On the screen, there are shown pictures of Chandra sitting on the back of an ambulance with a blanket over her shoulders, full of wounds, disheveled and dirty, with a funny look of being caught by surprise by the photographer.
FBI agents cheer and clap when Chandra appears on the screen.
On the screen, the reporter gives a different view of the events
“But, the National Poultry Association is accusing the FBI of causing last night tragedy.”
The screen shows an aged demagogue with an old-fashion farmer look speaking angrily to a crowd of journalists, who point their microphones and video cameras at him.
At the bottom of the screen says: “Ashton Dawson, Chairman of the National Poultry Association (NPA).”
“Last night tragic events in Arkansas,” says Dawson furiously, “were caused by an illegal intrusion of the FBI in the private property of one of our members.
Mora and some other FBI agents boo at the TV screen.
The TV reporter appears again on the screen giving more information:
“In Washington, Senator Kotchner denounced those events as part of an FBI plot against him.”
The screen shows a classic "old boys club" member, speaking at the Senate. On the bottom of the image reads: “Senator Arthur Kotchner, Arkansas.”
“What a coincidence! The same FBI agent who harassed me here in Washington with false accusations, appeared in Arkansas, causing serious incidents among my constituents!”
The office’s voices booing the senator are lesser this time.
The reporter summarizes the senator’s speech:
“Senator Kotchner accuses the current administration of using federal agencies to violate civil rights.”
The Senator continues speaking on the Senate floor.
“This is another demonstration that the current administration uses the FBI to establish a police state that violates civil rights and free enterprise!”
The agent with the remote control shuts down the TV set angrily.
“This is incredible!”
The effusive strongman speaks out loud.
“We are risking our lives for those assholes!”
Most of the agents lower their heads, pretending to focus on their work.
SAC Dekker enters approaching Chandra’s desk sternly. The office freeze.
“Special Agent Wilkinson, to the Assistant Director Wright’s office! Now!”
Dekker leaves. Chandra stands up troubled, following Dekker. Mora leans toward her, whispering.
“Keep your mouth shut, the events will unfold by themselves!”
Chandra walks toward Wright's office. The tough female agent addresses her when she passes by her.
“Wright is a sycophant! Don’t back down, kiddo!”
Chapter 18. Neither Rhyme nor Reason
Chandra walks into Wright's office.
Wright is waiting for her with annoyance, standing in the middle of the room. Dekker stands in a corner staring at his shoes visibly upset but not with Chandra.
Wright throws a folder on the desk with anger.
“What do you intend, agent Wilkinson? This report has neither rhyme nor reason making unfounded accusations.”
Chandra tries to explain herself.
“Everything is documented with testimonies of witnesses and scientific references…”
Wright interrupts her.
“Just remember what had happened recently. Your harassment over Senator Kotchner cannot continue.”
Chandra interrupts him stubbornly.
“None of this has anything to do with the senator. A real catastrophe is going on in those farms…”
Wright faces Chandra in anger.
“You have just got a non-adverse action. Don’t make me take extra measures against you.”
Chandra struggles to restrain herself.
“Look, Assistant Director, yesterday, there were dozens of deaths and injured…”
Wright stops her with a slap on the desk.
“From this very moment, agent Wilkinson, you are suspended and under investigation by the Office of the Inspector General!”
Chapter 19. Out of the Game
At her apartment, Chandra, in a house robe, collects her belongings throwing them furiously in suitcases, bags, and boxes.
The TV is on a news channel, and she freezes hearing TV reporter on the screen.
“Out of a horror movie, this cornfield grows as a green tsunami.”
Chandra turns to the TV set.
The reporter, a seasoned female news professional, talks to the camera. At her background, a vast cornfield with giant plants agitates as a rough sea. The line below the screen says: “Johanna Rios, Reporter, UNC News, Bloomington, Illinois.”
“This green tsunami moves relentlessly, swallowing houses, farms, and roads in a few hours.”
The screen shows an aerial view of a vast cornfield. A highway cuts it in half. It looks as if it is shaken by a hurricane, but it is actually growing at a glance.
Corn plants grow taller than bamboo trees, rising and pushing each other, making the whole field to move like a rough sea.
The camera zooms to the highway. The vegetation overflows it, breaking the asphalt and the concrete in slow motion.
The reporter talks off screen.
“Plants grow incredibly fast and have invaded the road like a green flood.”
Cars and trucks hit the brakes and collide between them or with the waves of plants.
In other footage, a large tanker loses control, crashing into other vehicles and exploding.
The fire devours nearby cars and extends through the rough green sea of plants. The line at the bottom of the screen says: “I-55 Shirley, Illinois.”
The reporter explains the footage:
“Our news helicopter caught this tragic accident on the I-55 highway worsening the chaos already caused by the green flood.”
Chandra loses her temper and throws everything on a dresser to the floor. She sits down, holding her head with her hands.
Her phone rings. She takes it. The caller ID says “MOM.”
Chandra answers.
“Hi, mom, how are you?”
“Hello, sweetheart. You didn’t call me last night. I saw you on the news. My girl, a heroine! What did your bosses say?”
