Morvicti Blood (A Morvicti Novel Book 1)

by Lee Swift

  Angelique leaned over. “Hello, Kyle.”

  The man peered in. “Dr. McCord, you’re arriving a little late.”

  “I just need to talk with Dr. Vickers. It will only take a minute.”

  The guard smiled and then turned his attention to Austin. “Do I know you?”

  “I doubt it. I just got to town this morning.”

  The man frowned. “You look so familiar.”

  “He’s a researcher I’m working with,” Angelique said quickly. “Dr. Vickers wants to meet him.”

  “Certainly. You may go through, but the gates will be locked at six. Be sure to be out by then.”

  “We’ll hurry. Thanks, Kyle.”

  “My pleasure, Dr. McCord.”

  Austin drove into the forecourt and parked the car. He and Angelique got out, running for the main entrance. Inside, they came into the Great Court’s large enclosed space, with a spectacular glass roof above. In the center stood the cylindrical world-famous Reading Room.

  He spotted a sign that caught his attention.

  “Headless Mummies of Egypt.”

  He followed Angelique to a set of stairs. They went up a couple of floors to the museum’s offices.

  “She might have already left for the day,” he said.

  “Don’t say that. I need to find Michael.” The panic in his sister’s voice troubled him.

  Still, she was holding up better than most would. Just as tough as she always was.

  They came to a door, but before they could knock it opened.

  An attractive woman wearing a white top, green slacks, and black stilettos stood in the doorway. “Angelique, what are you doing here?”

  “Two things. May I borrow your mobile phone? I need to call my husband.”

  “Certainly.” The woman pulled it out of her purse. “And who is this?”

  “My brother.” Angelique dialed Michael’s number.

  “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “Long story, Kelsi. Michael, my God. It’s you. Are you okay?”

  Austin extended his hand to Kelsi. “I’m Austin.”

  The woman’s face flushed slightly. “And you already know my name.”

  Angelique looked relieved. “Yes, I’m fine. So is Austin. There was an explosion, but Austin got us out.”

  Kelsi seemed shocked. “An explosion?”

  “Like my sister said. It’s a long story.”

  “Honey, we are getting Dr. Wilson’s address from Kelsi and plan on meeting you at his home.”

  “Dr. Wilson?” Kelsi tilted her head to the side slightly. “Dr. Thomas Wilson?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Why?”

  Angelique stepped back, whispering softly into her phone. “I love you, too. I’m just a little shaken.”

  “Dr. Wilson was here just past noon today,” Kelsi answered him.

  “What for?”

  “He wanted to get some tissue samples from my mummy exhibit.”

  “The Headless Mummies of Egypt is your exhibit?”

  She nodded. “I’m confused. That explosion had something to do with Dr. Wilson?”

  “We just don’t know yet.”

  Was there a correlation between what happened to Walt Turner on Murphy Street and Kelsi’s mummies? Turner had lost his head this morning. The mummies’ years earlier. It didn’t make any sense they would be connected but his gut told him they were.

  Angelique turned to him. “Michael received word about the explosion before he arrived at Dr. Wilson’s place, so he turned around to try to find me. He wants to talk to you.”

  She handed him the phone.

  “It’s me, buddy.”

  “We have a problem,” Remington said.

  Angelique stepped into Kelsi’s office with her, asking for Dr. Wilson’s address, allowing him some privacy.

  “What kind of problem?”

  “The police have issued an all-ports warning on you. Just learned about it moments ago, although it has been active for a few hours already. You’re their lead suspect in these Ripper murders.”

  That’s why the guard thought he recognized me. “That’ll make moving around London more difficult. Plus, Angelique and I stole a car to escape from the garage attached to your facility on Coach and Horses.”

  “Then it should not be a problem since it’s either one of the gunman’s cars or an agency car. If it is one of ours I’ll make sure it’s not reported stolen. If one of theirs, I’m sure they won’t be reaching out to the authorities.”

