Halon-Seven (18 page)

“You think you know how they’re going to react?” She didn’t think he was wrong, but she wanted to understand the logic that brought him to this conclusion.

Cyrus nodded. There was a sparkle in his eyes, something tangle hinting at what she suspected to be a guarded level of intelligence. He was still thinking, contemplating the situation. For whatever reason, he seemed to downplay his own talents—and not for the first time. “I figure the team is a bunch of civilians, and a group of academics at that. Likely accustomed to a certain routine, a certain way of doing things. Each one of them agreed to Professor Meade’s protocols when they signed on, but I’d bet none of them expected a situation like this. Right now, they’re probably up there climbing the walls and wanting to know what’s happened—what’s really going on. They’ll be scared.”

He stopped a moment. She could tell he wasn’t through with the thought, but he was trying to decide whether it was better to leave it at that. “Scared people have a tendency to do very foolish things,” he continued. “That’s why Meade had this isolation protocol ready. It’s a good plan. If worse comes to worst, you put everyone in one spot and deal with them as a group. There’s less of a danger to the project if they’re contained. Maybe more importantly, they’re less of a danger to themselves.”

Taking all of that in, Reese wasn’t sure how to respond. Maybe she should’ve just let him keep his thoughts to himself. He had a pessimistic way of looking at the situation, and at a group of people he didn’t know personally. There would certainly be people prone to reacting poorly in a situation like this, but her team was a group of well-educated, extremely intelligent individuals. Walter had chosen each because they were the best in their fields.

For lack of a better response, she chose no response. But for the first time since their meeting, she found herself reluctant to look Cyrus in the eye. Instead, she simply turned and started slowly up the staircase.

—————

Cyrus watched Reese
walk away. The was no question that his analysis had not met with her approval. She thought he was being close-minded and dismissive. He took a deep breath and pulled out his cell phone. While he was sure that Meade’s well-designed protocol included a plan for sequestering the development team while the threat was investigated, he couldn’t be sure that the plan itself had not already been subverted. With Meade gone, there was no way to be sure. The only way to ensure safety and secrecy was to break with the current protocol. He would come up with a plan of his own.

For that he would need help.

—————

By the time
Reese reached the doorway at the top of the staircase, she could already hear raised voices beyond. It was the sound of chaos, half a dozen people bickering—most speaking at once. She steeled herself before pushing through the door.

The office beyond was a large, mostly empty space. There were eight utilitarian steel desks evenly spaced throughout the twenty-by-thirty-foot space. Each desk had its own chair and telephone. Aside from that, the space was spartan. There was absolutely no additional furniture, no plants, and no decoration of any kind. Her team sat scattered around the center of the room in a rough circle. Some sitting on empty desktops, others were perched on the edges of
 
uncomfortable World War II era office chairs. As soon as she entered the room, all voices stopped and all eyes fixed on her. Her stomach churned as she focused on appearing strong and confident, even though she felt anything but.

“What has happened? Why have we been called here?” The question had come from Sanjay Patel, one of two mathematicians on the project. Sanjay was about five foot six and 140 pounds. His coarse black hair was already thinning dramatically at the crown of his head, despite the fact that he was only 27. Today, like every other, he wore his trademark button-down shirt with a sweater vest. It was his custom, no matter the weather conditions.

“We have been waiting for hours!” he continued. His voice was already growing in outrage. Reese expected him to be the prominent dissenting voice of the group and he hadn’t disappointed her. She’d made it all of three steps through the door and he was already starting to read her the riot act.

“Stop it, Sanjay!” the tall blonde woman standing at the edge of the room chastised. “Give her a minute to breathe!” This was Tracy Clark, the group’s computer systems and network specialist. At five foot eleven, she virtually towered over Sanjay. And since she was a woman, Sanjay cowed to her admonishment. Tracy was tall and thin with a runner’s physique. With blonde hair and blue eyes, she had a stunning beauty that would’ve opened doors for her no matter what career path she chose. But it was her intelligence that set her apart and found her a home on this team.

