by Willow Rose
“Okay,” I said. “What about on the personal level. Is he married? Does he have children?”
“No. He’s a very sought-after bachelor. Especially the affluent Miami girls who want to outrage their daddies like to date him and show him off in the papers or magazines. But their relationships don’t seem to last long—probably because he doesn’t approve of their lifestyles. One girl was quoted saying that Bobby Kay wanted her to donate half of all her money to charity if they were to stay together. She called it blackmail and left.”
I looked at Reese, thinking about this. What exactly was her connection to them? I was annoyed that I didn’t get to talk to Bobby Kay earlier in the day since I desperately wanted to ask him about her again.
“What else? Where did he come from? How did he get this social indignation and outrage? Why is he fighting for these causes?”
“That’s what I find slightly odd,” Al said. “He’s an ordinary kid from a middle-class home outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Parents aren’t even divorced. Went to public school but a good one in a decent middle-class neighborhood. I don’t find anything here to tell me why he would fight for equality with such passion.”
“It could have happened later in life,” I said. “People he met when coming to Miami, maybe from living as a starving artist.”
“But I get the feeling he never really did fit into that picture of being a starving artist,” Al said.
“I saw his house,” I said. “Where does he get the money?”
“The money belongs to Jacob and Petra Lebedev,” Al said and pointed at their pictures.
“They’re married?”
Al shook her head. “Siblings, actually they’re twins. Parents were Russian and moved here when the twins were just one year old, and they all became citizens.”
“And where did they get the money?” I asked. “They can’t be more than twenty-five years old?”
“Twenty-four, actually. They got the money when they turned eighteen. On their eighteenth birthdays, they each received almost a hundred million dollars from their parents’ foundation. Their names are on the lease for the headquarters downtown. Last year, they bought the house where they all live now. They met Bobby Kay at an artist event in two thousand and fourteen and have supported his happenings ever since. A few months later, he created OUTRAGED.”
“What happened to the twins’ parents?” I asked.
“Their parents died when the twins were just five years old. Got shot in their own home here in Miami. Drug-related, the police concluded, but the shooter was never found, and it was never proven that their parents were part of the Russian drug cartel. The money waited for the children to be released once they were old enough. Here. You can read more about them in these articles. I also found their files in the DCF database. Here.”
I lifted my gaze to her.
“DCF?”
“Yes,” Al said, nodding. “They were both placed in foster care after their parents died. Since the money wasn’t accessible till they were eighteen, and since there were no relatives to be found anywhere, they went through a lot of families and didn’t seem to fit anywhere. They were also separated for many years.”
I grabbed the papers she had printed and skimmed through them, thinking I’d take a closer look later, maybe once I got home. I needed something to keep my mind off the fact that my daughter was in the hospital and that I couldn’t see her and the fact that my dad was fighting for his life in the back room and I couldn’t do anything about it. I knew I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, and these files could keep me busy, so I wouldn’t overthink. I felt a great urge to punish those responsible for this virus, and my theory was that Bobby Kay and his gang had something to do with it; I just couldn’t quite figure out how or what. I had spent a lot of energy thinking about this for most of the day. All day, I had also been wondering about Camille, my ex-wife. She was in the witness protection program and had changed her identity. I had no idea where she was in the world, and naturally, I wondered what would happen if Josie died. How would I let her know? She had to find out somehow, right? Was there someone in the FBI that could get me in touch with her? Was there a way of tracing her? They had to have some paperwork on her, a casefile, or something, right?
I prayed I never needed to find out.
“So now we have an explanation for the twins’ indignation toward the system and society in general. Who else is there?”
Al pointed at the last picture. I recognized the guy in it from when I had been at the headquarters, sitting in the back by a laptop computer. His eyes had stared at me, and it felt like there had been so much anger in them; it was uncomfortable. I guessed that, to him, I symbolized everything he was against. Authority. The system. Society. I had seen that look of distrust many times before.
“There’s Jim—or James Hudson. He’s also one of the core members and on the payroll of the organization. He’s also been a member pretty much from the beginning. James grew up in a suburb of New York and lost his mother when he was ten years old. His dad didn’t want him, so he was adopted into another family who later left him at the local fire station because they couldn’t take care of him. He spent his teenage years at a home for troubled children. Later, he started writing for these underground magazines before the organization hired him as their press secretary. He writes their press releases and takes care of their social media accounts and so on. He might have written this on behalf of Bobby.”
Al placed a printout in front of me. She pushed it across the table, so she wouldn’t have to get too close to me.
“What’s this?” I asked. I looked down at it, then back up at her.
“A manifesto that I found in an online forum. It was written by Bobby Kay about two years ago but has suddenly become very current. I’ll let you read it, and then you can tell me what you think.”
Chapter 36
Candice was crying behind the blindfold. Not so much because of the situation, she was crying over that too, but it was also something else. What had gotten to her was what the captor had said the last time he was with her, when he was feeding her. He had whispered in her ear that she was to blame for all the mess the world had ended in.
That it was her virus.
