Jian waved a hand dismissively. I’m fine, the gesture said, then she returned to her work.
Sara moved across the aisle to scratch the nose of a cow with an ear tag that read A-34. It was a big cow. Hell, they all were big. Sara stood five-foot-ten, and if the cows had their heads up they could look her right in the eye. Thirty-four had an all-white head save for a black eyepatch on the right side. She reminded Sara of that dog “Petey” from the old Little Rascals movies. She scratched the big, bony part of its nose. The cow’s eyes narrowed in pleasure. It pushed into her hand, its neck so strong and head so big it made Sara stumble backward.
“Hey, take it easy, old girl,” Sara said with a laugh. “Don’t go getting greedy on me now.”
Tim looked up from his current patient. “Do you fucking mind? We’re trying to work here.”
Sara felt like she’d been slapped. She just wanted to say hello. Before she could respond, Jian shuffled out of stall twenty-five and scowled at Tim.
“Sara can go anywhere she wants,” Jian said in a cold tone. “You just keep your mouth shut or I will shut it for you.”
Tim blinked slowly. If Sara hadn’t known better, she would have sworn Feely was drunk.
“Well,” Tim said. “Look who had her Cocoa Puffs this morning.”
Jian’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“Means you’re koo-koo,” Tim said. “I’ll translate into English for you. You’re fucking crazy.”
“Feely!” Rhumkorrf snapped. “That will be quite enough of that.”
“Back off,” Tim said. “I’ve had about enough of your little Nazi mouth.”
Rhumkorrf paused, opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. “Are you threatening me with physical violence?”
Tim shook his head. “No, I said I’ve had about enough of your Nazi mouth. That’s a statement of preference. But I also want to put my foot so far up your ass you can smell my toes. That, to be clear, is a threat of physical violence.”
Rhumkorrf blinked. Tim stared. Jian and Sara looked back and forth between them. Sara had to do something to get rid of this tension.
“Jian, give me some paper,” Sara said. Jian paused for a second, then did as she was asked. Sara grabbed a black permanent marker and wrote something down on the paper.
Jian read it, then covered her mouth with her hand to try and hide a giggle. She grabbed a roll of Scotch tape, pulled out a strip, and taped the paper to the stall. Written on it in neat, black block letters were the words MOLLY MCBUTTER.
“They need names,” Sara said. “What kind of a name is thirty-four? From now on this one is Molly McButter.”
Rhumkorrf started to protest, but Jian grabbed the marker and another sheet of paper. With almost childlike glee, she wrote down a name and taped it to cage forty-three. That cage held a cow with an all-white head, the only all-white head in the herd, who was now apparently named BETTY.
Rhumkorrf sighed, then shrugged. “All right. I suppose this is harmless.”
“It’s retarded,” Tim said. “That’s what it is.”
Sara gave him a pleading look. He stared back, then rolled his eyes a little. “Retarded, that is, unless you name one Sir Moos-a-Lot. Then we’re all good in the hood.”
Jian grabbed another piece of paper. “How you spell moozalot?”
Sara smiled and winked at Tim. He smiled back, then told Jian how to spell it.
NOVEMBER 20: BLOWTORCH
Implantation +11 Days
“WHAT DO YOU mean, he’s here?”
His secretary repeated her message. Danté Paglione’s stomach dropped again, even further than it had the first time. “Send Magnus to my office, now.”
Danté leaned back in his chair. His palms slid in circles on the cool marble desktop. This was bad.
Magnus’s office was next door. He arrived first, his solid form sliding through the door without a sound. “You beckoned, O master?”
“It’s Fischer,” Danté said. “He’s here.”
Magnus stopped and stared. He seemed to process the information for a second, then shrugged. “He could have called first, but then I’m guessing you wouldn’t have been in a hurry to set up a meeting. Relax, brother, we can deal with this.”
Magnus sat in one of the two chairs opposite the desk. How could he be so damn calm?
“Did Farm Girl call you?” Danté said. “Why wouldn’t she warn us Fischer was coming?”
“She would have, if she’d known,” Magnus said. “Fischer must have stopped telling people where he’s going. He knows someone is picking off his signals, so he’s stopped sending signals.”
“What else could he have done we don’t know about?”
Magnus shrugged. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
Seconds later, Colonel Paul Fischer walked through the door. He wasn’t alone. Two men in Canadian Army uniforms accompanied him, as did three other men wearing civilian suits. Fischer’s hat was under one arm. His other hand carried a leather satchel with an open top.
“Colonel Fischer, this is unacceptable,” Danté said. “If you’re here to continue your witch hunt against Genada, I assure you our lawyers will have a field day.”
“I won’t be long,” Fischer said. “In fact, let’s get right down to business. Where are Claus Rhumkorrf, Liu Jian Dan, Tim Feely and Patrick James Colding?”
“In hiding,” Magnus said. “Seems some ecoterrorists want to kill them. We’ve got to protect our people.”
Fischer stared down at Magnus. “Protect them? Like you protected Erika Hoel?”
“Sad, that,” Magnus said. “We saved four out of five. Wouldn’t you Americans describe that as batting eight hundred?”
“Magnus,” Danté said. “Let me handle this.”
Magnus nodded, but kept his eyes fixed on Fischer. Fischer turned back to face the older Paglione brother.
“Colonel,” Danté said, “please leave.”
“Let me spell this out first,” Fischer said. “The Canadian government, the United States government and several other governments are cooperating to freeze Genada’s assets.”
Danté’s stomach flip-flopped, and he felt that now all-too-familiar pinching in his chest. He’d known this day might come. “You don’t have that kind of international pull, Fischer. You can’t freeze our assets.”
“Not all of them,” Fischer said. “Switzerland and the Cayman Islands are still in process, but that will be taken care of by the end of the day. And you’re wrong. After the Novozyme incident, I do have that much international pull. Even with the Chinese.”
Fischer let that last word hang in the air. Danté’s mouth felt dry.
“I’m not much of a talker, Danté, so I’ll make it simple. We know you’re continuing research that potentially threatens all of humanity. You thought you could keep it going while the G8 demands you shut it down. You’re known for your smart business decisions, but that one is just stupid.”
Magnus leaned forward. “Are you calling my brother stupid?”
“How perceptive of you,” Fischer said. “The Canadian government is investigating the murder of Erika Hoel. Officially, Rhumkorrf, Feely, Colding and Liu Jian Dan are the primary suspects. They are all wanted for multiple murders.”
Danté looked at Magnus, then back to Fischer. “Multiple? What the hell are you talking about?”
Fischer reached into his leather satchel and pulled out a manila folder, which he placed on Danté’s desk. “Russian authorities identified the body of a Jane Doe with DNA matching that of a missing woman. That missing woman was Galina Poriskova, former employee of Genada. Although her remains were heavily decomposed, the Russians said she had been burned badly by an intense flame. A blowtorch, probably. They know this because the bones were burned in some places. Also, her right pinkie had been cut off. Galina Poriskova was going to shut Genada down, Danté, but she was tortured to death. Now, you and I both know who did that, but Jian, Rhumkorrf and Colding are the official suspects. Genada’s assets are frozen because, as your brother just admitted, you are now harboring those suspects.”