The Mendel Paradox (Harvey Bennett Thrillers Book 9) Page 12

  31

  Ben

  “Okay,” Eliza said, shakily at first. “Okay. It was five, maybe six years ago. My husband was still alive. I was working for EKG and finishing school as well. I had published a few papers, and a few of them were getting popular in the typical circulation.”

  “Typical?” Ben asked. “What do you consider typical?”

  “The usual — philanthropy organizations, universities, peer reviews,” she said. “I wasn’t writing anything groundbreaking — at least I didn’t think I was at the time. But I was speaking at a university one evening when I got canceled. Literally escorted off the stage and told there was an emergency, and they needed to close it down.”

  “I’m guessing there was no emergency?” Ben asked.

  “Not that I was ever aware of,” Eliza said. “If so, they kept it hush-hush.”

  “You mentioned that before,” Ben said. “You said your talk had been canceled midstream, and that you thought it was EKG who had done it. What was the talk about?”

  “Honestly? I don’t even remember,” Eliza said. “It would have been something based on my paper that I had been working on at the time, something about electronic vibrations and relational spinal activity in chimpanzees.”

  Ben looked at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Sounds like it was pretty close to the research you showed me a few days ago,” Ben said. That stuff they were doing on that table, to that ape. Your research might have actually helped them —“

  She held up a hand. "I'm going to stop you right there, Ben" Her voice was no longer shaky. It had risen in pitch and timbre and returned to the confident tone he was used to. She took a step toward Ben. "I quit shortly after that. I knew that my research was useful to them, to what they were doing there. That's why we are here, Ben.”

  “What was it you remembered?” Ben asked. “We’ve been through all of this before; it was one of the first things you said when we met two days ago. So what changed? When you saw that man in there, and the first one, by the tree. What is it about these deaths that has you looking off into the distance, reminiscing?”

  There was still poison in her eyes, but her voice softened a bit. “Well,” she said. “It was... I guess it was the way they did it. They had a university security officer escort me off campus, but he handed me over to two other men. That night. They were, I’m not sure what to call them — professional security?”

  “Rent-a-cops?” Ben asked.

  "No," Eliza said, shaking her head. "Definitely more than that. They didn't look like police officers, but they also weren't just civilians. They told me they were going to give me a ride back to the hotel where I was staying."

  “Did they?” Ben asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, eventually. But they took forever about it. They drove slow, meandered around town a bit. I thought they were lost, trying to figure out where my hotel was. I chalked it up to their being from out of town as well, like me.”

  Ben squeezed his eyes shut and thought about it. “Could be, they were trying to bide time for whatever reason. If there was no emergency at the university — no real reason to pull you off the stage — then those men could have been from EKG and were trying to prevent you from walking into your hotel room while more of their friends bugged the room.”

  “I thought of that. I even called my husband and told him about it afterward, and that was his first thought as well. But they weren’t from EKG,” she said.

  “How do you know?” Ben asked. “Are you sure?”

  "Well, I remember looking for their company name. Logos, or decals, or something that would tell me anything about who these men were. They weren't mean or hostile or anything, quite the contrary; one of them was actually nice. He offered to stop for coffee if I recall. But I was still shaken up from what had happened at the university and why I had been shuffled into a car with these two men. I was still under the impression that there was some emergency; a bomb threat or something like that, and they were just trying to keep me safe."

  “Makes sense,” Ben said.

  “But I never did see any logos, at least I didn’t think I did at the time. But now...”

  Ben knew where she was going with this. He understood now why she had been hesitant after seeing the third massacred man in the other room of the cave. “Did you recognize that man in there?” Ben asked.

  She shook her head. “No,” she said. “But I did see a piece of his clothing. Just for a second, and it didn’t hit me until right now.”

  “The Grayson logo,” Ben said, pulling out the ID card he had pulled off of the first dead man. “Like this one?”

  “Yes. That’s it. It’s on a piece of his shirt. It was ripped off of him and left on the floor.”

  "And it's the same one you saw on these two men who escorted you off-campus?" Ben asked.

  “It wasn’t on their clothes. I didn’t even see it until I got out of the car, and I didn’t think that it would be associated with them because of where it was. It was above the rear bumper, like where you would put the name and logo of the car dealership.”

  Ben knew exactly what she was talking about. Tiny placards that were affixed to the area above and around the license plates on some vehicles as a marketing tool. He understood now why it would not have registered in her mind before.

  “I swear it was the exact same thing. It said, ‘Grayson,’ in the same font and style. Monochrome, looking just like it belonged there on the car. It hit me when I saw that piece of the shirt. I knew immediately where I had seen it before.”

  “Well,” Clive said, “I guess that settles it.”

  They both looked down at the younger man, still crouched and huddled on the floor of the cave.

  “This is EKG. It has to be. They hired people then, and they hired them again to clean up their mess now. Whatever this is, they don’t want it getting out. They tried to scare you before, to silence you and your husband.”