Hearing him say it the way he did had thrown her into a deep sadness that she couldn’t shake. She kept crying, soaking the blindfold because he was right. She cried because it was the truth. She had avoided thinking about it for weeks, while staying in her condo, isolated from the world, only keeping track of what was going on through the news and social media. She had been telling herself it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t have helped it, that all she did was research, which was her job. But as she sat on the mattress on the floor, she finally admitted to herself that it was all her fault, that she was, in fact, to blame. People—kids—were dying because of her—because of what she had done.
She deserved to be treated this way. She deserved to be raped or murdered or both for what she had done.
I’m sorry, God. I’m so, so sorry. Please, forgive me.
She thought she had been onto something big when tampering with the virus. She had been so enthralled by her research that she hadn’t even thought about the ethical aspects of creating a virus like this. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Of course, it had lingered in the back of her mind. There had been a voice telling her not to do this. But she had done it anyway. She had discovered the protein this virus was missing, and it had kept her awake at night; that’s how excited she had been. Then she had added the S-protein to the virus’s DNA and subjected mice to it and later monkeys. It had been thrilling and so breathtaking to be a part of that she hadn’t listened when her colleagues had told her it was dangerous. That what she did was unethical. Candice had believed she was on the verge of a great discovery, one that would make her famous, and one that could help save millions of lives. It was the biggest discovery of her career, one that would put her up there with the big names. Of course, she knew it
could be used as a weapon if it fell into the wrong hands, but she had never thought it would leave her lab. It wasn’t supposed to. She was supposed to write papers on it, study it, and create a vaccine for it, and nothing more. It should have stayed within the lab.
So, what happened?
She still didn’t know how it escaped. She just knew that once the first patients were admitted and the talk about a new unknown virus started, she read what the doctors wrote about it in their reports. She still remembered the feeling as her blood froze over when realizing this had to be her virus. She had created this monster, and now it was loose. It was beyond her deepest and darkest nightmares.
She had gone home to her apartment, closed the door, and locked it. She hadn’t left the place again, except to buy groceries. With quivering lips, she had watched as it ravaged the city and soon the world, fearing someone might find out it was her doing.
And now they had. This guy, her captor, knew the truth.
It was all over.
Her punishment was coming, and she was ready to take it.
Candice sniffled and exhaled as she ran out of tears. Barely had she stopped crying before there was a sound from behind the door and it was opened. She held her breath for a second, wondering if the bomb would go off, in case it wasn’t someone who knew how to disable it. But nothing happened. There were footsteps, and someone sat down on the mattress next to her, his shoulder rubbing up against hers.
Candice growled behind the gag, but it wasn’t removed like it usually was when she was allowed to drink and eat. Instead, a voice spoke next to her. The sound of it felt like knives to her skin as a great fear welled up inside of her.
“Candice? It’s me.”
Chapter 37
We were waiting for Al. Reese and I were sitting in my police cruiser in the alley behind her building, the engine running, while she closed everything. Finally, she came down and walked up to us. She was wearing a complete hazmat suit with gasmask and everything as she got inside and sat down in the back, placing a gun on the seat next to her. I turned and stared at her, then shrugged and took off.
“Can’t be too careful,” she said.
I didn’t say anything. I had enough on my mind the way it was. Al was paranoid in general, yes, but with this virus, I couldn’t blame her for taking all precautions. I had seen what this bastard had done to my dad in just a few days; I knew it was no joke. Reese knew this too. She had suffered it in her own body and still had trouble breathing properly, so she didn’t say anything either. She stared out the window at Miami rushing by. I could tell she was deeply worried, and I hadn’t been sure I wanted to bring her along. But I hoped that once she saw the house, or if we were lucky, maybe saw Bobby Kay, then perhaps it would jump-start her memory.
I drove up in the driveway and parked in front of the massive luxury mansion. I turned to look at Reese as I killed the engine, hoping for a reaction—a smile of recognition, or even a wince, anything.
But there was nothing to be seen on her face. She sat completely still and stared at the house out the window.
“You ready?” I asked.
She wrinkled her forehead like she was confused.
“It’s okay, Reese,” I said. “I’ll do the talking.”
“So, what exactly are we doing?” Al asked as we got out of the car and walked up to the front door.
I glared at her, unsure what to say. I hadn’t exactly made a plan or anything. I just knew that I needed to talk with them after reading the manifesto. I thought about calling Major Walker and letting him deal with it, but if he got involved, he’d find out that I had been breaking my quarantine. I thought I’d better deal with this myself, at least until I had some solid evidence.
I took my phone out of my pocket and looked at the display, then tapped the screen to make sure it was turned on. I hadn’t heard anything from the hospital, and it worried me deeply. Still, I reminded myself that no news was good news, right? Jean would most definitely call me if there were anything important going on, anything serious.
Unless they’re fighting for her life, then they won’t have time to call you till it’s too late.
The thought brought unease to my stomach, and I felt like I had to throw up. I closed my eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of my nose while I shook my head. I couldn’t think like this. It was out of my hands, but that didn’t mean it was over. I had to keep the faith and believe for the best. And then do what I could to bring those responsible to justice.
