Waiting in the Shadows (16 page)

After putting the phone down, she sat for a few moments looking at the piece of paper where she had written Vincent Craig's email address. It was strange to think that he had actually given it to her.

She turned to the computer and opened her own email address. She pressed ‘new' and looked at the blank page before her. What could she tell him? Where would she start?

Dear Vincent,

She began, then started again:

Dear Mr Craig,

I am pleased you want to get in touch with me. I will tell you something about myself.

I am now called Celia, although my original Lab code is Sel.

I live and work at the Centre, with other Labs and Non-Labs. My role is in administration, mainly computer-based. In my free time I enjoy sports.

I am looking forward to learning more about yourself and your family.

Yours, Celia

She reread it several times, and then pressed ‘send'. Within an hour she excitedly opened a reply.

My dear Celia,

It was so good to receive your email!

My work is computer-based too; I design anti-virus software for businesses and industries.

I am divorced, but remain on good terms with my ex-wife, who is happily remarried and has two boys.

I am disabled, so I don't get to do regular sports, but I follow my own keep fit programme with a very bossy personal trainer!

Yours, Vincent

Chapter Nineteen

He read the news story of the Lab/Non-Lab baby.

‘Further contamination!' He threw the paper to the floor.

She picked it up. ‘If this baby is healthy, to Non-Lab standards; it could be the first of many Lab/Non-Lab offspring.'

‘We must put our plan into action as soon as possible!' he said. ‘There is no time to waste!'

A figure stepped out of the shadows as Baxman opened his car door.

‘Mr Baxman! Can I have a word with you for a moment, sir?'

Baxman glanced up. A look of annoyance passed over his face as he saw the young man standing in front of him.

‘What is it? Better be quick, I'm in a hurry!' he answered curtly.

‘I can sense your disappointment that the Centre is to close,' he said. ‘I also know that it may not be long before a serious case will be made against you as chief administrator of this establishment.'

Baxman looked up at him.

‘What the devil are you talking about? My lawyer has made it perfectly clear that I am no way implicated in the medical developments of the Centre! Sven was solely responsible for things on the medical side. My role was purely as administrator on the financial side!' Baxman made to get into his car, but the younger man stepped forward and put his hand on the door.

‘According to video footage of conversations between yourself and Mr Sven, you were clearly aware of the extent of the developments in the Centre. The Labs have handed them over to the police.'

‘How do you know this?' Baxman's eyes narrowed. ‘What do you want with me?'

‘I mean you no harm, Mr Baxman. I am also saddened to see the end of the research you have achieved at the Centre,' the young man raised his hands, ‘after all, you gave me – gave all Labs – life!'

‘You are a Lab?' his expression changed and he nodded vigorously, ‘Indeed we did! Indeed we did! I wish just there were more people who could see things as you do, young man!'

‘Neither you nor I, nor Mr Sven, wish to see the abandonment of such advanced research, Mr Baxman. Surely the continuation of such work could only be of benefit to both your people and mine. With Sven's scientific knowledge, your contacts and my knowledge of … other areas … we could go far!' The young man looked questioningly at him.

Baxman sighed, ‘Now that the police are involved there wouldn't be a chance. And if Sven is arrested – And I myself may be wrongly accused …'

‘We probably have about twenty-four hours to remove you and Sven from this unpleasant situation, Mr Baxman,' the man continued.

Baxman threw up his hands, ‘My passport has been taken; I am forced to sign in at the local police station daily, like a common criminal; Sven is under house surveillance – what can we do at this stage?'

‘You can trust me to supply the necessary documentation and travel arrangements, Mr Baxman, for yourself and Mr Sven. I believe you had a phone conversation with a former client who expressed his sadness on hearing of the closure of the Centre. He remarked that if it had been set up in his own country, where people of your calibre were appreciated, this would not have happened.'

‘You listened to my phone conversations?' Baxman spluttered. He took a deep breath. ‘But you're right. The gentleman did express an interest in establishing a medical research centre in his own country. But how …?'

The young man handed him a mobile phone.

‘Call him on this. You will find his name in the contacts list. And also mine. Tell him we will be there tomorrow evening, on this flight, under these names,' he handed him a slip of paper. ‘Do you know the Express Hotel off the boundary road? I will meet you there at six o'clock tomorrow evening. Sven will be with me.' He turned to leave. ‘Make sure you are not followed.'

‘Mr …' Baxman began, looking down at the slip of paper, ‘Vlensky. How do I know you are not setting me up? How come you want to get involved in all this? I mean, the other … Labs are baying for our blood!'

‘Money, Mr Baxman! I wish to make enough money to lead the life I choose for myself! I do not wish another … person, of any background, to dictate what kind of life I am entitled to!'

Baxman began to laugh.

‘You're an intelligent young man!'

‘I know, Mr Baxman, I know,' he replied.

Two days later the four men sat together around a low table. Their host raised a glass and smiled.

‘To the success of our new venture, gentlemen!'

The three others murmured their agreement.

‘I must admit, Mr Vlensky, I did have my doubts about your ability to outsmart the British police and to get these two men here, and so quickly!' their host continued.

‘Luckily for me, the British police also underestimated my abilities,' Vlensky replied.

Baxman picked up the photographs on the table in front of him.

‘The sooner we get down to work the better. This site seems ideal. You have thought of everything!'

He smiled and inclined his head then turned to the scientist, ‘Mr Sven, what is your opinion?'

The old man shook his head, ‘I leave that to the others. Baxman has a list of my requirements. I would appreciate the use of the computer with the given specifications as soon as possible. And a fully equipped laboratory.'

