The Black Market DNA Series: Books 1-3

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The Black Market DNA Series: Books 1-3 Page 70

by Anthony J Melchiorri


  Robin patted the handle of the stunner tucked into her waistband. “Besides, I don’t plan on just knocking on this guy’s door.”

  “All right, I know you all are fired up,” Hugh said, “but how do you know you can trust this Vincent guy?”

  “My man, you’ve got a point,” Jordan said. “But if clues charged a battery, we’d be running out of juice. Vincent’s business, as far as he’s concerned, has as much riding on our success as we do.”

  “Screw Vincent.” Chris’s stomach churned at the thought that the man sat happily back in Korea, out of his grasp, and watching this whole thing unfold before his eyes as though it was nothing more than a show on the holo.

  A slight buzzing sounded from the front seat. Jordan reached into his pocket and pulled out the source of the vibrations. He stared at the comm card, and his lips broke out in a wide, knowing grin. He showed the card’s display to the others.

  At once, Chris knew Jordan had been right about Vincent’s eavesdropping through the comm card. Jordan pressed a button so the comm card projected holograms throughout the car’s cabin.

  One holovideo showed David Reed creeping through the hospital’s laboratory and withdrawing two vials from the freezer.

  “My patients’ blood samples,” Robin said, her jaw slack.

  Another floating file documented a message allegedly originating from Robin from within the hospital. Though the message used Robin’s internal hospital identification number, its encrypted ID tag revealed it had originated from Dr. David Reed’s comm card. It demanded the immediate release of her patients, Jacob and Nancy Wright. Robin squirmed in her seat. Chris imagined she felt uncomfortable with the flagrant violation of patient privacy taking place, but she could do nothing to stem the flow of whatever Vincent’s hackers unveiled.

  Jordan waved his hand above an audio file icon. The recording played, and Reed’s voice filled the car. “Yes?”

  A woman’s voice responded. “Did you speak with Sharp?”

  “I did. I couldn’t convince him. He’s pushing for the law. Worse, I think he’s being paid off by someone else.”

  The file ended abruptly. It was dated weeks before Sharp had been assassinated, when he still campaigned to increase regulations on biotech companies to stem the flow of illegal technology into the black market.

  Chris filled in the blanks left by the recording. Sharp’s intentions concerned whoever had been speaking with Reed. And if Reed had met with the senator and tried to dissuade him from tightening the FDA’s grip around medical companies, then Sharp would’ve known the corrupt doctor personally.

  When the FBI had come knocking, Sharp could’ve identified Reed as another individual involved in the enhancement trade. The senator’s confessions and allegations could end Reed’s illegal business. Each file and document and recording now on Jordan’s comm card seemed to help piece the story together.

  “So Reed is the asshole.” Despite the confidence in her words, Robin squinted at the floating holograms. “I’m still not quite sure what his association with Blackbird or Protiomics is, though.”

  “That appears a question best suited for Dr. Reed himself,” Jordan said. “Shall we make that house call?”

  Chris searched his contacts for Reed’s address. He found it and relayed it to Jordan, who tapped it into the car’s holodisplay. The vehicle hummed louder as its tires grabbed hold of the asphalt, and they took off. Streetlights illuminated patches of the road, but they didn’t bother turning on the headlights. An autodriving car didn’t need lights to see where it headed.

  But not being able to see past the car’s hood unnerved Chris. It always had. He trusted the vehicle’s software capabilities. Yet that ancient instinct, that burning desire to peer through the pervasive darkness of night, nagged at him. An illogical worry that the car would run into a fire hydrant or parked car or, God forbid, a person crossing the street danced across his mind.

  None of those scenarios would ever happen. Car accidents were almost entirely a relic of the past. Besides, few cars or pedestrians were out at this time of night on a weekday.

  Nevertheless, he turned away from the windshield and instead focused on the passing buildings as they plunged into downtown Baltimore. The reflection of their red Audi swam through the dark windows of closed storefronts and restaurants like a shark gliding toward its prey.

  Another glimmer caught his eye. In the glass, a deep-blue or black car—he couldn’t quite tell—flew behind theirs. He peered through the rear window.

