A Temporary Assassin: Assassin, #2

By George Knox

Dr. Derrick Lawson is one of the most brilliant scientists of our time and he has devoted his life to solving the greatest weakness of the human condition: aging. Together with his partner, Dr. Jason Barlow, he has founded The Body Perfect, a company that uses Lawson's unique cellular restoration process to give anyone a new, literally perfect body. The journey to this stage hasn't been easy, requiring countless trials and errors to achieve earth-shattering scientific breakthroughs while having to overcome numerous hurdles. Then there was Sandra Echols, CEO of the company whose bio-optical computer chips made the whole concept of human restoration possible and self-righteous crusader for all things moral and ethical. Run-ins with her over the years cost Derrick time, money, and irritating blights on his resume resulting in the ultimate insult: that human restoration could not involve the central nervous system.
Travis Brandon is head of computer design research at Echols Industries and the man responsible for developing the bio-optical chip. As a member of Sandra Echols' inner circle, he knows how deeply opposed she is to the idea of human restoration, but he is still curious about it. Travis secretly sets up an appointment to have a restoration done and Derrick Lawson himself oversees the restoration, much to the surprise of his staff. Everything goes well and Travis feels fine after waking from the procedure, until he learns that Sandra was murdered during the time he was away. When he assists the police in finding out who murdered Sandra, Travis suddenly becomes the main suspect even though he was undergoing a restoration at the time. The situation plunges Travis into a world where he isn't sure who he can trust. Fortunately, a small cadre of true friends comes to his aid and the resulting brain trust attempts to solve the mystery. But can they solve it in time to catch the real killer? The question hinges on who the real killer actually is.

• Language: English
• Publisher: George Knox
• Release date: Feb 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9780985122010

George Knox

George Knox is a retired physician who has been writing creative stories since childhood. His time practicing medicine inspired him to launch the existance of Sloan Madison and explore various aspects of life through her. He resides in Kauai with his wife and two of their grandchildren eking out free time to write more stories whenever possible. 

Book preview

Chapter One

As he trudged the short distance across the living room, Jason Barlow’s mind raced furiously through the vivid mental images he had created of the people on the other side of his front door. Jason had not actually met any of his guests; this introductory session had been arranged hurriedly and discretely by an acquaintance with far-reaching contacts. The knowledge that he was about to cordially greet the kingpins of Miami’s drug cartels repulsed him, but the realization that he’d been rejected by every serious venture capital firm kept his feet moving. Each step seemed to make the distance even longer.

The touch of the doorknob induced an immediate and well-practiced smile with which to put his prospective benefactors at ease. When he opened the door and got his first sight of the men, a laugh burst from his lips which he immediately disguised with a cough. He blamed the sudden rush of warm salt air for the difficulty.

The five men on his doorstep looked as if they were on a field trip for Hispanic hillbillies. All were shorter than he had imagined (the tallest being only five-foot-six) and their dress was remarkably casual. Only one of the five was wearing long pants, the rest were in plaid shorts of various patterns. Their shirts were floral prints that would rival any tourist’s and the footwear appeared to be the finest Walgreen’s had to offer.

The gaudiness of their attire was only heightened by the wall of bodyguards assembled behind them, the shortest of which was six feet tall. All wore designer suits, black of course, with a bulge beneath the left armpit where a weapon was holstered. Heads were either shaved or closely cropped. Their shades were Armani as were their shoes.

The eldest of the men reached out and grasped Jason’s hand warmly.

Doctor Barlow, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Alejandro Bueno. Please excuse our appearance but we didn’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves. We are very eager to hear your proposal.

The comment made Jason’s smile a little broader as he quickly stole a glance at the five fully pimped-out Escalades lined up on the street before focusing his attention back on Mr. Bueno.

And we are very eager to present it to you. Please come in.

Jason stepped back just in time to avoid being run over by three of the bodyguards who barreled past him and quickly but fluidly searched the premises before nodding to the others that it was safe to enter.

The men were then ushered into the small living room as the guards positioned themselves in and around the house. His guests had insisted upon anonymity and Jason had provided it in the form of a sparse, non-descript dwelling located on the beach in a bland neighborhood. He felt it useless to suggest that they pull their blatantly conspicuous motorcade around back or even into the public beach parking lot half a block down; so long as their checkbooks were fat and loose, they could act however they chose.

