Veil (41 page)

Suren dodged Hunter’s attempt at taking the
tray from her hands and skirted around him playfully. All was
forgiven.

“Already? Really? They’re already made? That
was … that was beyond fast. Ken was right
.
You can work some miracles.”

“If I could work miracles, I’d be in the wine
making business. Is Ken single?” Hunter asked without missing a
beat.

Suren was about to joke back at Hunter’s wine
wisecrack
,
but his last three words
shocked her
.

“Is … is he what?” she responded. She wanted
to make sure she heard him correctly and tried to figure out why
he’d ask such a question, if that were actually what he asked.

“Single. Is he single?”

“Ummm … I think so. I mean, he hasn’t said
anything about anyone,” she shrugged. Now that she thought about
it, she realized she had no idea if Ken was in a relationship or
not. She assumed he wasn’t. It never came up. “I think he is
single, yes.”

“Cool. He’s cute in that dorky, uptight kinda
way. Plus a cute butt. But anyway yeah, I was hoping he was coming
with you so we could do the payment. He said he had the funds
available, and I don’t want to use anything of my own because I
don’t want to raise any suspicions or send out any clues. Not until
we’re all in the clear.”

Suren remained frozen and unsure how to
respond. She couldn’t be certain if Hunter was messing around with
her, although she couldn’t imagine a man joking about stuff like
that. And in that manner. She knew she had to say something,
though.

“Uh, well, I mean, don’t worry about it. I
can pay it, to get it out of the way. That’s no big deal,” she
offered and was already reaching for her purse, which was on the
table next to the tray of food. “And about the other stuff, well, I
would maybe not say anything to Ken about all that. Just my
advice.”

“Oh honey, I know how to work them,” Hunter
crowed and grabbed the credit card she was holding up.

Oh!
He’s a gay
.

She wasn’t sure how—or if—she should tell
Ken.

A gay!

Schaffer shot Pollock a scowl and resumed
addressing the General.

“He’s correct
.
The
test run failed,” Schaffer continued. “Despite myself and Pollock’s
two successful runs the previous weekend, the test-Veil we
conducted Friday failed. We spent the greater part of the weekend
trying to figure out what malfunction had taken place. We went back
through all the steps and verified everything was done up to speed.
To be sure, we did another test run on each other. Since the device
instantly replaces the removed neuroelectricity with an artificial
current for the duration of the Veil, the subject doing the
shadowing doesn’t have to be placed on life support. That meant
that Pollock and I could try the device on each other without a
third party. We did several test runs that way, and they were all …
unsuccessful.”

“Don’t forget the calls,” Pollock spoke up.
Once again his voice was awkwardly raised and he sounded
anxious
.
“We called Hunter a bunch of
times over the weekend. Tell him about that.”

Schaffer rolled his eyes but confirmed, “Yes.
I also messaged and called Dr. Kennerly a few times over the
weekend but was unable to make contact. His cellphone went straight
to voicemail and there was no answer at his quarters. After no
contact had been made by this morning, and still being unable to
get the device to function, I decided to send the lieutenant to Dr.
Kennerly’s quarters to retrieve him.”

General Coffman took a deep breath.

With a controlled, steady tone he started,
“So, let me get this straight. By, say, yesterday afternoon, one
full week since either of you had seen Hunter Kennerly, it never
dawned on either of you to notify me, your commanding officer?
Forget protocols, forget procedures. Out of concern for his
wellbeing and some semblance of basic respect for the chain of
command” —by then the General’s tone gradually increased back to a
thundering yell—“neither of you motherfucking fucktards considered
perhaps you should notify me?” He tapped forcefully on his chest
with his index finger. “Notify your goddamned commanding officer?
Notify him that another man under his command went from sick to,
for all intents and purposes, missing? That never occurred to
either one of you piece of shit idiots?”

“Sir … sir—” Schaffer pleaded and at the same
time struggled to figure out what he was going to say to defend at
least himself, if not both of them.

Pollock raised his arm, pointed in Schaffer’s
direction and interrupted him by shouting, “Schaffer’s gay!”

“How were they?”

“Fine. Tired and hungry.”

“Not surprised.”

“Oh and the Veils are being shipped. From
California. They’ll be here tomorrow morning. I went ahead and paid
for them.”

“What? They’re done?” Ken jumped off the
couch. The remote fell off his lap with a loud thud, which was
accompanied by the sound of plastic breaking. The sound didn’t faze
him. “They’re done,” he answered himself. “Maybe I should go back
there tonight so I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

“Hunter said there was nothing you two could
do until you had the Veils in your hands,” she tried to dissuade
him.

He snatched up his coat and keys. He sped by
Suren and then backtracked enough to kiss her on the cheek before
he sprinted to the door while shouting, “He’s wrong! We left
something out. Come to the lab tomorrow morning!”

He bolted through the door and was closing it
behind him.

