The Return of the Watchers (Armageddon Rising Book 1) (7 page)

              “Roy’s been telling me about your earlier years and the odd jobs you two had,” Trevor said. “It’s hard to believe you both went to high school together, you look about the same age as me,” he said, a hint of jealousy in his tone.                                                                                                                 “I guess it’s in the genes,” Dorian replied coolly, a line he had used hundreds of times in the past. He took up a chair to the left of Roy, ignoring Trevor, who seemed to be more interested in looking around to see who was looking at him.                                                                                                   “How long are you in town?” Dorian asked Roy.                                           “I’m guessing we’ll get a settlement by Wednesday, so most likely a few more days. You enjoying Ann Arbor? Met any nice college hotties here?” Roy asked with a smile, elbowing Dorian gently.                                           “It’s not too bad, just a lot of headaches. My lab was broken into a few days ago and my primary research assistant just went back home, possibly for good. I’ve had a crazy mob protesting in front of our building the other day, student issues, et cetera, you get the point. It’s a different kind of pressure cooker from Primase, but I’m still simmering in a pot none the less. What about you? I figured that since you made partner, you’d take it easy and swim in the pools of cash you squeezed from big pharma.”                                                                                                                               Roy set down his drink and shot an angry look over to Dorian.               “Easy there, pal, I’m not on trial here,” he said pointing a finger with the same hand that was holding his drink.                                                         Roy’s profession and what he represented was somewhat of a sore spot for Dorian. Even though Dorian wasn’t part of any drug company, he still felt some association with the researchers there. From his perspective, he understood what it took to get a treatment to market, a lot of money and luck. Unfortunately, some of his fellow researchers were caught using unethical tactics, such as fudging data to get medications out of the pipeline, only to discover later that those medications had major safety issues. All to keep the gravy train rolling. Those bad apples made it difficult for everyone else. Nowadays you couldn’t win any sympathy for drug researchers; people were unemployed and viewed anyone who achieved success with distrust, or suspecting that they had dodged the rules, cheated, or used some other illegal activity outside of hard work and sacrifice. Additionally, many of the mass public shootings were attributed to the effects that certain anti-depressants or psychotropic medications had on fragile minds; effects that had been either willfully ignored or  purposefully hidden in the name of profits. It was no wonder that people were resentful of the whole medical establishment; like many other institutions, it had failed to keep the public trust. As a result, a large part of  society regarded them as a source for easy money. It didn’t matter if you truthfully experienced a side effect of a drug, just find a doctor who would go along with the scheme and sue for millions. Now, having sent many corporations into bankruptcy, the vampires were running out of victims to bleed. Dorian figured Roy wasn’t directly implicit in scamming the pharmaceutical companies, but he also knew that Roy was able to ask rational questions and draw reasonable conclusions about the veracity of his client’s claims.                                                                                                                 “Sorry, man. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately,” Dorian said in a muted tone.                                                                                                                               “No problem,” Roy replied, still miffed at Dorian’s innuendo.              “How’s your mom doing?” Dorian asked, in an attempt to extend an olive branch.                                                                     
                                            “Well, she’s down to about 85 pounds now, cancer eating her alive,” he responded, as if he was discussing his golf handicap, a matter of minor significance.                                                                                                                 “How you’ve changed Roy,” Dorian thought. His friend used to be one of the nicest, most caring, give-the-shirt-off-your-back kind of people whom Dorian admired growing up. But when the union at the bottling plant where Roy’s father worked went on strike, the company closed down in Colorado and moved the jobs to Florida. His family fell on hard times and his father had a stroke not long after that. Roy felt cheated by the world and blamed the company for their misfortune. That’s why he had decided to become a lawyer, so that he could make companies like the one his dad worked for pay for their misdeeds. Dorian had thought Roy would be a force for good and fight against those who would take advantage of the little guy. Money, however, tends to corrupt those even with the best of intentions. Roy, who used to loathe executives at the top, had ironically become one himself.                                                                                                                 “I’m sorry to hear that, tell her that I’ll be praying for her.” Dorian replied in a somber tone.                                                                                                  “You're not drinking?” Roy asked.

