The Protocol: A Prescription to Die (20 page)

BOOK: The Protocol: A Prescription to Die
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Chapter 60

Carl hadn’t checked in for five days, and Barbara had no clue where he could be. It wasn’t like him not to contact her at least four times a day with a phone call, email, or text message. Most of the time his messages were as useless. At times there was the rare nugget of useful information.

Not often. Sometimes.

But she played to his insecurities. She needed him for now, and he served a purpose. The moment he outlived his usefulness, she’d put down her anxious, little puppy. His personality was the type that required constant affirmation, so she played along, patted his head every now and then, and slipped him a piece of kibble in the form of a few nuggets of crystal meth.

Her personality, on the other hand, was the type to use those who needed constant affirmation. Theirs was a symbiotic relationship.

Until now, the partnership had worked.

Her problem wasn’t that she missed her Carl, but that she had a backlog of protocols to complete and right now, he was the only one who knew the process. She was behind schedule and that was simply unacceptable. The societal herd needed culling, and it was her responsibility to be the culler.

One of the waiting cull-ees was Teague’s mother. If no one else was processed this week, she wanted that bitch done with. Teague’s son had caused enough trouble, and she wanted to make sure Teague understood the rules.

Barbara looked at her watch for the sixth time in the past twenty minutes. She picked up her phone and looked at its screen. There were no waiting text messages. No unread emails. No voicemails. She disconnected the phone from the charger, and threw it against the far wall of her office. It shattered and fell to the floor in pieces, leaving a gouge in the painted drywall. She’d missed her target, the window, by a foot.

She wasn’t used to being ignored.

She pressed the intercom button on her phone.

“Yes, Ms. Nordstrom?”

“Hold my calls. I’ll be leaving in thirty minutes, and out for the rest of the day. And tell tech support that I need a new phone on my desk by the end of the day. Mine’s not working.”

“Yes, Ms. Nordstrom. Anything else?”

“Call facilities. Housekeeping must have scraped my walls while cleaning. They’re a mess.”

“Yes, Ms…”

Barbara pressed the “End Call” button on her phone.

“Fucking sycophant,” she said to the phone.

Barbara decided to take things into her own hands.

But first, before she left, she had a few quick emails to send.

Chapter 61

Thanks to the little toy he’d planted in Barbara’s office, Eat’s phone buzzed every time she clicked the send button. His phone had been buzzing constantly for the past fifteen minutes.

“She’s being very talkative today,” he said to Andy from across the living room.

Despite the fact that his arm was still in a cast, and throbbed with each beat of his heart, he was managing relatively well. He was also able to perform some interesting acrobatics with the mouse and keyboard. He used a pencil stuck between his fingers to press keys with his casted arm and moved the mouse with his left. He heard a giggle and looked up.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked Andy above the din of the espresso maker.

“You. You look hilarious trying to maneuver that pencil. Your whole body twists when you do that. Ever see Chubby Checker?”

Eat stuck out his tongue.

“You are too cute,” she said as she blew him a kiss, but he didn’t see it. His attention had returned to his computer screen.

“Whoa. What do we have here?”

Andy finished making their lattes, and brought them over to the table where Eat was sitting.

“I brought you a straw. What’s up?”

Eat pointed to the email on the screen that Barbara had just sent to Carl.

“She’s wondering where he’s at. She sounds pissed,” he scrolled down some more. “She’s telling him that if he doesn’t get back to her by noon today, he’s fired. But here’s the news. Mom’s next. See?” he pointed to the screen. “She’s saying that she wants 5431-B protocoled tonight. That she’s doing it if he can’t.”

“How do you know it’s your mother?”

Eat bent over, put the straw into his mouth, and sipped some of his latte. He then moved the mouse to another window and accessed the Aequalis database using an account he’d created for himself. He entered his mother’s name using the pencil, and then clicked the search button. Within seconds his mother’s Aequalis profile appeared.

“See. My mother’s Aequalis ID is 5431-B. Barbara’s smart and doesn’t use names in her emails.”

Eat cleared the screen and entered his father’s name.

“See. Dad was 5431-A. According to this he was protocoled on February 10.”

“I have to admit, this lady is ballsy.”

“No kidding there.”

“Can you get me one of those IV thingies, and those long tubes from your office? I’ll need some sort of vial or collector to connect to the end of the tube.”

“I work with dead people, remember? We normally don’t put IV thingies in corpses. But I know what you’re talking about, and I’m sure I can dig a thingie or two up. Why?”

