Chapter 18
Doctor D’Alleva led the well-dressed man into the private elevator which would take them down to the Research and Development Center. The floor was now home to over thirty-six highly qualified scientists currently working on a total of twelve different projects.
“So, if you don’t mind me asking, how is it that you know about the organic polymers and cybernetic components project? It’s not something that we have been actively advertising at the moment.”
Vincent looked to the man riding alongside him in the elevator car. The car quickly descended to the fourth floor and as the doors slid open, Charles seemingly ignored the question and stepped out into the hallway.
“Ahem. Doctor Skee?”
The drug cartel leader smiled as he turned to regard Vincent.
“Let’s just say that it’s my job to know what’s going on both publicly and behind the scenes. And much like I said before, robotics and artificial intelligence fascinate me. You might not know this about me, but before I assumed the position I’m in now, I too attended the university for a few semesters.” Vincent looked a bit surprised by the proclamation. “Really Vincent? The thought of me being enrolled in a degree program at college surprises you?”
“Um...It’s not that. You just didn’t strike me as the school type, what with all your... extracurricular activities.” Charles scoffed at the remark and his stare stopped the doctor dead in his tracks. Fearing that the sharp-dressed man might actually attack him, he held up his hands in defense. “I didn’t mean any offense. I was simply making an observation!”
“Put your hands down. I’m not going to strike you. You’re my partner and partners are to be respected.” He put extra emphasis on the final word. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of course.”
“And might I just add that when I was in college, I was a double major in business and mechanical engineering. I was at the top of my class in…” Charles caught himself mid-sentence before he actually divulged any pertinent information about his past. “High school class. In fact, I earned a scholarship. I wasn’t always in this line of business.”
He couldn’t quite explain why he needed to explain himself to his business partner, but his biased judgment actually bothered him. This was a man who had single-handedly created a worldwide drug empire, he was the man who had become successful in lieu of his financial upbringing, he was a good son and provider for his mother and yet, the chuckle of a man who was in financial ruin just months before bothered him.
He shook off the sting of Vincent’s judgment and once again put on a happy and confident face.
“It’s fine Vincent. We are each entitled to our opinions. I mean let’s be honest, it’s how most of the world operates.”
He had lied to the doctor about not feeling insulted almost as easily as he lied to his dementia-ridden mother.
The two continued walking down the hallway and when they reached the glass doors that separated the hallway from the R and D laboratory, Doctor D’Alleva produced his swipe card and unlocked the security door. He then held the door in order for his friend to follow after him.
“We keep the research lab under security key and twenty-four-hour surveillance. I like to have an accurate record of everyone entering and leaving the facility. There is a lot of high tech testing going on inside, and we wouldn’t want any of that being leaked to the public.”
Charles nodded his agreement.
“One never can be too careful with company secrets.”
Vincent appeared unsure about how he should respond to the comment, and instead continued to lead the way.
“The researchers in the first wing have been tasked with the development of a biodegradable packaging material for all of the company’s projects. We are trying to remain as eco-friendly as possible.”
The three scientists looked up from their work briefly to greet the CEO and his guest.
“So far we have produced two packages using only recycled cardboard, sawdust, and beeswax.” Charles picked up one of the sample packages and tested its strength by flexing it.
“It’s quite durable. How long will something like this typically last?”
“It’s shelf life is dependant upon temperature and exposure to moisture. Outside it will break down completely into compost within a month of exposure to sunlight and the other natural elements.”
Surprisingly, the Headman seemed intrigued by the properties of the packaging. They passed through a second security door and walked down the hallway to wing two.
“Laboratory two is currently working on a formula for a spray-on UV protectant. Similar to sunscreen, but for windows. Their work has been proven effective at reducing the amount of UV light passing through standard glass panels and even designer sunglasses. The overall health benefits could go a long way towards reducing the number of cases of skin cancer worldwide. With global warming and the increase in ultraviolet radiation from the sun, this product if successful could make the company billions in the long term.”
The scientist sitting at the lab station handed Charles a sample glass panel and instructed him to hold it up to an overhead light source. The sample dulled the light slightly and seemed to even dissipate some of the heat. There was, however, a murky cloudiness on the outside as he attempted to look through it.
“Is the glass dirty?” Charles flipped over the pane and tried to remove the smudges.
