Hybrid Zone Revelation, page 19
Forcing a smile, I nodded. “That’s me.” Briefly, I regretted the condition of my clothing, but that vanished as soon as I thought about informing Olivia in what state I had greeted the president.
“Looks like you had a bit of trouble,” he said as he shook my hand, his eyes darting to Kenny when he snorted in agreement.
“Some,” I acknowledged.
“You’re not what I expected.” He didn’t even try to conceal the disappointment in his voice.
“I get that a lot,” I admitted.
Withdrawing his hand, he used it to signal the secret service agents that accompanied him. Everyone stepped back to allow them to arrange the chairs they retrieved from a nearby pallet. When they finished, the president nodded and the agents left the room.
“Shall we?” the president asked, indicating for everyone to sit.
Kenny nudged my elbow as I grabbed the back of my chair, tilting his head in Garrison’s direction.
“I know,” I whispered. Dead man walking. I sat and then turned to verify where Reynolds was. He’d chosen to remain standing and though his posture suggested he was at ease, his face was anything but. I waited until I caught his eye, then gave my head a gentle shake. We did not need him unleashing his inner hybrid. At least not until the meeting had officially gone to hell.
“Dr. Greer,” the president said, recapturing my attention. “I’ve called this meeting to find out what happened in New Orleans and to determine a course of action. I’m hoping that you have the answers I need.”
All heads turned to me expectantly, putting me squarely in the spotlight. And for one brief second, I had the distinct feeling that this was rigged. Like I was supposed to give some grand performance. There was just something in the president’s eyes that was too certain of the outcome, too confident. It didn’t identify him as an enemy, but it made me wary of playing along. Not that I had a choice. But if he already knew what had happened in New Orleans, then what did he want me to say?
The question of what happened in New Orleans beat against me while my mind sprinted through the memories of my time there. I knew the president was referring only to the recent incident, but that was the result of something larger, not a singular event. The tragedy that had unfolded at the Colony was ultimately the culmination of a government turning its back on the hybrids. That power vacuum had been filled by someone intent on creating made to order hybrids. Maybe someone else found out about it and stepped in. Maybe they issued an order to clean house. That wouldn’t account for Millsap, unless they used him in their cleanup effort. It would account for the HCF’s subsequent absence during the cull. Someone had given the order for HCF personnel to bug out.
“Dr. Greer,” the president prodded.
“Betrayal,” I said. “It’s a tale of betrayal and murder.”
“I knew it,” Mallet barked, slapping the table for emphasis. “Hybrids cannot be trusted.”
The president’s eyes never left mine as he made quieting motions with his hands towards Mallet. “Dr. Greer, you were saying.”
The note of approval in the president’s voice rang loud to me. Guess I was on script. “I was speaking of the government’s betrayal of the hybrids,” I clarified.
“How do you mean?” Admiral Murdock asked.
“The government confiscated the hybrids, all the associated technology, created the HCF and then ignored them. You did nothing for the first generation hybrids, other than let them die. And then based on the success of the second generation, which you knew nothing about, started concocting plans for designer hybrids.”
“Oh great, we’ve got a pansy liberal on our hands,” General Mallet muttered loudly.
Ignoring Mallet’s comment, Mr. Trace said, “Dr. Greer, no one at the HCF had any plans to create designer hybrids.”
“That you were aware of,” I corrected. “Someone did and had started instituting policy decisions based on that goal.”
Mr. Trace shook his head. “There were no policy changes approved in the general operation of the HCF. I am the one who would have had to grant any such approval.”
“Like I said, betrayal. I believe the cornerstone of betrayal is not knowing.”
The room shifted uncomfortably at my assertion. Apparently, none of them had considered the possibility.
“Dr. Greer, how do these purported changes in policy relate to the massacre? Are you implying that they were the cause? An inside job?” the president asked.
Very good, maestro. It was an inside job in the respect that someone at the HCF allowed it to happen. I knew firsthand that the acting head of the HCF, Norris Cain, had been mixed up with the Consortium. He had confirmed to me personally that Millsap knew about the Colony. But Cain was weak, just a bureaucrat in search of power. He didn’t have the wherewithal to accomplish this. Someone else had been the impetus for the policy changes. Judging from his responses, the operation of the HCF fell under Mr. Trace’s purview. But he was ignorant of what was going on, which meant he wasn’t my guy.
“The HCF may not have personally carried out the attack,” I said. “But they allowed it.”
“I cannot believe what you are saying,” Trace blurted out. “The HCF was attacked, not just the hybrids. Mr. Cain is still missing.”
“Mr. Cain is dead,” I said bluntly. “And not as a result of the attack, though he bears some responsibility for it.”
“This is ludicrous,” Trace protested.
“Are you saying that Cain was the traitor?” Admiral Murdock asked.
“One of them,” I nodded.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs leaned forward. “Excuse me, Dr. Greer, General Hurser,” he said, indicating himself. “I’m curious to know how you deduced that Mr. Cain is dead.”
