Gone (11 page)

Read Gone Online

Authors: Francine Pascal

That was the end of the communication. The soldiers, pulled out of position and drove north. Please advise.

Memo

From:
L

To:
KS5

This is excellent work. You have more than made up for your prior failures. If my instincts are correct, then this is the pivotal piece of information I was missing. I believe the boy may be within our reach. Await further instructions. And send medical supplies to the loft ASAP.

Phase Two

DR. RODKE WAS NOT ONE TO PANIC. He kept a stiff upper lip. He never let anything faze him. It was one of the keys to his success. But after hearing General Colter's voice on the phone, he couldn't help it. He was panicked. Something was wrong. He could hear it in the general's voice. Colter was pissed, and Rodke was now sweating bullets under his Brooks Brothers jacket. His blood pressure was rising. Even his driving was erratic. He'd already run two red lights in his Mercedes, and he'd nearly sideswiped a taxi, pounding angrily on his horn like the most low-class of New Yorkers. It was downright embarrassing to be so frazzled.

The general had demanded an immediate meeting, but he wouldn't say why. All he'd said was for Rodke to meet him on the corner of Rector Street and Broadway and to be there within fifteen minutes. Rodke had barely used his brakes for the entire drive downtown. He'd prayed the whole way that he wouldn't have any run-ins with the NYPD.

What could have gone wrong? It had to be about that missing contract. Rodke was sure Chris had stolen it, and he'd had his people out searching for Chris all day with no luck. But what could Chris have possibly done with that classified information? What could a seventeen-year-old boy possibly do to screw up this deal? Rodke couldn't think of a thing, and that
was what was panicking him the most. Not knowing.

He finally made it down to Rector Street, and he could see the general's limo parked on the corner. Rodke pulled up right behind the general and got out of his car. He activated the alarm and then trotted toward the limo as the back door swung open, a signal for him to get in. He leaned down and peered into the car's dimly lit interior. A lone shaft of light illuminated the general's icy expression. He was sitting on the black leather seat, alone and impatient.

“Get in,” Colter ordered.

Rodke had never been one to take orders, but in this case he had to make an exception. He gathered himself and climbed into the seat opposite the general.

“All right, what's the problem?” Rodke demanded.

“Close the door,” Colter ordered.

Rodke was so frazzled, he hadn't even remembered the door. He leaned forward and slammed it closed, sitting back in his seat and staring expectantly at Colter in the near darkness. “So… ?”

Colter fixed his cold stare on Rodke. It was a punishing stare. A “shame-on-you” stare. The kind of look Rodke had given Chris a thousand times before. It was offensive as hell.

“The deal is off,” Colter declared.

“What are you talking about?” Rodke forced a half smile, as if the general were possibly joking. “We've already signed the contracts.”

“That contract is null and void.”

“Null and void?” He let out another puff of nervous laughter. “I don't see what could possibly—”

“You're a liar, Rodke.”


Excuse
me?”

“You heard what I said. That contract is a bunch of lies. One
hundred
percent free of side effects? One
hundred
percent safe? That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. That stuff is a goddamn nightmare. That stuff turns men into animals. You wanted to put
my
soldiers on that stuff? What kind of sicko are you?”

“I'm sorry, I—I—” Rodke was stammering with confusion. Where the hell was all this coming from? “General, we haven't even completed the prototype for the drug. How could you possibly—?”

“Your son Chris was kind enough to set up a little demonstration for me. He showed me what that drug does to people. He opened my eyes, and thank God he did, Rodke. That's all I can say for you. Thank God he did.”

Chris. I knew it.

Rodke was suddenly so livid, he could hardly breathe. He'd been blindsided by his own son. Chris had gotten to the general somehow. And he'd obviously set up some sort of dog-and-pony show using his drug-addict test subjects for his “demonstration.” That petty, vengeful little… Chris had finally taken his jealousy and his resentment too far. He was using Invince to try to blow the deal when he didn't even
know the real details of the operation. For a moment Rodke honestly felt like strangling his own son . But he couldn't let his anger get the better of him. He would deal with Chris later. Right now he needed to do some serious and immediate damage control.

