Hybrid Zone Recognition (9 page)

Everyone took their seats except for the two guys who’d come in with him. They stood in either corner of the room opposite the door. They were also the ones in the standard issue black this time, and I assumed they were some type of bodyguards.

The Director took the seat at the head of the table and everyone else, including Olivia, who’d abandoned me, was on the other side of the table. As they were all looking at me, I pulled out the nearest chair and sat down.

“Let’s get to it then,” the Director said. “I’m sure you are anxious for answers.”

“You got that right.” Oops. Did I say that out loud?

One look in Olivia’s direction confirmed it.

The Director only paused briefly, as if he’d chosen to overlook my indiscretion. That was good. I seemed to be getting less discrete by the minute.

“I’m Director Garrison,” he started again. Indicating Catman, he said, “This is Agent Michaels. Agent Michaels is the team lead for this particular project.”

I knew it and partial success on my mission to learn his name. I noted that he’d labeled Catman as an agent. I thought that implied some sort of government agency, which would confirm my suspicion and make me right again.

“Agent Needham, whom you’ve also met,” he said, motioning towards Olivia. “She’ll be your go to person for any requests that you have.”

She’d already said as much. I could tell by the expression on her face that she was thrilled with her position. I smiled reassuringly at her, but that only deepened her scowl.

“Next to Olivia, we have Agent Juarez.”

Agent Juarez had Native American Indian features. He was dressed casual in Khakis’ and a long sleeve button up, which was unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. He’d placed it over a tightly fitted white t-shirt, once again, treating me to an impressive display of male musculature clothed in cotton. There must be some health plan included in the hiring package.

“Agent Juarez is our technology expert, meaning computers, gadgets, etc. He can make you seem larger than life or not exist at all. So we try real hard to keep him happy,” the Director said with a smile.

Juarez inclined his head towards me, more in acknowledgement of his skill than in greeting I thought.

Don’t get on the computer genius’ bad side, check.

The Director’s tone was more somber now as he introduced the last person at the table. “Agent Pike is our resident procurement specialist.”

His pronouncement was greeted by soft chuckles around the room. Judging by their reaction, I took it that the term procurement was applied loosely.

Agent Pike smiled and waggled his eyebrows at me.

I scanned the t-shirt he wore. There was a squirrel standing on top of a pile of acorns, pointing out and saying, “Protect your nuts.” Funny.

There didn’t seem to be any rationale to the dress code. It seemed like the team members wore whatever they wanted. So why was I stuck in this suit when I preferred jeans and a t-shirt? My bet was on my look alike sitting across the table from me.

The score was once again even.

Introductions over with, Director Garrison looked at Agent Michaels and asked, “Assessment?”

Catman avoided my eyes as he began talking. “She maintains her composure well. Is not given to histrionics or belligerence, and she likes to eat. A lot.”

Wait a minute. Was he talking about me? And he said the last part like it was a bad thing. I frowned at his assessment. First of all, it was absurd that they were discussing me while I was sitting right here. Second of all, why were they so against eating?

“Agent Needham?”

“Hold on a minute,” I interrupted. “Are you seriously discussing me while I’m sitting right here? Shouldn’t you have done this before now?”

“The reason I brought you here was not to hear your assessment of my job performance, Dr. Greer,” the Director said somewhat coldly. “Do you have a problem with hearing what they have to say about you?”

“I couldn’t care less what their opinion of me is,” I said exasperated.

“But I do, which is the point.” He stared angrily at me until I waved him on.

“Speaks her mind,” Catman said, adding to his assessment.

I rolled my eyes to him in an obvious show of “bite me.” The narrowing of his eyes led me to believe he heard me loud and clear.

“Undoubtedly,” the Director said. “Agent Needham?”

“Mischievous. Scheming. You don’t see the trap coming.”

Well, someone was still upset.

Catman turned towards Olivia, confusion on his face, but she ignored him and finished her analysis. “Always thinking and figuring things out. Likable, in an annoying sort of way.”

Likable in an annoying sort of way? What the heck did that mean? Seemed like an oxymoron to me. And besides, I hadn’t even begun to be annoying yet.

