Cobb said, “We were concerned the Russians, or the Chinese, or some other group, may have taken control. So we arranged a ban on all Cerberus US people. We weren’t able to discriminate.”
“Yet you allowed me and my group to enter? You provided VIP treatment.”
Cobb said, “We decided we had to take a risk. We knew your history, we were confident you weren’t part of a Chinese conspiracy, and we didn’t think you were in bed with the Russians. Our contacts—we have some Cerberus, er, sources in America—told us you were more likely to keep your distance from Schmidt and unlikely to be involved in Cerberus. Your, er, removal of funds did worry us, though.”
“I’ve tried to be independent of any group. I’m not sure I can continue to maintain my independence, though.”
“Why not?” asked Goodwin.
“I have befriended, protected, three Cerberus people, two of whom are very young children. I might have to add three more genetically engineered children—young adults—to our group. It will depend on what we discover tomorrow. My sister is genetically engineered. I have an obligation to protect these people, these children, who rely on me. As of yesterday, as you undoubtedly have heard, either my life or my freedom is at risk. I’ve tried to maintain my independence but I think I may need to review and alter my strategy.”
Nods from all around the table.
“I want to raise one major point,” Mark said. “We—me, you, all Cerberus people—don’t know whether we’ll live to enjoy our old age. We don’t know what will happen to Cerberus children as they develop. We don’t know whether we can or should mate, Cerberus to Cerberus, or Cerberus to other genetically engineered people, at least those engineered in embryo. We don’t know what health problems may occur. Dr. White’s research program focused on producing genetically engineered embryos and nanite-based DNA proteins for adults. As far as I know, she didn’t research any after affects. She wasn’t emotionally concerned whether an engineered child lived or died, let alone what would happen if the child grew to become an adult. These things worry me. I don’t believe any research has been done on these issues in America. What about here?”
Goodwin answered. “We’ve done no research here. Our laboratories focus on finding and checking potential mothers, and implanting embryos provided by Cerberus US. Our technicians monitor and help raise and support Cerberus children. We provide educational structures to match their rapid maturing process. Genetic engineering of human embryos is illegal so we haven’t conducted any of those experiments. We’ve been skating close to the law with what we’ve implemented. I don’t think anyone has thought seriously about the lifetime impacts. I agree there are significant gaps in our knowledge.”
No one said anything as the group considered all this.
Mark broke the silence. “I think there are two areas we should consider. First, I believe Cerberus must implement an intensive research program focused on the aging impact for both pre- and post-engineered people. US and UK organizations must support this and minimize or cease further DNA research, unless the researchers encounter needs based on their aging research. I will do everything I can to ensure Schmidt implements such a program. I’ll consider taking a role in Cerberus UK as long as we organize it as an independent operation, which we can discuss once I’ve spoken with Schmidt. Do you agree?”
There were nods—some reluctant—from the Cerberus people around the table. They all appeared to be deep in thought. Mark let the silence settle for a few minutes.
He said, “I’ll discuss this meeting with Schmidt. Do you want my involvement?”
Goodwin said, “Show of hand, please. Are you interested in Midway taking a role in our operations?”
“Subject to further discussion and agreeing responsibilities, yes,” Jeffries said. His strong northern accent was subdued. He looked at Mark and said. “You raised some very strong points. I agree, we’ve neglected the children.”
Five hands were raised, one or two with apparent reluctance.
“Good,” Goodwin said. “Mark, we’ll continue after you’ve spoken with Schmidt and have his agreement.”
~~~
After he returned to the hotel, Mark contacted Schmidt to report details of his meeting. He repeated his comments about the kind of research Cerberus labs needed to focus on.
Schmidt was silent for a few moments. Then he said, “I’ve been thinking along similar lines. I’ve undertaken, almost completed, the series of Cerberus post-engineering nanite medications. I decided to do this because I believe I need to understand what it means to be genetically engineered, if I’m to be responsible for Cerberus US. I think you’re correct. We need to research the long term effects.”
