Horrified, she fell on her bed, kicking, screaming, and pounding her mattress with all her strength. A message on Lon’s phone from JD to be at Infinity at 10 a.m. Damn— she forgot about that meeting with JD and Whitaker. She put her head back down on the pillow and decided to sleep a few more minutes to give herself a moment to think.
Minutes later the doorbell rang and she jumped up, sweat pouring down her forehead and chest. Who would it be at this time of the morning? Delivery? Fire? She smelled nothing. Then a voice calling her name.
“Hey Lena, it’s Sam. Are you awake? We need to talk; Whitaker is on the warpath, upset about the accounts and JD says it’s your fault,” he said, pounding on the door.
Lena’s stomach bunched in knots; her head throbbed and her heart raced. She let out a breath and thought for a second. Then she laughed out loud and had a great idea. Wrapping the blanket around her legs and chest exposed, she answered the door. Sam’s jaw dropped when he saw her.
“Whoa! Ohh, excuse me, I thought this was Lena Davis’s apartment. Sorry to bother you,” Sam in shock.
Lon smirked.
“Uhh, it is— who are you? She’s in the shower right now. Kind of early to be calling on her, don’t you think?” said Lon in his best Southern accent.
Sam held up his hand; his eyes were downward, looking away sheepishly.
“My apologies, didn’t want to bother either of you. Will catch her at work. Got to run,” Sam said. He sprinted to his car.
Lon shut the door and peered out the window through the lace curtains. He watched Sam get in his car, gesturing and talking. Lon laughed to himself and realized there might be an advantage to all of this. Sam would leave him alone, he could finish the deal with Whitaker and JD, and then leave town. When he came back from Optimal, Infinity would be in shambles from the bad deal and they would need Lena to clean it all up. A perfect ending to a screwed-up situation. But he had to hurry to clean up for the meeting with Whitaker.
Lon Montana sat in the conference room waiting to meet JD and Whitaker, wearing his new Armani suit and tinted glasses; his boots were polished and hair perfectly coiffed, checking his new expensive Breitling watch, all purchased and delivered from a drone this morning. Earlier he sprayed on Clive Christian, breathing in the manly fragrance and focusing on his challenge to be the perfect Southern gentleman after taking in the GQ and Esquire sites. Popping his last pill just seconds before, he felt confident he could pull this manly act off.
It must be working; already three young women kept offering him more coffee and fruit, and alerting him that JD and Whitaker would be there soon for their meeting. He looked up as an admiring JD entered the room, followed by Whitaker, and two assistants. Such an entourage just to meet him.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Montana. JD briefed me early this morning on your meeting last night. Hope we can get acquainted today and this will be a beginning to a long-lasting relationship,” said Whitaker.
Lon got up to shake his hand, grasping it firmly, almost to the breaking point. He watched Whitaker squirm, then let go.
“In Texas, we believe in strong handshakes to close the deal,” Lon said, and sat down. The others followed suit and the assistants rushed to pour more coffee or water. He declined both.
“Running the numbers, we never realized your portfolio was so diversified and rich in commodities and livestock. We may have to visit and become more acquainted with your assets. Guess I’ll need to buy some cowboy boots and chaps,” said JD.
“Got all my advice from Lyle; the man knows all about the market, been dabbling in it for many years. But I’m ready to invest another chunk of money soon and that’s why I hired your firm. Want to hit the mark this time and make a big killing. And be glad to give you a tour. Put you in a saddle and you’ll feel right at home,” Lon said, his large expressive hands gestured as he spoke.
The group chatted for a while and one of the assistants showed some virtual charts and graphs on the wall monitor. Then Tim snuck by the glass doors and indicated he had a message for JD. She motioned for him to come in.
“Sorry to interrupt JD, but your appointment with Mrs. Thorsten has been cancelled; her daughter called to say that she died in her sleep this morning,” Tim said.
