Pandora's Succession

by Russell Brooks

  “I’m…I’m here for you, Dewan. We’re all here for you. I can only imagine the thoughts that must be going on in your head right now, but you’ve got to listen to me. Is it all right if we still talk? We can stay right here or we can sit back down at the table, whichever you prefer.”

  Dewan kept clinging to Parris, but he stopped bawling.

  “I’m assuming you want to stay here. That’s all right. We can talk right here,” said Parris as she stroked the top of his head. It was so smooth that she couldn’t resist continuing. “Your father had a weak heart. He’d already suffered a heart attack five years ago. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

  Parris glanced over at Eva. She stared blankly back at her, as though she was beginning to get bored.

  Dewan started to sniff as he tried to utter a few words. “It happened because of me. My arrest, that was too much for him to handle. And I was innocent and still am.”

  Dewan sat up and wiped the tears with the sleeve of his shirt. Parris kept one hand on his shoulder.

  “There are few people for you to go back home to, Dewan. It’s going to even be more difficult for you when you go back.” Parris turned to Dewan and crouched beside him. “Back home, all you’ve experienced is a half-rate justice system that lets the guilty walk, and hard-working individuals like yourself fall to the bottom of the barrel. The people you met yesterday, maybe they don’t mean much to you, but they are good people. They’ve all suffered at the hands of injustice like you have. And one way or another, they’ve all come from similar backgrounds like you, and even Eva.” Parris held his hand as she continued to speak to him.

  “Hazel,” he said.

  Parris’s eyes widened as she heard him say the name. “I beg your pardon?”

  Dewan sniffed. “Hazel. That was my sister’s name. Her perfume smelled just like yours. She’s the only one at home whom I was close to before-”

  “Shh! You don’t have to talk about that.” Parris already knew about Hazel. She had been killed in a hit and run. The police never found the culprit. She felt that Dewan blamed himself for not being able to save her.

  “The important thing, Dewan, is that your new friends can and will be your family, because they are just like you. Just from different parts of the world. I think one of them is from New Orleans and lost everything to Hurricane Katrina. They were nice to you yesterday because when they look at you, they see themselves. And trust me, they want to help you get over the pain. You might be labeled a criminal, but you’re far from being one.” Parris noticed Dewan had stopped crying and had started listening. Is this Clarity taking effect on him? “Look at what the outside world has done. It’s destroyed your family and kept you down. And the ones responsible for all your family’s problems got away with it.”

  Dewan wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

  “Your sister died a senseless death. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. As for your father, his weak heart couldn’t take the stress of you going to jail for a crime that you didn’t commit.”

  Dewan wiped his forehead with his sleeve again.

  “This is your opportunity to get back at everyone. Join The Promise and you’ll be saved from the upcoming apocalypse. You know what you need to do, Dewan.”

  Something was odd. Dewan was not wiping away tears, but rather perspiration. When Parris looked at Eva, she wasn’t perspiring. “Eva, do you feel hot?”

  “No, why?” she asked.

  “I was just asking.” Parris didn’t feel hot either. It was something she had not noticed in any previous test subjects. She looked back at Dewan. God, he’s sweating. She was ready to call the infirmary but thought better not to panic him. She touched Dewan’s shoulder. “Come. Let me help you back to your chair. You’ll calm down easier.”

  He slapped it away hard enough that Parris was tipped over slightly. Oh Lord, this ain’t good.

  She backed off, but like a whip, Dewan’s hand gripped her throat. He stood, pulling Parris up with him. A few seconds later she felt her feet dangling. Oh my God, how’d he get so strong? This has to be some sort of adrenaline rush. Parris glanced at Eva who sat with her jaw locked open and trembling. Shit, she’s strapped in and can’t escape.

  “Dewan!” Parris choked out as she kicked him just below his right kneecap with the tip of her pump. He lost his grip and Parris dropped to the floor. She turned around to run and slipped. She fell, but immediately clawed away on all fours. Two hands locked around her ankles and jerked her backwards. She had no grip on the floor and her palms screeched against the tiles.

