He shrugs. “Don’t be. It’s the only way I know to fight.”
He eats the rest of his pizza in silence and I make myself eat some of my salad in an effort to ease his suspicions. After we finish our meal, Justin drives me to SolomiChem’s parking lot. Only a couple of vehicles remain in the lot. When he gets out of the car, my breathing quickens. I was hoping he’d simply drop me off.
“I’ll follow you home,” he offers.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll finish up some work before I head home.”
He regards me for a moment in silence. “What are you up to?”
“Up to?” I echo, manufacturing a puzzled expression, my heart racing.
“You’re planning something. Something monumentally stupid and possibly dangerous, would be my guess. It’s written all over you.”
I look away from the questions in his eyes. Anger is coming off him in waves. I can’t lie and my improvising needs work so I keep quiet, realizing at the same time Justin is astute enough to read the truth in my silence.
“Talk,” he orders.
“They put up a sacrifice order for the beagles in the chemo study. They’re going to be killed tomorrow.”
Comprehension dawns on his face. “And you’re going in tonight to rescue them.”
“Yes. Well, actually, only one.”
“Turbo.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “What about the others?”
“I can’t take them.”
“Why not?”
“There are too many of them and half of them are so sick they can’t walk,” I cry. “The sacrifice order only went up today. There was no time to prepare.”
“Exactly! You’ve had no time to prepare and you’ll screw up the whole operation.”
“I won’t.”
He takes a deep breath and tries for a patient tone. “If you liberate Turbo, your work will be for nothing. The necropsy video you took will be lost in all the noise SolomiChem will stir up over the theft of their property.”
“I can’t let Turbo die,” I whisper.
A light rain starts to fall. Standing in the empty parking lot, neither of us moves to take shelter. We stare at one another in a silent impasse.
Finally, Justin says, “I get that you’re attached to him, but you can’t go through with your plan.”
“You don’t understand, I have to.”
He briefly closes his eyes. “I can’t allow you to rescue him or any of them.”
At his words, I back away, a furious despair building up inside my chest.
Justin shakes his head. “Don’t do this.”
Raindrops cling to the lenses of my glasses. With trembling hands, I take them off, tucking them into my pocket. “Justin, please, let me go to Turbo.”
“No.”
“We can make a difference in the life of one dog. We can save him.”
“Yeah, you can save one,” he says harshly, “but what about the hundreds of others who will die after Turbo? This was never a rescue mission. This operation was about exposure and changing the way a company does business. You knew that,” he reminds me forcefully. “From the start, you knew that.”
