Two more stumbling blocks remained before the cure could be formulated and distributed: First, they needed access to the mother cell locked away in the lab of the authorities. Second, they would need to ascertain the most viable delivery method.
During their time at sea, Jackson had posited to the group his idea about mosquitos. Mitch had reservations about the plan, but decided first things should come first. He needed to have the cure before he would worry about what to do with it.
Chloe and Jackson currently had the unenviable task of convincing the powers that be to allow them to borrow the mother cell, or at least part of it. Failing that, the team would be forced to steal it, either from the government or from Reiden. After all, if Reiden had two they likely had more. Probably one large one from which they cut the smaller chunks, Mitch figured.
It was funny how they had assumed that Reiden had sought the stolen mother cell because it was the only one they had. Now Mitch knew that the true motive had been more sinister than he'd imagined—they had plenty of mother cell. They wanted Leo Butler's returned because of its evidentiary potential.
Some of those weeks he'd spent sitting on the barstool had been used for contemplation. As much as he had wanted to forget all of it, the scientist in him needed answers. Why had Reiden Global assembled the team in the first place? What is to find any evidence so that it, and they, could be destroyed? If so, then Mitch had played right into their hands by insisting that Jamie be included as well. Perhaps they truly wanted him to synthesize a cure that they could then hijack, discarding him and the others like so much excess baggage. Then they could solve the problem, erase the evidence and play the heroes. He had pondered Gaspard "Mystery Man In A Very Nice Suit Who Knows Things" Alves. How did Alves know so much about them, anyway? Sure, the demographic and biographic information were easy enough to obtain, but how did he know about Mitch's theories? Or where they would be that day?
And now here he sat, still without answers, attempting to obtain the mother cell. Again. At least he had Jamie. And he knew no matter how frustrated or discouraged he may become, she would never, ever let him give up. Truth be told, as long as he had her, he would never, ever want to give up.
The makeshift lab was ready to go, complete with an electroporator he, er, borrowed with his friend's access code. While the zoo was closed, it wouldn't be missed. Either that, or he was soon to have another ex-friend. All they needed now was the mother cell in order to begin the procedure.
Now that he was in hurry-up-and-wait mode, he decided to use his time to help Jamie sort though the volumes of data obtained from the flash drive. He made his way to the living room where she studied the computer screen. Peering over her shoulder, he asked "What exactly are we looking for?"
"Anything," she answered. "Anything that looks familiar, like something we've dealt with. Anything that seems out of place, incongruous. Right now I'm specifically scanning for any Intel they had on us."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"Maybe," she pushed the laptop aside and picked up Hartley's bible. "What do you suppose he meant about Jackson's dad?"
"What?"
"Hartley. At the optometrist's office, when Jackson asked him how he knew his father, he said 'your father did this to me.' Presuming meaning afflicted him with the mutation somehow. But how? And why? What do you think he meant?"
"Jackson has all his father's papers."
"Oh my god, he's been over them all backwards and forwards. You've looked at them, too. So have I. We did find anything."
"When I looked at them, I'd never heard of Evan Lee Hartley. I disregarded what seemed like gibberish." Mitch winced at his own use of the derogatory term, but it was a fair representation of how he had felt at the time. "I wish I'd paid more attention to it now."
"I never realized until after the crash," he began, "how similar your stories are—you and Robert Oz."
She stared intently at him. Where was he going with this?
"He was passionate about what he believed. He tried his damnedest to warn humanity. Yet everyone, myself included, discounted him, derided him, wrote him off as a nut job. And, as it turns out, he was totally, completely, one hundred percent right. We've proven it. He died before he could be vindicated. It cost him everything."
"It nearly destroyed me when I thought the same fate befell you." He pulled off his glasses and ran his hand from his forehead to his chin. "Make sure he gets his due, ok?"
"Of course," she nodded.
Jamie decided to lighten the mood a bit. "So you're saying I was…?"
Mitch rolled his eyes playfully. "…Driven? Tenacious? Persistent? Determined?"
"Keep going, Roget."
"Ok, right. Yes, you were right. Sooooo incredibly right. Would you like me to have it tattooed on the body part of your choice?"
"No, that's ok," she laughed.
