The vault was open now that Alex had been in it. But the syringes of antidote weren’t the only things missing. Osborne’s file was gone as well.
Jack hurriedly took a prescription bottle down from the top shelf, and popped off the lid, shaking two white pills into his mouth. He put the top back on the bottle and raced into his bathroom, where he turned on the water in the sink, cupped it with his hand, and brought it to his lips. The water helped the pills slide down.
Jack then left his quarters and re-joined Alex, who was just now helping Simon sit back up as he slowly regained consciousness.
“Get geared up. Annabelle went after Osborne.”
“Yes sir.” Alex left Simon where he sat and made his way to the trunk in the family room. He opened the lid and pulled several weapons from its depths, arming himself well. Jack joined him a moment later, now wearing a long-sleeved shirt that looked a lot like the one he’d had made for Annabelle and a belt and cross-strap with various compartments on them. Jack chose his own weapons, loaded them, and added them to the ones he was already carrying.
Then, as the morphine made it to his blood stream, he turned and left the apartment, Alex right behind him.
“Oh my God.”
Virginia Meredith looked up from where she’d been staring through the lenses of a microscope. Craig stood a few feet away, gazing into one of his own. His expression was one of disbelief and wonder.
“I think…” He looked up then, and their eyes met. “Holy shit, Ginnie, I think I found it.”
Her eyes widened. She was immediately at his side and nudging him over so that she could steal a peak through the microscope. She blinked. “How…” She looked away and then peered through it again. “How?” She finally asked.
“We knew the channel was one point seven, but the serum wasn’t quieting it; I just had to find the right combination… And, this morning, I wound up with one that felt familiar to me. I tried it,” he said, “And it worked.” He laughed then, running a hand through his hair. He found he was shaking. “We’ve officially shut and locked the pain gate!”
Virginia laughed as well, and then she was leaping into his arms, where he easily caught her and spun her around. Across the room, a door opened and closed. Craig looked over Virginia’s head and his grin widened. “Doctor Sinclaire, we’ve done it!”
Doctor John Sinclaire was a small man of Indian origin, and John Sinclaire was not at all his real name. However, that was what he went by because it was pronounceable. Jack Thane was a close friend to the doctor; it had been Sinclaire that Jack was talking about when he’d told Craig Brandt that he knew someone in England who could help get him set up in a well supplied lab.
Sinclaire was a good doctor, a caring man, who was driven by that goal a few very special people in the medical profession are driven by – the need to make a real contribution to the field of medical science.
So, at the moment, John Sinclaire stood dumbfounded, an almost comically surprised look on his youthful face. His eyes were golf-ball white and his mouth was open wide. “Oh my Gott,” he said softly. “You are kidding me.”
Craig shook his head and gently set Virginia down. They were both grinning broadly, and Craig’s eyes were shining. He reached under the microscope and extracted the slide, holding it out toward Sinclaire.
The Indian doctor slowly came forward, as if his legs wouldn’t move fast enough beneath him. He gazed at the slide. “You found the right combination?”
Craig nodded.
“Holy shit.” Sinclaire took the slide gingerly and held it as if he were holding an eighty carat diamond. “We must reproduce these findings quickly,” he said, almost distractedly, as he continued to stare at the slide. “We must back them up right away.”
“I’m on it,” Craig told him, turning at once to the task at hand.
“Why not belay that, Mr. Brandt,” came a deep voice from the same door that Dr. Sinclaire had come through.
Everyone spun around to face the intruder, Sinclaire barely managing not to drop the slide in his hand.
A tall black man stood in the open doorway, two very large, very mean looking men flanking him. They were armed.
But so was Craig.
He hadn’t felt completely safe in six very long years. Being on the proverbial “wanted dead or alive” poster will make you a bit jumpy over time. So, in the six years since he’d gone underground, he’d learned a few things.
One of them was to never let your guard down. And since Osborne had yet to die, Craig had yet to go a day without carrying a weapon. Right now, a shoulder holster beneath his lab coat held two loaded pistols, compliments of Jack Thane.
Craig shoved Virginia down to the ground with one hand and drew one of his guns with the other. There was no warning to his action; it was automatic. At the same time, Dr. Sinclaire squealed with alarm and threw himself out of the way, sliding into a protected alcove behind a cooler that held Petri dishes and vials as if he were sliding into second.
Osborne’s men reacted as quickly as they could, simultaneously attempting to shove their own boss to the floor while drawing their weapons. However, they were precious moments slower than Craig had been. Brandt fired off a few rounds and one of his bullets found purchase in the chest of the man to Osborne’s left before the big guy was able to protect himself.
The giant man jerked backwards with the impact, slamming into the wall behind him and scrambling to get his feet back beneath him. When no blood blossomed on his shirt, Craig realized that they were wearing vests and his fear level ratcheted up a few notches.
Meanwhile, Virginia scrambled across the ground behind the lab counter, and then cowered against its farthest corner, protected by feet of metal and wood on two sides.
Godrick Osborne called out to Craig from where he was hidden behind another counter. “Brandt, you can’t win this fight! Think about it!”
“Go to Hell, Osborne!” Craig replied, ducking beneath the counter beside Virginia as Osborne’s men once more took aim and fired. Craig, too, was wearing a protective vest beneath his clothing, as were Sinclaire and Virginia – Jack had insisted upon it. But all that did was even out the playing field once more so that three relatively small people were up against three relatively big people who very much wanted them to be dead and had practice making people that way.
Craig glanced at Virginia and their eyes met. Six long years the man on the other side of the counter had made their lives hellish. Craig had been on the run, in hiding, always looking over his shoulder as he simultaneously tried to keep the woman he loved safe. Virginia had thought he was dead. That was Hell enough.
“Brandt, all I want is you!” Osborne began again, yelling to be heard clearly through the layers of wood and metal separating him from his target. “You’re the one who knows the cure. Turn yourself in and Meredith and Sinclair can go! You have my word!”
Virginia shook her head furiously. “Don’t believe him, Craig.”
“I’m not.” Craig told her. He knew Osborne was lying. The business man would never take the chance that Virginia or John Sinclaire knew the right combination to make the cure work. He had no choice but to destroy everything and anyone involved with its creation – and that included everyone in this room, along with Annabelle Drake, Dylan Anderson, Cassie Reid, and the entire Thane family.
Osborne wouldn’t stop until they were all dead.
“How about this, Osborne!” Craig began, his mind frantically working as he chose his words. “Let us go and we’ll credit the cure to you and let the past be the past! Forget about Teresa and Max Anderson! No one has to know! Just publish our findings and take the cure public! You’ll have everything you’ve made up until now and you’ll go down in history as the man who cured EM!”
There was silence after this, and Craig’s heart pounded hard in his chest.
“Come, come, now Brandt!” Osborne finally shot back. “For a highly intelligent man, your naivete surprises
