The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,31
almost none of them.’
Bianca pursed her lips, considering it. ‘These drugs of yours – what are they?’
‘They’re called Neutharsine, Hyperthymexine and Mnemexal. Can’t tell you what they actually do yet, I’m afraid – classified. Although I’m sure you can make educated guesses from the corrupted Latin in the names. But they’re an offshoot of the development I did on Netronal, if you remember that.’
‘Of course I remember; I helped you with some of the lab work when I was a postgrad.’ She paused, puzzled. ‘Wait – I thought Netronal didn’t get picked up?’
‘No, but the new drugs built off my old research.’
‘So they’re related to memory formation?’
‘Again, I can’t say anything just yet. But please, Bianca, it’s not exaggerating to say that my future – and my mother’s – depends on my keeping this job. All I’m asking is that you act as my substitute for a few weeks. You might not even be needed; it depends if they carry out any operations. The whole thing could end up as nothing more than a paid vacation, and Washington’s a fascinating place to visit. I know you’d like the National Gallery of Art.’
Another pause for thought. ‘I’m not going to commit to anything until I know more about what I’m supposed to be doing,’ she said. ‘But . . . I’ll at least find out what that is before I make a decision.’
Albion tried to cover his disappointment. ‘Well, that’s as much as I could hope for right now, I suppose.’
She took his hand. ‘Roger, I mean it – I’ll see what they have to say. And, you know . . . I really don’t want you or Rosemary to starve.’ A smile, her first for a while. ‘But whatever happens, I want you to get better, okay?’
‘Believe me, it’s at the top of my to-do list.’
Bianca kissed his cheek. ‘All right. I’ll tell you what I decide before I go back to England. See you again soon.’
‘Bye, Bianca. And thank you for coming.’
‘Thank you for an intriguing proposition.’
‘Don’t thank me just yet,’ he said quietly after she left the room.
10
The Admiral
‘
So, what do you think of Washington?’
Bianca pulled her gaze away from the streets outside the government-issue black SUV to look at Tony. ‘Roger said it was interesting. He was right.’ The ride had taken her past the Capitol and what she recognised from an addiction to The X-Files in her youth as the FBI building, even giving her a brief view of the White House before continuing north-west into the city’s business district.
‘Yeah, it’s quite a place.’
Now that she was over her initial surprise and bewilderment at the whole situation, she had been able to give her companion a more thorough assessment. Tony was handsome and well-built, a wily intelligence behind his pale blue eyes – which met hers as he glanced away from the road. She realised he was also appraising her, making her feel briefly and foolishly self-conscious, wondering if she was being rated as highly on his internal scale as he was on hers.
As if sensing this, he smiled in reassurance. ‘We’re almost there.’ He indicated a building ahead.
Their destination was a modern but mundane office block, standing apart from its equally ordinary neighbours on a tree-lined street. A large sign read HELMONT DATA SYSTEMS, INC. She peered up at the building as the SUV drove into an underground parking area beneath it.
‘Something wrong?’ asked Tony.
‘No, I just assumed we’d be going to CIA headquarters.’
‘Helmont exclusively does contract work for the US government, including the CIA,’ he replied, as if that explained everything. The SUV went down to the first subterranean level, stopping near an elevator.
They got out and went to the lift. A uniformed guard was waiting for them. Tony showed him his ID, then produced several pages of closely printed text. One of the many frightening security agreements Bianca had signed on the plane, she saw, recognising her own signature on the last page. The man scrutinised it, then nodded. Tony inserted his card into a reader beside the elevator; a green light came on, and the doors opened. ‘After you,’ he said.
Bianca entered, immediately noticing security cameras mounted prominently in each corner of the ceiling. ‘It’s a good thing cameras don’t really steal your soul,’ she said, trying to cover her sudden nervousness. ‘You’ve got plenty of them!’
He grinned. ‘I dunno, that might explain a lot about people who work their whole lives in Washington.’ The joke eased her tension, slightly.