  Eliza had calmed down now, but he still saw the boiling fear in her eyes, quickly turning to anger. He didn’t know what they were truly up against out here, but he knew for a fact that it was bigger than they’d imagined.

  It — something related to EKG — had killed three men so far.

  And we’re walking right toward it, Ben thought.

  32

  Ben

  Ben awoke to the sound of a squirrel chittering near his head. He moved his hand a quarter of a millimeter, which sent the squirrel fleeing to safety elsewhere. He had slept fitfully, unable to erase the visions of the two dead Grayson men and the one Clive had seen.

  In Ben's dreams, his mind had created a vision of the second dead person, the one Ben had not seen with his own eyes. He, like the other two, had had their hearts ripped from their chest and had died a bloody, terrifying death.

  What was worse, his subconscious had allowed him to interact with each of the dead men. They had been alive in his dream, wide-eyed and shaking with fear, while their chests had been ripped open, then bloodied and desecrated.

  Unfortunately, Ben recalled the dream vividly. He remembered interacting with each of the men, asking them questions about their death, even in his subconscious trying to piece together the puzzle.

  Why had they been killed? Why had they been killed in such a way? What were they trying to tell him?

  Each of the men had answered, and each answer was the same.

  It came for us in the night.

  And yet, Ben had made it through this night, just as he’d made it through the previous one. The past night he had spent in a cave, semi-protected from the elements and whatever might attack them, but the night before last he had spent out in the open, on EKG property, vulnerable and defenseless.

  So, then, why had “it” come in the night for these men and not for him? If he believed what his subconscious was trying to tell him, the creature only attacked when it was dark. Why? Was this just a trick his mind was playing on him? Or was there something more to it?

  He wondered if ther
e might be anything lodged deep within his brain that would give him a clue. He thought he’d explored the expanses of his mind, trying to figure out any pieces of the puzzle he might have forgotten without realizing it, but he could find none. He rolled onto his side, noticing that the tiny ground squirrel was still poking its head into the cave, peeking at Ben and the new visitors. Ben figured this was the squirrel’s home, and that he — the human — was the invader.

  “Sorry, little guy,” he muttered. He had always had an affinity for nature and its inhabitants. Ever since he had started down the path of becoming a park ranger many years ago, he had realized that he often felt more at home with the animal kingdom than his own.

  Ben rolled over again, this time ending up on his left side. He must have slept on this one, as it was growing sore. It was still dark in the cave, even though he could see a few orange embers from the tiny fire that had refused to go down without a fight. It was still smoking, and he knew there would be hot coals underneath the ash they could use to start up the fire this morning.

  It was chilly as well, the cold from the outside somehow seeping into their layers overnight. He longed for some of Clive's bacon, wondering how long they had before it all went bad. On camping trips with Julie, they were able to keep cold food in their packs for up to a week sometimes, depending on the temperature during the day.

  He pressed his fingers through his hair, hoping it didn’t look completely disheveled. He felt as though he’d slept on a concrete slab. The rock he had slept on was only marginally better, and he knew he would be aching for a bit after they got going this morning.

  He sat up, pulling the sleeping bag down to his waist, and got a better look around.

  He reached for his flashlight and turned it on, hoping the light wouldn’t wake the other two members of his team. He saw the lump to his left which represented Eliza in her sleeping bag, but when he slung it around to where Clive had been, he found…

  Nothing.

  “He’s gone,” Eliza said.

  He swung the flashlight around quickly, and she winced when it hit her eyes. “Sorry,” he said, moving the light to a spot just above her head. “What do you mean, he’s gone?”

  “I mean he’s not here. He left. He took off sometime last night or early this morning.”

  Ben was stunned. "Are — are you sure? How do you know? Didn't he say anything to you? You didn't try to stop him?"

  "He didn't say anything, Ben. I didn't see him leave, nor did I hear him. I woke up about fifteen minutes ago and saw that he was gone. I thought it would be better for you to sleep rather than wake you up and startle you."

  “But — but we could be looking for him,” Ben said, growing frantic. “We could be out there right now, trying to find him. Surely he didn’t just get up on his own to try and…”

  The truth was, Ben had no idea what the younger man would be trying to do. He had even said as much last night, telling them there was no way he was going back out there.

  Ben stood up now, stretching and rubbing his eyes. He had not slept well, and he knew the results would manifest themselves physically throughout the day. He longed for another two hours of rest, but he knew he wasn’t going to get it anytime soon.

  “Ben,” Eliza said, “he’s probably just looking for firewood. He did that yesterday, remember? He went out to find —“

  “And he found a dead body, Eliza,” Ben said. “He found something absolutely horrifying, and you saw what had happened to him. He wasn’t himself yesterday, and I know he hasn’t all of a sudden snapped out of it.”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

  Ben looked at her sidelong, wondering if she was still hiding something from him. He didn’t believe she was, but he also didn’t know her very well. The truth was, he was unsure of just about everything at the moment. He stepped to the front of the cave, looking outward at the forest to the north. A thin layer of frost had covered everything, giving the woods a sparkling gleam that he had to admit made the scene even more beautiful.