  “Are you back at the safe house?”

  “I am. Quite the mess you left me, Austin.”

  “What was the body count you found?”

  “Seven of my best men are dead.” The anger and regret in Michael’s voice came through loud and clear.

  “What about the bad guys?”

  “There were no bad guys found.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. I made Swiss cheese out of at least six of them, maybe more.”

  “Their buddies might have gotten them out.”

  “I don’t think so. They were trained assassins, no doubt about it. Why take the time to remove bodies? They wouldn’t have had any identification on them.”

  “A total cluster fuck. Austin, it’s not safe for either of you to come back here. We need to figure out a place to meet.”

  Angelique stepped out of Kelsi’s office. “Wilson’s house is just one block from the museum.”

  “Michael, head back to Dr. Wilson’s home.” Austin wanted his buddy by his side and he knew Angelique wanted her husband. “We’ll meet you there.”

  “I just got a tip on The Ripper case. The informant’s house is on the way to Dr. Wilson’s, so I’ll check it out to see if Poole is there.”

  “Be careful. We don’t know what he is capable of. Poole might be The Ripper.”

  “Poole is leading the investigation, so we might get lucky that he will be onsite. Once I can get my hands on the commissioner I will make sure he answers our questions.”

  “I would like to be part of that interrogation.”

  “Might be difficult, since at the moment you are the prime suspect the Met is looking for, but I’ll see what I can work out. Keep your head down, Austin.”

  “Don’t be too long, Remington. Your wife needs you.”

  “If I get held up, I’ll send Harris and a couple other officers to Wilson’s house. They can bring you both to me.” With his words softening, Remington added, “Thanks for making sure Angelique got out safe.”

  “I’m not about to lose my sister again. I will continue to keep her safe, Professor.”

  “You better, McCord, because she’s the love of my life.”

  1973

  Guatemala

  CHAPTER 39

  Dr. Thomas Wilson stood in a tent ten kilometers from the Tecuamburro stratovolcano. He stared at the results of the second test. Same outcome. The cells from the dead infant’s tissue sample were alive, actually reproducing.

  Elated, he vibrated from head to toe.

  His friend and colleague, Dr. Simon Minkel, had returned to the site he’d unearthed a year earlier, inviting him to join the next expedition.

  Minkel had organized the second archeological dig, which was quite a feat, given the current political conditions in Guatemala.

  He and Minkel had been friends since their first year of university. But their bond was not the only reason he had accepted Minkel’s invitation. He had trekked to South America because of the two mummies who were over 1,400 years old.

  The mother’s head had been sacrificially removed. The body of the infant discovered in another chamber was whole. Minkel surmised that based on what his team had found, the female had hid her child just prior to her assailants’ arrival. Had the woman believed someone would find the infant? Had she thought she would survive the attack to whisk her child to safety later? Questions that would likely never be answered.

  But the answers to the questions that continued to keep him a
wake at night were on several slides by his microscope.

  Having cut his finger on a pair of scissors, a drop of his blood had contaminated the tissue sample of the baby mummy he was examining. He had almost tossed it aside but decided to take a look at it through the microscope first. What he saw shocked him. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes, unsure of what he had truly witnessed.

  One more look at the cells and his heart started racing. He took another tissue sample of the infant, pricked his finger so a drop of blood would fall on the slide. He then put the combination of the dead baby’s cells and his living cells under the microscope.

  The 1,400-year-old cells began to reanimate.

  He could not contain his excitement, realizing the magnitude of his discovery. He ran the same experiment with the mother’s tissue—but nothing happened. Her cells did not become active. He tried again. Same result. Nothing. He placed the original slide with the baby mummy’s tissue back under the microscope. Not only were the cells active, but they had also begun reproducing.

  He had been stumbling in the dark for so long, hoping to find that spark that would illuminate what his life’s mission was to be. Now he knew.

