“I could retain legal counsel in anticipation of their maneuvers,” said Sendaki. “Money is not a problem.”
“Yeah. Maybe you could hire a big-time attorney ahead of time to try to get you out,” said Lee. “But, my guess is they’ll find you one morning dangling from a light fixture before that happens. The story they’re putting out shows what they’re willing to do.”
“And remember,” said Sarah. “They’ve killed already.”
“Okay. You’ve got me worried,” said Sendaki. “So what do you suggest we do?”
“We need evidence to back you up,” said Sarah.
“Right,” said Lee. “Some type of proof we can throw out that they can’t cover up. Something that will make it obvious right off the bat that we’re telling the truth.”
“That could be a problem,” said Sendaki. “This was a rather cloak-and-dagger relationship. The government made it very clear it was to be undocumented. I certainly don’t have any written confirmation of the government’s role in this. I doubt that AgriGenics has anything like that.”
“They would probably try to discredit any documents, anyway,” said Lee. “If I’m a drug pusher, I might as well be a forger, too. I think the best hope might be to convince some people at AgriGenics to corroborate your story. There must be somebody who would.”
“Well, there are others who have suffered at the hand of Brian Graylock,” said Sendaki. “I don’t know how many will talk for the record. I heard that he recently gave notice to the company’s comptroller. It may be productive having a conversation with him.
“I also personally hired many members of the research staff,” continued Sendaki. “They’re the ones who have first hand knowledge of what has been produced for the government and what, exactly, those products have been designed to do. But, we’d be asking them to give up their jobs.”
“If we get enough of them to come along with us, there may be safety in numbers,” said Lee. “Besides, we’ve got to start somewhere. Even if they won’t go public, they’re on the inside. They may be able to get some other evidence that will be the next best thing.”
They waited until after dark and then made the drive back to the Milbrae Parkway Motel without incident. When they reached the motel, Lee and Sarah paid for another night and checked Sendaki, a.k.a. Ronald Johnson, into the room next door.
Lee and Sarah left Sendaki in his room to call the AgriGenics comptroller. Ten minutes later he knocked on their door.
“We are in luck,” he said. “Sam Schwartz has agreed to see us tomorrow evening. And, he had one bit of interesting news. Sam said most of the secret work has been moved offsite.”
“To where?” said Sarah.
“Sam wasn’t sure. Sam still reports to the office each day, but his duties are minimal and Graylock has walled him off from information. Anyway, Sam believes it is somewhere like Arizona or Nevada, but he isn’t sure where. It is apparently a very deep and dark secret.”
“Hmmm. When they made that move, they must have taken all their equipment,” said Lee.
“Right,” said Sendaki.
“But, they’d have to keep getting certain supplies,” said Lee. “You know, glassware, chemicals, things like that.”
“Yes. I’m sure they would have one or two laboratory supply companies sending things to them,” said Sendaki.
“Is there anything else they would need?” asked Lee. “Anything special that you couldn’t buy at the local mall?”
“Well, the plants and animals.”
“Animals?”
“If they are still working on diseases that affect animals or humans they have to test them,” said Sendaki. “They would need a supply of test animals for that.”
• • •
BARROWS RESEARCH WAS located at a small industrial park in Sunnyvale, outside of San Jose. Somehow the company was allowed to operate there despite the stench emanating from the 84 green monkeys housed in four-foot cages stacked in threes and the angry screeching that continued 24 hours a day.
It’s proprietor, Mitch Barrows, was a 42-year-old high school dropout who had transitioned into the monkey supply business at the advice of his brother, Charlie, who worked at the San Francisco Zoo. Charlie had told him about the chronically short supply of primate test subjects needed by the pharmaceutical industry.
Barrows Research was now one of the largest suppliers of primates for research purposes on the West Coast. Sendaki had recalled that the company was AgriGenics’ source for test monkeys.
Lee called Barrows Research and explained that the founder of AgriGenics had asked him to verify the particulars of the most recent order for primate test subjects. Mitch Barrows had been eager to please one of his largest customers. He provided extremely detailed information, including the exact address in rural Arizona where the 15 green monkeys had been delivered.
Chapter 30
THE TEMPERATURE STILL was in the 90s when Lee’s Southwest Air flight touched down at Sky Harbor International Airport in Phoenix in the early evening. He had left Sarah and Sendaki behind in California to meet with AgriGenics’ comptroller while he learned what he could about the company’s Arizona operation.
Lee hailed a cab that took him to a local car rental outfit called Junkers. After a few minutes of haggling, he convinced the manager at Junkers to forego the credit card requirement and accept an $800 cash deposit on a red 1988 Ford Tempo.
After an hour, Lee reached Casa Grande and then turned off and headed east. Although Lee had to use the headlights now, he drove quickly down the arrow-straight roads.
Lee drove with one hand and tapped the steering wheel with the fingers of the other hand as he felt his own impatience growing. Partly, it was the feeling of being exposed and vulnerable, riding alone in the openness of the desert. Lee also felt a new sense of urgency, a feeling that events were accelerating and if they didn’t stay ahead of them he and Sarah would soon be overtaken and crushed. With Sendaki’s escape from his AgriGenics ‘protectors’ and the resultant media attention, Lee could sense their pursuers’ panic. He knew that along with the effort to discredit Sendaki, the attempts to find them would intensify now. The AgriGenics founder was a powerful new variable added to the equation.
