Altered Genes: Genesis (15 page)

H
e spotted
Colonel Young sitting alone at a table on the far side of the hall. Even at this early hour, the mess was busy with hungry soldiers and their trays full of food. He jostled his way through the crowd and reached the colonel’s table.

Young looked up, a fork full of food half-way to his mouth. “Morning, have a seat, Professor,” he said and motioned to a chair. “Do you want breakfast?”

Simmons shook his head and sat. “I’ll grab a piece of toast before I head into the lab.” He pushed the salt and pepper shakers out of his way and leaned in towards the colonel. “I didn’t know my access on and off the base was restricted. What’s that all about?”

“I’m sorry,” Young said, seeing the pinched expression on his face. “I should have told you but I honestly didn’t think you’d try and leave. We can’t afford to have anything happen to you and the other researchers.”

“What do you mean?” He spoke a little too loudly and the soldiers next to them glanced over. Young glared at them and they quickly looked away. No one wanted the colonel riding their ass.

“What’s really going on, Colonel?”

Young spoke quietly. “Let’s go to my office. We can talk there.” He pushed back his unfinished breakfast and stood. Simmons followed him out.

“Grab a seat, Professor,” Young said when they arrived at his office. He closed the door, walked to his desk and sat with his hands folded on the desktop in front of him.

“You know that I met with Dr. Mayer and John Raine last night?”

Simmons nodded tentatively.
Maybe now he’ll tell me why.

“Dr. Mayer was concerned the project would suffer a major setback if we lost any of the researchers—you in particular. She feels we’ve made good progress in the last few days. You’ve been a critical part of that.”

Kind words but untrue,
Simmons thought.
It’s been a team effort and we still have a long way to go.

“Things outside are getting worse,” Young continued. “A couple of days ago, base security requested that I approve a lockdown. I argued it was too early but recent developments and Dr. Mayer’s comments changed my mind.”

“What developments?”

Young’s forehead wrinkled as he paused and then began to explain. “You would have heard about it in tomorrow’s briefing, but the President has declared martial law in most of the country. It’s not too bad here in Frederick yet but the bigger cities are a mess. We’ve started to move supplies inside the base where they can be better protected.”

Simmons tensed. “How bad is it, Colonel?”

Young spoke, carefully choosing his words. “I fear for our nation, Professor. We’re on day sixteen of the pandemic and the civil authorities are struggling to keep order. Curfews are in effect across most of the entire country. Grocery stores are running low on food and the restocking effort is haphazard. Even if a vaccine was available tomorrow, it would take months to regain order.”

Simmons felt the tightness in his stomach work its way up his chest. He took a deep breath and asked, “What happens if we aren’t successful?”

Young stared at him from across the desk. “Let’s not think about that.”

“Is the base still on communication lock-down?”

“Yes—Why? Is there someone you need to talk to?”

“A friend in New York and Emma Rice, the student whose father you knew.”
All he could do was hope they were both all right. Hearing it from them would go a long way.

Young sighed and slid a piece of paper and pen across the table. “Write their contact details down. No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” He wrote on the slip of paper and handed it back.

“I need to go see Dr. Mayer now.”

“Good luck, Professor.”

“You too, Colonel.”

O
ne floor
up and a corridor over
was what the colonel had told him the night before.
He opened the stairwell door and stepped onto the sixth floor. The hallway was busy with officers and enlisted personnel scurrying about. In his civilian clothing, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Can I help you, Sir?” a young soldier with her hair tucked up and pinned just above the collar of her uniform asked.

He smiled at her and opened his mouth to speak at the very instant Raine’s booming voice came at him from around the corner.
Shit…I’m not in the mood to deal with him right now.

It was too far to make it back to the stairwell, but the sign on the door across the hallway read ‘Conference Room - 5A’ and the placard beside it was green.
Unoccupied.

“Thank you, Private, my meeting’s in there.” He motioned at the door and was halfway through it when she corrected him.

“It’s corporal, Sir,“ she said as she pointed to the insignia on the sleeve of her uniform.

He nodded and shut the door as Raine came around the corner.

“—be watched.”

“—somewhere private.”

He could only hear fragments of their conversation
. Dr. Mayer was with Raine.
He leaned in closer to the door.

“What about in there?” he heard Raine ask.

Simmons fixed his eyes on the door knob and watched as it turned. His pulse raced as the door opened a crack.
Shit…he’d never be able to explain his presence—especially to someone like Raine.
His eyes darted around the room as he searched for a place to hide or another way out.
The door at the other end of the conference room might be close enough.
He turned towards it as Mayer spoke.

“We can go to my office.”

The latch closed with a click and the sound of their voices disappeared. His muscles went limp and he slumped into a chair pressed up against the wall.

A minute later he heard the sound of Raine’s voice again. This time it was muffled and coming from the room next door. He bolted upright and riveted his eyes on the door handle. It rattled twice.

Locked. Thank god!

He stood to leave but stopped when Raine spoke. “You told me last night everything was fine. What the hell is going on Sylvia?”

“I’m sorry, I thought about it again this morning. The Metronidazole file was open. I’m certain that I didn’t leave it open the last time I used the software. I don’t know how long Tony was sitting at the computer. I was only gone for twenty minutes.“

They were talking about him.
He tilted his head closer to the door.

“How could you do something so stupid?” Raine spat. “Leaving everything on the computer was careless but walking away while you were logged on was idiotic.”

“I know. I deleted everything this morning. I’m sorry.”

“It’s a little late for that. What if he copied the files?”

What the hell are they talking about? What files?
He listened as Raine moved about the office cursing under his breath.

