Authors: Richard Parry
“You’re not ugly, love.
You’re beautiful.”
“I don’t have any hair!
Angelina had beautiful hair.”
“Hm.”
Elsie thought for a moment.
“You know, I don’t think she does.”
“What?
How can you say that, Mom?
Her hair is gorgeous.”
Elsie held up a gloved hand.
Definitely a Care Bear.
“I agree, she looks gorgeous.
I don’t think it’s her hair.”
“How come?”
“Hollywood.”
Elsie gestured at the television.
“It’s all fake.
I’ll bet it was a wig.”
“Wigs don’t look like that!”
“Well, what do they look like?”
“They’re,” and Birkita gestured at her head, “For old people!”
“I have an idea.
Why don’t I get you a wig?”
“I don’t want to look old.”
“You won’t look old.
You’ll look gorgeous.
More gorgeous.
Like Angelina.”
Birkita’s look was skeptical.
“I don’t want it curly or anything.”
“It won’t be curly or anything.
If I get you a wig, will you meet your new friend?”
Elsie looked at the bandana in Birkita’s hands.
“I expect it’ll make you look even better than her.
She only has ordinary hair.
It won’t be Hollywood hair.”
“I guess that would be ok.”
Birkita shrugged.
“What’s her name?”
“Adalia.”
Elsie smiled.
“And she’s going to help us get our new man here.”
☽ ◇ ☾
“I want her fired.”
Elsie looked the head of staff in the eye.
“I don’t care what her excuse is.
No one says my daughter is going to die.”
“Ms. Morgan.
Uh.
The truth is —”
“The truth?”
Elsie stared the man down.
“The truth is she’s not going to die.
I appreciate we’re on a clock, but we’ve got it in hand.”
The head of staff shuffled his feet.
“I’ll make sure she’s dismissed.”
“You’re skeptical.”
“Ms. Morgan, your daughter’s tumours have metastasised.
She’s immunocompromised.
The odds of a recovery — well.
As part of your medical staff, I can’t lie to you.
The odds aren’t good.”
“I’m not playing the odds.”
Elsie crossed her arms.
“I’m not
playing
.
This is my daughter’s life!
And she will not
die.
Now get out of here and do your job.”
The man shuffled out.
Sam Barnes watched him go.
“We could replace him as well.”
“What?
Oh.
No.”
Elsie fiddled with the pen in front of her.
“He’s trying to do his job.
And he’s one of the best.
We made sure of that.”
“Yes.”
Barnes checked the schedule laid out in front of him.
“Would you like me to send in Spencer?”
“Please.”
Elsie turned the chair back and forth.
Visits to her daughter always left her distracted.
What was the point of owning one of the world’s most successful — and wealthy — pharmaceutical companies if she couldn’t help her own daughter?
Spencer walked in.
“Ma’am.
We have a partial success.”
“How so?”
“We have the sample.”
Spencer nodded at Barnes.
“Sam’s been quite an asset in helping set this up.
He deserves much of the credit.”
Elsie looked up at Barnes.
“Yes.
He’s very… thoughtful.
Sam, what has the biopsy given us?”
Barnes didn’t look down at his notes.
“It’s a virus, like we thought.
This one’s got viable DNA, and we’re trying to replicate it.
It’s a tricky little monster though.”
“Can you do it?”
Barnes sighed.
“My recommendation would be to continue to track down either Volk or Everard.
The captain indicated in his report that Volk was injured, so we’ve got the word out to our affiliates — healthcare, hospitals, the usual — for a man matching his description.”
Spencer nodded.
“It makes sense.
No bites yet, but we’ll keep an eye out.
You wanted to see me about something else?”
Elsie flipped through the papers in front of her.
“Captain, you mentioned that Mr. Everard had some companions with him.”
“That’s right.
A man and a woman.
They wouldn’t give their names.”
“Yes, of course.
As Sam said, we have affiliate — healthcare, hospitals.
In this case, the hospital that you, ah, engaged in your recent operation was one of our subsidiaries.”
“I’m sorry ma’am.
The damages —”
Elsie waved a hand.
“The damages are inconsequential.
Some reparations to families of the deceased is likely.
Nothing we haven’t anticipated.”
Elsie found the photos she was looking for.
“Here we are.
Are these people familiar?”
Spencer took the two stills, a couple of grainy shots taken from overhead.
“You got these from security CCTV?”
“Yes.”
“They’re the ones.”
Spencer tapped the picture of the woman.
“If I remember correctly, this one was a bit spicy.”
“Spicy?”
“Not many civilians keep their wits about them when looking down the barrel of a gun.”
“Details, Captain Spencer.
I don’t want the details.
Barnes has done some looking into the two of them.
The man is useless to us.
A nobody.
Works locally in the city.”
“No leverage?”
“Not that we can tell.
We’re not quite sure why he was there, but we’re digging into it.”
“Everard was very protective of them both.”
“Really?”