  Sure enough, another vehicle appeared to be following. He waited a tick as the Audi took a right. The other car shot straight ahead. He breathed a sigh of relief and shrank into his seat, the heavy weight of exhaustion dragging his eyelids down.

  Sleepiness. That had been it. Maybe he was being paranoid. No, not paranoid. Cautious. He’d been through enough to understand the difference.

  The tense silence in the car did nothing to obscure the tiredness he felt from his brief journey to Korea and back. It all seemed like a dream. Maybe a nightmare.

  He shook himself awake. Ana needed them. There was no use feeling sorry for himself, for his exhaustion, when she might be in David Reed’s clutches or might be dead for all they knew.

  A tingle crept down his spine. He glanced through the rear window again. The blue car had returned.

  Chapter 31

  “Someone’s following us,” Chris said.

  Jordan cursed under his breath. “Are you sure?”

  “Take a right.”

  Overriding the autodrive’s directions, Jordan tapped on the holodisplay to force the car to take a right at the next intersection. They rolled up to the juncture, slowed, and turned.

  “It’s still behind us,” Chris said.

  Jordan gripped the handle of his pistol. His second gun, tucked into his waistband, pressed against the small of his back. He glanced at the rearview camera display.

  The car tailing them lay in the shadows, its headlights off. The map on the holodisplay showed they were a couple of minutes out from David Reed’s house.

  He had been stupid to assume some thug hadn’t been left near the Equest Advantage facilities to keep an eye out for them. These people already knew Robin had helped Ana to lie low and solve the Blackbird case. If they possessed any semblance of intelligence, they knew that Chris—and by association he—were involved with Robin and Ana. He tightened his grip around his pistol. “We’re going to need to split up.”

  “No way,” Robin said. “Last time we split up, we lost Ana. We’re not risking that again.”

  “He’s right. We can’t have them tail us all the way to Reed’s place.” Chris grabbed her hand. “But I’m not leaving you this time. That okay with you, Jordan?”

  “Of course, my man. Hugh, you good with being my partner for the night?”

  “Whatever you say, boss.” The glow of the passing streetlights illuminated the lab tech’s wide grin. Hugh was a bit of a toady, but at that moment, Jordan didn’t mind.

  The car took a left, correcting its path toward Reed’s. The looming silhouettes of trees passed by as they drew into a neighborhood filled with enormous houses.

  One minute away, according to the holodisplay. Jordan tapped on the screen to change their destination. He clicked a random point headed north of the city, out near Towson. He didn’t care where the car went, but he didn’t want to make a direct pass by Reed’s residence.

  The Audi took a hard right, leading back out of the neighborhood and into the jungle of buildings constituting downtown Baltimore.

  “Robin and Chris, get ready,” he said. “On my mark, I’m going to have you two jump out. Hide, and we’ll keep going. While these people are chasing us, you can head back to the doctor’s house.” He locked eyes with Chris. “Be careful.”

  “We will be,” Chris said, his eyes narrowed.

  Jordan directed the car to take a hard left, then a right. They passed the neon signs advertising gentlemen’s clubs and paw
n shops. Men dragging on cigarettes leaned against walls and windows covered by graffiti. “This is going to be your best bet.”

  “Fine,” Robin said, the uncertainty in her voice evident. “Just tell us when.”

  Deactivating the autodrive, Jordan jerked the wheel to the right. Hugh slammed into the window.

  “Sorry, my man.”

  They plunged into an alley. A small group of men scattered, throwing out expletives as they passed. Jordan hit a button on the holodisplay, and the doors clicked as they unlocked.

  “Now!”

  Both Robin and Chris lunged out of the car. He saw their silhouettes merge into the shadows of the dumpsters and piles of trash bags. The pursuing vehicle pushed through the group of drunks. Bottles of liquor and beer crashed against the stalking car.

  He held his breath as the vehicle passed by the gloom hiding Chris and Robin. The car careened through the alley, now yards away from the Audi. Whoever rode in that vehicle hadn’t noticed Chris and Robin’s exit and was determined to stay on Jordan.

  He gripped the steering wheel hard and, with a flick, he turned off the car’s autodrive.

  “What’s the plan?” Hugh asked.

