Despite the early hour, once the news had leaked out, the paparazzi swarmed the front entrance of the Vermont Hotel, eager to document the history. Would this be Custer’s last stand? GW Forrest’s notorious business attitude toward his competition was renown throughout the globe. His arrival in the UK surely signalled the impending battle, between Forrest Enterprises and Triplet International, the other global superpower. Whispering speculation made for juicy gossip on either side of the Atlantic.
Would this be another hostile takeover by Forrest Enterprises? Would Newcastle Stem Cell Research Centre, NSCRC, follow the fate of D’Netics? Would the feathers of the phoenix be singed by the breath of the dragon, or would the talons of the phoenix pluck out the dragon’s eyes? Sir Richard was also renowned for his aggressiveness; preferring to lay low among the ashes and wait for the opportune moment of rebirth.
In the face of Forrest Enterprise’s falling share prices, those who thirsted for blood put their odds on America’s Saint George as GW Forrest had been named by the mainstream media. To the veterans it made little difference. Those who had witnessed past conflicts between the two superpowers knew the only time Saint George made a personal appearance like this was to scoop up the bricks of yet another fallen empire. Would the King abdicate his throne and be exiled, or was this another sly move by blueblood domination? Jack Brantley, former reporter for Shreveport Times was determined to find out.
Rumours of Forrest’s European ancestry had sparked Jack’s reporter instincts. He’d followed Forrest’s corporate crusades since he was old enough to understand the meaning of the word traitor. His stash file of information and stories he’d written just kept getting bigger. Sooner or later, Jack would find the missing link to the chain that joined the two bloodlines. He was convinced that Sir Richard Triplet and GW Forrest were one and the same; one was bad as the other.
Dr. Gary Browne’s quiet trade off from D’Netics to Sir Richard’s growing UK Empire had prompted Jack to abandon his nesting grounds; he now stood under different colours. Dr. Donna Rigden’s recent appearance on the scene had further sparked Jack’s interests. First Gary Browne, then Donna Rigden, Gary’s cousin, and now Kevin and Linda Wilson. This puzzle was coming together if he could just find the missing piece. Perhaps when the dust settled it would be found among the ashes, and Jack would at last find out why his birth father’s death had been obscured, cleverly covered by a posh monarchical scarlet carpet.
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After two continuous hours of tedious work, Donna and the genetics team’s progress, at NSCRC had come to a screeching halt. The EHG they’d extracted from Jared’s DNA and Donna’s temporary vector had paired, with a success rate of 83.05%. Donna would have been more confident with the ninety percent she’d been pushing for, but they couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Melissa was slowly slipping away from them. Unless a miracle happened soon, the mixture of Forrest’s psychotropic drug and the perp’s cerbera would seal Melissa’s fate.
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Fingers laced at her nape, Donna leaned forward on her elbows and tucked her chin. She shook her head in dismay and let out a long sigh of exasperation. “That’s it!” she groaned. “I can’t get it any higher.”
Sam stepped closer. Donna turned on the stool and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his body and ignoring the strange perfume on his scrub top as he caressed her hair. She turned her face up and softly smiled. Sam bent his head and kissed her. Richard groaned inwardly, watching them out the corner of his eye.
“Me neither,” Gary added.
“I don’t understand it. Do you see now why I said your HRV-A would never serve as a stable vector? It’s almost as if the EHG is sentient. It looks for the twelfth chromosome. It simply will not transcribe to any other location. The only way to make this work permanently is to bombard the patient’s system and give the EHG nowhere to run. The rate at which this thing mutates is scary. It could easily get out of control in a very short time. Used as a weapon, it would be unmatched.”
“We’re not using it as a weapon,” Richard pushed through his teeth.
“No,” Sam responded. “But, if he could get his hands on it, somebody like Forrest would.”
Richard narrowed his eyes at Sam. “Are you suggesting that we scrap the idea and let Missy die?”
“I’m suggesting that the death of one person to prevent millions might be justified. Medical sacrifices are made every day, Richard.”
Gary snorted and shook his head. “We’ve already had this ethical argument.”
