Savage Heart

by M. G Scott

  As she made her way, she thought about what Gina had admitted. BioHumanity was harvesting hearts from fetuses. But she was confused. Weren’t they growing and incubating hearts from the placenta cells? Why would they need to harvest fetal hearts? She sighed silently. If they hadn’t been interrupted, Gina would’ve told her.

  Before she could think it through further, she heard movement. Was it coming from behind her? She wasn’t sure. There it was again. Scraping sounds, as if someone was sliding plastic along the floor, or maybe the wall. Where was it coming from? It grew louder. A second sound joined the first—almost in rhythm. After a few seconds, it stopped. Everything grew quiet—eerily quiet.

  Maybe ten steps ahead, Sabrina could make out the light underneath the door.

  She was almost there.

  Suddenly, an arm swung around her neck and whipped her backward, onto her feet. The gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the tile.

  “Gotcha,” a male breathed in her ear. And then he said to someone else, “Secured. She’s not going anywhere.”

  “Excellent,” another voice said. “Make sure you have her tight. She has a knack for escaping death.”

  “Jonas … get the lights,” a third voice said.

  “Of course.”

  Rows of ceiling lamps hummed to life but still seemed too dim to make a difference. The men switched on their flashlights, spraying the room with more light. Sabrina looked around her. Other than the man holding her, there was one patrolling the door. Both seemed unarmed but were wearing high-tech goggles. Night vision, she thought. On the other side of the room was Gina—she was going from incubator to incubator, ignoring the commotion around her.

  There was nowhere to go, or run. She felt nauseous at the thought she was not long for this world.

  A man of medium build stepped from behind her. He was smartly dressed head to toe in black, and seemed to be of mixed Asian heritage. The only thing that seemed a bit out of place was his hair. Jet black locks were pulled back, curling at the shoulders. It gave him a certain boyish look. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said in a slight American southwest twang. “I am Dr. Steven Vua, CEO of BioHumanity.”

  Sabrina looked him up and down, and then did something she had never done before in her life. She spat on squarely on his face. “Don’t you dare take another step toward me,” she threatened.

  He wiped the saliva from his eyes and cheeks, eyed the spit on his palm, and then laughed. The others joined in before he cut them off, and then he slammed the same palm into the side of her face, spinning her around in her captor’s arms. “Oh!” she muttered, taken by surprise. A burning sensation rushed across her face like somebody had pressed a lit match against it.

  “Now … let’s try this again,” Vua hissed at her. He stuck his hand out but she refused to grab it. “Fine, bitch. We’ll do this my way.”

  “By murdering innocent people?”

  He stared at her, his face popping with anger. “They were the ones intruding on my plan. Just like you are now.”

  “Then why didn’t you have your assassin take care of me when you had the chance … like back at the funeral?”

  “You’re right,” he admitted. “I should have but I underestimated your burning desire.”

  “So you bumped me off the road, hoping that would do it?”

  “Something like that,” he said. “Only a stubborn bitch would’ve ignored that warning.”

  She ignored the last comment. “You murdered Eric Sanchez.”

  “You have it wrong.”

  “Correction … your assassin did,” Sabrina continued. “He told me right before I took care of him.”

  “I’ve learned you are quite capable of taking care of yourself,” Vua replied, not denying her accusation.

  “I had to. I learned long ago nobody else would give a damn.”

  “I like your attitude. You would’ve made a fine associate, and made a lot of money I might add.”

  “Maybe. But I prefer to live my life on the side of good.”

  He gritted his teeth and stared at her. “Are you calling me evil?”

  “I’d prefer to call you a savage, but I’m too polite.”

  “You know nothing of me,” he replied coarsely.

  “No? Then why did you bribe the coroner?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I found it ironic the coroner didn’t include in her report that Sanchez had Atropine in his body.”

  “Ah.” A small smile worked across his lips. “You have done your homework.”

  “He was just a researcher, helping you with … with this repulsive house of cards.”

  Vua shook his head. “He wasn’t just any researcher. He was BioHumanity’s Chief Researcher and had access to everything we were doing. And he just wasn’t … shall we say … on the same page as us.”

  “So you had your so-called associate dispose of him.” Sabrina said.

  “We gave him plenty of warning but he ignored it.”

  “And his wife?”

  “That was unfortunate, but necessary … consider it collateral damage. Her love for finding the truth ultimately killed her.”

  “By burning her house down while she’s inside? That is barbaric.”

  Vua waved her off. “How my associates dispose of someone is their own business.” He stepped within inches of her, close enough she could feel his breathing. “The ironic thing is he didn’t love her as much as his mistress.”

  “His mistress?” She tried turning away but her captor held her head tight. “What are you talking about?”

  Vua laughed. “Oh, there is something you don’t know. But I bet you know who it is.”

  She was lost. “Who?”

  “Mona Frederick.”

  “That’s impossible. They were just friends … besides, I met Carla. They were deeply in love.”

  “Yes, well, maybe they were at one time. But the fact is, that’s how Mona ended up with Sanchez’s journal. And I needed it back.”

  “Why didn’t you just steal it from his office?”

