Blood Journals

By D.B. Ramsey

A dictator is collecting rare and precious strong bloods
to build an elite team for the military. A John Doe is
searching through his missing memories to find the truth
about himself and the man he is working for. The clock
ticks. Will Augusta, with the help of his friends and the
stolen blood journal, be able to put all the facts together
in time to save his son and other children from Maxwell
and get the children safely back to their parents,s or will
death be their ineluctable fate?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781105835575

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Diversion ~ Present time

AUGUSTA PEERED AROUND the corner of the enormous hallway at 10:59 am, anxiously awaiting Simon and Natasha’s arrival. They would help him achieve his plan to redirect the future of Maxwell Laboratories. He had worked for nearly four years at this South Eastern Oregon complex hidden in the middle of the desert. It had been so long, but now he would finally escape its confines on Monday, October 11th. As Augusta looked once more around the corner of the 12-foot-high, almond-colored concrete walls, he could see Simon and Natasha entering Y Lab, pushing their janitorial equipment across the tile floor, ever closer toward the meeting place. Just as the three were about to meet, a lab worker approached, wearing the green-colored lab coat of a hospital nurse.

Z Lab was the only laboratory where workers had to wear green coats, easily distinguishing their security clearance for the most protected area within the complex. Walking toward Augusta, staring almost right through him and entranced by her thoughts about genetics, the woman in green passed through the Z Lab doorway without so much as a word. Augusta turned to look, feeling a bit nervous and wondering how sound his plan would work out to be. The whole complex was labeled alphabetically with Laboratories A on the Western-most side through Laboratory Z on the east. Construction work was about to begin to create the new Laboratory AA, which would put the square footage of the complete complex at well over 300,000 square feet. The company’s property spanned over 200 acres of real estate. Maxwell Laboratories Complex Inc. also stretched out into other areas with an outdoor target range facility and a food factory.

Augusta spoke to Simon and Natasha as they approached, Good afternoon! The twins make quite a mess, don’t they?

Oh yea, they’re busy little boys! Natasha replied, looking upward to the plaque made of wood and silver above the conference room that announced the imaginative title: Fascination.

Simon chimed in, Yep, they do. One of them got green paint all over the counter space, but his painting isn’t half bad.

Another lab worker from R&D passed the three, not looking upward from his paperwork to take notice. He was wearing the white lab coat that all but Z Lab workers wore throughout the main complex. With the janitor cart, Simon, Natasha, and Augusta entered through the tall solid oak wood door into the Fascination conference room and gathered around the large oak wood table after placing the cart and mop with the bucket in a corner. The smell of bold espresso blend permeated the air.

Do you have the blood journal? Augusta asked in a relaxed voice as he stared at the two young workers with piercing green eyes.

Natasha had the thin, defined physique of a runner, her clothes conforming to her body and highlighting her firm, shapely curves. Simon was handsome with an appealing face and unappealing glasses and attire. His long brown hair, freckles, and slender build were always covered beneath a horrible line of oversized clothes.

Natasha responded, Yes, the journal was right where you said it would be.

Good. The blood journal will explain everything that we need to know. Clara will bring the boy in about 20 minutes. This conference room is not checked out to anybody for the next hour. Now I must go. Just take good care of Nathaniel. Thank you for doing this. Augusta shook Simon’s hand firmly.

Just make sure you get to the rendezvous in one piece, Simon responded.

Good luck, Augusta. Natasha hugged the tall companion before moving swiftly toward the corner of the conference room where the coffee was calling to her.

Augusta left the room quickly.

Do you want a cup of coffee, Simon? she asked, bringing the cup up to her face to take in the steam and bold aroma.

No, thank you. Coffee will make me even more nervous.

~*~*~

Augusta was the head of maintenance and had keys to almost everything. The only place that he was forbidden to enter was Z Lab and Maxwell’s personal living quarters. For all other areas, he had the keys and the control. Maxwell would not allow Augusta to briefly see or work within Z Lab.

