[u][center][h1][color=olive]Jacqueline Freeman[/color][/h1][/center][/u] [indent]Location: Financial District, Gene Co. within the branch office Timeline: Week and few days after the riots (present), Morning [/indent] Jacqueline’s slender hands folded under her chin, her fingers overlapped each other. Her steely eyes stared harshly into her laptop computer settled in her petite lap. The system within it was designed to be an ever adapting cryption, one that thought and reacted like an intelligent AI, making it almost impossible to be hijacked by any normal human or computer. Mostly because there was false openings for outsiders to become trapped in the system. Whenever a hacker had found a window, the firewall pulled them in and immediately shut off all exits much like a rat trap. Then it broke down the signal, installing a virus within the data it stole then allowed it to return with ‘ghost’ data. When it entered an individual's computer the damage was started the moment they looked into their hard earned prize. Often it fried the processor, broke down the operation system and erased the memory making the damage absolute. It was a dirty and underhanded tactic that had taken several hundred hackers the first time it went up. It was a fitting style for the original creator himself: Cyrus Black. A well known hacker who had broken into the pentagon, stolen money and managed to repeat the offense five times under different aliases. Sadly the fifth time had ended up getting him unwanted attention, quickly resulting in his arrest in Lost Haven ten years prior. Extremely impressed with his recorder, Jacqueline had gone through painstaking efforts to get in contact with him in the last year or so. Her intentions had been for him to construct a hacker proof system using an adapting program that was built to keep others like him at bay. In the end it made sense that a system built by a notorious hacker, one who knew the best ways to get in and tear up a system, would be ideal to know how to fend off such attacks by others like him. It took a snake to beat one in this world, a fact many people were blind to due to their over excessive need for nobility. Jacqueline continued her rambling thoughts as she leaned back and reached for her salted caramel mocha coffee, the heat still wafted off the top of her ceramic mug. It was simple, white through it held the markings of a top brand like the rest of her office. After going most her life without the basic essentials she had made a habit to pamper each moment she got. To forget her days living on the street, starving or shivering, while sitting in her own shit and piss for weeks. It might’ve explained why she was a minor germaphobe. Taking a savoring slip then setting it back down, she let her mind wandered back the matter at hand. She didn’t find dwelling on event best forgotten being grand motivators or fun, her mind eager for the distraction gotten by the current subject. The thousands dollars used to bribe the prison authorities and pay the prisoner were used in a ‘rehabilitation’ for the prison’s inmates. This included and was not limited to slightly tighter security, better improvements in the living quarters-nothing too pampering-, and even employment in public service to Lost Haven. Those measures were enough to cover her less than noble goals. It would take a few years, the traces never completely erasable in the real world, for anyone remotely interested. They would discover the discrepancies in the books and spending receipts. The first wired paycheck was only for the system design and creation, not how proficient it ran. Those would come later when she had tested out the program more effectively. Putting aside the risks, Jacqueline wasn’t a fool. She hadn’t gotten to where she was without knowing how easily some people could easily try to step on her on several occasions. A week or so after retrieving the system, she had experts and outside influences scan it before installation. Mainly to ensure it was legit in its defensive measures. In addition, no money was going to be wired until after a six month trial as they both agreed on, his account able to be monitored within his accommodations. To put it short and simple, it was the state of the line and exceptional in its performance through the data displayed on the screen was less than phenomenal. Jacqueline became bitter over the fact three shipments, all ten barrels worth, from the PX32 drug trials had gone missing. They were scheduled for disposal, the paperwork crisp and cleared through the proper channels. Through they were labeled as ‘toxic’ building materials, their materials improper for the public health safety. The fact they were stolen hadn’t bothered her much, but the fact they hadn’t heard from the ‘thief’ over the test results was rather irritating. Naturally it was a behind the scenes plot to have the supplies stolen and sold on the black market, a hidden way to see if anything could be salvage from the failed serum and also to secretly promote its potential. If a trial about four generations behind could produce powerful results, imagine what a serum that’s up to date could do. Jacqueline smirked at the thought, then ran through the unlisted and black listed items on her to do schedule. Today’s agenda was going to be booked to its fullest from the looks of it. She reached to take another drink from her mug. The coffee salty and sweet on her tongue, burning it slightly on the way down to warm her inside and out. It was the little things in life that made these unsavory tasks bearable. She skirted her manicured nail over the touch pad over to a fold labeled MFP, then tapped it. Next came the subfolder Building 51. Another brief click and her screen flickered alive, popping up with images most people would classify as gruesome. She dragged up subject A-0001 to engulf the whole screen, converting the file to memory for a brief second before she shifted to compare it to the video she would play in a moment. It certainly didn’t match the description completely. Jacob Riley was a twenty-four year male arrested for arson, attempted murder, and rape charge who had volunteered for a ‘medical’ project in exchanged for a chance at early parole. The pitiful thing was he managed to shorten the sentence only by failing to survive the tests. Jacqueline passively started the video while she reclined backwards, her head tilted to watch the scene play out in a patient and bored way. She, after all, had seen it several times over the course of months since the alien had been discovered. The subject was strapped down and held firmly to a horizontal metal table, much to Mr. Riley’s visual discomfort as he tested the strength against his own with a sudden jerk. It didn’t give. His wrists managed to get only a few inches away when straps stopped them. His wide, panicked blue eyes followed the scientists to a small cart, their figures dressed in bio-hazard suits, and