“Fuck! What? Enter!”
The serviceman slowly entered the General’s office and stood in front of the General’s desk at full attention.
“What?” The General hated Mondays. Whatever he was about to be told, he already knew it was too early for the shit.
“Sir, Dr. Kennerly is … ummm. Well, he’s missing, sir.”
The General put down his pen and leaned back in his chair.
“Missing? What do you mean he’s missing?”
“Sir, no one has seen the doctor since last Sunday, sir. He hasn’t been seen since he left the lab last Sunday.”
“So you mean since yesterday, then?”
The serviceman let out a nervous cough before he clarified, “Sir, no sir, since last Sunday. Eight days ago, sir. Apparently Dr. Kennerly has been missing for eight days, sir.”
9
ABLUTION
“How much money do you have?” was the first thing the man asked when Ken opened the door. He pushed past Ken and headed to one of the empty tables in the lab. His friend in the wheelchair was a little politer and offered up a kind of half-nod while he sat in the doorway.
“Please, come in,” Ken told the gentleman he met several days prior. He moved to one side so the wheelchair would fit. After Brock wheeled into the lab, Ken closed the door and locked it behind them.
“Excuse me?” Ken asked Hunter and made sure the irritation in his tone was obvious.
“How much money do you have?” he asked again before he paused and, Ken hoped, realized how he sounded. Hunter continued, “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that there are so many things I’ve needed to do but haven’t been able to because I couldn’t risk any kind of outside communication or attempt any kind of contact. There are some very crucial people who we have to connect with immediately for their help.” He rambled on as he unloaded and powered up a laptop. “So if I seem rude or short I do kinda apologize, but for the time being, I need you to keep the sand out of your vagina. In other words, keep up, buck up, and don’t take anything personally. Then after I take care of a few things that must be done right now, we can chat about all the shit you want. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough,” Ken responded and walked to the table where Hunter was getting situated. “But first should we get some introductions out of the way?”
“Please, don’t insult my intelligence, and I won’t shit all up on yours. You know who we are and we know who you are. Our presence here is introduction enough. So, how much money?”
“Ummm … I don’t really have an exact amount, but it’s plenty. A lot. And if, for some reason, it’s not enough, we have access to more.”
“Do you have at least,” Hunter did some calculations in his head, “say 50,000 cash?”
“Yes.”
“Ok good. I have to send the design specs to my guy in San Diego to get at least twenty units made and shipped to us immediately. We can program them for operation ourselves. I’m not letting the code out of our possession yet. Still, we can’t do shit without actual factory Veils produced and in our hands.”
“I understand.”
“Where’s the one you made? Hopefully you could make one. Please tell me you made one.”
“Yes, I duplicated the prototype from the schematics Mr. Elsbeth provided,” Ken reported and went to his desk. He unlocked it and pulled out the Veil he built. He walked back to the table and placed it next to Hunter’s computer.
“Jesus, that’s an ugly bitch.”
“I wasn’t going for aesthetics. I was going for speed. I had four days.”
“I know. I don’t really care. It’s just ugly. Kinda funny.”
Damn, the guy was rude.
Hunter booted his computer, opened the Veil schematics he finalized in the military lab, and highlighted only the parts that referenced the design and manufacturing of the unit. He pasted the information into a separate document and opened his email program. At the same time, he took out his phone and placed a call.
While he waited for the person on the other end to answer, he snapped his fingers at Ken, pointed at his laptop and said, “Connect me to your wireless, dude.”
Dude?
The person picked up Hunter’s call.
“It’s Hunter. I just made it to the lab and got the computer out. I’m sending the specs to you now. I need twenty. Immediately. I’m sending it over now, look at it.” He hit send and waited for the person on the other line to respond. “Ok, how soon can you do twenty?”
Hunter put his hand over the microphone and asked Ken, “Can you do seventy-five?”
Ken nodded and went to take his wallet out. Hunter waved his hand at Ken and shook his head.
