Blood Harvest (30 page)

“It’s a big, open, empty space. Why do you say this is where Pharmanetics produces their products?” Alpha asked.

“See all the high voltage electrical running directly to this area and nowhere else in the building? That tells me they have equipment on this level requiring beefed up power beyond that of simple research machinery.”

“Actually, some of the machinery used in the Pharmanetics’ research labs can use and generate a great deal of power. An electron microscope for example, would practically need its own power plant,” Chris explained.

“Wouldn’t the machines which produce the drugs be extra heavy as well?” Alpha asked.

“Yes they would and I believe they are,” Steve answered. “You’ll notice on the blueprints each floor, three through nine, has added reinforcement, albeit minimal, but still run on normal electrical circuits. I believe the base products for the drugs are made in the labs on these levels then sent to the upper floors for assembly.”

Each man silently studied the schematics as they considered Steve’s theory.

“I think you’re right Steve,” Chris interjected. “Look how the third through ninth floors all have special safety features and minimal security. Sprinklers and foam fire protection, special ventilation, and unique drainage all standard for a working laboratory. Now look at the open area on the tenth through thirteenth floors that have minimal safety and higher than normal security. Given your theory this particular set-up makes sense. The creation of the basic products within the pharmaceutical world is no secret, but the combination of chemicals and the ratios which make the drugs effective are highly guarded. Not to mention the finished products themselves need to be protected until shipped to the suppliers.”

“How does this help us?” Alpha asked impatiently.

Steve recognized the irritation in his voice. As far back as he could remember Alpha was about action as opposed to planning.

“Bear with me for a second Alpha. We can see that the rest of the floors, fourteen through eighty are either showroom floors or straight office space with the top floor being for the exclusive use of our good Mr. Daniels. The floors below ground appear to be the usual boiler room and other utility areas for the building.”

“Is this normal for a company to use their buildings to not only house their corporate people but also house their production facility?” Chris asked. “I would think the costs of warehousing and research could be more efficient at lower real estate rates.”

“True, unless you want to keep you’re activities extremely private and monitor the tightest security standards, which is far more difficult to do in multiple areas.”

“Again I ask you, how does this help us find our people?” Alpha demanded with a little more volume than before.

“The high security Alpha.”

Alpha looked at Steve realizing the answer was forthcoming.

“What if…and this is pure speculation now, but what if instead of major production equipment putting drugs together in combination, the area has been converted.”

“Converted?” Alpha said. “Converted to what?”

“We’ve already determined that our blood supply was what Pharmanetics wanted for its ability to make a human body an adverse environment for viruses and bacteria.”

“Yes,” Alpha agreed.

“How long does the effect last?” Steve asked Alpha.

“Like you and yours, I would think that the benefits of the drug would alter your blood chemistry permanently,” Chris responded.

“Then I would ask you, where’s the money in a permanent cure?”

Steve let the question hang for a short period of time then continued.

“If a person received a cure derived from the blood of our people for a common cold and was never going to get another cold for the rest of their lives, how does Pharmanetics continue to make money?”

“So…you think they are converting the permanent curative aspect of the blood to something more temporary?”

“As Chris Rock used to say in his stand-up routine ‘There’s no money in a cure’; I think they have reversed the process. They acquire the blood supply in the heightened security room and transport it to the other floors for refinement into a more profitable product.”

“But the sheer mass of people who would be on that floor would require constant maintenance, food supplies, bathroom facilities, and etcetera.”

“This brings us full circle to what happened to those people at
The Inferno
and Glitter Gulch. A new technology which keeps a person in a coma-like stasis without the harmful side effects of chemicals would mean a body could produce more products over time before…”

Steve stopped himself from saying what he was going to say and altered his words before he continued, “Before the person is no longer able to produce additional product.”

Alpha stared wide-eyed at Steve as he heard his finishing words.

“I will see the building burned to the ground and render the fat of all of those involved as the fuel for the fire.” The look in Alpha’s eyes made it clear he meant every word. This was not an idle threat.

Trying to ignore the frightening revelation, Chris said, “So we can assume our LAPD brethren are there as well?”

“It’s our best guess, but it is still only a guess.”

“So,” Alpha asked while still studying the documents on the table, “how do you intend to get in the building and remove all of those people without having any idea how to bring them out of the state they are in?”

“I don’t plan on bringing them out.”

Alpha looked up from the documents on the table sharply and faced Steve.

“I only intend on exposing Pharmanetics for who and what they are, then we’ll let those far more brilliant than we figure out how to help the prisoners.”

“That would mean exposing our people to the whole world!”

“Hoo-boy…” Chris whistled.

With a calm Steve hadn’t expressed since this entire escapade had begun, he said, “I know.”

“You know? That’s it?!?” Alpha was yelling again.

“Yes, I know and I’m sorry for that, but I see no other way to accomplish this.”

“That is completely unacceptable!!!”

“If you have another plan for how to remove over three thousand comatose people from a building in secret, then now would be a good time to share.”

Alpha balled his fists and for a moment appeared as though he might strike Steve. Then his head dropped and his hands went to his face and rubbed his forehead.

“It’s all coming apart and, you’re right, it is too big for me to stop it from happening.”

A nervous moment passed before Alpha spoke again.

“I need you all to promise me something.” Alpha spoke so quietly Steve had to strain to hear him. “I need you to promise me that when this news breaks you will use whatever influence you have to help keep these parasites and vultures of humanity away from my children.”