“No, it is currently a side effect of the spray. We are working on making it clearer upon application, but have not yet been successful. I have some of my best minds working on this, and I am quite confident that they will figure it out in due time.”
Charles handed the glass pane back to the researcher and the two exited the second wing. They continued down the hallway and entered a laboratory on the left side labeled three.
“Our third wing lab is currently working on the new and improved plant food formula. We have had some minor success so far. The first two formulas haven’t produced drastic results, but it is hard to make good plant food when the government insists on lowering the number of organophosphates. I, as well as some of my fellow scientists, have been brainstorming a synthetic compound that mimics phosphorus, but without the harmful ecological side effects like algal blooms.”
The last sentence piqued the Headman’s interest threefold. He motioned for the doctor to accompany him into the hallway and out of the direct earshot of the resident chemists. Doctor D’Alleva followed him into the hallway adjacent to the fourth wing.
“I’m sorry. Did you say that you can create synthetic compounds that mimic other compounds?” The wheels of a plan were clearly spinning inside the drug lord’s mind and Vincent could almost predict where this was going next.
“Yes, one of the perks of being a biochemist, and one of our hobbies so to speak, is creating new and unique synthetic compounds. There have been many produced over the years like the biofuel, ethanol, L-dopa, and D-dopa an Alzheimer’s medication, and artificial sweeteners like Splenda and Truvia.”
The mention of the Alzheimer’s medication did not go unnoticed either. Charles scratched the scruff on his chin and formulated his next question.
“So, is there a limit to what our company can produce? I mean in terms of what the company is equipped for? Say I wanted to produce the raw materials for another product. Is that something Bacro Industries could accommodate? Or would we need to purchase other machinery and set up a new plant of operation?” Charles waited intently for the answers to his questions.
“Bacro Industries is first and foremost a fertilizer and pharmaceutical company. We have the means to create, sort, mix and package anything from aspirin to medical marijuana. Our laboratories are outfitted for milling, granulation, tablet coating, tablet pressing, and powder blending. We have two licensed pharmacologists on the payroll as well as three biochemical engineers. In addition to the above processes, Bacro Industries can also perform crystallizations, distillations, gas chromatography, and hot-melt extrusions. You’ll find that we are prepared to handle most pharmaceutical production stages.”
Most of what the doctor rattled off made little to no sense to the drug lord, but what he did grasp was that in addition to providing a working shipping hub for his street enterprise, the corporation had the ability to manufacture his street wares as well. It also sounded like the company could purify and intensify the potency of many of his current street products. He also hoped that by doing so, he could cut costs, increase profits, and ultimately keep his clientele alive longer.
“So would it be possible to produce fentanyl? How about codeine? Or Lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD)?”
“Yes, we could produce any and all of those substances with the correct patents and licensing.”
Vincent was quick to answer but wished he hadn’t once he did.
This had been his plan all along. He had offered to subsidize and revitalize his failing corporation in order to secure a location where he could mass produce his addictive poisons for the masses. It all made sense now. The plans for expansion, the interest in the labs and research. How had he not put it all together sooner?
“Wait a minute. Are you intending to use my company to sell your street trash? I won’t stand for it!”
“I do. And you will. Let’s not forget the stipulations of our agreement. You wouldn’t want little Bella and Antonio to go missing would you?” The doctor clenched his fist and even contemplated lashing out at the drug lord. “Would You?”
The words were said more sternly the second time and Vincent noticed a cell phone set to dial in the Headman’s hand.
“All it will take is me pressing this button and it will be a done deal. Is that what you really want my dear Vincent?”
Vincent allowed his rage to subside and managed to unclench his fist.
“No, definitely not.” He was defeated once more. “I mean, sure we can do those things, but I’m hoping that it won’t be our only product moving forward.”
“Doctor D’Alleva as I’ve told you before. It’s still your company. I will not take that from you, but as your partner, I am entitled to use the facility to produce certain products. It will not interfere with your day to day manufacturing but may require the use of some of the manufacturing equipment. I assure you, the inner workings of my business will in no way implement or implicate you. I am very good at operating a legitimate business and simply skimming some of the product off the top.”
“I understand what you're saying, but I’m not ok with manufacturing a product that is responsible for killing tens of thousands of people last year! I simply won’t!” The doctor was once again adamant about his opinion.