“Ken!” Suren called out to stop him.

He opened the door enough to poke his head
through. “I’ll pay you back, don’t worry.”

“N-No,” she was caught off guard. “I don’t
care about that. It’s j—just. It’s … Hunter is a gay!” she
squawked. She didn’t intend to shout it as loudly as she did. It
kind of escaped out of her, and she covered her mouth afterwards.
She fought back a giggle.

Ken furrowed his brow but smiled and shook
his head back and forth.

“So what? See you in the morning, lady!” He
pulled the door closed and was gone.

Suren suddenly felt silly. She chuckled at
herself. Maybe instead she should have gone with “he thinks your
butt is cute.” She headed to the kitchen but stopped in her tracks.
She cocked her head a bit, and for the first time wondered if any
men ever thought Jin was attractive in that way. She never
considered it before.

She then thought about how Jin would’ve
reacted if faced with that news, and she began to laugh again. The
more she thought about how uncomfortable it would’ve made him—not
because he didn’t approve of gays, but because it was an attraction
from another man—the more she imagined the look on his face.

She laughed herself into hysterics at that
image and calmed herself down by pouring a glass of
wine
.

God, I gotta remember to tell Ken that
one
.

The other two men were stiff and perplexed by
the outburst.

Uncomfortable with the sudden silence,
Pollock carried on. “He is! He’s like in love with Dr. Kennerly or
something!” He was still pointing at Schaffer.

Schaffer took a deep breath and turned toward
Pollock, who lowered his arm. Although in that moment his brain
didn’t recall it, his face remembered getting punched by Schaffer
once before, so he tensed. The General pushed himself off the
table, positioned himself between the two scientists and put his
arms out. Schaffer took a step forward at the same time, and his
chest was met by the General’s palm.

General Coffman held his position and spoke
softly but deeply.

“Now the two of you listen to me. Listen to
every fucking word that I say. Carefully.”

Schaffer pressed his chest against the
General’s palm but not with enough force to bend the General’s arm.
He only did so with enough force to send the General a message.
Schaffer wasn’t sure what the message was. Maybe that he was a real
man and wasn’t going to back down. He just knew he couldn’t stop
going at Pollock without some appearance of a fight at first.

The General glared at Pollock and spoke
directly to him.

“You. Go to your office and start calling
every hospital within a twenty-mile radius. Call every police
station. Call the fucking Bureau and tell them you need his fucking
phone and credit cards reviewed. And you needed it goddamn
yesterday.”

Sheepishly, Pollock replied, “Yes sir, right
away.” He promptly turned around and walked to his office.

After Pollock crossed the lab, entered his
office and shut the door, the General exhaled and turned to face
Schaffer. The General’s palm was still holding Schaffer back, so he
thrust his arm out and pushed against Schaffer’s chest with enough
force to send him stumbling back.

“Cocksucker or not, after Hunter, you’re the
best man I’ve got in here,” the General growled and pointed in the
direction of the lab.

Schaffer started to speak up in
defense
,
but the General wasn’t having
it.

“Don’t! No, you fucking listen.”

Schaffer was filled with the strongest urge
to spit in the General’s face and walk out the door. The urge
lasted approximately two seconds.

“Gay or not, I blame you for this. Pollock is
about one step up from walking in here every day with dried drool
on his chin and his shoelaces untied. The only reason he’s in my
lab is because of his fucking daddy. You earned your commission
here. Although it was the right move
,
the
fact alone I had to bring Hunter in here to work on this—a favor
you personally requested—should be a fucking embarrassment to you.
The fact that he’s now been missing for eight days is a disgrace.
To you. Fuck Pollock. This is on you. Be gay all you want, but
don’t be a fucking faggot. Do not say one fucking word to me. Walk
out of this office and find him. Call the house where his friend,
that Elsbeth guy, was staying. Talk to him. Review the surveillance
tapes from the building. Track his movements. He could be in the
hospital; he could be dead; he could’ve been fucking abducted for
all we goddamn know. Find Hunter Kennerly. Find him
right
fucking
now
.”

By the end of his tirade, the General was
hissing through his teeth in a voice Schaffer had never heard come
out of him. Schaffer didn’t say a word. He turned his body to the
side so he could inch by the General and still stay as far from him
as possible. He walked through the door of the conference room and
out into the lab.

As Schaffer made his way to his office, he
heard the General yell something unintelligible, followed by a
rather thundering sound of glass busting and shattering, and then a
clanging metallic crash. Schaffer did not turn around but if forced
to make a guess, he would have figured the sound was of a chair
being thrown through the glass wall that separated the conference
room and the lab. Schaffer opened his office door, ran through, and
immediately slammed it behind him. He lunged for the trashcan
sitting next to his desk, buckled over
,
and dry heaved three times before he finally vomited. He vomited
until his stomach was empty and he returned to dry heaving. He
carried on like that until he produced bile.