Lon glance at the young man, remembering the evening with Tim when he was Lena. He still felt the strong feelings for him and his face grew hot, remembering how Lena ached and agonized when she didn’t hear from him after their one night together. All those feelings drudged up; Lon was glad he was wearing his shades. He bit his lip and pounded his fists under the table at the mention of Mrs. Thorsten, his best client until JD stole her. More incentive to take down this firm, thought Lon.
“Oh, I’m so glad you told me; what a tragedy! One of my dearest clients has now passed away,” said JD. She glanced at Whitaker.
Lon watched as Tim left the room, noting how the tight white shirt clung to his six-pack. His alternate ego still longed for Tim.
“Sorry to hear about her, but we need to continue our meeting with Mr. Montana. I’m sure he has a very busy schedule and wants to get back home. Right, Lon?” Mr. Whitaker said.
Lon realized Whitaker was addressing him and he perked up.
“Yeah, got to get rolling. Plane to catch; my staff has been bugging me every minute.”
Lon felt his band vibrate again with another urgent message.
He needed to escape town, but dreaded his visit to Optimal. Fear of the unknown hung over him. Would he be able to change back to Lena or was he in stuck in Lon’s body forever?
Mr. Whitaker nodded, unwilling to shake Lon’s hand again. The assistants walked him to the entrance. JD touched his arm warmly.
“Wish we could visit longer, but I will definitely take you up on your offer to visit the ranch,” she said.
Lon nodded and gave her a bright smile. Her gaze lingered on him longer and he finally pulled away, repulsed by it. The very thought of her made his blood boil and his insides regurgitate. He directed his car back to the apartment by the back roads, carefully checking the rearview mirror. Luckily, he had a downstairs apartment, noting the parking lot was empty and no one except a cat was wandering around the grounds.
Once inside, he grabbed his clothes and looked through the bathroom cabinet one more time; no more pills left. Lon sighed and meditated, going through the process and focusing deeply on his sex change. Usually it took no more than twenty minutes if he concentrated hard and he felt some sensations and bodily changes. But after an hour he still remained Lon. Damn, but now no one will mess with me, he thought as he changed into jeans and a t-shirt and seized his gun from the drawer of his night stand.
His watch vibrated, indicating a message from La Fleur. “Still owe $300 from the other night’s dinner, pay up or we will cancel your account.”
“Leaving for a funeral, will take care of bill on Monday. Sorry for any inconvenience,” Lena texted back, making a mental note.
I am ready to deal with anything, Lon said, slipping out of the apartment, checking for signs of Sam, and then driving his car to Optimal headquarters. As he drove away from the city, he noticed a black Turbo FX following him. No matter how he changed lanes or took back roads, the Turbo stuck to him like glue. He looked through the rearview mirror, but all he could see was a black hooded sweatshirt through heavily tinted windows. He’d been so careful and still someone was following him. He had a gun, maybe he should use it. But Optimal indicated they didn’t want anyone tracking them; everything under the radar. With good reason: their secret identity serum would expose everyone. He had to ditch this guy.
Lon accelerated past at 250 miles per hour, shooting him way ahead the black Turbo behind him. Jetting over hills and swerving into opposite lanes, he narrowly missed many oncoming cars. Lon felt queasy yet exhilarated by his rapid escape. The Turbo drifted farther behind. Soon the car seemed out of sight and out of range. In a matter of minutes, he reached the Optimal entrance and signaled the guard. The gate swung open
and Lon whizzed past, outrunning his stalker.
“Welcome, Lena Davis,” the guard said, surprised to see a man. He did a double take, and after Lon got his iris scan, he allowed him through the entrance. Lon checked the rearview mirror and noted the black Turbo parked outside the entrance.
“The car near the gate followed me and you should block its entrance,” Lon said nervously.
He parked his car and entered the building. Upon entering, the Optimal building, no longer visible to the naked eye, vanished from sight with only the boulders and flowers currently present.
Charlie
The private plane landed on the back lot of the Optimal property about a half-mile away from the black glass building. The pilot and stewardess bade their goodbyes and immediately took off after Charlie paid them. No questions asked and strictly confidential, just like Dr. Arno wanted. Money can certainly buy silence, Charlie thought.
