Abomination (11 page)

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Authors: E. E. Borton

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Thrillers

BOOK: Abomination
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“You think this is funny?” said 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 the
autopsy reports from the three women Arrington buried in the basement in
Virginia?”

“Actually, pretty good,” said Scott. “The bodies were
taken back to the lab in Maine. They’re basically being scrubbed for any
biological material left behind, like Arrington’s saliva, hair or blood. We use
the reports to identify wounds that may contain material. I’ll make copies and
try to get them to you in the next few days.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

“I need to go,” said Scott. “Please tell Kristina I’m
sorry. I hope she understands why I’m doing this.”

“Consider it done.”

As soon as Scott appeared in the doorway, the security
detail quickly scanned the area and then returned to the vehicles. The small
convoy turned the corner and headed for the interstate. They sped by two
intoxicated tourists hugging the walls, still clutching their large cups of
dragster fuel. Their numerous Mardi Gras beads glistened as the headlights from
the vehicles lit up the corner and then disappeared down Canal Street.

“Quite a bit of activity tonight at the feds clubhouse,”
said Joshua Bell.

“Scott looked pissed,” said Derek Mathews, guzzling the
rest of his soda.

“Easy on that pop, Derek. You don’t want to rot your
teeth.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I didn’t see the female agent go into the house,”
mentioned Joshua. “I wonder where she disappeared.”

“Is that important?” asked Derek.

“No, not really. We’ll deal with her and the rest of
them later.”

“I just wish there was another way,” said Derek,
lowering his eyes to the ground.

“There isn’t,” replied Joshua. “I don’t want to
sacrifice him either. But when we give them Richard, the only one that can get
close to us will be Alex. And when we remove him from the equation, we’ll make
them all pay for what they did to us.”

“Richard goes fast,” demanded Derek. “We need to make
sure of that. I don’t want him feeling the agony Peter did.”

“Okay. We’ll make sure,” said Joshua, “But either way,
you and I are going to feel it. There’s no getting around that.”

“I don’t want to get around it,” said Derek, becoming
angry. “I want to remember how it feels. I want to remember when I’m making all
of them feel it, too.”

“It’s about time you started coming around, Derek. I
have to admit I was beginning to worry you might soften up like the others.”

“Don’t worry about me. Those bastards deserve everything
we’re going to give them.”

“Good, brother. That’s what I like to hear. Now, all
this talk of a reckoning is making me hungry. Let’s go grab someone to eat.”

9
What’s Up, Doc?

 

 

Michelle heard the heavy footsteps of a man on the front
porch. She put her hand on her weapon as she approached the door. The smoked
glass made it difficult for her to identify the visitor. A light knock and a
whisper lowered her guard.

“It would help if you’d call before strolling over
here,” said Michelle.

“Sorry,” said Ryan. “Is she awake?”

“I don’t think she’ll be sleeping anytime soon. I can’t
blame her for being a little rattled. She told me about you making her run down
an alley as bait so you could TKO the bad guy. A trash can lid?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice touch,” said Michelle, walking him into the living
room where Kristina was sitting.

“How are you holding up?” asked Ryan.

“I wish I knew how Emma was doing. She must be scared to
death.”

“Michelle?”

“I’m on it, Boss,” said Michelle, grabbing her
untraceable phone and walking into the kitchen.

“Scott Wilson was here a few minutes ago. He wanted me
to tell you he was sorry you became involved. He seems to be genuinely worried
about you.”

“He was always worrying about me. Most of the men in my
life do worry. I think they see me as frail and easily breakable. I’m not a
weak person, Ryan.”

“I don’t believe you are, Kristina. But I can see where
others would want to protect you from the ugly things that are out there.”

“That sounded a little patronizing,” she said.

“Not my intent. We could all use a little protecting
every now and then. It’s why I need your help. But I’m not here now to ask you
questions. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and as comfortable as
possible under these circumstances.”

“I’m fine, really. I am a little tired, though.”

“I know it won’t be easy, but try to get some sleep,”
said Ryan as Michelle returned.

“Good news, Kristina. Emma was released from the E.R.
shortly after you left Richmond. She had a little bruising around her neck, but
she’s fine.”

“She’s going to be worried sick about me. Is there any
way –”

“I’m sorry, there isn’t,” interrupted Ryan. “The men
after you will be watching her every move and listening to every word she says.
If you contact her, you’ll unknowingly put her in harm’s way. She’ll be in more
danger if she knows where you are.”

“Is this where you tell me to trust you again?” asked
Kristina.

“I’m afraid so.”

“If anything else happens to her, I won’t be the only
person I can’t forgive. After I lost my mother, Emma is the closest thing to
family I have left.”

