Chapter Three
Logan sat in his office, his back to his desk as he stared distractedly out of the window that looked over the Seattle skyline. Behind him, various papers were scattered across his desk, a small laptop sat humming quietly, and a mug of untouched coffee sat untouched.
It had been a little over a week since Phillip's birthday party where he'd witnesses the amazing acts of that mystery woman. The mystery woman he couldn't seem to get out of him mind. Right now, he was supposed to be reviewing the distribution reports for the board meeting that afternoon with the shareholders, but instead, he was staring out his window, wondering how the hell a five seven woman beat the crap out of not only him, at six foot three, plus six security guards all at least six inches taller than her and most of which twice her size, and managed to look damn sexy in the process. And then after that, she jumped out of a second story window without a second thought.
Logan sat pondering this for a few more moments before he heard the door open behind him. "Hey Kat." He said, not even turning to make sure it really was her.
"Mr. Cale." He heard her soft, kind voice from behind him, and he smiled. Spinning on the wheels of his leather computer chair, he turned to face Kat, who was standing in front of the desk, placing a small pile of papers in the center of the desk. "If you could sign those, I can send them out this afternoon."
"Sure." Logan said as he slid the papers closer to him and grabbed a pen out of the Lucite holder at the corner of his desk.
While Logan went through each paper, Kat went around the room and maternally straightened up the piles of folders, gathered the empty coffee mugs that were all over the room, and then stood to wait while Logan signed the memos.
Kat studied him, the way he insisted on reading each and every word of each and every memo even though they were the ones he wrote yesterday himself. His hair was a mess, spiking each and every way with tracts through it where his fingers had run through, which she knew was habit whenever he was writing something. He'd been working his ass off for two weeks straight, having gone from Seattle to Chicago and back to Seattle again in the course of one week, getting attacked at his godfather's birthday party, and now had less than two days to finalize next month's issue of 'The Reality'.
"I don't know how you do it." Kat said somewhat exasperated.
Logan looked up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Do what."
"You have probably gotten all of twelve hours of sleep in the past week, and you are here, not complaining in the least."
Logan laughed. "I guess it is in the genes. My dad was a workaholic too. I…" He trailed off as he stared blankly ahead for a moment. "That's it." He whispered.
"Huh?" Kat asked perplexed. "What?"
Logan grinned up at her boyishly. He quickly scrawled his signature on the last of the memos and handed them to her even as he turned to tap a key on his laptop to unlock the screensaver.
Kat barely noticed the sudden change in pace for Logan, as was another habit of his. Some random inspiration would hit him and he would jump head first into whatever it was, whether it was writing a controversial editorial, or searching for a hard to find doll to add to his beloved nieces collection.
"Call me if you need anything, Mr. Cale." Kat said, which was probably lost on Logan as his fingers were rapidly flying over the keys, his brow furrowed as he stared intently on the screen in front of him.
"That's it." Logan muttered under his breath as he pulled up an Internet search engine.
The only possible way that that tiny woman had pulled off what she did was if she was enhanced. Sure, he'd heard the old urban legends when he'd been in high school about the soldiers that had been trained from birth to kill, and these children having super human powers. But that's all they were, urban legends.
But the concept of genetic engineering was far from being an urban legend. Before the Pulse, genetic engineering had been one of the fastest growing fields in medicine, with some of the most successful treatments and preventions of cancer and leukemia coming from the works of geneticists.
Logan watched the cursor blink in the search bar, wondering where he should start. Deciding that he had nowhere to look but the obvious.
gene therapy
Logan hit the search key, and waited.
Over 8745 matches.
Logan sighed as he clicked on the first match. It was going to be a long morning.
After several hours of searching, note taking, and dead end phone calls, Logan was quickly becoming frustrated. There was absolutely no evidence of any sort of gene therapy, genetic engineering, or anything close to a description of what he had witnessed in Phillip's office a couple days ago.
After spending twenty minuets on hold with a idiot doctor who not only had no idea what Logan was talking about, most of the time he hadn't know what he was talking about himself, Logan decided that he was dedicating five more minuets to this and if he didn't find anything, it was time to move on.