  He turned back to Eliza. “We have to go after him,” he said. “I’m not asking permission. I’m telling you. We need to —“

  “Ben,” Eliza said. “Calm down. Please. Clive may be spooked, but he is not insane. He just went out to pee or to look for firewood.”

  “He would have said something,” Ben said. “Or he would have been back by now if it was a quick bathroom trip.”

  She shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you, Ben. But you seem to me to be a smart man. We can't afford to have one of us go look for him. One of us has to stay here to watch our stuff and our weapons. If one of us goes out there, then we're split up. I don't think that's what you want, either."

  Ben had to hand it to her. That was precisely the dilemma he was facing right now: how to look for the youngest member of their party without splitting up their team.

  33

  Dietrich

  Dietrich stepped out of his tent, yawned, and stretched his arms out wide. He had the cell phone in his left hand and a small device that would activate a satellite uplink with the phone in his right. He was amazed at the size of the thing; when he had first started down this career path many years ago, these things had been about ten times this size.

  There was a slight sacrifice in quality going with a much smaller footprint. Still, it was necessary — with the advent of modern cellular technology, he didn't actually need to connect with a satellite directly. Instead, he just needed to connect to one of the myriad cell towers in the distance back in the city of Grindelwald.

  He walked a few paces away from the tent and turned around. The three tents had been set up in a semicircle around their fire. It was still smoking, as they’d decided to keep it burning through the night, which he thought was imprudent and unnecessary. Now, the fire could hardly be called a fire; it was barely a flicker of coals. Mr. Ziegler and Lars had decided it would be best to keep it small, and he hadn’t argued.

  Dietrich turned back around and walked toward a small outcropping which he knew hid a small opening just beyond it. This was where he would make the call.

  There was nothing special about the cell phone, but he needed to get out of earshot from the others, and he needed to get to a place open enough that would allow him to connect with a cell tower back down the mountain. He plugged the device into the phone through its charging port, then opened the specialized app that doubled as a simple GPS location unit, urging him in the right direction until the signal was strong enough for the phone's screen to show a solid green light. He marched until he found a decent spot at the far edge of the clearing, with a heading of north-northeast. He set the phone and the device down on the ground and crouched to one knee to make the call.

  He had learned the hard way that holding the phone and the device up to his ear caused enough interference that most of the calls would be dropped. So now he used a small Bluetooth headset that simply connected with the phone once a strong enough signal was present. He placed the Bluetooth device over his ear and adjusted the microphone, then double-tapped the side of it to initiate the call.

  It only took one ring to answer.

  “Line?”

  “Secure,” he said. The man on the other end of the phone was just barely competent enough to know that a secure line was necessary, though he knew they had no idea how to achieve it or what underlying technology made it all happen. He was old-school, from a different time.

  Dietrich, on the other hand, was a trained professional through and through, and like a true professional, he had spent ample time learning the tools and tricks of the trade.

  He not only knew how this satellite relay worked, he knew the devices would have checked for the most secure transmission possible, opting to relay from a single cell tower rather than spread the message around an array. He knew the device also emitted a reverse scrambler frequency that would prevent anyone from eavesdropping on this call, even if they were somehow able to hack into it.

&n
bsp; And, most important of all, he knew how to have a conversation over a secure line: you didn’t just start talking as if you were face-to-face inside of a secure room. You had to maneuver the conversation using semi-coded words that gave the opposite party an idea of what you are talking about without giving out exact details.

  This is the approach he opted for on this call. “We are about three klicks north of their position. They are higher up the ridge, holed up inside a cave. We believe they will be on the move within the hour, but we are watching to be sure.”

  “We discussed this already,” the voice on the other line said. “You were to neutralize the targets, and ensure —“

  "I understand the mission parameters, and they will be followed to the letter. I can assure you of that, though I cannot inform you of the exact time and location the neutralization will occur." He hoped his annoyance was heard on the other end, as he did not like being scolded for doing his job.

  “I understand, I was just trying to make sure that the —“

  "The job will get done; I give you my word. These things are delicate situations, and it is not just a hostile party we are up against."

  “Yes, you mean the…”

  Dietrich shook his head. “No,” he said. “While that is still a variable, it is not one I am concerned with. We planned for that — that is why we’ve brought the hunter on. I’m talking about the party I am with now. There is no cohesion as a unit. I know that was never the intent, but it makes any movement challenging, and when there are mission parameters that are not shared amongst the —“

  Now the man on the other end cut him off. “The job is difficult. But it must be done.”

  The man sighed, not caring if it was heard on the other side of the call. “Yes, I understand. As I said, it will be done.”

  There was a pause, and then, “Very well. Make a call when it is done. I want this all wrapped up by the end of the week.”