Juan studied Winslow’s facial expressions as the head of AgriMed’s R&D division skimmed the thick clinical report, which documented the progress he’d made with his current experiments on the rats.
The room felt warm and Juan breathed deeply of the earthy scent of the leather chair he sat on.
If all went well, he would get permission to move on to human trials. Except that Juan had been at this stage a dozen times before. Every time he thought he’d crossed every ‘t’ and dotted every ‘i’, Winslow raised questions that he didn’t yet have answers to. The director was a stickler for protocol when it came to human trials.
It had been a grueling few years, but Juan knew he was on the brink of something huge.
Without looking up from the papers, Winslow said in a gravelly tone, “So, specimen 153 has continued to exhibit tumor resistance, but this metabolic panel shows an elevated core temperature. Have you figured out the cause?”
“Not yet, sir. We’ve identified the function of most of the changed genes and are finally in the process of doing a gene knockout assay. Hopefully in the next couple months we’ll have narrowed down the changes to the key genetic fragments we need.”
Winslow leaned forward and stared directly at Juan as he drummed his fingers on his desk. “And how would you propose using that knowledge to treat a human patient?”
A tingle raced up Juan’s neck and his pulse quickened. It was the first time anyone in his management chain had even talked about a next step involving a human patient.
“Sir, we’ve already been using viral agents to treat the specimens. Lately we’ve been successfully inducing sporulation so that the viruses are able to be ingested, the spores burst in the animal’s gut, and only then do they distribute the genetic material.”
To Juan’s surprise, Winslow gave him a warm smile. “Young man, if this all works out, you’re going to revolutionize gene therapy and oncology.”
Juan’s face flushed.
“Yes,” Winslow continued, “I like where you’re going with all of this, and frankly, the results you’ve gotten are miraculous. To you, it must seem like we’ve been real hardasses on you. And I suppose we have. But for a reason. I knew that if by some miracle you could make something of this, we’d have a lot of people in the FDA and other government agencies to convince before we could move forward.”
He jabbed a finger at Juan. “Now it is up to you to take it home. Finish the knockout assay. And when you think you’re at a stage where you’ve isolated the genetic updates to their key constituent parts, then I’ll help you walk it through the ECRB for phase zero human trials.”
Juan’s mind raced as he considered what he had to do next. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.”
Winslow walked around his desk and wrapped an arm around Juan’s shoulders. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
###
A dense crowd of travelers raced past Juan on their way to their gates. Reagan National Airport was busier than normal—but Juan was in no rush. His flight home to Rochester had been delayed two hours. He’d taken up residence in an airport lounge, where he’d been nursing a single beer the entire time.
Still, he could hardly suppress a smile as he indulged in the realization that he was almost there. He might actually be taking what had been a crazy long-shot idea and turning it into something that would save millions of lives. He took a sip of his beer and said to nobody in particular, “Maybe in just a couple months, I’ll be treating my first human patient.”
Juan’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he checked the screen. “Miguel? What’s wrong?” His kid brother rarely called during the middle of the day.
“Juan! You won’t believe the letter I just got.”
With his body tensed, Juan barked, “Don’t play games, what’s going on?”
“I just received an acceptance letter for med school!”
The tension bled out of Juan as he leaned back against the cheap vinyl lounge chair.
His brother’s voice was jubilant as he continued, “You’ll never believe from where.”
Juan knew that his brother had applied to a bunch of schools. “I don’t know. Uh, University of Miami? They’ve got a good—”
“Yale Medical School! Effin’ Yale, bro. Can you imagine? A kid from the barrio attending the Ivy League?”
“Miguel, that’s awesome!” Juan beamed as he listened to his brother read to him the exact wording of the acceptance letter.
Juan knew the moment would be coming when he couldn’t maintain the façade of Mom’s “insurance” being able to pay for school. And when it came to medical school, especially an Ivy League one, he didn’t have a spare fifty thousand dollars a year to just toss around. He and his brother had had that talk when he started applying at the end of his junior year at Georgia Tech.
“Oh, and don’t worry about the cost. I’m covering it. I’ve identified a ton of scholarships I can apply for. Some strictly for Latinos, some other promising ones—I only wish we were Jewish, then there’d be a boatload more. And of course, there’s always loans. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, bro.”
Juan nodded with his cell phone to his ear. “Hey, I’m really proud of you. And I’m sure Mom is smiling down on you right now. Keep me posted on how the scholarships work out. I appreciate you applying, but I’ll still do what I can to help—”
“No you won’t. I’m already pretty sure you were full of shit about Mom’s insurance. I’m not letting you take on any more of my burden.”
A warm feeling of pride swelled within Juan. Miguel had always been incredibly smart.
“I’m able to do this, bro, trust me. I won’t be stupid about this chance.”
“I know it. I love you hermano. Keep in touch.”