Picking his last website, Logan clicked on the link.
Expert Speaks on Genetic Engineering at the University of California
Logan sat back as the page loaded, pulling his glasses off his face and scrubbed his fingers over his eyes in frustration.
As he read the article, Logan's eyes widened. "Oh my god." He muttered.
He reached over and hit the intercom and stabbed the button with a finger as he picked up his pen and started to scribble furiously on the pad of paper in front of him.
"Kat, I need you to track down a number for me. Last name Lydecker. Donald Lydecker."
Two days later, Logan walked down the Klein Street; warily approaching the park bench Lydecker had directed him too. Then man had been extraordinarily creepy, in Logan's opinion.
When Kat had finally traced down a Colonel Donald Lydecker, now stationed at a Sedro Island, eighty miles south of Seattle, Logan had spent twenty minuets gathering all the information he could on the man before he'd made any calls at all.
His main question was, why was an expert on genetic engineering stationed at a SAC Air Force Base?
After he'd placed the call to Lydecker, it had taken him almost forty-five minuets and the rescheduling of the board meeting he was supposed to be attending, for Logan to finally reach the man he was looking for. Once he'd spoken to him, Logan requested a meeting instead of speaking over the phone. When Lydecker had asked about what, he's merely spoken two words before Lydecker had agreed to the meeting. Human Prototypes.
So here he was, approaching the bench where he was supposed to meet Lydecker. There was a tall dark looking man sitting at the bench.
Logan approached quickly, stepping up next to the man as he pushed his hands into the pockets of the trench coat he wore over a dark suit. "Could I bother you for the time, sir." Logan asked politely.
The man turned to study him. "You Cale?" He asked briskly.
"That's me. You Lydecker."
Before the man said a word, a soldier dressed in full TAC uniform struck Logan over the back of the head with the butt of a gun.
In a very quick and efficient manner, Logan's unconscious body was bound and a cover pulled over his head as they loaded him into the back of a dark unmarked van that had pulled up to the curb a moment before.
Tires squealed as the van tore away from the curb and down the street.
Logan sat in his office, his back to his desk as he stared distractedly out of the window that looked over the Seattle skyline. Behind him, various papers were scattered across his desk, a small laptop sat humming quietly, and a mug of untouched coffee sat untouched.
It had been a little over a week since Phillip's birthday party where he'd witnesses the amazing acts of that mystery woman. The mystery woman he couldn't seem to get out of him mind. Right now, he was supposed to be reviewing the distribution reports for the board meeting that afternoon with the shareholders, but instead, he was staring out his window, wondering how the hell a five seven woman beat the crap out of not only him, at six foot three, plus six security guards all at least six inches taller than her and most of which twice her size, and managed to look damn sexy in the process. And then after that, she jumped out of a second story window without a second thought.
Logan sat pondering this for a few more moments before he heard the door open behind him. "Hey Kat." He said, not even turning to make sure it really was her.
"Mr. Cale." He heard her soft, kind voice from behind him, and he smiled. Spinning on the wheels of his leather computer chair, he turned to face Kat, who was standing in front of the desk, placing a small pile of papers in the center of the desk. "If you could sign those, I can send them out this afternoon."
"Sure." Logan said as he slid the papers closer to him and grabbed a pen out of the Lucite holder at the corner of his desk.
While Logan went through each paper, Kat went around the room and maternally straightened up the piles of folders, gathered the empty coffee mugs that were all over the room, and then stood to wait while Logan signed the memos.
Kat studied him, the way he insisted on reading each and every word of each and every memo even though they were the ones he wrote yesterday himself. His hair was a mess, spiking each and every way with tracts through it where his fingers had run through, which she knew was habit whenever he was writing something. He'd been working his ass off for two weeks straight, having gone from Seattle to Chicago and back to Seattle again in the course of one week, getting attacked at his godfather's birthday party, and now had less than two days to finalize next month's issue of 'The Reality'.
"I don't know how you do it." Kat said somewhat exasperated.
Logan looked up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Do what."
"You have probably gotten all of twelve hours of sleep in the past week, and you are here, not complaining in the least."
