by M. G Scott
“No!” Vua barked.
“But—”
“I want the exact opposite. I don’t want her knowing we’re tracking her. Find out where she’s going. When she gets there, distract her with Gina—and then… I’ll join you.”
A pause. “Sir … are you sure Gina’s ready?”
“She’s more than ready,” Vua stated.
“And what are you going to do with her?”
A small smile worked its way from Vua’s mouth. “Let’s just say she won’t be around for long.”
Rico sighed. “BioHumanity can’t authorize that. You know it’s against our bylaws as an international corporation. It’s why …” His voice trailed off.
“Just say it,” Vua boomed into the phone.
“Sir, it’s why we have contractors.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Vua hissed. “I need this taken care of immediately. And I’m going to personally see it through.”
“Then consider it done,” Rico replied softly.
Vua flipped the phone onto his desk. The bitch was poison. But now he would witness her permanent demise.
He thought for a second and then pulled a second phone from the desk. He dialed Mannheim’s emergency number—something he only used when it was urgent. It rang to voicemail. What was disconcerting was Mannheim never failed to answer knowing who was calling. Vua threw the phone back in the drawer and slammed it closed.
What happened in that taxi?
He eyed Sanchez’s journal still half-open on his desk. He had the evidence. But now the reporter was in the building. The simple fact was he didn’t need Mannheim anymore.
Ironically, the bitch had just saved him a million dollar payout.
Chapter 53
Trying to hide the rush she was in, Sabrina strolled briskly past the nurses’ station outside Helen’s room and headed toward the South Inland—or SI—wing. When the doors opened on the seventh floor she stepped out and froze. Was it the right floor? The wing looked nothing like the rest of the building. Sterile, pure white walls greeted her everywhere she turned. There was only one door: A simple stainless-steel one with no windows that seemed to emphasize the minimalist décor. To Sabrina, it looked like some kind of research wing; but whatever it was, the floor definitely was not meant for donors.
She turned toward the door and read the placard next to it. “S … I,” she whispered. She gave the door a tug, but it refused to budge. She eyed the security reader blinking red. Would her card possibly work up here? She swiped the reader and held her breath. After a second, the door clicked open. I do have an angel, she thought.
She cautiously peered inside. Stark white walls covered the hallway, with stainless-steel doors scattered along one of the walls the only thing breaking the monotony. She stepped through and closed the door gently behind her. Numbers were printed in a simple black font on the doors, starting with 770. Her target was close. She moved down the hall and turned the corner. “790,” she whispered at the last door on the left.
Located next to the door was another security reader but this one seemed different. Wondering again if her card would work, she waved it in front of the reader but nothing seemed to happen. C’mon, she thought. She tried again. Silence.
Okay, now what? She peered closer and realized it was a thumbprint reader. For a moment, she pondered the switch in security. Obviously whatever was behind these doors needed to be more secure than anywhere else in the Donor Center. That was telling and meant she may be on the right path. But she also knew she didn’t have much time. It wouldn’t be long before they found the real Theresa Carlos.
She reached into her backpack and grabbed the pistol. She eyed the silencer fitted on the end, hoping it would be quiet enough for what she was about to do. Lowering the gun, she pointed at the reader and fired a shot from a foot away. The reader exploded, scattering pieces like a firework. But the main guts stayed attached, bouncing up and down like a yo-yo from the exposed wiring.
She crouched near the smoldering mess and counted the wires in the wall. She was no electronics whiz but she knew from her days as a culinary student that kitchen cookware and appliances went out all the time. And since she didn’t have the money to replace them, she worked with a friend to fix whatever she could—and learned a few things along the way. She knew outlets had a hot wire—a white one that went straight to the source—while the neutral, usually red or black, went to the switch, or reader in this case. But this one was a bit different: It had red, black, yellow, and blue wires. When she traced the yellow and blue back into the wall, their route took them away from the door, meaning they weren’t being used to open the door. So that only left the red and black. She traced the black one: It went up toward the ceiling. Must be the power source, she thought.
She grabbed the reader and pulled hard on the black wire until it snapped away from the reader. She did the same with the red wire. Biting her lower lip, praying this was right, she pressed the two wires together. The door buzzed and clicked open. Smiling at her success, she dropped the wires and pushed open the door. She stopped. Not yet, she thought. She swept the reader’s guts into the room and then jammed what was left of the switch back into the wall.
At first she couldn’t see much. Glass windows encircled the room, but they were tinted gray, giving the room a somber mood, even with a navy blue-tiled floor that seemed to run the length of the room. Sabrina took a few steps forward, knowing she needed to keep moving—it wouldn’t take long for someone to realize her intrusion.
When her eyes adjusted, the room morphed into something she hadn’t expected: A science lab. But it wasn’t any lab she had seen before—either in college or on the Internet. Along the windows, lab computers and other machines blinked red, yellow, and green. Below a row of gray cabinets, vials of liquid capped red, blue, and black filled the counter.