“Good. Also, we discussed future management of the Cerberus operation here. They’re looking for strategic guidance and want to know what I can contribute. In other words, should I take on management of Cerberus UK? Basically the same question you asked me. I must say, I’m interested.”
“Excellent. Let’s schedule a meeting with me, Maeve, you, and whoever you suggest from the people you met with.”
“I’ll include DI Goodwin. I’ll discuss with her whether anyone else should be involved.”
“Send me an e-mail with the details. Schedule it for late tomorrow, my time. I have meetings most of the day, at least through mid-afternoon.”
As Mark terminated the call, Anna, Reb and the two children invaded his suite through the connecting door. Reb stood back, silent, observing.
“We’ve been everywhere,” Gabrielle said. “I think Scott and Sera are worn out.”
Niland added, “The two extra security guys have sore feet, they said.”
Anna gave him a soft smile. “What have you been doing, Mark?”
“I met with the UK management team. Afterwards I had a discussion with Schmidt. I’m still absorbing it all. Reb, it’s time we visited your friends; we’ll go there in the morning. You, Anna, and I only.” Niland and Gabrielle immediately protested. Mark held up his hand. “No, not this time. Settle down. You’ll stay here with Scott and Sera.”
“But why?” Niland asked.
“Because I have a feeling…we should proceed with caution,” Mark replied, trying to describe the flow of apprehension that entered his mind whenever he thought of Reb’s three genetically engineered friends. “I don’t know why. My concern has been growing stronger every day.”
A flicker of worry darkened Reb’s face. “Wh-what kind of concern?” she asked. “I’ve been getting more and more worried, too, for the past week.”
“It’s difficult to describe. The only solution is to visit them.”
“When?” Reb asked.
“Let me check with our support team. DI Goodwin promised a package would be delivered—it should be our weapons. She also promised me a copy of their report on your friends, and I’d like to review it. Plan for ten tomorrow morning, okay?”
~~~
Alexey Grigoryevich had the cell phone on vibrate. He was halfway to his apartment, at the end of a boring day at the embassy. The phone was a throwaway provided by the American, and he would throw it away as far as possible after this. He flipped open the lid—the phone was as simple as it was cheap—and accessed the text message.
“PLAN FOR B.”
Well, if McCarr’s intelligence was any good, he had eliminated two of the possible three locations for their mission against Cerberus. The third building was an almost derelict warehouse.
The American had provided addresses of three properties, each under one of the likely flight paths of the target helicopter as it flew between its base and Fort Myer. Alexey, together with the senior member of the FSB sleepers, had visited the buildings, confirming their suitability, including that each building was unoccupied. The task now for Alexey was to contact his fellow Russians and inform them of the building they needed to use as the launch site for the Strela missile. He called the local leader of the four-man FSB team on McCarr’s disposable cell phone. When he finished t
he call, he threw the phone away.
***
Chapter 15
SO15 delivered the package containing their unofficial weapons. To Mark’s delight, they were Glock 17s, four of them, plus ammunition. The firearm was a standard issue for the Metropolitan Police—at least, for those authorized to carry weapons. He kept one and handed a pistol each to Scott, Sera, and Anna. Reb was comfortable with merely her knives. He had also received a report containing the Counter Terrorism Command’s assessment of the property that he, Anna, and Reb were planning to visit later in the morning. There were no red flags raised by the details. The property, located south of the Thames, was over a hundred and fifty years old. It had been constructed with red bricks and slate tiles, and had been used for a range of purposes over its lifetime. Prior to its current use it had been owned by a small religious order that used it as a Bible study school. According to the report, the building now housed one or two adults and three teenagers.
Mark put the report aside and reflected on their plan for the day. Reb thought the children from the Welsh laboratory needed to be rescued but she had not indicated any pressing need for this action. On the surface the three children, with a maturity level of seventeen or so, were adequately cared for and not in any immediate danger. There was a chance his and Anna’s involvement might bring danger to them. He shivered. There was something…no, it was too elusive: he was unable to pin it down. He read through the report again. Nothing leapt out at him. He dropped it on the table beside his chair.
