Terms (The Experiments Book 3) Read online

  Caldwell Research Institute - Los Angeles, CA

  August 28th

  Dr. Greg Haynes walked about the same height as the older Dr. Jefferson. He had a pleased look on his face, despite the fact that they were packing up the research facility that was erected merely for the purpose of the recent experiment.

  “Getting gray happened to you.” Dr. Jefferson said. “You expected it wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah.” Greg led the way into the office. Boxes were scattered about. “More gray hair. However, like the president acquires a few during his term, I guess it only goes to figure, so would I. Seat?” He indicated to a chair then moved a box for Dr. Jefferson to sit down.

  “I have to say Greg, this complex was a brilliant idea. In a way I hate to leave it.”

  “Not me. Can’t wait to get home.” Greg walked behind his desk and sat down. He rocked back in his chair. “Of course that’s after we arrive at the island.”

  “Any news on if the amoebas are all gone?”

  “Looks clean.” Greg replied. “Then again, we’ll know for sure when no one dies. Right?” He gave a smirk. “Now what was it you needed to discuss with me?”

  “I’ve been reviewing.” Dr. Jefferson stated. “Now, granted, it was a stroke of genius the way you pulled in funding for this one. Satisfying research for different companies all while incorporating that into the experiment. You did well. The results were remarkable. The companies satisfied.”

  “But?” Greg asked. “I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

  “I’m fearful you grew, shall I say, arrogant.”

  Greg chuckled. “Arrogant. How do you figure?”

  Down on the desk, Dr. Jefferson laid a folder. “These are just some of the contracts you signed on behalf of Caldwell. Contracts we’ve already started to receive funds for.”

  “OK.” Greg was confused.

  “Greg, your plate is full. Caldwell has numerous scientific project in the works. You have Iso-Stasis fourteen to plan and set up. Usually we don’t make promises to fulfill contracts and research obligations until the next experiment.”

  “Those contracts have nothing to do with the next experiment. Those contracts will help fund current and new projects.”

  “Even worse. Now you’ll have to go and seek companies that need research and start building the funding for the next experiment.”

  “Not a problem.” Greg said assuredly.

  “How do you not see a problem? Don’t you think you bit off more than you can chew?”

  “Hardly. Dr. Jefferson . . . .it’s under control. I have ideas already for Iso-Stasis fourteen.” He tapped his own temple. “And as far as funding, trust me, investors will line up and so will anyone who needs something tested in an unethical way. Hey, that’s us. As far as current scientific endeavors, we’ve got the facilities and the people already on those. And these contracts.” Greg winked. “I’ve already gotten experts on this. They are setting up how these research results can be obtained through a style only Caldwell can pull off. So don’t worry. It’s a situation under control.”

  “And you’re forgetting an important factor. One that eats up a lot of time through processing. One . . .” Dr Jefferson lifted and dropped a folder. “These people are under the impression we’ve already taken care of.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Test factors. We need to find suitable test factors.” Raising an eyebrow, Dr. Jefferson gave a look to Greg that all but said, ‘didn’t think of that, did you?’

  Of course Greg, smiled a tight lip smile.

  Inhaling, Dr. Jefferson sat back in his chair and spoke with apprehensive defeat. “Under control?”

  “My dear Dr. Jefferson. As far as test factors for these new research obligations . . .” Greg folded his hands and placed them behind his head as he leaned back in the chair. “We have that more under control than you could ever imagine.”

  The Plaza - Los Angeles, CA

  August 29th

  The first thing that went though Aldo Connilucci’s mind as he entered the posh, empty lounge of the hotel was if Jake Graison owned any real clothing.

  Dimly lit mainly with small cocktail lamps on each table, Aldo made his way across the room. He looked like a poster boy for small time thugs, but Aldo was actually a very rich man. A long time investor in Caldwell and the experiments, Aldo was perhaps the richest of them all.

  It wasn’t surprising that he himself stayed at the exquisite hotel for the last night in town, it was, however surprising that Jake Graison sprung for such an upscale one nighter.

  The bartender cleaned up with diligence and also with a happy look upon his face. Perhaps because he didn’t have to deal with Jake sitting at the bar. That was Aldo’s first guess.