Augusta only recently discovered that he had fathered twins kept in separate labs within the complex. As the Z Lab contact and caretaker of the children, Clara was crucial in rescuing Nathaniel and the rest of the twins. Whenever the fire alarm went off, she had been designated to escort the other Z Lab twins out of the building. On this day, however, another worker named Allison would be taking care of the kids due to a long-overdue week of vacation for Clara. Unfortunately, some of the twins would be bait, allowing Augusta’s team enough time to elude Maxwell and his thugs.

Nathaniel was the only known child whose twin had died.

Augusta went to the complex’s central buildings and took the elevator to the mezzanine level. Within M Lab, the state-of-the-art computer room held crucial information.

Augusta was about to create a ruckus that would have everybody running around in a state of panic, allowing the team of renegades a chance to the children and adults from further torment. The mezzanine was a perfect spot to ignite their plan. IT was already clear of the area, busily holding their Monday staff meeting.

Maxwell Laboratories contracted out most of its work but employed 325 people, and roughly 200 people would be scattered about the string of buildings looking for an exit. The panic would hopefully give Augusta’s team the ability to leave the complex unnoticed.

In the center of the mezzanine, Augusta carefully pulled down a ceiling tile. The room resembled a cluttered garage. A brightly colored wheel, an old ping-pong table propped up in a corner, old computers and parts, trash cans full of paper, and telephone wire occupied the mezzanine.

Between floors where few people ever entered was the perfect spot to place the explosive without being noticed.

Augusta walked to where the gasoline cans and assorted chemicals had been stacked in a corner area. From floor to ceiling, a stack of chemicals from paint to floor wax to motor oil was squeezed into the storage area, all adding up to one big explosion.

He stashed a small piece of C-4 up high within the ductwork. Inside a dumpster also containing a very small amount of the modeling clay-like substance, he placed another piece of explosive, connected with a 15-foot-line. Setting the timer for the planned time of occurrence, he picked up a bucket of almond-colored paint and stepped onto the elevator. The chaos would come fast.

He would have to move westward to F Lab. At nearly six-foot-three and weighing 210 pounds, Augusta was no small figure of a man. He was 50-years old, with a four-inch-long beard and a full head of brown flowing hair that was always covered with a baseball cap. His olive-colored skin was supple. The hardened gaze in his green eyes belonged to an older man, but his figure was lean and strong from years of hard work.

As he exited the elevator and rounded the corner, the next stage was set in motion. The lights flickered, and the ceiling tiles rattled as a large explosion set off the fire alarms. After turning and dropping his paint bucket in pretend shock, he stopped and grabbed his Nextel cell to call Randal. Smoke and dust now fell from the ceilings. People in the aisles coughed as they scattered toward the exits.

Randal Wilkins, his most skilled person in maintenance and second in command, beeped in and said, That explosion sounded like it came straight from the center of the complex.

As Augusta spoke into the phone, Bart Johansen brushed by with a hurried look. Bart was a menacing-looking man with short black oil-slicked hair standing out as his only beauty. He was anxiously looking for answers, rushing toward the elevator, pushing his enormous body past others moving toward the exits. Neither Bart nor the scattering people seemed to notice Augusta. Of course, Augusta noticed Bart. Even if he were blind, Augusta could tell he had passed by him due to the cologne that Bart bathed in before work each day.

Bart was talking on the phone, suddenly pulling it from his ear. From the receiver, someone yelled loudly.

I’ll get it under control, sir! Bart replied.

Bart, I’m about four miles from the target practice field, turning around to get back to my Complex. I want every available man containing this situation, do I make myself clear! Maxwell barked.

Yes, sir, he replied as a knot developed in his stomach.

Augusta finished up his conversation with Randle, I’m walking by J Lab heading for F. Keep me posted on the status of the fireman. The fire alarm was loud enough to break anybody’s concentration and produce a mild headache.