The Director looked at me as if waiting for something. Did he want an apology? That wasn’t happening. Maybe it was my turn. I liked that idea.

“Statues. One with not only the ability to anticipate my needs but a demonstrative willingness to do so.” I nodded at Catman and then turned my gaze on Olivia. “And the other with a propensity for loud wake up calls and uncomfortable wardrobe choices. And, I would be remiss to omit her desperate need to chill out.”

Olivia abruptly cleared her throat and averted her eyes. I knew it was her.

“What are you talking about?” the Director asked blank faced.

Tired of being talked about like I wasn’t sitting right there, I said, “It was my turn. That’s my assessment of your people. And for future reference, it is incredibly rude to discuss a person while they are with you. But putting that aside, why have you, assuming it was your call, brought me here?”

The Director stared at me, his gray eyes like chips of ice after my outburst. Maybe he was rethinking his decision. At this point, I was almost too mad to care.

Catman didn’t seem too comfortable either. He was uncharacteristically squirming, if clasping his hands so tightly together that the white of his knuckles showed and rapid eye blinking counted as squirming.

“I’ve brought you here,” the Director said with his voice reflecting the coldness in his eyes, “because we have a need that I think you can fill. I am familiar with your work with the hybrids in New Orleans. I’m sure you have noticed some irregularities with our Agents you have been dealing with.”

I nodded. I’d only noticed any with Catman, but I’d suspected there were more.

“Your work with the HCF was mostly theoretical, academic. There was no experimentation or urgency with regard to your work. Now, there exists a need for you to step out of the book, so to speak, and actually perform.”

Actually, perform? Like what I had done to date meant nothing? I hoped it got better than this. His comments were insulting and somewhat degrading.

“Our problem is of the utmost urgency.” He paused, seeming to collect his thoughts. “We have made some astounding discoveries with our hybrids, had the birth of novel abilities.” He paused again. He seemed to be wrestling with what or how much to tell me.

Why hadn’t he figured out what he wanted to say before he came to the meeting? Annoyed with the delay his lack of preparation was causing, I offered, “That usually occurs with evolution. But I take it there is some problem.”

He reacted as though my interjection confused him. I’d been waiting two days already to find out the reason for my abduction, and my patience was razor thin. I wanted to yell at him and tell him to just say it already.

He regarded me for a long moment, and, once more, I found myself the subject of scrutiny by a person I didn’t know and therefore could not care less what he thought of me. Except, maybe I did. If he’d just tell me plainly what all this was about, I’d know if I cared about his impression of me. But then again, I was always just me, no matter who or what was involved.

The second he came to a decision concerning me, I saw it in his eyes. Maybe now I’d get some answers.

“The rate of evolution has increased dramatically,” he said. “And, we are finding the abilities less predictable.”

Predictability. There it was again. The HCF also had that as one of their goals.

“We are also experiencing difficulties related to proximity or exposure of humans to hybrids.”

That was new. “What kinds of problems?” I asked before he could move on.

He sat back in his chair and pursed his lips.

It reminded me of Miranda when she didn’t want to give an answer. If he was as stubborn as her, this could drag on forever. I couldn’t let that happen. I was pretty certain Miranda was in close proximity and at some level of exposure with the hybrid she had left with.

“Look,” I began, “as you know, I’m a molecular geneticist. I do not specialize in evolution per say. I work on the mechanics of the actual processes. Don’t you have people that are able to work on this for you?”

He smiled briefly in a show of tolerance regarding how little I knew.

That grated against my already tenderized nerves. Irksome was a word that was quickly becoming universal for how I felt about all of them.

Too late, I realized that I had swept my bangs aside. A brief look around the room told me I wasn’t the only one who had noticed. I also found that I was studiously drumming my fingernails against the table. Flattening my hand on the table, I cocked my head sideways as I swiveled my chair back to face the Director.

He glanced briefly at the knot, uncertainty written on his face. “I have been led to believe that you are tenacious, Dr. Greer. You get to the root of a problem, see the bigger picture, how everything fits together. Was I misinformed?”