The men were seated in overstuffed leather recliners that had been carefully arranged to allow for the maximum benefit of the brief but powerful presentation they were about to see. A caterer offered everyone drinks and appetizers as a very nervous Jason stepped out to the deck to talk with his partner Derrick Lawson.

Derrick stood at the railing looking out over the sandy expanse that rimmed the ocean, the sun-bleached gritty collar being cluttered with people and vehicles as far as the eye could see. Several four-wheelers were running up and down the beach, mostly operated by testosterone-crazed boys trying to capture the attention of the bikini-clad objects of their infatuation while dodging sun worshipers and kid’s sand sculptures. The fruity scent of sun block competed with the saline and the seaweed to give a unique aromatic cocktail to the olfactories. He loved Daytona Beach.

As he watched the sophomoric revelry taking place before him, he took in a deep breath of the briny air and slowly drew his fingers back through his hair letting the breeze caress his scalp. The fine white filaments had been a curse in his youth, but now only served to enhance his credibility, a great benefit to a man who barely stood five feet tall. He marveled at the way people paid more attention to him for his silvery mane than they did for his intelligence. The inane correlation people placed upon height, mental capacity and appearance had frustrated him throughout his entire life, though now he had learned to exploit that. He looked upon humans as a whole to be a gullible lot; mindless chattel to be led and he was now one of the leaders.

His wandering thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the sliding glass door followed by the crunching of shoes against the sand-covered wooden deck.

Jason was the physical antithesis of Derrick. At six foot two, his slender, well-proportioned frame with his perfectly manicured dark hair and chiseled looks commanded attention just by entering a room. His steel blue eyes had a way of captivating whomever he was addressing, allowing his baritone timbre to draw them in completely.

Their appearances were further contrasted today by the choice of dress. Each was sporting a crisp white shirt and perfectly arranged silk tie but Jason wore a neatly tailored blue pin-striped Armani suit with Borgioli oxfords while Derrick was adorned (a generous stretch of the word) in his white coat, (professorial length of course with name emblazoned boldly above the left breast pocket) that almost completely covered his khaki slacks but still allowed everyone to see his worn Rockports.

The normally confident Jason walked precariously out to the railing, standing close so that his words wouldn’t be overheard by the three goons who had positioned themselves around the perimeter of the deck and were watching his every move. His usual demeanor had been rattled by the presence of more weaponry than he had ever seen outside of the movies. He leaned into Derrick as he spoke.

I’ve got everybody here. Are you ready for this? I mean, this idea of yours, it’s really going to work, right?

Just the questioning tone of Jason’s voice was enough to irritate Derrick, let alone the content. If it weren’t for his exceptional people skills Derrick would have dispensed with Jason long ago. But he did seem to have a remarkable way with everyone he came in contact with, unlike Derrick who had little tolerance for most people, a fact that was telegraphed in his tone and manner.

I do hope you realize that your question is not even worth acknowledging, let alone answering?

For his part, Jason hated the pompous arrogance that Derrick projected. Every word out of his mouth was carefully crafted to make the most out of sarcasm and derision. Only the fact that Derrick was the most intellectually gifted individual he had ever known kept Jason in this strained relationship. But the man had a genius for science that was unparalleled, and Jason was going to ride this star for all it was worth.

Look, you have no idea what it’s taken for me to get these men together to even consider funding this project. All I got from any legitimate venture capitalists was laughter. At least these guys were willing to sit down and listen to your presentation, so you might want to consider canning the sarcasm for the briefest of periods and talking to them as if they have some modicum of intelligence.

He quickly scanned Derrick’s appearance. And don’t you think the white coat’s a little much?

Derrick shot him a scornful glance. These buffoons want a scientist, they’re going to get a scientist.

Jason volleyed with his own look of reproach. Remember: education, not intimidation.

They had been going over the phrase for a week now to try and get it cemented into Derrick’s mind.

These guys brought a small army with them. I’m surprised they don’t have a flotilla sitting off shore. I don’t think it would be a good idea to piss them off.

Do you want me to tell them we have a house rule of only one armed thug per guest? Derrick said this with his best smirk. Then, after expelling a very deep sigh, he assumed the perfect manufactured smile. Game face. Let’s go ‘educate’ our guests.

Chapter Two

Derrick strode confidently into the makeshift meeting room and stood silently for a moment before the five men, studiously examining their leathery faces. It was an interesting group. Jason had gathered them because of the collective wealth that they represented, though from looking at the scruffy crew one wouldn’t suspect there was more than a few hundred dollars between them, even taking into account the gold teeth that a couple of them sported. Their casual attire gave the appearance that they’d be more comfortable in a sports bar or a bowling alley. One was even toting a spit cup for his wad of chewing tobacco.