~*~*~

Simon and Natasha paced within the Fascination conference room. The fire alarms were excruciatingly loud. Both knew that Maxwell would be heading toward Z Lab in a big hurry. The voices of people shouting and yelling as they exited through a nearby doorway could be heard painfully well. The two pacing workers temporarily trapped in the conference room were fast becoming impatient with anticipation.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a tall, large woman with black hair entered, rolling a specially designed stroller with a small child inside.

I am Clara, and this charming young fellow is Nathaniel, she said loudly to be heard over the noise of the alarms. Clara wore her long, straight hair in a ponytail and walked with great confidence. She used her beautiful brown eyes and looming five-foot-eleven height to charm gentlemen by gently leaning on and flirting with them.

I am Simon, and this is Natasha, Simon said, leaning back against the conference room door to close it.

Pleased to meet you, Clara replied as she placed a small tan suitcase on the bottom of the cart. Clara lifted Nathaniel and placed him into the dumpster cart while addressing Natasha, Do you have the journal?

Yes. We have the book of nightmares.

Nathaniel was no ordinary three-year-old boy. He stared up at his two new friends with his sparkling green eyes almost covered by his curly blondish-brown hair and smiled with a calm serenity. The child’s behavior caught Simon and Natasha off guard and helped them both to relax, not realizing what exactly his little presence was doing to them.

Clara handed Simon a key, grasping both of his hands in hers and leaning close to him. Here is the key to the car. It’s parked close to the dumpster as planned. Good Luck, she said and winked.

Clara placed a light garbage bag full of Styrofoam on top of the boy’s head. Nathaniel started giggling at the little game.

Just stick to the plan, Clara said loudly, opening the conference room door and jamming a doorstop underneath before exiting.

Natasha followed Simon through the doorway with a wet mop in one hand and a trash bag full of garbage in the other. The familiar scent of orange cleaner followed them. They ran to the left, down the great hallway.

Several workers, all dressed the same, rushed toward the same exit.

Clara was already nowhere to be seen, but she had exited the building through a side door, heading for the F Lab outside entrance.

Simon pushed the janitorial cart toward the electronic exit doors. The exit was just 33 feet from the conference room, but it seemed much farther. He was a nervous man with a gentle way about him. With the prospect of kidnapping a child, the sweat was just rolling off, covered only by an extra shirt over his soaked one.

~*~*~

Augusta was in the twins’ sleeping quarters on the second floor, gathering up the last of the items to bring out to the van. His and Clara’s luggage had already been stashed in the room.

There were three sets of twins to take care of within the F Lab facilities. Mondays were always scheduled for the twins to be taken to the outdoor range for target practice, and it was always Augusta who would drop off and pick up the kids in a van. This was also the day that the twins sleeping quarters would be cleaned; different volunteers would be rotated into this task as there were strict security measures taken for all in direct contact with the twins. Nannies were assigned to all children living within the complex, with designated workers performing other responsibilities including training, education, and trash removal. Dr. Simon Baxter and his laboratory assistant Natasha Sanderson were up for the task of cleaning and trash removal on this occasion. The only difference today was that the cleanout included suitcases for the twins, packed for a one-way trip.

Clara popped through the doorway near the bunk bed area, Five minutes.

Okay, we’re right on schedule. He picked up two more suitcases and headed toward the elevator, taking it to the first-floor exit. Outside, he stopped briefly to take in a deep breath of the sunny afternoon’s warm fresh air. He loaded the suitcases into the van and swiftly returned to the second floor to grab the remaining. As he rushed toward the bed to get the luggage, Clara walked directly in front of him and pressed her body up close to his.

Hey now, are you flirting with me at a time like this?

I am, she whispered and stretched upward to give him a quick peck on the lips.

Augusta reached for the suitcase. What you have done for me means everything.

I know.

She walked out of the building and straight to the white 2009 Dodge van. After loading the remaining eight suitcases, Augusta jumped into the driver’s seat. He put the vehicle into drive and headed off, fastening his seatbelt as he drove down the paved road on the southwestern side of the complex, past the people at the western evacuation site gazing up at the smoke lifting from the rooftop. Soon the paved road transitioned to gravel. Within six minutes, they would be at the target practice site.

