Chapter 8
Eugene returned to Dr. Terzini’s laboratory. His insides still trilled from his hunt. Ivanov and his associates had proved no match for him. His speed and power was unsurpassed. Despite vanquishing his prey with ease, he was exhilarated, energized.
Equipped with numerous canisters of highly flammable lab materials, Eugene intended to douse the entire bunker and set it afire with Terzini still inside. Not the Dr. Terzini, the geneticist who had created him, though. The Dr. Terzini that would die in the laboratory fire was a clone.
The clone did not have altered DNA as Eugene and Gabriel did. There had not been any gene enhancement.
The replica was not educated as Terzini was. He did not perform experiments or conduct research. To Eugene’s knowledge, the duplicate Dr. Terzini was not even capable of speech. Rather, the clone existed as an empty vessel that spent his waking hours confined to a small cell in the laboratory.
The Terzini clone had one purpose. He was created to die in the laboratory fire. Retaining genetic material identical to his creator, the demise of the clone provided Dr. Terzini with a unique opportunity; the world, and more specifically, the Russian Mob, would believe him dead.
Dr. Terzini had detailed to Eugene that in order to be exonerated from all the debt he had incurred with the mob and the certain death that would follow if that debt were not paid, it was imperative that he create the illusion of permanent disappearance. He’d made it clear to Eugene that fleeing the country was not possible, that he would be tracked down and killed. The only acceptable way for him to withdraw without repercussion would be to die. Eugene would simulate his maker’s death.
But before the lab would burn and the Terzini clone perished, Eugene had needed to assassinate Ivanov and his men.
His creator viewed the death of Ivanov and his guards as an essential phase of the plan. Their deaths had been as vital as the creation of the empty sleeve that appeared to have housed a nuclear warhead and occupied a large section of his lab. They were all components of an elaborate illusion, that Terzini had, in fact, spent their resources on the intended project–a nuclear warhead–and died at the hands of an enemy faction.
Eugene believed Terzini’s plan to be flawless. It did not leave any loose ends. To the Russian mafia, Terzini’s death and the alleged theft of the nuclear warhead, together with the slaughter of Dmitri Ivanov and his men, would appear to be the actions of a rival organization. The Russians would exhaust innumerable hours and manpower scouring the Earth for the phantom group.
In death, Dr. Franklin Terzini would be absolved of all debt, he would not have to flee and live the life of a fugitive. His falsified demise also released him from regulations that burdened researchers in the United States.
Additionally, Terzini would have unrestricted access to his inheritance that had been transferred incrementally over his years on the Kamchatka Peninsula to numbered Swiss bank accounts. Eugene revered his maker’s vast intelligence, his rigid adherence to the nature of his work and meticulous attention to every detail of his plan. He respected Terzini’s genius.
As Eugene doused the lab, he paused and inhaled the noxious fumes. One last task remained at hand.
A portal lay ahead at the far end of the laboratory. Eugene surveyed the space before approaching the entrance. He hesitated a moment then opened the wooden door that separated the Terzini clone from the rest of the lab. After removing his dark lenses, he crossed the threshold and stepped into the replica’s tiny living quarters.
Once inside, Eugene filled the room with his extraordinary size. Furnished sparsely with a metal-framed cot and a three-drawer side table, the Terzini clone sat on the makeshift bed and looked up at Eugene.
Eugene noticed how the clone did not react at the sight of him as others did. Instead, he gave a lopsided grin. Smiling, the bespectacled twin looked frail and childlike. His slight build and smooth face gave him a serene and youthful appearance.
Eugene had been instructed to allow for the clone to burn to death in the fire. Yet as he looked at the small figure in front of him, Eugene was overcome with confusion. The face of the clone was that of his maker.
Loyalty clouded his judgment. Incinerating the Terzini clone seemed unwarranted. He simply could not allow Terzini to perish in such a manner.
Instead, Eugene seized the beaming mute’s face in his hand. Pinching his nose and covering his mouth simultaneously, Eugene began to smother him.
The clone did not struggle or fight. He accepted his fate and allowed life to escape him.
Eugene removed his hand from the duplicate’s face. His lifeless form fell against the wall behind his cot.
Loyalty and mercy were not feelings Eugene was accustomed to having. He became agitated.
Circling the lab, he stalked equipment that enabled his creation. Breathing heavily through bared teeth, his chest heaved and his mind flooded with thoughts of destruction.
Eugene began thrashing his balled fists. He battered the equipment in the lab, hammering computer screens and monitors, anything that stood in his way.
Rage coursed through his body.
Trembling, he turned to face the far corner of the facility. There stood the tank that served as a surrogate womb to genetically cloned embryos created by Dr. Franklin Terzini. It was the very vessel that bore he and Gabriel and the Terzini clone.
The large tubular receptacle sustained the harvested eggs and donated sperm of unsuspecting women and men that would be modified by his maker. It nourished and supported the accelerated growth of the manufactured humans.
Erupting, Eugene pounded the tank. As he drummed on the steel walls, large indentations formed. The metal buckled under the assault. Frenzied, Eugene exhausted himself leaving in his wake a formerly cylindrical container U-shaped.
Sweating profusely and still panting through bared teeth, Eugene struck the first match. The highly flammable chemicals ignited immediately. The gases produced glowed in an array of colors, blue then blue-green, before assuming the light yellow-orange of typical fires.
Dr. Terzini’s laboratory and his clone blazed. Flames enveloped the destroyed computers, microscopes and centrifugal equipment before encircling the U-shaped development tank.
The fire raged as Eugene stepped out of the laboratory through a steel door. The door opened to a narrow, concrete staircase that traversed ten feet of earth to the surface. As Eugene exited, he did not bother replacing the large, white rectangular piece of plastic that concealed the entrance, blending it seamlessly into the vast snow-covered landscape. Without its covering, the charcoal entryway was easily visible. The Russians would certainly find the charred facility in search of Terzini and their money. Eugene was confident they would locate everything they were intended to discover.
Eugene, above ground and a safe distance from the underground facility, looked skyward. Dark-gray clouds moved quickly, crowding out the white expanse, their tattered and ragged shapes assembled with haste, portended. The wind did not stir, yet the great and grim billows advanced, threatened with moisture. Snow would fall soon; Eugene could smell it in the air. The snowfall would conceal his tracks but not the smoldering metal door. It would stand out against the silvery terrain.
Satisfied that his maker’s plan was executed, he replaced his dark lenses and walked toward his Hummer. Once the evening grew darker, he would proceed to the docks in search of a vessel traveling to America. Eugene would then reunite with his maker.