I picked up the IV bags, dropping them into a metal burn barrel I kept under the steel counter. I threw some of my notes specifically on Kit's biology on top of the IV bags, wanting to destroy any and all information that could be used against Kit.
I bent down, adjusting the vent at the bottom of the barrel to funnel directly outside and lit a match. Flicking the match in, I watched its flame kiss the invisible waves of gas rising from the bottom. The notebook pages curled under the heat and turned black. I watched for a few more seconds before sliding the lid on and letting it burn away all of my work from the last couple of days.
The IV bag still in Kit's room would be the only surviving piece of work. I would save it and hide it away in case I needed it again. Deep down I feared I would.
I returned to cleaning up the rest of the desk, removing all signs I had been consumed by my work and my need to save Kit. I sat down slowly in the chair, sliding Bourne’s notebook over to me. Curiosity moving my hands for me as I flipped open the old leather book.
For a split second as my eyes ran over handwritten notes, I had the idea that Alistair could be Dr. Bourne, exacting her revenge on the CIA. Yet at the same time it wouldn't make sense why she would target me when we had never met before.
I held my hand in the spine of the book, reaching over to send Ivan a quick email request to get me the case file on Bourne's death and the explosion that killed her. After hitting send, I moved back to reading the notebook. Pages after pages were filled with diagrams and notes. Bourne was on the same path I was with organ regrowth and regeneration. The difference between the two of us was Bourne was working more towards cloning and replacing organs, and also working on manipulation of the subject to shift away from human and original organs. Her focus was on the idea of creating humans into replicants, a truly science fiction thought that was soon to be a reality. Replicants were formed from human subjects altered into no longer being human, just vessels that looked like humans but were faster, stronger and invincible.
I was focused on improving on what existed in humans by peeling apart the DNA we are all born with and rebuilding it. Likened to rebuilding a broken house structure to withstand earthquakes and hurricanes, still true to form but a bit better. I did not want to replace humanity, I only wanted to make it stronger where it was desperately needed. Bourne was replacing humanity where I was evolving it slowly.
I flipped further, easily recognizing that the Honeycomb experiments were the foundation of which Beekeeper was eventually created from. Bourne was the lead scientist in the CIA who wanted to create a super soldier to eliminate the need to send the country's youth to war when one soldier could be repaired like a machine over and over, sent back out over and over. It was her version of patriotism to cover her obvious desire to be a maniacal creator.
All of this was laid out in the first few pages of her notebook, highlighting her structuring proposal of the program that would be presented to the heads of the CIA. Bourne was fiercely intelligent, gifted and yet misdirected in how humanity truly was not meant to be perfect. Humanity was created to be flawed and imperfect, that's what made life exciting.
I read over the few pages highlighting her first full human patient and how they were brought to her after a field mission that went wrong. The subject was burned over ninety percent of their body, paralyzed from the waist down and would eventually need multiple organ transplants.
Bourne had named all of her test cases Honeycomb and added a numerical attachment as she progressed. This particular new first subject, she named Honey. I stopped and read thoroughly over on section discussing her first procedure on Honey. A formula Bourne had created that regenerated burnt skin at a faster and equally as painful rate as traditional skin grafts.
"Honey appears to be building a hatred towards me and the other staff members. Fighting us when we attempt to begin the procedure. I will have to speak with Dr. Emmons in the psych unit. Persuasion of the mind may be required to continue. I cannot utilize narcotics or other drugs, for it will taint the whole procedure."
I cringed at her words, flipping through the back half of the notebook, hoping to find anything that would identify who Honey was, their real name. All I found was a last entry in November of 2010.
"Honey has been approved. I have been approved. Beekeeper will start next week and I have the endless funding I will need to begin phase two. The organ replacement phase. This is fantastic news as Honey and I have become close, friendly in the recent months as the healing as taken effect. The "therapy" sessions have been a huge assistance in winning over Honey. We have almost found a mutual ground to stand upon and continue without all of the endless fighting I have had to endure over the length of this particular case. Honey has also been critical in assisting with the two other cases who will be entering the next phase of their rebirth."