‘Of course, Mr Sven,' the man replied. He pushed a button on his desk and a young man entered. ‘Al, arrange for a car to be sent immediately. I am taking the gentlemen to look over the complex.'

The young man gave a bow as he took the paper and left.

Half an hour later the men stood in the entrance hall of a large glass-fronted building. Outside, the sun beat down; inside the lightly tinted glass the air conditioning kept the temperature at an agreeable level.

‘Isn't it a little over-exposed?' Baxman looked around him.

‘We hoped that by providing an open, welcoming reception area, we would give our clients a sense of security. We do not want our medical research to be in any way associated with the work that has caused so much controversy in the UK,' he explained. ‘This way, gentlemen.'

They entered a lift. Their host pushed a button.

‘There are three floors; on the ground floor we propose to accommodate the administration offices. Here we are at the first floor,' the doors opened and they stepped out onto an expensive thick-pile carpet. ‘This floor would be where initial medical tests are carried out, DNA samples taken etc., as you did at the Centre.'

He pushed open a door to a large, carpeted room. Near the window side was a leather-topped desk with oversized comfortable chairs on either side. On the other side a screen was pulled back to reveal a couch.

‘Whatever equipment you request will be installed as soon as possible,' he said as they viewed three more similar rooms.

Baxman pulled out a file from his briefcase.

‘I've details of the equipment we had at the Centre. Sven has amended the file and added any updates.'

‘Of course, Mr Baxman. We have an extensive budget for the initial outlay,' he smiled. ‘I already have a list of customers who are interested, especially on the cosmetic side. Their dream of eternal youth seems to have become possible!'

‘At a price!' Baxman laughed.

‘What price can you put on eternal youth, Mr Baxman?' the other man smiled.

Soon they were being shown around the second floor.

‘The layout is pretty much the same on each floor. This floor will hold the operating theatres and recovery wards.'

‘This way, gentlemen,' their host smiled again. He led them along a corridor and into a small security office. In front of them were several screens showing different views inside and outside the building.

‘There are five more security offices, very similar to this one; but this particular office will be manned by selected staff.'

He stepped up to one of the floor-length windows and pushed a button, and the window drew back to reveal a lift. He gestured for the three men to follow him. The door slid shut behind them.

‘On all the cameras, that lift appears only as a window looking out on to the grounds,' he said as he stepped out of the lift. They had emerged into a clearing behind the building. A small electric vehicle was waiting for them. After a ten-minute ride, they were led up a narrow staircase into the ground floor of what appeared to be a hotel.

‘We hoped to learn from … the challenges … you faced in your country!' he explained.

A bell boy stepped forward and bowed.

‘Welcome, gentlemen. This way.'

They were taken to an elegantly furnished office. A smartly dressed waiter appeared with a tray. Their host sat in front of a computer screen.

‘This entire building will accommodate the development wards.'

They looked at images of the hotel floors, showing wards set out much the same as they had been at the Centre.

‘Of course, we do not have any of the capsules you will need at present. The images are based on information from the UK television stories,' he said. ‘Again, you only need to present your specifications and we will employ a qualified team to create the required capsules here in this building, in the basement.' He brought up a camera shot of the basement area.

Baxman shook his head, ‘I can't believe all this! But how come you have all this available?'

He shrugged, ‘Since I realised the full extent of your … research … in the UK, I knew it would not be long before the unimaginative, restrictive laws of your country would put a stop to such valuable work. I had begun to plan Laqaar Medicentre several years ago, and was hoping to make enquires about expanding your research when Medicfrontier beat me to it! But, once the Centre was closed down I knew it was only a matter of time before I would hear from someone. That is why I phoned you – to let you know there was a new pathway open to you!'

‘And here it is!'

‘Indeed, here it is, Mr Vlensky! Here it is!' the man agreed.

‘So, when am I going to get to see this wonderful new Centre?' she asked him.

His eyes shone, ‘There are one or two details that need attending to, but it will be soon, very soon!'

‘Oh –' she began, but he pressed a finger to her lips before she could say his name.

‘Vlensky! You must call me by this name all the time, when we are with the new team. And you are …?'

‘Lena,' she nodded. ‘You are right, we must get used to our new names! But when we are here, amongst other Labs, we must remember to use our given names for this country. ‘

‘Hopefully we will not have to spend too much time here. Make sure you have an acceptable story to justify your absences over the next few weeks,' he added. ‘We do not want anyone associating us with any forthcoming events. Especially when the twin female and male Labs go missing.'

She shifted in her chair, ‘Is it really necessary to involve these Labs?'

He patted her hand, ‘Why are you worrying? We are going to create a
perfect
race. These Labs are lucky to be selected. They will benefit from our investigations!'

She smiled, ‘I am being silly. Of course you would not allow harm to come to another Lab! We must keep a careful eye on Sven and Mr Baxman. They would not feel so concerned!'

‘They will not be involved in this side of our work. I have suitable twins in mind already. One male and one female are to be the controls while we enhance the abilities of the second one,' his eyes lit up and he squeezed her hands. ‘Just think of the new race of Labs we will create! They will be perfect! They – 
we
 – will rule the world!'

‘And none of the Non-Labs involved are aware of our plans?' she asked.

‘Not at all! I have carefully selected our staff and the individual duties they are to perform. Sven is happy as long as he is in his laboratory. We can even allow him to create a few substandard Labs! Baxman and Maher are happy predicting profits. Before anyone even begins to suspect anything, it will be too late. The future is ours!'