  Where the hell’s security? Hashimoto? What’s taking you so long? “Dewan, stop! Please.” She could use her martial arts skills. Sure, and risk blowing her cover. Or not defend herself and die. Something was wrong with him. He yanked her from the back of her collar and pulled her up onto her feet. As Dewan continued to tug on the collar, Parris easily slipped out of her lab coat. Luckily, it wasn’t buttoned.

  She spun around quickly and landed a side-palm strike to the side of Dewan’s neck. She could’ve gone for his face but the neck was a more vulnerable spot-no effect. Dewan threw the lab coat to the floor and grabbed her throat again and squeezed. Parris caught a glimpse of the ceiling as the pressure around her neck crushed her more than she had imagined Dewan was capable of.

  She caught a glimpse of the one-way glass behind Dewan, and all she could think of at that moment was about security and why they weren’t there yet. Those idiots behind the glass could see what’s going on. Why aren’t they doing anything? There was a madman in front of her-a raging redness in his eyes and growing, bulging veins in his neck. She’d lost Dewan to some monster she may have created.

  Parris heard Eva screaming for help to the point that it was inaudible background noise. She slammed against the wall twice, and then suddenly, she was free. She fell, and then something large struck her, ran alongside her body and turned her. The turning stopped when she was blocked by a much harder and colder surface which didn’t yield to her movement. It was only instinct that caused her to sit up. But she was weak and she dropped back to the floor.

  She was now at peace and it was the most comfortable feeling. Darkness came down on her as heavy as the weight of a stage curtain, making her unable to move and unwilling to try.

  Chapter 11

  Hideaki Hashimoto’s office at Hexagon Pharmaceuticals

  Parris opened her eyes in a series of blinks. She recognized Hashimoto’s voice speaking in Japanese. She turned her head and saw the scientists from the monitoring room in front of Hashimoto’s desk. A chill under her head jolted her up. That was when she saw the ice pack that had been propped between the back of her head and the cushion. She got halfway up, still feeling some throbbing at the back of her head. It all came back to her-Dewan had attacked her.

  “Dr. Parris. Thank goodness,” Hashimoto cried out. He rose from behind his desk and walked over to her. The other two followed, but kept their distance a few feet behind him. Hashimoto knelt down on one knee and placed a hand on Parris’s shoulder. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Better abou-wha? From being knock out, or that it took suh long for you to send someone to help me?” Parris sucked her teeth as her Barbadian accent came out strong. Hashimoto’s eyes dilated as he backed off.

  Hashimoto shrugged his shoulders. “We were taken by surprise. We alerted security. Unfortunately, Dewan had assaulted you just as they arrived. I apologize for the delay. But you were rushed to Hexagon’s infirmary. Our doctor said that you only suffered minor bruises. There appeared to be no internal bleeding or head trauma.”

  It came back to Parris, in bits and pieces. She remembered lying on the floor as the guards tried to subdue Dewan. It took a few jolts of their electroshock guns to bring him down. Talk about creating a monster from a simple experiment. The next thing she remembered was being rolled away on a stretcher and then waking up in the infirmary.

  But they were slow to rescue her. She could’ve suffered more
severe head injuries and could’ve been lying in a hospital, possibly in intensive care. She still blamed them. She might forgive Hashimoto tomorrow, maybe in two days, after she had calmed down. “Where’s Dewan?”

  “He’s in the infirmary under supervision. The last time I checked on him he was still shaken up. I asked him why he attacked you. He said he didn’t know, that he couldn’t remember much, but that he felt exhausted and simply wanted to sleep. But why did you show Dewan the article?”

  Yup, the sixty-four thousand dollar question. “To test the drug’s efficacy. I wanted to see how far I could go without using the visor.”