  What to call my hypothesis? Reanimation cycles? Resurrection systems? Hyper-hibernation? There was plenty of time to find an appropriate name.

  A sound of a gunshot rang out nearby, startling him.

  A scream. More shots.

  Oh God, what is happening?

  He ran out the back of his tent.

  Minkel was standing in the open area in the center with his hands raised. Three soldiers were pointing guns at him.

  Remaining low and out of sight, he stared in disbelief.

  “Por favor, señor. Tengo…uh…la documentación,” Minkel pleaded in broken Spanish.

  “In English, Professor,” the one with the thick mustache commanded. “What is your name?”

  “Dr. Simon Minkel.” His friend’s eyes were wide and his body was shaking.

  “A pleasure to meet you. I am Lieutenant Gonzales.”

  “We are unarmed, sir,” Minkel informed. “Please, lower your weapons so I can clear up this misunderstanding.”

  With his heart thudding in his chest, Wilson saw some of the soldiers going tent to tent. The graduate students were being marched out, with guns to their backs, and placed in a line behind Minkel.

  They will come to my tent next.

  With his gun still aimed at Minkel’s chest, Gonzales asked, “What are you and your people doing here?”

  Wilson held his breath and stepped quietly away from his tent, into the darkness of the tree line.

  “This is an academic pursuit, sir. I have the paperwork in my tent. It is signed by Colonel Carlos Manuel Arana Osorio himself. We have the right to be here. This is not a military threat, I swear.”

  “Where are the mummies?”

  Gonzales knows about them. He must know we are only scientists then. What is really going on here?

  From his hiding place, Wilson counted two-dozen soldiers with machine guns pointed at Minkel and the rest of the team.

  “The mother mummy is over there,” one of the female students said, pointing to the main site. “The baby is in that tent on the left. We moved him there two days ago. Please, we’ll do anything you ask, answer any questions you have. Just don’t hurt us.”

  Gonzales smiled and then gave some orders to his men.

  One of the soldiers that had gone into his tent said something to Gonzales, but Wilson was too far away to hear him, and even if he could his Spanish was too limited to be of any use.

  A man in a truck arrived. When he stepped out, Wilson was shocked to see he was wearing a black mask and carrying an axe.

  The lieutenant walked over to the newest arrival.

  “What is the situation?” the masked man asked in perfect English with a tinge of a Slavic accent.

  “We have the mummies. One of the two professors is missing, but my men will find him. The rest are all accounted for.”

  “Which one of these is the professor who stayed behind?”

  “Dr. Minkel is over here.” Gonzales led the man to him.

  The masked man placed his hand on Minkel’s shoulder. “Sir, where is Dr. Thomas Wilson?”

  How does he know my name? Minkel’s paperwork.

  The masked man knew who they were and what they were doing here. Why the guns?

  “He was in his tent earlier,” Minkel said nervously. “I suppose he might have gone for a walk to enjoy his pipe. I am sure he will be back any moment.”

  “Which direction do you think he went?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The tallest of the students pointed Wilson’s way. “I’ve seen Dr. Wilson head out down that path before.”

  Gonzales yelled something to a couple of his men. The duo ran straight in Wilson’s direction.

  He flattened himself to the ground and held his breath. The soldiers stepped several feet from him, but thankfully continued on down the trail.

  “According to my records, this is your entire team, not counting Dr. Wilson,” Black Mask said. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Minkel answered, his hands still held high above his head.

  Should I show myself? Would that diffuse the situation?

  The soldiers stacked the research papers, equipment, and even personal items in a pile in front of Minkel. Two others brought out the mummies and placed them on the ground next to the masked man.

  “You are disturbing the site, sir,” Minkel lowered his hands to his sides. His friend had found some courage inside him. Minkel’s passion for the work had always impressed Wilson. Until now. It was foolish to push these men. “The damage you and your soldiers are doing cannot be repaired. This is history you are tampering with.”

