Saam Hasan
He eyed the Professor with caution. The rest of his team was already sweeping the entire place, turning the various equipment and machines inside out, taking hold of every piece of paper, and generally stripping the facility for any clues.
“Professor Dawson,” he said, not taking his eyes off the man, “believe me when I say this, I want to help you. You have a tremendous reputation as a scientist, you’ve been a great contributor to our society. Please, don’t make this any harder for yourself.”
He leaned in close.
“Tell me, what’s going on here?”
Dawson was unmoved.
“I do believe I have the right to an attorney before you interrogate me.”
“Sir,” one of the officers interrupted the stare-down.
“Did you find anything?”
“Not yet, sir. We’ve pretty much covered the entire facility, all that’s left are the files on one computer which are locked by an eye scan.”
“Fetch them.”
The man stood there for a moment, looking rather perplexed.
“You heard me, right?”
“Ah, yes. Right away, sir.”
“I do believe the eye scan in question can only be unlocked by you?” He turned his focus back on Dawson.
There was no answer.
“Look”, he sighed, his voice rising, “we know our reports are true, we know what you’ve been cooking up here. Damn it, Dawson, we’re talking about a national level threat. The King’s personal office had to call us in.”
The Professor’s face was paper white, cold and soulless.
“Fine. But rest assured, I will find out what you’re up to, and who you’re working for. I gave you your chance, you’re finished now.”
“And what is this threat you were warned about?” Dawson finally spoke.
He smacked his lips, carefully measuring his prisoner. He took a deep breath.
“A biological weapon. You’ve been working on one.”
“Was that what you were told?”
The words hit him like a slap across the face. Come to think of it, no. The exact wording of the reports were obscure. They said the lab was working on something that could be used to harm the nation, perhaps even target the monarchy. A few vague murmurs had suggested it could be a DNA based weapon.
“Something like it,” his voice shook ever so slightly, “A DNA virus, a carcinogen, plenty of options for your kind to explore, if you so choose.”
Suddenly, there was a rush of footsteps behind him. Half a dozen of his men appeared from the back; none of them were carrying a computer however.
“Well?”
“Sir, we did find something that you might wanna see”.
He furrowed his brow.
“It’s a DNA report…of the King”.
Dawson issued the faintest of laughs.
“The monarchy, not the nation”, said the Professor, a resigned smile on his face.