by D. Henbane
“What is option three?” Cox asks.
“There isn’t a third... I was hoping you would choose the first two. Since you opted out, we are going with the back-up plan.” I reply.
“What is the back-up plan, Haus?” Cox says.
“I don’t have one, I was hoping that you would have a change of heart and not call my bluff. So, I am officially out of ideas here.” I say.
“I think that we need to learn more about this outreach program that Trixie has. It is our best bet at finding an answer to this mess.” Cox replies.
My stomach turns at the thought of going to see Trixie, but the gravity of the situation keeps me in check. We head out of the lab and soon arrive at her office. I think maybe we should knock, but Cox just bursts into her office. Trixie looks up from her laptop and gives me a seductive smile. “What can I help you with, gentlemen?” She asks.
“We want to know about your outreach program, and more specifically, Rosa Verdes.” Cox demands.
“I heard about her suicide... A real tragedy, but it happens, nothing anyone can do.” Trixie replies.
“We don’t believe it was a suicide, Trixie.” I exclaim.
“Oh, really? I suppose you think there was some foul play involved? Let me tell you something soldier. A woman with her past would have welcomed to leave this world. Whether it was by nature's own course or by her own means, doesn’t matter.” Trixie snaps back.
“It does matter! More than you could ever know.” I reply.
“Excuse me, soldier? I will remind you that you are speaking to your superior officer, and you might want to word things differently next time. My outreach program is designed to help women who never had a chance to start with. I offer women with little or no education an opportunity to be self-sufficient. More often than I would like to admit, they are victims of sexual abuse. More disturbing and even more common place, they are victims of physical abuse. Sure, the jobs I place them in aren’t the highest paying, but they can at least support themselves and find some sense of normalcy. The next time you want to call me out about one of my employees, maybe you should read the file.” Trixie slides a folder across her desk to Haus.
I open the folder and see a clearly well-worn photograph of Rosa. She appears much younger, and it's obvious that the photo was taken using very outdated equipment. Had I not known better, I would have guessed the photo to be taken during the 50's. I flip through the pages of Rosa's file. One of three children, two brothers, and the only girl in the house. Her mother died giving birth to her and stated that her father molested her as early as age six.
Father sells her to a drug cartel at age nine because she couldn’t work for a living like her brothers. At age 11, she was sent to work as a sex slave at a border town brothel. She was assaulted, violently, many times with one event leading to her left ear being cut off. At age 16, she tried to run away but was unsuccessful. In order to prevent any further escape, they forced her to inject heroine. Soon, she became an addict, and as her addiction grew, she no longer wanted to leave.
At age 19, she was sent to deal with a wealthy client, and had earned a reputation of being willing to do anything. Once she arrived, the client was very upset. He had specifically asked for a clean girl and it was obvious by her track marks that she was far from clean. The client saw something in her and arranged to purchase her outright. He took her back to the states and sent her to a fancy rehab. After several failed trips to rehab, her wealthy sponsor threw her into the street.
“A good friend of mine called me one day. He is a social worker in Texas. They found her in the middle of the desert suffering from dehydration and malnutrition. They estimated she hadn’t eaten in two weeks, and, at best, two days without water. She was recovering in the hospital when he called, and he told me she was a perfect candidate for me. Once I heard her story, it made perfect sense to me. I brought her on board and she has been a model worker since. Once we got her on drugs to deal with her mental illness, she turned ship very quickly.” Trixie says.
“That is a very tragic story commander, but I believe her to be infected with a deadly virus. The same virus I was working to clone. She was in the area that she could easily become infected, and I can't help but shake this feeling that her death wasn’t a suicide.” Cox says.
“Are you blind, doctor? She was a severely disturbed woman and suicide was well within her range of normal. Besides, you still haven’t been able to clone the virus yet. So, why would you be so concerned about infection? Unless you are hiding something from me, doctor?” Trixie asks.
“I am not hiding anything, but I still want to get samples of her blood for testing.” Cox demands.
“It's not gonna happen doctor... She hasn’t refilled her prescriptions in over a month, and it's very clear to everyone but you that she committed suicide. I realize that all of this has set you two on edge. Why don’t you take the day off to get your ducks in a row. See you tomorrow boys.” Trixie's tone of voice changes from kind to angry.
“Commander, I need samples of that woman’s blood!” Cox demands.
“GO HOME! I won't say it again, and if I need to emphasize it any further... Consider that a direct order, and get the hell out of my office!” Trixie yells. I grab Cox's arm and force him out the door. Cox is red in the face and beyond angry. I continue to keep a firm grip on his wrist as I march us to the parking lot. We arrive at his parking space and Cox turns on me.
“What was that, captain do good? You preach to me about doing the right thing and then you help the evil bitch by escorting me out of her office! You owe me an explanation Haus, and I want it now!” Cox demands.
“I wasn’t helping her... I was helping you. She is fully convinced that she committed suicide and nothing you were going to say would change her mind. I got you out of there because you were one step away from indicting yourself. If I would have given you thirty more seconds, you would have said that you cloned the virus, and both of us would be screwed.” I explain.
