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“Those trades were incredible, Mr. Churchill. Didn’t miss a one.”

“My net, Fanning. How much?”

The broker said, “Seven mil and some change.”

Andrew Churchill leaned back in his office chair and stared at the ceiling. Heat ran through his thin body. He loosened his tie. All this had resulted from only one of West’s Memnon-induced jumps. What about the next and the next? Churchill had been hanging on by his fingernails, but suddenly, salvation dropped into his arms. More than salvation. He didn’t want to think of what could result, lest he jinx the outcome.

“Mr. Churchill? Hello? You still there?”

“Yeah, Fanning, I’m still here. I’m just enjoying the moment.”

“What should I do with the proceeds?”

“Just park it. I’ll have more orders soon.” Churchill hung up his phone and thought he might explode with joy. Then he glanced at his watch. Lunch hour over, all the employees would be back in the building. Oh, hell, he thought as he grabbed his suit jacket off his coat rack and headed to the parking lot. He would make the short drive to that hot little minx’s house and pound her the rest of the afternoon. He deserved to celebrate.

“It’s working, but he doesn’t have much control.” Dolci sipped at his coffee and leaned back on the Berber sofa in Andrew Churchill’s office.

“How about increasing the dose?” Churchill mused.

“That’s not the problem. No matter how much we push into his bloodstream, only a small portion reaches his brain. The blood/brain barrier is restricting absorption.”

“So? Inject directly into his brain. Any problem with that?”

“We could never get FDA permission for that.”

“To hell with FDA permission. It’s our asses if we fail. Goose the dose with neurotransmitters and administer a brain drip.”

“A brain drip is risky.”

“How so?”

“We don’t have any data on where to start the dose. Start too high, we could fry him.”

“So, drop way down and build up slowly. Depending on what West brings back, you’ll have some idea how you’re progressing.”

Dolci shook his head and looked down. “Andrew, Andrew, where are we going?”

“Trust me, Cliff, I have a plan. We’ll make West our ally. None of what has happened will matter.”

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