Ronda Read online

  Regularly the siren would blow warning of a fire strike or mortar attack, often feeling safer on a recon mission in the jungle, than hearing the blare of the siren, and running for cover to the nearest bunker, hoping it wouldn’t be a direct hit.

  It was during a fire strike when Jake suddenly felt himself being hurtled several feet through the air, yet, he didn’t recall ever hitting the ground. As he lay there chaos surrounded him. Grimacing in pain his mind reeled, making it difficult for him to focus. And though the sound of the ammo being fired was frighteningly loud, all he could hear was a loud, shrill ringing in his ears. As his eyes began to focus, he turned on his side to see several bodies lying around him. And a few feet in the distance not far from where he lay, was a disembodied leg. Instantly he knew he had to get to safety.

  Attempting to get up, his body rigged with pain he couldn’t find his balance. Unable to stand he looked down in shock, realizing the leg lying a few feet away was his own. Now sitting in a pool of blood, he sat helpless. An easy target. His body grew cold and began to shiver uncontrollably as he began to go into shock. His heart was racing, and the pain below his knee excruciating. Suddenly, Thomas was there as ammo was fired from every direction, risking his life as he pulled Jake up and over his shoulder and took him to safety.

  Soon after, Jake received a medical discharge and was bound for home to “Texas,” where he was born and raised on a three thousand acre ranch. A cowboy at heart.

  Thomas was born and raised in “East Hampton,” the son of a heart surgeon.

  Opposites by nature, they managed to bring the best of what each had to offer in friendship, and created a brotherly bond.

  Thomas’s time spent in Vietnam helped to show him his purpose in life. And determined, he swore if there was a way he could help ease the tragic and unnecessary suffering of those who were made lame and broken he would find it. Even if it took him his lifetime trying. “If anybody could do it you’re the man for the job, and I’ll be there to see it. And that’s a promise.” Jake told him in a letter, encouraging in him hope, a reason to make it through alive and sane from the ugliness that surrounded him.

  Ultimately, Thomas returned home from Vietnam alive and well, but for the scars it left. The kind that no one can see. With their eyes anyway. Except for those closest to him, who might sometimes catch a glimpse when the memories haunted him. Like dark clouds that move overhead and stay for a while, and then move on. It was the clouds that moved in Thomas, urging him forward to continue to hold to his promise, and do what he could to ease the unnecessary suffering of so many.

  He and Jake kept in touch after Vietnam, then parted ways for a short time until fate brought them together again to make good on their promises.

  As it was, after Vietnam Professor Bierce had obtained his Phd, and Doctorate in science. And now, highly respected among his colleagues as a professor of science, specializing in physiology and synthetic biology, he’s the first in his field to perfect the method for 3 d bio printed organs for transplantation.

  To date, the company is “Raai Research Labs,” (Robotics and Artificial Intelligence.) After Jake’s departure from the company Professor Bierce moved on, specializing in producing state of the art robotic design and artificial intelligence for home service, and work, foreseeing a competitive market for artificial intelligence as a necessity in the home and work place.

  Although curiously within the past few years, he had turned his focus towards experimental research regarding the brain and central nervous system. Conducting private research on his own. Thus, his scientific breakthrough, yet unknown to the public, made him the first to discover the method for transplanting the human brain, and bio printed human cloned organs, into an humanoid structure that looks and functions fully as human. Although not ready to expose this new viable form of humanoid to the science community, let alone the world, all research data was encrypted onto a computer chip. Needless to say, if it were to get into the wrong hands there’s no telling how far one could use it to their advantage.

  Ronda could feel the tension in Mr. Bierce’s office. Although she couldn’t make out what was being said word for word, the tone in Mr. Bierce’s voice was unmistakable. She now realized that before today she had never seen him upset or heard him speak crossly. Generally, she found him to be a man of self control, although quite serious, and more so now and with good reason that his father was in the hospital.

  In his early thirties he’s a solemn and contemplative man. Tall with ash brown hair, and dark shiny green eyes that often remind Ronda of a woodsy green forest when the sunlight filters through the trees. Neat and clean shaven, a handsome man to say the least. But it wasn’t his looks that set him apart. It was his manner. He had a charm all his own. And when he spoke he was always clear, decisive and straightforward yet never unkind. Ronda saw in him a man of integrity.

  Since she began working at “Raai Labs,” he had managed to remain single. Not a big surprise since he didn’t date much from what Ronda could gather of his comings and goings, which caused her to often think he used work as a kind of escape from life. If anyone fit the cliche, “he’s married to his work” it was Dale Bierce she often thought.

  And although he has an apartment in the city, he sometimes occupies a studio flat from time to time down at the farthest end of the corridor, which was once one of several conference rooms before his father Professor Bierce had it completely renovated, long before she joined the company. These days, Dale Bierce will sometimes take refuge there for those times when the work days are long, and it’s necessary to stay late. And on those rare occasion when he doesn’t feel like working from the office, yet can be near should an emergency arise, which was rare.