“Now that I have had some time to cool down a bit, I realize that you are in fact right. We need to rethink this a bit, and we need to regroup. Let's head back to my apartment and try to sort this mess out.” Cox says.
CHAPTER NINE
The Perfect Storm
We enter Cox's apartment and immediately head to his bedroom closet. Cox grabs the Styrofoam cooler and places it in front of me. The stainless steel container inside looks like a coffee thermos, but I know that it contains the virus with liquid nitrogen. Cox unscrews the lid and gently lifts the frozen vials. The white vapor of the nitrogen bubbles over the container evaporating into the air.
“See Haus, everything is just fine. I know you might be hesitant of it, but cryopreservation is very safe. When done correctly, the nitrogen lowers the temperature to a point where cell reproduction doesn’t occur. In fact, top scientists believe a sample could be kept in cryopreservation for a thousand years. We have enough liquid nitrogen to keep it safe for over a year.” Cox says.
“That’s not really comforting me, doc. Just put it back in the closet and let's get a battle plan together.” I say.
“I am concerned about the infection rate of the virus. I have no real data about its ability to transfer from one host to another. It seems to me that the initial infected kills the others off before there is a chance to spread the disease. Then again, that is on a small scale and not subject to real world conditions.” Cox says.
“Doc, I don’t wanna be that guy in this situation but I kind of need to be. We need concrete evidence here and you're worried about data. Do you see how out of touch you really are with the real world?” I ask.
“I am not out of touch! I am just curious, that’s all.” Cox exclaims.
“Look, it's Friday night, you ain’t gotta work at your jobby job. Time to get your drunk on!” I say in my best impersonation of Ebonics. Cox looks at me in total disbelief. “Besides, isn’t it high time for you to go see Angela?” That was all it took for the good docto
r. The Virus of Doom was quickly placed back in its Styrofoam coffin, and we were out the door in minutes. We pulled up to the Ringneck Roost, the parking lot was packed as usual. Every redneck within a hundred miles was there for their famous all you can eat buffet. Cox and I step inside to enjoy the best the Midwest has to offer.
“Glad to see you boys again.” Angela greets us warmly and shows us to our table near the bar. “The usual, doc?” She asks jokingly.
“Of course, my dear.” Cox says affectionately.
“What can I get you boys to drink?” Angela asks.
“Flying Dutchmen, and keep them coming. I reply.
“What would you like to eat, Haus? The buffet is on special.” Angela asks.
“Thank you sunshine, but I am drinking my dinner tonight. I might get hungry later, but I thank you for the recommendation.” I reply. Angela brings us our drinks promptly, and we settle in for the night. Cox is totally love struck by her and I cant help but notice it. “Doc... I think Angela wants to be more than a one night stand with you.” I say.
“Did she say something to you? I have been trying to get up the nerve to ask her, but I don’t think a woman like her would like someone like me. She is so pretty, funny and did I mention beautiful? I suppose the other night she was under the influence which would have affected her judgment. Her inhibitions would have been decreased by at least 14%. Factoring in her body weight, height, and alcohol tolerance it could be as high as 37% which is well within temporary memory loss and severe impairment of the sensory nerves. By all accounts, she could easily have not remembered me at all, and at worst, thought I was someone else.” Cox explains.
“Good lord, doc! Stop being so damn smart for five minutes, would you please? You are over-analyzing everything that shouldn’t be. You already hit 88 miles per hour with her and you're about to see some serious shit. Just look at your cocktail napkin if you don’t believe me.” I say.
Cox glances down at his empty glass and sees the perfect lipstick print on his napkin below his drink. His face lights up like a star just exploded in the heavens. You know, there might just be some light at the end of the tunnel for my little nerd here. I finish my cocktails and head over to play some video lottery. I take my seat next to one of the machines and deposit a fresh twenty dollar bill. I glance over my shoulder to see Angela sitting next to Cox talking. “Hey, you're from the base, right? You're the new security expert they brought in.” A voice echoes from beside me.
“Yeah, I am, what does it matter to you?” I ask.
“You don’t remember me, do you? Name is Bucky. I was one of the guys watching Trixie go postal on Murphey for calling her a cougar.” He says.
“Ahhh... Now I gotcha. I recognized your face just couldn’t remember your name.” I explain.
“You gotta be careful around Trixie. She is one cold bitch, and that ain’t no lie. I have seen my share of bitches in my day, but nothing like that ho. She's like vanilla ice cream in the south pole cold. Plus she, gots her own agenda, and word around the base is, they got some kind of super bug down there.” Bucky says.
“What do you mean, super bug?” I ask.
“Don’t play dumb with me, man. You know what the boys be sayin' is true. You ain’t gotta lie to kick it brotha. They like to think it's all secret and shit, but the boys talk to the other boys. It gets around, know what I’m sayin'? Whatever they be working on down there can't be good, and, me personally, I don’t want to be caught with my hand in the cookie jar. So if you know some shit is going down, you would tell Bucky, right?” He says.
“So you're asking me for a favor I take it? You want me to give you a heads up if you might be in danger.” I say.
“You could say that. You see, I got enough problems with my life and my baby's momma ain’t helping none. So, any information you could share with a brotha would be tight.” Bucky replies.
