Quaranteam-Northwest: Part 7 Hillbilly Tactics. Based on a post by Break The Bar. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.   The TV flashed, losing a digital telephone ring, and I grabbed the remote from the table and accepted the call. "Hey, Harrison," said the man on the other end. He was another lab coat, and as best I could tell from the blurry background he was likely in the same facility or even the same room as Doctor Varma had been. This guy looked like he'd stepped right out of a corny television show though; he was blubbery in the way that a guy could be after a couple of decades of slow physical decline, with a burst of thinning silver hair that just needed the black streaks and some smudges on his face to look like he'd been catoonishly blown up. The bit of scraggly, messy scruff on his chin that looked unplanned made me a little self-conscious of my own currently messy beard. Erica had wanted me to grow mine out a bit so she could decide if she liked it longer ...