They had to blink several times to adjust their eyes to the artificial light. While on the outside the greenhouse had looked bright and cheery, it was a different story on the inside. The hallway they were standing in was dimly lit, doors lining the walls on either side. Alexander passed by several before finally entering one.
"This," he said, with another flourish, "is where we are currently working on finding a cure for the latest weapon that the middle eastern world seems to be developing!"
Two scientists in lab coats were working near a long table lined with microscopes, test tubes, notebooks, plant samples, and two laptops. They did not look up as the group entered, so involved in their work.
"Dr. Smythe! Dr. Brown!" barked Alexander, annoyed that the two had not acknowledged him as he had entered the room.
The two looked up and quickly made their way over to where the group was standing.
"Status report!" Alexander ordered, snapping his fingers. The male scientist picked up a chair and set it by Alexander, who sat down, glaring at the man as if the chair should have already been there, waiting for him.
The woman flicked a glance at the group assembled, then focused her attention back on Alexander.
Her voice was husky and slightly accented when she spoke. "We have eliminated several possibilities of herbs and are narrowing down our choices - which is a good sign, as you know, sir. I just emailed you a report on several other possible ingredients, if we can manage to have them shipped to us. I'm afraid there will be some cost involved."
Alexander gave a curt nod, then waved his hand, and the man removed the chair as Alexander stood. He turned back to the group.
"As you can see, our scientists here are working hard on finding a cure. These gentlemen, and lady," he corrected, bowing in Scarlett's direction, "are here for the soldiers that were capsized near our island several weeks ago," he stated, addressing Dr. Smythe. He ignored Dr. Brown, who backed away slowly. Alexander made a gesture, and the man returned to his work.
Flint noticed the dumpy looking woman kept her head bowed as Alexander spoke to her. The abrupt change in Alexander's manner had startled, but not surprised him. He had been waiting for some sign of the man's madness. His casual statement about the soldiers, though, had him glancing over at Scarlett, whose jaw was clenched. Up to this point, Alexander had not given them any details, such as the soldiers being stranded. Flint highly doubted that's what had happened. Alexander seemed very in control of his surroundings. He doubted much surprised the man.
Alexander walked the few steps so that he was facing Dr. Smythe, tilting her face so that she was looking at him. "Such a beautiful brain in such an ugly shell," he was saying with regret, shaking his head. Scarlett's eyes narrowed at his cruel words. "It's such a shame. Maybe we should be working on a brain transplant, then, huh? Our genetics could have gone so well together – our two brains could have created a super power, only…well, we all know where that fails," he sighed dramatically, glacing over her mole-ridden face and thick-lensed glasses. He chuckled, as if this was an old joke between the two. "Maybe if we could isolate a gene or two…"
Dr. Smythe's eyes were blank and when Alexander released his hold on her, she bowed her head once more, her shoulders slumped. Scarlett forcefully unclenched her fists, not wanting Alexander to pick up on her reaction to the little scene. She was not here to cause any conflicts, even though she knew Iron and Byrd would be more than happy to see him dead.
"Dr. Smythe, we will need to let these nice people see their soldiers, then, won't we?" Alexander cheerfully called out, his mood changing once again. "I will let you lead them to those nice boys!"
At his whistle, two armed guards appeared at the doorway. Dr. Smythe shuffled to the doorway herself, her gait uneven, as if one leg were shorter than the other.
"Not much to look at," Alexander said aside to Bond, chuckling, "but she has her uses! If only her body was as beautiful as her brain! Ah, but then, she wouldn't have to work so hard, would she? Yes," he nodded his head, as if agreeing to a silent statement, "there have to be unattractive people in the world so that they work harder and make our lives better. They have less distractions that way," Alexander nodded again, believing this to be a deep revelation.
Bond gave him a quick smile. Like Scarlett, he didn't want to offend the man. He just wanted to get the soldiers, find Lady Jaye, and get out.
Dr. Smythe shuffled on ahead of the group until they reached the end of the hallway. Holding up her hand to a panel that blended into the wall, it opened before their eyes, revealing what looked to be a large closet. She reached up and began handing what looked to be Hazmat suits to the group.
"You will need to put these on, I'm afraid," Alexander said, his voice apologetic. "We cannot have anyone else exposed!"
Anyone else? Scarlett raised her eyebrows, making eye contact with her team. What the hell did that mean?
Once suited up, Dr. Smythe put her hand to another panel, and the back of the closet swung open, revealing another small room, this one lined with what looked to be a dense fiberglass, a thick door at the other end.
The group, after putting on the suits, entered the small room. A powerful vent came on, and the small contingent realized what it was – they were being sanitized! What was on the other side of this door?
"Come, then!" Alexander said, once the vent turned off and he pulled open the thick door, anxious for the revelation, not to mention the reaction of his "visitors." He pushed his way past Dr. Smythe, who stumbled.
Scarlett put her hand at her arm, steadying her. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.
The scientist did not answer, just quickly recovered her balance and hobbled on. Scarlett frowned, Flint joining her.
"What's with her?" he asked in a low voice.
"Not sure, but spending time here could do it to you. My guess is she's been someone's punching bag for awhile," Scarlett answered in an equally low voice, her eyes on the woman. "Three guesses who, the first two don't count."