Her eyes settled on something more fascinating: Aluminum rods—maybe fifty of them—hung from the ceiling across the room. Suspended from the rods were heavily tinted black capsules, the size of a small bassinet. She walked toward one and touched it with a hand. It was smooth, like a bowling ball. She bent over and cupped her hands against the capsule to take a look, but it was too dark to see anything.
She went to another one—still nothing to see. That’s when she noticed a small touchpad next to each capsule. She touched the screen and it sprang to life, highlighting buttons like a mobile app. One of the buttons was marked Incubator Light so she touched it. A subtle reddish-orange LED light began to glow inside the capsule. As the lights took hold, she gasped.
A web of wires spun throughout its interior. But it was the middle of the capsule that caught her attention: Something small—maybe two inches in diameter—was suspended from the wires. At first it looked like raw chicken meat. But the more she peered at it, the more she realized it was something more—something much more. As she stared, she realized it was expanding and contracting—like a heart—but its beats were easily two or three times faster than a human one. That can’t possibly be a heart. She walked around to the other side, placing her hand delicately on top of the capsule as she continued staring at it.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. They had done it. They had created a human heart.
She turned toward another capsule and tapped its touchpad, bringing the incubator light to life. Another suspended heart, this time maybe half the size. She ran to a third capsule and flipped its light on. This heart was the biggest so far, the size of a baseball.
There was a sudden thud behind her. She froze. Did she hear something or imagine it?
“What do you think?” a voice said from the doorway.
Chapter 54
Sabrina whipped her head toward the woman’s voice. “I don’t know what to say. I mean … it’s a miracle.”
The woman came closer, but Sabrina could still barely make out her features, except she was tall, maybe five-eleven. She pointed to a capsule. “That incubator’s for Marjorie. She’s in NV-399, just days
away from her life-changing event.”
Sabrina felt for the pistol as she stepped toward the woman. She needed to regain her composure—quickly. “This is the most amazing place I’ve ever seen.”
“Without a doubt,” confirmed the woman. She moved near one of the incubators Sabrina had turned on, the dim light drawing out her features. She was dressed in a white lab coat over dark purple scrubs that were matched with gray Crocs. Her smile was welcoming, like she wanted to be friends. Dark, flowing hair stopped at the shoulders, making her look younger than she probably really was. Her eyebrows arched high, but her jaw was long, casting an oval shadow on her face. Overall, she was strikingly beautiful.
Sabrina stepped closer. “You must be a doctor. Are you responsible for the lab?”
The woman laughed. “Me? No … just a tech for the S-I wing.”
Sabrina eyed her coat but didn’t see the familiar security badge.
“I’m Gina Hyde … if you’re wondering.”
Sabrina’s face flushed red, she was sure of it. “I’m sorry … did you say Gina?”
“Yes.” A pause. “And you are?”
Suddenly, she forgot the name she had assumed. And then it came back. “Theresa Carlos, Bio Technician.” She reached out her hand.
Gina didn’t take it. “No, it’s not.”
“Excuse me?”
“For one, you did a number on the security scanner outside. That tells me you didn’t have clearance for the room—”
“Me?” Sabrina replied defensively, interrupting her. “It was like that already.”
Gina’s smiled sweetened. “Sure it was.”
“Whatever.”
“And two … we just recovered Theresa from a patient’s bathroom.”
“No,” Sabrina replied. “You must have—”
“Let’s get real, Sabrina.” Her voice turned sour. “We know your real name. And we know why you’re here.”
Sabrina was taken aback by Gina’s sudden prickly personality. Maybe she was the one that caused Gregory to drink. “And why is that?”
“To ruin every patient in this heart center who’s getting a second chance at life.”
“No … that’s not true!”
Gina ignored her. “Take the heart in the far corner. That one belongs to Kara Fischer, a dietician who ate all the right things in life. Her only fault? Genetics.”
“And then there’s Percy Strueger—a world-class executive at the top of his game. His only problem? High blood pressure.”
“And then there’s Blair Archer, a dear friend of mine.” She paused. “She’s here because of a chronic heart condition known as cardiomyopathy.” Gina took a few steps to her left, tapping an incubator. “This is the heart she’s getting … one that started in me.”
Sabrina nodded. It was starting to make sense: It was Gina. “Why did you do it?”
“Because Blair needed the help or she was going to die. And they needed a transplant that her body wouldn’t reject.”
“And how do they make sure of that?”
“Through the stem cells they use—family is as sure a thing as you can get.”
“But you’re not related,” Sabrina interjected.
“No, but my fetus is.”
“What do you mean?” And then it hit her. “You’re not saying …”
Gina nodded emphatically. “Her brother Gregory and I had a long relationship … and I’ll confess it was filled with a lot of drama. Then I hit a wall … I just couldn’t take it anymore so I decided to end it. But that’s when I found out I was pregnant with his baby.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, but it’s a secret. I only told one person—the person that matters the most.”
Sabrina bit her lip. “Are you talking about Blair?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell Gina Blair hadn’t kept the secret. “Why didn’t you tell Gregory? I’m sure he would’ve wanted to know.”
