Page 8 of Samson

“While the animal is still alive, we make every effort to ensure that part of the journey is as comfortable for them as possible.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“By creating a calm environment, we keep their stress levels to a minimum.”

“Is that what these corrals do?”

“Yes. We limit their range of sight so as not to put additional strain on them. They’re very relaxed when it comes time to euthanize them.”

Samson nodded, wondering if Andy had any idea what was going on in other parts of the warehouse. Judging by his build and demeanor, it was clear he wasn’t one of Cramer’s men, but that didn’t mean he didn’t play a part.

He’d be one of the lucky ones today. Samson would take him out of the picture before the big confrontation. Otherwise, he could end up with broken bones or worse.

“Most of the process is straightforward. We kill the animal and butcher it. Then we use nearly every part of the carcass. We work hard to limit waste.”

“What about the bones?”

“The bones that we don’t process as part of the meat—spare ribs, for example—get utilized in various ways. They could be used for dog food or ground up and added to animal feed. Fertilizers and gelatin production is another popular use. Some bones we ship overseas, and they get made into things like buttons.”

That wasn’t all they were doing with the bones. “Are any of those areas lucrative?”

“Anytime a part of the animal is not wasted, it’s lucrative.”

“True.”

They passed through an area with large vats, and Samson knew they were getting close.

“Here is where we render the fats and other byproducts of the animals,” Andy said.

“Is that what that smell is?”

“Yes, it can get quite pungent in here. But don’t worry, we’re almost to the end of our journey. If you’ll follow me through here, I’ll show you the loading docks where you can get some fresh air.”

Samson followed him into an empty corridor and past a door marked “restricted.”

“You mentioned about the bones being ground up for feed. Does that happen on site? I don’t remember seeing that anywhere.”

“We do grind them here, but it’s in another section of the building. Unfortunately, it’s not part of the tour as it’s in a restricted area of the—” It was all Andy got out before Samson stuck him with a needle.

“Sorry, buddy,” he said as he lowered Andy to the floor. “It’s better if you sleep through this next part.”

He unclipped the keycard from Andy’s coat, then dragged him to a closet where he’d sleep off the drug for the next hour or so.

Back at the restricted door, Samson pressed the card against the panel and entered.

He’d already seen the floor plan of the building and knew what waited for him at the end of the hall.

When he reached the double doors, he stripped off his cleanroom suit and tossed the hardhat before pulling his gun.

He peered through a tiny window in the door and could see various animal bones traveling along a conveyor belt. Maybe some were shipped overseas or made into dog food, but the rest would be cleaned and ground down and added to illegal drugs to bulk them out before being packaged and sent out onto the street.

It was a pretty slick operation. When his contact at the DEA first brought him the case, he’d been intrigued. And as he’d investigated further, and discovered how big an operation it was, he’d been impressed. But that wasn’t why he’d been given the job.

The DEA was having trouble making any headway; for Samson, this was a walk in the park. He always got answers, and the bigger the problem he faced, the better. It was what had given him his reputation and why the government gave him the freedom he enjoyed. One man against so many, and he never lost.

“At least you’re not wasting any part of the animal,” he murmured as he pushed the door open and entered the room. His voice was drowned out by the whir of machinery.

Two men stood midway across the room, facing away from him while they worked at a long table.

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