Logan laughed. "I guess it is in the genes. My dad was a workaholic too. I…" He trailed off as he stared blankly ahead for a moment. "That's it." He whispered.
"Huh?" Kat asked perplexed. "What?"
Logan grinned up at her boyishly. He quickly scrawled his signature on the last of the memos and handed them to her even as he turned to tap a key on his laptop to unlock the screensaver.
Kat barely noticed the sudden change in pace for Logan, as was another habit of his. Some random inspiration would hit him and he would jump head first into whatever it was, whether it was writing a controversial editorial, or searching for a hard to find doll to add to his beloved nieces collection.
"Call me if you need anything, Mr. Cale." Kat said, which was probably lost on Logan as his fingers were rapidly flying over the keys, his brow furrowed as he stared intently on the screen in front of him.
"That's it." Logan muttered under his breath as he pulled up an Internet search engine.
The only possible way that that tiny woman had pulled off what she did was if she was enhanced. Sure, he'd heard the old urban legends when he'd been in high school about the soldiers that had been trained from birth to kill, and these children having super human powers. But that's all they were, urban legends.
But the concept of genetic engineering was far from being an urban legend. Before the Pulse, genetic engineering had been one of the fastest growing fields in medicine, with some of the most successful treatments and preventions of cancer and leukemia coming from the works of geneticists.
Logan watched the cursor blink in the search bar, wondering where he should start. Deciding that he had nowhere to look but the obvious.
gene therapy
Logan hit the search key, and waited.
Over 8745 matches.
Logan sighed as he clicked on the first match. It was going to be a long morning.
After several hours of searching, note taking, and dead end phone calls, Logan was quickly becoming frustrated. There was absolutely no evidence of any sort of gene therapy, genetic engineering, or anything close to a description of what he had witnessed in Phillip's office a couple days ago.
After spending twenty minuets on hold with a idiot doctor who not only had no idea what Logan was talking about, most of the time he hadn't know what he was talking about himself, Logan decided that he was dedicating five more minuets to this and if he didn't find anything, it was time to move on.
Picking his last website, Logan clicked on the link.
Expert Speaks on Genetic Engineering at the University of California
Logan sat back as the page loaded, pulling his glasses off his face and scrubbed his fingers over his eyes in frustration.
As he read the article, Logan's eyes widened. "Oh my god." He muttered.
He reached over and hit the intercom and stabbed the button with a finger as he picked up his pen and started to scribble furiously on the pad of paper in front of him.
"Kat, I need you to track down a number for me. Last name Lydecker. Donald Lydecker."
Two days later, Logan walked down the Klein Street; warily approaching the park bench Lydecker had directed him too. Then man had been extraordinarily creepy, in Logan's opinion.
When Kat had finally traced down a Colonel Donald Lydecker, now stationed at a Sedro Island, eighty miles south of Seattle, Logan had spent twenty minuets gathering all the information he could on the man before he'd made any calls at all.
His main question was, why was an expert on genetic engineering stationed at a SAC Air Force Base?
After he'd placed the call to Lydecker, it had taken him almost forty-five minuets and the rescheduling of the board meeting he was supposed to be attending, for Logan to finally reach the man he was looking for. Once he'd spoken to him, Logan requested a meeting instead of speaking over the phone. When Lydecker had asked about what, he's merely spoken two words before Lydecker had agreed to the meeting. Human Prototypes.
So here he was, approaching the bench where he was supposed to meet Lydecker. There was a tall dark looking man sitting at the bench.
Logan approached quickly, stepping up next to the man as he pushed his hands into the pockets of the trench coat he wore over a dark suit. "Could I bother you for the time, sir." Logan asked politely.
The man turned to study him. "You Cale?" He asked briskly.
"That's me. You Lydecker."
Before the man said a word, a soldier dressed in full TAC uniform struck Logan over the back of the head with the butt of a gun.
In a very quick and efficient manner, Logan's unconscious body was bound and a cover pulled over his head as they loaded him into the back of a dark unmarked van that had pulled up to the curb a moment before.
Tires squealed as the van tore away from the curb and down the street.