              “Not tonight, thanks,” Dorian replied, doing a double take at the stage. “I don’t believe it, Engel, you’re pretty good.”                                            Roy looked puzzled, “You know him?”                                                         Engel was playing a guitar solo with the band on stage. The bass drum read “Flat Pop”, the name of their techno-rock band.                                           “He’s one of my grad students; a bit laissez-faire in the head, but not without potential. I forgot that he toured Europe in a band a while back.”                                                                                                                                             They continued with some idle chit chat about Colorado, the people they knew growing up and times that made them both laugh. Dorian started to see shades of his old friend amidst the fog surrounding his spirit. Saying their goodbyes, Dorian left, embraced by the bitter cold night. It was late, and as he made his way to one of the few operating bus stops he noticed a pack of five adolescents following him. He endeavored to stay on lighted streets to avoid giving them an opportunity to attack, feeling that the best course of action would be to avoid any confrontation if he could. The group mustered enough courage to run up from behind, forming a half circle around him. One of the jackals produced a small handgun. Another one had a knife.                                                                                     “Let’s have it, give me the money or you’re gonna get hurt,” the one with skulls tattooed on his forehead said, with his hand out.                               Dorian edged his way to the wall of the building next to him so that no one would be able to strike from behind. The thug holding the knife made a stab at Dorian's abdomen. Dorian grabbed his wrist, snapped it, and pulled back, causing a compound fracture. The attacker with the gun had already started to pull the trigger when Dorian moved faster than the gunman could see; in fact, Dorian himself could scarcely believe how fast he moved. He kicked the gunman on the side of his leg so hard it shattered the bone, causing the man's leg to fold like a card table. Before the gunman could fall, Dorian grabbed a hold of the gun while twisting the man's wrist, crushing the bones together.                                                                        The gunman howled in pain as blood spewed from the fractures. The attacker with the skull tattoo took a swing at Dorian, who easily sidestepped it and returned a blow to his diaphragm that caused him to collapse, gasping for air. The two remaining thugs decided not to press their luck and took off, knowing the others were sure to be arrested.              Everything had happened in a blink of an eye. Dorian was feeling very strange at this point. He could
feel
the heartbeats and movements of each of the three men on the ground, a sensation that made him feel more awake and alive than he ever had before; as if a switch had been thrown and every sense was heightened tremendously.                                                        When Dorian was a boy he was attacked by some bullies; however, he simply ran away, faster than anyone could catch him. For some reason he had decided to fight back this time.                                                                       A passing police cruiser shone its light on his face and flashed the lights on top just as he was reaching into his pocket to call them. Dorian stood where he was as several more police units were called to the scene, as well as an ambulance. The police cuffed him on the ground, then started peppering him with questions.                                                                                    “I need to speak with my attorney before I answer any questions,” he told them. He reluctantly called Roy and told him what had happened and asked him to meet where he was.                                                                       “Don’t say anything to anyone,” Roy commanded. “Wait until I get there.”                            

              Dorian was concerned because he knew the Ann Arbor Police were not known for their patience. They had no problems throwing out both the baby and the bath water. Roy showed up a few minutes later with Trevor; apparently they had not driven too far away from the bar.                                           “I’m his attorney, we’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have, just give me a few moments with my client,” Roy said to the police officer in charge.                                                                                                                 “Are you sure about this, Roy? You’re not a defense attorney,” Dorian said.                                                                                                                               “You called me, remember? Besides, they don’t know that. I’ve got a basic understanding of criminal law, so why don’t we start with what happened?”                                                                                                                               Dorian filled Roy in on the details and Roy gave a pretty convincing explanation to the police, complete with Dorian’s position at the university, accolades, and so forth. They decided it wasn’t worth charging a professor who most likely had been attacked, even though he showed no signs of damage to himself; not even his hand was bruised.               Thanks, Roy. I can see why you’ve become so successful at winning cases. You have a way with words,” Dorian said.                             “Anytime, my friend,” Roy replied.                                                                       “By the way, since when did you learn to fight? You took on five guys and thrashed three of them. Two look like they’ve been hit with a steel pipe. Didn’t think you were capable of something like this. I better remember not to get you upset.”