  And when the offices on the third floor were being repainted Ronda too spent time working from his office in the studio. Planning and scheduling business meetings, reviewing statements, and setting Mr. Bierce’s schedule. And much like the state of the art building it’s located in, the studio is clean, and modern, with extra large windows and minimalist decor that speaks of high class and good taste right down to the labs on the first and second levels, with the latest equipment and of the highest quality.

  Shaken from her thoughts, Ronda sat very still, phone still in hand, mid air, as she listened for what she was certain was someone yelling or screaming. She slowly placed the phone down as she listened. “Could I have imagined it?” she asked herself. Then taken by surprise she heard a gun shot fired. More yelling ensued, along with a laud, shrill scream. Instantly overcome with fright, her heart began to race. “On the ground and you won’t get hurt!” she heard a man shout from down the left wing corridor. She jumped up from her chair as two staff members poked their heads out of their offices to see what was happening, then quickly and nervously ducked back in behind the doors for safety when they heard footsteps coming from the stairwell. She knew she had to run. But where? She panicked.

  Hearing the commotion, Dale and Mr Cummings ran out of the office, prompting Ronda to run towards them, ready to run into Bierce’s office. Quickly grabbing her arm he stopped her in her tracks. “This way! We have to hurry!” Dale said sternly. The three ran down the right wing corridor. Mr. Cummings and Ronda looking back as they heard the voices becoming louder. Cummings ducked away into the nearest door, Ronda stopped, ready to follow. Without hesitating Dale urged her forward as he pulled her arm. “Keep moving!” he said. Soon they reached the end of the corridor, and before Ronda realized where they were, she was standing in front of the studio, where once inside Dale bolted the door.

  “Follow me!” he said anxiously as he ran across the living room to his desk, and quickly pulled out a gun, and grabbing Ronda’s arm, ran to the farthest wall, where his fingers quickly pressed a few buttons on a key pad that she had thought was a thermostat. Then, like something she had only seen in movies, he pulled open the floor mirror as if it was a door. “Quick!” he said, pushing her in front of him, then he pulled the mirror back, closing it beh
ind them. Once inside, she realized that the entrance to the room she had just entered was hidden behind what appeared to be nothing more than a large floor mirror. Feeling stunned and frightened, she tried to catch her breath.

  “What’s happening?” she asked nervously, her voice shaking. “Who are those men?” Dale could see the fear and confusion in her eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” he replied calmly, “we’re safe here. We’ll wait till it dies down.”

  She new by now, that this was his usual his way. To remain calm, never showing much emotion, regardless the circumstances.

  3

  The Room

  Cummings stood with his back pressed against the wall. His heart was racing as he tried desperately to control his heavy breathing while the noise continued within close range of where he was hiding. He had found refuge in a small storage closet that kept office supplies. It was dark as he hid behind several large boxes, out of sight. Somewhat surprised that Maynard sent his men, and believing they were there for him, he was fearful that Maynard believed he fell short on his part of their deal, as he hadn’t yet delivered to Maynard what he had promised. He never would have guessed that what he had told Dale just moments earlier would prove true. And at the moment, he wished he had never gotten involved with Maynard.

  Hearing the turn of the door knob, his body stiffened as he held his breath. Suddenly the door sprang open as a man wearing a ski mask and sunglasses stood outside the doorway with his gun pointed straight ahead. He was still, and silent, his eyes scanned the darkness in front of him, and he listened for the slightest sound. Then slowly he lowered his gun halfway before he turned, and continued down the hallway where his two accomplices had made their way ahead of him towards the end of the corridor, currently in the process of kicking down the door to the studio.

  Cummings let out a quiet sigh of relief. His forehead sweating, he instinctively brought his arm up and patted it with the back of his forearm. And although the noise died down some, he wasn’t willing to take any risks and decided to remain where he was for a while, at least until he couldn’t hear anything long enough to suspect it was over. He was a cautious man, and as Professor Bierce’s lawyer and loyal friend, he took himself very seriously. Professor Bierce would often call him ‘his right hand man,” as he knew better than anyone the ins and outs of “Raai Labs.” And after close to ten years, he had come to think of the Professor, his friend and confidant, and vice versa. Until recently.

  As Ronda’s eyes scanned the room, she saw a desk where Dale had placed the gun, a floor lamp, a chair, and some boxes filled with miscellaneous papers. And next to an old file cabinet was a couple of older computers and monitors sitting randomly on the floor.

  Bringing a computer to the desk he began hooking it up. She watched as his fingers played with the keyboard, then she stepped closer. Now standing behind him, she frowned curiously.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “As you know,” he replied, “the security code for the cameras that monitor the floors is universal.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s the same on every computer and major phone device in the building.”

  “Of coarse.” Ronda said. “So you’re saying we’re able to surveil what’s happening from the monitor?”

  “That’s right.” he replied. “Come on!” Dale said, anxiously as static and waves appeared on the screen. He waited.

  “You can contact the police.”

  “Not quite, but believe me somebody will — if they haven’t already.”

