| Subject: Chapter 8 |
Author:
Juli
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Date Posted: Wednesday, June 21, 06:07:58pm
In reply to:
Juli
's message, "Anti-Virus" on Wednesday, May 17, 05:25:56pm
Chapter 8
After a leisurely shower, in which they made love again, Michael and Nikita picked up her research and computer from the apartment and headed into the city. Michael pulled the car into an underground parking lot and then led Nikita to the elevators.
On the 30th floor, they got off, and Michael opened the door to an office for her. She stepped inside, clutching her research notebooks to her chest and looked around. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it looked like any other office she’d ever seen. Nikita rolled her eyes at her silliness.
“Michael, Nikita, welcome,” came the gravelly voice that Nikita recognized from the phone. The voice belonged to what looked to be an old hippy with a leather jacket and black bandana around his forehead. His long grey hair was in a ponytail. She realized that she had seen him at Papa Pig’s too.
“This is Walter,” Michael said, introducing them.
“Great to meet you in person, Sugar,” Walter said, pulling Nikita into a hug.
Nikita giggled and glanced at Michael, who just shook his head.
“Ok, that’s enough groping, Walter,” Michael said, tugging Nikita out of his partner’s grasp.
“Hey, give me some credit,” Walter said in mock defense.
“Where is Birkoff?” Michael asked, leading Nikita further into the office.
“In his cave, of course,” Walter answered. “And he’s itching to get into Section One’s system, even if its just for the principle of it.”
“Come on,” Michael said, motioning for her to follow.
As they went through another office door, Nikita drew in a surprised breath. The room was cold and contained computer equipment in every inch. In the middle of a semi-circular desk in the center of the room sat a young man with a buzz cut and small round glasses typing away on one of many keyboards. He looked up when they came in.
“Great,” he said, pushing one keyboard out of the way and taking Nikita’s laptop case from Michael.
“Seymour Birkoff, Nikita Jones,” Michael said, aware of his computer expert’s wince at his given name.
“Just call me Birkoff,” the young man replied without looking up from connecting the laptop to a keyboard and a bunch of other cables.
Michael led Nikita around the desk and pulled up chair next to Birkoff for her.
“Ok, ready to go. You want to log in for me?” Birkoff said to Nikita.
She reached over and typed in her login name and password. Once she had access to the system, Birkoff rubbed his hands together and Nikita sat back. Michael was glancing through her research, written long-hand, in her notebooks.
“Walter, take a look at this,” he said, pointing to a certain page.
The two men leaned their heads together over the notebook as Walter perused her work.
“What do you call this?” Michael said, glancing at her and holding up a page of her recent work.
Nikita squinted in the dim light. “I call it L-virus. It doesn’t really have a name yet. I’ve been working on finding cures for the new ‘designer’ viruses that come out of the middle east for chemical weapons,” she explained.
Walter tugged the notebook away from Michael and glanced at it more closely. His eyes narrowed.
“What is it?” Michael asked quietly.
“Not sure yet, but … Let’s just see what Birkoff digs up,” Walter replied cryptically.
“Birkoff?” Michael asked.
“Tough system,” Birkoff commented, plugging another cable into the laptop. “I need to get some more processors working on it.”
Nikita jumped as a server beside her whirred to life.
“This may take a while,” Birkoff said, his fingers flying over the keys.
“Ok, let us know,” Michael said, motioning for Nikita to follow.
The three others left the cold room and walked back out into the outer office. Walter sat down on a leather couch and crossed his ankle over his knee.
“So what are the others in your group working on, Sugar?” he asked.
Nikita sat in a chair next to him.
“Well, Dr. Hollingsworth is doing genetic recombination. It doesn’t really work very well when coming up with a cure for viruses. I don’t understand why Wolfe would even have him try. And Jon and Emily are engineers – mechanical engineers. I’m not sure what they are working on, but when I’m there, they have all kinds of questions for me about how the virus and the cure react in nature, and that sort of the thing. The questions are really odd,” Nikita told them, her brow furrowed. “The more we all work together, the more confused I get,” she said.
Walter rubbed his chin as he thought. “Mechanical engineers, huh? Now that is something I do know about,” he mumbled.
“Let’s go eat while we wait for Birkoff,” Michael suggested, standing and putting out a hand for Nikita to pull her up.
“Would you like to join us, Walter?” she asked, standing.
“Nah, you two lovebirds go have some time alone,” he replied. “I’ll go tinker with my toys.”