Chandra sights.
“They suspended me, period!”
“Oh, my God! What a dirty trick! It was logical. Kotchner charged again, this time publicly. What are you up to?”
“Nothing at all! I’m done, mom, they won!”
“Don’t give in, you must redeem yourself. Otherwise, they’ll get away with it.”
Chandra drops down on a chair hopeless.
“What could I do?”
Dr. Wilkison tries to encourage her.
“The situation with the GMOs treated Mutanex has become critical! This is your chance!”
Chandra shakes her head.
“My hands and feet are tied. They are waiting for any reason to take away my security clearance and lay me off from the Bureau.”
Dr. Wilkison insists.
“That's why you should find conclusive evidence, expose them, bring them to justice.”
Chandra gets desperate.
“Where can I find such evidence?”
“That’s why I’m calling you. I have just received a letter from a former student of mine, Dr. Heinrich Forseter, who was the scientist chief of Saint Mount.”
Chandra stands up excited.
“Is he still working with them?”
“No. He objected Saint Mount decision of taking Mutanex out to the market before passing the tests’ period.”
Chandra goes excited around the room searching for her scattered things.
“What happened to him?” Chandra asks, excited.
“Saint Mount launched Mutanex to the market and Forester denounced them publicly. They accused him of violating his confidentiality agreement.”
“They crucified
him, I assume.”
“Exactly, he went to prison, and Saint Mount pressed some academic institutions to rip him off from all his titles and scientific grades. Very sad story. I have just received his letter saying that he has got some evidence on Saint Mounts responsibility on the present GMOs crisis.”
Chandra stops surprised.
“Do you have its sender address?
“It only has a Nebraska PO Box,” says the professor.
Chandra continues.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find it,” says Chandra eager looking over her mess, “just, send me a message with the envelope’s photo. Thanks, mom, you have saved my life… again!”
Dr. Wilkison sounds relief that her daughter has decided to take action.
“Bye, sweetheart, take care. Think carefully what you’re going to do, remember what your father used to say.”
“Yes, mom, don’t worry, I’ll call you soon, bye!”
Chandra hangs her phone up. Ashe walks around her room, determined, waiting. Her phone sounds announcing a new message. She reads a photo of a mail envelope on her telephone screen.
“Return Address: PO Box 67093. Lincoln, NE 68506.
Recipient Address: Dr. Rhonda Wilkison, Scientific Director. Krishna P. Singh Center for Nanotechnology, 3205 Walnut St Philadelphia, PA 19104.”
Immediately, Chandra dials a number on her phone while looking for some clothes throughout the mess in her room.
Mora answers the phone call.
“My favorite agent! I'm glad you called me. I had called you a lot and send you tons of texts.”
Chandra talks while dressing up and picking for some personal stuff to put them in a bag.
“Hi, Mora! How’s everything?”
“Call me Manny, damn it! There is a great discontent here over what they did to you. How’ve you been?”
“Fine, thanks! I know I shouldn’t ask you this and I could implicate you… “
Mora interrupts her.
“Hey! Don’t even think about it! What can I do for you?”
Chandra is almost dressed and puts on some makeup in front of a mirror.
“I’ve got a PO box number… I know it isn’t legal but…”
Mora whispers jokingly.
“If you don’t tell anyone…”
“I’ll send you a photo. Thanks, Mora, I owe you one.”
“How many times do I must tell you to call me Manny, carajo!”
“I’m sorry, Manny, it’s the habit.”
Chandra looks for her purse, look over her credit cards and puts the purse in her bag.
“Okay, sin lío,” jokes Mora, “you owe me a dinner, take care. ¡Dale!”
Chandra has just finished dressing and putting some personal stuff in a bag.
“I’ll invite you as soon as I could get my salary back again, bye.”
Chandra hangs up and sends him the photo in a text. Then, she takes a final look at the mirror, picks up her bag and leaves.
Chapter 20. Forseter’s Farm
In the middle of the night, Chandra drives a rental car on a Nebraska dirt road bordered by endless cornfields.
The headlights only let her see the road in front of her.
She tries to orientate herself with the GPS, but she feels lost.
After driving a couple of hours more, in the darkness, she sees a few lights ahead in the distance. She heads toward them.
A few minutes later, between some trees and bushes, at the end of a dirt driveway, she discovers a farm house next to a big barn driving toward them.
She stops the car between the house and the barn.
On getting out of the car, she hears some daunting bellows coming from the barn. She takes out her gun and a flashlight and walks toward the barn.
She hesitates, opens painstakingly the barn’s door, which makes a long creepy creak. She hesitates again and enters the darkness.
The barn is in shadows. Some beating, kicking, shrieks and raucous roars are heard.
The stench is horrible. Chandra covers her nose with her hand.
The noise gets louder. She walks aiming the flashlight and her gun into the darkness.
Suddenly, she lights up a cage of strong steel bars.
Inside, a monstrous body throws itself against the bars with a bloodcurdling shriek.
Chandra gets scared losing her step, falling to the floor.
