Prototype

Reggie followed the directions to make it to Phil’s house and knocked strongly on the front door. She waited only a few seconds before beating on the door again. She was not patient and did not understand that people were not always on alert waiting for their door to be knocked at.

She found herself tempted to kick the door in and find the woman she was looking for, but Shelby advised her that it was not acceptable behavior. She sighed deeply, trying to use the little self control she did have to continue to wait.

The door opened and a beautiful woman stepped out, “Can I help you?”

“My name is Reggie, I work for… NexGen,” Reggie started. She could feel how awkward this was. She was delivering bad news and she was able to do it without blinking; she knew next to nothing of attachment and loss. She felt she was the wrong person for this particular job.

Felt…

“I have bad news about your husband, Phil,” Reggie continued.

“He left me, didn’t he?” the woman asked. Her arms were crossed and her jaw was tense; she was extremely unhappy. Her heart rate spiked at the mere mention of the man’s name. Reggie could hear the distinct change in heart rate; her senses were working harder to maintain their strength outside in the real field. Her senses were over-stimulated by ambient noise: cars driving by, loud music playing, people talking, and dogs barking.

“He died about an hour ago – he bled to death and his final request was that I come to you,” Reggie took the letter out of her boot and handed it to the woman.

“Oh my God,” the woman said, when she opened the letter. She held her hand to her mouth and sobbed so hard that her shoulders leaned forward. She sobbed with so much force she missed breaths and couldn’t look up.

“I thought he was having an affair,” she said finally. “Was it at least peaceful?”

Reggie became uneasy. What was she supposed to say? The man bled out; a slow process of knowing your death is on the way. He would have felt cold and in pain until he finally lost enough blood to stop living.

This woman needed comfort… not reality.

“Yes,” Reggie lied. She said nothing else.

“You’re really bad at lying,” the woman said with an uncomfortable laugh.

“I am not good with people,” Reggie admitted. “All I can say is… that I believe that he was intentionally killed.”

“Why?” the wife asked.

“I can’t say for certain, but I am going to look into it personally,” Reggie promised. “Do you know what work he was involved in at NexGen?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “He never talked about his work. That’s why I thought he was having an affair. At least now I know he wasn’t…”

She was obviously in great emotional pain, but she remained very clear-minded and helpful. “He worked ridiculous hours, and came home late and never seemed like he was happy…”

Reggie noticed his eyes were tired, his hair was thinned from exhaustion, and he smelled of large doses of caffeine.

She replayed her conversation with Paul, and tried to figure connections between the two seemingly unrelated individuals. It seemed Paul was more accurate than she gave him credit for.

“Reggie – wasn’t it?” the woman asked, pulling Reggie out of her thoughts.

“Thank you for the letter. I have faith you’ll bring who is responsible to justice,” Phil’s wife said before she disappeared into the house.

“Shelby,” Reggie started. “Can you find Nathan’s phone number and issue a phone call?”

“Yes, I most certainly can.”

“Will you notify Nathan I need to meet him?” Reggie asked. “I need someone from law enforcement on my side.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Reggie admitted.

Reggie planned on heading straight to the police department to find Nathan when the late Phil’s house door opened and out stepped the wife once again.

“Oh good, you’re still here,” the woman said.

“Yes ma’am?” Reggie inquired.

“This letter is just as much for you as for me,” the wife said, handing Reggie one page of the letter he wrote to her.

Reggie began to read a paragraph from the letter Phil wrote.

I stumbled onto something of significance; NexGen has been conducting genetic experimentation. They’ve been testing with ova that were all donated by one woman; the woman has been kept in a coma exclusively for ovum harvesting. Her name is sealed, but she has ties to the mysterious Project Bathos and Sample Omega. I’m not sure of the connections yet, but I am going to investigate as far as I can.

You need to go to the authorities and tell them they need to launch an investigation. Once they find that woman in a coma – where she’s been for roughly twenty years – they’ll have plenty of evidence to do a more thorough investigation and nail Granat and NexGen for what they’re doing.

I’ve learned where they’re keeping Sample Omega. I hope to find her. I doubt she knows what they’ve done to her…

“Did you know about this?” Phil’s wife asked.

“I do now,” Reggie said, putting the pieces together in her mind

“Paul’s suspicions of Granat were justified as well as confirmed,” Reggie told herself.

“You’re not going to let him get away with this, are you?” she asked.

“No,” Reggie knew what she must do next.

Reggie turned and headed toward the car that was waiting to take her back to Granat, to the man who decided to kill Paul’s mother. She arrived at the security officer, grabbed him by his wrist, twisted it violently behind him, breaking his arm, and she pressed him harshly against the car.

“Tell Granat I know he set Phil up to die,” Reggie said before crashing his head against the car, rendering him unconscious.

With a huff of anger, Reggie rushed into town.

Reggie would be on her own from here on out.

But that decision was the right one.