  “But the chair’s visor is supposed to facilitate that. Once his mind was exposed to all the images, in conjunction with the drug, his mind would become more relaxed and hence be more susceptible to anything you say. The news article wasn’t really necessary.”

  “The new variant of the drug we all worked on was just tested and I think you’d have to agree with my conclusion that it’s unsafe to use.”

  “I can’t agree with you fully, because Eva was a success.”

  “What?”

  “The experiment had to continue, even without you.”

  “You continued with her after what she saw?” Parris asked.

  “We had to calm her with a sedative, but then she was fine.”

  “That was a mistake, and a very dangerous risk. Those aren’t lab mice, they’re human beings. Why would you risk doing something that could potentially damage her brain after what you saw? The experiment should’ve been cancelled.”

  “We’re on a tight schedule. But putting all that aside, what do you remember?”

  Parris sighed while she shook her head. “I…I can’t tell you much…It all happened so fast. I don’t even know where to begin.” Parris then looked up at Hashimoto. His sympathy appeared genuine, but he had serious ethical issues.

  “Don’t trouble yourself. There’s always another time. We have a video of the incident. The video will be reviewed and hopefully we can learn something from them.”

  “I’d like to see them, too.”

  “Another time. You’ll take the rest of the day off to recuperate. You’ve been through a lot. Come back tomorrow when you have a clear head.”

  Parris stood up and walked to the door.

  The brooch. Parris suddenly remembered. She hoped to God that it wasn’t damaged, or else she would never hear the end of it from Levickis.

  “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow with your report of this morning’s events.”

  Parris didn’t answer him but heard the door close as she walked down the dimly-lit, carpeted hallway, decorated with small wall lamps.

  She got to the elevator and pressed the lower button. It arrived a few moments later, and when the doors opened, her path was blocked by a bulky man in a chocolate-colored suit.

  Parris stepped back to allow the miniature camera to catch his face before he walked out. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence with a smile, but Parris didn’t care. As long as he was caught on camera, he could do anything he wanted. The man walked past her and strode briskly to Hashimoto’s office. She had hoped that he would’ve said something to her. Just a few words from him, and his accent, if he had one, would’ve given her a clue to his nationality. But she’d have to wait on Levickis.

  She walked into the elevator and the doors closed. That’s when she unpinned her brooch and looked at it. It looked fine to her, and she pinned it back on. A few unexpected bruises, but the work day was done.

  Half Kilometer from Hexagon Pharmaceuticals.

  Tomas Levickis took another bite from his ham sandwich and rested it on the paper bag on the passenger seat next to him. He chewed while tapping his left foot to the beat of the latest Coldplay on his iPod. Not having many friends didn’t bother him-it helped him concentrate more on his tasks. Ironic as it was, his parents didn’t even have a home computer for him while he was in grade school. He had no choice but to use one at school or at his friend’s place. Maybe being a second-generation American of Lithuanian descent had something to do with it, having parents who were still stuck with their old habits.

  He actually had bought them a desktop computer to get them to start modernizing. They picked at it at first. Then they couldn’t keep off of it and were always sending him emails. First, every day, and then every week. Recently it was reduced to once or twice a month, which was more to his liking.

  He scratched below his left ear on his beard, as he took a sip of water from his plastic bottle. God, it’s about time I shaved this crap off. He picked up his mug and finished off the rest of his coffee. It was his third cup of the morning.

  This was the first time he had been partnered with Parris in the eleven years he’d been a technical field agent and already it was the biggest task he’d ever taken. The change was good, being that it was also the first time he was partnered with a woman-one that was actually in the middle of the action and not sitting with him in a van or on a yacht doing surveillance.

  He watched his computer screen as he saw Nita look at him through her brooch. “It’s all right, princess, it’s not broken.” It was a wonder that it had not broken after the way she was pinned against the wall and then thrown onto the table. Exposed wiring from it would’ve blown Parris’s cover and possibly jeopardized the mission, not to mention her life. Fuck. Thank God she’s all right.

