The Human Bullet. Joaquin De Torres

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СКАЧАТЬ was through Pentagon ties that Marmilic met Dr. Dale Turnbull, director of the notorious secret vigilante society PIPER’S, Inc. Turnbull, a huge fan of his work, commissioned Marmilic to design the shadow society’s main training and organizational campus at a hidden forest location in Northern California.

      When the work was completed, Turnbull paid Marmilic three times the price the architect had originally charged. This did two things: First, it allowed the architect to purchase TRI-CORE, a special synthetics and textile manufacturing firm so that he could design and patent his own materials for his experiments; and second, foster a strong personal relationship with PIPER’S, Inc. This kept Marmilic in Turnbull’s service for any future tasking or favor, as well as under the organization’s coveted protection.

      Two years later, Marmilic merged Novo-Tech and TRI-CORE, and moved both firms to a newly-constructed and beautiful San Leandro industrial park. Much like the GOOGLE, APPLE or Microsoft campuses, his was equipped with technical warehouses, design and fabrication facilities, R&D labs, testing rooms, parts and materials storage rooms, finishing rooms, and showrooms – all, within first-class office buildings.

      It was here that Marmilic’s dream began, a small private and gated ‘city’ where his visions could be realized. It was here where MIRA-CAL Technologies was born.

      * * * * *

      Marko was looking over the latest testing results on his massive flat screen monitors in his office. A fifth simulated successful run of the Sonic One had just been completed by Goran Bakarčić, using adjustments made by Irena Pezelj. With much of the pressure finally lifting off his shoulders, Marko was once again able to concentrate on the goal. His only glaring problem was time; not so much about the time the vehicle would be ready, but for the man who would be riding it.

      A soft therapeutic but electronic chime sounded behind him, the doorbell.

      “Come in,” he called back. The glass doors automatically slid open with a whisper of air. Entering the room was a familiar member of his team. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was; the scent of Chloé Love gave it away immediately.

      “Good morning, Martina!” he greeted with a warm smile.

      MIRA-CAL’s Director of Operations, Martina Ćorić, came in looking absolutely stunning. He couldn’t help but notice the body-hugging, long-sleeved, black Versace half-dress with silver buttons that complimented her Dolce and Gabbana red lipstick. Martina was the Gisele Bundchen of MIRA-CAL, but much better, a supermodel with a Ph.D.

      She looked at Marko impatiently like someone who couldn’t wait to deliver some important news.

      “All those documents for me so early in the morning?” he asked as the attractive young woman approached and took a seat on one of the leather couches next to the table.

      Martina Ćorić, 30, was a former fashion model before earning her business law degree at the Zagreb Academy of Law. Half-Croatian and half-Bosnian from Herzegovina, she represented the perfect confluence of beauty and intelligence. As MIRA-CAL’s D.O.O., she was an astute businesswoman and administrator.

      She set Marko’s schedule and oversaw every aspect of the corporation’s movements, creations and interests. She was his ‘right-hand-man’ behind the scenes and on the front lines of the business. Although he was the creative genius of the organization, Martina was the fusion chemical that made everything around him stick and function like a well-oiled machine.

      “Marko, he’s awake!” Martina’s large eyes had a sparkling glint to them as she smiled. Marko looked at her not really understanding what she had just said. “Chris Cordell, the bike racer, he’s come out of his coma.” Marko’s eyes immediately lit up in recognition.

      “When?”

      “My nurse, Rachel, at Kaiser informed me. He’s been awake for two days, but became fully lucid just yesterday, the third day.” Martina’s smile gave off an optimistic glow. Marko nodded and closed his eyes in relief.

      “And on the third day He rose again,” he whispered reverently. He turned to her with his own smile. “Has Lana kept up with her classes?” Martina nodded with a confident grin.

      “Every day, no miss, since the very first day. Last night was her last time.” Marko was very satisfied with the answer.

      “Has his sister been contacted?”

      “No, not yet. I will contact her today.”

      “Tell her everything she needs to know before we visit him.”

      “I will, Marko. I’ve been keeping tabs on her. She’s going through a rough patch right now since his money dried up. He was supporting her.”

      “How much?”

      “Everything,” she replied. “Rent, college, spending money, transportation. She’s had to work part-time at the mall. It’s so sad, she’s all the family he’s got since their parents died. It’s a tragic story.” Martina dropped her eyes considering what she knew of the Cordell family.

      “When you say ‘everything’, you mean to say all his endorsements and savings?”

      “Yes. Cordell’s lifestyle mirrored that of an international playboy. He was an extreme partier and big-time spender. Mansion, eight cars, motorcycles, private jet –”

      “All of that gone?” Marko asked incredulously. “In two years?”

      “Three years ago, he put his finances in a personal trust contract with his agent, Nick Fender, basically a financial and medical Power of Attorney. Cordell was a big kid. Like all youths who have money and power, he thought he was going to live forever. Between his training, promos and circuit races, he didn’t want to deal with his personal accounting.”

      “Oh boy, I know where this is going,” Marko huffed.

      “Taxes, corporate sponsors, contracts, everything financial – Fender had full authorization to use Cordell’s money to pay his debts, invest in companies, sign endorsement contracts, materials upgrades, you name it. Fender took care of everything behind the scenes while Cordell lived the fast life.”

      Marko winced and shook his head.

      “Behind the scenes normally means ‘under the table.’ No one should ever sign over their fortune at such a young age,” he said.

      “As you would expect, sources say that after the crash, Fender used Cordell’s fortune to pay Kaiser for all the surgeries, treatments, meds and his hospital room. Once he knew Cordell’s condition, he paid for the room for two years in advance.”

      “Well, that’s good timing!” Marko said loudly, disliking the story and Nick Fender with every statement.

      “He did leave money for Cordell’s sister, but only enough for two years of her university tuition and a small stipend for necessities every month. Not enough for Bay Area life. She’s had to take a bus and then BART to school.”

      “Don’t tell me,” interrupted Marko, “he had the rights to all Cordell’s property, too.” Martina nodded and he winced again.

      “Fender sold the mansion, the cars, the motorcycles, and the plane.”

      “And СКАЧАТЬ