Steve looked at Alpha, understanding the weight of what was being asked.

“I know it may seem an impossible task. All I am asking is that you try. Try your best, please.”

“I promise,” Steve nodded.

Alpha’s eyes were red and moist as he gripped Steve’s hand in both of his.

“Thank you.”

Chapter 39

“Doctor?” The voice cut through the silence as clearly as if it had been amplified through a speaker system. Unfortunately, the person it was directed toward was so lost in the slice he had made in Lei’s abdomen he never heard a sound.

With the care and precision of a master craftsman, Dr. Whelan glided the impeccably sharp blade further toward Lei’s right hip. She was pinned in near immobility, quaking in small tremors as the knife passed through her skin as easily as a hot knife through soft butter.

“DOCTOR!!!” Kunnert’s voice was an explosion of sound and command. Dr. Whelan’s head snapped up upon hearing Kunnert that time.

“What…are…you…DOING?!?”

The doctor was visibly shaken, as if waking up from a dream, looking from Kunnert, to what he had done to Lei, and back to Kunnert in a confused manner.

“I…She…” He was completely lost for words.

Kunnert studied the situation before he spoke again.

“She’s mine. Put the knife down and get off of her.” Kunnert’s voice was calm and there was even a twinge of understanding and compassion mixed in with the command and unspoken threat.

The doctor hopped off Lei immediately, walked over and stood next to Kunnert who studied him. Kunnert made a small gesture with his head; the doctor nodded and left the room.

Kunnert walked over to Lei and observed the incision the doctor had made. It ran three inches horizontally from her navel toward her right hip, splaying her open in surgical exactness. There wasn’t much blood, but what blood was present was pooling in the open wound, gently flowing over the side and down her body with every rise of her chest for a breath of air.

“Lie still.” Kunnert spoke to Lei in soft tones that sounded remotely like compassion. “I will get something to clean and stitch the wound.”

Slowly Kunnert turned his back to Lei and walked over to a wall cabinet, removing a small white box that appeared to be a first aid kit. Pulling a standing tray behind him, Kunnert walked back over to Lei and began removing items from the first aid kit, placing them gently on the tray. Among the items Lei could see were three rolls of sterile gauze pads still in their packaging, forceps, a long curved suturing needle and a tube of what she believed to be antibiotic paste. Kunnert removed other things but she couldn’t make out what those things might be.

“I must apologize for my associate. He lacks some of the more social graces and has particular tastes which can be somewhat disturbing.”

Lei didn’t respond, the pain in her abdomen had finally registered and she strained with her bonds in order to alter her position and cover her wound.

“He is also quite skilled in the use of that blade of his. He sliced through your skin and the minor amount of subcutaneous fat you have, but he didn’t penetrate deep enough to sever the muscles of your abdomen.”

Kunnert began to gently clean the area around the wound with a dark yellow-brown liquid Lei recognized as iodine. Then he opened a package of the gauze and mopped up the excess liquid while he dabbed at the blood pooling inside her incision.

Lei winced as Kunnert pushed the gauze into her open wound. She knew this was the proper procedure for caring for the kind of wound she was enduring, and knew he was doing what he must to properly care for and close the incision. The anxiety she felt about still being incapacitated made the pain even more intolerable.

“Why are you helping me?”

Kunnert looked up from his work, “Helping you?” he asked, momentarily confused. Then a look of clarity washed over his face. “Ah, I see. Well, I would imagine I am dressing your wound because there is a great deal I wish from you and an infection to the abdomen would not serve my purposes in that endeavor.”

Lei remained quiet as Kunnert began to squeeze some of the antibiotic cream onto his fingers.

“I suppose infection isn’t something your kind suffers from given that miraculous physiology you and yours possess, but I am nothing if not a creature of habit so you’ll indulge me won’t you?”

Lei didn’t answer the question and instead asked one of her own: “Where are the rest of my people?”

“You don’t remember your little ride here?” Kunnert nodded, “Yes, many of your people are with us now. Rest assured, they are completely safe and their every need is being attended to by the staff of this building. You have no need to worry.”

The memory of the battle in the caverns came flooding back to her. She began to tremble as Kunnert reached for a set of clamps along with the needle and thread.

“How many are here?” Lei was rambling at this point but hearing her own voice was calming to her.

Kunnert again turned away from his work to face Lei.

“Is that what you want to know? Or would you like me to answer the question you are really asking?”

Lei was astonished the man had picked up her little deception, but pressed forward innocently, “And what question would that be?”

”How many were killed that night in the mine?” As Kunnert spoke he inserted the needle into the point of the incision furthest from her navel.

Lei’s breath caught in her throat from the shock of pain from the needle and because of what Kunnert had just stated. She grimaced as he slowly weaved a thread through each side of the cut and fastened a knot in the first stitch.

“All right,” Lei continued, “how many were killed?”

Kunnert faced her again and looked directly into her eyes, “By my best estimation nearly five hundred and fifty-two.”

“Five hundred…and…” The number caught as tightness ensnared her breathing.

“And fifty-two.” Kunnert finished the sentence for her and inserted the needle into the flesh for the second of a series of stitches.

Lei winced again, but the pain wasn’t as bad as it had been previously.

“And how many of my people are here?”

“We have beds on the security floor for thirty-five hundred, most of them are full; in fact, I believe we are at capacity.”