  He offered a polite smile to Aldo along with a beverage napkin. “Best bourbon on the rocks, Mr. Connilucci?”

  “Sounds good..” Aldo replied. “Um . . .” He shifted his eyes. “Better make it a double.”

  Obliging, the bartended set down the drink for Aldo.

  Quickly Aldo downed it, looked back at Jake, then set the glass before the bartender again. “Another. Thanks.”

  The bartender began to refill. “Make yourself comfortable.” He gave a nod of his head to a barstool. “Or aren’t you staying?”

  “Oh, I’m staying. I’m just getting ahead of the game.” He gave a nod Jake’s way.

  With a breath and a pity look the bartender topped off Aldo’s drink. “Good luck.”

  Aldo snickered with an agreeing shake of his head. “Thinking about that, give me the whole bottle.” Laying a fifty on the bar, and telling the man ‘that’s for you, put the rest on my tab’, Aldo walked bottle and glass in hands, away from the bar.

  Jake sat alone at the furthest table in the lounge. There was no missing Jake. Even if the bar was packed, to Aldo, the ‘big son of a bitch’ could be seen a mile away. His height hard to hide, especially when Jake was a living advertisement for the United States Army. He wore those all purpose green pants, an Army sweatshirt, and in yet another surprise to Aldo, Jake puffed on a cigar.

  But the surprises didn’t stop with Jake’s sleeping accommodation, or his choice to consume tobacco, the biggest surprise was the fact that Jake showed up.

  It was pushing one in the morning, the time Aldo requested for Jake to meet him for a late night meeting so to speak. Of course, being the gambling man that he was, Aldo was willing to wager Jake would deny his presence was because of Aldo’s invitation.

  “Evening.” Aldo greeted, set down his drink, along with the bottle, and pulled out a chair.

  From his own hard liquor drink, Jake looked up then leaned back in the chair.

  “I see you got my message to meet me.” Aldo sat down.

  “What message?” Jake asked.

  It was a snide smile, and Aldo tried to hide it. After a swipe of his index finger across his thick mustache he pulled out a cigarette. “OK. We’ll call it a chance encounter.”

  “This encounter is by chance.” Jake said low. “My career and your dealings do not mesh. So I agree to meet you nowhere.”

  Aldo rolled his eyes and mumbled. “You probably burned the evidence of my request into ashes.”

  “I did.”

  “Figures.” He showed Jake the bottle. “Another?”

  Jake only gave a single nod. “Thanks.”

  Aldo refreshed Jake’s drink. “So seeing that this is a chance encounter, what brings you down to the bar at one in the morning?”

  “You can say I had this feeling of . . . urgency?” Over the rim of his glass, Jake raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, perhaps maybe there was something labeled extremely important I needed to hear.”

  Aldo smiled. “By God what luck. I just so happen to have something I feel is extremely important to tell.” He showed Jake the unlit cigarette. “Do you mind.”

  “Indulge.”

  “Thanks.” Aldo lit up. “After the wrap up of the experiment, I fully expected you to be o
ut like a light tonight.”

  “Nah. Not me. “ Jake answered. “Cal and Rickie.”

  “Speaking of Cal . . .”

  “Maybe something important you have to say?” Jake asked.

  “As a matter of fact . . .” Aldo grew serious. “Yes. I know making deals with me, taking my help, is not something you can or will do. But . . . but . . .” He took a sip of his drink. “It’s there if you need it. My resources are at your disposal when it comes to Cal.”

  “Resources?” Jake stated the word as his question for clarity.

  “Protection. Pull. Name it.”

  “Why would I need that?” Jake asked.

  Aldo breathed heavy. “I think they may be going after Cal.”

  Jake turned a quick look at him. “Why would you say that.”

  “A few reasons. One, don’t forget I was there. Constantly during the experiment. I overheard . . . .a lot.”

  “Did you overhear they were going after Cal?”

  “No.” Aldo answered. “But I’m not a dumb man, Jake. They’re either going after Cal or they’re going after you. What is the best way to get to you?”

  “My wife.”

