Chapter 19

Gerald Siscom sat in the small office of the Primate Research Facility’s security chief, Bruce Drayton. Through a window, he noticed low dark thunderclouds looming off to the north of Cinder Mountain, bringing the promise of rain later in the day. A cool breeze swept through the compound.

Sipping their morning coffee together the two men reflected upon the current situation with Millie Harbaum and Roku.

“Radner told me the FBI is going to storm the Harbaum cabin any day now,” Siscom said. “Supposedly, she may be holed up there with Roku.”

“Hope it doesn’t turn out to be another Waco scenario,” Drayton said, blowing steam off his coffee.

“I doubt it. Millie’s not the violent type. I’ve heard now that Harry and Dixie are fired, they are going along. It all seems to be spinning out of control.”

“What the hell happened? I always thought those two were an asset to the university and the facility. Harry wasn’t a micromanager. He let Radner run the place here.”

“I dunno, Bruce,” Siscom said. Out the office’s one window, he noticed a light drizzle was falling. “When you anger the political bosses, you’re going down. Radner said the board of trustees weren’t happy with they way he handled this situation, so he had to go.”

“So Dixie is going with him?” Drayton said.

“That’s about the size of it.”

“And Millie? Any word of her?”

Drayton poured them each another mug of coffee and returned to his chair.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Siscom said.

“You helped with her experiment didn’t you?”

“Part of it, yes. But I didn’t know about the DNA transfer. She kept that a secret until the very last.”

“You know her very well, Gerald. Did you ever think she was capable of something like this?”

“To be honest, Bruce, I found myself deeply attracted to her. Enchanted, I guess. We had a few dates. So, yes, I thought I knew her better than most. But, no, I never expected this. And, in some ways, I still don’t. I can’t explain it.”

“I hope the bad publicity won’t force the university to close our facility,” Drayton said. He drained his coffee and set the cup on his desk. The rain beat against the window like Morse code.

“Me either, but anything is possible with this board, it seems. I’m worried about Millie. I hope she’s not harmed when they catch up with her.”

“What will happen to the creature?”

“They’ll destroy it, of course.

“It’s almost a year old now.”

“I know, but it won’t make a difference. Cal Pacific can’t have a chimera running around being an ever-present example of science run amuck. Instead of studying it, gleaning whatever information can be obtained for man’s benefit, they’ll kill it off. Political sentiment, being what it is in this country, our leaders will bend to the anti-science fever sweeping the land. You know, Bruce, the idea that belief, however misguided or unfounded, trumps scientific progress. Even if it benefits mankind.”

Drayton nodded his understanding. “But we all have beliefs of one sort or another,” he said. “There’s nothing inherently wrong with a belief system.”

“I would agree, up to a point,” Siscom said. “But when beliefs fly in the face of fact, what then? How does one reconcile a belief then?”

“You pose a great question, Gerald. But doesn’t everyone think their own personal beliefs are the correct ones?”

“Down through the ages, beliefs have been proven wrong. The world was once thought of as being flat, then Magellan sailed around it and proved otherwise. Man used to believe in a three-tiered universe, but now we know different. Just to name a few. Beliefs have always been modified by facts and scientific discoveries. At least for most reasonable men.”

“What will it do to Millie if her creature is destroyed?”

“I don’t know, Bruce. Good question. But I worry it will destroy her too.”

***

Located in a multi-story concrete building on the north side of Phoenix and surrounded by a tall wrought iron fence, the FBI field office stood as a megalith in the hot desert sun. The distant mountains appeared as purple teeth that jutted skyward from a brown, desolate landscape. Heat waves rippled off the surface of the desert causing objects in the distance to undulate.

After hearing from Agent Jacoby, Harry and Dixie packed a bag and drove to Phoenix. Taking two days to make the trip, they stopped overnight along the way on the tri-state border of California, Nevada, and Arizona. Even though it was early fall in San Francisco, summer was a fighting a delaying action in the Arizona city. With the temperature hovering in the middle nineties late into the afternoon, Harry was grateful for the field office air-conditioning.

Jacoby greeted them, and, after introducing Dixie, Harry followed the agent down a carpeted hallway to a conference room where a half dozen men dressed in black fatigues were gathered. Jacoby appeared more tanned and rugged than at the university when they talked. He offered Harry and Dixie chairs at the table and took a place at its head. He cleared his throat.

“All right, let’s get started. First, I want you all to meet Dr. Harry Olson and his wife, Dixie, the other Dr. Olson.” He waited for the nodding to stop before he continued. “They will be accompanying us on the raid. Harry is Dr. Harbaum’s supervisor. Now about the operation. Bill, what’s the latest?”

A man in his forties nodded and looked at a pad in front of him.

“The vehicles are ready and parked out back. The helicopter is waiting at Apache Junction. We will rendezvous there, make our way to where the road veers away from the Salt River, and queue up. The plan is to arrive at the cabin after dark, surround it, then move in at midnight. The chopper will provide illumination and cover from above. If she’s there, we should take her into custody without much trouble.”

“Very good, Bill,” Jacoby said. “After she’s cuffed, Dr. Olson wishes to speak with her before you take her to jail for booking. There’s one other item.” Jacoby’s frown deepened. “Dr. Harbaum probably has an animal or some sort of creature in her possession. What it is exactly is difficult to explain, but it’s of great scientific value. We need to take this animal alive if at all possible.”