Gina shook her head. “And then I would’ve been chained to him forever. I just couldn’t let myself do that. Besides, I’m doing this for Blair. Gregory may not like the choice but he’s going to like the outcome.”
Sabrina’s mind was racing. “So you had the abortion and BioHumanity used the stem cells to grow the heart,” she replied, relating a conversation with Brieman to the one she was having now.
“Yes, it’s the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“Then tell me something.”
“What’s that?”
“Why aren’t you in the database?”
Gina seemed confused. “How do you mean?”
“The donors … like you … are supposed to be registered. I checked with the receptionist and you’re not in the system.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Any idea why?”
She thought about an answer. “Yes … it’s because I’m part of the BioHumanity family now. It’s a special honor … and so they give you special treatment.”
“Why would you want to do that? I mean… I just met your roommate Helen and she’s going home.”
Gina’s face brightened—the mention of her friend seemed to raise her spirits. “Helen … she’s the second best thing that’s happened to me.” Then she added, “I want to stay because this is the only life I want—being here, helping these people.”
“Hmm.” Sabrina wasn’t following her logic. “But Helen tells a different story. She says you found something … or know something … and they took you away. Is that true?”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” she replied curtly.
“Why not?” Sabrina interjected. “What do you know?”
“Let me be clear: It’s not important.” Her response was terse.
“The hell it isn’t,” Sabrina replied angrily. Gina took an aggressive step forward but Sabrina would have none of it as she pulled the gun from her backpack.
Gina’s face flashed surprise and then anger. “What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Sabrina repeated. “Four people died because of BioHumanity, and you’re telling me it’s not important.”
“That’s complete nonsense.” Gina replied.
“I don’t think so.” Sabrina shook the gun at her. “You are going to tell me exactly what you know.”
Gina looked into her eyes, as if trying to understand how serious Sabrina was.
“Now!” Sabrina screamed.
Gina’s frame shook from Sabrina’s outburst and then her shoulders slumped. She sighed. “It doesn’t matter anymore anyway—there’s no way you’re going to make it out of here alive.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I found a flash drive in my jacket,” Gina started. “The demonstrators must’ve given it to me when I walked in.”
“What demonstrators?”
“You didn’t see them? Outside the Center?”
Sabrina shook her head. “Nobody was out there … just pedestrians.”
“Steven must’ve figured out a way to remove them … maybe the Mexican authorities stepped in.”
“What were they demonstrating against?”
“It looked like an organization against abortion—definitely US-based … there must’ve been twenty or thirty women chanting, holding signs with pictures of aborted fetuses. Honestly, it was sick. But the Center was definitely concerned. They had extra security helping us get through the crowd. After that, I didn’t think much of it because I knew what I decided to do was the right thing.”
“How did you end up with the flash drive?”
“All I can think of is I remember one of the women bumping into me and she must’ve slipped it into my pocket.”
“Was there anything on it?”
A nod. “A video.”
“Did you watch it?”
Gina nodded, but her face was wretched with disgust. “I was so sickened by it.”
“Take your time.” Sabrina moved forward, anxious yet
fascinated by what Gina might say next.
“A woman and a man were in it but I couldn’t make them out.”
“What were they doing?”
“They were in some sort of operating room. The female doctor was performing an abortion on a woman—but let me tell you the fetus looked big, almost second trimester big.”
“So the demonstrators gave you a video of a doctor giving an abortion?” Sabrina replied, disappointment clearly showing in her voice. “Isn’t that what they do here?”
Gina shook her head. “No, it wasn’t just that. After she did the abortion, she …”
“Take it slow,” Sabrina said calmly.
She put a hand on her chest, her emotions getting the best of her. “I don’t know how to say it.” Her voice was trembling.
“Just give me the truth.”
“The man took the fetus, cut open the chest and harvested the heart … and then put it in some sort of solution. It was sick.”
Sabrina gasped. “Oh my God!”
“And then it ended.”
“But why? Why harvest the heart?”
“Don’t you get it?” Gina screamed. “Look around. The Center doesn’t have the technology.”
“To do what?”
“To—”
And then without warning, the room went pitch black.
Chapter 55
Sabrina hit the floor, still holding the gun. She was panting heavily, trembling—scared that she had taken her interest in BioHumanity too far and now she was going to pay the ultimate price.
Stay calm. Breathe easy. Make it out of here alive, she thought. She let her eyes adjust to the deep darkness in the hopes a sliver of light would lead her to safety. But it was fruitless—she could barely make out a hand in front of her.
Then an idea hit her: What if she crawled toward one of the walls? She could then follow it in the direction of the door. Deciding it was the only rational idea, she slid delicately across the floor, stopping every few feet to see if she could hear anybody else in the room. After crawling through what seemed like a warehouse of darkness, she finally touched a wall—a wall anchored with cabinets she recognized were close to the door. Making sure the wall stayed within reach, she veered right toward the only exit she knew.