Why the heck was he getting angry? As if I was wasting his time. He was the one who brought me here. For what I still didn’t know.

I leaned into the table, put my “what did you say” face on and said, “Excuse me.”

He leaned in too, mirroring my posture. “Was. I. Misinformed?” he said through clenched teeth.

“I don’t know,” I spat just slightly below a yell. “Did your source tell you that I would appreciate being kidnapped in the middle of the night and then made to wait until you deigned to show up and not answer my questions?”

The tension in the room increased dramatically at my response to his anger. As we leaned into the table, our gazes locked, I found myself in another staring contest. This was so juvenile.

“Just tell me plainly what is going on and why you have brought me here,” I said calmly enough to pull us back from the brink of shouting, but forcefully enough to let him know that I still meant business.

He seemed to visibly collect himself at my demand. Taking a deep breath, he purposefully sat back in his chair. “I apologize, Dr. Greer. This matter is most serious, and I do not have time to waste. If I have the wrong person, I need to know.”

I studied his face a moment, fighting the urge to yell and call him an idiot. The fact that I didn’t see any malice in his expression aided my struggle. Pulling away from the table slightly, I clasped my hands in front of me and tried to keep my voice level when I spoke.

“How am I supposed to tell you if I’m who you need, when I don’t even know what the problem is? Regarding the subject of hybrids, I am the best that I know of. That’s not arrogance, just fact. And, I do have an uncanny ability to unravel the puzzle of it all. However, with the little bit of observation that I have been able to do, I can tell that your hybrids are superior or more advanced than what I have been working with. This means there’s a whole field of research that I have not been privy too. A fact which greatly annoys me.”

I didn’t want to admit this next part because I wanted at the research that I had missed out on. But the sincerity of his plea and the potential seriousness of the situation convinced me that, as he said, he needed to know.

“I’m sure you have really smart people working for you already that are familiar with the genetics at work here. I would have to play catch up, and if time is a factor, then I’m not sure what I could offer that they haven’t already provided or are on the brink of providing.”

He nodded sharply once. “I appreciate your honesty, Dr. Greer, and I understand your hesitancy. You are not wrong in your assumption that I have plenty of smart people working for me. But they have tried to solve this problem and gotten nowhere. I don’t need any more smart people. I need a brilliant person who’s a problem solver. I believe that person is you.”

How did I respond to that sort of statement? He’d just called me brilliant—aw shucks.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I was definitely intrigued, but not enough to agree to anything without knowing the specifics.

He began absently tapping a knuckle on the edge of the table then quickly leaned forward. “Dr. Greer, the conclusions that you have reached singly in two years and with a meager budget, took my team of twenty four of the world’s best scientists fifteen years to reach. And that was with an enormous budget.”

Fifteen years? How long had they been at this? So, what, they needed my speed? And he had full access to my work?

When he didn’t continue, I picked up my notepad. “What exactly are you Director of? What agency?”

After asking the question, I looked up at him. His expression clearly let me know that was not what he was looking for from me, but I wasn’t agreeing to anything until I got some answers to my questions.

He folded his hands together on top of the table and once again engaged me in a staring contest. I maintained our locked status until I saw the resignation cross his face. That was a good boy.

“The HCF is an extension of the work we do here. At this time, any work you do for us will be under the auspicious of the HCF.”

“But you are not HCF?”

“No, technically the HCF is part of us. But we operate at a more classified level than the HCF.”

That was news to me. I didn’t know there was a higher level, not when it came to hybrid technology. Considering I was the reigning expert, I really should have.

“So, you work for the United States Government?”

“Officially, no.”

“Unofficially?”

“Yes.”

His answer added to my anger with the government, who obviously had been holding out on me. Why was I not brought into this before now? Why had I been kept to the periphery when there was a whole lot more going on than what I had been working with?

Maybe that was the answer. I had played my part as defined by the government. I would be sure not to let them define me again.

“Do you work for any other government, officially or otherwise?”

“No.”

“Are you funded by the US Government?”

“Partially. Though not officially.”