~*~*~

Dr. Maxwell picked up his Nextel and dialed Augusta.

Hello.

Augusta, are you on your way out to pick up the twins?

Yea, I’m on the gravel road.

Well, what are your people doing, and where are the firemen?

Randle is on top of it. Our onsite personnel was all over this one as soon as it happened. You should be proud of our emergency staff, Augusta replied, his voice unwaveringly calm.

Maxwell screamed at his chief of maintenance, I want you back at the complex pronto, do you hear me?

Yea, yea, give me twenty minutes.

Maxwell slammed the cell phone down, and it fell onto the cab floor within the Dodge pickup. Joe, I just want that man as far away from Z Lab as possible.

~*~*~

Augusta knew Maxwell would be viewing the target practice on this day and planned the operation accordingly. Knowing that Maxwell would immediately return to the complex and focus on the Z Lab twins, he timed his diversion with precision. Maxwell would not have arrived at the target practice field, yet he would still be far from the Complex. Augusta would be free to pick up the six kids from the guards as usual. As Augusta and Clara neared the target site, he stopped the van and said, See you in five.

Clara stepped out and jogged to the back of the vehicle, opening the rear doors to retrieve the suitcases. She swiftly brought them to a hiding spot, speaking out loud as anxiety set into her mind, Hurry back. She shut the doors and sat down with the suitcases beside her. She was behind a clump of thick sagebrush and an eight-foot-high cluster of granite rocks that completely hid her from the view of the road. As she sat down, Clara partially closed her eyes looking up toward the sunlight.

Augusta continued down the gravel road another mile and stopped the van, leaving the engine running. As he stepped out, two bodyguards rushed the six kids over to the van and helped them in. The guards also tossed all the firearms, preparing to return to the complex rapidly.

Augusta eyed the two, each standing at about six-foot-four, How did they shoot?

Tyler and Farris are dead-eyes, said the blond-haired guard named Miller, a large man weighing about 300 pounds. Oh, and take care of Johnny, he still appears to be sick. He smiled constantly through a huge gap between his teeth, acting more like a hotel concierge.

The dark-haired bodyguard named Fitz, weighing about 270 pounds, abruptly interrupted the conversation. We have to leave right now and get back to the complex. Fitz was a dream guard with the killer instinct and a cold heart, typical of Maxwell’s armed force.

Okay, see you later, Augusta said as the two guards jumped into their new blue BMW M5, rapidly blasting a thick cloud of dust behind them as they sped away.

Okay boys, fasten your seatbelts. Augusta drove the van slowly down the gravel road. The six boys’ belted themselves without saying much. Two of the twins sat alongside each other while the other four boys mingled. They were quiet.

~*~*~

Just as he and Natasha rolled outside through the electronic exit doors and into the parking lot, Simon felt a hand grasp his shoulder. He was hoping that it was Natasha’s hand but knew better.

Jake Hendricks, a cocky security guard, asked, Is that you, Dr. Baxter?

Simon tried to loosen his worried look and said, We were cleaning up after the twins when we heard the explosion.

Yep, well you better keep moving further out from the building, dump the garbage, and head toward the designated area. By this time, Jake had been staring at Natasha’s chest for nearly ten seconds. He had asked her out twice, denied each time.

She was wearing a tightly fitted white V-neck shirt beneath her white lab coat that revealed just enough cleavage to draw Jake’s eyeballs to her chest.

Let me get that bag for you, Natasha, he said as he plopped the 15 pounds of garbage on top of the cart. Simon’s face turned white as he feared the weight might hurt Nathaniel, but Jake was not looking toward Simon at this point. A scream from the crowd of workers jarred his attention, and Jake marched off, busily directing and rounding up the 45 people already gathered up in his designated area. Flames were now visible, shooting up four feet into the air from the central portion of the Complex. Fire personnel arrived to assist the onsite volunteer firefighters and take control in the fight against flames and smoke.

~*~*~

Dr. Joe Holden drove the Dodge pickup with Maxwell in