With each passing day, Hunter learned more about his job at The Order. As a Researcher, he was tasked with looking up information on many varied cases. Biographies, histories, technical schematics, and delivering them to various other departments. But for at least two hours every day, he would meet with Kai and Calhoun to give them more information about his life before joining the order - and in particular, his history with Alex and the places they used to spend time together.

“We would hang out at least three times a week at Electric Six,” Hunter said at their most recent meeting, referencing the club where the sting had been set up. “That’s probably why he chose it as a meetup point, come to think of it. He’d know every exit, every nuance of that building before he’d consider something like that.”

Kai turned on a TV screen on Calhoun’s wall. “When we finally confirmed that dongle plugged into Alex’s PC was necessary to prevent his encrypted USB drive from self-destructing, we confirmed that the data he was selling was a list of people who had worked at InnerCore.” He used a remote control to scan through a series of slides that included employee photo identification and contact information for each person.

“Do you see any patterns in this, Hunter?”

Hunter squinted as he watched each slide pass by. “Not really,” he said. “Many of them are blond-haired and blue-eyed.” He paused. “Wait, you don’t think this is some sort of Nazism, Aryan race bullshit, do you?”

“Not for a second,” Calhoun said flatly. Hunter felt a twinge of embarrassment for even suggesting it.

Kai continued flipping through slides.

“Here’s something else,” Kai said.

“Employee status, resigned,” Hunter read, following Kai’s finger across the screen. “Separation date, December 18th… ‘DRS status, selected?’ What does that mean?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Calhoun said. 

“At least one pattern here is that everyone listed in this file was either fired or resigned,” Kai said. He flicked through a few more slides to prove his point. “No retirees. None of the executives.”

“We obtained employee files for those who led the company or who retired after 15-plus years of service,” Calhoun said. “None of them have a DRS status at all.”

“Was there anything that seemed weird about the onboarding process when you and Alex got hired?” Kai rubbed his chin as he asked.

“Let’s see,” Hunter thought. “We had the usual tax forms to fill out, we sat through about a whole day’s worth of company policy and anti-sexual harassment videos, like everywhere else I’ve ever worked… Wait. The vaccinations…”

Calhoun nodded. “It’s a biotech firm. InnerCore may have made some vaccinations compulsory as a condition of employment.”

Kai turned back to the screen and flipped through some slides. “Quite a few of these termination dates were just two days after their start date,” he noted. “Did you and Alex get the vaccinations?”

Hunter nodded. “They were given on our second day,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “They had told us they were working with potentially dangerous viruses and these were a layer of protection should there be a breakout of some sort.”

Calhoun rubbed the bald spot on his head. “And they didn’t say what, specifically.”

“No.”

“I have a copy of the spreadsheet here,” Calhoun said. “Many of these who were dismissed after only two days have a DRS status of “ineligible” … and all of them cite a termination reason of “noncompliance with DRS program.”

Kai started flipping through slides again. He began reading the names absently to himself. “Gilda Robinson… Trace Ruiz… Anthony Garrick…”

“I know that name,” Hunter said.

“You worked with him, maybe?”

“No, no… it was the news…” Hunter pulled up his phone and did some frenzied tapping. “Here. Channel 5 News: ‘Arlington Man Missing, Police Baffled.’

“That other one you pulled up, Gilda Robinson…” Calhoun tapped on his computer keyboard. “Ward 6 in Boise forwarded us a BOLO from the local sheriff’s department with that name.”

“BOLO?” Hunter asked.

“Be on the Lookout,” Kai explained.

“Here it is,” Calhoun said, reading an email. “Gilda Louise Robinson, age 29. Missing, presumed endangered. May be in the Dallas-Fort Worth metro area.”

“What’s the DRS thing on her?” Hunter motioned for Kai to move the slide back.

“DRS status… engaged,” Kai said. He moved the remote control back to Garrick. “Anthony’s is marked ‘engaged’ too.”

“Alright, so let’s play ‘What Do We Know,” Calhoun said. “We know we have a list of 1,500 people who worked at InnerCore and who have since left the company.”

“We know that a common thread among those that have left the company is that they accepted a vaccination as a condition of employment.” Kai was making mental notes as he scanned the list of photos again.

“And we know that two of the people on this list have actually gone missing,” Hunter said. “And their DRS status is ‘Engaged,’ whatever that means.”

“And we know that there are three statuses,” Calhoun said, reviewing his own notes. “Eligible, Ineligible, and Engaged.’”

“Four,” corrected Kai with a lump in his throat.

“Four?” Calhoun and Hunter said in unison.

“Yeah, just found a fourth. ‘Selected,’” Kai said.

“Who is marked as ‘Selected?’ asked Calhoun.

“Only two people, according to this list.” Kai turned to them and clicked a button on the remote. Two employee ID’s popped up, side-by-side.

“Alex Cavas… and Hunter Reeves.”