The Vial

January 5, 2012
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The window shattered like a burst of pure energy; there was only enough time to cover my own head before the shards covered the room and everything in it. I looked around my crowded office, the cluttered papers strewn across the floor, the old and outdated computer, now all covered in a layer of glass like. A man in a dark hood reached through the remains of the window and pulled me through onto the tenth floor balcony.
“You’re coming with me.” He rasped, emphasizing on each syllable as if he was afraid I couldn’t understand, “Don’t say a word or you’re dead.”

With one swift motion he pushed me out in front of him and leapt off the balcony and onto the hovering helicopter just a few feet away. As I fell down upon the platform of the helicopter, I skid across the floor and came to rest on the opposite wall. I reached for the tiny vile that I kept in my shirt pocket to make sure it was safe, and I pushed it closer to my chest to save it from any harm.
I wanted to reply to the threat, but I must have been in shock because no words would come out. I moved my lips but all that escaped were gasps and squeaks.

"Why me?" I wanted to ask, "What have I done to you?" But of course I couldn't, I was struck dumb by the craziness of the situation. One minute I'm preparing to meet with my boss, Mr. Jenson, over the telephone, and the next I hear a helicopter whirring above my head. I remember hearing the pulsing beats of the flying machine, creeping over to the window of my office to get a better view. I never would have suspected I was being targeted.
All of a sudden, a gun was being held to my head, and the brute of a man was talking to me again.
"Where is it?" He demanded. "Hand it over or I'll shoot!" He yelled, sounding crazed.
"What are you looking for?" Finally, I found my voice.
"The drug. The one you were testing. I need it now. Tell me where it is!" The drug. He wanted the drug. I pictured the purple liquid currently concealed snugly in its own container beneath my shirt. The man pressed the gun up into the curve of my neck, and I could feel his anxiousness spreading trough the cabin like a disease.
"How do you know about the drug?" I muttered with reluctance.
"Andrews," he replied with a smile, "I heard you trusted him more than anyone. Told him everything accept for the formula."
"You're lying.”
He would never betray me like that. I've been confiding in Andrews for the past ten years and never once has he shown any disloyalty to me, or the company for that matter. The snitch must have been someone else, this must be a setup.
"Just give me the drug and I'll let you go alive. I won't need you afterwards anyway.”
The cabin was so cramped it only had enough room to fit two chairs, which were both dangerously close to the door through which we just entered.
"Not without a compromise." I told him, "I'm not handing over my work of ten years over in just an instant. I need something in return."
I franticly searched the cabin for anything to use, to help me escape. There was no way that a hooded figure could take this vile away from me. I wouldn't give up this drug for all the money in the world and I'd rather die than let it fall into the wrong hands. I shuddered to think that, but the truth was creeping up on me; if I didn't find a way out the drug may never fulfill its purpose.
"No compromises!" he exclaimed, "I have come too far to get this! Too far! Hand it over, this is your last warning!"
That's when I saw it; I saw the door to the cockpit opened ever so slightly. Is this possible? Could I kill two birds with one stone? Could I deliver the medication at the same time I save it from entering the drug trade? My move would be now or never, and I decided to go for it.
I twisted my head away from the gun and used all of my force to slam my body against his. As it turns out, having a black belt in Martial Arts is good for something. I swiped out the man’s feet from under him and stole the gun as he fell to his side. With possession I was in control, so I pointed it at him and repeated his same command:
“Don’t say a word or you’re dead.”
I opened the cockpit door and took control of the pilot in a similar fashion; no one can overpower a man with a gun.
“Take me to 75th street.” I told him. I feel bad for this man; it doesn’t seem as if he knew what he was getting himself into when he boarded this helicopter. We started moving south while I walked back into the cabin.
The man was still on his side when I walked in. I pointed the gun to him and said,
“Who are you, and how did you know about the drug?” He pulled off his mask and…

It was Mr. Jenson. My boss.

“Albert, I can explain.” He said, but that was a lie. Everything was a lie. Everything was a lie except for the vile of medication in my pocket at that very moment. What was this drug really to help the greater good, or was it really just for him? He must have only wanted it made to help himself financially. To sell it to one of the bigger pharmaceutical companies for billions of dollars, and he knew I would never allow that. Mr. Jenson didn’t need to explain; I knew the whole plan already. After only a moment’s hesitation, I placed my foot on his chest and pushed him through the door. I watched him fall into the night street, and I never saw him land because he was engulfed in the blackness. I never gave him a chance to explain himself, but I didn’t need him to. I was smarter than Mr. Jenson is every way and he was easier to read than a book.

“Sir, we are arriving.” Spoke the pilot hesitantly, “I will hover here for you. There are parachutes in the back.”

“Thank you.” I told him with a smile, but the pilot still looked as if he would be sick. I fastened a parachute onto my back, and leapt out into the cool midnight air. I felt the air whipping back my hair like I was stuck in a windstorm. It was foggy, but when I landed on the streets I knew I was where I needed to be. I looked around and found the address I was looking for: apartment #25A. Slowly I walked up to the stoop and up the stairs. I knocked on the door, and after a few minutes of waiting, a small boy answered the door.

“Daddy!” he cried out, and hugged my leg.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here Peter,” I said, looking down, “But this is for you.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the vile, admiring its silent beauty. Slowly I handed the bottle to Peter.

“Will this make me better daddy?” he asked, his little face red with excitement, “Will it make the cancer go away?”

“Yes it will Peter, you’re not going to have to worry about that anymore.” I picked up my son and walked into the home.
I laid Peter down in his bed, and left the vile on my wife’s bedside table with the note: “This is what we have been waiting for, the drug I told you about. We finished up the testing and it’s effective. You’re not going to have to worry about our darling anymore.”

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