The Return of the Watchers (Armageddon Rising Book 1) (3 page)

              Yuki was beginning to wonder if this wasn’t an elaborate joke that everyone in the lab and her family was in on.                                                        “So why is it I bothered to call you when we have this amazing discovery of monumental significance?” Dantanian inquired.                             The saving grace to this absurdity, she reminded herself, was that she might get paid for listening, though by this point she was beginning to doubt it.                                                                                                                               “As it stands, several weeks ago, someone broke into our lab and stole the sample we had procured, along with our research data-- basically everything pertaining to this. Believe me when I say that we have tight security at the lab I am funding, and yet somehow, someone managed to get in there.”                                                                                                                              “So, then, you want me to find out where Dr. Lystad obtained it, or if he has more of it? Is that what you're asking me? Why not just go directly to him yourself?”                                                                                    

              He furrowed his brow as if to say ‘Do you think I’m that stupid?’               “Miss Yuki,” he said slowly, closing his eyes then opening them to look directly in hers,  “At first we did try to contact him with an offer, and he outright refused; in fact he denied ever having placed any such sample in the cooler at Primase. Unfortunately, the security footage in our lab had some strange disturbance, so we couldn’t identify who might have stolen the sample from us. The management at Primase assures me that no such sample currently remains, and there are no other researchers who would have used that particular cooler other than Dr. Lystad.”                                           “So you only had a small amount from the beginning? Why didn’t you at least replicate the code and send it elsewhere?” she asked.                           

              “The code,” April interjected, “was unlike anything our researchers had ever seen. It was very difficult to replicate with accuracy, and the sample was getting smaller and smaller with each failure.”                                           “There is no doubt Dr. Lystad knows about the blood, its origins and how significant it is, I’m sure of it,” Dantanian said. “All I’m asking of you, Miss Yuki, is that you watch him closely and see if he's conducting any strange experiments or doing anything else out of the ordinary. Certainly a sample or a source would be an ideal outcome; we can also use any data that he may have.”                                                                       She felt heat rising in her face at the thought of spying on Dorian. Certainly Dantanian had reason for divulging so much information to her about the nature of this blood; you don’t become a multi-billionaire by making a habit of tipping your hand to your opponent. Noticing the hostile look she gave him, he approached from another angle.                                           “I think we can both profit from this arrangement.” A cunning look crept up on his face; the way a cutthroat would appear as he patted you on the back with one hand and readied the dagger in the other.                                           “I know for a fact that there are negotiations for the takeover of Sukekuni Corporation. Of course such a maneuver would have to be approved by the board; however, I am aware that your father had to sell quite a few of his shares in the past, so that he now finds himself in the unfortunate position of having significantly less than a majority stake.”               This was a soft spot for Yuki. Her father was still CEO and ran the company, but the board of directors were becoming impatient with him. Her family was the single largest shareholder; however, they did not have controlling majority, making them subject to the whims of the other board members.                                                                                                                              “I may be able to save his company and give back majority control to your father. Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, an offer that sounded too good to be true. Shake the family tree and collect the low hanging fruit; a strategy that seemed simple enough, except he wasn't expecting the fruit to be a nut, and a terribly hard one to crack at that.

              Yuki got up and bowed her head towards the two in a polite manner.                                                                                                                               “I apologize that I will be unable to assist you in achieving your goal. I am sorry to have wasted your time. I would like to leave now,” she said, trying hard not to make eye contact.                                                                       He sighed aloud and gave her a cold stare of disgust.                              “How disappointing. Very well, we’re through here for now. I’m certain your father may have something to say about this. Give him my regards.”                                                       

              At that, Yuki bowed again and turned towards the exit. Dantanian’s bodyguards looked at him like a pair of Doberman pincers, as if to ask ‘do you want us to tear her to pieces?’ He waved his hand and shook his head, declining their unspoken offer.                                                         “Was it wise to divulge so much to her, Mr. Dantanian?” April asked in a tone of disapproval.                                                                                     “Who is she going to tell?” he asked in a slightly raised voice. “If she talks to anyone in her profession, they’ll most likely dismiss her as a fool or a liar. We have to be careful to a certain extent, yes, but I know Lystad has someone helping him. I'm not certain who they are or if they are working together; however, I would rather try this approach after the failure Evans had. Wouldn't want to disappoint the master like he did, eh?”                                                                                                                              

              “Poor Evans. The fool,” April replied.