“Come on, man, you know me, I hate this sort of thing. I don’t know what happened there; probably the flight or fight response, my body went on autopilot. I hope those guys are okay.”                                                         “Don’t worry about that garbage. You did society a favor. If more people fought back we wouldn’t have as much crime as we do. Let me know if they try to sue you, I’ll have their attorney wetting his pants in no time.”

After saying his goodbyes again,
Dorian
went home for the night. At about one a.m., as he was pulling into his driveway, he received a text message from Yuki letting him know that her father was improving, and that she would try and call him around nine a.m. later that day.                            

Five

              In another part of the world, Theodore Dantanian met with several advisors from Hermoni regarding the recent acquisition of Sukekuni Corporation.
Af
terwards, he boarded his private jet for a flight to Japan to meet with the Sukekuni board members. Upon arrival he joined them to discuss their options of continuing operations under new leadership, expansion, or dismantling the company through forced liquidation and buyouts. “This all depends on the outcome of a meeting I have with someone involved in the situation,” Dantanian said to the board members, referring to Mr. Sukekuni, Yuki’s father.                                                                       One of Dantanian’s assistants handed a sealed note for Mr. Sukekuni to Hiroshi Sato, one of the senior managers at the company.               The meeting ended and the board adjourned for the day, puzzled as to why Hermoni would have them on their radar and what advantage they could give such a large company.                                                                                     Afterwards, Hiroshi drove to Mr. Sukekuni’s estate, where Mr. Sukekuni was recuperating from his heart attack. Hiroshi was greeted at the door by Aki, Yuki’s younger sister,  who led him through the courtyard towards the main living quarters of the pagoda-styled mansion.               “How is he feeling?” Hiroshi asked with trepidation.                             “He is regaining his strength quickly. Father had a mild heart attack, but the doctor feels he still needs to take it easy for a while and not get too stressed,” Aki replied, glaring at him with those last few words.               Hiroshi laughed nervously. “I don’t want the Chief to be stressed; I have a note to give him, that’s all.” He held out the sealed letter.                            “A note? What note? From who? Let me see it!”                                           Yuki, who silently approached from the adjacent hallway, stepped in and held Aki's wrist just as Aki was about to grab the note, reminding her to be more polite towards guests in the house.                                           “Forgive her Hiroshi-san; she’s been a bit emotional since all that has happened. Is this a matter of great importance?” Yuki asked politely.               “I believe so. I was at the board meeting in place of your father and one of the assistants of a Mr. Dantanian asked me to deliver this with urgency. I didn’t ask what it was about and they didn’t tell me.”                             “I see. Follow me, then.” She led him to the main living room, where her father was in a bed reading a newspaper with the television playing in the background.                                                                                                   “Ah, Sato-san, good to see you,” Mr Sukekuni said in a weakened, gravelly voice.                                                                                                                 “It is good to see you also, Chief. We all hope your health is getting better. I did not wish to disturb; however, I was asked to give you a note from a Mr. Dantanian, whom I believe you are acquainted with,” he said respectfully.                                                                                                                 “Hand it to Yuki, please. Thank you,Sato-san.”                           

              Hiroshi pulled out a very large “get well soon” poster from the folder he was carrying. The poster was signed by everyone in the company- all four thousand four hundred of them, give or take a few. Aki’s face lit up when she saw the enormous number of well wishers.               “Aww, that’s so nice. Arigato,Hiroshi-san,” she said with a flirty smile, changing her disposition towards him. He handed the note to Yuki, said goodbye and departed. Yuki opened the note and read it aloud.               “
I would like to discuss a final opportunity for you and your family. Make sure Yuki is present. Six p.m. tonight in the executive conference room.  –TD
.             