“You misunderstand me, doctor. Your company will be manufacturing the fentanyl patch. My organization will be creating a safer version of the drug for our select buyers. In the end, I will be making it safer for the user and ultimately both of us will be making a profit. I sell drugs, yes, but my clients are no use to me if they’re dead.”
The Headman had raised an interesting ethical argument, but it in no way swayed Vincent from his opinion.
“Look if it bothers you that much, I will handle all my product development from outback in the shipping warehouse. You can have your lawyers write up a lease to the Charles Skee Shipping Corporation and if anything happens, you are nothing more than an uninvolved landlord. Now, if we could, I believe there is still another laboratory that I have not yet seen.”
The recent proclamation did little to quell the fears of Doctor D’Alleva, but the threat of physical harm coming to his beloved children was enough to keep him in check. He would have his lawyers draw up the appropriate lease papers absolving him from any goings on in the western warehouse, and in the meantime, he would continue to search for a way out. He did his best to dismiss his disapproval and turned back to the tour. Swiping his security clearance card once more, the pair entered the fourth wing laboratory. Hotwire was over on the side of the room wearing welding goggles and holding a soldering gun. When the door opened, he flipped up his safety glasses, dropped his tools and flew into a complete rage.
“Really doctor?! How many times do I have to ask you to give me a warning before you just barge in on my work? I could have burned my eyeballs out of their goddarn sockets! And whose this pencilneck, PeeWee Herman look alike?”
The Headman looked from the scientist to Vincent, then back to the scientist.
“You need to calm down Hotwire. Try to remember who pays your salary.”
Doctor D’Alleva’s tone was stern and the confrontational scientist backed down only a bit. Vincent was already pissed off and Hotwire was giving him a place to safely vent his anger He stepped forward and place an accusatory finger into the arrogant scientist’s face.
“This gentleman is one of the company’s primary investors, who also happens to be a good friend of mine. You will treat him and every other member of the executive committee with respect. Am I understood?”
His eyes told the complete story of his rage, and Hotwire wisely backed off.
“Take it easy, boss. I’m sorry. You know how high strung I can be. It’s the coffee, honestly.”
He held up his hands in a non-threatening way and then offered his hand in order to shake that of the visitor. Charles, in turn, accepted and gripped it tightly.
“Doctor Charles Skee, Vice President of Marketing and Distribution.”
“Doctor Randolph Frankenstein, but you can call me Hotwire. That’s quite a grip you got there, buddy.”
After having his hand released from his vice-like hold, he took his seat once more at his workstation.
“Frankenstein, eh?” His glance appeared disbelieving.
“The one and only. I had ancestry dot com check my DNA and it all checks out. The old man was like my great-great-great-great grandfather twice removed or something. Deoxyribonucleic acid doesn’t lie you know.”
“I see, well it’s quite a pleasure to meet you, now that you’ve calmed down. I’m deeply interested in what you and your fellow researchers are working on. Vinc---Doctor D’Alleva, tells me you’re one of his most promising young minds, and that your work is some real cutting edge stuff.”
Charles had always been very good at schmoozing people and always knew just what to say to elicit the most positive response.
“Thanks pops. it’s nice to be recognized! My awesome boss here has given me permission to combine two different projects. I have been working on android body parts that are coated in a resilient polyorganic skin. I’ve also been dabbling in full android technology. But don’t worry, it’s not any Terminator-type stuff, my androids and robotic body parts are controlled either by a cybernetic implant or a motherboard. So there’s no chance that they can think on their own. At least not yet anyway.”
“I find this all to be quite fascinating! How far along are your prototypes? Do you have a working android yet?”
“Cool your jets, pops! You gotta give me a minute. Geez!”
Hotwire got up from his workstation and walked over to a large cabinet on the far side of the lab. He unlocked the door and opened it exposing a fully assembled humanoid robotic frame.
“I’ve been working on this bad boy, I mean bad girl, for the past three months. She’s made from a lightweight titanium alloy I developed, and when she’s all done, you’ll be hard pressed to tell if she’s human or an android.”
He pressed a blue button on a control pad and the cybernetic creation walked out of the cabinet and towards the group.
“Gentlemen I introduce you to F.A.C.E, Fully Autonomous Computerized Entity. The name is still a work in progress.”
The robot stopped in front of the two guests looked them over with two complex electronic eyes, blinked and then spoke.
“Hello, gentlemen. Welcome to Doctor Frankenstein’s laboratory.” The voice was human in all aspects and had a soft-spoken motherly effect.