“You're asking for a pretty tall order, Bucky. That kind of information is on a need-to-know basis. Of which, I am not obliged to give. That being said, I do need a favor, and if you can follow through, I can give you that information.” I say.
“Now see! That’s the kind of shit I am talking about. I got your back, and you got my back. What can Bucky do to help you out?” He asks.
“Over there at that table seat is my wing man, and he has a 100% chance to score tonight. Problem is, he is my ride back to the base. I could, of course, cock block him and stick around as the third wheel at which his chances of getting laid go to almost zero. That’s when you enter the equation, Bucky. You need information and I need a ride back to base. Shall we call it a deal?” I ask.
“I got you covered. When do we leave?” Bucky replies.
“Very soon. I just need to give Cox the heads up real quick. Follow me.” I say. We leave the small casino room and walk across the bar. I can see Angela is still chatting with Cox. Bucky and I approach the booth and stand waiting for Cox or Angela to acknowledge us. It is obvious that both of them are too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to us. “I don’t mean to interrupt here, but I am heading back to the base with Bucky.”
“Are you sure, Haus? I can easily drive you back to the base.” Cox says.
“Nah, man, it's totally cool. Just chill and enjoy your evening bro. Bucky challenged me to a game of table tennis, and I am about to whoop him like a red headed step child. So, if it is OK with you, mom... I am going to head back.” I say.
“By all means, sir... Enjoy your game.” Cox replies.
When we approach the base, I notice the gate has been upgraded. There are guards standing at attention on each side with guns at the ready. A wooden concertina wire barricade has been set up in the road. Bucky slows his truck down and one of the guards approaches us. “Where's Tom?” Bucky asks.
“Security level has been stepped up.” The guard barks.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Need to know basis only, soldier.” The guard replies.
“I am with security, and I was told nothing of this. I am Antone Haus, SPC, and I am in charge of special security for Dr. Cox. The doctor and his research are my main priority. I spent ten years in operation Thunderclap son, and in 70 years when they declassify it, maybe you will learn a thing or two about security. Maybe you should call General Stratton and ask him why I want to know.” I say with my best authoritative voice. The guard's stern attitude did a complete reversal and the look on his face was of slight terror. The poor guy bought into my lies, hook, line and sinker.
“Sorry, sir! It's nothing major, just a fight broke out in one of the underground labs. Several scientists were hurt, one of them seriously injured, and one dead. We arrested the offender, and he is being held in a containment cell below ground.” The guard explains.
“Someone turns up dead on a secret military installment, and you call it nothing major. Listen to me, shit for brains, open this damn gate and get the hell out of my way! I need to see the general IMMEDIATELY!” I scream. The guard trips over his own shadow as he scrambles to move the barricade. Within a few minutes, we are parked at the base directly in front of the Generals quarters. “I knew you had some power plays, but hot damn, that was some Miami Vice shit back there. Remember, we made a deal, and Bucky don’t like peeps who don’t keep their word.” Bucky says.
“Bucky, we are cool man. You kept your side of the bargain and I will keep mine. If things get out of control, you will be first person I call.” I say as I exit his truck. I run inside the building and pound on the General's door. I wait for a few moments until, finally, the general answers the door. Stratton rubs his eyes and motions me inside.
“Do you know what time it is?” Stratton asks.
“Sorry about the late call sir, but this is very important. I just learned about the fight in the lab and I am very concerned sir.” I say.
“Whats to be concerned about? An employee, living underground with a host of personal problems, snapped on some co-workers. He was a brilliant scientist but has caused
problems in the past. We only let him continue working because his contributions outweighed his negatives.” Stratton explains.
“What about the cleaning lady? Did she have access to the lower levels?” I ask.
“Of course she did, we have a minimal staff for cleaning, and they have access to almost every level.” Stratton says.
“Dr. Cox suspects that the cleaning lady might have been infected, sir. The fight at lower levels confirms my suspicions.” I say.
“Haus, Dr. Cox hasn’t been able to reproduce the virus. So how would it be possible that anyone is infected?” Stratton asks.
“That’s not entirely accurate, general. Cox was able to get a few of them cloned but hasn’t been able to get them to reproduce.” I say reluctantly. I know in my head that I promised Cox I wouldn’t say anything, but if the general doesn’t have any suspicion, my case is already lost. I fear that without a full disclosure, the general will take no action and things will get much worse.
“Dr. Cox is a top notch scientist in his field. If he hasn’t been able to get it to work yet, I doubt there is even a slim chance of an infection. Not to mention if it can't reproduce on its own, it cant spread. There are other things to consider out here. Do you think the people of Lead are happy about us moving in? It is hard enough to snuff out the fires those conspiracy theorists started already. The last thing I need is a PR nightmare.” Stratton explains.
“Sir, can you at least entertain the idea, and at minimum take blood samples from the scientist to study?” I plead.
“I am not going to waste any of my resources for such a ludicrous venture. I appreciate your concern Haus, but since you aren’t one of my resources, go right ahead and investigate away. I am going to bed, good night Haus.” Stratton opens the door suggesting that I leave now.