Sanjay lacked the confidence to bully women the way he tried to dominate men. Reese knew she was now the exception to his unspoken rule. For her the dynamic was now different. Sanjay wanted to be the alpha male; he liked to challenge authority above all else. What he lacked in physical acumen, he believed was counterbalanced by his intellect. Since the team was now her responsibility, he would bully her in an attempt to secure a dominant position atop the new hierarchy.

“I only want to know what the hell is going on!” Sanjay
 
hissed back.

Reese cleared her throat. “I’m sorry we’re late. We ran into a complication at Alfie’s place after he didn’t respond to the 1412.”

All eyes turned expectantly to Alfie Ahmed. He virtually withered under their stares. Reese was afraid he was going to be sick again.

“Did you say
we
?” This was from Chad Brewster. He was a broad-shouldered, burly young man, only couple of years out of college. He had the look of the all-pro lineman which he’d nearly been. But, as is so many times the case, an unfortunate injury had prematurely ended his football career. Chad had fallen back on his education and gotten a degree in mechanical engineering. His build and many of his mannerisms were holdovers from his football days. He had the look of a big dumb jock, but the appearance was deceptive. He was sharp. “You’re not here alone?”

“No, I’m not here alone,” she said with a sigh. She wasn’t going to get anywhere until everyone calmed down. “That’s one of the things we need to talk about. If everyone could please gather round and take a seat, we have some urgent issues to discuss.”

This sparked an entirely new chorus of outbursts with nearly everyone speaking over one another. Only two of those in attendance abstained from the bickering. The first was Alfie Ahmed, who stared blankly at the floor. He still looked like he might be sick. The second was Dennis Driscoll, the oldest member of the team at 30 years of age. Dennis was about 225 pounds, with a pronounced gut, thick curly black hair, and bushy pork-chop sideburns. It was no surprise that Dennis was silently taking everything in. He was the quiet member of the group. He was also the second mathematician on the team, which meant he was partnered with Sanjay. Reese always thought of Dennis and Sanjay as the
meek
and the
monger
. But they produced results, as much as she could do without Sanjay at times.

“Hey!” Reese finally yelled. “I said get over here and sit down!”

The loud bark and sharp orders were a never-before-seen occurrence that stunned the group into submission. They finally quieted. It took only moments for the group to arrange office chairs and take their places. In the span of seconds, they looked less like an angry mob and more like a class awaiting a lecture.

Reese was fuming. She’d blown her cool and that was bad enough. But what had really gotten under her skin was how perfectly Cyrus had predicted this. These people were primed to come unglued. But there was an even more unpleasant realization that brought a twisting pain to the pit of her stomach. He was right. They really were a danger to themselves.

Dammit!

On top of that, she felt guilty for thinking poorly of his take on the situation. Cyrus had only spoken his mind. He wasn’t judging or criticizing, simply giving an objective assessment. But rather than take it under advisement, she had dismissed his opinion. What rattled her more was that she sincerely felt bad about it. Tensions were high. She was entitled to make mistakes as much as anyone. So why did she feel so guilty for such a minor misstep? Was she developing feelings for him? It wasn’t really a question. She knew that she was. But they had known each other less than 24 hours. She knew almost nothing about him.

She pushed the thoughts aside. It would be enough to pay more attention to his assessments in the future. It was a mistake she could learn from. Now they needed to move on.

Oddly, she realized, her brief mental side trip on Cyrus had calmed the burning pain deep in her stomach. That was interesting…

“You’ve all heard Professor Meade refer to his associate, Mister Cooper, over the last couple of years. He was the consultant who suggested the platform’s laser array. The quantum data link was another of their collaborative brainstorms.” She scanned the faces and concluded that everyone was paying attention. Even Alfie seemed to welcome the chance to focus his attention on something less grim.

“Well,” she continued. “As of late last night, Mister Cooper has joined the team.”

“Excuse me, Reese,” Sanjay butted in. “I hardly think this news is worthy of every one of us dropping what we were doing and racing down the coast, to some second-rate office.”

