Chapter Nineteen
Secret meeting
In the sixth level basement hallway Breen, Zee, and Bakman wait for Woll the Clone dressed in black tunics. Five long minutes past two in the morning they wait in the dim corridor, lighted only by small emergency lights, wondering if Woll will show.
An impatient Bakman whispers, "We might just as well go. He’s five minutes late."
Zee puts her hand on his arm, squeezes gently to alert and silence him.
Both set of eyes turn toward the distant elevator panel’s sudden blinking on of a yellow light. The elevator is in service. A car will stop on their floor for the red light blinks on. When the elevator door slides open three men wearing dark brown tunics suddenly appear. All three stand quietly looking furtively around. Two of the men have a hand behind their backs as they step out to stare at the group of three people dressed in black down at the end of the dim hall.
Bakman holds up a copy of The History of New England. It was the agreed upon signal. All three men walk slowly down the hall toward the book. When they stop in front of him, Bakman hands the book to Woll. Points at himself and whispers, "Bakman,” points at each of the others whispering, "Breen," and "Zee."
The group’s leader only offers, “Woll.” He is a tall wiry built man with wide strong-looking shoulders and narrow hips promising strength and endurance. Woll the Clone speaks in a soft calm voice. It is obvious that he is in charge and Woll makes no effort to introduce either of his two bodyguards.
Bakman runs his card down a slot by the Service Closet door. It opens. He motions all of them into what looks like an ordinary janitor supply closet. Inside, Bakman lifts on a shelf a black bottle of cleaner spray and the floor goes down to the secret seventh floor. The lower door opens after another wave of his card and they all walk out into a wide entry hallway area to a secret cloning center. Bakman motions for them to follow him, one of Woll’s bodyguards’ turns his head when he hears the elevator lift behind them, and Bakman leads them into the conference room.
Inside, Bakman motions toward chairs behind a long table and speaks loudly, "Good to see you again, Woll. Now, we can talk. No wire. No recorders. No hidden double balls. This is our little secret place."
With a smile Bakman tosses the plastic card that had just opened the door to the secret seventh basement floor down in front of Woll the Clone saying, "You may need it. We start trusting each other today. When you work for us, the price is a book a job. Each book has a number to a different account worth one million. Traud told you what we want. We want four teams, three of each. One team does the job, robs a fertility lab. A second team will specialize in transferring merchandise into new containers. The old ones might have tracers in them—discard them carefully. The third team stores merchandise until it can be transported. The fourth team transports the containers here. We want your teams to scatter out and work over a wide area. Start out as far as you dare. When things get hot for us, and they will get hot, we will need to work the closer in cities that we know more about.”
Pausing a moment for questions, hears none, and Bakman continues. “We want frozen in separate nitrogen containers female eggs and male sperm. We pay a book a job. You might even subcontract, but that is risky. When you have some to send, tell us on the frequency written on this piece of paper,” and Bakman slides a sheet of paper toward Woll, “in old Morse code. Send "And," three times, wait two or three seconds and send it once more. We have a receiver always tuned to this frequency and an operator will always be on duty—day or night. If it is safe, we will reply with "And" twice, wait a count of ten, and send "And" twice more. If, "And" is ever sent only once by you or us it means trouble—scatter. Sent three times it means a delivery is to be expected. Sent four times we, you or us, needs an emergency meeting. This place will have a full crew here during the day. Usually after midnight, this place has only a skeleton staff. Traud or one of us will meet you here and you deliver the merchandised here or meet with us. We pay in advance. That book in your hand means we want one container."
Woll the Clone looked at them and at the book in front of him. Puts the book in his pocket and waits for he knows there is more. All Woll did was nod and say softly, "Okay. You ordered one shipment of one container from on Fertility Lab."
"No," Bakman replies as he turns around and walks to the corner of the room for a cardboard box. He bends, slips his hands under a heavy box to protect against a possible weak bottom, and carries it back to the table. Bakman slides the box across to Woll the Clone. Only then does Bakman continues, "Seventeen more collection orders, an order of eighteen containers. Half-female eggs and half-male sperm containers, at least nine of each delivered to us. We are not in a rush. We want it done and done well."
For the first time Woll the Clone smiles for eighteen million was a very, very good month’s work, "Send "And" . . . three times, wait, and send it again three more times . . . right."
"Right . . . Breen is my head of security, Traud is our front man, and Zee is my personal bodyguard."
"Anything else my boys can do for you?" Woll the Clone asked suddenly grinning for the first time for business was good.
"Yes, there is. From time-to-time, we will need to round up informers. No killing. You gather up the whole family for one book. We will help you if we can. I'll even go with you, if I have time. We pay another book to transport that family to a secret location in the Rocky Mountains. After all this is over, we release them. No one dies. They still continue to get paid, be given an excellent rating recommendation, and each family will be given a book upon release if they promise to be reluctant witnesses for the law." When Bakman finishes he slides a piece of paper across the table telling about the Silo, its location in the Rocky Mountains, and contact method.
A book is lying on the table in front of Bakman and his fingers pushed it across to Woll who puts on the box.
“This one is to pay your administrative costs for setting up this second part of the operation,” Bakman tells Woll who nods.
"I'll burn it after I've memorized the information," Woll promises lifting the paper and sliding it into his pocket.
"The only other thing I've might have missed is why we use the word "And," because it’s DNA backwards. Arrange a way to receive our "And" signal. If either one of us wants to have an emergency meet we will send "And" four times, wait a ten count, and repeat it two more times. Four signals means you meet us here the next night at this time to collect or transport or talk. Sent and repeated four times by either of us means we want an emergency meeting as soon as possible. And I repeat, sent just once by either of us will mean trouble . . . scatter and lay low."
Then to signal he is finished, Bakman nods, leans over the table, and holds out his hand. Woll the Clone points at the box, pats his book in his pocket, picks up the book on the table, and shakes Bakman’s hand. One of his bodyguards lifts the box. Everyone moves quickly back to the one floor elevator, Woll slides his card down the slot and the elevator comes down. They all step into the center and the floor rises.
When they are standing in the Service Closet again on the basement’s sixth floor, Bakman touches the top of the closet screen and a fisheye 180 degree view of the hallway outside flashes on. The hallway was empty; they all step out of the Service Closet and walk to the elevator. Breen pushes at the elevator panel. When the doors open Woll the Clone and his men step inside. The door closes and Breen, Bakman, and Zee wait for the next car.
After nearly two minutes, an impatient Breen pushes the elevator panel repeatedly hoping to speed up the car’s return trip, "I think it went well?"
Staring at the yellow light of a car in-service thinking about the meeting they had just attended Bakman nods in agreement, and Zee turns her back on them to stare back down the empty hallway protecting their backs while they wait.