He would have to let Colter in on
all
the details of the operation. He simply had no choice if he wanted to save this deal.

“All, right, General, just hold on,” Rodke insisted. “Just relax for a moment and listen to me, all right? My
son
is the one giving you the misinformation, and I can explain.”

“What can you explain? This drug turns men into savages. Explain
that.

“Look, I'm sure that whatever you saw was very ugly, but you need to understand this, General… The drug that those lunatics were on—Invince—that is
not
the drug we are selling you. The drug that Chris has been distributing is a very
old,
very
early
test version of the pill.”

“An old version. That's your excuse?”

“It's no excuse. It's the truth. Invince was an early prototype that was
accidentally
leaked to the public by my son.” It was, in fact, no accident, but Colter didn't need to know that right now.

“Well, where the hell's the
new
version of the drug?” Colter snapped. “Get to the goddamn point, Rodke.”

“I am getting to the point, General, if you would just listen. The point is, my people are just now in the process of developing the
final
prototype for the drug. The perfect version of the drug. The version that we will be selling to you.”

“Well, what the hell's the holdup? And give it to me in English. I don't want to hear a bunch of scientific mumbo jumbo.”

“That is what I'm trying to do, General. I will give it to you in plain English.” He took a breath to stay calm and composed. “Okay, here's the thing about this pill,” Rodke began. “You have to understand, the fearless properties of this pill are all derived from this one… specimen—this one… animal. She is a
very rare
animal that for some reason is genetically immune to fear.”

“What kind of animal?”

“What kind of animal…?”

“Yes. What kind of animal is this
‘she'
? I obviously need to know a hell of a lot more than you're telling me.”

Apparently a few white lies would be necessary. “Well… she's a primate.”

“A monkey.”

“Yes, that's right,” Rodke lied. “She's a monkey. And we have been using her DNA samples—this… monkey—to create our early prototypes for the drug. We wanted to run as many tests as possible using a
live
specimen. But that was only phase one of our study,
General. We've always known that a live specimen would only provide us with so much information. But we are now in the final stages of the operation, and we've been prepping her for phase two.”

“And what is
phase two?
” The general looked dubious.

“Well… phase two will be the complete dissection of the specimen.”

Colter stared long and hard at Rodke. “So you're telling me you need to chop up this monkey to get all the info you need? That's it? That's the holdup?”

Rodke coughed with discomfort. When the general put it that way, it made him feel a little ill. Perhaps even a little guilty about what they were doing to her. But he recovered quickly. “Well … yes. That is basically what I'm telling you. The DNA samples alone were never going to give us all the information we needed. The biology behind her fearlessness is extremely complicated, and it needs to be studied in total. In order to create the perfect prototype for the drug, Dr. Ulrich needs to dissect the specimen. He needs to do a full autopsy on her—examine every one of her organs individually—the heart, the brain, the spine, etc. Then we'll have the final results we need, and then we can build you the perfect drug. I-25d. The final prototype. No side effects, as promised. One hundred percent effective and one hundred percent safe.”

Colter sat there in silence, processing the information and sizing up Rodke with a long, discomforting stare. “This better not be a bunch of bull,” he said finally.

“This is no bull, General, I assure you.”

Another painful silence.

“All right, fine,” Colter huffed. “I'll give you seventy-two hours. That's it. You tell your people to chop up that goddamn monkey ASAP. You chop her into as many pieces as you need, and you get me a drug that works. Otherwise the deal is off.”

“Absolutely,” Rodke said, holding back his slight nausea at Colter's choice of words. “I've got my people working on it right now. The autopsy will be done by tomorrow night.”

“It better be. Now get out.”

Colter swung open the door and didn't give Rodke another look.