“I was there when he died.”
“You were there?” he repeated doubtfully.
“I was. I also know that he revealed the location of the Colony to some very bad people.”
The Secretary of Homeland Security scooted his chair forward, as if he’d just decided to join the conversation. “If I understand correctly,” he drawled. “Are you not just a scientist under the employ of the HCF? I find it incredible that you would be in possession of any such knowledge.”
Just a scientist? I smiled indulgently at him. “What I find incredible is that you are not. It is inconceivable that a conspiracy regarding a highly secret—must stay secret for the good of the country—program is conducted right under your nose, and you haven’t the slightest inclination that anything improper is happening.”
The Secretary sat back in his chair, glaring at me through calculating eyes. He was furious that I had spoken to him like that. I was furious that he’d called me a liar.
“I believe we are getting off track,” President O’Conner said quickly. “Dr. Greer is a member of the Organization,” he said as an aside to the secretary, but it didn’t lesson the secretary’s anger.
“Allowing that what you are saying is true,” General Hurser continued, as though the secretary hadn’t spoken. “Then this problem extends beyond the confines of the HCF.” He paused and looked at me, waiting for confirmation.
“Dr. Greer,” the president said, drawing my eyes to him. “How far does this reach?”
Crap. I didn’t know for sure. More and more the evidence pointed to the fact that the Consortium wasn’t acting alone. Who at the HCF was working with them, I didn’t know yet. But the potential reach? It was big.
“It’s pretty far, Mr. President.”
That was the opening Mallet had been waiting for. His voice was soft, insistent as he leaned forward to plead his case. “This is the possibility I’ve been warning you about, Mr. President. We have got to rid ourselves of this threat once and for all before they all go rogue.” He twisted in his chair, looking back and forth between the other men as he gauged support for his position. “Once this gets out of control, there will be no stopping it. Our lives—the lives of the American people will be a horror movie.”
The room was silent as they digested Mallet’s words. It was evident they hadn’t fallen on entirely deaf ears.
“Dr. Greer,” General Hurser spoke again. “The brutality of the attack would suggest that it was executed by hybrids. Is that what we’re dealing with? Rogue hybrids?”
That was a fair assessment. “Yes, sir,” I nodded.
“Then this should be easy enough to deal with,” The Homeland Security Secretary said confidently. “We treat it like any other thug war that needs to be quashed.”
I shook my head in amazement. “I don’t think you grasp how far hybrids have evolved,” I said.
“What do you mean by evolved?” Mr. Lender asked, his eyes rife with unmistakable curiosity. That was when I understood that Mr. Lender was a scientist.
“Why does it even matter,” the Homeland Secretary answered. “We shoot, we kill. End of story.” Sitting back in his chair, he smugly crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re talking about hybrids, not superheroes,” he dismissed. “What? Are they faster than a speeding bullet? Able to leap tall buildings? Vampires, maybe?” He laughed loudly so as to emphasize the ridiculousness of the idea. He stopped when he saw my face.
I was beginning to think that the whole apparatus for the security of the nation had been left out of the loop on hybrid advancement. Not Garrison, of course, but he hadn’t said one word in this meeting so far.
“Mr. Trace.”
He looked up at me.
“How much do you know about hybrid capabilities?”
“We were waiting on your report,” he said helplessly.
Just another bureaucrat then. “Mr. President?”
“Likely more than you do,” he answered flatly.
I raised my eyebrows at him. I really doubted that was the truth, especially considering the lack of knowledge his advisors had. Except for Garrison. Garrison could have kept the president informed if he chose to. Still, the president’s response did not directly admit to knowing about the existence of nanobots. With all the other people present, I wasn’t going to take the chance of them learning something they didn’t need to know.
“A military exercise aimed at ridding the world of hybrids is very ill advised,” I cautioned them.
“It worked well enough at the Colony,” Mallet muttered under his breath.
Strange that he would classify what happened at the Colony as a military exercise. I fixed my gaze on him. “Did it? Seems to me that it managed to capture the attention of the one force capable of dealing with this.”
“You are speaking of the Organization?” Admiral Murdock asked.
“I am,” I nodded at him. And that was all the information I was going to give them. “Mr. President, you’re just going to have to trust that the Organization is handling it.”
The brief respite of silence quickly dissolved into chaos as the various attendees felt the need to voice their objections to my assertion. The spit flew as Mallet engaged Trace in a shouting match. Not to be outdone by them, the president’s advisors argued equally as loud. Even Mr. Lender became animated. The only ones not engaged were President O’Conner and Garrison. Behind his hands, I could just make out the smile that Garrison was hiding. In contrast, the president’s face was dark with anger. This was not going the way he wanted, which made me think he was in favor of hybrids. I couldn’t help but wonder why that would be.
Camouflaged by the arguing, I caught the president’s attention. Just below a whisper, I said, “Mr. President?”
He tilted his head slightly, lifting his eyebrows at me in invitation to continue.