He was fascinated by the fact that the men’s bodyguards were dressed better than they were. But these weren’t the wizards of Wall Street; they were men who had risen in a world of ‘kill or be killed’, literally. All had made their fortunes by taking risks and all were willing to expand that wealth by taking even more risks. The catch here was that they were used to being able to control those risks.

Therein lay the rub. Here, they would be turning their ill-gotten loot blindly over to Jason and Derrick with the promise of great returns. Jason had pitched the idea with enough information and enthusiasm to get them here, now it was Derrick’s job to ‘wow’ them with the details so they would pull out their overstuffed wallets; it was show time.

Gentlemen... Derrick paused for effect, looking directly at the well-worn faces of his audience, engaging their eyes. ...Ponce de Leon came to the new world some 500 years ago to seek the legendary Fountain of Youth. He was not the first, nor would he be the last. Throughout the ages, men have continued to search for ways to increase their lifespan, their collective efforts managing to approximately double the time they spent on this earth. Unfortunately that progress has taken centuries and required the incorporation of some rather unpleasant activities such as exercising and eating vegetables.

The humor was lame but it did manage to bring a smile to a couple of the otherwise somber mugs in the room.

Today, when you have a joint wear out, such as a knee or a hip, the doctor can take you to surgery, cut out the bad joint and replace it with a new one made of the finest metals and plastics available. This new joint will last for centuries longer than you will and during the rest of your life it will cause you an inordinate amount of aggravation by setting off every metal detector from here to China.

This time he actually produced a few chuckles; one of the men even started rubbing his hip.

Our work, gentlemen, goes beyond that crude attempt to artificially replace body parts as they wear out. Using the technology we have developed so far, we can restore the joint to a point better than it has ever been.

He paused again for effect, looking at the facial responses of his audience as he did. All were curious, two of them appeared skeptical. With a large, theatrical sweep of his left arm, Derrick stepped to the side as he spoke.

I direct your attention to the wall behind me. Rather than bore you with medical and technical jargon that would probably put all of us to sleep, I shall show you our work. Jason please start the first clip.

The video showed a middle-aged man ambling along a sidewalk with the aid of a cane; every step slow and obviously painful.

Gentlemen, this man is suffering from severe degenerative arthritis of both knees brought about primarily from a lifetime of extreme contact sports. In fact, you may recognize him from the football field. He was briefly in the spotlight as the dazzling new running back of the Detroit Lions some fifteen years ago until his leg was broken in the third game of his first season which essentially ended his career.

The inclusion of a semi-celebrity from the sports world had the desired effect as the men glanced around at each other and nodded. They knew this man. Derrick smiled slightly and gestured for Jason to stop the video.

We picked this subject because of the severe damage to his knees. He not only had abused his joints through rigid and demanding physical activities, but he had also taken anabolic steroids, which caused further deterioration. This next video... He again motioned to Jason. ...shows the arthroscopic view of his right knee, the worse of the two.

The video showed the surfaces of the knee from a small camera that had been inserted into the joint through a surgical incision. The tissue around the joint was ragged and friable. Instead of smooth, shiny surfaces gliding on a cushion of cartilage, the boney surfaces were irregular and pitted, rubbing against each other with nothing to ease the motion.

As you can see, the bone on bone movement of this joint made every step extremely painful. The joint itself was essentially ruined as was the left one. The finest orthopedic doctors in the world had evaluated his knees and universally recommended bilateral replacements. Fortunately, before they had a chance to lay a knife on him, I was able to talk to him about our procedure of reconstruction. We use a series of high speed, high definition MRI’s to image the joint. Then, we run that through a software program I have developed that determines how it would look if it were perfect. The patient is then put through our process using stem cells and nanotechnology to completely rejuvenate the joint and the surrounding tissues.

As he looked at the faces now, he noticed that they were starting to show some boredom. The sheep were ready for the shearing. He had Jason start the next video.

This is a video of that same man three days ago, two days after having undergone our procedure.

The man in the video was now gleefully jogging around a track, smiling. Derrick heard a collective gasp from the men; a desirable response. He moved to the next video which was another arthroscopic view of the knee.

Gentlemen, this is the view of the same knee taken the day after our procedure. You will notice that it appears somewhat different.