  “Don’t have one yet,” Jordan said, cranking the wheel left.

  Hugh slammed against the door. “A warning would be nice.” He rubbed his shoulder.

  The spooks following them sped up, their car’s grille filling up the rearview cam on the holodisplay.

  Jordan jolted forward. Their pursuers had rammed their rear bumper. These people weren’t going to let up easily, and they weren’t worried about their brazen actions attracting attention.

  “Left,” Jordan said, spinning the wheel. Hugh braced himself this time as they cut through a red light. A truck in the oncoming lane wailed its horn, and it skidded into the intersection. The spooks deftly curled past the truck.

  Gritting his teeth, Jordan smashed his foot onto the pedal. The car jumped forward, its electric motor whining. He accelerated toward a highway off-ramp and plunged into oncoming traffic. He prayed the onrushing vehicles were all autodrive. The automobiles’ software systems could handle an erratic, crazed driver like him.

  Human drivers, not so much.

  He snaked through cars and trucks, bleating horns accompanying his every move. One semi-truck with a tail of self-driving trailers buzzed past. The behemoth convoy left a wake of turbulence, causing the Audi to shake. Jordan tightened his fingers around the wheel and fought against the shuddering vehicle.

  Sweat trickled down his brow, and the salty water stung his eyes. Lights illuminating the side of the highway blurred with those of the passing vehicles. He stole a glance at the rearview cam.

  Their pursuers hadn’t let up a foot. He debated telling Hugh to fire on them. But the handgun could only do so much damage, and Hugh didn’t frequent gun ranges. They’d be expending ammunition that might prove vital if this chase ended.

  An oncoming car skimmed past, knocking off his driver’s-side mirror.

  No, when it ended, Jordan thought. He couldn’t keep up this pace. He yanked hard on the wheel. A car barreled toward him, and he jerked right. Metal scraped on concrete as they hit the barrier on an entrance ramp. They careened onto a street filled with low-lying brick office buildings bathed in darkness. His car bounced as a wheel jumped the curb.

  The road opened up, and fewer cars traversed this street. That meant fewer opportunities to shake the spooks once again filling the rearview cam.

  Jordan flew forward. His head smacked against the airbags. Dust filled the air. The electric motor whirred louder before quieting. His vision blurred; the lights swam.

  Rain slammed against the hood of his car.

  His head started pounding, pain coursing down his spine.

  No, it wasn’t rain. He’d hit a fire hydrant. It tilted back from the sidewalk like a man’s head on a broken neck.

  He pressed a palm into his head, cursing himself for his stupidity.

  “You okay?” Hugh asked, rubbing his own temple. He unbuckled himself and swung around, a pistol in one hand. “Where the hell did they go?”

  The door tore open as if ripped off by a tornado. A man in a blue tracksuit ripped it from its hinges and flung it across the street. The door slid across the asphalt, crashing to a halt when it hit a parked car. He grabbed Jordan’s collar and dragged him out of the car. Lifting him with one hand, the man registered no emotion in his chiseled features.

  Jordan kicked, but the man in the tracksuit took each blow without a flinch. He reached into the car, still holding Jordan, took a glance around the cabin, and grabbed the pistol Jordan had dropped earlier. He slipped it into his waistband. “You’ve been enough trouble. Let’s make this easy.”

  His grip tightened around Jordan’s neck. Jordan gasped for air and pried at the man’s thick fingers, but he was superhumanly strong. The man was an enhancer. Maybe even a former customer of Jordan’s.

  He landed another kick directed at Tracksuit’s kidney. The man didn’t flinch. A menacing grin cracked across his face. “There’s only one way you get to breathe again.” He tightened his grip, agony exploding in Jordan’s neck. Then he loosened his fingers enough for Jordan to inhale. “And I won’t take any bullshit for an answer. Do you understand?”

  Jordan opened his mouth, gasping for breath.

  “Where is the doctor?”

  Jordan would never give up Robin’s whereabouts. That meant giving up Chris, too. If he died tonight, he wanted Chris to live, to finish this. “Screw you.”

  Tracksuit’s fingers clenched and crushed his windpipe. He tried to yell but could only manage to open his mouth like a fish sucking in air on a dock. A sudden wave of calm washed over him. His body was giving up, his mind failing. His limbs went limp, his world spinning in black.

