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Boris held the beaker up to the light and inspected it. The liquid was crystal clear. He smiled and turned to Snake, "I think I've done it. I think this is it," a look of pride in his eyes.
Snake sat up quickly. He'd almost been asleep. They’d been in Boris’s lab for hours. He looked around the room quickly and saw dozens of dead mice, cats and a few groundhogs. Boris had been experimenting on any animal or creature he could catch with his hands without fear of reprisal. He stood up, walked over to his partner and glanced at the liquid. "It's about time. Damn, we've been here all day," he said as he looked around at Boris’s makeshift lab that was in a nasty garage over off Porter Street in Richmond's Southside. It was a neighborhood where no one would ask questions because they didn't care.
Boris glared at Snake from across the room. "What the hell do you expect? I'm making poison enough to kill thousands of people. Of course it's going to take time." His eyes glittered with anger.
Snake was silent. He'd just have to suck it up. He was too close to D-Day to fight with Boris again. After all, they'd just had a knockdown drag-out yesterday. Besides, in his mind, the dude was crazy and he didn't trust him as far as he could throw him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear you. What is it they say? Practice makes perfect?"
"Something like that," Boris said as he surveyed his handiwork. All around him were pieces of paper with formulas, ratios and symbols Snake didn’t understand. He was curious. "What are you, man? Some chemist or physicist or something? How’d you know how to make up big batches of poison? It ain't something they teach in school," he said snidely as he stared at the five-gallon bucket of poison.
Boris smiled smugly, mostly to himself as he admired his work. "It's just something I picked up along the way. Don't worry about it. When I do something I do it right."
Snake stretched his limbs and walked idly around the garage scoping out the equipment. He had everything you could imagine. Microscopes, Bunsen burners, beakers, gradients, eye goggles, supplies, syringes, needles and pretty much everything else you’d expect to see in a lab. The place reminded him, sans air-conditioning and sanitation, of one of the big labs at MCV in Sanger Hall. Once again, he wondered who Boris worked for. The guy had never told him. Who was the big boss in this deal?
He decided to find out. "So, who are we working for this time, partner?" Snake asked hoping to learn where his paycheck would come from.
Boris continued to drop poison into small containers. “No need to know.”
Anger shot through Snake. Of course, there was a need to know. He put his life out there every day for people and he had no idea who they were. "Ah, yeah... there’s a need to know. I got my ass stuck out here every day so I think I got a right to know who's who.” Snake paused for a moment and continued, “If I like them and do a better job, maybe I’ll get a bonus,” he joked.
Boris remained silent as he labeled his poison containers.
Snake moved closer to Boris and grabbed his shoulder, "Man, I'm talking to you. Pay attention. Who are we working for?"
Boris slowly turned his head until he was eye level with Snake. His eyes were cold and empty. They looked like the eyes of the dead man. "You ain’t gonna know who you’re working for. So shut up." He looked over at the beaker of poison and said, "If you ask me again, I'm going to shut you up," he threatened as he stared meaningfully at the poison.
Snake knew it was time to back down. He raised his hands up in surrender and said, "Okay, okay. I get it. I think I'm gonna leave for a while. Text me when you want to discuss our plans for the big one," he said with a big grin.
But Boris was once again focused on his test tubes. He didn't bother to respond, but Snake knew he was watching him out of the corner of his eye.
Snake moved across the room towards the door and said, "Later, man. Don't hurt yourself.” He grinned and said, “I’d hate to see you die from your own poison.” As he walked down Porter Street towards his car he wondered again who his employer was. He knew it was a terrorist group, but he didn't know if they were domestic or international. For some reason he thought they might be domestic. But he didn't know for sure. Maybe they were just trying to make the police look bad. He snorted and laughed. That was easy enough to do.