I lifted my gaze and looked at the door in front of me. In the pocket of my jacket, I had the warrant I had received in my email less than an hour ago. I had pulled some strings with a judge I had known for years and who owed me a favor. He didn’t even know I was supposed to be quarantined and didn’t ask, so I didn’t have to lie to him, which suited me fine.
I took a deep breath, praying for the best outcome, then lifted my fist and knocked.
“Miami PD! Open up.”
Chapter 38
No one came to open the door. I kept knocking, but nothing happened. Warrant in hand, I walked to the back and found a sliding door that was left unlocked and opened it. I walked in, Reese and Al following me closely, a hand on my gun in the unbuttoned holster.
“Hello? Miami PD. Please, come out if you can hear my voice. Please, come out with your hands above your head.”
Nothing. Not a single movement.
I pulled out my gun and walked from room to room, clearing them before I let Reese and Al follow me inside. I stopped in an office, where I found an open laptop among piles of papers and books. Al rushed in behind me and scanned the papers quickly. She held up a document.
“Look at this,” she said. “If this isn’t incriminating, then I don’t know what is.”
I walked up behind her and looked at what she was holding. It was a map of Miami and had marked places all over the city. I showed it to Reese.
“What am I looking at here?” she asked.
“These are all places you went in the days after you were infected with the virus. Look, that’s your workplace, the CVS, this is the supermarket where you fainted. Bobby Kay knew you were going to all these places because he had told you to, right? So you could infect as many people as possible before you got really sick yourself.”
Reese stared at the map, then nodded her head. “You’re right; I did go to all these places.”
“And we saw Bobby Kay follow you all over town on the surveillance cameras,” Al said. “Why would he do that if not to make sure you did as he had told you?”
“He’s even written next to them just how many people got infected in those places; look, there are small numbers next to each location,” I said and showed it to her. “Here and here.”
Reese wrinkled her nose and looked up at me. “So, you’re saying they infected me with the virus somehow and then asked me to go all these places to infect as many people as possible?”
I nodded. “I think they stole it from the lab, or maybe Candice gave it to them because she was working with them because of her brother. Then they kidnapped Abby and told you to get infected and spread the virus for them, so it could never be traced to them. That was the only way you could get Abby back. They probably assumed you’d die from it, so they wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore afterward, and when you didn’t, they tried to kill you in your apartment and my home.”
Reese stared at me. I could see small droplets of sweat springing from her forehead.
“Does any of what I’m saying ring a bell, Reese?” I asked. “Any part of it?”
She swallowed hard, then looked up at me, eyes big and wide. “I…I…guess, maybe. I don’t know.”
She sat down in a leather chair behind her, holding her head between her hands. She was struggling with getting her mind to work properly, and I felt for her. It had to be awful not to know what you had done or what had happened.
“It’s okay, Reese,” I said and took her hand in mine. “It’ll come. It’ll co
me back to you when you’re ready.”
“But why?” Reese asked. “Why would they do such an awful thing?”
“To create a new world,” I said and squatted in front of her to better look into her eyes as I spoke. “That is their goal. If you read their manifesto from two years ago, Bobby Kay talked about creating a new world order where the oppressed rose to rule in a world where there’d be no more poverty, where the wealth of the world would be distributed more evenly. But, as he said, a drastic event was needed to accomplish this goal. He even said in the manifesto that he believed it could happen in many ways; for instance, a pandemic could drastically change the world as we knew it. He said so himself in the manifesto, Reese. He believed this was the way the world could be changed for the better.”
“So, you think they’ll start a war? Stage a coup to take over when this ends?” Reese asked.
“They have millions of followers on social media,” I said. “What if they asked all of them to rise up? If they were preppers like Al, then they’d have weapons and an army. I’m not saying they’d succeed, but it could turn ugly. It might already be too late to stop them.”
“As I told you earlier,” Al said pensively. “There has been a lot of chatter online among conspiracy theorists that this virus attack was planned. Many—mostly what you’d normally consider wacko conspiracy theorists—are also saying that it marks the beginning of a new era, a new world order, stuff like that. They call it Gesera Nesera. A sort of global reset of the economy.”
“I think I heard about this,” I said. “Draining the swamps they say too, right? Root out corruption. But what does it mean?”
Al sighed. “Supposedly, it means an end to the leadership and economic systems as we know them. The end of poverty, end of hunger, end of debt—only global peace and prosperity for all. Nesera stands for National Economic Security and Reformation Act, and Gesera is the same, just Global act instead of National. If you read about it, it goes back to the work of St. Germaine in the fifteenth century. It was designed to provide a new economic system for the world during a time of transition. They dream of doing much like what the Nazis and communists did in Europe after the Great Depression—utilize this vacuum to rise to power. They believe that our leaders have already declared war on our constitution by removing our constitutional rights, like freedom of assembly, freedom to travel, the right to earn a living, the right to freely worship, and so on. They have violated their constitutional oath, and so forfeited their office and authority. These people are not kidding around. They have been waiting for a chance like this for years, and they’re ready. I’ve read talks about storming the state capitol. They’re like racehorses in the box, waiting for the start signal. This virus could be the signal they have been waiting for.”