Prototype Read online

  We were two and a half hours into the flight and we still didn’t know who killed Doctor Finway or who Samantha worked for. Roger and I needed to originate a plan of action before we landed. One thing we both agreed upon was that we weren’t telling anyone he was alive. Because of the enormity of the file, we decided to split it up and we each took a section. I studied all of the personnel files and he scrutinized all of the intelligence collected on Spartacus Industries. I was scanning the file of Terence Cummings, a researcher and developer for SI. I expected to see a stereotypical geeky guy like Roger; instead I saw a gorgeous African American man with thick long dreadlocks and a body the size of a lineman in the NFL.

  Terence Cummings was the person who tied Sam to Spartacus Industries. He was the one assigned to modify Roger’s prototype. Samantha Wilkins was listed as a reference and the person he requested to work with him on the project. In his statement he requests Sam because of her background in computer programming and software development. He mentions that she’s been a loyal employee for over ten years. Why would Sam tell me that I needed to destroy the file on the mainframe computer at SI? If she works for Alejandro’s company, why would she want to ruin it? Unless she read the file and was as disturbed as I was about Roger’s prototype being used on innocent people. Suddenly I heard Roger’s voice in my head.

  “She works for both the CIA and Alejandro!” he said.

  I minimized Terence’s file.

  “How would you know?” I asked.

  “Because I found the information she left in her file,” Roger answered.

  I scanned the information and there it was; she started working for the CIA around the same time I did. I read further down and noticed the last entry 2013 Domestic- MindWarp? What was that? I clicked on it, hoping it would open to the information about the operation. No luck, it led me to a restricted page. Now we knew what Roger had to do; he needed to find and crack the security codes for the MindWarp file. It had to be the file that contained the reason why she was acting as a double agent.

  Roger scoured page after page, looking for anything that would give us a hint to Sam’s main objective while I scanned all the information in her file. I couldn’t find anything on her relationship with Marshall or Alejandro and Spartacus Industries, and Roger didn’t have any luck breaching the codes.

  Terence Cummings’ file sat minimized in my eye for a solid couple of hours until I put it together that Terence just may be our way into SI. “Hey, Rog, I forgot to tell you what I found out about Samantha in the personnel files. There’s someone who could be our potential way in to the mainframe computer of SI, Terence Cummings.” I took a breath and continued. “Sam’s been working at Spartacus Industries for fourteen years. And get this, according to the CIA employee document, she has been at the agency for only thirteen years.” Roger just looked at me and shook his head.

  Everything we found out about Sam was contradictory. We couldn’t catch a break, and we needed one fast.

  “This can’t be possible!” Roger gasped.

  “What is it?” When I minimized the file and saw the look on his face, I knew it was bad.

  He glanced over and whispered the file path. I searched through a couple of files until I had it open in my sight.

  He waited a moment while I skimmed through the information.

  “Lauren, this can’t be happening.” Panic invaded his expression.

  I pushed my hand toward him making him stop talking and I read it to myself a second time.

  While the “prototype” or nano technology could be quite useful in everyday circumstances, the objective in shifting its purpose outweighs the value for the ‘average’ citizen. The financial outcome of domestic and foreign governments’ demands will be unprecedented in SI’s history. I kept reading when I came to a paragraph that caused chills down my spine. The ‘prototype’ is the future of all securities and warfare worldwide. The factor of total control and swift complete action is unarguably superior and unprecedented. Governments will have unparalleled authority over their military. This will give levied power to the country that procures the technology first. With the development of future programs, and unforeseen potential in biological applications, governments could use said technology to facilitate population management. Giving said proprietor the ability to effortlessly and anonymously control the spread of infectious diseases, political unrest, civil disobedience and terrorist activity without significant risk to general populous.

  I stopped reading and looked at Roger. My feelings mimicked his as his eyes grew glossy and every ounce of color was gone from his face.

  “Do you know what this means, Roger? There will be nothing to stop governments from wiping out hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people. All they have to do is create code for lethal viruses and upload it into people’s heads. They can easily make it look like a pandemic outbreak. Nothing can stop them from targeting and controlling specific groups. They won’t ever have to deal with germ warfare again … all they’ll have to do is mandate the installation of your technology in every person’s head and within seconds they’ll have the ability to track people, collect data, manipulate and control them, and when they can’t get anything else from that person, they will simply wipe them out.”

  “I had no idea they were going to use my technology for that. Lauren I give you my word, I didn’t consider the capability of virtual germ warfare.”

  “What did you think would happen, Roger? You can’t create a technology like this and expect people to embrace the humanity it unwittingly destroys.”

  “Lauren, I swear.”

  I just stared at him, unable to give him the expression he desperately needed from me. I couldn’t make him feel okay with this. And he knew it.

  A voice suffused the speakers in the plane, uttering something about starting our descent into San Francisco. Great, we didn’t know who killed Doctor Finway, no idea who Sam was loyal to and no concrete plan of action for California. A five-hour flight and we were still at square one. The only thing I knew for sure, I had to stop Roger’s technology from being sold. I had to find a way to destroy it before it destroyed anymore people’s lives.