  “Because it disappeared a week before he died. We confronted him but he refused to acknowledge its existence even though the security cameras were right there. But then we got lucky.”

  “How?”

  “We monitored Mona’s conversation with you in our atrium. At that moment I was ecstatic you didn’t decide to leave town. After all, you were doing all the dirty laundry for us.”

  Now she understood. “I was your bait.”

  “Exactly.” Vua took a leather glove from his pocket and slid it on his right hand. “We had to keep you alive until we knew what happened to the journal.”

  Sabrina gasped. “And you had Mona murdered because she probably refused to tell you where it was.”

  “A brave girl. She never told. But not a very smart one.” He wrapped the black leather strap around his wrist and snapped it in place. “Which brings us to you, my brave New Yorker.” He pointed a gloved finger at her. “Even through all that, I gave you one last warning to wash your hands of everything, and you still refused.”

  “How do you mean—”

  “The pictures—the ones of your dead sister lying in your New York apartment.”

  “You bastard!” she screamed as she thrashed around, trying to escape the grip her captor had on her. “Don’t dare bring my sister into this.” Her captor tightened his hold, almost choking her.

  “Testy. Testy,” Vua replied softly. “But now it’s your turn.”

  “What”—she struggled to get the words out—“what are you going to do to me?”

  “Ah, always the inquisitive reporter,” Vua replied calmly. “You’ll just have to wait and see.” He then smacked her hard across the cheek with the gloved hand.

  She slumped in her captor’s arms, tears flowing from her eyes it hurt so much.

  “Have you given up already?” Vua asked without remorse.

  Sabrina tried to reach the tears but she only
found the drops on her cheek. She gritted her teeth. No matter what he did to her she needed to know the truth. “But once you had the journal, I was—”

  “Disposable? Yes.”

  “Then why didn’t you finish me off?”

  “You should thank two dead men for that—even if they didn’t plan on it.”

  “Two?”

  “Gregory Archer … and Scott Brieman.”

  Her heart jumped. Did he know something she didn’t? “You’re wrong,” she spat at him. “Scott’s going to be fine.” She glanced over at Gina, who seemed taken aback by the mention of her ex-boyfriend.

  “Believe what you want.”

  “Is what you’re doing worth killing innocent people?” She looked around the room. “For this?”

  Vua turned toward Gina, who was near the back of the room, and gestured toward her. “She knows. It was the reason she felt … compelled to join.”

  “You mean the harvesting?”

  Vua smirked. “Did you learn that from Gina?”

  “She just helped me understand the connection. But I’m not there yet … we were, after all, rudely interrupted.” C’mon, she thought, answer the damn question.

  He put his hand on a nearby capsule. “These incubators are saving people’s lives. The problem is … there are people who just don’t seem to see it that way.”

  “Like how?”

  “Regenerative transplants. That’s how. They are giving terminally ill patients a second chance they never thought they had.” He eyed her curiously. “Everybody deserves a second chance, don’t you think?”

  She thought back to her conversation with Gregory. “Maybe. But my intuition says you don’t give a damn about the patients. You just want the money … and when people are desperate, they’ll give you everything.”

  Vua laughed but she could tell she struck a chord. “Look around. Do you think this should be a handout?”

  “So you decide who lives based on how much money they have? Who gave you that right?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not my problem if someone can’t afford it. Like I said, this isn’t a charity.”

  He wasn’t giving her anything. “Why are you doing it here? Why not in the States?”

  “Because the U.S. government refuses to acknowledge the value of a regenerated heart.”

  “Why? I would think they’d love the innovation—MSC’s are the one of the richest forms of stems cells you can work with.”

  Vua clapped. “Bravo, Ms. Katz. You have done your homework. And I agree: MSCs are a critical part of our process, but we needed … a boost. That’s why we had our best research scientist on it—we just couldn’t get the stem cells to grow in a reasonable time. But when we injected the cells into a catalyst, everything came together—it was like growing a Chia Pet.”

  Sabrina pondered what he was telling her: They needed a catalyst.

  Oh my God, she thought. He didn’t give a damn about the donors or the patients. He just wanted the fetal hearts so he could feed his empire and make him filthy rich … all by deceiving pregnant women into believing what they were doing was for the good of science. The gravity of it made her want to vomit. “How many people are in on this?”

  “All across the U.S. I have a network of associates working in clinics … paid excellent commissions by the way … who are providing me the donor supply I need to grow my business.”

  She shook her head. “You’re a savage excuse for a human being … you son of a bitch.”

  Vua chuckled, as if her words didn’t matter. “No, Ms. Katz. You have it all wrong. At the heart of it, I’m just an entrepreneur supplying a market demand.”

  “And not caring a damn how many lives you destroy along the way.”

  Vua shook his head. “I think if I had enough time, you’d understand. You see, you and I have something in common.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible,” she snapped back.

  “Oh, it is … we’ve both experienced the unthinkable.”

  “Such as?”

  “We both lost someone very dear to us: Siblings. It hurts, doesn’t it?”

  She was not going to let his stinging words get to her. “Did you murder your brother too?” she asked sadistically.

