The Twist of Fate

           The Twist of Fate

Suzanne Marsh

“Hey, are you sure we are on the right road?” Grant Mellon; one of the journalists, who were seeking the location of a laboratory that was testing a Filo Virus as a biological weapon. Russia had been making claims that the United States was supplying the Ukraine with biological warfare weapons. Stating to the world that was the primary reason that Russia invaded the Ukraine. Time would tell, as the journalists traveled toward Kiev in the LADA Granta SUV. The roads were in poor condition from the bombings, buildings were destroyed, everywhere the journalists looked there was devastation from the war. The laboratory they were seeking was located in the Bykivnia Forest just outside of Kiev. The team of journalists were getting worried they were lost:

“Hey Grant, look at that map Professor Lampkin sent I am sure we are lost.”

“Shelly, you said you knew where you were going.”

“I thought I did and according to the GPS we are going in the correct direction. We should

see the Darnystia River shortly, the lab is located on the south side.”

“Shelly, if you are sure the GPS coordinates are correct, lets keep moving.”

Several miles down the road Shelly noted a squat white building:

“Hey, this is it. Who did Professor Lampkin suggest we ask once we have arrived?”

Grant pulled out his Smart Phone: “Professor Vladimir Smirnov or his American counterpart

Professor Marty Pine. I’ll call now.

Grant pulled his cell phone, pushed in the number, a voice answered:

“Hello, this Vladimir Smirnov, I am unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message.”

Grant hung up:

“Hey anybody have the cell phone number for Professor Marty Pine?”

Shelly replied:

“My cell is in my purse, Pine was a professor I had my last semester at Harvard.”

Shelly handed Grant her purse”

“Shelly I can’t go into your purse.”

“Grant, I don’t have anything to hide, I think it will be toward the bottom. I sort of use it as

a tote bag.”

Grant began to go through the purse:

“No wonder you use it as a tote Shelly, you have everything in here. I found the phone,

you were right it was on the bottom.”

Grant, removed the cell phone and dialed, a voice quickly answered:

“Hello”

“Hello, Professor Pine, my name is Grant Mellon, I am one of the four journalists that

were invited to your facility. Can you please give me directions.:

“Where are you?”

“We are in front of a long white building with a flat roof.”

“You are here young man. I will open the door. Please come in. Your tour will begin

after lunch.”

“Hey, we were right this is the building. Let’s get some shots of the exterior.”

Marc Thompson, was the photojournalist:

“This building somehow seems out of place here. I’ll take some quick shots, then we can

go in.”

Just as Marc began to take photos the heavy metal door swung open, there in the entrance stood a squat little man with dark hair, and eyes as black as soot:

“Allow me to introduce myself, I am Professor Martin Pine and you people are?”

“I am Grant Mellon, the guy with the camera is Marc Thompson, the young woman on my

right is Shelly Anderson and on my left is Molly Smith-Ryes. You were contacted this

past week of our arrival.”

Pine, appeared dismayed and confused:

“Are you sure Mr. Mellon that arrangements were made, I have no recollection of such a

matter.”

“Yes, we are the journalists that are here to do a story about how pathogens work.”

“We have no pathogens here, we are research facility.”

“Well, as long as you are here, please do come in, I will take you on a short tour of the

facility then you must leave.”

Pine pointed out different areas of what he assumed was of interest to these people. He did not wish to arouse suspicion. He wondered how they knew about the pathogens, he realized then, they could not leave the premises. Biological warfare was still coming into its own, Pine knew what the consequences were if they were caught. Therefore, all four would have to die.

It would be a simple matter to murder them with the Marburg Virus mixed with Eboli, its cousin. He decided he would offer them lodging for the night. He took them to the cafeteria then to the two rooms they would have to share. They had not ever expected to have guests here, but provisions were made for the event. Once his guests were settled in, he went to find Smirnov:

“Vladimir, we have company. We have to rid ourselves of them tonight.”

“Dey are not going to do damage to thes project.”

“They are journalists, they will tell what they saw.”

“What do you plan Martin?”

“I was thinking of mixing Marberg virus with Eboli, they will die in minutes. We could make

them think they are volunteering for a special project. Once injected it will only be a matter

of a short while. No one will come looking here for them.”

“Der iss alvays someone who will look, have you not learned that?”

“If we don’t, they will find our dark little secret.”

“Ve can show dem the project with the mix of chorine and Agent 15, that is gas and less

of a problem for us to explain.”

“Yes, of course Vladimir, that is an excellent idea. We can show them on a few rats.”

“Da, good idea.”

The four journalists felt well rested the following morning, it was very gracious, they thought of the two professors to be so accommodating. Once they had been to the cafeteria, they were ready for the day. Grant Mellon, begged off stating that he wanted to walk around the grounds. The other three meet with the professors. Smirnov greeted them and began the tour of the labs:

“Ve have arrived at the site where we test gases. We have created a BUZZ/Chlorine gas, that

can kill anything within a radius of one hundred miles. Would you care to take a look at

how we made it adaptable for any military use?”

The journalists were enthusiastic as they stepped through the door and into the lab. Suddenly the steel door slammed shut, making them virtual prisoners. Gas began to seep in with in a minute and a half all three were dead:

“Where iss de other vone?”

“I don’t know, perhaps we should send guards out to find him.”

Grant had returned from his walk, he had hidden behind a desk and observed the murder of the other three. He fled quickly, since he had the keys to their LADA Granta he drove out of there before he became victim number four. He was horrified at what he had just witnessed. He could just see the headline: “Three journalists murdered at lab in Ukraine”. He drove out of the forest, feeling thankful that he had survived: he thought of the other three who died for nor reason. He told his story to his managing editor. The story was enough to close down the lab. The gases were disposed of the two professors were sentenced to gulags in Russia.