“There is a very real chance of hybrid exposure to the world,” I whispered softly.
Clasping his hands together in front of his mouth, he asked, “Can the Organization handle it?”
My heart skipped a beat. He had really heard me. The president was a hybrid. Blinking rapidly, I scrambled to process the startling revelation. I wanted to turn to Reynolds and Kenny and say, “Can you believe this?” But the souring expression the president wore as I stared blankly at him nixed that idea. Quickly, I scanned the rest of those assembled, but everyone except for Garrison was oblivious to our interaction.
Raising my shoulders in a shrug, I let them drop. “Working on it.”
He lowered his hands, revealing the hard set of his jaw. He wasn’t pleased with my response.
“Gentlemen,” the president said loudly. “If we could all please retake our seats.”
It took a minute, but everyone finally conceded to sit.
“I’d like to know if the Organization considers what happened in New Orleans as handling it?” the president asked, hurling my words back at me.
I fumbled the catch. His switch in tactics had caught me off guard. Anger bubbled inside me, forcing me to take a few seconds before I could answer calmly. “We were caught by surprise, as were you,” I reminded him. “That won’t happen again.” I could hardly believe I had just promised that.
“Mr. President, we cannot entrust the safety of this nation to the Organization,” Mallet growled. “Hasn’t that already been proved by the massacre? I say…”
Mallet’s voice faded into the background. Why did the president have this idiot here? Nothing useful was going to come out of this meeting if he didn’t shut up. All he was doing was exposing himself as a problem. I looked up at the president who was staring at me. Maybe that was the purpose.
“Shut up,” Trace ground at Mallet. “The last time I checked, we needed answers, and you didn’t have them.”
Giving up all pretense of persuasion, Mallet turned on Trace. “If we don’t put a stop to this,” he snarled, his finger pounding the table, “the whole world is going to find out.”
“Find out that you lied?” I asked abruptly.
Mallet looked like I’d punched him in the face. Studying his response, I had a thought. He looked to be around sixty. He could have been around when this all went down the first time. He might have even been in on the decision to hide the hybrid program.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped at me.
But I was on to something. Then I recalled his first name, Gene. GM, just like the initials stamped on the bullet. The anger that had cooled to a simmer roiled to the surface. I ground my teeth together even as I fought the urge to shift.
“Breathe, Greer,” I heard Garrison whisper faintly.
I was breathing, intentionally taking deep breaths in an attempt to maintain control. But too little sleep and too many frayed nerves wasn’t making that task easy. I knew that letting loose on Mallet right now would only strengthen his position. It might even incite the others to join the charge against hybrids. I couldn’t let that happen, no matter how much I longed to grab those Alabama Munition tape reels and wrap him like a mummy.
“Dr. Greer,” Garrison said. “In your opinion, how does the president need to prepare his administration to handle this?”
The sound of Garrison’s voice penetrated the vision I was creating. Slowly, I repeated the question to myself. He was leading me in the direction he wanted the discussion to go. I had a ridiculous urge to yell, “Objection, leading the witness.”
Kenny walked up and grasped my shoulder, just firm enough for me to notice. I was grateful for the support.
“Being prepared for the worst and not having that happen is always better than being caught unaware,” I managed to say calmly.
“The worst being?” the president questioned.
“The worst being the revelation of the government’s role in maintaining the hybrid program.”
“The 1940s all over again?” General Hurser concluded.
I nodded, but then stopped. It didn’t have to end the same way. “That is not necessarily true,” I amended. “Hybrid research has uncovered some truly remarkable things. Benefits to humanity that cannot be overstated. If the government were to position itself in that light, there could be a whole different outcome.”
The Homeland Security Secretary cleared his throat. “What benefits are we talking about?”
“Cures to diseases, regrowth of limbs. Soldiers with remarkable capabilities. The possibilities are virtually endless.”
“I thought you were against designer hybrids,” Mallet jeered.
“You thought wrong. I’m against slavery, and I have never been against a superior military.”
General Hurser leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. Hunger radiated from every fiber of his being. I’d seen it often enough in military commanders. They wanted the world’s supreme military, and here I was, dangling it in front of them.
“We would require proof of such claims,” he said carefully.
“What do you think the hybrid program has been doing all these years?” I challenged.
“I’m really not sure,” he said, clearly flummoxed by his lack of knowledge.
Mr. Trace leaned forward and looked at me intently. “You’ve seen this? The regrowth of limbs?”
I hadn’t, but I’d seen the formation of appendages that should never have been there. “I’ve witnessed unbelievable things,” I nodded at him.
“Come on,” Mallet whined. “We cannot really be talking about considering even the possibility of intentionally revealing the existence of hybrids to the public?”
“You cannot possibly believe that you can keep this hidden forever?” I shot back. “With all the new technology…cell phones, google glass for goodness sake. This particular event may not be the one that exposes hybrids, but it’s going to come out eventually, one way or another.”
