Free Lethal Dose by Jeff Buick Page B

classified, Evan,” Andrews said, piecing together his train of thought as he went. “Rousseau was a researcher working on one of our cholesterol drugs, but he also had access to confidential computer systems outside his department. Someone was hacking into the highly secure files in our brain chip lab, and we traced it back to Rousseau’s computer. Once we suspected it was Rousseau, we attached a sniffer pack to his office and home computers and monitored both of them for over a month. There was no doubt in our minds that Albert Rousseau was preparing to either blackmail us or go to the press.”
    â€œWith what, Bruce? What are you hiding?”
    Good question , Andrews thought. He didn’t have a clue. He was ad-libbing his way through this mess. Ziegler had caught him flat-footed. “Evan, we are moving through the exploratory stages of the brain chip development at an extreme pace. We are bypassing federal guidelines that insist we spend a certain amount of time on each of the Phase I tests. If we were to comply with the government regulations, it would add months, maybe years, to the development of a brain chip that will give your son upper-body movement. I’m pushing the envelope, Evan. And I’m sticking my neck out for Ben.”
    The gun barrel angled down toward the carpet. “How did Rousseau get this information? I mean, if the systems are so secure.”
    Andrews was relaxing now, knowing that he had disarmed the situation. “Come on, Evan, the guy was a computer programmer and a research scientist with master’s degrees in computers and microbiology. He was no dummy. Once he saw how we were circumventing the federal laws, he saw an opportunity. Whether he was going to go to the police or blackmail us, I have no idea. But we saw it coming and brought you in to stop him.”
    â€œYou keep saying we. Who is the we?”
    â€œThat is none of your business, Evan,” Andrews said, now taking control of the conversation. “And what’s with the gun? You going to shoot me?”
    Evan glanced at the silenced pistol. “No, of course not. It was in case I ran into some of the guards.”
    â€œThen put it away,” Andrews said curtly. “And don’t shoot any of my security guards on the way out.”
    â€œI’ve got another question, Bruce,” Ziegler said, slipping the pistol under his sweater. “How many more people do I have to kill for you? When we first spoke, I thought this would entail removing one of two people, but this is getting ridiculous. I’ve killed four people in cold blood. That’s not what the American government trained me to do. That’s not what I want to do with my life.”
    â€œI pay you well to remove obstacles, Evan,” Andrews retorted.
    â€œI don’t do it for the money,” Evan replied, knowing that his quality of life and his copier business in Denver had profited greatly from the cash Andrews forwarded to him after each hit. “I just want Ben out of that chair.”
    Andrews nodded and leaned forward. “That’s why I approached you, Evan. The SEALs gave you certain skills that I need, and I have what it will take to get your son walking again. I would never have asked you to help me if Ben didn’t desperately need the technology Veritas is developing. I knew when I embarked on the brain chip program that I would face heavy opposition, that there would be people who would do anything to stop it. Some people feel a moral obligation to oppose it; others want to stop it for economic reasons. It’s a drain on our finances, Evan. It reduces research in other sectors. Scientists don’t like watching their funding go somewhere else. They’re funny that way. And sometimes they react much differently than an ordinary person with a normal IQ would. And when those threats become real, I call you.”
    â€œHow much longer, Bruce?” Evan asked in a hushed