He felt like the biggest jerk on the planet. Sydney trusted him and was beginning to care about him and he let her down. The sad part was that he did have feelings for her, and at the same time he was still devoted to his aunt and her cause. Changing one’s identity was a genius idea and he had to give her credit for that. But tricking Sydney into escaping and then taking her here was betrayal. Charlie couldn’t blame her for not speaking to him.
“Hop on,” he said to Sydney as he jumped on a small motorcycle. Sydney stuck her nose in the air and totally ignored him. Still in her long evening gown and three-inch heels, she walked past him. He knew she wouldn’t get too far in that outfit.
“No thanks, I’ll walk, maybe run away from here,” she said. She slipped off her stilettos and made a dash for the towering iron fence.
Charlie sat there for a moment, watching her take off down the runway. A glass wall erected immediately, cutting her escape short.
“Sydney, wait, please let me explain. I can help you, it’s not what it seems,” he said, running his fingers through his hair nervously.
Sydney hit the glass wall with her fist, then fell to the ground in pain. She started to cry and mumbled, “What am I going to do now?”
“It’s going to be okay. Everyone in your group has been called back to be evaluated. It’s not just you. All we want to do is help you maintain your new life. Isn’t that what you want?”
He drove his motorcycle next to her.
She started to cry.
“I thought I could trust you. The casino took advantage of me and I’ve got to get my money and sanity back. I just don’t know anything anymore,” she said, her head in her hands.
Charlie lifted her on the bike and placed her in front of him and whispered in her ear. “I care for you and want to help you. Dr. Arno is aware of your bad situation and told me to take you away from it. Just listen to what she has to say, please!”
The lab monitors revealed each guest relaxing in a plush pristine room with a king-sized bed, couch, shower and spa, stocked refrigerator with a poolside view. All four were accounted for and were waiting. Maggie comforted a still nervous Jaz as they sat quietly drinking glasses of the sparkling green liquid. Lon lay on his bed, checking his messages on his phone, a tall glass of green magic on his nightstand. Sydney appeared subdued, her eyes closed and submerged in a tiny spa filled with bubbles, a glass of green liquid in her hand. Dr. Arno, Dr. Neilson, and Charlie gathered around the monitors.
“It could have been a botched-up mess, but we got them back. Now that they have a taste of success, it’s time for payback. We’ve given them a new life and I’m sure they’ll want to maintain it. With that caveat, there comes a price. Have them sign a contract for a percentage of their profits earned and we will provide more serum and pills. Otherwise we cut them off,” said Dr. Arno.
“Wait a minute… they have been our best specimens yet. Especially those two hotties in Rooms 10 and 11. We don’t want to offend them and we’ve already made some of them nervous. First, let’s test them, put them through some more scenarios. Besides, I thought you had a firm contract with the government and recruited some marines for the Bionic Series. We’re going to get to make money by attracting other organizations, not from individuals. Bad call in my opinion,” said Dr. Neilson, examining Maggie and Jaz’s monitors closely, his mouth salivating.
Dr. Arno frowned and her violet eyes turned a deep purple. She turned to Charlie who fidgeted in his chair.
“We never seem to agree on anything and I see your point. Yes, we have a tentative agreement, based on the status with our new client, General Burke, who will view a secret session tomorrow of our recruits and their results. But if that doesn’t go through—I don’t know what we’ll do. We’re so very close to signing a multi-million-dollar contract, just as our investor dollars are soon to run out. It’s a good thing that I’ve already interviewed some young, fit Marines for the Bionics program.
“These four need to realize what we have given them and should be extremely grateful. We need their cooperation. After all, they were losers when we recruited them. Speaking of losers— what about Randall? We’ve got to catch him and that pathetic Samantha— how did she die?”
Charlie adjusted his glasses, hoping they would hide his puffy, red-rimmed eyes. He stayed up until 2 a.m. thinking about Sydney, having settled her down once she entered her room. It took several hours to calm and convince her that staying was the right thing to do. He wondered how he could make it up to her, and decided that after the evaluation he would take Sydney away to some tropical island. But he needed to focus and his aunt was asking him some hard questions.
