A.D.A.M. Page 10

  “I took the temperature of the sample water at 10:03 a.m., and it registered as eighty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. That’s nineteen degrees warmer than the average temperature of Mono Lake during the winter months. I can only hypothesize as to why, and this finding needs further investigation.”

  She strode to the cabinet carrying the thermometer and retrieved several small cotton balls and a bottle of alcohol. She sterilized the thermometer.

  With the sterilized thermometer in her hand, she moved across the room and tested the water temperature in the tank labeled “The Gulf of Mexico.” She wrote down the temperature in her journal - “Seventy-four degrees G.O.M.”

  Dr. Bradford followed the same protocol by sterilizing the thermometer and tested the other two tanks and wrote down the results - “Seventy-four degrees GI” and “Seventy-four degrees LP.”

  Something is very odd about this. Dr. Bradford returned to the central lab table and prepared three Petri dishes, three glass slides, and three eyedroppers for her next phase in the research protocol. One at a time, she extracted water samples from the three tanks and took extreme caution not to cross contaminate the samples as she placed drops into the Petri dishes and covered them. She labeled each sample accordingly using a Sharpie and dated them.

  Once by the microscope, she placed one drop of water from a sample from Lake Pontchartrain onto a glass slide. She positioned the slide beneath the lens of the microscope, placed her eyes against the eyecups, and adjusted the knob until the view focused. Her eyes watered, and she carefully used her lab coat sleeve to wipe the tears away. She repeated the action with the other two samples and refrained from testing the sample from Mono Lake. Each time she recorded her findings into her journal notebook before she examined the others.

  Not finding the microbe each time in the sample lake water, she scratched her scalp. She removed the small key from her lab pocket, unlocked the Mono Lake sample, and extracted an eye dropper full of the water. The white-doughy blob morphed into the eyedropper and reverted to its state once removed. I’ve never seen anything like this.

  After Dr. Bradford dripped the Mono Lake sample onto the slide, she peered through the microscope and focused it homing in onto the microbe. “There you are, but what are you?”

  She took a deep breath, retrieved a scalpel, approached the tank, and nicked a sample from the blob to obtain an exceedingly small specimen barely visible to the naked eye. “I’m sorry, I had to do this. I have to find out what you are.” She scraped the sample onto a clean slide; the blob morphed as transparent as the glass. “This is by far the most interesting research I’ve ever conducted.”

  Her eyes darted toward the wall clock as she strode to her desk, retrieved a pencil and her journal, and then returned to the lab table. She quickly jotted in her journal.

  “11:02 AM - After placing a small piece of the specimen onto the slide, it turned opaque. Whatever this is can evolve and transform itself. Only something alive could do that. More research must be conducted to confirm.”

  She set the pencil next to the slide, and the specimen on the slide morphed into a one-half inch pencil. “Amazing.” She glanced at several objects in the lab, retrieved a paper clip, and placed it next to the blob on the outside of the glass enclosure. Gradually the blob morphed into the shape of a paperclip. She pulled it away, and the blob returned to its original state. She gathered a bobby pin, a quarter, and her lipstick from her purse. One at a time she placed each item against the tank, and each time the blob morphed into that object.

  The black stealth helicopter landed at the Belle Chase Airforce Base on the outskirts of New Orleans, Louisiana. Agents Turner and Morrison exited the helo and sprinted into a hanger where Lieutenant Commander Anderson waited.

  “Welcome home agents. We don’t have much time to prep you on the details of your next assignment.” His eyes darted toward the clock on the wall.

  Agent Turner stepped forward. “Commander, what are our orders?”

  “In due time Agent Turner. For now, be advised your top priority is maintaining a constant watch on Jessica Parker.”

  “Do you think she is a target?” Agent Morrison took a deep breath.

  “Not a target. Jessica knows the details of Dr. Bradford’s research, and we hear chatter she’s going to divulge it publicly. We can’t allow that to happen.”

  “At what cost, Commander?” Agent Turner’s brow furrowed.

  “Let’s leave it at this; she’s expendable. However, our informant believes she has in her possession one remaining sample. We must find out the truth behind this and destroy it if it proves to be true. That is your assignment. Find the last remaining sample and destroy it.”

  Agent Morrison scratched his chin. “How certain is the government she has another sample?”

  “Let’s say, our sleeper agent caught her in the act of retrieving a sample from Dr. Bradford’s lab. It was well hidden. If there was one, there are likely two, if not more. All samples must be found and destroyed. Are your orders clear agents?”

  “Understood.” Agent Morrison glanced at Agent Turner. “Let’s roll.”

  Rebecca waited outside Lieutenant Commander Anderson’s office. She glanced at her watch. Where is he? She rose and strode to the reception desk and addressed Private Chastain. “Excuse me, Private; how much longer do you expect the Commander to be?”

  “Ms. Newcombe, he is in a meeting across the base. However, I believe he will be here in about five minutes.”

  “Thank you; I’m just on a tight schedule.”

  “It’s your lucky day. Here’s the Commander now.” Private Chastain rose and saluted the Commander. “Sir, Ms. Newcombe is here from KWNC.”

