Tuesday, November 8, 2011

If We Could All Just Get Along... &Chapter Five of Covert Reich

Hatred and intolerance is a world-wide evil. We don't live in a world where we all "just get along." Wouldn't that be nice? Think of it. If human beings allowed other human beings to be, as long as no one was hurting anyone. People and our governments around the world have been destroying various cultures and races since the beginning of time for either religious reasons, political reasons, greed, power, race, and sex. I know that I wake up everyday and am grateful that as a woman I was born in this country. I can not even imagine the duress that so many women in the world survive under.

It's this type of hatred and the people who govern and fuel it that the theme of COVERT REICH is based on. However, on the flip side the book is also about those people in the world ready to fight against ignorance and intolerance. It is a story that comes down to the basic good vs. evil. Here is Chapter Five. I hope you enjoy!

Cheers,
Michele

CHAPTER FIVE


After another sleepless night, Ryan decided to get up at 5:00 a.m. and head to the lab. If they were watching, they’d see how dedicated he was. And most importantly, they’d hopefully assume the brain washing had worked and he—good, all-American white boy—had truly joined their ranks.

He’d been watching his back. He had to. If The Brotherhood knew his background and his true feelings, Ryan knew what they could do. He had to act as if he had been converted.

How he hated these men and what they stood for. How he hated himself. He was a white man. A goddamned white man.

A goddamned white man raised in a good home by good people. His father was a teacher, his mother a nurse, and their best friends were the Martins. The Martins always had a little more money than the Horners, but that didn’t matter to Ryan or his parents because the Martins were cool, decent people who were gracious, kind, and fun to be around. And although they might have had it better than Ryan’s family, in some ways the Martins had it worse. The Martins were black.

Darnell Martin was Ryan’s best friend, and Darnell’s sister, Tonya, had been his first real girlfriend.

Then life happened.

The Martins moved to Aspen. The Horners stayed in Boston. Ryan went to BU. Darnell to UCLA. Ryan became a chemist and Darnell went into politics. They remained friends, but life carried them in different directions. Boy had it ever. Ryan shook his head as he sped down the immaculate four-lane highway, trying to erase the memories. He could never contact Darnell now. If he did, they would know.

And they knew everything. They had him by the short hairs. Ryan sighed heavily with memories of his old friend and his old life pervasive in his head. He pulled into the garage at Frauen Pharmaceuticals—a privately owned company based in Germany with headquarters in Los Angeles. Frauen had some very influential investors, and was an up and comer in the women’s pharmaceuticals market. They produced pills for menopause, anxiety, depression; they were even working on a Viagra-like pill that would heighten sexuality for women. But Ryan didn’t develop any of those drugs. Not by a long shot.

He parked the Audi and got out his pass key. After getting through security, he went up to his office, and then into the lab where he stopped in his tracks.

“Good morning, Ryan.”

It was Peter Redding. Redding was the CEO of Frauen Pharmaceuticals. He was also much, much more.

“Good morning, Mr. Redding. I didn’t know you were flying in.”

A crooked smiled spread across Redding’s face. His blue eyes held an unpleasant light. Ryan was pretty certain the man was Satan himself. He was handsome, by most people’s standards. Peter was of average height, but well built. He obviously spent a lot of time in the gym. Redding was probably closer to fifty than forty, but it didn’t show. His salt and pepper hair sparkled under the fluorescent lights. “I came to see you. Only you. Come with me.”

Ryan’s stomach sank. They had found out. They knew about the e-mail.

“What’s this about, sir?”

“I will explain in my office.”

Ryan’s stomach twisted. Wished he’d gone in and kissed the twins’ cheeks goodbye that morning. Oh God. The twins. Jeanine! What if they were there now, with them? What if they were hurting his family? Killing them? The memory of Frederick Färber holding a gun to his head while he witnessed the torture and murders of The Petersens vividly flashed in his mind. What if that bastard Färber was in his home? Sweat slicked his back. He thought he might throw up.

Redding opened two double-wide Mahogany doors and Ryan followed him inside. “Sit down,” Redding pointed to a chair at the conference table and picked up a TV remote, turning on a screen in front of them.

Ryan closed his eyes for a second, knowing what was coming next. His stomach sank.

“Do you see this, Horner?”

Ryan opened in his eyes and a wave of relief hit him. It was a baby hooked up to all sorts of IV’s and monitors. He nodded and with trepidation answered, “Yes.”

“And how about this?”

A young woman—a girl really—Hispanic…dead on a slab.

“Yes.”

Redding turned off the TV. “This is not what I fucking want! This is not what we want, Horner! We want aborted fetuses, we want sterile women. Dead women alert people. They make people scratch their heads and wonder why, why, why?! This is fucked up! Do you understand what we are doing here? Do you?!”

“Yes, sir.” He tried to keep his hands from shaking.

“I am not sure you do.” Redding turned the TV back on and now the screen showed his beautiful wife in their kitchen drinking coffee. Then it changed to show his five years old daughters eating cereal in front of the TV in his family room.

“No,” he whispered.

“No what?”

They had cameras throughout his house. Why was he even surprised by this? “Please don’t hurt them.”

“I don’t want to, Ryan. I really don’t. You have a lovely wife. Cute kids. I like you. I heard you were the best. That’s why you got the job. And of course, Petersen turned it down.” He frowned and it was obviously forced. Redding paused a beat, then his frown turned upward into a wicked smile. “Yes. I like you and I am going to give you another chance to make things right. Fix it. Fix the problem. I have a fucking race to purify, and I can’t have people asking questions about dead girls. Isolate and fix the problem so you can continue to go home every night to your lovely wife and cute kids. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. You have two weeks. Start testing those fucking rats and monkeys of yours and get me the results I want.”

Ryan looked up at the TV as Redding turned it off. His wife. His daughters. Ryan would do whatever Redding wanted. He would find a way.

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