“Love you too, bro.”
Just as he hung up, a voice came over the PA.
“Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for American Airlines flight 4359 to Rochester. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time.”
Finally.
Juan downed the little that was left of his warm beer, gathered his things, and started down the terminal toward the gate. On the way, he passed a newsstand and decided to grab a bottle of water for the flight. He opened the glass-front refrigerator containing the plastic bottles, reached inside—and spied a woman’s billfold lying right there on the shelf. Clearly someone had accidentally set it down and then forgotten it. He looked around to see if the owner was nearby, but saw no one.
Buoyed by his recent good news—and Miguel’s—he decided to be a good Samaritan and take it to the Lost and Found. Wherever that was. His flight had only just begun pre-boarding; he had time.
The wallet lay open, and the driver’s license was visible. It seemed the wallet’s owner was a beautiful woman with red hair and bright green eyes.
Juan felt a pang of sadness for the wallet’s owner. She would probably be frantic once she realized it was missing.
He looked around once more and gasped as he spied a woman with bright red hair striding through the terminal, her gaze panning back and forth.
Juan glanced again at the driver’s license, caught the name, and yelled, “Hey, Katherine!”
The girl stopped and turned.
Juan held up the wallet.
“Oh my God!” She hurried over. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe I was that stupid. Now I remember. I was going to buy a water, then changed my mind and I just…”
She took the wallet and flipped through it, then looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. Her eyes were the most intense shade of green that Juan had ever seen. And she was breathtakingly beautiful.
Juan suddenly felt awkward.
She held out a twenty-dollar bill. “Thank you so much for being honest. Take this for—”
“There’s no need.” Juan waved her off. “I’m just glad I saw you race by. Otherwise I would have had to track down the Lost and Found.”
“Well… not everyone would be that honest.”
She smiled, and for a moment Juan felt the world stand still.
“Well,” she said. “I have someone waiting to pick me up.” She put her hands together as if to pray, one of her hands still clutching her wallet. “Bless you. Thanks again.” And she turned and raced away, past the security entrance, and out of Juan’s sight.
“American Airlines flight 4359 to Rochester is now boarding at gate 3.”
Juan stared at where the redheaded girl had gone, then turned away, feeling a sudden sense of loss. Get a grip, Juan. It’s just some nice-looking ditzy chick who forgot her wallet.
As he retrieved his boarding pass from his shirt pocket and handed it to the attendant at the gate, the green-eyed girl’s face was vividly etched in Juan’s mind.
Moments later, as he sat in his window seat, the jet pulling away from the gate, that green-eyed girl’s face still loomed in his mind’s eye. He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? He had a history of having trouble remembering his girlfriend’s last names, but for some reason, he felt he’d never forget this stranger’s name.
“Katherine O’Reilly,” he muttered, “get out of my head.”
###
Kathy sat at her desk and looked over at her roommate’s messy bed. From somewhere down the hall came the sound of girls laughing.
It felt almost surreal to be a student again. Like stepping back in time.
It had been only three weeks since Kathy had confessed to Father Carson about everything that had happened. Three weeks since he’d assigned to her a rather unusual act of penance.
He had tasked her with going back to school. Had told her to take the money that was a seed of her guilt and use it to restart her life.
It sounded impossible. You don’t just decide to go back to school and then end up there three weeks later. But Father Carson had pulled off a minor miracle. Apparently one of his closest friends was on the Board of Directors at Georgetown University, a well-known Catholic university. And somehow, before she knew what was happening, she was admitted and enrolled. And though she was seven years older than all the other first-year students in Darnall Hall, they’d all made her feel welcome.
Turning to the pile of textbooks on her desk, she grabbed the one with a purple cover that had Genetics printed on its spine. She wouldn’t be taking the class until next semester, but it was a subject that she wanted to familiarize herself with… for personal reasons.
She pulled out the printouts she’d tucked into the textbook and looked them over for the hundredth time.
Other than the pink scars all over her body, this data—all two hundred pages of it—was her only solid proof that what happened to her on that island was real.
The printouts, of course, came from the USB flash drive she’d smuggled out of that strange lab. She’d printed it all out at the earliest opportunity, and had, at a minimum, skimmed every last page. Unfortunately, it made little sense. It didn’t help that half of it was in German.
All she could discern was that the scientists on that island were doing some kind of genetic research. And that it was secret. This was made clear by the fact that every page had COSMIC TOP SECRET #53823 printed diagonally in large red cross-hatched letters. The pages written in English typically also had ominous markings like TOP Secret//SI-G DRWN//TK. Internet research told her that these were either NATO or US government classified markings.
Which meant it was probably illegal for her to have even seen any of this. Even if she hadn’t stolen it.
She looked once more at the first page.
