Radical Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  **

  Nimrod: All set for this evening?

  Warrior: Need to make it much later, not feeling too good. Say after 10.Bringing help.

  Nimrod: No problem, coast should still be clear then.

  Warrior: Confirm that others are out. Will check with you before we arrive. Don’t want any prying eyes.

  Nimrod: Understood.

  Warrior: Things are on track. Target identified. Will explain all.

  Nimrod: Great stuff.

  Warrior: You still OK to take on the task?

  Nimrod: Sure thing. Count me in.

  Warrior: Good to hear. We need more like you. Can you recruit more followers?

  Nimrod: Will try. Don’t want to break my cover.

  Warrior: OK. See you later. Stay strong.

  Nimrod: Bye comrade.

  **

  By 10 p.m. Maureen and Ron were back in their room. Ron said he would take a shower and Maureen undressed and got into bed. She switched off all the lights apart from one on Ron’s side. She relaxed and switched on the TV to catch up on the news whilst Ron was showering. As he left the en-suite bathroom she switched off the television and smiled at him. Still wearing his robe, he climbed into bed next to her and they kissed tenderly. Ron began to kiss her delicately down her neck but when he reached the plaster he stopped.

  ‘You’ve hurt your neck? How did you do that?’

  ‘Oh, on a rose bush in the garden. It’s nothing. Don’t worry.’

  Ron continued to kiss Maureen down her shoulders and then her breasts.

  ‘You have lovely slender shoulders and arms, Maureen,’ he said as he ran his fingertips down the length of her arms in a teasing way. He moved her arm to extend it and Maureen almost had to bite her lip as her elbow was pushed against the mattress. The bruising was starting to appear after falling down heavily in the hallway the evening before. As he reached her wrist she winced slightly as the skin was still red and chafed from where the handcuff had been. Ron stopped and peered at her wrist.

  ‘Maureen, why is your wrist all red and the skin is broken? What have you been doing?’

  He reached over to the side of the bed and put on his reading glasses.

  ‘Switch on the other light,’ he commanded.

  ‘It’s nothing, don’t worry.’ However, Maureen knew that it did matter and now the spell was broken. She switched on the light as ordered.

  ‘I am worried and I want to know what has been happening!’ His voice was raised and he was not going to be fooled. ‘Don’t try to tell me that the rose tree managed to wrap something around your wrist as well. How did you really get that cut on your neck?’

  Maureen sat up against the pillows and pulled the robe closed around herself. She told Ron the story about Hubert’s half hour of madness yesterday evening. Ron was furious. He began to pace about the room. Asking question after question and at one point he punched the wall.

  ‘Maureen, why didn’t you tell me? He can’t get away with this!’

  ‘He’s not well. It didn’t last long. He apologised. He’d had a shock about his cancer. And he’d been drinking. You of all people must know what that can do to someone.’

  Maureen paused, worried that she’d overstepped the mark as Ron had become very quiet.

  ‘Sorry, Ron, that was insensitive of me. Please forgive me?’

  Ron sat back down on the bed. He put his arm around her and pulled her into his shoulder. He kissed her hair and they stayed like that for a few minutes.

  ‘Ron, listen, he’s signed the papers. He’s agreed to the divorce. I can’t face pressing charges. It would destroy him. And me for that matter. I just want a clean break. I wouldn’t want the local papers to get hold of this if there were to be a court case.’

  ‘If you’re sure. It’s your decision.

  ‘I’m sure. I’m with you now and that’s all that matters. Now let’s forget the last ten minutes and start again. Let me see if I can make you forget Hubert.’

  Maureen kissed Ron and continued to caress and kiss him all over his body. The sensual and loving mood had once more returned. For a while, Ron forgot about what Maureen had said, until after they had made love and she fell asleep, then once more his mind returned to Hubert. It was true that cancer could drive some irrational behaviour, he could personally testify to that but what Hubert had done had completely overstepped the mark. What a relief it would be when she would finally be rid of him.