Mayer spoke and apologized in a desperate voice. “John, I said I’m sorry. I really am.”

“How did he behave?” Raine asked. “Was he acting strangely?”

“A little maybe…After I caught him at the computer, he kept asking me if I needed anything. He sounded tense.”

“Shit! I bumped into him last night. He said he was going to talk to Young.”

“About what?”

“The vaccine…but he was probably lying. He had that stupid look on his face. Goddamn it. This is the last thing I need right now.”

“Do you think he said anything to Young?” Mayer asked.

“Maybe, but not enough to have us arrested. We’d be locked up already if he had. But if he copied your files, we’re fucked.”

“What are you going to do?”

What the hell have you two done?
Simmons wondered. The sound of his pulse was like a drum beating in his ear. He strained to hear their voices.

“Find him and find out what he knows. If he’s a problem, I’ll kill him.”

Simmons blinked, uncertain if he had heard Raine correctly.

“John—No!”

“There’s no other option,” Raine spat. “Remember, you’ll go down with me.”

“What about the vaccine.”

“Figure it out without him. You said the others—that woman from John Hopkins—were just as good.” Simmons heard a chair scrap against the floor. “Get back to work. I need to figure out how to find out what that bastard knows.”

The door slammed shut and the room next door went quiet.
They were gone.
He had to get to the colonel and tell him what he had heard—tell him about the files that were so incriminating, Raine was willing to kill for them.
Maybe they could recover them from backups.

He slowly opened the conference room door and poked his head out.
It was clear.
He stepped out as Raine rounded the corner. The CIA agent stopped and stared at him with a look so malevolent, his blood ran cold.

He ran.

He was fifty pounds lighter and made it to the stairwell before Raine had even taken a couple of steps. As he thrust the door open, he half-expected a bullet to strike him in the back.
But Raine wouldn’t kill him in public—would he?

Colonel Young’s office was one floor down.
He took the stairs three at a time. Thirty seconds later he thrust Young’s office door open. The words jetted from his mouth like water rushing over a set of rapids. “Raine is after me. He and Dr. Mayer are involved in something—I heard him tell her he’s going to kill me.”

Young held his hands up in the air. “Whoa, slow down, Professor. What’s going on?”

“There’s no time.” He rushed towards the desk and pleaded with his eyes for Young’s help. “Raine thinks I know something. He’s going to kill me because of the files.”

The colonel looked past him and scowled. “What the hell is going on, Raine?”

Eyes wide in panic, Simmons lurched backwards as Raine stepped through the door and closed it.

The CIA man spoke coldly as he pointed an accusing finger at Simmons. “Dr. Mayer caught him sabotaging the project. This bastard altered some of the test results, but she doesn’t know which ones. I need to take him with me. It’s critical that we find out what—“

“He’s lying!” Simmons yelled and stepped towards Young.

Young pushed back his chair and stood. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two but it needs to stop.”

He looked at Raine and reached for the phone on his desk. “You’re not taking him anywhere. If Professor Simmons has done something, we’ll find out what it was and take care of it. I’m going to call the MPs.”

Simmons watched with surprise as Raine nodded his agreement.

“I understand, Colonel,” Raine said as he reached into the pocket of his overcoat. “Normally, that would be a good idea—but not today.” He drew a pistol and pulled the trigger.

“Pht…Pht”

The two subsonic bullets, quieted by the silencer on his gun, were barely louder than a cork popping from a champagne bottle. They struck Young in the chest and he slumped back into his chair, a surprised look on his face. The front of his jacket was dark with blood. His eyelids fluttered a couple of times and then closed.

Horror-struck, Simmons backed up against the wall. He stared at Raine who lowered his weapon and calmly stepped towards Young’s desk. The CIA agent placed the pistol on it and raised his hands in the air.

Confused by Raine’s bizarre action, Simmons remained rooted in place for a few seconds before he regained his wits and rushed the desk. He grabbed the gun, held it with both hands and pointed it at Raine.

“Don’t move you bastard. You killed the colonel.”

Raine smiled and reached inside his jacket. He pulled out a smaller pistol and pointed it at him. “Not so fast, Professor.”

Simmons tried to pull the trigger on his gun.
Nothing
. He tried again, and then again.

Raine’s smile grew wider. “I didn’t kill the colonel, Professor, you did—with the gun in your hands. Your fingerprints are all over it. I got here just in time to stop you from escaping. Unfortunately, I had to shoot you.”

He motioned to the gun Simmons held. “I took a chance you didn’t know anything about weapons. I flipped the safety on before I put it down—Good bye, Prof—”

The door burst open as the young corporal from upstairs rushed in, a stack of papers in her arms. “Colonel Young, here’s the—“

She stopped mid-sentence and stared, eyes wide, at Young’s body slumped over in his chair.

Raine reacted first and yelled, “He killed the colonel.”

She looked at Simmons who stared back. “I didn’t,” he pleaded. He could tell she didn’t believe him. She was looking at the gun in his hand.

Without thinking, he dropped it and ran past her, knocking her into Raine. Her shouts filled the hallway as he crashed through the door into the stairwell. It took him half as long as the night before to reach the ground floor. He ran, blindly at first, and then slowed to a fast walk, aware he had to be inconspicuous.

He needed to get somewhere private, somewhere he could think.

The small library was on the top floor of a much larger building. It was empty aside from the lone clerk who sat at the front desk reading a paperback. He glanced up when Simmons entered.

“Morning, I’m looking for a book to read,” Simmons said, feeling the need to explain himself.