“Uhh, just contacted Johnson and he’s on it, but hasn’t found Randall yet. I’m sure he’s close to capturing him. As for poor Samantha, she died from wounds sustained after a car hit her. Very tragic accident-- Johnson dealt with the authorities and the driver. But I’m worried about the car following Lena, or now Lon. He mentioned that a guy was stalking him yesterday, but the guards used the invisibility switch and the guy took off. Probably wondered what he saw from the street,” said Charlie.
Dr. Arno’s voice pitched an octave higher: “As if it isn’t enough to worry about Randall, now a stalker! Nobody must know about Optimal and what we do here until the deal with General Burke goes through. Did the guards track the vehicle? What exactly is being done?”
Dr. Neilson turned away from the monitors with a smirk on his face.
“Let’s get down to business and quit fighting. We can’t worry about things that are out of our control. Now can we get these specimens in the lab and ready for testing. If you want them to be ready for General Burke’s approval, we must do some prep work first. It’s my serum that’s on the line. Can you round them up, Charlie?”
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome back to Optimal. From our survey, we have found that you have experienced much success and happiness from our identity serum. We thank you for your participation and I will let Dr. Neilson explain the testing,” said Dr. Arno.
Charlie noticed the group’s somber mood and wondered if something was brewing. Now just 8 p.m., he realized everyone must be hungry and anxious to get the meeting over with. They gathered around a small round table in the conference room in their white lab coats and pants. Everyone sat quietly, their eyes glazed over and their hands placed in their laps like good children. All eyes were riveted on Dr. Neilson.
“No need to worry— I will be conducting some biological, psychological, and virtual or AR testing to see how you encounter new life scenarios, based on your unique chemistry and DNA. Upon completion, I will provide you with added serum and pills to maintain your new identity. So far, I’m extremely happy with what I have created… I mean who you’ve become,” Dr. Neilson said.
Charlie brought in their meal of imported fish, caviar, and some baguettes, along with a tiny bag of Godiva Chocolate, perfume, or cologne, some skincare products, and a Casino gift card. He noted that Sydney seemed especially subdued. Must be the green liquid serum, or maybe she’s still mad at me, thought Charlie.
>
“Charlie will assist you with any of your personal needs. We want to make sure that you are comfortable and relaxed. Enjoy your meal and time together. We will start at 7 a.m. sharp tomorrow in the lab,” said Dr. Arno.
The group ate in an eerie silence, their mouths moving in unison and their eyes glued to their plates, except for Lon. No one seemed surprised or shocked by each other’s new appearance, not even Lena’s change to Lon.
“Once this testing is done, will we get our pills and be allowed to take off? I have some urgent business to take care of,” said Lon, directing his question to Dr. Neilson.
Startled at Lena’s transformation, Dr. Neilson said, “Of, of course, soon after the testing. By the way, your change is amazing! We’ll provide you with all the pills you need.”
Dr. Arno interrupted, “There will be some details to go over first and more confidentiality statements to sign. So, get a good night’s sleep.”
When the meal ended, Charlie escorted each of them to their sequential rooms. He waited to drop off Sydney last.
“Good night, Sydney. Have sweet dreams,” he said as he moved to kiss her. She turned away and closed the door behind her. Charlie sighed and headed for the basement; he knew it was going to be a sleepless night.
Maggie
Maggie waited for about twenty minutes and knocked on the adjoining door.
“Are you awake?” asked Maggie.
Jaz opened the door and hugged Maggie, her eyes dripping with tears.
“I’m happy to see you, couldn’t eat a bite of that food. Afraid they put something in it. I still feel drugged from that green drink.”
“I hope Mark got my message. I just want to get out of here. Can’t believe how they just pretended that our kidnapping was okay. And did you see how Dr. Neilson looked at me? Ugh!”
“He gives me the creeps. Did we have a guy in our group? Who’s Lon? Not a bad-looking guy.”
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