“Whatever,” Dmitry said with a wave of dismissal. “Viktor wants you back at the house on the double.”
“Wait a second,” Alexei said, rolling his eyes. “He insisted on immediately knowing the current prion concentration in the fermenter a few hours ago. I’m in the middle of finding it out.”
“It has to wait,” Dmitry said. “Viktor wants you up at the house now! He made that perfectly clear, believe me. JD surprised us by showing up unexpectedly, pounding on the door, and making demands. Since you are the one who has dealt with him the most from day one, Viktor wants you to come handle him.”
“What the hell is JD here for?” Alexei questioned. The news definitely took him aback. He immediately but carefully snapped off his gloves, making certain they stayed inside out. He started to undo his gown, thinking that JD showing up was certainly out of the ordinary and not welcome, especially so close to their departure.
“Something about his taking on the reins of the Diehard Patriots,” Dmitry said. “But Viktor managed to distract him by insisting he have a beer first.”
“All right, let’s go,” Alexei said after he’d responsibly put aside the soiled gloves and gown, which they buried in a deep pit they’d created behind the barn. He planned on dealing later with the plastic face shield using concentrated sodium hydroxide, which was one of the very few compounds capable of denaturing prion protein.
As they hurried up the path to the house, Alexei prodded Dmitry further about what JD had said. What he learned was that JD wanted to set up a definite schedule for upcoming maneuvers and lectures, and he wanted to talk about money.
“Jesus Christ!” Alexei complained. “What’s come over him? JD’s always been so reliably lackadaisical. If we’re forced into doing any more of the maneuver nonsense, it’s obviously all going to fall to you and me.”
“Don’t I know it!” Dmitry answered.
Entering the house, Alexei and Dmitry found JD sitting at the expansive kitchen island nursing a longneck Bud Light with both Viktor and Nikolai. Viktor had JD carrying on about his parents’ hardware store, which had been started by JD’s maternal grandfather. It was where he worked when he worked. The association had been definitely beneficial to the Russians, as Dmitry had used JD innumerable times to order non-scientific tools when puttingtogether their makeshift microbiology lab, including the fermenter itself.
“Hey, JD! What’s up?” Alexei voiced, making a point of using the syntax he’d learned from dealing with him and Ethan. He went into the refrigerator and grabbed two Bud Lights, one for himself and one for Dmitry. After handing off Dmitry’s, he took a barstool across from where JD was sitting. From Dmitry’s appearance alone, Alexei sensed a distinct difference in the man’s mindset. Gone was the normal impression that he’d just taken a hit of weed, as he was obviously surprisingly alert. Even his posture was more erect.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the last couple of hours,” JD was saying as Alexei and Dmitry popped the tops off their beers and made themselves comfortable.
“What about?” Alexei questioned, taking a slug of his beer. He glanced briefly at Viktor, who nodded imperceptibly, giving him the authority to take over the conversation.
“About Diehard Patriots,” JD said. “I met up with Janet Huber. Actually, she made a point of finding me. Did you ever meet Janet?”
“I don’t believe I did,” Alexei responded.
“She was Ethan’s girlfriend,” JD said. “They were living together out near where I live at the garage. She wanted to provide me the papers and whatnot Ethan kept about the Diehard Patriots. She said she’d given all the other stuff to his mother and father, like his clothes and a couple of guns. Looking through everything, I realized somebody’s got to take over where he left off. You know what I’m saying?”
“Of course,” Alexei said. He glanced at the others, particularly Viktor, but Viktor’s indifferent expression didn’t change. “Will you be our major contact from now on?”
“I guess you could say that,” JD said with a nod. “I mean, I talkedwith Nate Morrison, the other founder, but he said he’d gotten a new job and didn’t have the time or whatever. So, I guess I’m it.”
“Congratulations,” Alexei said, trying to sound enthused.
“Luckily my name was already on the bank account,” JD said, “so that’s not going to be a problem. But funds are getting low, and I don’t think we can hit up the members with more dues, especially since we’ve been requiring them to buy their own ammo for our maneuvers.”
“If they are buying their own ammunition, why do you need more funds?” Alexei asked, trying to be understanding.
“The biggest problem is this property, the Bennet Estate,” JD said. “Paying the rent, which is due, is going to break the bank. I didn’t even know we Diehard Patriots were paying for it. Ethan kept secrets from Nate and me and the rest of the gang.”
“That’s not a problem,” Viktor said, suddenly speaking up in his deep, commanding voice. “We’ll be happy to pay the rent, provided we pay you in cash and not the landlord. We’d even be more than happy to pay a bit extra for your help in handling it, which we appreciate. We’d much prefer not having to deal directly with the managing company.”
“Okay, terrific! That will be great,” JD said with a broad smile of relief. “Problem solved!” He then lifted his Bud Light bottle in a toast before taking a healthy swig. After he swallowed, he looked at the label and asked: “How come we’re drinking Bud Light? What’s up with your homemade brew? I was hoping to give it a try, knowing what I know about what that fermenter cost.”
“Our beer has been exquisite,” Viktor said without a moment’s hesitation. “And we thank you for your help in getting the main piece of equipment. It’s been so delicious that we go through a batch in a matter of days. At the moment, we’re sorry to say, we’reout, but we have another batch brewing as we speak. When you arrived, Alexei, our brewmaster, was out in the barn specifically attending to it. Isn’t that right, Alexei?”
“That’s right,” Alexei said. He glared across the island at Viktor, feeling a pang of irritation at the man especially because he was the one responsible for them not having left Essex Falls on Monday when they planned.
“Too bad,” JD voiced. “I would have liked to try it. Spending more than six thousand dollars on a fermenter blows my mind, but to each his own. Anyway, let’s talk about the truck. I didn’t know this but Brent Phillips, the guy who owns it, had been giving Ethan serious grief for several days about wanting it back. Now that I am handling the Diehard affairs, how do you propose we deal with this problem?”
All eyes went to Viktor, who cleared his throat and said: “Would some cash change Mr. Phillips’s mind about wanting it back? Obviously we need transportation.”
“I imagine so,” JD said with a shrug. “I’m willing to suggest it. How much should I say you are offering?”
“Let’s let him decide, provided it’s reasonable,” Viktor said.
