were.”
She gave a slight nod. “If it works, I’m up
for it.”
Harry meant what he said, but he also knew
that up until he did find a way to reverse the procedure, then
things would never be normal. Once back at the cabin, he called
Farrell and told him about the incident. Naturally, the older man
screamed at him for going out without an escort. He drove up the
next day, his car throwing up a cloud of dirt as he screeched to a
stop outside the cabin and ran over to the door.
“ Just so you know, kid,” he began as soon
as the front door opened, “I told the clerk at the store that a
movie was being filmed here. He believed me when I said some of the
extras were walking around.”
It was a BS excuse, but this was the closest
people had come to discovering their existence, and Harry wasn’t
into show-and-tell, not yet. Since the fights three months before
with Lyudmila and Piotr, most of the populace in and around New
York wanted to know about the transgenics.
Officially, all four had been caught and were
being held in an undisclosed location. That was the story concocted
by the FBI and New York’s finest. So far, it seemed to be
working... but incidents like this, Farrell reminded them, could
bring the reporters. “And I don’t want the press to find out about
this. It’s not time.”
“ Is it ever going to be time?” Anastasia
asked. Anguish crept into her voice. “I know what I am and what I
look like. But it’s everyone else that’s going to have to get
comfortable with me—us,” she corrected herself so as to include
Harry—”and I don’t want to live in solitary confinement for the
rest of my life. I’m not even an American citizen yet.”
A look of sorrow came over Farrell’s face. He
wasn’t the type to show emotion readily. Hard-ass persona or not,
he’d always been there to lend a hand. “I’m hoping that one day you
won’t have to worry about it. But right now, you do, and so do we.
And I’m still working on the papers for you. I promised, and I
intend to keep my promise...”
A low moan broke through Harry’s trip down
memory lane. Istvan started at the sound. “What is wrong with
her?”
“She gets carsick,” Harry explained.
“Oh.”
“Anyone want a barf bag?” Farrell called
out.
Anastasia grunted, stifled another moan and
said, “Just shut up and drive.”
Upon reaching Manhattan two hours later, they
entered FBI headquarters through an underground garage and Farrell
took them to Harry’s former laboratory. “We’ve got some of the best
computer techs working for us, tracking down the sources and
extrapolating all the information,” Farrell explained as he led
them inside. “Meet the team.”
In spite of the terrors, he’d encountered
only a few hours ago, Harry cracked a smile at the two people
sitting in front of a row of desktop computers. “Jason, Tina, how’s
it going?”
Jason Parham, a tall and lean nineteen
year-old—the same age as Harry—nodded hello. He and Harry had been
best friends since junior high, but while Harry went into the field
of transgenic research, Jason had stuck to his games and computer
work. Tall and lean to the point of emaciation and extremely geeky
looking with long, straight black hair down to his shoulders, he
sat next to his girlfriend. “I’m doing okay,” Jason said. “I got my
computers and my partner in crime, er, justice with me.” He
indicated Tina with a nod.
Tina Mazerowski, also tall and lean and
dark-haired, was no less a tech nerd, but was the more outgoing of
the two, with a pretty face and sparkling green eyes. She nodded as
well.
However, when they got a good look at Istvan,
their jaws simultaneously hit the floor. With a look of
uncertainty, Tina eyed Istvan and then shifted her gaze to Harry.
“I thought I was seeing twins. First it was a cat and now I’m
looking at two cat people and a...” she started to say.
“You mean a pig,” Anastasia finished. “Yeah,
he’s that way, and
She gave a slight nod. “If it works, I’m up
for it.”
Harry meant what he said, but he also knew
that up until he did find a way to reverse the procedure, then
things would never be normal. Once back at the cabin, he called
Farrell and told him about the incident. Naturally, the older man
screamed at him for going out without an escort. He drove up the
next day, his car throwing up a cloud of dirt as he screeched to a
stop outside the cabin and ran over to the door.
“ Just so you know, kid,” he began as soon
as the front door opened, “I told the clerk at the store that a
movie was being filmed here. He believed me when I said some of the
extras were walking around.”
It was a BS excuse, but this was the closest
people had come to discovering their existence, and Harry wasn’t
into show-and-tell, not yet. Since the fights three months before
with Lyudmila and Piotr, most of the populace in and around New
York wanted to know about the transgenics.
Officially, all four had been caught and were
being held in an undisclosed location. That was the story concocted
by the FBI and New York’s finest. So far, it seemed to be
working... but incidents like this, Farrell reminded them, could
bring the reporters. “And I don’t want the press to find out about
this. It’s not time.”
“ Is it ever going to be time?” Anastasia
asked. Anguish crept into her voice. “I know what I am and what I
look like. But it’s everyone else that’s going to have to get
comfortable with me—us,” she corrected herself so as to include
Harry—”and I don’t want to live in solitary confinement for the
rest of my life. I’m not even an American citizen yet.”
A look of sorrow came over Farrell’s face. He
wasn’t the type to show emotion readily. Hard-ass persona or not,
he’d always been there to lend a hand. “I’m hoping that one day you
won’t have to worry about it. But right now, you do, and so do we.
And I’m still working on the papers for you. I promised, and I
intend to keep my promise...”
A low moan broke through Harry’s trip down
memory lane. Istvan started at the sound. “What is wrong with
her?”
“She gets carsick,” Harry explained.
“Oh.”
“Anyone want a barf bag?” Farrell called
out.
Anastasia grunted, stifled another moan and
said, “Just shut up and drive.”
Upon reaching Manhattan two hours later, they
entered FBI headquarters through an underground garage and Farrell
took them to Harry’s former laboratory. “We’ve got some of the best
computer techs working for us, tracking down the sources and
extrapolating all the information,” Farrell explained as he led
them inside. “Meet the team.”
In spite of the terrors, he’d encountered
only a few hours ago, Harry cracked a smile at the two people
sitting in front of a row of desktop computers. “Jason, Tina, how’s
it going?”
Jason Parham, a tall and lean nineteen
year-old—the same age as Harry—nodded hello. He and Harry had been
best friends since junior high, but while Harry went into the field
of transgenic research, Jason had stuck to his games and computer
work. Tall and lean to the point of emaciation and extremely geeky
looking with long, straight black hair down to his shoulders, he
sat next to his girlfriend. “I’m doing okay,” Jason said. “I got my
computers and my partner in crime, er, justice with me.” He
indicated Tina with a nod.
Tina Mazerowski, also tall and lean and
dark-haired, was no less a tech nerd, but was the more outgoing of
the two, with a pretty face and sparkling green eyes. She nodded as
well.
However, when they got a good look at Istvan,
their jaws simultaneously hit the floor. With a look of
uncertainty, Tina eyed Istvan and then shifted her gaze to Harry.
“I thought I was seeing twins. First it was a cat and now I’m
looking at two cat people and a...” she started to say.
“You mean a pig,” Anastasia finished. “Yeah,
he’s that way, and
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