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Dan abandoned his five-a-side football and didn’t even contact his team to say he wouldn’t be playing. He drove erratically home. He was a complete mix of emotions. Angry, shocked, fearful, a whole gamut of feelings coursing through his veins. He needed a fix as well and he was relieved to see that along with the instructions there were a couple of packets of coke. He was desperate to do a line when he got in, even though it would make him more hyperactive and agitated. The cravings from his body were taking control and his concentration was beginning to lapse even more. Images of his lovely Jessica flashed before his eyes. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being harmed. She was completely innocent and he’d got them into this mess with his stupid coke habit. He slapped the steering wheel in frustration accidentally catching the horn which gave a loud beep making him jump out of his skin.
He stopped at some traffic lights and tried to slow his breathing. His palms were sweaty and he wiped them down his jeans. He just couldn’t understand how drug dealers had found out about the front-runner compound or equally what they could possibly want with it. It was a few months since the news had broken that they were working on a possible cure for cancer. Why was there now suddenly all this interest from underworld characters? It didn’t make sense.
His thought processes were interrupted by more horns beeping, this time directed at him. The lights had changed to green and he was still sitting there. He quickly engaged first gear and the car pulled away hopping slightly as he’d released the clutch too quickly. He couldn’t wait to get home. He needed to concentrate as he was in danger of causing an accident or running someone over. After what seemed ages he reached the road where they lived and found a parking space. He had to parallel park and in his current state made a complete hash of it. He had to pull out several times and repeat the process and after three attempts decided it was good enough even though he was at least a foot from the kerb. It would just have to do. He grabbed his bag and sprinted up the front steps towards their flat which was on the second floor of a converted terraced house. Their neighbour Ruth was leaving so he didn’t have to use his key and so he just rushed inside shouting a cursory “evening” in greeting and entered the sanctity of his flat.
He got out his packet of coke and made a line on the glass-topped coffee table with his credit card. Using a ten-pound note he snorted the line up his right nostril and collapsed back on the sofa. He closed his eyes for a few minutes as he felt the drug suffuse through his body. He leaned forward to put his head in his hands. It was going to be a long wait until he could go into the laboratory and package up the sample of the front-runner compound. He just hoped there would be enough. It would have to be enough. If not, he would have to mix it with something else, a white powder to bulk it out, like they did with drugs. They were often cut with something like baking soda or talc.
How was he going to sleep tonight? He simply couldn’t. His guts were churning but there was no way he could eat any solid food. He opened a bottle of beer and downed half of it in one go. This wasn’t going to be enough though. He found a half-full bottle of vodka and started on some shots of that. He simply had to have something to numb the pain and anxiety.
Exhausted, he took the bottle over to the sofa and switched on the TV. Although he couldn’t concentrate the noise and moving images might provide some comfort. He seriously hoped so.
**
Jessica had resigned herself to the fact that she was going to be incarcerated all night. On the plus side, she’d not been assaulted or raped. She had no idea what time it was as they had removed her watch and the room had no windows. There was now hardly any light filtering through under the door so it must be evening. She realised that she would soon be plunged into total darkness when night fell. At some point, the door opened and a voice told her to pass out the bucket and they gave her an empty one in return. They also gave her a tray with some water and a packet of cheese sandwiches. Her appetite had gone but she somehow managed to force it down as she knew she needed to keep her strength up. She could hear muffled voices and vehicles coming and going from time to time but the location seemed quite isolated. She couldn’t hear any noise of fast-moving traffic on a main road, or any noise from trains. At one point she thought she heard an owl hoot so they must be outside the town or in the countryside.
She lay down inside the sleeping bag. She was still fully clothed, wearing her raincoat. Her tights were ripped and filthy but at least her feet had dried now. The adrenaline coursing through her all day had left her physically and mentally drained. Her eyes closed and she drifted off into a light sleep.
**
‘Can I offer you a drink, Godfrey?’
‘Oh, yes, whisky please, just a small one as I’m driving.’
Cole poured some into his glass first and then a smaller measure for the doctor.
