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Kindle Series 3-Book Bundle: A Genetic Engineering Science Fiction Thriller Series

Page 54

by Orrin Jason Bradford


  That gave Mimi two important points to connect: Snowshoe, West Virginia and Madame Sarrah who was also from West Virginia. It didn’t take long after arriving in Snowshoe to find out where the former Madame Sarrah had lived. Mimi had heard a variety of different stories about how Madame Sarrah had died. The only consistent points were that it probably had something to do with fire and it had been a gruesome death.

  That news probably should have had her reconsidering this whole crazy assignment, but it only served to intrigue her that much more. Mimi was no stranger to unusual and often gruesome murders. For example, there was the brutal killing of the founder of Biogentrix near her home in the neighboring town of Waynesboro. ** [Footnote: As chronicled in FreeForm.] And how about those mummified corpses discovered in the dining room of the Grace House Bed and Breakfast on the outskirts of Foster Flat. ** [Footnote: As chronicled in Fantastic Fables of Foster Flat.] No, gruesome and unusual murders were right in Global Inquiry’s wheelhouse of stories that increased circulation. And as her boss always said, increasing circulation is really the name of the game in the rag business.

  Still, she’d have to tread lightly on this assignment. No one seemed to know, for sure, who had murdered the old lady, though many of the local folks she talked to seemed to think it was one of her children that had done her in. That was just one more juicy detail for her story if she could verify that fact, or even if she couldn’t. Her boss wasn’t nearly as picky about the difference between facts and speculation as her superior had been at the Journal.

  “So, I’ll tread lightly,” she said softly as she gathered herself to return to her VW bug, parked down the hill.

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” another voice answered, making Mimi almost jump out of her skin. As she turned around, she came face-to-face with a teenage boy standing a few yards away with one of the largest shotguns Mimi had ever seen. She was no stranger to such guns. Her Uncle Bo was an avid hunter back in Waynesboro, and she’d accompanied him many times. But this gun was different. Guns pointed at your heart tended to grow in size and significance.

  Rendezvous

  Thaddeus Chickowski sat in the corner booth of Nick’s Bar & Grill watching the front door. The fake mustache made his upper lip itch and the dark glasses made the already dark interior that much darker. The front door opened for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. Nick’s was never known to be the hottest place in town, which was why Chickowski used it for such meetings. A woman walked through the door and started towards the rear of the bar without a moment’s hesitation.

  Was that her, Chickowski wondered? He glanced over the sunglasses in an effort to get a better look as a woman with slender figure wearing a tight fitting black dress strolled confidently in his direction. She still looks pretty good for an old broad, Chickowski thought, then wondered if it might not be his failing eyesight fooling him once again. As Miriam Petty approached, he began to pick up more details; the graying roots of her hair, the crow’s feet around her eyes, the slightly sagging breasts too large and heavy to be completely supported by the bra.

  That’s okay. She’s still good in bed. Besides, he wasn’t looking all that good these days. Like his mom often said, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “Oh, how cute,” Petty said as she stood looking down at him. “Who you pretending to be, Groucho Marx?”

  “Sit down Miriam,” Chickowski whispered as he glanced around. “I’m a wanted man, remember?”

  Miriam snickered as she slid into the booth across from him, placing the matching black purse in the seat beside her. “Well, I’ve been wanting you for the past couple weeks, but it didn’t seem to make any difference as far as I can tell. Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

  “Sorry, I just had to lay low for a while to let things cool off a bit. You want anything?” he asked as the waitress approached their table.

  Miriam pointed to the drink in front of him. “Gin and tonic? Any good?”

  Chickowski nodded twice.

  “Okay, I’ll have one too.”

  “Give us two more of these,” Chickowski told the waitress who turned back to the bar.

  Miriam reached over and pulled the mustache off Chickowki’s lip before he could stop her. “Take that silly thing off,” she said. “It makes you look twenty years older, and believe me, you don’t need to be adding any age to your looks. I might lose interest.”

  The two of them sat in silence for a couple minutes as they waited for their drinks. After they arrived and the waitress had retreated to her corner of the bar, Chickowski smiled and tipped his glass at his companion.

  “Here’s mud in your eye,” he said as he took a long swallow, draining half the glass.

  “Never did understand that toast,” Miriam said as she took a sip from her own glass.

  “What did you want to see me about, other than wanting to climb my bones?” Chickowski asked.

  “Don’t be gross, Thaddeus,” Miriam answered but the gleam in her eyes that let him know she wasn’t all that grossed out by the comment.

  “As a matter of fact, there is another reason I wanted to see you besides the obvious. I want to propose a partnership.”

  Chickowski played with the ice in his drink, twirling it around with the swizzle stick. “That’s a little hard to believe,” he finally answered. “My luck hasn’t been going all that well lately, as you well know; so why in the world would you be interested in such an arrangement?”

  “No, it hasn’t,” Miriam agreed, “but it’s about to change.”

  “How so?”

  “I want you to get back in touch with your overseas contact. I believe his name is Mr. Brown.”

  “Why in hell would I want to talk to that double-crossing S.O.B.? He tried to kill me.”