  “Nice to see you again, Rebecca. How may I be of service?”

  “Is there a place we can talk in private?”

  “On the record or off the record?”

  “It doesn’t matter as long as we can talk. It’s important and could be a matter of life or death.”

  “Private, hold all my calls until further notice. Rebecca, this way. We can chat in my office.”

  The black government SUV driven by Agent Morrison pulled up and parked across the street from Dr. Bradford’s home as the Hummer pulled away. Agent Morrison turned off the engine and adjusted the position of his seat as far back as he could to provide him leg room. “You may as well get comfortable; we’re here for the long haul.”

  “I hate stake-outs. They’re a waste of time.”

  “Until we determine if Jessica has another sample, we’re babysitters again.”

  “You know how I feel about that. At least I have my computer to keep me occupied. You take the first watch.”

  “I don’t suspect trouble, do you?”

  “How much trouble can one nerd cause? She seems harmless; smart-mouthed, but harmless to say the least.”

  “I say I have to agree with you. I feel sorry for Jessica.”

  “How so?”

  “To be so young and that brilliant only to be caught up in all of this. Doesn’t it bother you at all?”

  “Not in the least. As you always put it, I’m just following orders.”

  He drew in a deep breath and sighed. “So far, not much activity here for her to be on such a high watch list.”

  “Any idea what we’re waiting for?”

  “Whoever is trying to kill Dr. Bradford doesn’t know she won’t be home. That’s one reason the General sent us back, and we must determine if Jessica has any samples and apprehend them if she does.”

  “Great, so we’re supposed to sit here and watch to see who comes and goes.”

  “Those are our orders.”

  Rebecca’s red SUV passed in front of the agents, slowed, and pulled into Dr. Bradford’s driveway parking next to Jessica’s compact car.

  “We have movement.” Agent Morrison stiffened in his sitting position.

  Rebecca held a large pizza box as she exited the vehicle.

  A scowl crossed Agent Turner’s forehea
d. “Now that seems out of character. What do you suppose she is doing in there?”

  Rebecca strode to the front door and knocked on it with a specific rhythm – two quick taps and three knocks.

  The door opened, Jessica stepped out and hugged Rebecca.

  Agent Turner’s eyes widened. “I thought you said they didn’t know each other that well. What do you suppose she’s doing?”

  “Probably trying to get information for her next story. If you’re suggesting she wants Dr. Bradford dead, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Just record the information and inform the General.”

  “You don’t have to tell me how to do my job. I’m competent.”

  “We need to get ears on the inside.”

  The Hamburger Joint, a dive bar with concrete floors and considered one of the city’s favorite places for lunch, quickly filled. Patrick sat at the bar, eating his juicy burger, while Spike sat next to him sipping a draft beer. Ryan approached the two men. “You gentleman want another round?”

  “I’m good.” Spike’s eyes darted toward Ryan as he sipped his beer, and then he winked.

  Patrick wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Just the check. I’ve got to get back to the station; I’m following up on a lead on the waiter who killed those scientists with arsenic.” Patrick took his last bite, and then glanced at Spike. “You look familiar.” He reached over to shake hands. “I’m Patrick Algiers from KWNC.”

  Spike downed his drink and slammed the mug onto the bar. “Do the authorities have any leads on that waiter?”

  Ryan wiped the counter, picked up the glass, and continued to eavesdrop.

  “Not at this time. From what I’ve been able to find out, he snuck into the event in a waiter’s uniform and blended in with the rest of the staff. No one remembers seeing his face other him seeming to blend in with the rest.”

  Spike held up his hand. “One more, and one for my new friend Patrick and make it a special one.”

  “On its way.”

  “No, thank you. I have several more places to investigate, and I’m following up on a lead on that waiter.”

  Ryan poured a draft beer and dropped three drops of clear liquid into the glass before he served it to Patrick. “Here’s to you finding the waiter and getting that bum off the streets.”

  Spike rubbed his chin. “How did you get a lead? Do the police think he did it alone?”

  “They aren’t saying much. I’m not really in the know. I’m following up on a witness who was at the conference the day the scientists were killed. She thought she recognized a waiter from a local café. She described the guy as about five feet eleven inches with greasy black hair. The police have a sketch artist on it now.”

  “That does sound promising, but look at my buddy Ryan, you just described him and probably hundreds of others.”

  “I know, that’s the problem with eyewitnesses. For some of them, everyone they know starts to look like the bad guy. By the way, thanks for the beer. You didn’t need to do that.”

  “You look like you could use one.”

  Jessica paced across Dr. Bradford’s living room floor as Rebecca sat on the couch. On the coffee table, the cold pizza remained mostly untouched.

  Rebecca glanced at Jessica. “My womanly instinct tells me she’s in trouble, and my journalistic instinct tells me there is another story here.”

  “My instinct tells me to get the hell away from it all before I end up dead like the others. Rebecca, I’m scared. What are we going to do?”

  “For now, finish eating.”

  “I don’t know how you can eat at a time like this.”

  Rebecca picked up a slice of pizza and took a long look at it before she tossed it back into the box. “You’re right. I can’t eat either.”