  “Exactly.” Aldo nodded. “Things were too laid out. Too planned. This was my fourth experiment Jake, and I have never seen them manipulate a situation to the point where it seemed they planned for it to go way beyond the experiment’s end.”

  Jake didn’t respond, he finished his drink and poured another.

  Aldo continued. “The contract states . . .”

  “Nothing in the contact scares me.” Jake interrupted.

  “Well it should. Did you read it?”

  Jake fluttered his lips. “Of course I read it. Twice. This is our second experiment.”

  “Then you know exactly what it states in Paragraphs 15 A through 15 C. And in case you don’t remember, let me refresh your memory. The section heading is, ‘Precipitated Caldwell Property . . .”

  Jake finished the sentence heading. “ . . . Post-Experiment’. I read it. I know.”

  “Paragraphs, ‘A’, ‘B’, and ‘C’?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re still not worried?” Aldo questioned.

  “Nope.”

  “Look at me.”

  Jake did.

  Aldo examined his face. “I know people. I know reactions. And I know you are an intelligent man, Graison. It’s in your eyes, because it’s on your mind. You know it.”

  The sides of Jake’s cheeks indented with the hiding of his thoughts. He lifted his glass. “It’s also in the paragraph that documented proof of the institute’s responsibility . . .”

  “Proof?” Aldo let out a scoffing laugh. “You want them to give proof. How’s this for scaring you off you big goddamn ass? You don’t think they want your wife? You don’t think they’ll claim responsibility for her and . . . and anything else . . ?” Aldo paused when Jake snapped a glare at him. “And you know damn well what that ‘anything else’ is. You know it. Here’s your proof Graison. You’re sterile, how did your wife get pregnant?”

  Immediately Jake stood up. “Conversation over.”

  Standing as well Aldo continued his plight. “How did your faithful loving wife end up in bed with Billy Griffith?”

  Jake froze and spun hard to Aldo. “I said, this conversation is fuckin over. You hear me?”

  “No, you hear me. That little Spanish Fly they doused the bourbon with. It wasn’t your average, run of the mill, urban legend aphrodisiac. It was a viable drug, Jake. A drug that not only stimulates the hormones to increase the urge, but a drug that also stimulates the ability to conceive. An infertility clinic came up with the idea and they hired Caldwell. Caldwell invented it, created it, enhanced it. then viably tested it. And the results . . .” Aldo whistled. “Were amazingly successful. Viewable at any time in a remarkable case study named . . . .Cal Graison.”

  Jake took a deep breath.

  “Worry, Jake. Worry.” In the silence, Aldo stared at Jake for a moment. “Call me.” After finishing his drink, with no more to be said, Aldo walked out.

  Caldwell Institute - Los Angeles, CA

  August 29th

  His left hand rested upon the larger, fleshy, nude buttocks of the sexually exhausted woman in his bed. In his other hand, Greg gripped a phone. His eyes though, never left the woman’s body which wasn’t even covered by the sheet. On her stomach, arms extended she laid. Her thicker body pillowed in a beauty Greg found hard to resist. He tried to pay attention to the man who spoke to him on the phone. His scientific instinct was able to pick up and decipher the information that was needed. But Greg couldn’t help it, the more he watched the woman, the more he just wanted to dive in and devour her all over again. He thought to himself that he would have to make it a point to get her name. She was definitely someone he wanted to get together with again whenever he returned to Los Angeles.

  Work. Attention. Greg rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry repeat that,” he said.

  The woman shifted slightly on the bed, releasing a soft moan of her dreams that was too reminiscent to Greg of all that just transpire. A twinge of excitement hit him.

  “Um . . . OK.” He tried to draw his attention back to the conversation. “Are you sure? Graison and Aldo were talking about this?”

  Her sleepy heavy exhale caused Greg’s fingers to widen. He slid them more across her rear in a soft gripping manner as he wedged the phone between his shoulder and cheek, freeing up his other hand for his own personal exploration.