  Chapter 29

  Nimrod was waiting for the others to arrive. The light was now fading and so he realised it was probably a good thing that tonight’s activity had been put back a few hours. For himself, he just wanted to get it over with but he realised it was better to plan properly than risk discovery. The only problem was lighting but Orion had said he would bring an LED light which they could plug into an extension lead.

  Normally he would have relished having the shared property to himself but he was finding that the time was dragging interminably slowly. He checked his phone constantly in case there were any further messages or changes of plan but all appeared to be on track. Nearer 10 p.m. he would need to send one final message to confirm that the coast was clear. It was now just after 8 p.m. and he had nearly two more hours to wait. He had put a load of washing in the machine so that would need to be put out on the drying rack soon. That would take up another five minutes or so but the problem was he just couldn’t concentrate to do anything.

  After hanging up his washing he returned to the lounge and switched on the television. They didn’t have satellite TV so he was limited to the usual Saturday night dross of game shows and talent competitions. Still, it was better than silence and he picked up a discarded copy of the Metro newspaper and looked at the puzzle page. He went to find a pencil and began to fill in the numbers in the Sudoku.

  Suddenly there was a bang as the front door slammed shut. He jumped out of his skin as his fellow housemate Bradley flung open the lounge door.

  ‘Forgot my wallet!’

  ‘Oh, you gave me a shock.’

  ‘So, an exciting evening in front of the tele is it?’

  ‘Oh, I’m OK.’

  ‘You can come with us you know, I’ll stand you a pint!’

  ‘It’s OK, but thanks.’

  ‘Sure? I don’t mind. TV’s rubbish on Saturday night.’

  Nimrod was starting to feel pressured. ‘I’m waiting for someone to come around, a girlfriend,’ he explained.

  ‘Oh, I see. You having a quiet night in then! Say no more!’

  ‘Er, something like that.’

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Er, Sadie,’ replied Nimrod.

  ‘Sexy Sadie is she! Well don’t make too much noise all night will you?’

  ‘I’ll try not. I mean we’ll try not to disturb you.’

  ‘If you get tired you can bring her around to my room. I’ll give you a break!’

  ‘I’ll remember that, thanks.’

  Bradley went off cackling to himself about his seedy jokes. He was always bragging about his sexual prowess. After a few minutes, the toilet upstairs flushed and there was the sound of heavy footsteps down the stairs followed by a loud farting noise before the door slammed once more. Bradley leered in through the front window before making a sexual gesture and then jogged down the road laughing like a drain.

  Nimrod returned to the Sudoku to take his mind off the recent encounter. Despite Bradley having a good job in a local bank he was extremely coarse at times. It was hard to imagine how any young woman would find him attractive but there was no accounting for taste he thought. The programme finished and next up was a hospital drama which held even less attraction for Nimrod. He switched the TV off and looked at the local news on his phone. The headline concerned today’s Britannia First march which had ended in mayhem after being hijacked by a group of anarchists. Fortunately, there had been only a couple of serious injuries requiring an overnight stay in hospital mainly for observation due to head injuries. A dozen or s
o had been taken to hospital for treatment but had been discharged. A few shops and cafes had suffered broken windows and tables but the general feeling was that the police had acted swiftly and professionally to contain what could have escalated out of control. He looked at his watch. Another fifteen minutes and he could send the final text message. Then the waiting would be over.

  **

  Orion had thought that his Saturday evening would take its usual course of a takeaway and then watching a couple of porn films but a phone call had changed all that. Warrior had called him to ask for help and for once he was excited. He normally did get excited watching his films but this was a different sort of excitement, this had a purpose.

  Once the trouble had flared at the march, Orion had shrunk back from the main flank of protesters meaning that as the fists started to fly he had been able to make himself scarce. He was no good in a fight and wasn’t in the best physical shape and knew that discretion was the better part of valour as the saying went. However, he was happy to help the cause in a less confrontational way.