  Jessica hyperventilated but quickly turned to her mantra to calm herself. “Auh ommm… Auh… ommm. Auh… ommm. What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to be careful and strategically figure out our next move.”

  “Do you have any idea what that entails?” Jessica nervously bit her fingernails.

  “Not really, but from the information Commander Anderson shared, I might have an idea of where the FBI took her.”

  “How do you know you can trust him?”

  “He served with my dad in the Air Force. Suffice it to say; he owes him one.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Nothing really, but he sure turned red-faced when I asked about Fort Huachuca.”

  “Fort Chihuahua! Where’s that?”

  “Oh, Jess. Sometimes I don’t know about you. You must have gotten your smarts from your dad and not from mom.”

  “Now wait a minute. My dad was an astronomer. He worked for NASA. He was brilliant. Who was Dr. B’s dad?”

  “The only thing I remember was he worked with mom in the CIA.”

  “Do you remember anything about our mom?”

  “Not much. After she split from my dad, I never saw her much. Then, when she and your dad died in that horrible airplane crash when you were four months old, my memories faded of her. I never got to see you because the government stationed my dad overseas and, that family fostered you. As for Sandra, I didn’t know she even existed, or she was our sister until she tracked us both down.”

  “Thank God she did. Now it’s our turn to save her.”

  Dr. Bradford stood in front of the tank where the new life form blob floated in the water. She noticed the water glowed neon yellow for just a second. “What are you?”

  She sat down behind her desk and retrieved her journal to write. When she opened it, the small wallet size picture of her infant son landed on her desk. A sadness prevailed over her face. She gently kissed the photograph as General Anbar, Major Dwyer, and Giles interrupted her private moment with their usual grand entrance.

  Dr. Bradford glanced at General Anbar, pursed her lips, and placed the picture back in her journal.

  “Missing someone?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Everything you do is my business.” General Anbar motioned for Major Dwyer to retrieve the photograph.

  The Major approached Dr. Bradford and took it out of her hand.

  “General, are you seriously going to confiscate a picture of my deceased son?”

  The Major handed the photograph to the General.

  “It’s a matter of national security.”

  “This is completely out of line. How is my deceased son a matter of national security?”

  “Update. How is the research progressing?”

  “Compromised, I suspect. How do you expect me to work under these circumstances?”

  “I don’t, but President Corbin does.” General Anbar turned to leave.

  “Tell the goddamn President I don’t work under these conditions. Also, I have a feeling that if I don’t work, you will be held accountable by your President.” Dr. Bradford, holding out her hand, stared at the General as if she had ice running through her veins. “The picture, General. Now!”

  Major Dwyer stepped forward. “Dr. Bradford, I’m here to escort you to your quarters. It’s time for your lunch break. Please come this way.”

  “I’m not hungry. I’m not military, and I don’t eat on command. I eat when I’m hungry.” She glowered toward the General. “Now, give me my son’s picture and leave.”

  General Anbar tossed the photograph next to the water tank and left with the others.

  Dr. Bradford glanced over to the photograph by the tank. The white blob resembled a six-week-old fetus as if it floated in amniotic fluid in a mother’s womb. She gasped and cautiously approached the tank. She bent to eye level for a better view as she saw the tiny heartbeat and what looked to be the beginnings of a human baby.

  “Either you are real, or the drugs they gave me last night haven’t worn off.”

  Dr. Bradford retrieved a roll of scotch tape from her desk and then taped the photograph of her son to the tank. She watched the blob develop into a thirty-two-week-old fetu
s. “Amazing. Everything is there. If you aren’t human, you certainly look human.”

  She touched the side of the tank half expecting the fetus to morph into her hand and shook her head in amazement when it didn’t. “What are you? Better question, who are you?” She removed the photograph.

  The water in the tank glowed neon yellow and appeared to vibrate as the fetus returned to the blob form.

  “Unbelievable.” Dr. Bradford strode to the desk, sat, and then wrote in her journal.

  “2:42 PM – The specimen transformed into a fetus when a photograph of my infant son was within range. I have no explanation as for how or why this happened. Whatever this specimen is, it is alive and is a new life form with the capability to morph. I will have to run more experiments to determine what this specimen is capable of morphing into and how long it can retain its morphed state.”

  General Anbar, talking on the red phone, sat behind his desk.

  “Yes, President Corbin. She is cooperating.”

  He took a deep breath as he listened.

  “I completely understand. At the first sign of any threat, I’ll personally destroy it.”

  Agent Morrison leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “I’m going to get fifteen minutes of shut-eye.”

  “Fine, I have plenty to keep me busy.” Agent Turner continued to read an article on her laptop. “So far, the only visitor to the Bradford home has been the news reporter. What do you think they are doing inside?”

  “Can’t be much.”

  “Are you sure they are even in there?”

  Agent Morrison opened his eyes. “Are you suggesting they may be on to us and snuck out the back door?”

  “Highly unlikely.”

  “But, a possibility.”

  “Wait. Look who just opened the front door.”

  Jessica bolted from the house straight for her car and retrieved her laptop as Rebecca stood on the porch and watched. Once Jessica entered the house, Rebecca followed and shut the door.