Invisible Death

First, Do No Harm

"What exactly went wrong?"

From his massive rosewood desk, the blue Caribbean ocean gleaming behind his high-backed chair, Oliver St. Clair was not pleased. He looked at his second-in-command, head of the scientific aspects of his cover operation, Dr. Kenneth Harrison, former director of Genomex itself, and pondered. Harrison had his own agenda, of course, and that agenda included extracting revenge from his ex-employer, Mason Eckhart, who had recently been a guest at the best St. Mallots resort with his wife and daughter. And bodyguards, let's not forget that.

When Eckhart had booked two bungalows in the resort, they had taken pains to hide any evidence of the Final Solution operation. Harrison and Hobson stayed out of sight, security was doubled on the hidden special wards and laboratories, instructions on confidentiality were reinforced. And the Vault inside the mountain had been sealed off, the staff, all volunteers, of course, staying in. Operations would proceed as scheduled, but under maximum security status.

Now, Harrison was sitting across Oliver's desk, looking obviously uncomfortable. Thomasina Hobson, his administration assistant and lover, as the gossip network buzzing around the resort and healthcare operations had it, her permanently plastered smile duly sewn to her mouth, sat next to him and looked at Oliver with cold eyes that belied her lips. Besides working for Harrison, Hobson was in charge of locating known mutants arriving at the resort, and organizing their disposal as guinea pigs on Oliver's Final Solution. They would most likely die in the island's top notch hospital and the death certificate would list food poisoning, anaphylactic shock due to a devastating allergic reaction, some unforeseen tropical disease, anything. In truth, they would perish of plague, specially engineered to affect only genetically altered people. People... ha! Freaks. They would be studied and, then, discarded. The island's independent state legislation allowed that.

"What did you miss?"

Oliver's voice never wavered from its measured baritone, carefully pitched to unsettle or allure his listener. In many ways, Oliver reminded Ken Harrison of Eckhart. The same composure, the same poise... not quite the same way with words, but close enough. Harrison would never be free from those imposing, hieratic figures. He fidgeted on his seat, but wouldn't give Oliver the satisfaction of seeing him run a finger between his collar and neck, as if it were too tight. Maybe he could even salvage the situation. He had a few aces up his sleeve for such difficult occasions. "All security measures were taken to prevent compromising of the operation. The doctored lei would be normally used because we figured the only mutants in Eckhart's party, if any, would be one of his bodyguards, and he goes through several of them at any given time."

"You figured he would have left the bodyguard here?"

"The Eckhart I knew would have done that. The medical facilities here are famous worldwide."

"He didn't leave the bodyguard here. He fled the country risking an international incident." Oliver's voice remained measured, and he looked directly to Harrison with his unsettling fixed stare that had on his interlocutors the same effect a rattlesnake had on a bird. "St. Mallots is an independent republic."

"One you purchased to use as a spring board for your private revenge", thought Thomasina Hobson. "We did not have all the information," she offered. "You see, we didn't know Catherine Eckhart was, actually, Catherine Hartman Eckhart."

"And that makes a difference because...?"

"Upon further research, we found out Catherine's mother to be one Danielle Hartman," explained Harrison. "She was one of the first Genomex aberrations to be created, preceding my admission to the company by many years. In fact, the creation of Danielle Hartman precedes even the arrival of Adam Kane at Genomex."