‘Right, well, just a quick chat,’ said Cole, taking a gulp of his drink.
He handed Godfrey a folded paper. ‘Here’s your homework.’
Godfrey glanced at it briefly and nodded.
‘Have you got the necessary equipment ready for tomorrow evening?’
‘Yes, although it’s not been easy. I had to call in a few favours.’
‘That’s what life is all about my dear boy.’
Godfrey remained impassive.
‘The day after tomorrow will be the trial run on a figurative guinea pig. We should have enough material and if we don’t, then someone is going to get a good seeing to.’
‘But shouldn’t we be sure we have the correct material? Get it tested?’
‘And how long do you think that will take?’
‘I’ve no idea, we can hardly walk into the university and ask them to test it can we? I’m sure there are firms who would do it for us though.’
‘There isn’t time. We have made it clear to the chemist who took the material that any attempt to deceive us will be..., and he paused, ‘will not be in his best interest.’ Cole stared at Godfrey menacingly. ‘Understand?’
Godfrey nodded.
‘Then we will schedule the real treatment for later in the week so make sure your diary is clear, understood?’
‘I understand completely,’ and he finished his drink. ‘You’ve not commented on my bit of work at the weekend. I hope you were satisfied?’
‘Oh, yes, you did well. So well in fact that I think we could have repeat performance very soon, what do you say?’
‘Cole, I’ve told you, we have to be careful. We don’t want to do it too often, do we, otherwise, people will be suspicious.’
‘That’s true,’ and Cole nodded. ‘But they will be suspicious of you and not me, won’t they?’
**
Nick went to bed early that night. Fortunately, his headache hadn’t worsened, he was looking forward to the day ahead and hoping he would begin to make an impact on the project. Seth had some material at the penultimate stage in the synthesis, so Nick was going to use some of that and check out the final step, hoping to improve the yield. It would also mean he should be able to get a feel for the properties of the final product. Luckily there was still some sample around so he would have a marker to follow his reaction. He must have fallen asleep for an hour or so and then sensed Polly getting into bed next to him. Sleepily he reached for her and snuggled up against her comforting form. He soon fell back to sleep and didn’t wake until his alarm the next morning.
**
Dan awoke at 3 a.m. in the morning still on the sofa with a nearly empty bottle of vodka next to him. The TV was still playing and he had no idea what he’d been watching before the alcohol took effect. His head was pounding and his throat parched. For a moment his senses were dulled and he couldn’t work out why he wasn’t in bed. Suddenly the full horror of the previous day’s events came flooding back and he felt hideously sick. He stumbled to the bathroom and heaved up his stomach contents over the toilet. He hadn’t eaten any solid food for over twelve hours so there was hardly anything to bring up. He spat a small amount of vile smelling liquid into the pan and stood up slowly. He rinsed his mouth at the basin and was suddenly overcome with another bout of nausea. His stomach ached as it was now completely empty. He had to drink something and went to the kitchen to get some water and paracetamol.
He sat down at the kitchen table in close proximity to the sink in case his nausea returned. Holding his head in his hands he tried to think logically. He still couldn’t fathom how the drug gang knew about their front-runner UP-627-TK. What use would it be? What had changed in the research environment? They must have got his name from Wayne. He thought back to the evening in the pub when his security pass fell on the floor and Wayne picked it up.
Suddenly his senses awoke. Could it be Nick Thomas who had caused all this? He was the new person. Was he secretly a drug user? After all, he’d had time off work and he’d had an accident when he was assaulted. Had he resorted to drug use to help him through a difficult period? It was possible, but was it probable? Then there were the two business consultants, Matt Pearson and Brett Chandler. Was it possible that they weren’t who they seemed? Surely not, they must be wealthy and have lots of opportunities ahead of them. Somehow he couldn’t see them being involved in anything so nefarious.
Whatever or whoever Dan felt was behind all this, one thing remained. He had been dropped in the shit and he had to get out of it. Not just for his sake but for Jessica’s. Just the thought of her made his eyes fill with tears and he put his head down on the table and cried copiously. This was the worst episode of his life. He just hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t get any worse.