Anna joined him in the small sitting room adjacent to their bedroom. She had showered and dressed, ready for the morning’s activities. She smiled and placed her hand on the back of his neck.
“Still concerned about these children?” she asked.
“Yes, but I can’t seem to identify why I should be worried.”
Anna took the report from the table and read it. She looked at Mark when she finished. “There’s nothing to worry about here. All straightforward.”
“I know. I think that’s the problem. Reb says she wants us to rescue the children. But from what?”
“Is it her way of wanting these…pseudo-siblings, to be with her? She was with them through part of their early childhood and then she left them, traveling for years with little contact. Perhaps she has a guilt complex?”
“A valid assumption. Well, there’s only one thing to do. Visit them to see what their situation is. Breakfast first, though.”
~~~
It was like a small convoy, thought Reb, as three cars stopped outside the building where her young friends lived. Two vehicles contained Cerberus guards and she, Mark, and Anna were in the middle vehicle. She hoped it all would work out. Her friends had helped her discover Mark’s whereabouts in America and now she wanted to pay her debt by offering them a different home. Somewhere safer than this old religious school building.
London weather was doing its best to dampen everything and everyone, and their exit from the vehicles was hasty and rushed. Four people crowded under the overhang at the front door, while most of their Cerberus escort remained at or in the vehicles. Faded letters high along the front of the building announced its prior purpose although all that were legible now were the last two words reading BIBLE SCHOOL. Reb pressed the doorbell button and waited, concealing her impatience. After a long minute someone partially opened the door; the movement was restricted by a security chain.
“It’s me, Reb,” Reb said to the face revealed in the gap.
“Reb?” the voice was doubtful.
“Yes, Mrs. Grabski, it’s me, Reb.”
The door closed and Reb heard the rattle of the security chain. The door was then opened wide to reveal a large lobby area. It was institutional—despite the probable oak flooring underneath, the floor was covered with dark gray, almost black, linoleum, while the walls and ceiling were painted a doubtful white. The only decoration was a drooping dusty-leafed aspidistra in a large black pot, which sat on a wooden three-legged stand. The overhead lights were dim and the bulbs lacked shades. Mrs. Grabski wore a black dress, and her gray hair was bundled under a black scarf with a handful of threads escaping its boundaries. She wore no makeup and scuffed her worn slippers as she walked, leading them along the hallway. Reb, Mark, Anna and a Cerberus security guard followed.
Reb shuddered. She had developed an intense dislike of this place.
The housekeeper stopped at the end of the hall at a closed door and knocked. The response was undecipherable. She thrust open the door and announced, “Visitors.” She turned and walked back along the hallway.
A head popped into the doorway. “What—” It was a young girl, blond, slim build, wearing jeans and a sloppy shirt. She looked to be a young seventeen.
“Alright, butty?” Reb said. Her Welsh accent had strengthened.
A smile broke out on the girl’s face. “Reb,” she cried and rushed forward, enveloping Reb in an enthusiastic hug. “It’s you. You came back.”
At last the young girl released Reb. She stepped back and shouted into the room, “It’s totes amaze. Guess who!”
A young male voice replied, “We—and everyone in the building—heard you shout ‘Reb!’ so it must be the postie.”
Reb turned to her companions. “This is my friend. Carys, this is Mark and Anna. The lady there is our security escort; her name is Trina.” The young girl, suddenly shy, bobbed her head.
Another head appeared in the doorway. “It is Reb,” the boy said to someone else in the room. He stepped forward and hugged Reb. “We weren’t certain—I’m shattered.”
“This is Owen,” Reb said. Another face appeared and she added, “And Lewis.” Both boys were also blond and slimly built. The three children were obvious siblings. Reb pointed. “Mark, Anna, and Trina Neville. Can we come in?”