  “A moment later several frames came into view. The labs on the second floor, the office area, the large entrance lobby, and the studio adjoined to the room from where they were .

  “That’s more like it!” Dale said. “Interestingly enough, they haven’t entered the labs.” Dale said, curiously.

  “Why would they care about the labs?” Ronda thought as she let her fear get the best of her. Certain they were terrorists, and were there to hold everyone hostage or blow up the building. Or both.

  “The labs system is always armed,” Dale said, before she could ask, “so they need to enter the code to disarm the alarms before entering.”

  “So you’re saying if they tried to enter, the alarm would have been activated and every computer and major phone device in the building would have been signaled.” Ronda said.

  “Exactly.”

  “And what makes that so interesting?”

  “Well, if they’re here for what I suspect they’re here for, I would assume the labs would be the first place they’d want to search. It’s were research data is stored.”

  Suddenly two men barged through the door of the studio and began searching rigorously. Ronda tensed as she watched them move about.

  “They’re just outside this room.” she said quietly.

  Dale brought his finger to his mouth. “Shh” He listened for the sound of the men as they searched the studio. It was low and muffled. “Don’t worry, just be still, and keep your voice low. They can’t hear you any better than you can hear them, and they’re not exactly trying to be quiet. They’ll never know we’re here. not with these walls, they were built for eliminating sound.” he said, in an effort to keep her from panicking.

  Unless they find their way in.” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  “That’s unlikely, unless they know the room exist. Which I’m sure they don’t.”

  Her eyes scanned the room again. “Why exactly is this room here?” she asked, keeping her voice low as she spoke.

  Dale’s eyes still focused on the monitor screen, he replied. “The room itself already existed as part of the conference room before it was renovated.

  “For what purpose?”

  “Safety I imagine. Some form of shelter is my best guess.”

  “Seems a bit eccentric.”

  “Yet it’s proving to be very handy at the moment isn’t it?”

  Are others aware of this room?” Ronda asked curiously.

  “Only the few who already knew it was here, other than that, as far as I know, no, no one. But you.” he said, looking up at her briefly then back at the monitor.

  Together they watched the men cover the studio. Checking closets, the restroom, even under the bed. Ronda wanted to know why. And apparently Dale knew, yet he hadn’t offered an explanation.

  “Mr. Bierce,” she said, trying to keep her voice low. “I want to know what’s going on here. Who are those men, and what is it they’re after?” Taking his eyes from the monitor, he looked at her.

  “Since it doesn’t involve you Ronda, you have nothing to worry about. As far as what they’re searching for, it’s best for your own sake that you don’t know.

  “Doesn’t involve me?” she said curtly, catching herself as her voice raised. “There are men out there with guns searching for who knows what.” she said, lowering her voice. “And I’m here in this room hiding from them. I’d say it very much involves me. Especially when it feels my life is in danger. And not only do I have a right to know why my life is in danger, but I believe you have an obligation to tell me.”

  Dale knew she was right. She deserved an explanation. He looked at her solemnly, and as often happened, was taken back by the intense look in her eyes. He had realised long ago, that Ronda was determined to get to the matter of things. It’s one of the things he appreciated in her as his executive secretary. She was the best secretary he’s had. Punctual, and prepared to work overtime whenever necessary. In two and a half years she never missed a day. And he had never known anyone besides himself, not to miss a day of work for some reason or other.

  And there was something unusually sincere, and direct about her approach that gave him reason to trust her opinions and ideas. She wasn’t coy or flirtatious, although that didn’t stop some of the guys from hanging around her desk, and try as they would, they were soon shot down by her casual, not interested attitude. And afterwards, it was nothing more than the typical water cooler chat. Yet
, she always had a smile and a friendly greeting for anyone who walked into the office.

  He often wondered, what made her so self disciplined. And yet at times he sensed a fragility about her, and he couldn’t help but pick up on the contradiction. She wasn’t exactly the athletic type. Feminine, soft, and fragile to look at, she sometimes reminded him of a porcelain doll. Almost otherworldly. And when she spoke, her voice reminded him of the sound of a wine glass when tapped with a spoon. Clear and harmonious, evenly pitched. Yet she had a strength of character, and always spoke her mind. Nothing, it seemed could intimidate her. She was young, and beautiful, intelligent and well spoken. Of course not unlike a lot of the women who work at “Raai labs.” But to him, they were a far cry from where she stood. Because although her beauty captivated him, he sensed something deeper, something real, yet unreachable. For him anyway, he thought. Looking into her large amber eyes with specks of green, that looked back into his intensely, he replied quietly.

  “Alright look,” he sighed, “to be frank, those men are after research data. More to the point, they’re out to steal it. And as you can see they mean to find it.”

  “Your father’s research?” she asked, frowning in disbelief.

  “That’s right.”

  “But why this, I mean, I’m sure they’re clever enough to hack into his files.”

  “I can only imagine that’s how they found out about the research in the first place.” Dale said.

  “I’m afraid I’m not following.”

  “You see the thing is, what they want, the research data, isn’t stored on any computer file. It’s encrypted onto a data chip.