“Yes, we have!” Donna snapped. “And we don’t’ have time to debate the moral pros and cons again. Before, we were just guessing and testing theories. Now, a life is at stake – two - if you count the effects losing Missy will have on John. They’re both my friends, and I’ve lost everything for this. I have to follow it through. Unless John says otherwise, I think we should take the risk. Sam… if we don’t, Missy is going to die. That’s a set fact. Put yourself in John’s shoes. Remember what I told you.”
Sam studied her eyes as he considered her petition. What would I do if it were you instead of Missy? The thought of losing Donna made his stomach roil. Would he turn his back on the ethics to save the life of the woman he loved? Love – that had a strange ring to Sam. Lust and self-gratification he understood, but love was never an emotion he’d considered, at least not until Donna. He held her a little tighter. “Let’s talk to John and Sir Richard,” he sighed.
Donna stood to leave. “John won’t want Missy left alone. Frankly, after what happened before, neither do I. Why don’t you go sit with Missy while Sam and I meet with John and Sir Richard? That way, Richard can continue working with the new stem cell cultures.”
Gary stood. “That sounds reasonable to me.” He followed them to the lift. Gary looked at Donna and furrowed his brow. He leaned closer and sniffed.
“What is it? Are you suggesting that I need a shower?”
“No,” Gary responded and sniffed again. “Are you wearing a different perfume?”
“No. You know I don’t wear anything but Sand and Sable. Maybe it’s mingling with the fragrance of my bath soap or shampoo.”
Sam swallowed hard and focused his attention on his feet. Donna glanced at him out the corner of her eye and sighed. “Could be,” Gary admitted. “It just smells stronger than what you usually wear.”
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Sam tapped on Melissa’s door and stuck his head in. John looked up. “Sir Richard, Donna and I would like to speak to you and John in my office. Gary is going to sit with Missy.”
Sir Richard turned and motioned to John. Donna sat in the chair to Sam’s side. Sir Richard and John sat to her right, in front of Sam’s desk. “Sir Richard,” Sam began. “It’s crunch time. We have to decide what we’re going to do about testing the EHG on Missy. Conventional medicine isn’t going to help her now. We either use it, or we have to let her go. As far as Missy’s rights are concerned, I’ve already kept her on life support longer than I should have.”
“What is your success rate?” Sir Richard asked, turning his attention to Donna.
“Less than I’d prefer – 83.05%. I had hoped for at least ninety. I believe it will work, but I can’t guarantee Missy won’t suffer some form of amnesia. According to her latest MRI, the drugs and beating Missy was subjected to have done irreparable damage to her hippocampus - the part of her brain responsible not only for processing new memories but, it also affects emotions, behaviour and sense of smell.”
“But she won’t be paralyzed, or not be able to speak, or anything like that, will she?” John asked.
Donna softly smiled. “No, John. Missy will wake up whole. She might not even suffer from the amnesia. I just wanted you to be aware that it was a possibility.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Sir Richard asked.
“Despite all our precautions and all the compatibility tests I’ve run, Missy’s system could still reject our new stem cells and we’ll lose her anyway. If we don’t use the procedure…” Donna broke off and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. Missy is the first. No matter what form of treatment we use, she still may die.”
“The decision is yours, John,” Sam added.
John looked at Sir Richard. “I’m not stepping in on this one, John. I’ll abide by whatever decision you make.”
John drew in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and then let it out slowly. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Sam reached in the cabinet behind his desk and grabbed an epidural catheter kit.
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As soon as Sam had threaded the epidural catheter into Melissa’s arachnoid mater - a membrane surrounding the brain and spinal cord - Donna attached the syringe containing the concentrated stem cells they’d cultured and started slowly injecting them through the catheter tube. Sam kept a close eye on Melissa’s vitals while John, Sir Richard, and Gary watched from the other side of the room. “Anything?” John asked, once Donna had injected half the stem cells.
Sam glanced at Donna and shook his head. “Sorry, John – no change yet.”
“We probably won’t see any huge changes for several hours, John,” Donna said. “The CTZ5 has to have time to direct the EHG stem cells to their target. If it works the same on Missy as it did on me, once that happens, you’d better be deciding on what you want to say to her.”