“Ok look,” Hunter continued with the person over the phone, “that’s no good. Don’t be a douche. I’ll throw in an additional twenty-five as a bonus if you can get them done and in my hands in half that time. I need them by Thursday at the latest. Twenty of them. Exactly to those specs. Exactly. Ok? … Oh, come on man, I know if you shut down production of everything else and focus on this one thing, your guys could have them done tonight. So don’t jerk me around. I’m asking a personal favor. And willing to pay. I need these made and you have every single nut and bolt right there.”
There was a rather long pause and before he ended the call Hunter said, “Ok good. Don’t make me come hunt down your family. You know I will. Contact me at this number when you’re ready to ship them; I’ll give you the address and we’ll settle up then. If I need to change numbers for some reason, I’ll email you. You’re awesome, man thanks.”
After he hung up, Hunter placed another call.
“This is Hunter Kennerly from Caltech calling for Anderson. Tell him I’m calling in my favor. He’ll know who I am. Don’t put me on hold. If I hear that music, I’ll have you fired. I’m not fucking kidding.”
Again, he put his hand over the microphone and whispered to Ken, “I designed some simple neuroprosthetic for his friend’s son. Some surfing accident or shark attack or some shit. He contacted me personally all crying and shit and said he’d consider it a personal favor. The fucker couldn’t have kissed my ass harder afterwards if he tried.”
Hunter switched back to the phone when the Anderson fellow obviously accepted his call. “Yeah … yup yup, good … How is he? … Great … Yeah. That’s right. How soon can you get me on? … No good, I’ll be ready by Friday. Can you push something around? … Hell, schedule a special on Saturday. Trust me Anderson, I’ll come in early and show you what I’ve got. This will be the biggest story you could dream of. Fuck Bill O’Reilly. I fucking hate Bill O’Reilly. No one else but you can touch this … Yeah … Yup, so you know it’s something good … Yeah. In D.C. … Ok, give me an address,” Hunter typed something into his computer. “Ok, let’s meet two hours beforehand, and you can take it for a test run yourself. You won’t believe it Anderson; you won’t fucking believe it … Ok … Ok … Film on Saturday but air on Monday, that’s fine with me … Good, make it happen. If I don’t see you Saturday, I’m taking that kid’s leg back … You’re right, sorry, that’s not funny. But I will.”
Another called ended, and another call placed immediately after. The person didn’t answer so Hunter sent a text message and within thirty seconds his phone rang.
“Hey babe, book a hotel around D.C. for tomorrow. A nice one. Be available all day tomorrow and wait my further sexy ass instructions.”
Hunter looked at Brock and raised his eyebrows suggestively a couple of times. Brock rolled his eyes.
“You got it, don’t worry about that, just get your sugar tits here.”
With that, Hunter hit “end” on his phone, threw it on the table, and sat down by straddling the chair in front of him. Ken didn’t know what to think. Within no more than fifteen minutes of his arrival, Hunter coordinated the production of twenty factory-made Veil units, scheduled a television appearance, and arranged what suspiciously sounded like a booty-call.
Ken couldn’t be sure on that
last one.
All the above while saying something offensive or insulting to each person, no less. Who the hell was he? Ken found it hard to believe the sophomoric whirlwind of a man in his lab was the same person who designed the mobile Veil unit. If he didn’t know better he’d think he was on that Candid Camera show where they tricked people. He almost hoped he was. It might be better than that Hunter guy actually earning a doctorate.
“So,” Hunter settled down, “what’s up?”
Ken stuttered, “Uhhh … uhhh, I don’t … ummm, I mean—” but was interrupted by the voice from Brock’s chair.
“I know how it seems, but he really is a genius or whatever.”
“Oh I’m a genius all right,” Hunter laughed. “I’m Hunter fucking Kennerly, bitches!” He clapped once and hooted a loud, “Wooooo!” As he shouted, Hunter threw up what Ken assumed were some kind of gang signs or something.