Reese’s eyes lit with flames. She had never felt like throttling another living person like she did right now. He had no tact, no patience—he was just an ass! If he only knew what she’d been through in the last 24 hours!

—————

Cyrus was standing
just beyond the door and listening to the exchange. All in all, Reese was handling the group well. Cyrus was already developing a strong dislike for Sanjay. Maybe that was something they could work on. All the same, it seemed like a good time to join the conversation. He was pretty sure Reese was about to blow a gasket.

Cyrus pushed the door open with his foot and walked into the room. All eyes vectored to meet him. He smiled and held up the two travel flats containing to-go cups of coffee. A bag of donuts dangled from his clenched fist. “Morning folks!” he smiled. “The new guy springs for breakfast, right?”

Looks from across the room were a mix of everything imaginable. They were completely off balance. All the better, as far as he was concerned. They would need the mental reset in order to process the current situation.

Reese’s eyes met his. He saw the tension melt from them as he stepped closer. It was a relief. He wasn’t sure how she would react to him walking in on her dressing down of the troops. The corners of her lips threatened a small smile.

Okay then, it’s a welcomed interruption after all.

Cyrus set the coffee and donuts down on the desk in the center of the group. Everyone was silent, but their eyes followed him. They looked at him as if he had come from another planet. He didn’t react, just took a seat beside Reese on top of a desk in front of the group.

“Please, eat up folks,” Cyrus said with a smile. “Once you hear what we have to say, you might not have much of an appetite.”

To Cyrus’s satisfaction, not a single question was asked. Not so much as a word was whispered. Collectively they seemed lost, unsure what to do, given the circumstances. They slowly started passing around the styrofoam coffee cups, and a few even helped themselves to donuts.

Once everyone was situated, Cyrus began recounting the events of the past eighteen hours. He started by explaining the attempted kidnapping of Reese, the attempt to kill him, and the bomb that was found in Alfie’s truck. He went on to explain how someone had attempted to follow them to this meeting. An unknown force was targeting the group. Apparently some team members were targeted for abduction, while others were targeted for outright assassination. Until they could figure out who was behind the attacks, no one was safe.

To that end, Cyrus had arranged a safe house. The team would be relocated until the threat was neutralized. They all knew a project like theirs would be of paramount interest to any number of foreign governments, as well as the dozens of multi-billion-dollar-a-year businesses that the technology threatened to disrupt or even make entirely obsolete. There had been a breach in security. Until they identified that breach and any complications related to it were neutralized, the team would be safe only if moved to an undisclosed, off-the-grid location.

Cyrus anticipated pushback from the team when it came to going into hiding. He wasn’t disappointed.

“You must be joking!” Sanjay sneered.

It didn’t surprise Cyrus that Sanjay was the first to fight the plan. In fact, he would’ve put money on it. He had’t even looked at the team dossiers, though that would be a high priority with the work that was to come. Sanjay had a cantankerous way about him. It was as if he
tried
to rub people the wrong way.

Sanjay stood and looked around the room. “I, for one, have no intention of hiding from this threat. If we run now, when do we stop? We must act decisively. We must respond. To run and hide is the act of a coward!”

The rest of the eyes in the room watched Sanjay carefully, but Cyrus also saw those same eyes looking to Reese and himself for a response. It was critical to deal with Sanjay now. He was making a power grab. He was campaigning and giving a pep talk, but he had no idea what he was saying. It bordered on gibberish. He would blindly put himself and others in danger, if only to gain a leadership position—even if it was suicide.

Cyrus looked to Reese. He didn’t want to overstep. He’d already done as much outside by predicting the response of those in this room. She thought he’d been judging them harshly. It hadn’t been his intention. He was only putting himself in their shoes. But fair enough, she didn’t know him that well. They would work on that, he hoped.

Reese met his eyes. What he read there was steadfast support. There was no question or concern in her eyes. She looked to him as if she already knew he had a response locked and loaded. A slight nod of her head was his go signal.