  “And they said . . .” Greg’s eyes closed. “What?” He asked, realizing at that moment he was impressing himself with his ability to do three things at one time. Talk. Fondle. Manipulate. Increasing the intensity and speed of each with every passing second. “You’re sure they mentioned that specifically?” He questioned in a haste. “Any . . .” Eyes glued on the woman, he breathed heavily, and squirmed some. “Deals?’

  A change of her sleeping position was an invitation to Greg. The inch of her weight to one side, and slow ‘lift and bend’ of her leg, caused Greg’s hand to slip into the wispy hair area she inadvertently exposed. The aromatic hint of nature’s calling perfume swept up to him, and he groaned.

  “I’m sorry.” Greg caught himself. “Thank you. I’ll . . . I’ll take care of it.” Not wanting to, but knowing it wouldn’t be difficult to get the momentum back, Greg let go and grabbed the phone, setting it on the base.

  Because he had to, he took a moment to be in a business mode. Completely out of the bedroom realm, Greg placed his thoughts on the conversation. He rehashed the information and understood it. Graison and Aldo were not a problem. They might have put a rush on things, but most definitely not a problem. Being angry or worried about it was fruitless, because Greg was pretty much in complete control of that situation. Unlike the one before him that drew Greg immediately back. How could it not? Three of his senses--sight, touch, and smell–were fully occupied, while the fourth one of taste, beckoned him with urgency.

  After thinking that there was no way Graison and Aldo would beat him at his own game, Greg put aside all aspects of the experiment and Caldwell business right there and then. Delivering what he thought would be a delightful awakening, Greg lowered his head to his new found female friend.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Plaza - Los Angeles, CA

  August 29th

  ‘Pass the creamer.’

  “The weather is great.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll have a bagel.’

  Common phrases that slip from the tongue without much thought or emotions. Delivered in the same manner that Greg delivered the statement to Jake over morning coffee. So uneventful he spoke the words, ‘we want your wife.’

  It took everything Jake had not to spring forth his hand across the table, grab Haynes by the throat and snap his neck.

  “You’re not saying anything.” Greg spoke.

  “That’s because at this moment, I’m trying to figure out how to make your death look like
a fuckin’ accident.”

  “I believe . . .” Greg added cream to his coffee. “Aldo made that offer.” He shook his head. “A man of your stature shouldn’t be involved in such dealings.”

  “Where are you getting that from?” Jake asked.

  “You can say I am everywhere. I see all. I hear all. I know all.” Greg smiled. “Like God.”

  “Yeah well, hey God, you aren’t getting my fuckin’ wife.”

  Calmly Greg looked at Jake. “Before you get yourself upset, you know my basis of this request. Section fifteen of the contract you and your wife both signed. Now . . . I can easily have gone to Cal first, but I wanted to break it to you, figuring you would break it to her in a way, she wouldn’t give us any hassle.”

  “Nothing in section fifteen gives you the legal right to claim her.”

  “I’m not saying ‘claim’ her. I’m saying we need her. We have the legal right, whether you like it or not, to call upon your wife if we have the need for research, and testing, for up to the next three years.”

  “I’ll fight you on this.”

  “Fight me. Go on. You’ll lose. You know it.” Greg spoke arrogantly. “You’re boasting parenthood Lt. Col. Graison. Why is that? Think about it, if it wasn’t for this experiment, would you right now, be expecting a child? No.” Greg shook his head. “Our manipulation caused your wife’s infidelity. For that we have documented proof. Our manipulation through that infidelity caused the pregnancy. Her one time multiple pregnancy is proof of that. You agreed. You signed.”

  “I was sterile. I didn’t give it a second thought.”

  “You should have.” Greg sipped his coffee. “You of all people know through the Iso-Stasis, any and all things are possible. If you want a legal battle, we’ll get into one. But we’re not asking right now for a lifetime. We have a need for her, and under contractual oblations, if we call, she must fulfill that obligation. Now . . .” Greg slid forth a piece of paper. “Because your wife was under the influence of a drug we created, we would like to place her through a serious of blood tests, ultrasounds and so forth. Nothing that will harm her or that baby. I would think, Lt. Col. Graison, since we had a hand in the pregnancy, you would really want to know that the pregnancy is . . . Normal?” He raised an eyebrow.