Dues of Mortality by Jason Austin Read Free Book Online Page B

was about security, security, security. It was bound to
happen; with its finger in so many pies, Millenitech was gorging
itself atop a biotechnology food chain that spanned the country and,
unintentional or not, it produced some mighty scrumptious table
scraps. It had taken Jerome Wallace less than twenty years to expand
Millenitech into the largest biotech firm in history, propelled
largely by its patented organ replication process, which had
revolutionized the medical industry. It employed over 700,000 people
all-told and brought the dream of the Great Lakes BioCore to life. A
small city of smooth marble and fiberglass research centers, office
complexes, and pavilions, BioCore was the centerpiece of a
reconstruction project that gave Cleveland map surveyors a five-year
headache. Underground and overhead walkways bridged Cleveland Clinic
and University Hospital branches to the huge spawning ground of
leading-edge medicine that provided an unprecedented coalition of
education, research and development, and patenting and sales. It was
truly a global empire to be coveted by both king and peasant alike.
It was also a lot to protect. And while Jerome Wallace, could always
accept it graciously when things got ugly, when they began getting
expensive...it was time to start collecting scalps.
    “ FBI
should stand for Fucking Brainless Incompetence,” Wallace said.
“That's just what it would take too: somebody detonating a bomb
in the middle of BioCore. The entire complex stretches across
twenty-two city blocks—if they ever decided to hit it, it could
make every terrorists attack so far look like a series of backyard
barbecues! And you know they'd find someplace where security was lapse and I'd
get dragged through ten years' worth years of civil suits while the
plummeting stock drove me to bankruptcy!” He pounded his fist
on the window's thick glass over and over. “Now, to make
matters worse, I've got this little frog-faced fuck hacking my
systems and stealing my tech!”
    “ One
might argue that he was actually stealing it back.” Gabriel
said, maintaining his smoothness.
    Wallace
looked at him, perturbed.
    “ You
two had been disagreeing pretty hotly since you 'scuttled' his
implant; isn't that right?”
    “ I
had to. He never would’ve approved of the applications and I
didn’t want him talking.”
    “ You
should’ve cut him loose.”
    “ Do
you have any idea how far that would’ve set us back? Brains
like his don’t exactly grow on trees! God damn it! Who the hell
do you have to hang over a bridge to get decent fucking security in
this town?”
    Wallace
vacuumed a hit of air up his nose and lowered himself into the chair
behind his $12,000.00 marble desk. He palmed its digital blotter like
a star pianist in a concert hall.
    “ Play
the recording again,” he ordered.
    Gabriel
drew the Nanopod that contained the voicemail from his suit pocket.
Deploying Hobson as a redundant shadow on Block and Jameson had
proved invaluable. Although she’d nearly spotted Hobson in the
adjacent building—a fact Hobson had kept to himself—he
had outperformed Block and it made Gabriel regret not bending to
Hobson's price for doing the entire job himself. Hobson had contacted
Gabriel the second the police popped on the scene. After Block was
carted out, handcuffed to a stretcher and the coast was clear,
Gabriel ordered Hobson inside the apartment to pick up any possible
breadcrumbs that the faltering lummox may have left behind. It was a
damn good thing Glenda Jameson wasn’t completely wireless like
most folks or they would have had nothing to retrieve. Her webscreen
was flashing active when Hobson entered and efficiency demanded he
check it, as well as take a few extra minutes to make it look like
scavengers had encroached on the crime scene. Even Gabriel had to
hand it to him for being thorough.
    Gabriel
held up the Nanopod, and a trembling voice emanated from its
invisible speaker. “Ms. Jameson, hello. This is Richard