Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER)

sudden streak of red flushed the doctor’s face. Williams said. “We’re not having this conversation.” He cleared his throat, clearly agitated.
    Boricio realized he wasn’t just crossing the line; he was dragging his ass like a dog on carpet and smearing a trail of shit along the way.
    William’s said, “This is borderline treason, Boricio. I have to ask you to leave now, and to never bring this up again. I hope things change soon, and that we can figure out what’s happening with Luca, and get Rose the help she needs. But in the meantime, I’m growing increasingly uncomfortable with this topic. You promised no more than five minutes, and we’re now into our twentieth.”
    Boricio’s second best card hadn’t worked, so he played one better — and his last.
    “I know about The Goliath Project,” he said. “And I know how badly you’d love for Will to sign off on it.” Boricio leaned across the desk. “But he won’t, will he, Doc? Will’s just not much of a team player these days, is he?”
    The doctor said nothing.
    Boricio leaned back in his seat and continued, “Well, it’s a good thing I am. I know how I can get Will to John Hancock all over the Goliath Project, and I’m confident enough to give you a guarantee that I’ll make it happen. What do you say, Doc?”
    Williams shook his head, his eyes as wide as his face was red. Boricio couldn’t tell if he was surprised or angry that Boricio knew about Goliath. Or perhaps he picked up on the subtext — if Williams didn’t help him, he’d make it damned difficult to get Goliath passed through.
    “I’m saying the same thing I’ve been saying all along, Boricio — I’d love to help you, but I can’t. Not even with a promise of getting me a vial, or a green light on Goliath. Will has his reasons for refusing your requests, and even if I don’t agree with all of his reasons, it’s my job and responsibility to listen.”
    “But it’s not!” Boricio could feel the growl growing inside his voice. “That’s only true if Will genuinely knows better. But he doesn’t. Not this time. He’s not a scientist, right? At least not like you. ” Boricio waited for the flicker of agreement he knew was inside Williams to flash across his face. “And because Will isn’t a scientist, he is impeding the project’s progress by withholding the vials from you and your team, right?”
    Williams cleared his throat and repeated the party line. “He has his reasons.”
    “What if you could have absolute, unhindered access to the vials?”
    Williams shook his head. “No one has that kind of access.”
    Boricio pulled one final ace from the inside of his coat, then gently set the vial on the doctor’s desk, the glass cylinder of bright blue liquid packed in clear plastic to protect it.
    Williams stared at the vial, his eyes nearly as wide as his open mouth.
    His hand dropped to the desk, hovering an inch above the vial before he quickly snatched back his fingers as if they were centimeters from the fangs of a snake.
    Williams stroked his chin, then scratched his head and tugged at his ears, wrestling with something inside him for a long while before finally turning to Boricio and saying, “How … how did you get that?”
    Boricio laughed, though the laugh was closer to a cackle.
    “There are two sorts of secrets, Doc — the kind you want to keep inside because they mean a helluva lot more if they’re never so much as whispered, and the other sort where you wouldn’t dare utter a whisper, even if you wanted to. This one,” he nodded toward the vial, “is both.”
    Williams turned his back to the vial, then got up from his desk and began to pace as if his chair had grown too hot to sit in.
    Boricio said, “Take it or leave it, Doc. The choice is yours.”
    Williams stared at Boricio without saying a word, almost like he was practicing the same sort of in and out, in and out slow breathing Boricio had begun to master over the past few weeks. He finally turned back to his desk and ran his fingers over the vial, his fingers grazing the length of the plastic casing from top to bottom.
    “We can’t do this,” he shook his head and whispered. “ Can we? ”
    Boricio had him.
    “We can, Doc. That’s why I’m here.”

    **

    Two days later…

    Boricio and Dr. Williams had been in Rose’s room for nearly 15 minutes. Warm anticipation was burning up and down Boricio’s back as he made small circles on the linoleum behind the doctor. He’d