“That’s amazing! What else can she do?”
“Like I said, when I’m done developing the polyorganic skin, she’ll blend right in with the rest of society. She’s programmed now to respond to up to ten thousand different phrases, and she has wifi capability that allows her to access the internet for information not already built into to her internal motherboard. GPS allows me to track her whereabouts, and her titanium-alloy frame can withstand a four-story fall or a forty-five mile an hour car impact.” Vincent and Charles looked on in utter amazement. “F.A.C.E, please return to your cabinet.”
“Goodbye.”
The android waved to her audience and walked back across the room to her cabinet. She subsequently turned around and shut down.
“Did I mention that she’s also completely obedient?”
The Headman’s informant had not disappointed him. He had come into the lab not fully knowing what to expect and would be leaving with a flurry of new ideas.
“I look forward to your advancements with F.A.C.E. Please let the doctor know if you have any other significant advancements so I can be here when you present them.
Vincent’s looked over at his research scientist a bit surprised.
“How long have you been holding back on that one? The last time I was in to see you two weeks ago I had not even heard of F.A.C.E. Now you have this functional prototype, I’m not saying that I’m not impressed, but I am a little disappointed that I was not made aware of this sooner.”
“Woah! Woah Doc! This was not intentional. I only got F.A.C.E here up and running about thirty-six hours ago. Quite frankly, I didn’t know if she was even going to perform as well as she did for her maiden voyage so to speak. Besides, this gave me the opportunity to present my advancements to not only you but the Veep of Marketing. Who better as an audience?”
Vincent nodded in understanding, but couldn’t help but wonder if the prototype would have been revealed had Charles not inquired. He was starting to question Hotwire’s motives and whether or not he could be trusted.
“Alright, well keep up the good work! Also, I would like a full report on my desk by the close of business Friday. Make sure it includes,” he cleared his throat loudly. “All of your projects.”
“Will do doc. That gives me an additional two days to see what else she can do.”
It was then that a strange alarm sounded from inside Charles’ pocket. The sharply dressed man retrieved his phone, looked at the caller’s identity, then excused himself from the room and took the call in the hallway.
“Yes, what is it?” There was some heavy breathing on the other end of the line.
“Oh, sorry boss but there’s been a development. We need you to come back to Jersey immediately!” The informant on the other end of the line sounded frantic.
“What’s going on? I am scheduled to meet with the Weasel later on today.” There was the sound of a gunshot and of a phone hitting the ground. “Jimmy? Jimmy? Answer me.”
The other end of the phone remained eerily quiet. At first, he thought to simply hang up, but then a voice he only partially recognized spoke through the receiver.
“Hello, Declan. It’s time you and I had a chat.”
The Headman seldom is ever used that name and when he did it was on shipping manifestos. Clearly, the man on the other end of the line must know him from his activity on the port.
“Who is this? Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”
The drug dealer did his best to calm his voice and strike an air of confidence.
“Shut up! I know who you are, and... where you are. If you’re as smart as everyone says, you’ll make it a point to meet with me later today. 10:45 p.m. at the Newark wharf. You don’t have to come alone but do come unarmed. I’d like to have a productive discussion with you devoid of violent threats. If we need anything else, we’ll be in touch.”
The phone line clicked off, just as Vincent exited the lab. The look on Charles’ face didn’t bode well.
“Is everything alright?”
The Headman clicked his phone shut and placed it back into his inside jacket pocket. After taking a deep breath, he addressed the question.
“Something unexpected has come up. We’ll have to continue our tour at a later time.”
He extended his hand to shake with the doctor.
“Don’t worry Vincent, I’ll see myself out. Thanks again for the tour. It really was quite interesting. I’ll be in touch.”
The sharply dressed businessman then turned on his expensive loafers and walked down the hall towards the security door.
Vincent was unsure what to make of the entire transaction. Part of him was relieved that the dangerous man would be leaving the building. Perhaps, this unexpected meeting would lead to his demise at the hands of one of his so-called business partners. He thought about all the possibilities, but then recalled the words of an old expression. The devil you knows is better than the one you don’t. It was highly unlikely that a high profile drug lord like the Headman wouldn’t have someone waiting in the wings as a successor to his vast empire. Even worse, there could be another player lying in wait ready to swoop in and take over all of his assets, while eliminating the competition. That final possibility sat the least well with him.
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