“You’re manic is what you are,” was his friend’s response.
“This is just not what I expected,” Ken said. In comparison to Hunter he couldn’t have sounded more stoic and lame. His own uptight demeanor suddenly embarrassed him, so he consciously tried to relax and lighten up.
“I get it,” Hunter assured him. “I really do. I’m a parody of myself anyway so I’m used to it. I’m too wired and tired to put on any airs right now. I’m running on fumes at this point to be honest.”
“I hear you there,” Ken agreed. “I actually spent the night at the lab, so I’d be here first thing. I didn’t know what time you all would be arriving. Suren should be here shortly.”
“Good. Guess we should all get caught up. Get on the same page and shit. I’ve bought us some time, with my buddy’s help, so although the pressure is still on, it’s not on as much.”
“Where do we start, then?” Ken asked.
“Well, let’s take a look at this ugly ass neckband you made for us,” Hunter joked.
By noon, and with Suren’s arrival, they’d gone over how each of them arrived at that point and reviewed the details of Hunter’s game plan. It was a remarkably well thought-out plan, and although Ken initially worried how Suren would react to Hunter’s abrasive personality, she seemed able to take it all in stride. After all, he was the guy who essentially made what she and Ken were trying to accomplish not only possible but able to happen quicker than they dreamed.
Without Hunter and Brock, Ken could’ve worked for a year to develop a sensible device. And apparently there was no way Ken possessed production and marketing connections comparable to Hunter’s. Heck, he not only had them but could utilize them all in fifteen minutes flat.
Hunter made two requests. First, he wanted to test the device using himself and Brock. Hunter would be Brock’s subject, which meant Brock would shadow Hunter. That was news to Brock, so he was a bit shocked at first, but he wasn’t at all against the idea. Brock was dying to try Veil ever since Hunter first explained it. His initial thought when Hunter said he wanted him to help test it was, Hell yeah motherfucker! Unlike Hunter, he didn’t say stuff like that out loud … in front of strangers.
Second, Hunter continued, after they got all caught up, he wanted to take the rest of the day off. There were some things he needed to take care of and the only way he could do them was to cut himself loose for the day. He said it was too much detail to go into and none of it really mattered much anyway. Some personal things that needed attending to and some things that would ease his mind as well. All he required was a ride to go pick up a rental car, and Ken was more than happy to oblige with that. In addition, Ken ended up being willing, although not so happy, to let Hunter use his credit card to get the rental.
After the commotion died down, when everyone was mid-meal and in good spirits, Suren brought up something that gnawed at her.
She raised her eyebrows at Brock and calmly asked, “One of the things you said the first time you called was that you knew what happened to my husband. You know what happened to my Jin?”
Hunter shot a quick glance at Brock, who was already looking at him, let out an “Errr…” and picked up his drink. After a large gulp, he answered for Brock. “I’m sorry if he gave you that impression,” he paused long enough to kick Brock’s chair with the side of his foot. Brock shrugged his shoulders as much as he could. “But I don’t know exactly what happened to your husband. All I know is what I was told. That’s all I know.”
“I’d like to know what all you were told. All of it, please,” Suren quietly requested but didn’t look up from the food she pretended to pick through.
“Honestly, and I’m not one to spare anyone’s feelings, so I’m not leaving anything out to spare yours, but honestly, the only thing I was told came from the General. All he said—pretty bluntly—was that he hoped he wasn’t forced to have me killed like he did the guy who created Veil. Your husband.”
Suren still didn’t look up from her food.
Which Hunter found rather fucking creepy.
No wonder them Japanese make such twisted movies. My ass is sittin’ across from The Grudge right now. Oh … I wonder if the bitch is Japanese. Probably not a good time to ask. Nah, prolly not right now.
She continued to interrogate him. “That’s what he said, that he had Jin killed? The evil bastard ordered my Jin’s execution?”
Nope, definitely not a good time to ask.
Hunter gulped and confirmed. “Yes, that’s exactly what he said. That he had him killed.”