The video showed the right knee joint again, though this time the articulating surfaces were entirely smooth and the cartilage between them thick and healthy. Unlike the previous video, the surrounding tissues were very elastic and showed no signs of wear or tear. This was a perfect joint. Derrick looked at the men again and their faces showed entirely different expressions.

The ravages of age and abuse are no longer present. In fact, this knee is literally better than it has ever been. Every cell, every structure has been rebuilt to the point where it should be in a perfect body.

He had Jason stop the video as he stepped in front of the men once again, his whole being reflecting the confidence of a man who had just won over his audience.

And gentlemen, this is just the beginning. With your financial support we can do this same thing with the entire human body, reconstructing it to the point of perfection and eliminating the flaws of natural genetics.

There was another brief pause for effect.

Gentlemen, we can give you eternal life. Derrick was now looking at an emotionally captive group of men. Are there any questions?

Chapter Three

Eighteen months later

The acrid smell of burning flesh flooded Jason Barlow’s nostrils as he raced down the sterile hallway toward the origin of the screams. He pulled out his key card to enter the main research area when the heavy metal door burst open and Jennifer Garston, the primary graduate assistant for his partner, raced out, hand clutched to her mouth, body flexing in dry heaves. As he briskly walked into the control room of the MRI suite the screaming stopped and he saw Derrick Lawson slam his fist angrily onto the control panel.

Damn it! That shouldn’t have happened.

Derrick was shaking his head in frustration as he spoke, his eyes fixed on the scene beyond the observation window. Jason looked through the window and viewed the ghoulish display. There on the cradle of the MRI lay a limp, lifeless body, the top third of its head melted, face frozen in an expression of intense pain. A thin stream of blood was still oozing from the skull, flowing along the base of the cradle and pooling on the tile floor.

What the hell’s going on?

Lawson sighed then looked at him in resignation. We overheated. I’ve got to figure out how to do this and keep the body at a temperature that’s compatible with life.

Really?!

The expression on Jason’s face mirrored his verbal disgust. This was the first human trial they had performed and it appeared in all respects to Jason to be a disaster at this particular moment. They had worked on several large animals, mostly dogs, and Derrick had felt he was ready to advance to the human stage. The subject (or rather now, victim) was a volunteer they had recruited from a nearby homeless shelter: male, middle-aged, average build in relatively fair health. After ensuring he had no traceable living relatives so there would be no liability, he was promised a modest sum to participate in the study.

What is going through your mind? We’ve got nine months to get this thing right and you can’t even figure out how to keep from melting people’s brains? Get a clue Rick! This is your life. Our lives! Please tell me I don’t need to remind you our investors don’t have a sense of humor.

The reprimand was futile as Derrick’s mind was flying through possible scenarios to solve the problem. It’s just a matter of keeping the temperature within the range of 36 to 38 Celsius. He was lost in thought, speaking out loud.

Well maybe you could figure out a solution for that before you kill anyone else.

The sharp tone and accusatory nature of the comment caught Derrick’s attention, snapping him out of his meditative trance. He glared at Jason for a few seconds before answering.

Look, you pompous shit. I know it seems like a simple little thing to you; after all, you work with computer codes and paperwork all day so why shouldn’t it be a matter of just figuring out which sequence goes where? But I’m dealing with living, breathing entities here. You remember those, don’t you: genetic code, DNA? It’s not quite as simple as pulling a rabbit out of a hat. I told you when we fried those dogs that it was going to take some time. What part of this do you not understand? This is unchartered territory. He slowed the next sentence down for emphasis. I’m doing.. the best.. I can!

Jason seethed, returning Derrick's glare for several seconds in another vain attempt to stare him down.

Yeah, well you’d better figure it out soon. We’re on a deadline here and the guys we’re dealing with are getting impatient. I managed to get you lined up with twenty million in capital and these guys are expecting a reasonable return on their investment; and soon.

His thoughts went back to the meeting in the beach house and the display of firepower their ‘investors’ brought with them. A shudder went through him.

They’re not exactly the laid-back type. Our futures are on the line here. It would be in your.., no, our best interests to speed things up. After all, it’s not like you have many other options.

The reference was to the fact that Derrick’s license had been attacked already by the medical board for the research methods he had employed getting them this far. It had taken quite a bit of finesse and effort on Jason’s part to get that smoothed over and he did not relish the idea of having to do any of that again.

A condescending smile formed on Lawson’s face. "Well, isn’t that special. Thank you for pointing out the obvious Dr. Barlow. I’ll see what I can