Darwin File #390AE202D80E
Summary: Using the Darwin Algorithm V3.4, we have found that the Gen + 15,000 results on Erythrura gouldiae (Gouldian finch) produced specimens with higher-than-normal resistance to fibrosarcoma. Morphology has remained somewhat true to the species, but flocking behavior changes have been noted. Per protocol, the computers are processing the algorithm for the next stage while further analysis on the current population is being done.
Team Leader:
Deidrick Müller, PhD.
Consultants:
Hans Reinhardt, Bundesnachrichtendienst
Ian Wexler, DARPA - BTO
“Kathy!”
Kathy’s roommate, an energetic blonde named Jennifer, barged into the dorm room, rifled through a dresser drawer, and pulled out a one-piece bathing suit. “A bunch of us are going to the pool. Did you want to join us?”
Kathy shook her head. “I can’t right now, Jen. Maybe later.”
“You sure? If you need a bathing suit, I can let you borrow one of mine.”
Kathy imagined wearing a bathing suit in public, displaying the splotchy pink scars that still covered her body from head to toe. “I appreciate it, but I’m kind of nervous about some of my classes, and I really want to get in the habit of studying again. It’s been a while since I’ve had to do this.”
Jennifer gave Kathy a dramatic pout as she changed into her suit. “Maybe when I get back, we can help each other study?”
“I’d love that.”
Jennifer wrapped a thick white terry-cloth robe around herself and headed toward the door. “Well, have fun. I know I will!”
###
Professor Wilkinson’s booming voice reverberated throughout the auditorium. “That’s it for today. You have your study assignments. Let me remind you that in this week’s lab, you’ll be executing experiments that demonstrate substrate-level phosphorylation as part of our chapter on glycolysis and the Krebs cycle. As always, I hope you will have reviewed the material in advance so that you’re prepared to dive right in.”
After a few months in his class, Kathy knew that when Professor Wilkinson said “hope,” he was stating a firm requirement. Everyone said he was one of the toughest profs at the school and that his class was the epitome of the freshman “weed-out” class.
With only two minutes left in class, some of the students in the auditorium began packing up their things when the professor raised his voice, this time using his microphone to combat the din of the students. “Oh—one more thing. For those of you who are considering taking genetics next semester, tonight there’ll be a guest speaker at the University Conference Center talking about how genetics research advances today’s and tomorrow’s medicine. The talk begins at six, but you may want to get there early.”
With Kathy’s interest piqued, she packed her laptop into her backpack and glanced at the wall clock.
She had an appointment for a follow-up visit with the nurse at the on-campus clinic at five. But as long as the clinic wasn’t running behind schedule, she should be able to make it to the talk.
###
Kathy felt as if she were carrying fifty pounds on her back as she followed the gray-haired nurse into the rear of the clinic. The dull fatigue she’d been feeling hadn’t improved in months. At first, she figured it was depression, but it didn’t feel like she was in a mental funk, at least not anymore. In fact, she couldn’t remember a time she was more optimistic about her future; school had been the right move for her. No, it was something else. She just felt… drained. Physically exhausted all the time.
The nurse stopped at a scale. “Let’s get your vitals. Climb up on the scale.”
Kathy frowned as she saw the digital numbers creep up. She was about ten pounds heavier than she’d normally like.
“Good,” the nurse said. “At five foot four, you’re in a healthy range. That’s good.”
The nurse’s grandmotherly voice made Kathy feel a little less self-conscious, especially knowing she’d not exercised at all since the incident at the island and had gained at least five pounds. Kathy really didn’t want to hear about exercise or having to lose weight right now.
Kathy sat patiently as the nurse took her blood pressure and oxygen levels, looked at her throat, and tested her reflexes.
The nurse swiped an odd-looking wand across her forehead and read the digital reading aloud. “99.8 degrees. Well, you have just a slight fever. Do you normally run warm?”
Kathy shrugged. “I don’t think so. But I don’t feel sick, just tired.”
After the nurse left, Kathy had a few minutes while she waited for the doctor. She passed the time reading the posters about birth control and venereal diseases. It surprised her to see these at a Catholic-affiliated institution. Of course she’d heard about the hookup culture in college—girls and guys sleeping around without even being in a committed relationship—but for some reason she thought Georgetown would be different. Personally, the idea disgusted her. She’d only ever been with one person, and he was dead.
A knock sounded on the door to the examination room, and an astonishingly tall doctor walked in. He was the tallest person she’d ever seen. He literally had to duck his head as he walked through the doorway. And when he shook Kathy’s hand, she couldn’t help but notice his hand was twice the size of her own. The man was a giant.
“Katherine O’Reilly, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr. Al-Siddiqui.” He pulled up a chair, sat facing Kathy, and flipped open her chart. “It says here you’ve been suffering from fatigue.”