There were looks of confusion about the table.

“But, under no circumstances, are you to endanger your own life. Shoot to kill if necessary.”

There was a soft murmuring among the agents, each one shooting glance at Harry.

“Anything else?” Jacoby said.

A young man with close-cropped dark hair raised an arm. “What is this creature, sir? Can you not say what it is?”

Jacoby shook his head and looked at Harry. “Dr. Olson,” he said, “care to try and enlighten us? These men ought to know what they might encounter at the cabin.”

Harry cleared his throat and glanced around the table. “Yes,” he said, speaking slowly. “Dr. Harbaum has created what is called a chimera. This is an animal with the genes of two different animal species--in this instant, animal genes mixed with human genes. We don’t really know at this point what its characteristics or capabilities are. My advice would be to be prepared for anything. There was a small travel cage missing from the facility, so it probably is confined in it.”

There was slight murmuring around the table.

“Any other questions? If not, then let’s move out.”

The group of FBI agents loaded into three black Humvees and began the journey to the Superstition Mountains. They drove south through Scottsdale then took a diagonal shortcut eastward toward the mountains and Apache Junction. Finally, they left the haze of Phoenix behind, and Harry breathed the clean air, refreshed by it. At the rendezvous, Harry noticed the helicopter sitting idly in a vacant parking lot.

“I guess we’re here,” he said softly to Dixie.

“Won’t be long now,” she said.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” he said. “Too much firepower. They need to let me go to the cabin by myself.”

“Now that everyone’s gathered here, you’ll never convince them. It’s a military operation.”

“Sure looks like it,” Harry said.

After making sure his agents were all synchronized with the plan, Jacoby and his men found the narrow road along the Salt River. The driver of Harry and Dixie’s Humvee veered right and left in a vain attempt to avoid the large potholes that were numerous, some as large as their vehicle.

Off to their right, Harry marveled at the deep gullies and ravines filled with small puddles and dotted with flowers, Joshua trees, and cactus plants. The sun was low on the horizon, and, with the elevation gain, the temperatures dropped, leaving the promise of a cool evening. The eastern sky was turning a deep shade of purple. In the far distance, the dull outline of Webster Mountain, almost six thousand feet in elevation, was plainly visible.

As dusk evolved into night, they came to the place where the road turned away from Salt River and became a rutted, grass-covered lane. The Humvee convoy stopped. Jacoby passed MREs around, and the men and Dixie ate a hurried meal. When they were finished eating, they gathered around Jacoby’s vehicle, his flashlight illuminating the map he spread out on the hood.

“According to Dr. Olson’s directions and the map,” he said, “this road meanders along a ravine for several miles and ends at the cabin. There is a prominent mound to the south of the cabin where we can set up surveillance. When ready, we’ll call for the chopper, and it will flood the area with its searchlight. Then we’ll move.”

Harry and Dixie climbed back into their Humvee, and the convoy crept toward the cabin. Harry felt his pulse quicken. Dixie placed her hand in his and squeezed. In the dim light of the vehicle’s console, he could tell her face bore a gaunt expression. Harry wished it had not come to this. How could he have been so wrong about Millie? As a graduate student, she was the ideal scientist--hard working, curious, diligent. Although he never considered her overtly personable, Dixie managed to develop a friendship with her and always found her willing to chat. Never standoffish. So what happened?

He knew full well the pressures of the academic life, the stress of having to publish in order to get ahead, to become recognized in one’s field. Was that it? Had Millie become so involved with getting ahead that she lost sight of her morals, her character? As he had once done? Or was it a matter of simple curiosity borne out of that inquisitive mind of hers?

It no longer mattered, of course. The authorities now wanted her, and Cal Pacific’s Board would nail her to a tree.

The lane wound first to the north then back to the east and, at times, Harry thought they were traveling in circles. At last, however, the convoy halted. It was dark, no moon, while a few wisps of clouds obscured a good portion of the stars. The only sounds were from the crickets and tree frogs. An occasional coyote howled in the distance.

The agents exited their vehicles, along with Harry and Dixie. Harry saw that the promontory Jacoby mentioned was a short hike farther to the east. He and Dixie fell into line behind the men as they trudged up the hill and took up a position behind a large group of boulders. By the time they stopped, Harry was breathing hard. Dixie was panting.

Harry scrambled to a point behind an outcropping and peered over the top.

Below, in a small clearing, was the cabin.

Alone. Dark.

Dixie crawled beside him to have a look. “There’s no car down there, Harry,” she said. “She’s not there. Gone.”

“Maybe she hid the car behind the cabin or elsewhere. But you’re right. It doesn’t look like she’s there.”

Jacoby scrambled to Harry’s side. “What do you think?” he said in a low whisper.

“Looks like she’s not there,” Harry said.

“We’ll know soon enough.”

“What time is it?”

Jacoby looked at his watch. “Eleven fifty-two.”

The men waited in the dark, talking only in hushed tones. The minutes ticked by. Harry prayed it would go well and end safely for Millie. If she was in the cabin.

Jacoby looked at his watch again. “Any minute now,” he said.

As if on cue, Harry heard the distant drone of a helicopter moving closer from the west. At its sound, the agents readied their weapons and began the trek toward the cabin.