| Chapter Twenty-three |
Using two-way video conferencing devices, the poacher boss could watch as Wolf showed off the more extraordinary
pieces of the collection. Cubs codenamed Charlie-alpha and Charlie-bravo.
The cage sat center-screen, real enough to touch. But the man was almost in fear that a wonderful dream would end. In
the cage were two of the most valuable, dangerous and top-secret biological weapons on the planet. When grown, each
one could be used to take out some less-developed nation’s armies. Or break into anything short of Fort Knox. Or
destroy several city-blocks worth of, say, Los Angeles or Tokyo.
Or, more to the point, to survive enough bullets and shrapnel to plant and trigger small nuclear bombs.
None of this was the poaching tycoon’s concern, of course, the price tag was. As soon as Dr. Tashikoto and Japanese
Imperial Black Ops had learned their prize bio-weapon project Cub Charlie had fathered cubs before burning himself to
death like a feline phoenix, money was being offered like it actually did grow on trees, after all. Ten million American per
cub’s stable DNA sample, ten times that amount if the bodies were intact. And a cool $1 billion USD if they could actually
deliver two living cubs. Regaining his composure the man found his voice.
“Put them in the delivery crate, we’ll drop them with the rest of the haul. How are they handling the knockout toxins?”
“As expected,” Wolf replied. “They metabolize it eight times faster than normal, the female especially. She is a wild one. I
would recommend keeping her out of the crate until we need to drop it. We don’t want her to wake up fighting and hurt
the other cargo.”
“Do it.” Noticing the burlap sack at Wolf’s feet, the man asked, “What’s in the bag, Wolf?”
Silas smiled and opened the drawstring bag as he answered, “This, Boss, is a little bonus we picked up. You’ll have to
see it for yourself.”
Once the cub was out of the bag, the man in the wheelchair zoomed in his camera. “Interesting… is it the usual mutation
or is it a real albino?”
“We’re not exactly sure yet…”
“Come on, Wolf, look at its eyes! If they’re blue it’s the mutation, if they’re pink he’s an albino!”
“That’s just it… he’s got one of each! And darker areas and this!” Wolf turned the cub’s face so the metallic golden mark
was visible. The boss gawked.
“Silas, you didn’t paint that on, did you?”
“No way, Boss, it’s real fur. Doc Collins is running the blood work in between his turns in the cockpit. We’ll give you the
report as soon as we know anything. So… we were thinking…”
“Yes, Wolf, as long it’s not a hoax you’ll get extra for it. Keep it safe until the drop. Maybe keep it outside the crate until
you throw the female Charlie cub in as well. It will make an excellent addition to my menagerie. The exotic menagerie of
Reginald C. McCleach!”
pieces of the collection. Cubs codenamed Charlie-alpha and Charlie-bravo.
The cage sat center-screen, real enough to touch. But the man was almost in fear that a wonderful dream would end. In
the cage were two of the most valuable, dangerous and top-secret biological weapons on the planet. When grown, each
one could be used to take out some less-developed nation’s armies. Or break into anything short of Fort Knox. Or
destroy several city-blocks worth of, say, Los Angeles or Tokyo.
Or, more to the point, to survive enough bullets and shrapnel to plant and trigger small nuclear bombs.
None of this was the poaching tycoon’s concern, of course, the price tag was. As soon as Dr. Tashikoto and Japanese
Imperial Black Ops had learned their prize bio-weapon project Cub Charlie had fathered cubs before burning himself to
death like a feline phoenix, money was being offered like it actually did grow on trees, after all. Ten million American per
cub’s stable DNA sample, ten times that amount if the bodies were intact. And a cool $1 billion USD if they could actually
deliver two living cubs. Regaining his composure the man found his voice.
“Put them in the delivery crate, we’ll drop them with the rest of the haul. How are they handling the knockout toxins?”
“As expected,” Wolf replied. “They metabolize it eight times faster than normal, the female especially. She is a wild one. I
would recommend keeping her out of the crate until we need to drop it. We don’t want her to wake up fighting and hurt
the other cargo.”
“Do it.” Noticing the burlap sack at Wolf’s feet, the man asked, “What’s in the bag, Wolf?”
Silas smiled and opened the drawstring bag as he answered, “This, Boss, is a little bonus we picked up. You’ll have to
see it for yourself.”
Once the cub was out of the bag, the man in the wheelchair zoomed in his camera. “Interesting… is it the usual mutation
or is it a real albino?”
“We’re not exactly sure yet…”
“Come on, Wolf, look at its eyes! If they’re blue it’s the mutation, if they’re pink he’s an albino!”
“That’s just it… he’s got one of each! And darker areas and this!” Wolf turned the cub’s face so the metallic golden mark
was visible. The boss gawked.
“Silas, you didn’t paint that on, did you?”
“No way, Boss, it’s real fur. Doc Collins is running the blood work in between his turns in the cockpit. We’ll give you the
report as soon as we know anything. So… we were thinking…”
“Yes, Wolf, as long it’s not a hoax you’ll get extra for it. Keep it safe until the drop. Maybe keep it outside the crate until
you throw the female Charlie cub in as well. It will make an excellent addition to my menagerie. The exotic menagerie of
Reginald C. McCleach!”
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