Suren put down her fork and, like in a scene he’d expect from a mobster movie, slowly lifted her napkin from her lap, wiped the corners of her mouth, refolded it and placed it back on her lap. All without looking up. After she sat quiet and perfectly still for nearly a minute, she finally raised her head to look at him.
“And what was that person’s name?”
Hunter cleared his throat, “Coffman … General Coffman … General Eugene Coffman. He’s got a bitch of a wife named Lynn Coffman. I know where they live and everything.”
“No that’s fine,” Suren quietly declined, barely above a whisper. She picked up her fork and, as she picked at her food again, she added, “The two doctors you mentioned that were working on Jin’s project. What were their names?”
“Ummm … Carl Schaffer and Luke Pollock. But I’m not sure how much they had to do with—”
She cut him off. “That’s fine. That’s enough. Thank you. I appreciate it.” She stopped toying with her food and ate.
Hunter knew one thing for sure: Suren didn’t need to write down any of those names. Her expression was that of a woman who would remember those names for the rest of her life. Or at least until she did something to them, fucking Kill Bill style. Samurai Suren would remember those names until she did whatever she obviously intended to do. Anyway, Hunter concluded, the crazy bitch did an impeccable O-Ren Ishii impersonation. That was for goddamn sure.
Later in the afternoon Hunter took Brock aside.
“Heyyy buddy,” he started but realized he sounded patronizing—buddy?—so he changed his tone. “You know I couldn’t have done any of this without you, but right now there’s some shit I have to go take care of. Nothing major and nothing risky, just some shit to line up. Make sure we can all get started on the right foot, ya know?”
Brock nodded.
“So I’ll be gone for a while, probably until later tonight. You can use some rest anyway, plus you can get to know Ken and scary ol’ Lucy Liu over there. I want you to rest up for tomorrow, when we get to take this fucking thing for a ride. And you know we’re going to push that shit to the max. We’re gunna make Veil our bitch, you hear me?”
After a moment Brock’s computer declared rather loudly, “HELLS TO THE YES!”
Hunter laughed, “Ok. I’ll see you later tonight and if you’re already asleep then first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll get started first thing, bud.”
“I’ll be here,” Brock grinned.
Hunter kissed the top of Brock’s head and left the lab.
For
dinner that night Suren, Ken, and Brock sat around one of the long lab tables, with Brock’s chair positioned at the end. He hated that; it was like he was a baby in a high chair. He knew it was unavoidable, though. The trio shared some Thai food and Brock told them about his and Hunter’s history. Suren and Ken enjoyed their time alone together, but the addition of someone new talking about something different made them realize they lived nothing but Jin and Veil for so long that it consumed their lives. Through Hunter and Brock, they found themselves thrust into another life with other people and it was refreshing. It also helped them brace for the upcoming transition they knew was in store.
Everything was moving so quickly. It all started the minute the Tsay home phone rang that first time. It escalated from that moment on and, once Hunter and Brock arrived at the door of Ken’s lab, it seemed like everything was sent into fast-forward. They knew for safety reasons alone it needed to be like that. It wasn’t too much to imagine how, when the military realized Hunter was gone, they would put the entire District on lock down for a manhunt. The military was capable of anything, so the four of them had to assume the worst. To be safe, they had to assume the military would hunt them down like ninjas with alien superpowers. And worse, they had to assume the military would find them.
They developed a mantra: Test it, produce it, release it. Test it, produce it, release it. Test it, produce it, release it. They all spent the night at the lab. Tuesday would be the beginning and turning back or slowing down would probably mean death.
Hunter wanted to start first thing in the morning. There was no reason to waste time. They knew a test run had to be performed immediately. With the additional programming added and everything up to full specifications, Ken’s ugly Veil device was ready to perform. Suren decided to pass on being present for the test run, since she suffered from lingering, conflicted feelings about what Jin did to her. She headed back to the Tsay home to cook.
Veil Page 20