              Yuki looked furious. “Is he crazy? Doesn’t he know you just had a heart attack? What is with this guy?” she yelled.                                                         “Calm down, Yuki,” her father said, having been roused out of his feeble state. “Aki, I need you to do me a favor. Look up this Dantanian fellow and tell me what his relationship is to the Hermoni Company.”               “Yes, father,” she replied with feigned enthusiasm.                                           His assistants had already completed preliminary legwork before Yuki had her meeting with Dantanian; however, he wanted his daughters to take more interest in the family business. It was because of the business that he had been unable to spend much time with both of them when they were growing up. Now that they were older, it was his dream to get them more involved with the company in order to get to know them more. Yuki might be a lost cause at this point, but it wasn’t too late for Aki. Several minutes later Aki returned with some answers.                                                         “Theodore Dantanian owns TDI Corp, and they own many other companies, including Hermoni,” she said. His face looked strained upon hearing this.                                                                                                                              “I did not have an opportunity to speak to you about the meeting with him. What happened?” he asked Yuki.                                                                       Trying not to upset her father, she carefully worded her response. “I met with Mr. Dantanian as you asked, but I could not provide him with the information he was looking for. He seemed to think the Professor I am working under has some secret research going on. I believe he is wrong and now he is trying to force me to spy on Dr. Lystad.”                                           Her father put down his paper and turned his head towards her with  a very stern look. “Is that all he wants from you? What harm is there in giving him some information? Do you see what he's done? He’s going to destroy us if you don’t cooperate! Give him what he wants, Yuki. You can always work for the company if you lose your position there.”                             “You tell me to calm down, look at you! You’re going to end up back in the hospital!” she shot back. “I will go to this meeting and in your place Hiroshi can come with me. You’re not well enough to go.”                            He looked back at her with consternation. “Get Aki to set up the camera and I will attend the meeting by video conference. I need to speak with this man myself,” he huffed with shortened breath, as the stress of their conversation began taking its toll.                                                                      Some time later a driver took Yuki and Hiroshi to the company headquarters in Tokyo. The two of them discussed the upcoming meeting and shared some small talk on the way. They arrived a bit early to set up the equipment, making sure everything worked properly.                                           Five minutes before six o’clock Theodore Dantanian and his assistant April arrived, along with several of his bodyguards who inspected the room prior to standing at their posts outside.                                           “Miss Yuki, I’m happy to see you again. I see that you received my message,” he said, as if they were old friends.                                                         “What message would that be, Mr. Dantanian? The one for this meeting, or the one you delivered by taking over our company?”                             He responded in Japanese: “Touché, miss Yuki. I didn’t want things to have to come to this, especially since Sukekuni is such an old, stagnant company; it wasn’t something I really wanted to acquire. Since I had to deliver a message, I felt it should be one that you would pay attention to this time.”

Yuki shot an icy glance at him.

“Now that you know how serious I am, I will give you one final opportunity before I dismantle this company and four thousand people lose their jobs. I need you to convince Lystad to give up the source.              You can tell him what he’s up against, and let him know that once I’m finished with you I’ll move on to someone or something else he cares about,” he said casually.             

“Mr. Dantanian, why are you involving us like this? If you need something from him why don’t you just go to him yourself?” Yuki’s father asked.                                                                                                                                             “As I told your daughter, we went through that phase already.  Now I’m giving him more of an incentive to cooperate. If he gives me what I want, I’ll turn over all my shares to you, giving full control to you once again. Wouldn’t that be nice?”                                                                                     “And what if he does not give you what he wants? Why do my workers have to pay the price?”                                                                                     “That sir, is what we refer to as collateral damage,” Dantanian replied, with a slight grin.                                                                                                  “Call him, Yuki, now!” her father ordered.                                                         “I told him I would call at around nine a.m. their time. I’m sure if Dr. Lystad understands how serious you are, He will do his best to cooperate. I will contact you at the conclusion of our conversation. Is that acceptable?” Yuki asked coldly.                                                                                     “That will be suitable. April will give you a number where we can be reached. I’m happy that I have your understanding and full cooperation. If Dr. Lystad refuses to give you a sample, then I’m going to have to come up with another way to persuade him that will be far more... unpleasant.”               She bit her tongue to avoid screaming at him.                                           Dantanian and his troupe departed, leaving Yuki, Hiroshi, and her father in the conference room sitting in silence. Her father spoke first.               “Yuki, this man is trouble, and I don’t like him any more than you do, but what other choice do we have? It’s not just the family we have to be concerned about; we have to think of all the employees here that could be affected.”                                                                                                  