Elsie tapped her glasses against the table.
“Maybe…
That could be useful.
Right now, the woman may have immediate, ah, tactical value.”
Barnes spoke up.
“She’s a waitress in a bar down town.
Presence Unlisted.”
Spencer looked at him.
“I don’t know the place.
Sir, I don’t go to bars very often.”
“That’s alright, Captain.”
Barnes gestured at the woman’s photo.
“Her name is Danielle Kendrick.
And she has a daughter.”
“A daughter?”
“Yes.
Adalia Kendrick.
Father’s whereabouts are unknown at this point, but he doesn’t concern us.
Estranged.”
Barnes checked his notes.
“We’d like your team to extract the girl.
Bring her to one of our facilities.”
“Extract a child?”
Spencer shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“That’s a little outside of my expertise.”
“Captain, we’re pretty confident it should be within your capabilities.”
Elsie sighed.
“I must insist that you limit your use of firearms this time.
She is valueless to us unless she is alive.”
“Leverage?”
“Yes.”
Elsie smiled.
“I don’t know of any mothers who wouldn’t do everything they could for their daughters.”
Spencer smiled that dead smile half smile.
“Of course, ma’am.
What about Miss Kendrick?”
“She must also be alive.
It’s a necessary step.
It’s our hope that Miss Kendrick carries sufficient, ah, weight with Mr. Everard.”
“To bring him in?”
“To convince him to help us.”
“Help us?”
Spencer looked down at his feet.
“Ma’am, it’s been my experience that men you’ve shot at are usually unwilling to be helpful.
Of their own free will.”
“A misunderstanding.”
Elsie turned the chair to look out the window.
“That’s beside the point.
It won’t really be of his own free will.
But he will help us nonetheless.”
“I’ll get it done, ma’am.”
Spencer looked at Barnes.
“Do you have the details?”
“I do, Captain.”
Barnes pulled a few sheets of paper from his folio.
“Her school.
We think that might be a useful extraction point.”
“She won’t be at school.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I just pointed a gun at her mother.
She won’t be at school.”
“Hm.”
Sam considered the paper again.
“You may need to use your intuition.”
“She’ll be with family or friends.
I’ll start there.
I assume that Miss Kendrick and her daughter must be alive, but the other parameters of the mission are malleable?”
Elsie sighed.
“Please, Captain.
No details.
Plausible deniability is hard to fake.”
“As you say.”
Spencer took the papers from Barnes.
“The workplace.”
“Presence Unlisted?”
Barnes nodded at the page.
“She works nights and weekends, mostly.”
“I’m not that unfamiliar with how bars work, sir.”
Spencer examined the paper.
“It might be another avenue.
We can apply leverage against Miss Kendrick through friends.”
“Do what you think is most effective, Captain.”
Barnes looked at Elsie, then back to Spencer.
“I don’t need to remind you.
We’re running out of time.”
As the captain turned to leave, Elsie spoke.
“Captain?”
“Ms. Morgan?”
“Alive, Captain.
They must be alive.
I’d say that means you should avoid a head on confrontation with Mr. Everard in the foreseeable future.”
Spencer nodded.
“As you say.”
The door clicked closed behind him.
Elsie sighed again.
She did hope that Mr. Everard would be willing to be reasonable.
This is why she didn’t like men in positions of power in the workplace; they could be so stubborn.
They acted like they made all the rules.
Cancer didn’t follow normal corporate rules.
It was an important lesson to learn.
Elsie nodded to herself; you could learn from your enemy.
Break the rules.
And win.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
When Valentine got back, he gave Danny a quick hug — short and fierce — before he walked into the lounge.
She saw that his eyes were red.
John followed him in, shrugging and mouthing, “I don’t know,”
at her before following him.
Danny walked behind them both.
She could see Val —
Valentine.
— was dusty, bits and chips of things in his hair.
His pants leg was nicked, and there was a stain there, but he didn’t seem to be limping.
What happened?
It was only supposed to be a doctor’s visit.
Valentine walked right up to where Adalia was painting, brown paper and brushes and paint scattered about, and crouched down beside her.
He looked Danny’s daughter in the face then gave her a quick hug.
She giggled.
“Silly,”
she said.
“You’ll get paint on your shirt!”
She brushed his nose with her brush, leaving a bright green stripe.
He laughed, and then tousled Adalia’s hair.
Still crouching, he looked at her, his face turning serious for a minute.
“When’s your birthday?”
“Soon,”
she said.
“Are you going to get me a present?”
“Yes.
But before then — well, I need to ask you a favour.
Could look after something for me?”
He held up a small toy.
It looked like a My Little Pony, except it was broken — the head was turned at a crazy angle.
“What is it?”
Adalia said.
Her face also turned serious.
“It looks broken.”
“It’s a little bit broken, but sometimes things with the best stories are.”
“I like stories!
What kind of story is it?”
Val turned the pony this way and that in his hands.
“It’s a story about a brave girl, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”