5 HighTower

 

Tongzhou District. Beijing China. Jun 5. 2033

39.9167°N, 116.3833° E

 

The limousine pulled alongside HSA’s private jet precisely as the staircase unfolded. The automated chauffer opened the limo’s rear doors. Liu Feng stepped onto the tarmac followed by his nervous assistant. A flight attendant welcomed them aboard and ushered them through the cabin. The jet’s lavish interior consisted of several tables inlayed with the gold-leafed initials HT, encircled by seats upholstered in white leather. Two plush sofas bookended a glass table at the aft end of the cabin. An open bottle of Perrier-Jouet Champagne lay askew in a silver bucket adjacent to a platter of Iranian Beluga. Delicate, mother-of-pearl spoons encircled the dish. A tall man in his mid-50s, leaned back in one of the seats and puffed on a Cohiba-Behike. He was dressed in a grey pinstriped vicuna suit. As he drew in the smoke, creases appeared around his eyes and mouth, accentuating his permanent tan. Waving the gentlemen over with a flick of his cigar, he drawled, “Have a seat Mr. Feng, make yourselves comfortable. Hey sugar, set these folks up with drinks, would you please?”

The flight attendant offered crystal flutes to both men and placed a tray of hors-d'oeuvres next to the caviar. “May I bring you anything else Mr. Banks?”

“We’re fine. Make yourself scarce, hon.’” Nelson Banks waited until the attendant closed the cabin door behind her, before speaking. “Well? Let’s hear it Feng. What’s got all your boys’ nuts in a vice?”

Mr. Feng set his glass on the table and said, “Yes, well. First ah, please accept my sincere apologies for the necessity of this…”

“Skip to it, man. I’m not sitting here for my health.”

“Yes Mr. Banks, of course. I’ll get right to the point. We, ah… We’ve had a rather severe breach of security at our Hong Kong facility, you see.”

“Now that’s a crying shame, a real shame, Feng. But what in the Sam Hill does that have to do with my company?”

“Rather sensitive information… communiques, you see, were apparently… Ah, hmmm, confiscated. Communication regarding the Revelations project.”

Banks stubbed out his cigar and leaned forward. He glared across the table as he slowly exhaled the smoke. “You mean to tell me that actual documentation still exists—documents linking your lab’s research directly to HighTower? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Mr. Feng managed to nod his head up and down. Swallowing hard, he muttered, “There were several emails that were marked as top secret, which should have been—actually we assumed they had been—ah, destroyed… deleted. Ah, but the researcher did not do so. These were, most regrettably, discovered by the lab’s lead scientist—his partner—name of Chen, Kim. We are of course, making every effort to locate this man.”

“Wait a minute, hold on—y’all have lost this scientist—as in you are unable to find him?” Banks slammed his fist hard on the table. He leaned back and rubbed his chin, momentarily at a loss for words. He counted slowly to ten under his breath before continuing, “Gentlemen, do you realize what those emails might have contained? Can you begin to fathom the severity—the colossal shit-storm that will rain down upon our collective heads if this situation isn’t contained immediately?” His words increased in volume with each sentence.

“Please, please—we are acutely aware of what damage this will cause. In fact, Mr. Huang himself is overseeing the, ah, the return of this individual…”

“Return? I don’t want him back! I want him dead. Understood Feng? Tell your boss, ‘d-e-d,’ dead.”

Feng reached up to loosen his collar, “Ah yes, that is not such a good idea, Mr. Banks. You see… well, this individual has gone missing with all the samples and data pertaining to this project. He might… Ah, well, he may attempt to sell it to another government or perhaps a terrorist organization.”

Banks stood up and walked toward the cockpit, then spun on his heels and strode back to the sofa. He shook his head and then sat back down. “I am dis-pleased, Mr. Feng. I am very, very displeased.” Ignoring Feng’s attempt to explain, he reached for his mobile and pressed a contact number. “Richard. Nelson here… yeah, I’m still in Beijing right now. Look there’s an urgent matter that we need to talk about. Yeah, yeah, the Hong Kong thing. Look, I want you on a plane to Denver in an hour, got it?” He looked over at Feng and the assistant and asked, “Get me everything you’ve got on this scientist and the gene-drive—whatever you have left anyway. I need it pronto.”

Feng’s assistant swallowed, returned his caviar to the plate and cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes sir, at once.”

“OK Richard, once on the ground, I want one of our black ops teams activated by the time you’ve reached headquarters, clear? And Richard—get me the cleaner. Ashfield’s the best man for this job…. Of course. Let’s keep this discreet, need I say more? Yup, see you in twelve.”

The assistant held his tablet for Feng to examine and pointed to the screen.

“Well?” Banks hissed.

“Yes, the information you have requested has been transferred.” Feng said.

“Very good. Now, bear with me as I recap for a few seconds: We’ve got ourselves some sort of ‘rogue scientist’, on the loose—so to speak—who is in possession of a genetic enzyme with a delivery system so effective that it could wipe mankind off the face of this goddamned planet… Furthermore, he’s carrying evidence that incriminates us—your company and mine, pal—in developing this highly illegal project? …Please, feel free to correct me if I’m overstating the complexity of this clusterfuck we’re currently experiencing. How’m I doin here?”

“Ah, yes, this is very grave indeed… but ah, the “CAS9 Revelations project would most likely not cause… a complete annihilation. I feel certain that with enough, ah…”

“Feng. Shut. Up.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Banks. I apologize. A most regrettable incident.”

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen: You are going back to tell your boss, Mr. Huang… that HighTower will be taking point on this man-hunt, once I’m fully up to speed—got it? This is not up for negotiation. Your operation now answers directly to HSA.”

Mr. Feng fidgeted with his tie. “Of course, I will convey your sentiments, but you see, our government… Ah, is also rather interested in apprehending this man. Your company was not the only project contracted to Huang Biotechnologies.”

“Let me be blunt with you, Mr. Feng. Should the United States government get a whiff of what we’ve cooked up with your company… you can bet your yellow ass that the Chinese Ministry will be one of many standing in line for sloppy seconds.”

“Sir, I appreciate your predicament, but I must insist…”

“Enough, enough—we’re done here. Listen, this entire conversation—this entire meeting did not officially happen. I was never here. Am I crystal clear?” Both men gave almost imperceptible nods of agreement. Banks stood up and extended his arm toward the door. “You’ll have to excuse me gentlemen, I believe I’m going to have to get this bird back in the air a little sooner than expected.”

“Yes, certainly Mr. Banks. May I say again that Huang Biotechnologies is doing everything…”

“Get off my damn plane.”