Novo Cetus

Chapter Eight

Chapter 8

Twenty-five miles southwest of Virginia Beach sat the newly opened Nash Research facility. Its Director, Dr. Clair Lofton, had spent endless hours working on the business end of running this research facility. Up-to-date background checks and security levels on all thirty-four employees had been her responsibility. She had made networking an administrative priority and introduced herself and the new facility to several government and independent agencies throughout the Northeast.

Clair was in her office reviewing the new website when her secretary Sharon interrupted her.

"Clair! There is a Lieutenant John Brasco of Naval Intelligence on line one, what should I tell him?" Sharon's voice was breathy with excitement. She had worked as hard as Clair at organizing the office.

"Hopefully this is the big one," Clair said. "Forward the call to me."

She recognized the opportunities available in a government assignment. Outrageous overheads built into government contracts were standard and wildly lucrative.

"Dr. Lofton here," she said.

"Brasco here." He launched into his task. "Have you worked with Naval Intel before? It says in my catalog of providers that you have Level A clearance. Are your people current? Who have you worked with?" He waited a nanosecond before saying, "Dr. Lofton -- are you there?"

Clair answered, "Yes – yes I'm here, and we do have Level A clearance, and staff credentialing is current." She stopped. Her list of former clients was nothing special, and she wanted to sidestep the question.

Brasco interrupted her thoughts. "My go-to Virginia Beach research lab is backed up and I need this job done ASAP. I can get the job to you this evening." Brasco was rushing this. He did not want this Dr. Lofton to ask too many questions. "You do take overnight deliveries?" he pressed.

Her parent company Global Nash Research held several standing contracts with the government. Getting her facility a government contract would put her laboratory on the fast track to more significant research projects – and her on the fast track to owning her own lab and doing her own research. Clair was determined to make this connection.

Sharon tip-toed into the office and boldly pressed her ear up against the other side of the phone. As if she read Clair's mind, Sharon elbowed her and gave her the thumbs-up sign.

"Yes, we have a twenty-four hour dock," Clair said. "Lieutenant, you know there is paperwork to complete before we can accept delivery, do–"

Brasco interrupted again. "My people will fill out all the necessary paperwork and get it to you immediately. This is a simple analysis project, Ms. Lofton. We have a piece of – for lack of a better word – mechanical junk we need analyzed. It'll need to be –never mind, I'll brief you by e-mail. I've got to go–" Brasco disconnected the call. He did not intend to forward any information on the "junk" he was shipping to the lab.

Familiar with the meaning behind the term "junk," Clair was surprised Brasco had asked her lab to analyze it. Not that this lab wasn't equipped to do the job, but it sounded like a standard "identify the country of origin" job, typically done by military lab grunts.

"Yippee! Our first big job." Sharon gave a pull on Clair's office chair and spun her around. Clair twirled happily in her chair, thrilled her lab had finally landed a real research job. For the past few weeks, analyzing urine and blood for a city contract was the only work they had seen.

"Okay, Okay, we've got to prepare," Clair said. "The sample will be here tomorrow. You follow up with Brasco on the paperwork and I'll get to work on putting together a research team." She hugged Sharon. "Our hard work really paid off. Thanks for everything you've done."