"Good. 'Cause I'm not gonna do that."
"The Hartley-Oz connection is a loose end. I'd really like the answer, but I don't know if we'll ever find it." Something on the computer screen caught her eye."Well, if you wanna look here while I…wait—what is this?"
Mitch stared, waiting for her to elaborate.
"How, how did they know this?!"
"Know what, exactly?"
"Here…here!" she pointed. She read from the report, "'Dr. Morgan theorizes that the lions responded to the cub's distress, which would require not only the ability to communicate but to do so across a long distance.'"
She glanced up to see his quizzical expression. "Mitch, this entry is from July 7th. We told Senator Vaughn on July 11th, and it was weeks later before we told anyone else."
He sat beside her. "Alves knew it, too."
"But how? I mean obviously he got it from Reiden, but how did they know?"
"Keep looking. What else did they—" Mitch was interrupted by the ring of his phone. He removed it from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. "Chloe."
"Hey, Chloe. What's up?"
After a short conversation he set the phone on the coffee table.
"Well, Sage says no go on the mother cell without a better explanation for why we want it."
"Damnit, I'd really like to talk to her." Jamie lamented. This "gotta stay dead" thing had some definite disadvantages.
"If anyone could talk her into it, you could," Mitch agreed. "But, no. Let's let Chloe keep trying while we figure out where we need to go from here."
She closed the lap top. "What we need is meat. We're almost out of beef. I can't believe how much he eats. We have enough for about another day and a half. And the farm I got the last slab from is out, so we have to find a new supplier."
The problem was that since the animals spiraled out of control, the supply and the demand for beef had greatly decreased. Most domestic animals, including livestock, had been ordered to quarantine centers. Why would farmers withstand the risk and difficulty of keeping cattle if no one was eating beef, anyway? To further complicate the issue, the meat must be organically grown. They couldn't chance the possibility that a pesticide contaminated with the mother cell had been used.
"Any ideas?"
"I have a few numbers to try. But it's gonna be pricey."
"Color me shocked." Though Mitch would not admit it yet, finances were beginning get sticky. He and Jamie were both unemployed, as was Jackson. Abe had a job with a modest yet unpredictable income. Chloe had steady income, but she was the only one. Basically, anything the team needed was coming out of the savings of Mitch and Chloe. And while Mitch couldn't speak for the Frenchwoman, on his end he knew the well would eventually run dry.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Mitch…" Jamie called from the master bedroom. "You have to see this."
He followed her voice into the room and found her peering out the window into the yard. He grimaced at what he saw.
Three massive lowland gorillas and four orangutans stood side by side just twenty feet away. Mitch felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"So I guess I'm not going out for the beef right now."
"Uh, no," he answered, suddenly wondering about the relative strength of the home's windows and doors. Or for that matter, he supposed, walls.
As if reading his mind, she wondered aloud, "Maybe we should fence the entire property? Not just the leopard enclosure."
"It would take one hell of a fence to keep them out," he said grimly. His mind flashed back to 'The Murders In the Rue Morgue'. Damn, that crazy Poe knew what he was talking about.
"What should we do?"
"Don't confront them. Don't make eye contact. Hopefully they'll try to find an easier target somewhere else."
"And if they don't?"
"If those are the only ones then we can get out the front to the car." He tried to sound more calm than he felt. "Stay here. I'm going to check the other windows."
He had reservations about separating, especially in a dangerous situation, but he needed to know whether they were surrounded. As long as the animals could see Jamie, maybe they wouldn't feel the need to split up and encircle the house.
Satisfied that the seven in view were all there were, he returned to her side. At least they had a viable escape route should the apes decide to charge. The three month long hell was fresh in his mind; he didn't want to let her out of his sight.
"I'm telling myself it's coincidence," she said, " that they've avoided touching any of the places that would trip the alarm."
Mitch nodded. "Let's go with that."
As mysteriously as they appeared, the apes turned and walked away from the house, fading back into the woods.
"Why are they leaving?" Jamie wondered aloud.
What should have brought relief instead brought a generalized pervasive uneasiness. "I don't know."
For now, the threat was gone. It wouldn't be long, though, before the animals got to each and every person he loved. They had to get that mother cell now.