“We have work to do. I’ll explain later, but you are going to be my Joan Crawford,” he replied as he gave her a kiss on the cheek then moved down to nibble her neck. “You get to the lab for the IV thingie. I’ll fill you in later. I gotta give Butch a call.”

“How much time do you think we have?”

“Not enough for what you are thinking.”

“You wish,” said Andy as she slapped Eat’s good shoulder.

“Ow! That hurt.”

This time it was Eat’s turn for a toothy grin.

“Ok. I gotta get back to this. Quit taunting me. I’m wounded, remember?”

Eat returned his attention to his laptop and scanned the emails.

“She says 10:00 in this email to Carl,” he pointed to the screen with his pencil then looked at the clock. “That gives us about five hours. Let’s say four hours, to be safe.”

Chapter 62

At 10:15, Barbara pressed the button on her Mercedes’ key fob, popped the trunk, and pulled out her leather satchel. It was a nice piece from Coach that cost her five hundred dollars. Well, it hadn’t really cost her anything; she’d just expensed it to Aequalis. It was nice having several hundred million dollars at her disposal.

Although it was dark outside, and only a small staff was on duty, she didn’t want to be overt and announce her arrival at Sunshine Assisted Living Center, so she parked as far away from the door as possible. Carl never did respond to her calls, so she finally decided to take matters into her own hands.

She’d deal with him later.

It was time to put him down.

She used her badge to enter through the side door next to the garden, and climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. She was headed towards the room occupied by 5431-B.

Betty Lou Teague.

The old woman had done nothing wrong except cost Aequalis money, but Barbara wanted to prove a point to Betty Lou’s son: you don’t poke a cobra with a stick and get away with it.

She knew the building, every floor, and every apartment. She could walk its hallways in the dark. 5431-B’s room was at the end of the hall on the fifth floor. Most residents covered their doors with festive decorations: spring flowers, Easter bunnies, flags, pumpkins, turkeys, and Santas. Old Lady Teague’s door just had her name.

Using her master key, she opened the door to the apartment. Except for a small night light, it was dark. She froze at a sudden noise.

“Shit, woman,” she whispered when she realized the sound was Mrs. Teague snoring.

There she was. All tucked in her small twin bed. Covers up to her neck. Face towards the wall, away from the door. The digital clock next to her bed was one marketed to the geriatric crowd, and had numbers that were at least six inches tall.

The time was 10:18.

Barbara sat on the overstuffed chair next to the bed, opened her satchel, and pulled out the special syringe she had created just for the lady sleeping so soundly next to her.

“Soundly,” was a vast understatement. Barbara could barely hear her own thoughts above the din of the old woman’s snoring.

The nightlight provided just enough glow for Barbara to navigate the area, and maneuver the blankets. Betty Lou was sleeping on her left side and, if Carl had done his job right, the IV port was put into her right arm, the arm that was conveniently on top and outside of the blankets.

A small ruffle of blanket obscured her arm. Quietly, Barbara moved the tuft out of the way.

The IV port seemed to glow in the ambient light. Barbara took the cover off of the needle, and slowly inserted it into the silicon protecting the port. When the needle was at its stop, she slowly pressed the plunger.

Barbara’s heart was racing.

She enjoyed the adrenaline rush. Now she understood why Carl enjoyed his job so much. This felt pretty good.

Culling the herd was definitely a rush.

And fun.

She’d have to do this more often.

“Carl was having way too much fun,” she whispered.

As she began to withdraw the needle, she glimpsed movement out of the corner of her eye.

A shadow.

Her body tensed, and the ambient glow of the nightlight disappeared.

Chapter 63

Barbara’s body fell to the carpeted floor. It quivered, flopped, jerked, and finally calmed. Her face was still contorted in pain.

Despite the ominous atmosphere, Eat, Andy, and Butch looked at one another and laughed.

“That was cool. Can I do it again?” asked Butch.

“However much I’d enjoy watching it again, 50,000 volts is enough,” said Eat as he sniffed the air. “I think she pissed herself.”

Eat walked to Andy and, since both of his arms were currently unusable, nudged her with his forehead and gave her a kiss.

“Andy. Are you ok? That was some great snoring.”

Andy sat up in the bed and pulled off her wig.

“Didn’t feel a thing.” Then she looked down at the floor at Barbara, “She’s not looking too hot though.”

Andy crouched down on her knees.

