- "INTERLUDE: Biotechnica"
Miles Henderson, Executive Vice President of Operations, looked up from behind his large oaken desk as Trevor Dodson entered his lush office on the 75th floor of Biotechnica's Night City Regional Headquarters. It was 2:30 in the morning and Miles was ready to head on back to his luxury suite for the night. Few people were in the office this late at night and he was surprised to see his chief of internal security here.
"What now Trevor?" He asked in an annoyed tone.
Trevor stood unrebuffed by the remark. He had spent 25 years in some of the most demanding assignments of Biotechnica's Operations Divisions. He knew more about Biotechnica's Grey and Black ops than any other man in Night City AND he had the complete trust of the inner circle. A fact that Exec. VP Miles Henderson was painfully aware of.
"Sir, I have uncovered an op being run out of one of our subsidiaries that was not given clearance by you." Dodson spoke with candor looking for any sign of reaction from Henderson.
Miles shook his head. "So, this wouldn't be the first time an op was run behind my back...what's your game Trevor?" Miles turned off the recording devices in the office. "Why inform me of this, unless..." He left the unasked question hanging in the air. Usually when he was not informed, it meant a black op that Trevor was directly overseeing, but if Dodson didn't know anything, what then?
Dodson registered Miles reaction carefully. "Then it is unsanctioned. I will put a stop to it immediately."
Miles waved his hand and was about to give his consent when a thought occurred to him. "Which subsidiary?" It was a harmless question, or so he thought.
Trevor, who had been moving towards the doorway, stopped and turned with a smile. Oh, he's gonna love this. "Numan Biolabs."
"Numan!" Miles pounded the air with a clenched fist. "Was he..."
Trevor cut him off, "As far as I am able to ascertain, the operation is being run solely by Mr. Coffin. No one else is privy to it. However, all I have been able to determine at this point is that he has sequestered a delivery van and two unwitting security drivers. They are supposed to make a delivery of unknown type to the New Harbor Mall."
Despite his outward weariness, Miles Henderson's brain was furiously processing the information he had received and deciding upon a course of action. Dominic Coffin, President of Numan Biolabs, had been a thorn in his side for three years now. Always receiving funding, top personnel and equipment from the inner circle, very hush-hush of course. Oh, he tried to keep a low profile, but obviously all that money was being spent on some macabre purpose. If he could uncover what Coffin was up to and use this as leverage against him, a new promotion to Geneva could be in the works.
His course set, Miles dry lips cracked into a wry grin, "Trevor, I want you to have two AVs from Internal Security shadow the delivery vehicle from a discreet distance. I will be here in the office and they are to patch things here directly to me, code Ultraviolet. Do you understand?"
Trevor nodded his assent but inwardly cursed the fool. What the hell does he think he's doing, Dominic Coffin is not a man to be trifled with.
(Early the next morning)
Miles eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep and too many stims. What the hell had gone wrong? Ambushed? By a bunch of kids? This had become an utter disaster.
Now the apparently highjacked delivery vehicle was inside a Chemcorp compound surrounded by the NCPD. Options, options...he needed options!
He jabbed a finger, spraining a knuckle, onto the intercom. "Janet!" He bellowed. "Where the FROCK is my thrice-cursed chief of security!"
At that same moment the doors to his office swished open and in stepped Trevor Dodson with his Cheshire grin. "Good morning, Miles. Sleep well?" He said in a pleasant manner dripping with sarcasm.
Miles ignored the insult. "I have called all of our assets onto the Chemcorp compound. The cover is a chemical leak. However I want to know why Gaia Corp sent an assault team in there!"
Miles looked absolutely distraught. So Trevor decided to milk it for all it was worth. He casually slid a black folder onto the desk in front of Miles. "Interesting ambush party wouldn't you say? Of particular note is the girl, Stephanie Ceres, whose mother Dana is the President and CEO of Gaia Corp."
Miles stared at the pages before him in bewilderment. These men had played him for a fool. There would be no mansion in Geneva, no invitation to the inner circle, and no retirement in the Crystal Palace, he was ruined...utterly and completely. Methodically he began to tear the documents to shreds, his anger boiling over. He glanced over at the still grinning Corp Security Chief with a crazed look in his eyes, "That bastard knew it! He sent you didn't he! Traitor! Get out of my office, before I have you thrown out the window!"
Trevor knew when he had pushed too far and decided that a strategic retreat at this point was necessary. Let Henderson enjoy his last moments in office alone where he had been a total bootlicking tyrant his whole career. It was satisfying to see him fall off from his lofty perch.
Trevor decided to handle the clean up of the mess at the ambush location. To his total surprise, the area had been purified. And it wasn't by the police or his people. This alarmed him somewhat, but before he could investigate further he received a very disturbing secure call.
"Is this Mr. Dodson, Trevor Dodson of B.I.C.S.?"
He was shocked to be receiving a phone call from her. It was not supposed to happen this way. Despite his 25 years, he was a little caught off guard. "Y-Y-Yes, mam. This is Dodson. Uh, how m-m-may I help you?"
She continued despite his stammering, "I would like to inform you that your employer has requested our services in cleaning up the spill in a certain facility. He wants it to be a totally clean operation."
Trevor was shocked. How the hell had Miles Henderson been able to reach these assets? He was supposed to have no clue that they were on station. Things were rapidly spinning out of control and he didn't like it. A growing fear started to develop in his belly and then she spoke her next words in an icy voice that chilled him to the bone. "I do not get my hands dirty cleaning up after kids. Do you understand me or do we need to have a face to face?"
Trevor tried for a few seconds to voice a reply but he hadn't taken a breath for near thirty seconds. Finally he managed to regain a little composure and squeaked out, "Affirmative, I will issue the recall orders personally."
"Fine then." She voiced crisply and then the line went dead.
"Oh god what has Henderson done", thought Henderson to himself as he raced back for his office.
Miles looked around his upturned office. He had gone into a rage when informed that the clean up crew and all Biotechnica assets had been recalled. He had no idea who gave the recall order, but all his calls to relevant parties went unanswered. He was alone and was going to take the fall on this one he was sure of it.
Then his phone rang. Miles stared at it on the floor where he had thrown it in amusement. Cautiously he went over to pick it up. Perhaps that Frickin' Dodson had managed to do something constructive for a change? Slowly he picked up the receiver and held it to his ear.
"The hair has been severed Damocles."
Thirty seconds later Miles Henderson, Executive Vice President Operations of Biotechnica's U.S. West Regional Office plunged 75 stories to his death.
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Last Updated: January 31, 1998
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