  He pressed replay and saw Nita’s face as she examined the brooch to make sure it still worked. He watched her walk backwards until the man in the chocolate suit appeared, at which point he tapped the left key and freeze-framed the image. Integrated in the software was a face-recognition program, and with a few keystrokes, the image of the man became more focused.

  It only took three minutes before Dewan’s video image was matched up with a picture from the New York Times which Levickis had printed out and given to Parris the night before. He would now use the facial recognition search from the CIA’s databases. He reclined his seat slightly and undid his belt to give his slight pot belly some room to expand.

  He picked up his thermos and poured himself his fourth cup of coffee. “All right, Mr. Brown-suit-man, who are you?”

  Chapter 12

  Entebbe Air Force Base, 4:23AM, local time

  General Downing was the first to burst into the conference room with a file folder, followed by Colonel Bell. Fox and Walsh were already inside as the yelling started.

  “How the Sam Hill could they just turn around and put all the blame on us? Whoever’s responsible for this attack had to get in the country somehow. Damn it, we could easily turn around and blame them for lax border patrol.”

  “We can blame the Ugandans for lax border patrol and they can blame us for lax security on our own compound,” said the Post Commander. “All that’s going to accomplish, is to create tension between our two countries. That’s something we don’t need right now.” Bell went to the opposite side of the table from Downing. “We need more allies here in Africa, if we’re going to prevent terrorists from gaining ground in these parts.”

  “Try explaining that to someone who’ll listen.” General Downing shot a menacing stare at Fox and Walsh-making them feel like two young brothers who were about to be accused of something they knew nothing about. “Any of you men want to trade jobs?” They both looked at each other and then back at Downing. “I didn’t think so.” He rested his cane against the side of the table as he took his seat with Colonel Bell. He sighed. “Some things were found at the CDC compound. But they don’t tell us much.”

  “Such as?” asked Fox.

  “They recovered the clothes of the deceased,” said Downing. “There were the guards, the scientists, and some clothing from the SEALs. Unless the perpetrators were naked there’s no extra clothes indicating they were among the dead.”

  Fox shook his head. “That’s a shame.”

  “Yes, it is,” said Downing. “A damn shame that some Russian-speaking individuals managed to sneak i
nto the compound right under our noses, make off with Pandora, and leave everyone else for dead. And so far, there are no leads as to where they are.”

  “Nor where they’re heading,” said Colonel Bell.

  Fox held back a yawn and rubbed his left eye. “Was there anything else found that was unusual?”

  “Just a dagger sitting on the ground inside the dome,” said Bell. “As far as I know, none of our boys were carrying it.” He handed Downing the folder who then passed it on to Fox.

  Walsh turned to Bell. “Any prints?”

  He shook his head. “Nada.”

  “That’s no surprise.” Fox opened the folder and looked at the picture of the dagger. “But this is.”

  “What is?” Walsh leaned over to look at the picture.

  “It’s a D-W73 Cold War dagger.” Fox handed the picture to Walsh. “This is a 1950’s issue for Russian Air Force officers. There are more modern daggers that could’ve been used if you wanted to attack someone.”

  Bell turned to Fox. “Looks like Ares left their calling card.”

  “It’s unusual for them to go to that extreme,” Fox replied.

  “Was there any blood or other DNA evidence found on the clothing?” asked Walsh.

  Downing shook his head. “There wasn’t a speck of DNA evidence at the crime scene. There wasn’t even any fresh blood on the clothing-just tear marks on one of the victim’s clothing, made from the knife attack, we’re assuming.”

  Fox shook his head. No doubt. Marx said that Pandora will consume everything in order to reproduce. Fox turned to Bell. “And the video footage before the incident?”

  “Wiped clean,” Bell replied. “These guys did their homework.”

  Walsh put both arms on the table and looked at Downing. “Then we should find out more about this Sveta Stechina chick. I say that we search her home inside out. She’s got to have something that could link us to Ares.”