Free The Ancient Breed by David Brookover Page A

showing up to kidnap her and shoot the new boyfriend.”
    Neo nodded. “Right – that is a bit farfetched.”
    Crow grinned. “But I suppose we could check it out just for the helluva it.”
    “Yeah, just for the helluva it,” Neo added.
    “I think I know what the motive was.” A woman’s voice carried from the hallway. “I think Blossom was kidnapped by thieves.”
    The four agents turned and were instantly captivated by the beautiful woman in the open doorway.
    Her expression was grim. “May I come in?”
    The vociferous lab agent leaped forward. “If you’re coming inside, miss, you’re going to have to wear a hairnet.”
    Suddenly the four men burst into laughter, leaving the woman completely bewildered.

9
    T
    he ominous skyscraper cast a pall over the Manhattan skyline like a tombstone. It was an architectural masterpiece of amber glass framed with black marble, and it glittered like a pale gem beneath the setting sun. The imposing structure narrowed as it approached the top six stories, and few people had ever been invited to the lavish penthouse on the uppermost floor. It was strictly reserved for the owners of the privately held Aspirations, Incorporated, world-renowned for their anti-aging products. However, the building’s architectural beauty was merely a facade that cloaked an ancient evil within.
    Today, as was their custom every month on this date, the three owners convened their board meeting and discussed the corporation’s business and financial matters. The three elderly owners were Grant Donovan, Sloan McGrath and Tobias Simpkins. The six-foot two Donovan was muscular, ruggedly handsome and had a full head of wavy silver hair. McGrath’s medium wiry frame was an inch shorter than Donovan; his countenance was pinched in a perpetual scowl. Gray streaked his thin, unkempt red hair. Simpkins was the tallest partner at six-foot four. He carried himself with a regal air and was generally considered to be the leader of the group. His eyes were a vibrant blue, and his wide smile could exude charm and warmth – or lethal frost, depending on his mood. Those who were well acquainted with the Aspirations board members unanimously agreed that Tobias Simpkins was the most ruthless.
    All three men’s bulbous noses were networked with broken blood vessels. Their complexions were scored with leathery wrinkles and their beetle brows were dusted gray. The flesh on the backs of their hands were sallow, translucent and dotted with liver spots.
    They wore ultra-expensive business suits and smoked hand-rolled Havana cigars. A bluish-gray haze rose toward the ceiling where the powerful smoke-eater sucked it quickly from the boardroom. Sloan McGrath reached into his suit jacket pocket, withdrew a business envelope and pushed it across the table to Tobias.
    After scanning the brief report, Tobias passed it to Grant Donovan. When he finished reading it, he refolded the report and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
    “Incompetence is the only word for it,” Tobias said at last and his partners agreed. “That fruity jackass, Dr. Patrick, has botched his assignment but good.”
    “Well, what’s our next move? We can’t allow Warnke Construction to continue excavating until we’ve had a chance to remove the elixir,” Sloan asserted.
    “Plan B,” replied Grant.
    “Precisely,” Tobias agreed. “Are our back-up people ready and willing to move later on tonight?”
    “They are,” Grant replied. “I spoke with them less than an hour ago.”
    “If your associates are nabbed by the cops, they can’t be traced back to us can they?” Sloan asked nervously.
    Tobias frowned at McGrath.
    “Of course not,” Grant snapped defensively. “I’ve taken the usual precautions. Besides, those people don’t care who they work for as long as they get their cash payments.”
    “Good, good,” Sloan said quickly.
    “That’s the easy part, Sloan,” Tobias reminded him. “Opening the vault and transporting the elixir