  It had been a bit of a rush but he had phoned his mate Sid who had agreed to lend him his small van for a fee of twenty pounds. It had meant two bus rides to go and collect it but now Orion was heading over to pick up Warrior and they were about to start the first stage in a well-planned exploit. Orion had been hoping for a while to become involved in something a bit more exciting and now that moment had finally arrived.

  **

  Warrior and Orion arrived at Nimrod’s house just after 10 p.m. Before unloading, he once again checked with Nimrod that the coast was clear. The duo put on baseball hats and got out of the van. Nimrod emerged from the house and he directed them to the back, through the side gate and around to the shed. In preparation for this evening, Nimrod had removed some of the things stored in there and placed them to the side. That morning he’d bought a cheap plastic cover to protect the tools in case there was any rain and also to hopefully deflect any questions from his housemates. It was unlikely they would notice but it was better not to advertise the fact that he’d had to empty out the shed.

  Nimrod had already plugged in the electrical extension lead and unrolled it so that it was ready for the LED light. Warrior had strained his back so Nimrod and Orion unloaded the containers of chemicals and carried them around to the rear. Soon they were ready to begin.

  ‘OK? Warrior asked Nimrod. ‘No nosey flatmates?’

  ‘All out getting legless.’

  ‘I’m all ready, boss,’ said Orion.

  ‘Fucks sake, keep your voice down, you idiot,’ said Warrior cruelly. ‘Why don’t you advertise it on Facebook, you wanker! Want everyone to know?’ he said with his face up against Orion’s.

  ‘Sorry, I’m just excited. Honoured to be asked.’

  ‘Yes, well that’s good. We need to keep a cool head. No room for error.’

  ‘Yes, I got it. Right, I’m keen to learn.’

  ‘OK, team. Right, listen up,’ said Warrior. ‘OK, now I’ve brought this empty drum. We can use this as the reaction vat, so to speak. We need to be very careful I don’t mind telling you. I’ve got some face visors and gauntlets to put on. Also, we need a screen of some sort, just to be safe. Have you got anything?’

  ‘Yes, I made this from some old plywood I found in here. It should do. I’ve got a funnel as well and some tubing. That way we can add the liquids together without being directly over the top of it.’

  ‘Good work. Well, no time like the present. Let’s rock and roll! But don’t rock it of course!’ he joked.

  After his recent outburst towards Orion, Warrior seemed to have relaxed and Nimrod wasn’t sure how he could now appear to be so casual. Perhaps he’d done this several times before. He didn’t like to question him. However, he himself was anything but relaxed. He’d had to sit on the toilet several times this evening before Warrior’s arrival and his bowels were completely empty due to his nervous state.

  Orion and Nimrod put on their protective equipment. Warrior stood in the doorway to the shed checking instructions on his phone. He was standing partially in front of the LED light and his shadow loomed over the other two workers creating an eerie and sinister air. Nimrod looked up to see the distorted silhouette of Warrior against the side of the shed like in an old horror movie. All that was needed was some dramatic music to accompany them,

  ‘Right, all the acetone added now?’ asked Warrior.

  ‘Yes, all in there, boss.’

  ‘Now for the difficult part. This is the time for steady hands.’

  Orion eagerly reached for the second chemical.

  ‘No, you hold the tubing and funnel. Watch what we do, then maybe next time, OK?’

  Nimrod’s hands were anything but steady. He could feel the sweat running down inside his face visor which made it slip down his forehead.

  ‘Shit!’ he shouted. ‘I can’t see.’

  ‘Give me that whilst you adjust it.’

  Nimrod tightened the plastic screw on the back of the visor and positioned it higher on his forehead. He touched it to check it was steady and happy that it wouldn’t slip down took hold of the bottle of the chemical once more. He used his free hand to steady his elbow as he poured the liquid. His assistant used a long plastic rod to slowly swirl the mixture to ensure homogeneity.

  ‘Don’t stir it too fast, you aren’t trying to get a froth on it!’ said Warrior sternly.

  ‘Like this?’

  ‘Yes, much better. It just has to be mixed properly and evenly.’

