Skip to main content

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.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Guest Blogger Jessica Park and Chapter One of "Cook the Books."

I am very happy today to have my good friend Jessica Park share the first chapter of her next book, "Cook the Books," due out in March. If you haven't read a Gourmet Girl Mystery, you need to. They're everything a good mystery should be and more--They're funny, romantic, mysterious(duh) and just plain fun. Do yourself a favor and read the entire series. You won't be sorry! Without further ado... Chapter 1 I have a love-hate relationship with Craigslist. On the one hand, I adore poking through the online classifieds for items I don’t even want—Swedish bobbin winders, chicken coops, vintage Christmas ornaments—and for enviable extravagances that I can’t afford—like the services of someone to come to my house to change the cat litter. On the other hand, I hate getting sucked into the vortex of randomly searching for weird items and unaffordable services instead of looking for what I actually need. For example, at the moment, I absolutely had to find a part-time j

Guest Jerrica Knight-Catania!

A big welcome to our guest today, romance author Jerrica Knight-Catania! Jerrica is an absolute doll and we are so happy to have her with us today, which just happens to be her birthday! Happy Birthday, Jerrica! After obtaining a degree in Vocal Performance from the Manhattan School of Music, and years of pursuing a career on the stage, Jerrica left the "glamorous" life of an actress in favor of writing romance. She continues to reside in the New York City area with her husband, cat and ever-expanding belly, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the newest addition to their family. In the meantime, she continues to work on the fourth installment of the Wetherby Brothers' Novels. In the last few years, my husband and I have really gotten into the spirit of giving. We've been so blessed in so many ways in our own lives, it just felt right to start paying it forward. With so many in need, especially nowadays, we love to think of new ways to give back. Last year we came upon

Powerless and Pissy

(The kid and I wrote this blog yesterday, but I'm happy to say we now have power!) Oh. God. Killlll meeeeeee! It’s Friday night and we haven’t had power since just before midnight on Thursday. I’m a baby about this. People have gone without the comforts of electricity for much longer than this, but I am near the edge of insanity. I have zero coping skills. Thursday 12: 10 a.m.: Wind is atrocious. Howling, annoying, relentless. The last woman is about to skate her individual Olympic performance and the power cuts out. Not that I even really follow women’s ice-skating, but I was following it at the moment. The noise outside is enough to wake the dead and I’m hearing something suspicious going on with the deck. I could maybe tolerate noise and fear of exploding transformers, but I cannot sleep without my beloved white noise machine. Will pray that husband falls into some sort of rhythmic and soothing snoring pattern. 12:35 a.m.: Husband is indeed snoring, but sound is laced with a