  We landed in San Francisco at one o’clock, and by one thirty we were off the plane and heading toward the baggage claim. Roger needed to pee, so he hustled over to the first bathroom he saw.

  In all of the hoopla of finding out Roger was alive and Sam was a backstabber, I forgot to call my mom to pick me up. I spotted some phones by the ladies room. Experience told me that most likely Marshall had my cell phone tapped, so I called her from a landline. On a good day she was about thirty minutes away from the airport, so I kept the conversation short. When I hung up and glanced across the airport, I saw Marshall and Sam walking from gate forty-eight. Both carried large black briefcases that hung from their shoulders. I watched them as they scanned the terminal and leisurely walked in the direction of the baggage claim. Suddenly, Marshall broke away from Sam and walked toward the men’s restroom. The same restroom Roger was in. We had a problem … nobody knew Roger was alive.

  I had to think fast. “Call Roger” flew across my lips. The receiver icon lit green and appeared in the corner of my vision. Luckily for him, he answered on the second ring.

  “Marshall’s heading your way!” My voice was harsh and cursory. Then we were disconnected. I could only hope that he had enough time to ditch into a stall or find a place to take cover. Keeping my eyes on Sam, I got lost in the landscape of people. She was scanning the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. I worked my way into the middle of the group, keeping my eyes on Sam the entire time. I wasn’t about to look away. I was relieved when she didn’t notice me; instead she entered the women’s restroom. It was time Roger and I got out of the airport.

  A tiny fuse of panic surfaced when I tried to contact Roger and he didn’t answer. My panic quickly diminished when I remembered that had Roger been dead, it would have flashed across my vision when I tried to conta
ct him. I slipped past the security exit and peered back to see if Roger was there. That’s when I noticed both Sam and Marshall had met back up and were working their way through to the front of the airport.

  Fortunately all I had was a carryon; I walked out of the terminal and found a taxi right away. I scanned the sidewalk and sky-cap areas for Marshall or Sam as I tossed my bag into the cab and hopped in.

  “Hi, where can I take you?” the cabbie inquired.

  “Ahh, do you think you could circle around a couple times, I am waiting for a friend,” I answered.

  “No prob.”

  I contacted Roger again and this time he answered.

  “Hey, Lauren.” He sounded winded.

  “You ok?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I barely made it into a stall when Marshall came in.”

  “Where’re you now?” I asked, not waiting for him to finish his explanation.

  “I’m just goin’ through the security exit,” he replied. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in a yellow taxi driving around the terminal, listen—I saw them not too long ago going through security. You need to forget your bags if you had any checked and meet me outside Boarding Area C. Be careful; make sure you’re not seen and remember you’re dead.” We instantly disconnected.

  “Do you mind pulling over here at this Boarding Area C?” I asked as he swerved sharp to catch a place next to the curb.

  “Thanks,” I answered.

  I sat in the taxi, waiting for Roger. Relief enveloped me when I saw the enormous glass doors open and Roger came bounding toward the taxi. He looked hurried but not stressed.

  “Are you ok?” he asked as he plopped down into the cab.

  “Did you see them?” He shook his head.

  “Excuse me, do you mind circling around and pulling over just past Terminal One?” Roger asked. The driver nodded and pulled from the curb.

  “Why are we here?” I asked.

  “I want to see if Marshall and Samantha are together. If they aren’t together then we’ll need to find out why,” he responded.

  We peered out the back window of the cab and watched every time the glass doors slid open, scanning the mobs of people that hurried out to waiting loved ones. Several swarms of people had exited when I caught an abrupt movement out of the corner of my eye. I instantly recognized my mom’s gold Lexus as she pulled to the curb; my heart fell to my stomach. At the same time another cluster of people spilled from the automatic doors. That’s when Roger noticed Marshall was deliberately centered in the group walking toward the curb. We watched as he searched the waiting taxis.

  “Roger, that’s my mom in the gold Lexus,” I cried, hoping he saw what was about to happen. My heart raced as I worked out what I needed to do.

  I watched as my mother reached across the inside of her car to the passenger’s seat and struggled to pull out a huge white poster board. Suddenly, everything around me moved in slow motion. Marshall was creeping closer to her car, and knowing my mother, she probably had a sign with a clever slogan on it using my name. I couldn’t allow her to hold that sign up. I turned to Roger for help when I saw the cab door was left open and he was gone. I was frozen, as I watched Roger work his way to my mother and her gold Lexus. I connected with him and was able to communicate Marshall’s every move. Everything Roger did was deliberate and focused as he worked to get to my mother. Unexpectedly, someone pushed into my cab and slammed the door shut.

  The figure held up a fist of money to the cabby and told him to drive.

  “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find you, Lauren?” a raspy voice asked, taking off a small-rimed hat. Her fire red hair spilled past her shoulders revealing that it was Samantha. “Come on, Lauren, you had to figure out that I wasn’t going to let this trade go down without me.”

  “Trade? What are you doing in—” She backhanded me across my face. Stinging pain ripped across my cheek.

  I lunged at her, wrapping my hands around her neck. I tightened my grip as pure rage surged throughout my body. Her thoughtless actions unleashed something deep in my core and I was ready to kill her.