  There was one remaining bottle to be added and Nimrod couldn’t wait for the procedure to be finished. He wasn’t sure how much adrenaline the body could produce but his must have reached its maximum concentration. His heart must have been beating at over a hundred and twenty beats per second, resonating in his eardrums. Finally, the addition was complete. The duo stood back and tried to breathe again normally. He felt like high fiving his comrades but any sudden movement wasn’t a good idea in the cramped confines of the shed.

  After placing the lid loosely on the drum, they stepped outside and stripped off their visors and gloves. The cool night air felt wonderful against their sweat-soaked T-shirts. Nimrod squatted down on the floor for a few minutes like an athlete at the end of a gruelling race.

  ‘OK?’ asked Warrior.

  ‘Fine, just needed a bit of air.’

  ‘Good work. We need to be patient. Stage One complete.’

  ‘I need a beer. Fancy one?’

  ‘Just the one, I’m driving,’ replied Orion.

  ‘OK, let’s go inside.’

  They stowed their equipment back in the shed and Nimrod locked it. They unplugged the light and wound up the extension cable and entered the house by the patio window. Once inside they whooped and cheered. Slapping each other on the back and toasting success. They were riding high on adrenaline and comradeship. Tonight a major step had been taken. The genie was out of the bottle and had tasted freedom. It wouldn’t retreat back inside. From this point there was no turning back.

  Chapter 30

  On Monday at 9 a.m. Christian Dalton was awaiting a second visit from Ron Radford. It was now certain that ClinTry would be part of the Radford conglomeration of businesses and the formal papers were due to be signed later in the week. It was clear that Ron was trying to get to grips with reorganising the business. Thus, Christian had made an early start in the hope that he would appear on top of his work and would make a more favourable impression with his new manager.

  At two minutes past nine the receptionist, Fay, announced Ron’s arrival. Christian went through to the lobby to greet him.

  ‘Mr Radford, how good to see you again!’ enthused Christian, offering his hand.

  ‘Christian,’ said Ron.

  ‘Can I offer you some coffee, tea?’ he asked.

  ‘No thanks, we’ve not started our meeting, have we? I think we better get down to work, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh, of course, this way,’ and he stepped back
to allow Ron through to the office area of ClinTry. Christian already felt like he’d been told off by the teacher and they’d not even begun the meeting yet.

  Ron wandered around Christian’s office looking at the certificates on the wall and at the bookcase. He then went over to Christian’s desk and picked up a family photo of the four Daltons. It was a clear demonstration of who was in charge and who was the subordinate.

  ‘Right, let’s get started,’ said Ron. ‘Trials.’

  ‘Yes, trials,’ said Christian, not understanding what was required of him.

  ‘What’s your current occupancy as regards bookings for trials in say, the next three months?’

  ‘Let me see, I think it’s about sixty to sixty-five percent.’

  ‘Not good enough.’

  ‘Well, no I agree it could be higher.’

  ‘It could and it will be from now on.’

  ‘We do have a slight problem recruiting patients after our episode of bad publicity. Also, geographically we lose out to centres in London.’

  ‘Rubbish. We are next to a university with loads of cash-strapped students.’

  ‘Well, yes, I grant you that but they don’t always fit the profile for the studies.’

  ‘How much do you pay for trials in healthy volunteers then?’

  ‘It can vary but in general, most companies average around three to four hundred pounds a day for a single dose study. Then if they have to stay overnight it can be around a thousand pounds for each night they are here.’

  ‘Halve it.’

  ‘Halve what? I’m not sure I understand?’

  Ron sighed quietly. ‘If you cut the amount you pay then we will make considerable savings. We cannot continue to operate on these margins.’

  ‘Yes, but we might not get the volunteers though.’

  ‘I will ensure you get the necessary volunteers, don’t worry.’

  Christian looked baffled at this statement. ‘I, er I, sorry, I’m not really following you.’

  ‘Who recruits the patients for the studies?’

  ‘That’s the responsibility of Judith, she’s very experienced.’