  “No, you bitch,” Vua replied rudely. “Genetics killed him. He had a heart condition—similar to Miss Archer—that required a heart transplant. Unfortunately, he just didn’t get it in time. But unlike your sister, something good came of it.”

  “You bastard,” Sabrina hissed.

  “Sometimes, times of pain can bring out the best in someone. And it was in that moment”—he raised his hands and looked up—“I saw the future.”

  Sabrina opened her mouth, but then stopped. Something made her ponder what he said: We both lost siblings and it hurts.

  He eyed her. “You seem perplexed, Ms. Katz.”

  Sabrina looked at him as the thought washed away. “Just thinking about the day you’re arrested … once they find me,” she said.

  He reached out with his right hand and the guard stepped forward, placing a short nylon rope in it. “Don’t worry, Ms. Katz. I’ll make sure you’re dumped well beneath the bay. Nobody will find you there—other than the deep feeders, of course.”

  “You seem very good at getting rid of collateral damage,” she blurted. Her sarcastic comments weren’t helping but she just didn’t give a damn.

  He snapped the rope in front of her. “Goodbye, Ms. Katz.”

  Eyeing the rope and hearing the finality of his words stung her, melting the courage and confidence she accumulated the past twenty-four hours. “Don’t do it,” she whispered, looking him straight in the eye. She was barely holding her composure.

  He focused on her but the gaze seemed to pass through her as he started the chore of wrapping the rope around her neck. Within a few seconds, it tightened hard, making it impossible to breathe. She felt her captor loosen his grip but the lack of oxygen zapped her strength. Darkness swirled around wherever she focused—like a deep morning fog it seemed. Off in the distance—a hazy gray distance—she could’ve sworn she heard someone yell, “No!” A gunshot followed. And maybe another. Or was she hallucinating?

  But it didn’t matter.

  Not anymore.

  Chapter 56

  With her face planted against the cold floor, Sabrina opened her eyes and began following the speckled blue and black pattern in the tile. Realizing she was still in the lab, she put her palms on the floor and tried lifting her head. A hand grabbed her arm and helped her the rest of the way up. “C’mon!” a woman’s voice said.

  Sabrina coughed hard, gasping for air as her neck throbbed with pain. She was dazed, confused—but didn’t care who was helping her. She glanced at the woman, surprised whom it was. “Gina,” she muttered. “Where are you taking me?” Her voice was hoarse, barely recognizable, but Gina seemed to understand.

  “We need to get you back to the States before you get killed.” She pulled Sabrina toward the doorway. “This way.”

  As Sabrina stumbled after her she glanced back and saw Vua and a guard lying still in pools of blood. “Oh my God! Are they dead?”

  Gina grabbed Sabrina’s hand and led her down the hall. “I don’t know. I haven’t checked their pulse but Vua was shot right where he deserved it—in the heart—so I doubt it.”

  “And the third?”

  “He escaped … probably to get help. That’s why we’ve got to get out of here.”

  “How’d you do it?”

  “Your gun. It slid by my feet when they grabbed you.”

  “But aren’t you … one of them?”

  “Not a chance. But that’s what I wanted them … and you … to think. It had to be that way otherwise they wouldn’t be comfortable around me.”

  “What do you mean ‘think’?”

  “Think like them. They want everybody here to believe in their program.”

  “And if you refuse?”

  “For the ones they want, they app
ly something called coercive persuasion to make sure they get the right behavior out of those that resist.”

  Sabrina gasped. “Brainwashing.”

  “Yep. And for the ones they don’t want … I think you know what happens to them.”

  They reached a solid gray door with a sign above it that read Salida. Gina pushed it open, causing an alarm to sound. “I was afraid of that,” she said. They hurried down the midnight black steel stairs. “We’ve got at least a few minutes’ advantage but it’s going to take some time getting to the ground floor.” They hit the sixth floor landing and turned to conquer another set of stairs. By now Sabrina was under her own power, but barely able to stay with Gina’s urgent pace.

  “How’d they brainwash you?” Sabrina asked.

  “They had me in a room for weeks … nothing but white walls … trying to break me through sleep deprivation.” A pause. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.” Sabrina detected dread in her voice. “But then I had an idea: Make them think you’ve joined them. Then turn on them when the time is right.”

  “Like now?”

  “Couldn't think of a better time.”

  They rounded the third floor landing. Sabrina stopped, trying to catch a breath but Gina grabbed her. “C’mon, we’re almost there.”

  When they hit the ground floor they could hear voices above. Gina pointed to her right. “There … that’s the door to the outside.” Sabrina pushed open the gray-painted exit and burst into the blinding sunlight.

  “Now what?” Sabrina asked, covering her eyes.

  “We need to disappear into a crowd.” Gina looked around. “By the harbor.”

  “But if Vua’s dead, does it matter?”

  “He’s the leader but BioHumanity is a living, breathing enterprise and they’ll do anything to keep us quiet.”

  They rounded the corner of the building and sprinted across the lawn toward the harbor. Sabrina’s heart jumped as her eyes locked on a familiar figure standing across the street. “Detective Urbina!”