Sam frowned. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t go that far. You didn’t have any broken bones. You know how long it takes bones to heal.”
“Yes, Sam, I do, but I also know what this EHG is capable of doing. If Missy’s system doesn’t reject it, what you’re going to see is nothing short of a medical miracle.”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “And if it doesn’t work, we’re going to watch her die.”
“Do you have to be so blunt? You don’t know that.”
“I’m just being objective and realistic, sweetheart. Under normal conditions….”
“We’re not dealing with normal conditions, Sam,” Gary said, in Donna’s defence.
“There… it’s in,” Donna said and closed the end of the catheter. “As soon as Richard gets some more stem cells ready, we’ll administer the rest intravenously. In the meantime, we wait. How are her vitals, Sam?”
“Still being maintained by the respirator.”
“I don’t think we should move the setting for at least an hour. If all goes well, after that, you should be able to switch her from full to assisted.”
“You honestly think it will take that little time?”
“Sam, for a gunshot wound like mine, I should have been taken to the hospital. It’s nine miles from Florien to Many. By the time we got to the city limits, my bleeding had already stopped. Under normal conditions that shouldn’t have happened, but it did. Ten hours later, by the time we landed in the UK, I didn’t even need a sling, and I certainly didn’t need any pain killers. To my knowledge, I wasn’t given any antibiotics at Barksdale, and you told me yourself, from the looks of my wound, I wouldn’t need any, and you were right. The EHG we used here came from Jared. He was born with the gene, as part of his natural DNA structure. Mine was a freak accident. Jared said what he used on me should have done no more than what a topical antibiotic cream would have. He was just as surprised at the results as anyone.”
“So… exactly what are you saying pet – I mean Donna?” Sir Richard asked.
Donna picked up Melissa’s chart and noted the difference in the I/O of her catheter. She glanced at Sam with worried eyes and turned to face Sir Richard. “I’m saying if what we’ve done works, Missy will be healed within 72 hours – a week at the most.”
“I will have to see it to believe it’s possible for broken bones to knit together in days rather than weeks,” Sam said.
Donna grinned. “Fine – don’t believe me. The results will speak for themselves. In the meantime, can I suggest – without stepping on your male ego toes – that we do some more blood work and see if there’s been any internal changes? I can run the tests myself, as before.”
Sam glanced at his watch. “No. The lab techs will be here in about twenty minutes. One of them can run the tests. That much time is not going to make any difference anyway. Let’s go get some breakfast. I’m starving.”
Donna yawned. “Sounds good to me. John, what are you and Sir Richard having?”
“Nothing for me, Donna,” John spoke up.
Donna narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t tell me what you want, I’ll bring back what I think you need. And unless you like eating healthy, you probably wouldn’t like it. Same goes for you, Sir Richard, so out with it.”
Sir Richard grinned. “OK, you win. I’ll have a fruit scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam, and a cup of tea.”
“Same for me,” John agreed.
“Right. We’ll bring it back in a couple of….”
“…Eat your breakfast in peace,” Sir Richard interrupted. “We’ll last until you get back.”
“Gary… are you coming with us?”
“No, Sam. I’m going to hang around here for a while, but you can bring me back a scrambled egg and bacon sandwich and a cup of coffee.”
“OK, see you in a bit,” Sam said and led Donna out into the corridor.
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Before Jared and Juanita went to the infirmary at the complex, they decided to have breakfast together in Jared’s quarters. It hadn’t taken either of them long to learn how to use VICi’s advanced voice activated technology. Juanita set the table while Jared provided her with a somewhat partially edible breakfast, proving yet again that Jared’s cooking skills left a lot to be desired.
Juanita stared in awe and wondered how Jared managed to make eggs look like small pieces of yellow cotton. When she put a bite in her mouth she found out; they had the same consistency as cotton. “Not bad…” she lied as she forced it down with a sip of coffee. Juanita’s eyes widened. Not knowing that coffee in the UK had a tendency to be stronger than he was used to, Jared had used the same amount of instant coffee he would have used in the States. Juanita picked up a piece of what she guessed was toast. It was dryer than the eggs and a lovely shade of mottled black, covered by a liberal smear of strong marmalade. She picked up a slice of bacon and with a little effort bit off a piece. She smiled sweetly as she chewed what to her was more like a piece of bacon flavoured jerky.