“Try to get some rest. We’ll be starting early.”

Michelle walked Ryan to the door. “Do you think she’ll
try to contact her?”

“I don’t think so, but you need to make sure she
doesn’t.”

“What did you do with her phone?” asked Michelle.

“We threw it away,” smiled Ryan as he left.

 

*****

 


Yes, I’m sure. According to the GPS in her phone,
you’re right on top of it.”

“Okay, but we don’t see her out in the open – wait.”

The men heard rustling in the dumpster a few feet away.
One held up his finger to his mouth as he pulled his weapon.

“Stand by. We may have found her hiding place,” he
whispered into his radio.

One man held his gun on the large container as the other
quickly flipped open the lid. Pointing his flashlight into the garbage, he
looked down to see their two missing associates bound and covered in blood. On
the severely swollen face of one, a cell phone was duct taped to his forehead.

“Fuck,” said the man holding the gun.


What’s your status, Blue Team? Do you have her?”

“Negative. But we did find her phone and Red Team.”

 

*****

 

“Colonel, we’ve got a problem,” said Alex Tifton,
walking in to the secure operations center at the Michaels Laboratory in Bar
Harbor, Maine. “Dr. Anderson slipped away, but she seems to have acquired some
help.”

“How do you know?” asked Colonel Marcus Brown.

“Two men from Red Team were just found beaten half to
death, bound, and thrown in a dumpster with her cell phone taped to one of
their foreheads. I don’t think she did that.”

“Jesus Christ,” said the Colonel, rubbing his temples.
“Those civilian security people are about fucking useless. We should’ve picked
her up the same day we rounded up the other scientists. What I should’ve done
was sent you. I knew this would bite us on the ass. If she talks and somebody
with half a brain puts two and two together, that’s the end of us.”

“Who could’ve taken her?” asked Alex.

“It’s not Ryan’s team. They never left New Orleans.
Besides, the deputy director would’ve told us. It’s obviously not us, so who
else would be looking for her?” asked the Colonel.

“You think Joshua or Derek took her, sir?”

“At this point, I’m hoping it was them. They want to
kill everyone who had any involvement in the Didache project. That includes you
and me. We have the other three scientists secured here, so they may have
simply chosen the easiest target as their first. No telling what’s going
through their sick minds.”

“Does this change our plan?”

“Not the end result, but we do need to speed things up,”
said the Colonel. “I want you to head to New Orleans tomorrow alone. I’ll let
you know how to bring Elliot out in the open for the feds. If you can give me
another head shot like Arrington’s, we’ll have this mess cleaned up in a few
weeks instead of months. Go get your gear ready. I have to make a few phone
calls.”

“Will do, sir.”

 

*****

 

As the sun was peeking over the horizon, Kristina walked
downstairs in search of a cup of coffee. She was wafted by an aroma of French
vanilla when she reached the landing. She was also startled by Dallas who was
moving quickly through the hallway.

“Morning, Doc,” greeted Dallas. “I hope I didn’t wake
you?”

“No, I’m usually an early riser, but I’ll give you a
million dollars for that cup of coffee.”

“Here you go,” said Dallas, laughing as he handed her
his cup. “Haven’t taken a sip, and it’s on Uncle Sam. Ryan brought it over a
few minutes ago.”

“Is he here already?”

“Yeah, he’s on the back porch with Michelle and Tom. I’m
going to be running around the house for a little bit installing your security
system. Go ahead and take this,” said Dallas, handing her a small device
resembling a remote keyless entry for a car. “There’s only one button. When you
press it, an alert will be sent to our phones, along with GPS locating data.
We’ll test it before I leave.”

“That’s very James Bond,” said Kristina, walking toward
the back porch. “Good morning,” she said to the agents sitting outside on the
deck.

“Go back inside,” said Ryan, standing quickly and
startling her.

“Sorry,” she said, closing the door.

Michelle pressed her lips together and started shaking
her head as Ryan returned to his seat. “That was a little harsh.”

“What was?” asked Ryan, oblivious.

“She’s had a rough couple of days because of you,”
explained Michelle.

“Because of me?” said Ryan, looking puzzled.

“Yeah, because of you,” she repeated. “Let me break it
down for you. You, a stranger with a badge, show up while she’s having a nice
visit with a friend in a bookstore. You tell her four of her former patients
have turned into raping killers. Two goons try to kidnap her and put her friend
in the hospital. You then tell her she can’t go home or contact anyone and drag
her to New Orleans without even a toothbrush or a change of underwear. You ask
her to voluntarily turn her life upside down and she does. After all that, she
comes outside with a smile and a good morning to us. And what do you do? Bark
at her like a child to go back inside while the adults talk.”

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