After the small paragraph, the rest of the page was blank. Only a set of numbers sat on the last line at the bottom of the page. 101383 – 081510.
I scribbled the numbers on a notepad. I would run them through all of the databases I had access to. Hoping they would be attached to a file or research.
When I was done reading, I secured the notebook in my safe. I turned to the back wall that faced Kit's bedroom as I heard her door open. All thoughts about Bourne, Honey, and Beekeeper went to the back burner. I would worry about them later after I had eaten and slept. I left the lab and moved to the stairs leading to the kitchen.
I couldn't wait to sleep in a bed with Kit next to me, her arm wrapped around my stomach possessively. I smiled at the thought, standing up and laughing lightly as I heard Davidek telling Kit about his grilled cheese sandwiches upstairs. Enjoying the simple sound of the two of them bantering and knowing for now, in this moment, everything was back to normal.
Davey was hovering around the frying pan, checking on the thick slab of cheese and bread, he had in the pan. He motioned at the tablet he pushed in front of me with a spatula, "The diagram of Claire's office is there. It's the original blueprints from the retrofitting renovation the government did four years ago." He looked more relaxed than I had ever seen him in my life. His sleeves were rolled up, collar unbuttoned and his deep blue tie was tossed over on the table by the window and he was wearing an apron folded over to cover only the waist and front of his pants. I smiled at the sight of seeing him dressed down, knowing that moments like this would be rare.
I swiped across the tablet screen, black and white layouts of the Senate building sliding past. I stopped on the one he had tagged, double tapping and zooming in, I leaned closer over the edge of the island counter. I started to move the diagram around, squinting at it. Then quickly realized I really didn't have to squint, my vision was crystal clear and beyond perfect. I had to look up and around the kitchen, picking up the smallest details in sharp clarity. I blinked a few times and leaned back. I sat for a minute, taking a small inventory of the usual aches and pains I carried in my body. All of them were gone and replaced with a strange weightless feeling only hindered by the fact I was mildly sleepy.
I looked at my hands as I stretched them out, rolling my shoulders and my back. There was nothing, I felt nothing. Claire's serum had made me feel like I imagined I did when I was born. Brand new and unbroken by living thirty odd years on this planet and all the things I had done to my body. I felt like I had an endless amount of energy and could run for days or lift cars as if they were tin cans. It was an unusual feeling and made me wonder how long it would last.
Davey looked up at me after flipping the first sandwich, "Earth to Kit? I asked if you wanted one or two of the triple cheese special?"
I blinked, smiling, "Um, two. I could easily eat two." I went back to the tablet. "Which route does Claire usually take to work?"
Davey wiped his hands on a blue and white striped towel, "She has over fifty three different routes that are randomly chosen the moment she leaves the house. She set up a computer program that ties into the GPS and selects the route. It's virtually
impossible for anyone to know which way she is going or to hack into the system." He set the towel down, leaning across the counter at me, he reached over to tap on the tablet, bringing up the map of all the routes on a map of the city. Red and blue lines showing her routes to work and then the return routes back home. Davey ran a finger across a few of them, "Claire used to drive herself until Rebecca began to panic a little and politely asked her to sit in the back where the armor was thicker." He stopped on one thick red line, "This one is a route that is the safest and fastest to get to her office. It also passes three spots where the police love to sit and run traffic stops." He leaned back, returning to his pile of cheese and bread. Davey began to stack a new sandwich together, "Protecting her to and from will be easiest, the cars are impenetrable, the routes are hard to keep surveillance on. The biggest concern will be keeping her safe inside the building and as she moves about within the parameters of her job."
I nodded in agreement, clicking back to the diagram of her office, I listened as Davey continued, "The office has upgrades to protect from biological attacks with doors built to be miniature blast shields. I do see issues with the main entrance being less than forty feet away from her office door and the large windows on the east wall."