She could hear the weariness in his voice and see it in his face. It pained her to see him like this. “I understand that, father, but how can I give him that which does not exist. I do not even know if what he is after is something Dr. Lystad has or is aware of. Perhaps someone else at Primase was conducting some strange experiment. I don’t know; I’m at a loss for words right now. Why is this man putting pressure on us if he wants something from Dr. Lystad? Why go through all this trouble just to get me to act? With this man’s power, he could just hire someone to get the samples, or just threaten Dr. Lystad directly. This makes no sense. Hopefully I’ll get something that Dantanian wants so we can move on.”               “Yuki, you have to understand, some men with power like to control others. He doesn’t care who he has to step on to get what he wants.  We are in agreement; I cannot see why it should be necessary to go to these lengths to extract something from the professor,” her father said as he reached for his oxygen.                                                                                                   “I think this man believes this is all a game to him,” Hiroshi remarked. “So maybe that is why he is not having a thug or gangster attack your professor directly. Maybe it is beneath him. That is my guess.”              

Ann Arbor:             

              The familiar ringtone of Dorian’s cell phone echoed in the hallway of his house as he was upstairs brushing his teeth. He peered through the adjacent bedroom and looked at the clock on his nightstand. It was nine a.m. and he had completely forgotten Yuki was supposed to call him at this time. Running downstairs with toothbrush and toothpaste foam in mouth, he managed to answer the call just before it went to voicemail.              

              “Just a sec,” he gurgled into the phone while running over to the kitchen sink. He poured a small glass of water and quickly swished and spit. “Sorry about that, I had a mouth full of toothpaste,” he said cheerfully. “How is everything- is your father well?” he replied, changing his tone to a more somber one in case she was delivering dreadful news of her father’s health.                                                                                                                 “My father is getting better, but he is still under quite a bit of stress that is affecting his health. Dr. Lystad, Dorian, I need your help and I don't know what to do.”                                                                                                                 “Of course, Yuki. What can I do for you?”                                                          “Do you remember when you were taking me to the airport and I told you that I thought that Theodore Dantanian was responsible for taking over my family's company?”                                                                                                   Dorian paused. “Yes, I seem to recall that. Why?”                                           “It turns out that he did take it over through one of his subsidiaries. I met with him again, only this time he was not asking nicely. He told me that if I do not get some sample from you, he is going to break apart our company and everyone will lose their jobs. This would affect over four thousand workers. Is there something you are hiding from me? Please tell me, I need to know what is going on.”                                                                      “I am so sorry to have brought this on you and your family, Yuki, I had no idea things would get so far out of control. If Dantanian wants a sample he can have one. I don’t want innocent people to be caught up in this. I don’t think we should say anything further over the phone, but I will be happy to talk to you in person.”                                                                                      They agreed to meet in Honolulu, Hawaii, on Monday evening and he would fly back on Tuesday afternoon. Dorian still had commitments to the University, so arrangements were made for personal time off.                             It was a tiring flight to California, and the connection to Hawaii made the day seem really long. After arriving at the airport in Hawaii he took a shuttle bus to the hotel and checked in. It was four p.m. and he was to meet Yuki at his hotel in three hours and give her the sample which he had to draw up from the supplies he packed.                                                                       He sat down on the bed in his room and proceeded to fill a small vacuum test tube with his blood. Then he placed it into a cooler. Afterwards, he called Yuki and told her he had the sample with him and was ready to meet with her.                                                                                                   Seven p.m. arrived and Yuki entered the hotel lobby. She was wearing a yellow flower print skirt and a white short sleeve button down blouse. Dorian was sitting in a lobby chair with the cooler in his lap and sunglasses on top of his platinum-white hair, his grey eyes fixed on her. He smiled as she caught his glance, and despite her extreme stress, she felt a peacefulness wash over her in his presence.                                                        “How do you want to do this?” he asked.                                                         “I have a driver outside waiting for us; we’re going to meet Dantanian at the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor.”