by Kim McMahill
As suspected, Coterie was enraged to learn the data survived, which made Frank furious with the sniveling scientist who had waited too long to complete the job. Frank’s objectives hadn’t changed, but now the desired results would be more difficult to achieve… locate and destroy the data along with all living things capable of replicating the experiments or validating the results.
The kicker, as he saw it, was with the annoying twist relayed to him by his contact. Until all the players were rounded up and dealt with, she had ordered him, in no uncertain terms, to secure the irritating academic, claiming the specific instruction had come from higher up. Frank felt certain it was far safer and more efficient to simply remove the scientist from the equation, but he wasn’t being paid to think, only to follow instructions.
Entering his luxury apartment in an obscure, nondescript, yet lavishly renovated downtown warehouse, Frank quickly assessed what he’d need to complete the job. He laid out the clothing and outerwear he needed to function in harsh conditions. His hi-tech, cold weather fabrics were plenty warm and lightweight enough to restrict his movements as little as possible.
Setting his duffle on the bed, he loaded it with night vision goggles, a flashlight, extra batteries, two-way radios, chloroform and plastic ties for restraining uncooperative individuals, and anything else that might prove useful. Next to the duffle he placed the items he would carry on his body, the deadly switchblade he’d confiscated from a former rival nearly a decade ago, and his Sig P229. After thoroughly checking the condition and readiness of each piece of equipment, he was satisfied he would be prepared for any unforeseen problems in his plan.
As he methodically went through the process of organizing logistics for the mission, his thoughts honed in on Grace Talbot. She was turning into a serious problem which complicated matters considerably. He couldn’t afford any more screw ups, so he’d head north and deal with her in person as soon as he finished up in his current location. More often than not, if he wanted something done right, he had to do it himself.
You just can’t get good help these days, he mused.
According to the report he’d gotten from his men, Sam and Vince, in Wyoming, they had been unable to verify if any of the target items had been destroyed in the fire. They had been interrupted by a tough old rancher while searching the barn for the animals, supplements, and records, and were forced to subdue him. The blow to the head killed the ranch hand, so after being unable to locate any of the items they were looking for, they torched the barn, hoping to make his death look like an accident.
Before they could search the house or other outbuildings, another guy showed up, and after dealing with him they knew they had to get out of the area before some kindly neighbor or law enforcement spotted the smoke and came to investigate. The next day, when they tried to return, they got stuck on the slick road leading to the ranch. A couple of good old boys stopped and helped them out of the snow bank, but they had to turn back, preventing them from once again investigating.
“Accident,” Frank huffed as he pulled his ammo box out from the hidden, built-in wall safe. The men had used a kerosene lantern from the survival gear they had purchased prior to their outing to ignite the hay stacked in the barn. If there wasn’t already a similar lantern on the place, then the incident wouldn’t look like an accident at all. He only hoped the fire burned hot enough to destroy the lantern, but nothing could be done about the stupid mistake now.
He took what he needed from the box, locked it, and returned the unneeded ammo to the safe. He added the boxed ammo to his duffle and placed the extra magazines next to his gun and knife. If Frank wasn’t so angry, he’d have to laugh. He’d never witnessed such a comedy of errors. But this wasn’t slapstick, it was his profession, and at the moment he wasn’t coming off very professionally to his biggest client.
Damage control was not easy in his line of work. It wasn’t like he could advertise, donate to charity, or conduct a publicity campaign to repair his image. Business was generated by word of mouth, and if an employee or freelancer failed, he or she was booted back to the bottom of the feeding chain.
If they were lucky.
Then a person was forced to do low paying menial jobs until one could prove he or she deserved another shot at the prime cuts. If lady luck refused to smile, then he or she would spend the rest of his or her days perfecting the art of home hair coloring, looking over a person’s shoulder, and waiting for an orchestrated accident or a well-placed bullet to end it all.
He was at least thankful Sam and Vince had enough sense to finally cut their losses, get out of sight, and call for instructions. He ordered the two men to ditch the vehicle they’d been spotted in, procure new transportation and a few necessary pieces of equipment, and then lay low until he arrived.
Normally Frank would have fired them for botching the job, but they had been to the ranch several times already so they possessed knowledge that could come in handy. They were already on site, which would facilitate the quick actions needed to salvage the job as soon as everything else was in place.
Once his handler had informed their boss of the failed experiment’s potential, all the scientists involved had been followed to gather information. It had only taken Sam and Vince one surveillance operation to discover the animals at the supposedly secure Uinta Vitamin and Nutrition’s research facility were decoys, and a few intercepted phone calls between Grace and her uncle revealed the real test subjects were hidden away on a remote ranch in Wyoming.
From there, it should have been an easy operation, but seldom did assignments go as planned, so he might as well quit stewing about inept hired help, deal with the errors, and finish the job as quickly as possible before anything else went wrong.
It was a shame that wouldn’t happen as fast as he’d like.
Frank itched to get on the road. He had a bad feeling in his gut about this operation. Unfortunately, his trip north would have to wait until he took care of a little business. With one last check of his gear and weapons, Frank grabbed his keys, checked his watch, and left the apartment.
