60 Prologue 1 (2/2)
Mitchell pauses and unrolls the crumpled packet to skim the details within before continuing. ”They continue to mourn her every year on social media and support any disaster aid groups that come to investigate the coasts. None of which have gotten authorization to enter further into the country in the last eight years. It's unlikely she has made contact with them without us knowing through a radio broadcast, and not a blip has shown up on her social media accounts or call log records in sixteen years,” Mitchell's green eyes hesitantly glance at the woman in the black turtleneck when she finishes then averts her eyes down at the table while grasping for her glass of water. Her hand trembles as she drinks from the glass and sets it down on the black coaster.
The next scientist to debrief sits on the other side of Dr. Lee and has her packet flipped over, splayed out across the oak tabletop. She has been sipping at her beverage for quite some time. Dr. Lee clears his throat and smiles back across the table at the newest employee, but she can see the way his lips fight to hide the disdain clearly seen in the tilt of his head and within his cold, coal black eyes. Finally, the woman with the sideways name tag, that reads Dr. S. Plum, sets her glass down on her packet and raises a hand to cough into it.
The woman in the turtleneck leans forward to pick up her own drink. She presses her smirking lips to the edge of the glass to swallow lukewarm water. 'I want what she's having.'
”We've got nothing. She shouldn't be alive. There is no trail to find. We don't know why she would be at the Coldstone facility, it was one of the first places evacuated and there shouldn't be any leftover data at that site,” Dr. Plum's slow, depressed drawl highlights how she feels on the matter.
”All evacuated facilities were ordered to enact Operation Blackout,” she pauses a moment to swallow. ”There's nothing there. Our sources say there is nothing but scavengers out there and those creatures. It's a dead end,” the report finishes with a shake of her head. She runs a hand over the top of her head to settle a few unruly strands of hair. Debrief complete, she wastes no time reaching for her glass and gulping down the last of the clear liquid within.
Finally, the woman in the turtleneck joins the discussion. She is leaning back in her chair and holding her steepled hands against her chin while looking down at her lap.
”Where has she been hiding? Was there a traitor in the River City branch? Who has she had contact with? How did she survive the bombing without hiding inside the underground shelter? What is her physical condition? Has she had any mutations that were exhibited by,” she pulls up a small, black leather notepad from her lap and reads the words on the pad verbatim, ”the subjects of the gene therapy Project 5S.Q held by Muller-Brady?”
”Ms. Royal. We've--” Dr. Lee begins.
”Dr. Royal, please,” the consultant corrects while looking down at another page of her notepad.
”We've given you all the information we have on the subject. None of those questions can be answered at this time. We lack resources and have no samples of her current condition,” Dr. Lee gestures to the room with the hand still holding the sheets of stapled pages. His jaw clenches as he refrains from scowling at the younger woman, her pierced eyebrow, and closely cropped hair. 'How could you possibly make sense of this situation?'
”A lot has happened in sixteen years. We'll have to work together to figure this mess out. That's why I'm here, correct?” Dr. Royal flips a page in her notepad. ”I'll need to see all the inventory logs for River City branch from the start of 1999 to 2018.I'll need all the records for all the subjects involved in Project 5S.Q. Send me a copy of all of her broadcasts. I've already begun going over the personnel files of the employees that worked within the River City branch before its destruction,” she keeps her attention on the scientists in her peripheral as she flips to another page in her notepad.
Dr. Adams keeps his attention fixed on his laptop and Dr. Mitchell tenses up, reaches for her packet on the table to hide its crumpled form on her lap. Dr. Plum's gaze is transfixed on her empty glass. The head scientist appears calm as the youthful consultant closes her notepad and sets her amber gaze upon him once again.
”Have you had any contact with Charles Williams?” she leans back in her chair and waits for an answer.
Dr. Lee doesn't repress the grimace that comes with hearing that name, beside him, Dr. Plum nearly chokes on a laugh, swivels her chair sideways, and tilts her head to the side while making eye contact with the other woman. The smile plastered on her face doesn't reach her eyes. ”He's last been seen at the National Park that surrounds Washington city, Mercalia. It usually takes us approximately three days for our courier to make contact and return with a response, unless an incident occurs before or after contact is made. It's not ideal.”
”And you've kept the company informed of all of the developments pertaining to him up until this point?”
Dr. Plum lifts a thin hand, the gold band around her ring finger shines in the light, and tips it back and forth like an uneven scale, ”More or less.”
The consultant nods and assesses Dr. Plum's unfocused green eyes and feverish cheeks. Slowly, she reopens her notepad and flips through a few pages until she finds the correct one and sets it down on the table. She leans back in her chair and swivels it to the side to look at Dr. Mitchell. ”Tell me about the Savages. Charles Williams seems to have made a name for himself in all this...chaos. How much of an advantage does that bring us?”