“Wow. Look at that?”

“What?”

“That scar!”

The bottom of Barbara’s blouse had rolled up during the fall and her abdomen was exposed.

“She’s had a kidney transplant. I can tell by the scar.”

“I wonder who paid for that?” asked Butch.

Still using the pencil, not really listening to what was going on with Barbara, Eat made a few clicks on his laptop, and watched the previous scene replay before his eyes. “We have it. The camera picked up everything, and the mike worked perfectly.”

They watched the complete replay and laughed again as they watched Barbara convulse on the floor.

“That is absolutely precious. Definite Internet material,” said Eat.

Andy removed the tape securing the faux IV to her arm, and looped the tubing into a circle until the vial landed on her lap. Carefully, she pulled the needle out of the collection vial and held it up to the light.

“Looks like we have enough to determine its composition. My guess is
succinyl choline
. I’ll take this to the lab and get it analyzed.”

Eat fumbled in his coat pocket and handed her the keys to the car.

“Shouldn’t take me long.”

She looked down at Barbara who was moaning on the floor.

“What do we do with her?”

“Give me a sec,” said Eat as he struggled to pull his phone out of his pocket. He pressed re-dial and waited for the call to be answered. “We’re ready,” he said.

Andy looked at him quizzically.

Eat stretched a finger from his casted arm indicating that he’d be just another minute. “Perfect. See you soon,” he said then ended the call. “Joey. He’s bringing a wheelchair for our patient. After we leave, he’ll bring mom back to her room. She’s sound asleep. Perfectly fine. He doubts that she’ll even wake up when he moves her back.”

He looked down at Barbara and gestured with his good hand; her groaning was evolving into precise, four-lettered English. It also sounded as if she were calling for her father. He looked at Butch, and then again at Barbara.

He shrugged.

“Give her another zap. We need her quiet for a bit longer.”

“My pleasure,” said Butch as he pressed the nodes against her neck and pulled the trigger.

Barbara flopped again; her entire body stiffened, and shook. When she calmed, her bladder set itself free, and created a large dark spot on her blue pantsuit.

Chapter 64

The police car drove through the roundabout leading to Aequalis’ front entrance. Two officers, having been dispatched from an anonymous 911 call, got out and walked to the woman passed out on the steps.

“Ma’am, are you ok?”

The second officer leaned closer.

“Whoa. She’s lit up like a Christmas tree. Can you smell that?”

“I smelled it when I got out of the car! Piss and tequila. An aromatic combo.”

“Ma’am,” he said as he prodded her arm.

The woman stirred and opened her eyes. It was as if flames came out of her pupils.

“Get the fuck away from me before I break your arm!” she yelled, and threw a fist hitting one of the officers leaning over her on the side of the head.

“Cuff her. See if she has an ID in that bag of hers. We better call this one in.”

“The car’s camera is on, right?”

“Sure is. Unless you turned it off.”

“Nope. I can see its light now. It’s on. We’re live and recording.”

The second officer pulled out his cuffs, while the first took her bag and moved in complete view of the car’s camera. He rummaged through her bag in search of identification.

“What do we have here?” he said as he held up a plastic sandwich bag containing two small opaque nuggets that looked like dirty glass.

“Crystal. Looks like we found ourselves a winner.”

The man held out the license he found in the purse.

“Her name is Barbara Nordstrom.”

He pulled out some more cards.

“Looks like she works here.”

The other officer started to lift Barbara to her feet.

“Get me out of these cuffs, you son of a bitch. I work for the government. Your heads will roll,” she yelled as she kicked the second officer in the crotch.

The officer doubled over, unable to breathe.

“You want some more of these?” she said as she waved her foot with the pointed shoe. “I’ll castra . . . . .”

The officer slowly regained his composure and was able to stand up, somewhat. While he was bent over, he’d pulled his stun gun from its holster, and flipped the safety off.

He aimed it at Barbara and pulled the trigger. Two barbs attached to the gun by a pair of thin, insulated wires, flew through the air and attached themselves to her exposed thigh. Barbara fell to the ground, quivered and groaned.

Then farted.

“When the air clears, throw that bitch in the car before I use my other gun. The one with bullets.”

The officer sat down on the concrete steps took deep, deep breaths, and waited for his balls to descend from behind his kidneys.

He was glad everything was on camera.

“I want to throw the book at this bitch.”

BOOK: The Protocol: A Prescription to Die
12.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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