gently removed a rock from a nitrogen cooled container. Carefully holding the misty and grey item in his fingers, the scientist casually and calmly walked to Riley where he pressed the thing against the prisoner’s bare skin. The subjected howled in pain, the staff obvious or numb to the suffering they were causing a fellow human being. They were the best after all. Lacking morals and untainted by the social stigmas pressed upon individuals by the public expectations, these scientist were after answers and nothing would deter them from their goal. Save death itself. Growing bore of the length it would take for the subject to show visual signs, she grasped her mug in hand while occasionally taking sip and began to fast forward. The CEO stopped on hour five. One of the staff, a woman in a bio-suit that had assisted the man who infected Riley, had come in each hour to take blood samples. This time when she drew it, there came a slight surprise with the color causing her to comment on it. That brought the older man into the isolated cell to examine it then quickly usher the female through the door where Jacqueline knew they would examine and record the findings. Meanwhile, Riley’s teeth gritted in pain with each movement. Sweat poured off his figure and his throat rattled off a cough, sounding to be mucus settling in his chest, only nothing came out. His body was limply hanging in the restraints, showing clear signs of sickness. She hit the forward button again up to three hours later, about eight hours into the experiment. The blood had turned a darker black when the woman drew another sample and frowned in concern, her expression barely caught on camera through the plastic cover’s glare. Her concerns for the patient were clear when she mentioned the colorization then proceeded to examine the samples further, letting the male scientist physically check the subject and noted some alarming changes. He immediately slammed on the pedal to bring the table from its horizontal to a vertical position allowing the subject to lay flat. Riley complained and moaned about being too hot causing the head staff member to motion for his assistant, the woman lowering the temperature and bring over ice. In half an hour they had submerged Riley under a pile of ice and lowered the temperature within the quarantined laboratory causing his sweat, coughing, and other symptoms to cease for the moment. For the final hour, hour nine, Riley suffered the most before he finally died. His blood completely black and tar like, his mouth vomiting it like ink over his skin where it stained. The man’s body convulsed and jarred in seizures sending chunks of ice shattering onto the floor while the two scientist struggled to hold him down. Already they rushed to save the man’s failing life, their figures bring in machines to do damage control as additional staff spring into action. His eyes, ears, and mouth started to leak the very same black stuff and it seemed all color had drained from his body. His wide eyes averted to the side and his lips fluttered in soft whispers, appearing to having a conversation with someone not there. At the end of the hour...his heart flat lined. Riley went limp on the table causing the staff to hastily dig him out then use the defibrillator thrice, only to be rewarded with the monitor’s loud, disheartening blare echoing in the room. It was several months earlier with no trace where it could’ve gone. A mystery for another, she admitted, her perfectionist nature gnawing at her the longer she pondered over the answer. Jacqueline’s fingers clicked and closed the video’s window screen. She then slide the mouse over to the power button, her hand raising her coffee and downing the last savory bit, in her wait for the laptop to shut completely down. She set her empty mug aside and back on her desk. When the screen finally went pitch black, she snapped the top down softly while setting the machine in her leather Gucci bag. Unless someone truly knew her, the encryption password was impossible to decode as anyone with common sense knew she wouldn’t have gone with the obvious answers. Jacqueline rolled her chair over to face her desk and started to focus on the public finances, ones which showed her company in a much better light. The first task on the list was the stocks. She had her company invest in manufacture materials used in the repairs for Lost Haven in most recent months. It turned out it was a good investment thanks to the metahumans and more continually causing collateral damage every few weeks. The private businesses, local home and more in the areas of Sherman Square has suffered the most within the year. It was also less confrontal since several mysterious investors seemed to be buying up the properties around Sharmen Square left and right. It bothered her for reasons she didn’t fully understand, her mind concluding the reason was the listed buyers. Some made sense while others didn’t and this fact bothered her mind because was a blunt, public insult to her intelligence. A matter that irritated her to her very core. Instead of driving herself nuts over the matter, Jacqueline chose to carefully move onto the next one. As she examined the founding budget for the Lost Haven Orphanage, her ears caught the door click open. She pulled her eyes from the screen to sight her secretary, Angelica Gibbs, trotted toward the desk in her brisk way. Jacqueline had always liked Ms. Gibbs for her efficiency and business like manner that aligned so well with her own. Both women wore Doir brand with white blouses, black dress jackets and high heels. However the difference came when Jacqueline worn the tight pencil skirt with a side slit and Ms. Gibbs wore loose dress pants. The blond’s heels clicked across the tile flooring as she paused to the desk side, her hand passing over a manilla folder. Firmly holding and pulling it close to her chest, Jacqueline began to skim through the contents in mild interest. In a chirper, energetic voice the secretary spoke. “Your eleven am meeting will happen in an hour and a Dr. Morgan is here to see you. He says it’s rather urgent and being held up by security at the front desk. Something about bizarre virtual readings on Ms. Ruth Garth he believes would benefit the company.” Jacqueline paused in her reading, her face turned up to give Ms. Gibbs a questionable looked. It prompted a reply from the secretary that further explained the necessity to bring the matter up directly to her. “I’ve already sent someone to talk to him but he refuses to speak to anyone other than you. Keeps insisting it has something to do with a virus and the victim dying earlier in the diagnosis.” [color=olive]”Tell him I will be down at one pm sharp, not a moment sooner and escort him to the board room in the east wing.”[/color] “Yes ma’am.” With those words, Ms. Gibbs removed herself to allow Jacqueline to finish up her work and ready herself for the board meeting.