  “Oh really, Thaddeus, holding a grudge is so unbecoming on you, especially considering how important Mr. Brown is to our future partnership.”

  Miriam reached into her purse and pulled out a small vial about half full with a light blue liquid, placing it on the table between them.

  Willow glanced around the spacious bedroom suite that had become her home away from home since joining the Sheik’s payroll. Her space had all the amenities of a luxury suite one might find in the finest hotels, even though this one was in a wing of the Sheik’s reproduction of Falcon Lair. The original Falcon Lair had been purchased by the silent movie star, Rudolph Valentino, in 1925 and was located on four acres of prime real estate in Beverly Hills, California.

  The Sheik’s Falcon Lair was also on four acres of even more prime real estate as part of the Falconcity of Wonders on the outskirts of Dubai in the United Arab Emirates. The Sheik had used the sizable influence he’d acquired, by marrying the sister of one of the ruling families of Dubai, to get permission to build his reproduction of Falcon Lair. Of course, it was far from the only or even the most prestigious reproduction. Others that were in process of being built included the Eiffel Tower, the pyramids, and the Tower of Pisa, as well as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. So, all things considered, Falcon Lair was a fairly modest home and Willow’s abode a drop in the bucket of opulence that surrounded her.

  Willow walked over to the full size refrigerator to get a glass of water. It was time to take another dose of her medication the Sheik’s physician had placed her on after she returned from her last mission. It seemed to be slowly working. It had been at least twenty-four hours since she’d coughed up blood, and though it was still painful to take a deep breath, the doctor assured her there’d be no permanent injury.

  Besides, the painful breathing helped to hone her hatred for the young boy who’d somehow caused her so much pain. It kept reminding her that she had a debt to pay and a mission to complete. She was just downing the last pill and finishing off the glass of cold water when she heard a light rapping on her door.

  “Come in, but only if you have good news to report,” Willow said as she walked back over to her desk.

  There was a momentary paus
e before Widget entered the room, a broad smile on his face. “Just so happens I do have good news for you on this fine morning.”

  “Please, not so much exuberance. It’s too early in the morning for that.”

  “Okay, sorry,” Widget replied, more subdued but still with a smile on his face. “We’ve found him…I mean, them.”

  “That is good news,” Willow said turning around to meet his gaze. “So, you were able to track him down through the rental car?”

  “That’s right, just like you suggested,” Widget replied. “They drove to West Virginia, near a ski resort where they turned in the car. I’ve had a couple guys asking around town. It appears the boy returned to his old home where he’s been hiding out since we last saw him.”

  “Excellent, get the rest of the team together. I want to be in West Virginia by this time tomorrow. We’ve a few loose ends to tie up.”

  Chickowski stared at the vial with the blue liquid for several seconds before finally locking eyes with Miriam Petty.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Yes,” Miriam answered simply. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

  “But how?” Chickowski started then stopped and stared back down at the vial. “How did you ever come into its possession?”

  Miriam smiled. “Oh, you men are all alike. You think just because a woman is a secretary, even if she’s the executive secretary of a highly influential man like Franklin Pruitt, that we don’t have a brain of our own when in fact, such a position gives a perfect cover.”

  She picked up her drink and took a couple sips before continuing. “I’ve kept my eyes and ears open for years while being virtually invisible to most of the people at Bio Vita. After all, I’m just a secretary. What does a secretary know? Well, I’ll tell you what this secretary knows. I know a highly valuable piece of research when I hear about it, and it’s right there in front of you.”

  Chickowski picked up the vial and held it up to take a closer look. “So this is what all the fuss is about? Lionel told me someone stole it.”

  “I told you that your luck was about to change. That’s my part interest in the partnership.”

  “I see,” Chickowski replied as he continued to study the blue liquid. “And my part is to negotiate the sell to Mr. Brown’s boss. But why should I put you in touch with him when I’ve got what he wants right here in my hand?” Chickowski asked as he closed his hand around the vial, smiling smugly at her.

  “Because, you idiot, that vial in your hand isn’t the real thing. Do you think I’d be foolish enough to bring it with me to this public place and to let you put your grubby hands on it? No, I have the real template in a secure location.”

  Miriam picked up her gin and tonic and finished it off.

  “Listen to me, Thaddeus, dear. I’m not going to double-cross you, nor will I allow you to do the same to me. Is that understood?”

  Chickowski nodded, a sheepish look on his face.

  “Now, order us another round of drinks while I go powder my nose, and then later I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

  “And afterwards?” Chickowski asked.

  “Let’s just see how the evening unfolds.”

  Strategy Meeting

  Damba reached into the plexiglass container to retrieve the change from the taxicab driver.

  “Leave it,” Alp said. “It’s customary to leave a tip.”

  “Oh, yeah, of course,” Damba replied. “I forgot about that.” He removed his hand and placed it instead on Alp’s hand on the seat between them.

  “You ready?” He asked, patting her hand gently and reassuringly.

