Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lexi
Barbie moved deeper into the lab until she stopped in an open area lined with various lab stations and glass-walled observation rooms. She passed by one of the rooms and peeked inside.
The room was empty and a single cage stood open.
A stainless-steel desk with a closed laptop and sink sat in one corner of the room.
Walking on, she paused at one of the lab stations. An open laptop was running a stream of data on two connected monitors. Restraints, biometric scanners, IV poles, laptops, and medical machinery had been scattered on a table nearby.
“I’m taking photos,” she whispered, and I saw quick glimpses of material on screens, medical equipment, and some paperwork. She was too quick for me to read anything.
“Keep track of the time,” I whispered.
“I am,” she said, moving on.
A storage door stood ajar. She eased it open just enough to look inside and flipped on the light.
Crates filled the room, each stamped with PROPERTY OF TANGO BIO RESEARCH SOLUTIONS in bold black lettering.
One crate had been opened and the lid sat askew.
Barbie pushed aside the lid and peeked inside.
Encased in shipping plastic were rows of collars, sleek and matte black.
Thin metallic seams hinted at embedded circuitry.
Beside them, foam-lined trays held hundreds of small objects no bigger than a watch battery and threaded with filaments that looked weirdly organic.
Gwen leaned over my shoulder. “Those look like various types of neural implants.”
That seemed ominous, but as this was not my area of expertise, I could do little more than shrug.
Barbie looked around and we saw rolled blueprints shoved into a corner and paper diagrams taped to the walls labeled with titles like Response Neural Pathways, Cognition Adaption Regions, Behavioral Control Circuitry, and Neurolinguistics and Semantic Mapping.
One label diagram read Research Program Schedule.
Today’s date had been prominently circled in red. Barbie snapped photos of everything.
At a small desk in the corner, papers were scattered across a desk. I could see Barbie shuffling through, looking for anything incriminating. Then she stopped and I heard her gasp in horror.
“What’s wrong?” I asked immediately. “Barbie?”
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “They…they have pictures of animals undergoing surgery. Dogs, cats, pigs, chimps…everything. There are graphic surgical photos of them implanting devices into their brains and their bodies. Oh, no, I think I might be sick.”
My own stomach churned at the thought of it, but I stayed on task. “Barbie, you have to remain calm. Get evidence of those photos. That will sink them for sure. Then move on. Ginger and Tootsie are waiting.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice shakier than I liked.
Somehow she took pictures of the photos, and she quickly left the room, moving farther into the lab. The animal sounds grew louder. Maybe Barbie’s unfamiliar scent had reached them, or the sound of her footsteps.
“The air seems warmer here and the animal scents are more pronounced,” Barbie said in a quiet voice. “Just how many animals do they have in here?”
The corridor finally opened into a holding area, and I saw cages and large enclosures. The cages were occupied this time.
An orange cat pressed itself against the bars of the nearest enclosure, its yellow eyes reflecting the dim lights, pupils wide.
“Barbie, can you turn on a light so we can see better?” I asked.
She turned on the lights. A closer peek inside showed at least a half dozen or more cats inside the enclosure.
She moved on to the next cage and jumped back as a pig snorted and stamped, its heavy body shifting nervously.
She moved on to the adjoining enclosure, and we gasped in unison as a chimpanzee’s dark eyes locked onto Barbie with terrifying intelligence.
He chattered and grabbed at the front of his cage, causing her to stumble back a few steps.
“Is that what I think it is?” I said, shocked.
“Yes, a chimpanzee. This is worse than I ever imagined,” Barbie said, her voice shaking. “Horrible. No way do they have permission or certs for any of this. I’m taking another photo.”
“What’s happening?” Basia asked, and I gave the girls in the car a brief update.
The next enclosure was much bigger and held at least a half dozen large dogs. Some were separated by a glass wall, while others had been grouped together. Thankfully, none barked at her. I wondered if they wore some kind of no-bark electronic collar, but a couple of them did growl.
“I still haven’t found Ginger or Tootsie yet,” she whispered.
“Keep going,” I said.
The noise spiked with chattering, squealing, scratching, and the metallic rattle of bars. “There are more animals back here,” she said.
She moved cautiously, looking in each cage. It took every ounce of patience I had to keep from screaming at her to hurry. The animal sounds followed her down the rows of cages, the echoing noise compounding.
Where in the world are they keeping Ginger and Tootsie?
Then I heard it…a soft whine. Barbie rounded the corner, and there she was.
Ginger stood alone inside a reinforced glass enclosure at the end of the hall, her golden fur duller than before, a sleek black vest strapped snugly around her torso. Her ears lifted the instant she saw Barbie. She took a cautious step back.
“Is this Ginger?” Barbie asked.
“Yes. Kneel by the glass, take out your phone, and disconnect the earbuds for a minute so I can talk to her.”
Barbie did as I asked, pressing the phone near the glass.
“Hey, Ginger,” I called out. “Are you okay, girl? It’s me.”
Ginger reciprocated by coming over to the glass and pressing her nose to it. I could see her breath fogging the barrier between us.
“You can’t see me, but it’s okay,” I said. “You need to trust this woman here. She’s going to get you out of there.”
Ginger wagged her tail, and for the first time since Barbie stepped inside the lab, I thought we might actually make it.
“Her dog is in here, too,” I continued. “A little black-and-tan terrier. If you understand and know where the dog is, can you show her? And then you guys are all getting of there.”
“Okay,” Barbie said, standing up and reconnecting her earbuds. “Let me get her out of the enclosure and see if she can help me find Tootsie.”
“You don’t have a lot of time left before the party starts,” I warned her.
She glanced down at her phone, where the timer displayed the minutes left. “Understood. Just give me a few moments to send you these photos for safekeeping.”
She took less than thirty seconds to choose the photos and text them to me. My phone dinged and a quick glance confirmed I had them.
“I’ve got them,” I said. “Now go find Tootsie and get the hell out of there.”