Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Smart boy!

It’s verified. We have competition. Wil has assigned me the task of building busters for any number of scenarios and nanos. A futile effort, I think, since ours would be just as useless as theirs would be to ours. Time lines and burn rates and determining targets; too many variables. What we are now watching for is getting stung ourselves. We are taking unbelievable precautions to avoid exposure by the competition. We suspect, and have for a while, that the dendromers stolen by Pete last year were meant for something as mundane as making lots of money by creating a competing entity. As always, weapons remain a commodity garnering the highest return on investment second only to pharmaceuticals.

Wil and I are on our way to Minneapolis of all places. I guess that one city is as good as another to hide in. We are after Generva Lyon, the lab assistant that worked with captain crunch. We learned that she sent several emails and letters on Rojas’ behalf and we need to find out what she may have kept. Funny, she came to us after a few discreetly placed pieces of information had her wondering if she’d been exposed.

I participated in a little breaking and entering last week, a law office in Havana. We slipped through gitmo and launched ashore with a two-man team that led us into the city. We retrieved several case files that supposedly identified a number of persons of interest to the company. This, in turn, has us prepping for a trip to Vitebsk, where a scientist is hiding and scheduled to be removed.

This guy bolted from a military complex in Russia after spilling his guts to a hooker, dumb, and his lawyer via email. He’d been working on fission for some very bad men and I guess he’s gotten scared about what they plan to do with the outcome of their experiments. What those experiments are, we don’t yet know. That’s what we get to find out. It’s his ticket out and he refuses to share anything but a few interesting drawings and the names of associates. Those names were, of course, locked in a lawyer’s office in Havana. He figures if we can swing getting the docs out of Cuba, getting him out of Belarus is a piece of cake.

All his stolen information is encapsulated in a hard drive the size of a lima bean and can only be accessed with a pass-key held by millions of microdots in his blood. So this guy sends us his blood. He kept the hard drive. It’s implanted in a femur. Left or right?. Guess we need the whole body. Smart boy.