Scott, taking an
aggressive step toward Dallas.
“Scott, we have her,” said Ryan, saving his life.
“What?” asked Scott, halting his advance and turning his
attention to Ryan.
“We made contact with her yesterday evening in
Baltimore,” explained Ryan. “While we were having a nice conversation, two
thugs were tailing her like you suspected. They received an order from someone
and they tried to take her. They’re probably still duct taped in a dumpster.”
“So she’s okay?” asked Scott, needing more
clarification. “Where is she?”
“She’s fine. One of my people is with her now. I hope
you understand I can’t tell you exactly where.”
“No, no, I understand,” said Scott, calming down and
taking a seat at the table. “I’m sorry for getting so upset. You don’t know how
much she doesn’t deserve to be involved in all this.”
“Actually, I do,” said Ryan. “The fact that my boss
wants her out of the picture makes you one of the few I believe. With that
phone call, he effectively removed all doubt he can’t be trusted. I still don’t
know how involved he might be in any conspiracy, but I certainly can’t let him
know I have Kristina.”
“This is getting out of control, Ryan,” said Scott. “I’m
looking over my shoulder every second of every day. I can’t trust my own
people, the military or the federal government. If the second most powerful man
in the FBI is in on this, how do we fight that? How do we end this?”
“Scott, listen to me,” said Ryan in a calming voice.
“You’re doing great. I just need you to hold it together a little while longer.
I’ll sort this out. But I need you to tell me everything you know. I need to
know what happened to those Marines at the lab. I need to know why they’re
killing.”
“Ryan, I don’t know what happened to them,” said Scott.
“I really don’t. I have theories, but absolutely no evidence. I wasn’t a part
of the Didache Project. I was working on a different project, trying to figure
out ways to make their metabolism more efficient.”
“Then why did they choose you to lead the forensics team
in Virginia?” asked Ryan. “Do you have a background in crime scene
investigation?”
“I told you at the farmhouse, I’m here to clean up after
you guys,” explained Scott. “That’s what we do. Those Marines are property of
the U.S. Military. Let me put it to you this way: those four men are the most
expensive weapons ever created in the history of warfare. You could build a
fleet of nuclear submarines with the amount of government funding allocated to
genetic research over the past ten years. Most of that money has been awarded
to the Michaels Laboratory. Losing one microscope slide of their DNA would
constitute a catastrophic breach of national security. It’s my job to recover
every drop of blood or piece of tissue they leave behind. I have nothing to do
with the actual investigation.”
“So who’s collecting evidence and feeding us information
about where to go to next?” asked Dallas.
“There’s another team that travels with us, but we never
speak,” said Scott. “I mean not a word. No ‘good morning,’ no ‘how’s the family,’
no ‘fuck you.’ They poke around as we recover biological material. Every once
in a while, they’ll get on their cell phones, but I don’t know who’s in charge.
Well, I mean I don’t know for sure.”
“Okay, understanding you don’t know for sure, who do you
think it is?” baited Ryan.
“Ask Kristina about Colonel Marcus Brown,” conceded
Scott. “He’s the Marine military liaison and the commanding officer of every
soldier at the lab. I’ve only bumped into him in the hallways. Kristina worked
very closely with him. She’s not a fan.”
“Will do,” said Ryan. “Hang in there, buddy.”
“Easier said than done. You don’t know these guys.”
“That’s going to change very soon.”
“Scott, what are the chances of you getting ahold of
aggressive step toward Dallas.
“Scott, we have her,” said Ryan, saving his life.
“What?” asked Scott, halting his advance and turning his
attention to Ryan.
“We made contact with her yesterday evening in
Baltimore,” explained Ryan. “While we were having a nice conversation, two
thugs were tailing her like you suspected. They received an order from someone
and they tried to take her. They’re probably still duct taped in a dumpster.”
“So she’s okay?” asked Scott, needing more
clarification. “Where is she?”
“She’s fine. One of my people is with her now. I hope
you understand I can’t tell you exactly where.”
“No, no, I understand,” said Scott, calming down and
taking a seat at the table. “I’m sorry for getting so upset. You don’t know how
much she doesn’t deserve to be involved in all this.”
“Actually, I do,” said Ryan. “The fact that my boss
wants her out of the picture makes you one of the few I believe. With that
phone call, he effectively removed all doubt he can’t be trusted. I still don’t
know how involved he might be in any conspiracy, but I certainly can’t let him
know I have Kristina.”
“This is getting out of control, Ryan,” said Scott. “I’m
looking over my shoulder every second of every day. I can’t trust my own
people, the military or the federal government. If the second most powerful man
in the FBI is in on this, how do we fight that? How do we end this?”
“Scott, listen to me,” said Ryan in a calming voice.
“You’re doing great. I just need you to hold it together a little while longer.
I’ll sort this out. But I need you to tell me everything you know. I need to
know what happened to those Marines at the lab. I need to know why they’re
killing.”
“Ryan, I don’t know what happened to them,” said Scott.
“I really don’t. I have theories, but absolutely no evidence. I wasn’t a part
of the Didache Project. I was working on a different project, trying to figure
out ways to make their metabolism more efficient.”
“Then why did they choose you to lead the forensics team
in Virginia?” asked Ryan. “Do you have a background in crime scene
investigation?”
“I told you at the farmhouse, I’m here to clean up after
you guys,” explained Scott. “That’s what we do. Those Marines are property of
the U.S. Military. Let me put it to you this way: those four men are the most
expensive weapons ever created in the history of warfare. You could build a
fleet of nuclear submarines with the amount of government funding allocated to
genetic research over the past ten years. Most of that money has been awarded
to the Michaels Laboratory. Losing one microscope slide of their DNA would
constitute a catastrophic breach of national security. It’s my job to recover
every drop of blood or piece of tissue they leave behind. I have nothing to do
with the actual investigation.”
“So who’s collecting evidence and feeding us information
about where to go to next?” asked Dallas.
“There’s another team that travels with us, but we never
speak,” said Scott. “I mean not a word. No ‘good morning,’ no ‘how’s the family,’
no ‘fuck you.’ They poke around as we recover biological material. Every once
in a while, they’ll get on their cell phones, but I don’t know who’s in charge.
Well, I mean I don’t know for sure.”
“Okay, understanding you don’t know for sure, who do you
think it is?” baited Ryan.
“Ask Kristina about Colonel Marcus Brown,” conceded
Scott. “He’s the Marine military liaison and the commanding officer of every
soldier at the lab. I’ve only bumped into him in the hallways. Kristina worked
very closely with him. She’s not a fan.”
“Will do,” said Ryan. “Hang in there, buddy.”
“Easier said than done. You don’t know these guys.”
“That’s going to change very soon.”
“Scott, what are the chances of you getting ahold of
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