I sat back on the bar stool, folding my arms and watching Davey do the most domesticated thing I had ever seen him do. "Can you come with us when she returns to work? I would like to have an extra set of eyes with me as I get acclimated."
Davey dropped a hot sandwich on a plate, shoving it over to me, "I will. I haven't been in her office in almost a year. I would like to give it a look." He raised an eyebrow at me, looking at the sandwich in front of me.
I smiled, picking up the warm and buttery creation. I took one thick bite, letting the cheese ooze around my taste buds, mixing with the butter and the bread. I moaned in delight, the sandwich was amazing and lighting up my stomach with the desire to devour it in seconds. I mumbled through a full mouth, "Incredible."
Davey bowed lightly, grinning. He set a fresh pile of bread into the pan and let it simmer. "I dare you to find another that can match or exceed my infamous triple cheese."
I giggled, taking another large bite. I was so engrossed in the warm gooeyness I didn't see Claire enter the kitchen until I felt her hand glide over my back. I looked up at her with a greasy mouth, attempting to issue a greeting. She shook her head, laughing lightly as she wiped the few crumbs from the corner of my mouth with her thumb, licking it after as she walked over to Davey to help him with the food. She was still wearing my purple sweatshirt, it was baggy on her, but I could see that she needed it more than I did. Wearing it was Claire's attempt to keep me close while keeping the distance she needed to work on the serum.
I finished my sandwich, listening to her and Davey talk about how each of his creations could cause small heart attacks with the amount of cheese and butter he used. I pushed my empty plate back, standing up to walk to the refrigerator and grab the large jug of ice tea. When I grabbed three glasses, I looked over my shoulder at the extremely domesticated scene of Claire flipping a perfectly browned piece of bread. I smiled as I stared at her, this was something I wanted, something I could see happening every day. Waking up to her and sitting with her in the kitchen as we stumbled through cooking for one another.
Claire glanced up from the pan, her eyes catching mine. A slow smile crept over her face as Davey gently pushed her out of the way so he could finish his masterpieces. She held her hands up, surrendering the frying pan and the stove top back to her friend, walking around and taking a seat on the bar stool next to mine.
I walked back to the counter. Setting the glasses and jug down, Davey's phone rang. He had to balance the towel and spatula to dig it out of his back pocket, "I have to take this girls." He raised an eyebrow at me, "Keep an eye on this. Two more minutes and it will be perfect." He then pointed at Claire, "And don't let this one tell you any different. She tries to use her big brain to perfectly calculate the temp and time."
I laughed, nodding at him, "I will diligently protect your triple cheese." Davey winked at me and ran out of the kitchen, answering the phone. Claire was smiling softly, looking across at the stove. She was tired and I could tell that her mind was still working in overdrive. I moved to stand behind her, sliding my arms around her waist, hands settling on her stomach, I set my chin on her shoulder pulling her closer into my body. I felt her sigh as her hands found mine. I didn't realize how much I missed her until she was in my arms, her body heat warming me thoroughly. "Am I going to get this sweatshirt back or should I just concede to the fact you have stolen it?" I smiled as I kissed her shoulder, hoping a small joke would break her out of the rest of her haze.
Claire leaned back into my arms, "It reminds me of you." Her voice was soft as she turned slightly to face me, looking me over as if she was trying to memorize every inch, "I will give it back after I wash it. I have slept and lived in it for the last few days." Her hand came up to my cheek, fingers light as they moved across my skin, tracing over my lips. I had to close my eyes as I felt my body begin to awaken completely.
"Keep it." I whispered hoarsely as I leaned in, my hands gripping tightly on her side. Slowly urging her forward, urging her lips closer to mine. Her lips grazed slowly over mine, making me close my eyes tightly. I moved forward and as her bottom lip connected with mine, Davey rushed back into the kitchen.
"Kit! I told you two minutes!"
I groaned as Claire backed away, both of us glaring at the frantic man grabbing a towel and a spatula to remove the smoking sandwich. I cleared my throat, "Sorry, Davey. I got distracted."