Chapter Eleven
As much as Grace ached to go to her uncle, she really needed a day to develop a routine and figure out a way to juggle her job and the ranch work. Dialing the hospital, she waited patiently until Moss’s weak and scratchy voice came over the line.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Fine. All I need is to get out of here and go home,” he insisted.
“I fear you wouldn’t tell me even if you weren’t. I wish I were there. If I could only see your face, I’d know if you were telling me the truth or not.”
“I’d rather have you there taking care of the ranch than sitting up here staring at me and worrying about my sorry behind.”
Despite the obvious fatigue and discomfort in his voice, his ornery attitude reassured her he would live and was on the mend. Grace kept the call short, not wanting to tire her uncle, and she still needed to do chores.
After feeding the animals, Grace set up her computer and logged in through the satellite link she had installed at the ranch the previous summer. Her inbox was full, mostly with messages from her two colleagues, Kathleen Parker and Jonah Hausner. Both were concerned about her abrupt departure and offered well wishes for a quick resolution to her family emergency.
Clearly Dr. Clark had spared them the details, and they were merely curious. Kathleen asked her to call if she needed anything or someone to talk to, but Jonah seemed more interested in how the blood samples would be taken at the stock farm in her absence and how long she’d be gone. Ignoring Jonah’s inquiries, she scrolled through the numerous messages from Dr. Stephen Clark. All flashed, “urgent” and simply read, “call ASAP.”
Grace rubbed her temples. She knew he was under incredible pressure from their company to submit their final report and sign off on their findings. Like her, Stephen was uncomfortable proceeding forward without a longer test period to assess long-term side effects. Much of what
the researchers did at UVN was classified, but her team’s latest project had morphed into something she never dreamed of when she’d turned her love of animals and advanced degrees into a career.
The possible implications of her current research on human health and economics were frightening. She didn’t focus on the economic part, since it was mind-boggling in scope and scale and well outside her area of expertise. She was only concerned about having valid scientific evidence to support their product. She still lacked the confidence in its transition to humans and its long-term safe consumption.
Knowing Stephen was probably taking additional heat for her untimely departure and stressing himself almost to the point of a nervous breakdown, she picked up the phone and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring.
“Why haven’t you called? I was worried sick.”
“Ah, the joys of caller ID,” Grace said as she was abruptly greeted without so much as a “hello.” “I’ve only been gone about forty-eight hours, and I’ve had a lot to deal with here.”
“Sorry, that was very insensitive of me. How are your uncle and Charlotte?”
“My uncle woke up yesterday. He’s in a lot of pain, but he is going to live. The doctor believes he’ll make a full recovery with no permanent damage aside from considerable scarring from his burns. He sustained a head injury. So far, other than a nasty lump and a concussion, they’ve found no other associated problems from his closed head injury, but the doctors are watching him closely.
“I haven’t talked to him about Butch’s death yet, but I’m sure it will take him even longer to heal from the emotional damage than the physical. As for Charlotte, she suffered no specific injuries from the incident, but something’s not quite right.
“Moss had moved her in with the others ahead of a big storm so she’d have the ability to huddle with her sty-mates, which clearly saved her life. She is acting a little lethargic, and her coloring is a bit off. It may be nothing, but I’ll keep you posted. I’ll be anxious to see the results of her next blood workup.”
“I guess we should be relieved. How long did she and the others go without food? How much of a setback do we have?”
Grace knew Stephen was expressing his relief over Charlotte rather than her uncle, and wasn’t even thinking of Butch, but under the circumstances she wasn’t offended.
“Moss has been emailing me the encrypted weight and feeding logs weekly, so I’m missing five days of data. We’ve only been doing blood work every thirty days, and I was due to make a quick trip to the ranch to take care of the draw next weekend, so we’re still on schedule there.
“I haven’t located his data logs and assume they burned with the barn, but there’s no reason to suspect he deviated from the schedule. Hopefully he’ll be up to talking tomorrow when I go see him, and then we’ll know for sure.”
“Well, I don’t know what else we can do for now. The higher ups don’t know about your sudden leave of absence for a family emergency yet, but I’m not sure how long I can avoid telling them, especially Janice.
“She stopped by to let me know that she bought us another thirty days, but I wasn’t comforted by our exchange. I can’t quite put my finger on why the good news felt like a kick in the gut, or why her order to report directly only to her, feels wrong.
“I’ve worked for Hugh for a couple of decades, so I feel like I’m going behind his back. But, compared to all the corporate policies I’ve broken when it comes to this project, I’m not sure why I’m having an ethical dilemma over that one.”
Grace did her best to absorb everything Stephen said. She should be thrilled with the extension, but like Stephen, she felt something was off.
Why would Janice support them while Hugh pushed for moving forward with no regard to potential consequences? Hugh’s motivation was familiar to her and obvious, quick profits, but what drove Janice to battle Hugh?
“That’s good news, I think, and I’m so sorry about putting you in this position. I don’t expect you to lie for me, but since management doesn’t know about Charlotte, they won’t understand why this trip was essential from more than a personal standpoint, which they’ve never considered a high priority. If we fess up, you and I are in a real mess.”