Jared watched her through narrowed eyes, a grin of embarrassment spread across his mouth. “Maybe next time you should cook the breakfast,” he chuckled.
Juanita nodded as she finished chewing and forced it down with another sip of the black poison. “I think that might be a good idea.”
Jared laughed. “Now you know why I have a cook. Shall we listen to the news, while we torture ourselves with this heinous breakfast, or would you rather go to the cafeteria and pick up something?”
Juanita grinned. “Let’s listen to the news. I’ll survive – I think.”
“Wallscreen on,” Jared said. “Display the news.”
VICi; Please select a country and channel.
“UK, BBC,” Jared responded.
Because it was breaking news, Forrest arrival at the Vermont Hotel in Newcastle by gurney was the first thing they saw. Juanita and Jared shared a worried look. “VICi, halt playback,” Jared commanded. “When was this filmed and was it recorded live?”
VICi; Affirmative, the newscast was broadcasted live from the Vermont Hotel, Castle Garth, in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne at half past five this morning.
Jared’s eyes changed to glowing crimson. Anger creased his brow. His voice was a low rumble. “VICi, confirm identity. Is the person in the newscast GW Forrest of Forrest Enterprises?”
VICi; Affirmative.
Jared bent the blade of the butter knife in his hand to a ninety degree angle with his thumb. He growled and studied Juanita’s eyes. “What the fuck is going on? What is that bastard doing in England? He was supposed to stay away from Donna. That was part of my agreement with Forrest. He was supposed to leave Donna and Beth alone,” he said and unlocked his cell phone. “Sir Richard, it’s Jared. Are you aware that GW Forrest checked in to the Vermont Hotel in Newcastle this morning at five thirty?”
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Sir Richard glanced at Gary. “Hang on a second.” He pressed mute and left the room. “OK. I’m back, Jared. I didn’t want Gary to overhear. Repeat what you just said.”
Jared growled low in his throat. “I said… Forrest is in Newcastle at the Vermont Hotel. He got there about five thirty this morning.”
“What? No! Forrest is here? In Newcastle?”
“The fucker reneged on our agreement! I can’t leave now, Sir Richard. Not until he’s back on the other side of the Atlantic. Turn your TV to BBC. Reporters are camped out at the hotel entrance.”
“Jared, stay as long as you want, but we may have to either move you to another location, or risk you bumping into Donna. I may have to move the genetics team to the complex. I can’t risk Forrest doing to Donna what he did to Missy.”
“No shit Sherlock! I’ll run the risk and take her back to Arizona with me first before I let that happen.”
“Just sit tight. Let me do some checking, and I’ll get back to you. In the meantime, keep monitoring things from there. You’d be surprised at how much information VICi can find out about what’s going on around us. Other than Donna, if you stay, it leaves us with a slight dilemma.”
“Yeah, I know. How to get Juanita back to her mother.”
“If it comes to that, we’ll figure something out, Son,” Sir Richard said and ended the call. He tapped on the door and motioned to John.
“I’ll be right back,” John said and followed Sir Richard into the corridor. “What is it, Sir?”
“That was Jared. He’s just seen a BBC newscast. Forrest is apparently in Newcastle. Jared said they were wheeling Forrest into the lobby at the Vermont Hotel on a gurney at half past five this morning.”
John’s eyes turned to dark pools. “That’s all we need. I’d better….”
Sir Richard held up a hand. “You’d better get back in there with Missy. I have other security who can handle this. Looks like I’ll have to postpone our little get-together with Donna for a while. I’ll be back shortly. Don’t say anything about this to Gary. He still doesn’t know Juanita and Jared are at the complex.”
“How long are they staying?”
“Jared is not leaving until Forrest does. I don’t know about Juanita, yet. I gotta run. Tell Donna I’ll eat my scone later.”