              The driver was waiting outside in a secured lot across the street and saw Yuki come out of the building. He honked and waved at her, then pulled up alongside the curb where she stood and got out to open the door.               “Done already? That was a fast dinner. Where would you like to go, miss?” he asked.                                                                                                                 “Um, back to the airport, please.” She was still hot under the collar and needed to cool off a bit.                                                                                                   “I’ll take the scenic route for you unless you are in a hurry; no sense letting a visit to New York go to waste,” he said with a smile.              At this point Yuki’s thoughts were swirling through her head. She didn’t know what to make of all this; the veiled threat of a possible takeover of the family business and the strange blood sample Dorian might or might not have had. She calculated that Dantanian was most likely not given to flights of fantasy, and must therefore be some truth to his grandiose claims about the nature of the sample. It remained to be seen as to whether Dorian was playing a part in whatever was going on. If he was, why would he hide such a thing, something that could save so many lives? Who stole the blood from Dantanian, and what information was Dantanian hiding? The other question plaguing her was how was she going to explain this to her father? Despite her skepticism, she felt a bit hurt for not being trustworthy enough for Dorian to share this with her.                Cracking the window in the back of the limousine, she let the icy air hit her face to drown out the numbness in her head. The driver made it to the airport a bit earlier than she had hoped. She used the extra time to research some of the information about Dantanian's story.                                           When the plane touched down in Michigan, there was a sense of relief to be back. The last vestiges of daylight slipped away to night as the shuttle bus took her to the short term parking lot where her car was parked.              

              It was about the mid-way point in her trek back to her apartment when she observed
that
a white van had been following her for some time. It was too dark to make out who was in the vehicle. Thinking that it wouldn’t be a good idea to lead a potential axe murderer to where she lived, she decided to get off the highway at an earlier exit. After taking some turns down different streets the coincidences proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was indeed being followed. Now, with her heart beating hard in her chest, she reached for her cell phone and tried to call Dorian for help. She found herself driving in unfamiliar territory and lost her way. Since her cell phone was also her GPS, she wasn't able to talk to him and get directions at the same time without stopping to figure out how to do it.                                                                                                                 A light on her instrument panel came on indicating critically low fuel. The process of simultaneously Dialing Dorian, checking her rear view mirror and looking for a gas station distracted her enough that she failed to notice the red traffic light as she passed through it.                             This got the attention of the Ypsilanti Police, who were parked at a convenience store on a street corner, patiently waiting like a spider for its prey.
The driver of the
white van, seeing that she was about to get stopped, wisely made a right turn down another street.

              The police quickly pulled right behind Yuki’s vehicle, flashing their lights and letting her know she had to pull over. Driving to a nearby gas station, she parked off to the side, frantically unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door while the officer was looking up her license plate. The slippery ground did not prevent her from running towards the officer, waving her hands in desperation.                                                                                     “Get back in your car!” the officer shouted through his loudspeaker.                                                                                                                                Tears welled up in her eyes as she did as she was ordered. At this point Yuki was starving and exhausted; her bladder was the size of a basketball, and she began hyperventilating. A few minutes later another police car showed up to back up the first. A large, burly female officer got out. Both police officers headed up to Yuki’s vehicle, flashlights blazing and their hands on their firearms.                                                                                     “Can it get any worse than this?” she thought..                                           “Do you know why you were stopped?” the police officer asked. Famous words to which there are no correct answers.                                           Yuki just looked scared and shook her head. “I need your driver’s license, registration and proof of insurance,” the male officer ordered.              “Please, can you help me? I was being followed by someone in a van. A white van!” she begged, her voice straining under the stress. Tears were streaking down her face when she heard her cell phone go off. It was Dorian. She tried to take the call but the female officer demanded she put the phone down.                                                                                                                The corporate police, many who lacked empathy of any kind, often harassed, instigated and escalated encounters with the people they stopped, especially the homeless, in an effort to either arrest them or take their anger and frustrations out on them. Savage beatings and outright murder were not uncommon on any given day across the country, even against people calling for help. Crime had increased so much that everyone was looked at with suspicion and disgust. Many people fought back with demonstrations, and retaliations, which often led to rioting. Even with public outcry, the system protected its own interests.                            After Yuki had presented all the necessary documents, and the police officers had finished searching her and her vehicle for contraband, it seemed like an eternity for judgment to be handed down. She received a ticket for running the light, and they took a statement regarding the van that followed her.                                                                                                                 The driver’s door window had been down for so long her teeth were chattering. Right now all she wanted to do was use the bathroom at the gas station, which unfortunately, had closed while she was being interrogated by the police. Not to mention she was also shaking from hunger since she hadn't touched the food at the luncheon/dinner meeting.              Her cell phone rang again. She quickly checked; it was Dorian calling her back again. “
Yattah
!” she shouted in a crazed voice, which is the Japanese way of saying 'I did it!'

              “Yuki, is everything all right? You sounded upset on the phone and then you hung up on me,” he said.                                                                                     “Please come get me, help me!” she sobbed.                                          

              “Okay, no problem, where are you?” he asked in a calm, soothing tone.                                                                                                                                             “At a gas station called Marathon on Michigan Avenue. There is no other sign.”                                                                                                                 “That’s a pretty long road, can you narrow it down a bit for me?” he asked, trying not to upset her.

              “One second.” A group of people on the corner were holding signs and warming themselves over an oil drum that had a fire going. She darted over to get an answer.