Chapter 177: A deal with the devil

Inside the lab, Mr. Cross moved with barely contained excitement. He didn’t fully understand what the AW01 project was, not yet, but he understood enough.

This was going to make him more money than he already had, and for a man like him, that was reason enough to smile at every stranger in a lab coat and nod along at things he didn’t quite follow.

He walked through the facility with his team trailing behind him, a handful of medical professionals and scientists he had personally selected for this.

He peered over shoulders, glanced at monitors full of numbers he couldn’t read, watched researchers move between stations with quiet, practiced efficiency.

When Don Konstantin arrived, the room seemed to shift around him, the way rooms do around men who are used to being obeyed.

The don explained it simply. The AW01 project, he said, was developing vaccines and medication for patients in need. Groundbreaking work. Important work.

Mr. Cross’s eyes lit up. This was exactly the kind of story he liked to be part of.

Things began moving quickly after that.

Don Konstantin led him and his team out of the main lab and into a second building. He walked them through it himself, unhurried, gesturing occasionally toward doors and hallways as though giving a tour of something he was proud of.

That was when Mr. Cross saw them.

Men. Women. Several of them, suspended in tall glass tubes filled with pale, faintly glowing liquid. Wires and tubes ran into their skin. Their eyes were closed. Some of them did not look entirely peaceful.

Mr. Cross stopped walking. His mouth opened before his mind had fully caught up with what he was seeing.

"They are test subjects," the don said before Mr. Cross could even finish forming the question. His tone was flat, almost bored, the way one might describe furniture.

"None of the vaccines so far have worked on them. That is where your team comes in. You will begin after you examine the virus. Then you will make the vaccine."

"What," Mr. Cross started. "I thought the vaccine was," He stopped himself there, the words drying up in his throat.

Because until this exact moment, he had believed, truly believed that they were making history. Solving something. Fixing something broken in the world. He had never imagined, not for a single second, that the real plan involved something far darker, creating the virus first, releasing it, letting it spread, and then selling the cure to a world desperate enough to pay anything for it.

It was cruel. It was calculated. And now, standing in that cold, white room surrounded by glass tubes and silent bodies, Mr. Cross finally understood exactly what he had signed himself into.

"Don," he tried again, his voice thinner now, uncertain.

"For security reasons," Carina said smoothly, stepping forward before he could finish, "you will all stay here. Once your job is done, you will be allowed to leave, and your payment will be transferred to your accounts."

She paused, letting her eyes settle on him, calm and unblinking.

"And for motivation," she continued, "your wife and daughter will be brought here as well. They will be fine. As long as you finish."

The color drained slowly from Mr. Cross’s face.

"What?" His voice cracked, rising now, panic bleeding into it. "That was not part of the deal. My family has nothing to do with this. And this project, this is not what I thought it was." He shook his head, stepping back slightly, as if putting distance between himself and the glass tubes might undo what he had already seen. "I do not want to be part of this project any longer."

"I think you do not understand what is happening here," Carina said, her voice smooth and unbothered, as though she were explaining something as simple as directions to a nearby store.

"Yes, you came here of your own free will. That does not mean you get to walk out whenever you feel like it. You made a deal with the devil, Mr. Cross." She let a small, humorless smile touch her lips.

"Now drop the moral integrity. What did you think this was? A charity project?"

Beside her, Don Konstantin pulled out a thick cigar, turning it slowly between his fingers before simply holding it, unlit, watching the scene unfold with quiet satisfaction. He didn’t need to say a word. Carina had been trained well. She was handling everything without him having to lift a finger.

He leaned toward her and murmured something low, something only she could hear. Then he turned and walked away, his white coat trailing behind him like smoke.

Carina nodded once and tapped something into her tablet.

Somewhere else in the compound, in a room far from all of this, Aria and Mrs. Cross sat unaware, unsuspecting. Aria was curled up on the bed, a book open in her lap, when the air around her shifted, subtle at first, and then unmistakable. A strong, strange scent began to fill the room, seeping in from vents she couldn’t see.

Back in the lab, Carina turned the tablet toward Mr. Cross, letting him see the screen for himself.

"You have two weeks to finish this project," she said. "Or your daughter dies. She has the AW virus now." She said it as casually as reading off a grocery list. "Believe me, after two weeks, if she doesn’t receive the first vaccine shot, it becomes aggressive. You will not want her to be in that kind of pain."

"No," Mr. Cross breathed, his voice cracking, all the color gone from his face. "Please. Not my baby."

"You and your team of scientists have something to build on," Carina continued, unmoved. "Lucky for you, others came before you."

The room had gone dead silent, every scientist frozen in place, terror written plainly across their faces. Mr. Cross dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached toward her, begging.

"Please," he said. "Don’t hurt her. Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt my little girl."

"You only need to build from the research others have already done," Carina said, ignoring him entirely. "Your time starts now." She glanced toward the door. "And don’t worry. Don Konstantin pays well."

She pressed something on her tablet, and a low mechanical hum rolled through the walls as the entire lab sealed itself shut, heavy doors locking into place one by one. Without another word, she turned and walked out, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

For a long moment, nobody moved.

"What are we going to do?" one of the doctors finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper, staring at Mr. Cross with something between fear and blame. He was the one who had dragged them all into this.

Mr. Cross wiped a shaking hand across his face. When he looked up, something in his eyes had hardened, some last, desperate resolve settling into place.

"Get to work," he said. He had a daughter to save.