TORN POSTERS OF THE RECENT presidential election still waved all over the street walls. Life went back to business after the talks died off of how the older Rosewood had won the preordination, after the younger Senator Cory from Pennsylvania withdrew from the election race for an immorally and disgraceful scandal — and, he then killed himself at his home days later.

In the New York City neighbourhood street, a portly old man in his sixties walked with a walking stick in one hand and a duffel bag in the other, that joined a tube to a full gas-face mask that he wore — Dr Boris Yankoff, a DNA stem-cell bioengineering scientist was inhaling from a mini EMS Oxygen kit.

He was accompanied by his young female assistant, his former student — Sonia Petrof — who was pleading to him...

"I think you should not mail it, Professor..."

This choler the old man who was walking ahead of her...

"Then what do you expect me to do, Sonia? What Mladic has done is totally detrimental, he damn used me — he took my thirty years of research and my discoveries, and the bastard perverted it by making a weapon of mass destruction!"

"It is not proven yet. We can still run away back, and go, hide in Russia."

She was terrified and only wanted a rout out...

But Dr Yankoff felt that those purview words were coming from an ignorant child, and not from a fellow research scientist because she was rebuffing to see the repercussion damages from the wronging of his life's works...

The DNA research, which he had won a Nobel Prize for — had currently been incorporated by a certain flagitious pharmaceutical industrialist in Moscow — together with the Slovakian's scientific influenza virus discovery, the Russian business-magnet, Mladic managed to create a super virus...

"Remember this Sonia — that superfluous designed plague from now on is going to kill millions of innocent lives on this planet!"

Sonia kept repeating that the effectual was not substantiated — but, the old man's rancour countered her again...

"What more proof do you want when I know what that miscreant Mladic is up to next — that greedy bastard wants to misuse science to play God, by killing the targeted male gender population, genetically here in North America and also in Western Europe...

"... so that, he and his organization can conspicuously control the world with his pharmaceutical business with a vaccine cure. He must be stopped at all cause! And...

"...and, that truth too, must be told out to the public, Sonia!"

They both walked in front of an electronic store with television sets on display. Though Sonia cringed, she still persisted...

"But what about the implication, Professor — we can all go to jail if you dispatch that video to the TV station."

Yankoff knew she was fearful of the dilemma, but he had to be stanched and responsible — to both her ascetic-self and to the lifelong years of his research. He wished it would be better if the sooner Sonia could grasp about the whole male genocide cataclysm, that was to occur soon in this part of the world — and the last thing she should mawkishly be worried now was about going to prison.

He still walked ahead of her — ranting back in Russian — probably, she would understand the superfluous dilemma better in their mother tongue.

Dr Yankoff pulled out a brown package from his jacket and waved it at Sonia when he spoke back while pointing at TV sets in a display showroom of the store — that showed a plane crash —reported in the evening news...

"See! You see that! It is already happening, and I can't have that guilt in my conscious!

"Before I die of that same damn virus, I will expose all the truth that is out there — and the world must know those evil deeds of that greedy and depraved Mikhail Mladic!

"He is going to terminate millions of people now! So let those who bury their dead finally know of his depraved ambitions. Even those dying, who are about to be buried soon should deserve to know who is killing them — that it is Mikhail Mladic and not I — who is the imprudent murderer here!"

The headstrong Dr Boris Yankoff paced over, and he dropped the brown package into a mailbox — with Sonia looking appalled in a disbelief horror.

She heard his intrepid, stentorian voice calling out to keep up...

"Come on, hurry up, Sonia, we have lots of work to do. We must find an alternative solution to this damn mess."

They both walked away from the mail-box into the crowded street — to supervene on their pragmatic mission to exonerate their culpable flaws by saving the future of mankind from total extinction.