“We'll be speaking shortly,” Rodke said pointlessly.

He got out of the limo and walked back to his car, picking up the pace with every step.

Chris, you're going to have to pay for this. Somehow, some way, you are going to have to pay.

Rodke's pulse began to quicken again with nerves. Everything had to be rushed now, and he hated that. But there was no longer any choice in the matter, thanks to Chris. He had to get in touch with Skyler and let him know. They were bumping up the schedule and they were moving to phase two as of right
now. He had to meet with Ulrich ASAP to shore up the plan. They needed to start prepping the lab posthaste. No ifs, ands, or buts …

Her autopsy needed to be over and done with by tomorrow night.

Manhandled

“SO, GAIA, I'VE BEEN THINKING. About this whole prom thing…”

Skyler poured them each a glass of red wine and then he sat back down on the couch, lifting Gaia's legs onto his lap and pulling her closer. Gaia couldn't stand to be manhandled, but she grinned playfully. “What about it?” she asked.

“Well…” He took a sip of wine and swished it around in his mouth like a connoisseur. What a pretentious ass. She smiled again. “I gotta be honest here….”

“Oh, by all means,” Gaia said, sipping from her wine. “I want us to be completely honest with each other, Skyler.” Had more absurd words ever been spoken?

“Well, I've just been thinking about our talk before and about the e-mail to Jake, and I've got to tell you, I really don't think we should go to this prom.”

“You don't?”

“I honestly don't. I mean, let's look at the facts. We've already established that you never really made any friends at this school. There's really no one you'd want to see there.”

Well, almost no one. But the people she'd want to see probably wouldn't want to see her at this point.

“And I really don't think you want to be sitting there in that hideously decorated Supper Club, surrounded by a bunch of kids in poufy dresses who think that the senior prom is the be-all, end-all of existence. That's just not you.”

She had to give it to him. He was right about that, too.

“And I know why,” he said. “There is a very obvious reason that you just don't fit in with those kids.”

Now this she wanted to hear. Gaia would even accept insights from her archnemesis on this topic. If someone honestly thought they knew why she lived in a permanent state of alienation, she was all ears. “Why?” she asked, sounding more curious than she'd intended.

“Because,” Skyler said. He leaned closer and examined every aspect of her face, landing squarely on her eyes. “You're just not a kid. It's that simple. You're a woman living in a seventeen-year-old's body. That's why you never fit in. That's why you can't make these ‘kid' relationships work with these
boys.
It's everything
about you… the way you talk, the way you think. I mean, it's in your eyes. These inhuman blue eyes of yours… even your eyes are speckled with gray. There's all this wisdom in them—like you've seen everything already—distant lands and epic battles.” He laughed. “Like you're Odysseus or something, you know? Just… an incredibly beautiful female version…”

Skyler trailed off, but his eyes stayed locked with hers. And God help her, she couldn't break the eye contact. Not because she was playing her flirtation game, but because Skyler had managed to strike at something again. Something real. Something painfully true about her fish-out-of-water existence.

He was right. She wasn't a kid. She didn't even know how to be one. And she'd already lost her chance. She'd ceased to be a kid the night her father had abandoned her in that hospital at the age of twelve, while she was still reeling with shock from the death of her mother.

Maybe she was never really a kid. As far as she could tell, so much of growing up seemed to be learning how to overcome your fears, but her fears had been overcome since the day she was born—with the exception of a few very insane weeks of her life. Maybe that was why she was so unbearably cynical. Because she had basically been an adult for seventeen years. And she had been completely sapped of optimism.

She probably would have stayed pathetically glued to
Skyler's eyes for minutes more had it not been for the gunfire.

A sudden thunderous blast of machine-gun fire flooded the room, nearly puncturing Gaia's eardrums and shaking the floor. The sound of shattering windows was deafening. Skyler's entire body shook as his glass of wine went crashing to the ground.

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