“Yes. It’s not like I’m lacking strength, it’s just I feel… well, it’s almost as if I’m walking through water. Everything takes more effort than it should. It’s hard to explain.”
The doctor scribbled something in the chart. He looked up at Kathy with a sympathetic expression. “Well, it seems like your vitals are all good. Your temperature is slightly elevated, but it’s warm outside and you might be catching a cold or something. That’s nothing to worry about.” He flipped a page in the chart. “Your bloodwork is mostly all good, but you do show some signs of having a low B12 and mild anemia. That might explain the fatigue you’re experiencing. Before you leave here, we’ll give you a B12 shot, but the anemia is something I’d rather treat with dietary changes. Are you by chance vegetarian?”
“No, I’m a meat and potatoes girl, but I’ve been trying to stick to fish and chicken lately.”
“Let me suggest you add some red meat—at least once or twice a week. Dark-green leafy vegetables, like spinach or kale, are also high in iron. And getting more iron in your system will help your blood transport oxygen—which should give you more of that oomph you feel you’re missing. You think you can do that?”
Kathy smiled. “My dad’s a cattle rancher. So yeah, I’m pretty okay with beef.” The truth was, if her dad knew that the doctor had told her to eat more beef, he’d probably ship her half a cow in steak form, overnight.
“Excellent, then that’s what we’ll do.” The doctor stood, a towering skyscraper of a man. “Let’s have you come back in a month so we can re-check your blood and see how the anemia is doing.”
As Kathy stood, the doctor asked, “Any other questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay then, take care. If for some reason you feel the fatigue gets worse, don’t hesitate to come back and we’ll see what else we can do.”
The doctor left and the gray-haired nurse handed Kathy a yellow lollipop. “I find that a sucker tends to help with the ouchies. I’ll be back in a second, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to stick you.”
As the nurse left, Kathy smiled, unwrapped the lemon lollipop, and waited for her shot.
###
Nate handed his supervisor the evidence report.
“It’s all really suspicious, Jeff. The place was soaked with accelerant and burned to the ground. Whatever they were doing there, they wanted to hide it. And I know what AgriMed said they were doing there—farming some tropical medicinal plants—but the lab boys were able to get some serial numbers from what we found and—”
Jeff was already flipping through the report. “Shit, German intelligence? CIA?” He read the relevant section aloud. “Six of the retrieved computers came from a shipment of twenty-five Dell Precision workstations ordered by the BND. The delivery address was confirmed to be one of the German offices of the Federal Intelligence Service.”
He looked up at Nate. “What are you thinking?”
Nate frowned and pressed his back against his chair, tilting it back just a bit. “I’m thinking there’s absolutely no reason for some farming outfit to have the equipment and tech they had on site. We didn’t find any evidence of electronically controlled irrigation or anything else that would be computer-controlled. It doesn’t make sense. Something is going on and I don’t buy the complainant’s story about some innocent little farm. And burning it all down? This all smells like a bunch of horseshit.”
Binghamton nodded and tapped the end of a pencil on his desk. “I don’t understand it either. And the CIA connection is troubling. Are we sure about that? Because if we are—that puts a whole new flavor on this.”
Nate reached over and flipped through the report, then pointed. “The receipts are right here. The items were delivered to the same address as CIA headquarters.”
Binghamton frowned. “I’m sick of those guys pulling this crap on us. Maybe there’s something going on with the Germans and the agency, but what’s the role of the pharmaceutical company? I don’t see the connection. Shit. I have no idea if this is an authorized operation. It might be a black op we shouldn’t have stumbled into, or maybe some rogue activity that has some bad actors involved.” He shook his head, then pointed the pencil at Nate. “This is what I’m going to do. I’ll start procedures to get a FISA warrant. I want to know what the intelligence community knows about these guys and that island. As for the CIA, I’ll make a formal interdepartmental inquiry and see where that goes.”
“Sir,” Nate said, “if you’ll approve the travel budget, I’d like to follow up on AgriMed’s story about the woman who was rescued from the island. See what she knows, if anything.”
Binghamton asked, “Do you have a lead on her whereabouts?”
“Not yet, but I’ve got a name from the initial report taken from the complainant. Her name sounds American. I was going to search through the passport and immigration database and assuming I get a hit, follow up with a banking records search to narrow down where she is. Assuming the name we got is real and she went through one of our border crossings or ports of entry, I think I have a fairly good chance of finding her.”
“Fine. Do it. This whole thing stinks. Go ahead, track her down and bring her in for questioning. I’ll follow the other angles and we’ll meet in the middle on this. Keep me posted on your findings.”
Nate paused. “Sir… what if this is an op we’re not supposed to know about?”
“We’re all on the same team, Nate.”
“With the Germans?”
Binghamton grimaced. “God, I hope so. But… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you have another agent with you. Watch each other’s backs.”