  “No, not really.” She glanced out the window to the quaint bungalow home. The number of the mailbox matched the directions Flip had given her. He’d offered to pick them up at the airport, but Alp wanted to prove to her father that she could handle the trip from D. C. to Lionel’s home all by herself…well, accompanied by Damba. It was important to her that her father and his friends saw Damba and her as equals, or at least as close to that as possible. But now, suddenly, she was nervous about meeting them, even though over the past two weeks they’d had numerous conversations by phone. She felt like she knew each of the other members of the rescue team pretty well. Still, meeting in person was another matter entirely.

  “It’ll be all right, Alp,” Damba said as he gave her hand a final squeeze. “I’ll be with you the entire time, and I won’t let you out of my sight. Remember, we’re in this together.”

  He opened the taxi door on his side and walked around to help her out. In the meantime, the taxi driver had retrieved their sparse luggage from the trunk and set it on the curb; one medium size suitcase for each of them, compliments of a last minute purchase at a nearby Walmart by Chunk and Lucinda Robinson.

  Damba picked up the two bags and with a nod to Alp, they walked slowly up the sidewalk to Lionel’s front door. Alp stood in front of the door for several more seconds as she took a few deep breaths in an effort to slow the rapid beating of her heart. These are my friends, she told herself. They’re going to help me get my sisters back. There; that felt better.

  “Well, here goes,” she said as she pushed the doorbell.

  As she stood there waiting for the door to open, her heightened hearing picked up a few soft voices and rustling on the other side. She’d noticed lately that all her senses seemed to be more sensitive: her hearing, her sight, even her taste buds seemed to pick up nuances of flavors that she’d previously not recognized. Was this part of her growing into an adult? Did all people experiences such changes or just those born as the Kindred? For that matter, were her sisters experiencing a similar change? She wanted to reach out to them and ask, but so far she’d been unsuccessful reconnecting with any of them psychically, which made this meeting today that much more important.

  Then the door opened, and Lionel stood before her. She recognized him from their previous meeting at Bio Vita Tech. It had only been a few weeks ago but in some ways it felt like a year or more had passed. So much water had passed under the bridge in such a short time. Still, it felt good to see a familiar face.

  “Hello, Alp. It’s so good to see you again,” Lionel said. “Welcome to my home. Please, come in, and this must be your friend, Damba. Here, let me help you with those bags. My, you two travel light.”

  It was apparent to Alp that Lionel was at least as nervous as she was, which strangely made her more comfortable.

  “We’ve all been looking forward to this,” Lionel said as he took one of the bags from Damba and escorted them through the small foyer area into the living room. “Let me make the introductions.”

  He pointed to two young women who’d been sitting on the overstuffed sofa together who were now rising as one and walking over to her. “This is Bridgette Baisley, Heather’s mom,” he said pointing to the attractive blonde. The introductions were hardly necessary. Alp could see the strong resemblance of both women with her two sisters, Heather and Mia.

  “It’s so good to finally meet you,” Bridgette said as she gave Alp a hug.

  “And as you’ve probably already guessed, this is Denise Cabbot; Mia’s mother.”

  “Yes, I see where Mia gets her beautiful eyes,” Alp replied as she accepted a hug from Denise as well.

  “And this is my friend, Damba.”

  As pleasantries were exchanged, Alp glanced around the room. It was a small house, and obviously set up more for a bachelor, although there were a few touches that suggested that Bridgette was already starting to influence their shared space.

  Alp was about to ask about her father when she heard a clunking sound coming from the other room, and then a door swung open as Flip made his way clumsily through the doorway, leaning heavily on a cane. He shuffled through the door, dragging his right leg with a pronounced limp.

  “Hello my dear,” he said as he slowly made his way towards her. “I so wanted to be able to meet you again without that infernal wheelchair, but I’m afraid, this cane isn’
t much better.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Denise said as she rushed over to give him a hand. “You’ve made tremendous progress in the last couple of weeks. Healing takes time.”

  “Well, not where this young lady is concerned,” Flip said with a smile as he reached out with his free hand and embraced Alp with a strong arm. “It might be time to schedule another session with you soon, Alp.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged,” Alp replied with a warm smile. “I’m at your service.”

  “Let’s all take a seat,” Lionel said as he winked at his old friend. “I told you she’d be happy to help out.”

  “Pat’s just finishing up a few dishes,” Flip replied as he took a seat in the wheelchair next to the sofa, and patted the sofa arm so that Denise would join him. “She shooed me out of the kitchen. Said you couldn’t afford me breaking any more dishes. I told her I had a new set on order for your wedding present, but she shooed me out anyway.”

  “I know we’re a bit cramped here, but I felt like it was the safest place to meet. I just don’t think it’s safe for us to meet at Bio Vita Tech these days. Too many snooping eyes and ears. Pat has assured me that we’re bug free here.”

  “That’s right. I scanned the area late last night just to be sure,” an attractive older lady said as she entered the room still drying her hands with a dish towel. “Hello, Alp. Pat Vogt here. A pleasure to meet you.” She stuck out her hand and the two shook. Alp felt the firm, strong grip of a woman who knew her own strengths, both physical and otherwise. Alp instantly liked her. Here was a woman who knew how to get things done; a powerful woman of action.

 

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