  “Like I was about to ask before you decided to make such a big fucking mistake. What are you doing in California?” I demanded, growling as the blood from my cut dribbled down and landed onto her colorless face.

  I watched her as she gasped for air, knowing in a matter of seconds she would be unconscious and lifeless.

  “Lauren! Stop! Don’t do it! You need to let go,” I heard Roger bellow. He was still in my head.

  “I can’t, Rog, not until she answers me,” I slurred, seething with every word.

  “Lauren, you have to listen to me, we need her.” He paused and then continued; I could hear desperation in his voice. “Lauren—Marshall. Marshall’s got your mother.” It was those words that pulled me back just in time to discover Sam was unconscious.

  “And it looks like you’re heading on East Grand toward the waterfront.” Roger’s voice boomed in my head.

  “Just don’t lose sight of my mom,” I barked.

  I remembered the only things down at the waterfront were warehouses and industrial businesses. Visions of different scenarios crept into my head. If the taxi driver was working for Marshall, I would be taken to an abandoned warehouse and roughed up just enough to keep me in line. If the taxi driver was working for Alejandro, my body will be found in about a week floating face down in the bay or in pieces in a garbage heap at the South San Francisco Dump.

  Samantha moaned, her naturally raspy voice was reduced to a harsh croak as she spoke. “You know Marshall will find out about this and you’ll be sorry,” she threatened. “I know people, people that are not as forgiving as I am,” she snarled as she struggled.

  “I know the same people, Sam.” I looked through her and watched as her eyes narrowed.

  “What are you saying, Lauren?” She stopped struggling.

  “I know who you work for.” All of the people you work for. I’ll let you go once you remember where you told the driver to take us.” I was done with her and this situation.

  A burning pressure in my rib cage interrupted my thoughts. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe and my body was being hammered against the taxi door. Samantha was pinning me against the side and kicking me with the sharp pointy ends of her stilettos. She was twisted in such a way that I couldn’t get to her to stop. Every time I tried to catch her by one of her ankles the other stiletto would come in and stab my body. All I could do was holler with every strike. Dark red blood began to seep from my side. The gashes on my hands stung with acidic pain.

  “I didn’t tell him to take us anywhere … I just told him to drive,” she yelled, kicking me. I had to stop her; I caught her legs, pinning her between me and the back seat. Excruciating pain shot through my ribs.

  “Sam, I’ll kill you before I’ll let you out of this taxi. I need answers. You give me the right ones, you live. Do you understand?” I demanded. She nodded.

  “I want to see what other files you have in your head.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Lauren.”

  “You’re going to let me; you have no choice … understand?”

  “No, you don’t understand the power Marshall has over me.”

  “Yes, I do, but that can’t matter now.”

  “No, Lauren—Listen, Marshall has installed an app on my prototype that records every keystroke, every file accessed and every download from my head. He told me he’d kill me if he found out that anyone accessed any information in my head.”

  I ripped off her stilettos and threw them on the other side of the cab. That’s when I felt the taxi jolt to a stop. I looked out the window and noticed we were at a warehouse close to the waterfront.

  “Listen to me. I’m going to slide off of you. Don’t fucking move. If you do, I will tie up your legs. You got me?” Sam nodded in agreement.

  I gently pushed up and off her body while excruciating pain radiated up my left side. I bit my lip trying to keep from scr
eaming in agony. I looked down pulled the side of my shirt, dragging my fingers over the shallow puncture holes that dotted my side. Small drops of blood were hidden in the design on my shirt.

  “Hey, ya there?” Roger’s voice startled me. “I got it! It wasn’t Marshall that paid off your driver.”

  I felt my breath escape my lungs before suddenly I could hear my heart beat echo loud in my chest.

  “You ready for this shit? It was able to access Marshall’s prototype and it wasn’t him.”

  “Ok, well Sam won’t let me get into her head, so what do you suggest I do to get the information?” I thought to Roger.

  “Well, that’s the least of your worries; Marshall just found you.”

  The hostility I had pushed down welled in my body again. Samantha looked back and saw Marshall in my mom’s car; fear captured her face. I recognized how they looked at each other and that’s when I knew our driver was working for Alejandro.

  There was a copious pause before the door of the taxi swung open.

  A sinfully gorgeous man slipped in next to me. Arrested by the seamless mixture of his bronze complexion and his five o’clock shadow, I knew he must have been Alejandro. My body paralyzed by his presence, my lungs static as I tried to take a breath. I could only feel my heart rate as it hurriedly thrashed against the thin bones of my chest, leaving me with nothing more than the ability to blink. I was supposed to be afraid of him, my intuition and his energy played right into that shallow emotion. I broke from my thoughts and regained my ability to evaluate the situation in seconds. Be it a blessing or curse, in my line of work, moments like that were rare. Never caught speechless or tangled by the mere appearance of someone, this man had caught me off guard. My god, he looked like he had been plucked from the pages of a GQ magazine.

  The taxi door closed behind him; unmoved and unaffected by the space we were sitting in, he stretched his strong lengthy hand out to me.