Inside the large cage, big animal’s muscles are revealed under a thick fur. Huge incisors and claws attack the steel. Its shriek is deafening.
It's a giant rabbit bigger than a cow, looking at her with terrible red eyes.
A horrible roar makes her turn around.
A huge monkey hand tries to reach her through the bars of another cage. It's a macaque twice the size of the biggest gorilla trying to grab her through the bars.
Chandra freaks out. She jumps up yelling.
She aims her flashlight further, discovering a large alley of cages with all type of experimentation animals in them.
There are different types of giant monkeys as marmosets, spider monkeys, squirrel monkeys, baboons, and chimpanzees. All jump and roar, hitting their cages' bars furiously.
There are also lots of rodents as rabbits, hamsters and white mice the size of bulls.
All animals are huge and monstrous. Some have tubes and instruments connected to them.
The noise they make is unbearable.
Suddenly, a hand lands on her shoulder.
By pure reflex, Chandra turns over and throws the hand’s owner over her shoulder with a jiu-jitsu movement.
A man in a lab coat hits the floor face up, moaning.
Chandra aims her flashlight and gun at him yelling at him.
“Don’t move! Hands on your neck, now!”
From the floor, the man in the lab coat whines in pain:
“Okay, okay! I just wanted to help you!”
Chandra stammers embarrassed.
“Doctor Forseter?”
Dr. Forster sits on the floor with one hand protecting his eyes from the flashlight. He has the classic look of a scientist disconnected from reality.
“With whom I have the pleasure?”
Chandra puts away the gun and runs solicitous to help the scientist getting up. The noise of the animals is so intense that they should speak shouting at each other.
“I’m so sorry! I was shocked by everything you’ve got here! I’m so sorry!”
Chandra helps Dr. Forseter to stand up, who grabs his back with his hands in pain.
“I’m sorrier. You have the police type.”
Chandra, ashamed, searches for her ID and shows it to the scientist.
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I’m special agent Wilkison from the FBI.”
Dr. Forseter scratches his head:
“I hope I haven’t broken any law. This laboratory is licensed and approved by...”
Chandra hurries to calm Forrester.
“No, no, no! It's nothing like that! I just wanted your help.”
“My help? Wait, I know you. I saw you at the Professor Wilkinson’s conference. Wilkinson, right? You are her daughter!”
“Yes, I’m her daughter.”
The noise from the animals makes them yell and cover their ears with their hands. Forseter needs to shout to be heard.
“Let’s better go to the house!”
They leave the barn, walking toward the nearby house and going inside it.
It is a solitary scientist’s home.
More than a living room and a kitchen it looks like a laboratory, crammed with books, papers, computers, laboratory equipment, retorts, microscopes, etc.
“Excuse the mess,” says Dr. Forseter, “I wasn’t expecting visitors.
“Don’t worry, I couldn’t find your phone number to call you.”
“I don't have a phone, so anybody could interrupt me,” responds Dr. Forseter, “I’ve got a tablet and a hotspot with me. How can I help you?”
“I was investigating some irregularities of Sa
int Mount, and I knew about the injustice they did to you.”
Dr. Forster removes some laboratory stuff from the range. He fills a kettle with water and put it on the stove.
“Injustice is an elegant understatement,” Dr. Forseter adds with bitter irony, “do you like some coffee, tea, anything to drink or eat?”
“Tea will be fine, thank you. Could you illustrate me on what I’ve just seen there in the barn? Does it have anything to do with Saint Mount and its Mutanex product.”
Dr. Forseter laughs.
“Oh, that! It must have looked to you like Doctor Moreau’s Island. They are part of my last research.”
“Have you continued researching about GMOs? Does it have anything to do with Saint Mount and its Mutanex product.”
“I devoted my best years developing Mutanex and, now, I’m looking for a way to neutralize it.”
“You wrote to my mother that you have evidence implicating Saint Mount.”
“Exactly! I have proofs that Saint Mount knew beforehand about Mutanex’s side effects.”
“That's a serious accusation. Why haven’t you gone to the authorities?”
Dr. Forseter opens his arms.
“I’m still under a confidentiality agreement with Saint Mount. I'm also an ex-con, and I’ve been stripped off from all my scientific degrees.”
Chandra pleads.
“Look, I need hard evidence to take the fight against Saint Mount. Now is the best time to take it on Saint Mount, given the GMOs crisis.”
“The professor’s last week conference prompted me to write her,” meditates Forseter, “I have followed the news about the animal attacks closely, and I realize that they were related to the use of Mutanex.”
“Is there anything new?”
Forseter goes to the computer.
“Come, I’ll show you. There is a pattern in all these cases,” Dr. Forseter types into his computer, “look at this YouTube video!”
Chandra lean next to him to watch the PC screen
A YouTube video shows a middle-aged male reporter with a professional look and attire speaking to the camera.
In his background, there are lots of patrol cars, ambulances, and firefighter’s vehicles with their lights flashing along with some pork-transporting semi-trucks at the main entrance of a large meat processing plant.
The line at the bottom of the screen says: “Colin Dern, NCC Reporter, Tar Heel, North Carolina.”
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