“Absolutely. Quick, Owen, tidy up.” Lewis turned to the visitors. “Everyone, please do come in. Reb, you’re a sight to see.” He led the way into a large room. It had been a classroom at one point in its life. It now contained four old settees and a scattering of chairs, there were small tables loaded with books, computer parts, and the occasional remnants of a sandwich on its wrapper or a half-empty coffee cup. A rack of computer equipment, servers, and bare processors with cables hanging untidily lined part of one wall. A coffee pot sat on a table in a corner of the room. Owen was quickly straightening pillows and removing food scraps from the tables. “This is our common room,” Lewis explained. He waved his hand. “We live in here, mostly, as you can tell.”
“Please sit,” Carys said. “Reb, why didn’t you warn us? Tell us what’s happening.”
Reb sat beside Carys and the two boys sat on an adjacent settee. Mark and Ann sat farther away, and Trina remained standing inside the doorway.
Reb said, “Not much, really. I was shot—” The outburst of rapid questions stopped her. She waved a hand and the noise subsided. “No, it wasn’t so serious. It’s just across the top of my shoulder. It’s still painful, though. It was the Chinese. They were trying to kill me.” The sudden hush was a marked contrast to the previous surge of shouted questions. Reb smiled. “I’m alright now. I have Mark and Anna and some other people looking after me, guarding me.”
“This is the person you were searching for? Your brother? Mark Midway?” Carys was hesitant with her question, still shy with so many strangers present.
“Yes, and Anna is his friend. Mark helped her escape an attack last year. There’re two young Cerberus children with us as well. They’re dears. Plus—I’ve lots to tell you.”
“Totes emoshe,” Owen whispered.
“Now we want you to think about moving out of here,” Reb said. “I know, it’s short notice. All of us are under threat of being killed. Mark was attacked two days ago by three Americans, we think. There are people who are trying to murder anyone who’s genetically engineered. That includes you as well. I—we—can protect you.”
The silence stretched to a minute or more. Reb looked at each face, gaug
ing their reactions. “I know, it’s not much in the way of advance notice.” She turned to her brother. “Mark?”
“I agree, currently we’re all at risk. If you remain here, we can’t protect you. Come with us and we’ll do our best.”
“We’ve lived here for years, now,” Lewis said. “Alright, it’s a bit of a drab place, but it’s been our home. What will happen if we move? Will we remain together, as a family? Can we still make a mess?” He pointed around the room. “Can we do our computer experiments?”
Mark smiled. “Yes to all. You should see my computer mess.”
Anna said, “His workroom is far worse than this, and he has drones, too, in pieces all over the floor.”
“Drones?” the three voices were in complete unison. Lewis said, “We’re totally into them. I’ve been trying to get money to buy one. The people here aren’t interested in helping.”
“But they care for you?” Anna asked. “Feed you? Give you some money?”
Lewis said, “They feed us. What’s left is only enough to buy clothes and some books. And a few computer components. No luxuries. I don’t think I’d class it as caring for us.” The other children nodded in agreement.
Mark said, “We can take you into our care, and I mean care. We’ll fund your education, through college and more, if you want. Provide protection. Whatever you need.”
Carys looked at Reb. “Is he for real?”
“Definitely.”
“Amaze balls,” said the two boys, their Welsh accents strong. Carys smiled.
***
Chapter 16
The militia convoy, five vehicles with three men to each vehicle, halted along the road leading to the heavily chained and barred gate. It was only minutes after sunrise and the sun cast elongated shadows across the half-melted snow along the side of the road. A man exited the lead vehicle, a Dodge Ram 3500, black and threatening, and spent three or four minutes examining the gate. His breath was visible in the morning air. He walked to the rear of the Dodge and sorted through his equipment, selected a small slab of C4, a wireless detonator, and the matching transmitter. He spoke for a moment with the driver of the lead vehicle. Seconds later all the vehicles in the convoy reversed fifty yards or so. The man returned to the gate and placed the explosive in position. He inserted the detonator and backed off to stand next to the lead vehicle. He pressed the button on the transmitter.
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