[qzar9999]

*snatches knife back from V* Dammit, dude... :P

Sorry I missed the Wednesday goal. My work schedule has been a little crazy lately. But, uhhhh....it's still Wednesday on the west coast! HA!

Anyway, this bit is all storyline, just FYI. More giantess goodness coming soon, though, and maybe a little something extra too. For now, enjoy the plot thickening...

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Vannacutt sat with his chair turned to the window, looking out over the lake, a few incident reports gathered in a folder on the desk behind him. The call button for the elevator to his office rang. Irritated, he turned to glance at the security camera positioned at its entrance. He was dismayed, if unsurprised, to see Chris Marshak standing at the entrance. He flipped the switch that would send the elevator down and turned back to the lake as he awaited Marshak's arrival. He heard the doors slide open, but no footsteps crossing his office. He swiveled in his chair to see Marshak standing silently before his desk, what looked like another incident report in his hand. Despite his intimidating bulk, Marshak had an almost uncanny ability to move silently; even Vannacutt himself found it unnerving.

“Good evening, Mr. Marshak,” he said, frowning at the papers in the security chief's hand. “I see you have another report for me.”

“Yes, sir,” the tall black man said, his deep voice maintaining a carefully professional tone. “A dance club on the outskirts of town. Three people were contaminated. I'm afraid it's spreading.” He slid the papers across Vannacutt's desk.

The older man scanned the pages briefly, his eyes flicking back and forth, rapidly taking in pertinent details. Shortly, his gaze tracked across the other papers on his desk before returning to his head of security. “So that makes seven incidents?”

“That we know of,” Marshak replied. “and at least thirty people exposed. Assuming there aren't any more from earlier in the week that just weren't reported, before the effects were so...pronounced.”

Vannacutt sighed heavily. “And I understand you've had to dispatch your Biological Containment Units?”

“To three of the incidents now, sir,” Marshak replied, his expression grim. “We sent a team to...assist the paramedics with the women in the park, then we were first on the scene at the Hooters restaurant, and now the club.”

“Well, that's good. At least we've been able to respond.” Vannacutt frowned at the reports, then locked eyes with Marshak. “Tell me something. If this continues to get worse, how long will your BCU teams be able to keep up?”

The big man coughed uncomfortably and looked away from his employer. “Well, sir, I'm afraid if this situation continues to deteriorate, we're not going to be able to maintain control of it for much longer.” He returned his eyes to the CEO's face. “I'll do everything I can, but I only have so many personnel. There's no way we could have anticipated a problem on this...uh...scale.”

“I understand, Mr. Marshak. In fairness, I didn't anticipate it either.” Vannacutt turned away, thinking. “Very well. I'm going to upgrade this situation. We're switching to the Abscido Protocols.”

Marshak looked surprised. “The Abscido Protocols, sir?”

The man behind the desk glared at him. “Was I unclear, Christopher?”

Marshak twitched. “No, sir.”

“Good. You have your orders. Now, if you'll kindly get to work, I have a few calls to make.”

“Yes, sir.” The security chief turned and silently strode to the elevator as Vannacutt picked up his phone.

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