  “My apologies.” The masked man swung the axe and chopped off the head of the baby mummy. “Is that better?” he asked, laughing.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Minkel asked, clearly stunned and angry.

  He heard the soldiers that had passed him moments ago returning. Once again, he held his breath; once again they did not see him.

  The two of them reported back to Gonzales, who was visibly upset that he hadn’t been found. “No sign of the other professor,” he told the masked man.

  “That is disappointing. I will ask you again, Dr. Minkel. Where is Dr. Wilson?”

  “I do not know. Honestly.”

  He prepared to stand and wave at the masked man, pushing down the paralyzing fear. Before he could get to his feet, Black Mask swung his axe and beheaded Minkel.

  The students screamed, drowning out his gasps at the horror they had witnessed.

  “Now does anyone want to tell me where Dr. Wilson is? No? Too bad.” The masked man motioned to the lieutenant. “Now, Gonzales.”

  The lieutenant yelled, “Fuego.”

  The soldiers fired their weapons. The men and women Wilson had been working with the past three weeks fell to the ground, their bodies riddled with bullets.

  Overtaken by panic and a primal instinct to survive, he slinked away. Once he had gotten a considerable amount of distance between him and the soldiers, remaining low to the ground, he cautiously turned around to make sure he had not been spotted.

  The site was ablaze. The tents, the pile Gonzales’ men had created from their equipment and paperwork—and the bodies. Everything. Including his slides with the reanimated cells of the baby mummy.

  Unsure he would survive the night, Wilson ran as fast as humanly possible into the darkness.

  CHAPTER 40

  5:22 PM – Present Day

  Dr. Thomas Wilson glared at the receptionist of the executive wing of the International Business Council Bank, a young woman with short, dark hair. “Miss Martin, I told you already I will not leave until I see Mr. Walt Turner.”

  His patience had vanished the moment the cameras had come on and Andrea White had begun grilling him. That was hours ago.

  He had come
directly from the BBC studios to this location. It had taken forty-five minutes to convince the staff on the lower floors to allow him access to this level. Now he had been trying, without success, to get this young woman to contact Walt Turner, the man who was in charge of the donors of Dr. Vickers’ mummy exhibit.

  “Sir, as I told you before, I have not heard from Mr. Turner all day. This office closes at half past five. I’m sure he’s not coming in.” She’d been very kind to him since his arrival hours ago, offering him coffee while he waited.

  “Who is his supervisor?”

  “He reports to the CEO, his brother.”

  “Let me talk to him then.”

  “He isn’t here either. I’m so sorry. I can take your name and number and have one of them ring you.”

  She grabbed a piece of paper and he noticed the palm of her hand was a pale violet. Very similar to Gita’s. Strange for a young woman of her age to have poor circulation.

  He gave her his contact information, which she jotted down. “Do you have their personal numbers, Miss Martin? This is of the upmost importance, I can assure you.”

  “Dr. Wilson, I’m not at liberty to give those out.”

  He smiled, trying to appear as sweet and harmless as possible. “But you do know their personal numbers, correct?”

  She returned the smile. “Yes, of course.”

  “Would you ring them for me and tell them how urgent this is? Please. My life’s work is at stake.”

  “It’s quite unusual, but I will try. You seem like such a nice gentleman. But after this you must leave.”

  “I promise.”

  She brought the receiver to her ear and dialed a number. “Voicemail.”

  He cursed under his breath.

  “I’ll leave a message. Mr. Turner, this is Sophia. I have an urgent request for you from a Dr. Wilson. He asks that you call him as soon as possible.” She read his number off the paper into her phone. “Thank you.”

  She returned the receiver to the cradle. “Let me try our CEO.”

  “I really appreciate this, Miss Martin. You’ll never know how much.”

  “I’m so sorry, but again, voicemail.” She left a similar message for the other Mr. Turner. “Mr. Oliver Turner was scheduled to arrive in London this afternoon. Let me check to see if his plane landed as planned.”