"Love you too."
His words still sent a rush of joy to her system. It was a struggle at times to blend their two cultures. In the end she was happier than she'd ever imagined she could be. She had a career she loved, one that filled her with purpose and allowed her to help others and make a difference. It was her dream growing up. Then a man from the stars had shown her she could also be a wife, and now she was soon to be a mother. She was blessed to have it all, and once Tavel was off the streets she could actually enjoy it.
Twenty minutes later she was placing copies of the new evidence in a stack on the desk in the front of the room. The traveling cardboard dispenser full of coffee and the set of twenty-four assorted doughnuts were set on a table, ready to go. Please let this be the break we're looking for. Zasha picked up one of the packets and walked over to one of the numerous rolling white boards, hoping something would spark. Her eyes scanned the information. Come on, where’s the pattern?
"Hey Johnson, why the big pow wow?"
Zasha turned and smiled at Richards.
"Break in the case, just came through last night, we have a motive." She picked up a packet and handed it to him.
"Other than crazy, you mean?" he asked.
"Yep, which is a relief because crazy has no rhyme or reason. This guy actually does."
"Jesus Christ, genetic experiments? This is straight out of a comic book," Richards muttered. His gaze scanned the paper. His blue eyes grew a bit wider with every line he read.
"So he's what—trying to create the perfect donor?"
"That's what we think. It's the only thing that fits."
"He must've run out of this—compound that was allowing him to function normally by now?"
"I don't think so. Not yet, but close maybe. So far his actions haven't been well thought out and calculated. But he's taking risks. That either means it was a part of a plan that's finally coming to fruition, or his time is running out. When I saw him he looked normal, maybe even younger than his true
age, which means it was still working. Of course, that was a few months ago."
"We need to figure out if there's a way to screen for people he's come into contact with and run the experiments on."
"Well that's actually something I've given a lot of thought. I think I know someone who could do it," Zasha said. "Here, let me hook my laptop up to the projector."
Richards took a seat, and Zasha made her way to the back where she busied herself with attaching wires and booting up her laptop while the others arrived.
"Hey, guys. Grab a packet, help yourself to breakfast, and take a seat. I want you to go ahead and look over the information so we're all up to snuff before I tell you why I called you in here and the new direction I want to take this investigation in," Zasha said. Once the five members were gathered she began. "This just came to me last night. Phelan grew curious about his parents and started to think maybe there was another motive for the murders besides revenge. A reason connected to why he chose Earth and stayed underground—until now."
"So he's trying to stop this rapid aging process?" Camden asked.
"We think so," Zasha said. "If we can figure out what he did to himself and how he plans on fixing it, I think we have a real shot at not only finding him, but also stopping him."
"How do you plan on doing that?" Griffin asked.
"With the help of her, Dr. Ivy Guerin, she’s the top geneticist in her field, one of the pioneers of alien D.N.A. She’s accepted among their circles, as well as our own. I believe between her and the Shar we can bridge the gap in our research, and get this son of a bitch before he does any more damage. Maybe even help the people he's already altered. Those poor souls should weigh heavily on my mind." No one spoke for a moment. By right she should've been taken off the case, as it was a major conflict of interests. They all knew it. Yet, who else could act as liaison between the royals and the P.I.U? Removing her right now would be suicide to the case, and it was too important to let that happen.
"What do you need us to do?" Miller asked. Zasha grinned. I can always count on my team to have my back.
Chapter Eleven
Bastien gave up on sleep around nine. He couldn’t get the thought of Rivka and all the pain she must've experienced because of his decision to undergo The Purge. Back then he'd been young and self-centered. He'd never once thought about the person out there waiting for him. How do you fix that? He was already emotional dysfunctional. He'd sacrificed his chances at a normal life for the greater good and received this? Why? What could he have done to make his energy so bad? His people were huge believers in energy; if you sent good out it came back, same with bad. So what the hell happened to him?
The world around him seemed duller, his mood lagged, and guilt dogged his every step. How could one person bring him to his knees? He dressed in a pair of black jeans, a Metallica t-shirt, black Converse, and headed down the hall to talk to Mars. He was the only one who knew he'd entered The Wanting. Phelan had enough to deal with. He wouldn’t ruin this moment. He knocked on the door. Strange, coming to baby brother like this. The door swung open to reveal Mars still clad in a pair of flannel pajamas and a gray t-shirt.
"Oh, you do not look well at all. This isn't the look I was expecting you to be wearing this morning," Mars said. He stepped back and waved him in.
"Yeah, me either," Bastien said. He sank down into the brown suede couch on the other side of the room where Fringe was playing on the big screen television. Mars sat across from him in a Lazy Boy made of the same material.
"Tell Dr. Mars what happened," he said.
"Ass," he said with a snort.