“What’s done is done. For now, I assured her everything is under control and proceeding as planned, so just get the blood samples to Kathleen and Jonah on the usual schedule. I pray we don’t find any anomalies, since we won’t know whether the stress at the ranch or a problem with the product is to blame.”
“The thought crossed my mind, too, so we’ll just have to wait and see. I’ll ship the samples to your home, but you’ll have to make it look like you went to the research farm and collected them yourself. Jonah’s pretty concerned about the samples, so tell him you’ll take care of the collections until I return.”
“Good call,” Stephen said as the line abruptly went silent.
Grace could picture Stephen running his fingers through his thinning gray hair. She hated what this project was doing to her team, but mostly to Stephen. Buying time with UVN’s CEO, Hugh Miller, and having to ally with the cold, emotionless, and intimidating Vice President for Product Development, Janice Green, was killing him.
The seemingly failed experiment had mixed responses from the rest of the group. Kathleen was disappointed by the apparent negative results. She was young and idealistic, and had hoped to save the world, but she had already started another project which, as usual, quickly consumed her energy. Jonah was always all business. He wanted to make a name for himself. He’d been gung ho at first, thinking of the publicity the successful outcome would generate, but he hadn’t expressed the same level of disappointment as Kathleen, Stephen, and Grace when they were forced to admit failure.
“Grace, was it an accident?” Stephen asked, finally breaking the silence.
She feared it wasn’t, but until the investigation concluded, she vowed not to let her imagination run away with her. First, no one knew about Charlotte’s role except for her and Stephen. One of Grace’s primary responsibilities in the project was to conduct the animal trials, monitoring and analyzing how the supplements were being digested and metabolized. She had led her two colleagues to believe she was utilizing their usual stock farm research facility.
Grace had even gone to the extent to keep three more “control subjects” there to perpetuate the ruse and to see if those animals fared any differently than the two “controls” at the ranch, testing whether environment affected weight gain even if the diet was identical. Her uncle knew only she was trying out a new supplement, and he would never tell anyone even that much, since he was aware of the necessity for secrecy in her line of work.
Moss had housed animals a number of times in the past which had worked very well, preventing interference from corporate spies, and so far no one had looked in a remote Wyoming ranch for a potential gold mine.
“That’s the initial assessment, but the investigation is still ongoing. The county fire warden was here yesterday, but he didn’t say much. I pray the fire was an accident, because if it wasn’t, I don’t know if I can live with the guilt.”
The line once again fell silent. What could Stephen say to diffuse the truth? Even though Grace had kept animals at the ranch often, this was the first time so much was at stake. They primarily worked on vitamin supplements, so results were generally either no change in the animals’ health or some degree of improvement, nothing earth-shattering or detrimental to the animals.
When they had started the project, it was small scale in scope. Grace and her colleagues had become intrigued with the possible humanitarian potential. Once she and Stephen realized what they were on to, too much time had already been invested to turn back. They were several years into the project, and Charlotte had been taking the enzyme supplements and the control pigs had been fed the exact diet without the supplements for over eight months.
“Well, don’t beat yourself up yet, and get back to me the second you find out. If
it wasn’t an accident, I’ll have to confess to Hugh and Janice. They’ll want to bring the animals to the research facility and hire security.
“I’m not excited about the prospect of coming clean, since we’ll both be fired for breaking protocol and keeping test subjects at an offsite, unsecured location, even though that has proven to be the best way to keep our secrets. In the past, the more security we’ve hired, the more information has leaked.
“Selling information to the competition has always been much more lucrative than being a security guard, and it’s nearly impossible to find someone money can’t buy nowadays. I’ll check in every day. I promise to try and not get too down on myself until we know the facts. Get some sleep, Stephen. You sound tired.”
She hung up the phone, slumped in her chair and closed her eyes. Where had she crossed the line? How did such positive work turn so negative? She loved animals and studied nutrition in the hope of developing products to aid pets in living healthier lives, and sometimes she found ways to make the ranching industry more efficient while meeting the needs of the consumer. Either way she felt good about her contribution.
Grace had been working on a digestive enzyme to help animals more efficiently break down indigestible or poor quality food, absorb the nutrients, stimulate the immune system, and gain weight. She had gotten a government grant for the project to find out if the desired enzyme could be modified for human consumption, cheaply mass produced, and used to help people in third world countries get more nutritional value out of poor quality foods.
She and her partners hadn’t achieved the sought-after results, but as far as Hugh Miller was concerned, they had stumbled on to something far better. The enzyme helped in the digestion of all foods tested, though didn’t improve the immune system as hoped, and so far Charlotte had slowly lost weight no matter what she was fed or how much.
If proven safe, the resulting product would devastate the multi-billion dollar diet product industry and make the UVN stockholders very wealthy. So Hugh was pushing Dr. Clark to sign off, but he and Grace were convinced they needed much more time to monitor the results and verify the product’s safety. They still didn’t know how much weight could be lost, what would happen when the digestive enzyme consumption was discontinued, how it would translate to humans, or if there were any long-term side effects.