to be the new aristocracy in Seattle religious politics and took up prominent positions on the boards of various Church organizations and Catholic charities. Their influence was rapidly becoming formidable, as was their ability to raise funds for the projects they supported. Their opinions mattered and not just in the Eight Families and not just in their spiritual lives. One of the older primos was running for local elective office and the tias were supporting his run. Everyone in the extended family would contribute, support and endorse his candidacy. Records would be kept.
Edward was an entirely different story. His role in the whole affair was to bankroll every aspect of the wedding; each and every event before, during and after no matter how great the cost. The tias suggested it might also be a nice gesture to the Church to make a small contribution to the construction fund for the new Chapel and Rec Center at Sacred Heart. The St. James Family Trust donated one million dollars in cash, with a commitment to fund at least half of any cost overruns.
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