  Chapter 32

  Chris stood from behind the dumpster, and Robin emerged from the alley’s shadows beside him. He took a last glance at the street where Jordan had led the other car.

  “You know your way back toward Reed’s?” he asked.

  Robin nodded and patted the small of her back.

  “You okay?”

  “Yep, making sure the stunner’s still there.”

  Not a bad idea, Chris thought, eyeing the disheveled group that had reformed since the two cars had charged through the alley. He grabbed the pistol stuck in his waistband.

  “What the hell is this?” One of the drunks, cigarette in hand, sauntered toward them. “You two partying back here?”

  One of his buddies rubbed his hands together. “Why weren’t we invited?”

  Chris left one hand on the pistol, but he didn’t want to use it. Half a dozen men gathered around, their boots crunching on the broken glass from the thrown bottles. The stench of alcohol and body odor stung Chris’s nostrils. He held a hand up in a placating gesture as he walked over the puddles of liquor and beer. “No party here, I’m afraid. We’re a rather dull couple.”

  “Let’s go out the other way,” Robin said, taking a step back. “We can loop around the block.”

  The drunk shook his head. “Now, now.” His bloodshot eyes traced them up and down. “You two look fancy, and we wasted all our drinks on those assholes driving through here.”

  Now Chris took a step back. A glint of light flickered off something metal in one of the man’s hands.

  A gun.

  “So it’d be real nice of you two to pay for our next round. What do you say?”

  Chris backed away, putting his body between Robin and the ragged group. He considered running, but these men didn’t look like the type to hesitate to give chase. Judging by their state of inebriation, it might not even trouble them to use their weapons instead of bothering with a clumsy run after Chris and Robin.

  He glanced around, trying to see whose hands already hovered near their weapons. One reached behind his back. Another played with the handle of a pistol tucked into his waistband. The rest stood behind the man with bloodshot eyes, t
heir stares vacant.

  Something was wrong with these people. Maybe they’d been mixing their cocktails with something far more potent. Chris didn’t care to investigate. He spoke in a low voice to Robin. “You got your stunner ready? Guy in the white tee and the other wearing shorts have weapons.”

  Robin gave a subtle nod, her gaze locked ahead as she backed up.

  Chris feared the men were like wild animals. Make any sudden move, any aggressive gesture, any attempt to flee, and they’d attack. He wasn’t about to turn his back and let them take potshots at him. “We don’t have cash. Hell, we don’t even have cards on us.” That was only partially untrue. Robin’s lay in tattered pieces back in the Equest lab, where Ana had apparently shredded it.

  The man with bloodshot eyes smirked. “You ain’t telling the truth, boy. That car drops you off in our lap, goes running off with another hot on its tail. Something fishy is going on, and I want to know what it is.”

  “Trust me, you don’t,” Chris said. Robin slowly withdrew the stunner.

  “I don’t trust strangers.” The man reached behind his back. A blue arc of electricity hit him, and he fell.

  Another bolt zapped the man in the white T-shirt. He dropped with a thud. The man in shorts crumpled beside him. Robin played the stunner back and forth, but the remaining three men held their hands up.

  “You’re letting us pass or you join them,” she said.

  She marched toward them, stunner trained at the group. Chris stepped over the gang leader’s unconscious body, and they exited onto the sidewalk. Neon lights glowed from the windows of bars and restaurants. None of the trendier expensive holoprojection signs common downtown appeared outside any of these establishments. A couple men smoking cigarettes eyed them as they pushed down the sidewalk, but neither made a move.

  Chris kept an eye on the alley. The six antagonizing men didn’t follow. Robin tucked her stunner into the waistband of her slacks, and they jogged.

  One block later, the iron-barred windows and seedy storefronts gave way to a tree-lined street filled with row houses. No one meandered across their path to demand money. Another right led them back into Reed’s neighborhood, a marked contrast with the scummy area they’d run from. Chris had always been amazed at how Baltimore seemed like a haphazardly constructed quilt, one patch made from golden silk, the next from rotted fabric riddled with moth holes.

 

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