Chris spoke. “Scott and I have been coordinating our efforts to investigate Augustus Benford, his holdings, and his relationship with Roubal. The link to Roubal still doesn’t appear to be a strong one. And we found no digital communication between the two in the weeks that led up to Roubal’s untimely demise.”
“Our investigation,” Henderson picked up, “led us to several shell companies, one of which handles all business and transactions conducted by the research facility. Several months ago, the facility beefed up security. Corporate espionage is on the rise in the pharma industry, so they already had fairly decent security before. But now it’s so tight that you’d think every employee was carrying the nuclear football.”
Becca bit her lip. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It’s the president’s emergency satchel,” Henderson elaborated. “The president of the United States is always accompanied by a military aide who carries the case, which would enable the president to launch a nuclear attack while away from fixed command centers like the Situation Room or the Presidential Emergency Operations Center.”
“In other words,” Chris added, “security at that facility is even tighter than at network headquarters.”
Multiple whistles of awe filled the room.
The network did not skimp on security.
“I parked Rafe outside the facility,” Henderson continued.
“Who’s Rafe?” Sean asked.
Nick answered. “He’s an Immortal Guardian stationed in Texas. I’ve hunted with him many times.”
“According to Rafe,” Henderson said, “no cell phones or smart watches are allowed on the premises. Every employee received a photo ID tag and a personal code when hired. To get past the first level of security, they must show the guards their ID and enter the code into a touch screen after walking through a metal detector to ensure they aren’t carrying hidden phones or other recording and listening devices. They must then undergo a second security check that requires fingerprint scans, and they can’t leave without passing through the metal detector again. No one can take any work home with them.”
Sean frowned. “Is that normal?”
Henderson shrugged. “The fingerprint scans aren’t. And many pharma companies are laxer about employees taking work home with them. But if you’re in pharma and are onto something big like a cure for cancer, the last thing you’d want is for some employee to take a laptop containing twenty years of research with them to the airport and have someone use the airport’s public network hub to hack it and enable a competitor to come out with a cure six months later based on your research.”
“Or,” Chris added, “have an employee take his work home, absently toss some papers in the trash, and have the same thing happen after a competitor engages in a round of sneaky dumpster diving.”
Henderson nodded. “And bypassing the security protocols on the wireless routers used in most homes is easy for those in the know, providing access to all home computer systems that use it.”
“Some companies,” Chris went on, “will learn the names and home addresses of competitors’ employees for just those reasons.”
Most of those present looked as stunned as Sean felt upon hearing that. It was like something you’d see in a freaking James Bond movie.
Seth, David, and the other ancients seemed unsurprised.
Henderson reached into his satchel and drew out a stack of papers. “Rafe also believes there are soundproof rooms in parts of the building that boast the highest security and safety protocols. He said there were several instances in which conversations he listened to shut off abruptly when a door closed.”
Chris nodded. “The same way they do when network employees enter restrooms.” All restrooms at network headquarters in North Carolina were soundproofed to keep the vampires housed below from complaining about having to listen to employees evacuate their bladders and bowels all day.
Nicole frowned. “What kind of research do they usually do there? When they’re not hunting immortals, that is.”
Henderson glanced at Seth. “You want to take that one?”
He shook his head. “I was focused on those surrounding Marge.”
“Right. Well, Rafe skimmed through as many employee minds as he could. Their biggest project is an effective treatment for Alzheimer’s.”
“A treatment or a cure?” Nicole asked.
Henderson’s lips curled up in a cynical smile. “A treatment. Costly medication that patients will have to take every day for the rest of their lives will earn Benford far more money than a cure will.”
She frowned. “That sucks.”
“That’s business. Benford didn’t dive into the pharmaceutical industry out of the goodness of his heart. He’s in it for the money.”
“Why?” Sarah blurted. “He’s already a multibillionaire. What more could he possibly want that he doesn’t already have?”
Henderson shrugged. “The ability to brag about being the wealthiest man in the world.”
“And immortality,” Seth added. “Reed hand-delivered a vampire to them for experimentation. The vampire was told they would make him human again and had no idea what was in store for him.”
“That’s messed up,” Sean murmured.
“Yes, it is,” Seth agreed. “He was newly turned and fully lucid. But after just a few weeks in their care, he lost his sanity, which led them to believe the madness strikes so quickly that they must get their hands on an Immortal Guardian. Otherwise, any fountain of youth serum they concoct will turn their influential clients into bloodthirsty monsters who must be slain. The purpose is to lengthen their life spans, not shorten them. Reed also gave them the sedative that was used to capture Tessa.”
Sean caught Seth’s eye. “Do they know what happened to Reed, that he’s dead?”
“Gary, the second vampire who tried to nab Becca, told them an Immortal Guardian killed him. But Gary wasn’t playing with a full deck. He’d be lucid one moment and violently psychotic the next. According to their thoughts, most preferred to deal with TJ.”
“Who’s TJ?” Sean asked.
“The vampire who captured Tessa. The doctors prefer to deal with him now because they believe Gary killed Reed so he could reap more of the benefits.”
“What benefits?” Nicole asked.
“Reed told the lab that he and his crew would only hunt immortals if Benford compensated them for the risks they had to take. I believe he had lost touch with Gershom by this point and wanted a little financial security. The doctors working on the serum don’t know what fee the vampires demanded, only that Benford paid them weekly. They did, however, know that the vampires were promised a cash bonus of two million dollars upon delivery of an immortal and guaranteed a dose of the final serum once it’s developed.”
“How will that help them?” Krysta asked. “They’re already infected.”
Seth dipped his chin in a nod. “Yes, but the doctors told them the serum would banish the madness, their need for blood, and their photosensitivity while leaving them with all the perks of infection.”
Stunned silence gripped the room. No one moved or spoke for a long moment as they let the implications sink in.