“Ok, see ya,” Nikita said, taking Michael’s hand and following him out.
Once outside, she asked, “His toys?”
Michael cracked a smile. “Walter likes to invent spy stuff. Cameras, gizmos, communications devices, even weapons sometimes. He’s really quite brilliant,” he answered her.
Nikita raised her eyebrows and murmured, “Huh.”
They got into the car and went to get lunch. They spoke more about Nikita’s interactions with the other members of her group. Michael asked for details and pressed her to remember specifics.
As they were leaving the restaurant, Michael’s cell phone rang. He listened for a moment and then flipped the phone shut.
“They’re ready,” he told her, opening the car door.
Nikita noticed an almost imperceptible change in Michael’s attitude since the call had come through. He seemed so focused, less … open. He didn’t speak during the car ride back to the office. Nikita was lost in her own worries about Michael’s sudden change.
Michael didn’t realize that Nikita was worried about him. He had his own worries. During their conversation at lunch, a very frightening thought had occurred to him. He only prayed that he wasn’t right.
Walter and Birkoff looked grim as they entered the computer room. Michael came around to look at the screen with Nikita right behind. The blueprint displayed on the screen confirmed what he had been thinking.
“What is that?” Nikita asked, looking at the monitor.
“Walter, is that what I think it is?” Michael asked.
Walter nodded without looking up.
“Nikita, you said that Dr. Hollingsworth was working on genetic recombination but that it didn’t work with cures. Does it work with creating different viruses?” Michael asked, his voice low and serious.
“Yes, but why would he… What is that thing?” she pointed to the monitor.
“It’s what the Blatt’s have been designing,” Walter explained. “It’s a device to release an airborne toxin into the air supply of a building.”
Nikita looked at the monitor and then Walter and Michael. She opened her mouth to ask another question. Her mouth stayed open as the facts clicked in her mind. She put her hand to her mouth as her eyes widened.
“Did you see what Dr. H. was working on?” she asked Birkoff, motioning to the computer.
He shook his head, “But I can access it, now.” He glanced at Michael who gave a tight nod; his face grim.
His fingers clicked as the screen changed from a schematic to chemical composition notes. Nikita leaned forward and scanned the notations and chemical formulas. She gasped.
“This is L-virus that has been genetically altered to create a nerve toxin in the form of a gas,” she whispered.
“I knew I had a bad feeling about this one,” Walter mumbled under his breath.
“What does this mean, Michael?” Nikita asked, fearing the answer.
“Wolfe is creating a weapon – nerve gas without an antidote that can be easily dispersed. It can be sold easily to terrorists around the world,” Michael explained, his eyes narrow.
“I…” Nikita faltered, then sat down, her mouth hanging open in shock.
The three men were each silently staring at the screen. Michael was the first one to speak.
“See what else you can find, Birkoff,” he ordered. Then he grasped Nikita under her arm and raised her to standing, leading her out of the office.
Once outside, Nikita turned to Michael. “Michael, I swear to you that I didn’t know anything about this,” she protested.
“Shhhh. I know,” he assured her, pulling her into his arms. “You wouldn’t have asked for our help if you knew.”
He softly rubbed her back as she wept quietly against his chest. “The others had to know though,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“Why… me?” Nikita answered between gasps.
Michael took her face in his hands to force her to look into his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Maybe he just wanted the best. He knew that you could be kept in the dark,” he told her.
“What if I’d figured it out?” she whispered.
Michael had thought the same thing. His jaw muscle ticked as he clenched his teeth. He could only imagine how Wolfe would “coerce” Nikita into continued employment.
“Don’t think about it,” he told her.
“What do we do now?” she asked, pushing away from his chest to look at him.
Michael nodded absently. “That’s definitely the question, isn’t it?” he said.
They both looked up as Walter exited the computer room rubbing a weary hand over his face. He looked at them and shook his head.
“Everything we uncover gets worse,” he said grimly.
“Davenport?” Michael asked.
“I don’t think we have any choice, Michael. You know I hate to go to him just as much as you do. But…” Walter said, dropping heavily into a chair.
“I know…” Michael said with a sigh.
“Who is Davenport?” Nikita asked, wiping tears from her cheeks.
Michael looked at Walter who shook his head.
“I ‘aint touchin’ that topic. You’re on your own,” Walter said. “I’m going to get drunk.”
Nikita blinked as Walter hefted himself out of the chair and headed for the door. She turned to Michael.
“Let’s go back to the beach house,” he said, stalling for time.
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