He frowned at me, waved a towel over the pan to disperse the small smoke cloud. "I bet." He then shot a dirty look at Claire. "I will finish these last few for you girls and then I have to go. That was my contact over at the CIA, he wants to meet with me." Davey dumped the destroyed sandwich into the sink before looking over at Claire and I. "It seems the small fiasco in Tennessee has made the CIA backtrack a little. They have put a hold on all actions against you Claire. Focusing all of their energy on the Church of the Rising Son and figuring out who Alistair Montgomery is." Davey worked on the bread and cheese as he continued, "My contact is providing me with the preliminary report about the motel from the CIA's end. I will have more information by tomorrow morning." He leaned back next to the stove top, "For now, Claire, the CIA has no interest in making your life difficult. The hold order appears to be indefinite. The FBI has begun to question them a little more since there was evidence in the motel tying Alistair to a handful of FBI cases. Bottom line the CIA has to behave because they are being forced to share." He wiped his hands on the towel, "Small silver lining I guess?"
Claire nodded, "I guess. Can you forward me the information as soon as you get it? I have Ivan working on Dr. Bourne, searching for anything he can find in his little world of hackers." She reached over to pick up one of the sandwiches Davey had stacked up, "If you can, ask your contact if he has ever heard of Honeycomb or a patient zero called Honey?"
Davey pulled off his apron, "Consider it done." He tossed the apron my way, "It's all yours, Kit. I have to head out and meet my contact." He walked around the counter and hugged Claire from the side, kissing her cheek, whispering something in Czech. Davey then walked over to me, scooping me in an uncharacteristic for him, bear hug.
He squeezed me hard, whispering in my ear, "Get her to bed and take care of her. It's her turn tonight." He dropped me back down with a shitty grin, "Call me if you need anything. I might not be back until late. If so, I will show myself to the basement." Davey rushed to the table, picking up his tie and suit jacket, throwing us a smile as he ran out of the kitchen.
I looked at Claire, "He hugged me."
Claire took a bite of her food, nodding, "He did." She slowly turned to look at me, "He sees you as family. Has for a very long time, but never knew how to tell you. Davidek never wanted you to think he was hitting on you and then when you spiraled away, he had
to keep a hard line with you." Claire reached for a napkin, "Davidek used to speak fondly of you back when you two first met. For a while I often wondered if he did have a secret crush on you." She smirked, "But I soon realized that he was taking you under his wing like he did when I was six and he was seven and his brothers picked on me."
I stared at Claire, confused and shocked at what she was telling me. "Davey was always distant with me. Kind but distant. He also was the only one who ever helped me from day one until now." I set the apron down on the counter, "I thought he hated me and put up with me out of pity's sake these last few years. That he was one of my closest friends but I was far from his."
Claire grinned, "You aren't one of his friends. You are his family and I think now is the appropriate time to tell you that. That pretentious perfect man would do anything for you as he would for me. Davidek would not go to the lengths he has for you if you were just a co-worker or a friend. He told me that you often reminded him of his grandmother in the fierce intensity you have to see everything to the fullest. Whether it was your job with the Secret Service or your job at drinking yourself into oblivion. You would give it everything you had and would not bend for anyone or anything. That is why he eventually brought you to me. Knowing that in the end family would be the perfect protection for family." Claire looked up at me, pushing her empty plate away, "Even if you continue to ruin his perfect food creations." She pointed at the smoking frying pan.
"Shit." I ran over to the stove top, ripping the frying pan off the flame and scraping the burnt bread free. I shook my head as I dropped the black ember of a sandwich on a plate. I looked over at Claire who was laughing and genuinely smiling. "Please don't tell him."
She raised her hands up, "He will never know." Claire stood up, collecting the plates to bring over to the sink, "I do wonder if he knew that you and I would become what we have, a formidable force of love that will not give in." Setting the plates in the sink, she reached for the frying pan. Her eyes met mine and I felt my heart skip. It would always skip when she looked at me like that, a woman who saw her entire world in me.
Redemptio Animae Page 55