There was a single thread of light, the only speck of brightness that enlightened the cell. The crammed walls of the cell made me feel claustrophobic. The chains were still intact to my arms, pinning me down on my knees for every moment that I spent in this dreadful place. My mind was blank all the time, having thoughts pained my mind, making me feel lethargic and wondered how detestable a human could be, or at least that was what I thought.
It was the times when I was a researcher at the MIT and working underground for the Pentagon. They called me a biologist. I thought of myself as a God. The first gene alteration was made happened by my hands, researchers often recognised the fact that there were only adenine, thymine, guanine, and cytosine in our genes. I took a piecemeal approach to reaffirm that there were more than we expected in the genetic codes. There were enigmatic twinnings between the codes which made them easily distinguishable and a more outlandish pattern was to be observed.
Days turned into weeks, then into months. No project or research ever dragged to a year span because all of these was a cinch to me, it was akin to telling the world how the back of my palm looked like. It was the data collection part which elongated my research period because I was a lone ranger, I was unwilling to work with other people, I could not get along with them and this field was more dangerous than any field. The previous lab assistant was nearly killed because she messed up some reagent, turning the whole lab hazardous for a month, and was fired by me because I did not want anyone to be dead working beside me.
The gene alteration project, namely project Creator, was confiscated by the interpol when I finished it. I wanted to share this piece of work to the world, but it did not make it, project Creator landed in the hands of the world government, the wrong hands. My lab was forced to shut down, not only project Creator was taken, every single file in my data storage were in the wrong hands.
The projects were theoretically completed, it was just lacking of trial and error. Some of them were cloning, transgenic animals, biological weapons, aqua lungs, and many more. If all these went into the wrong hands, the human race would be screwed.
After the higher authority robbed my lifetime’s work, they asked me to stop and gave me pension, 1 million US dollars per annum, and acres of land. I was 31, I had not even reached the apogee of my life, I had yet make a breakthrough in my life, and the higher authorities wanted me to stay out and live a sedentary life. Like hell I’m gonna agree with them.
“Mr. Walter Caine, I am here with the name of the interpol,” it was a Chinese guy, “to offer you the last chance to hand over all of your work in your personal laptop, if you agree…”
“Hell no!” I slammed the phone shut. Trouble was suspended in the air, I had notioned the international forces to hunt me down. I packed the laptop into my bag, I brought an extra bag for diversion. I knew even if they had taken my laptop, they would throw my ass into jail or something even worse. I needed to run.
Little did I know, I was running from the world, there was nowhere for me to run to, everywhere I turned, I would be screwed. But, at least I tried to run.
The first step out of my apartment, I received a message on my phone, WALTER CAINE, 31, DANGEROUS INTERNATIONAL CRIMINAL, IF SEEN PLEASE CONTACT THE POLICE IMMEDIATELY. It even had my photo attached to it. I dumped my phone into the trash, raced down the apartment, hoping to catch the next flight out of America.
As soon as I at the bottom of the apartment, hundreds of guns were pointing at me. “Mr. Walter Caine, you are arrested by the police! Surrender now, you have nowhere to run!”
“shit.” I uttered under my breath, dropped myself on the floor, hands above my head. Two police came, cuffed me up, took my briefcase with all my work in it, and shoved me into an armoured police truck with multiple sturdy officers with guns sitting beside me. It was a bumpy ride, I was in total oblivion of my whereabouts, I sat there, thinking about the susceptibilities of getting out of their grasp.
After all, my laptop was empty, nothing could be obtained from there, all of the data were inside my body, circulating in my bloodstream in scrupulously made nano-chips, a device which was made of flesh and acted like a hard drive, even the MRI scanners had a tough time locating these tiny devices.
The truck stopped, I was rammed into a jet, handcuffs still on and a few men tagged along. I was not expecting someone who was held custody by the world government would be transported using a jet. I played their game, I did not struggle against them because it would be utterly useless. My mind was preoccupied with the harbinger that was imminent, my anxiety tensed, no thoughts could scoop me out of this concussion of thoughts.
The jet was landing, the pilot landed us safely. I was escorted by heavily-armed soldiers, they were the interpol or the secret service I reckoned, they had no identification located around their bodies, they worn all black, shades, cap and black masks to completely shadow their identity.
I skimmed my surroundings and realised I was above a base on the sea without shores. It was a rendezvous point for the government choppers and nothing else, this place could only fit two or three jets. A block of black concrete erected from the ground in front of me, they marched me against the howling winds of the sea into the incognito part of the world.