He was headed for Cartwright, Arizona. By happenstance, Lee had sat next to someone on the flight who was familiar with Cartwright. It was a town that had 129 residents, a single stop light, one cafe and two gas stations. A Circle K convenience store had opened four years ago. Its opening had been the biggest event for the city and surrounding environs since former Arizona senator Barry Goldwater’s run for the presidency in 1964.
Two miles outside of Cartwright’s so-called commercial district sat the now-abandoned Cartwright Airport. It had originally been built in the 1950s when uranium mining had literally put Cartwright on the map. When the uranium petered out, the airport had been shut down.
When he finally reached the airport the sun was down but Lee could see by the lingering sunset that the landing strip was laced with huge cracks. Big clumps of grass had eaten through the concrete. But the apron around the old hangar had recently been repaved. Lee noticed the recent renovations to the building, but it looked completely deserted now. He drove around the hangar twice but he saw no sign of activity.
He got out of the Tempo and walked to the front door. He tried it but it wouldn’t budge. Then, Lee moved around to the far side of the hangar. There was a loading dock with a garage door operated by a chain that hung down and was secured to a heavy metal ring with a padlock.
Lee returned to the car, got a tire iron from the trunk. It took him five minutes to maneuver the tire iron so he had the leverage to break the padlock. Then he slid the door open and went inside.
His penlight showed that the area around the loading dock was empty except for some cardboard cartons. He looked them over with his flashlight but found no labels or addresses on the outside. He decided to save them for later and to continue looking through the hangar.
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br /> Lee made his way carefully out of the loading area and down a corridor that led further into the building. He felt like a rat in a hot, stagnant maze, only able to see a few feet ahead. He wondered what surprises awaited him at the end.
The inside of the hangar had obviously been renovated with a complex of interior walls and offices added. With his flashlight, Lee could see that the offices he passed were basic cubicles. They had been stripped bare of furniture and office equipment.
Finally, he came to a large room behind two swinging doors. He panned the room with the penlight. He could make out several lab benches with sinks built into them. The lab was empty of equipment though, not even a microscope not to mention the sophisticated machinery and instruments that Sendaki had assured him would be present in a facility involved in splicing, transplanting and manipulating genes. He opened a few drawers and cabinets. They were empty, not even scraps of paper were left.
Satisfied that nothing of interest had been left behind in the hangar, Lee began retracing his route from the loading dock. After a couple of wrong turns, he neared the loading area again. Then, he felt a puff of cool night air on his face. He froze. He knew he had closed the loading dock doorway. Lee switched off the penlight and stood in the total darkness.
He stood completely still. Sweat dripped off his nose and his own breathing seemed incredibly loud. Lee remembered his tai chi training, trying to relax and stay as calm as possible. He listened intently but heard only the silence which seemed to roar in his ears.
All at once, Lee sensed someone immediately in front of him. He felt the warmth of another body, just before they came into contact, the person’s torso touching Lee’s right arm.
“Hey,” he heard the person say as Lee ran past him toward the loading area. Then he ran headlong into another person and they both went sprawling on the floor. Lee struggled to his feet and tried to keep his legs moving toward the loading dock, but the second person had him around the knees and was holding him back.
“I got ’im. I got ’im,” said the man holding him. Then Lee kicked one leg free, relaxed the other leg and jammed the heel of his hand hard into the nose of the person holding him. He could feel the grasp weaken as he pulled the second leg free. Lee started running toward the loading dock again but then someone else had him around the waist and was pulling him down.
“Hold ’im Goddamit! Hold ’im.” Someone had switched on a flashlight but it was being waved around in the corridor, adding to the confusion. All Lee could see were arms and torsos.
Lee guessed there were three of them. He managed to get back on his feet, lifting someone on his back. Then he fell forward face first onto the cement floor. With his arms pinned, Lee hit flat on his chest and the left side of his face. He was stunned.
It felt like all three were on top of him. Everyone was gasping for air. One of them, probably the one he’d hit, punched him in the kidneys several times. Lee stayed face down on the floor. He slowly regained his breath, trying not to moan, and felt the pain deep at his core from the kidney punches. The left side of his face was numb.
After a few minutes, his arms were jerked around behind his back. He felt rope going around his wrists. Something cloth was put around his eyes and tied behind his head. They pulled him to his knees and helped him stand. He felt someone grab his wallet out of his pants. With a person holding each arm, they marched Lee down the corridor. He stumbled down the stairs as they left the loading dock.
He was shoved into a car. Someone followed him into the backseat. He heard both front doors slam shut and then the car took off.
“What the fuck are we going to do with him?” said the man sitting with him on the backseat. It was a young-sounding voice.
“Shut up,” said the driver. No one spoke for the rest of the ride.
He was still dazed but Lee forced himself to concentrate. He had to think about what might happen next. What choices did he have? Would there be any opportunities to escape? He realized he was in the middle of nowhere. They could kill him and dump him in the desert and it might be weeks before his body would be found. His mind wandered to the image of buzzards and coyotes attacking his corpse. He shook the picture away. He had to think.
They had been driving for some time. Lee guessed about 20 minutes. Through the haze in Lee’s mind, he had reached a few conclusions. First, the only thing of possible value he could give his captors was the location of Sarah and Arthur Sendaki. Remembering that might give him a little time. Nothing else really mattered. There was no reason not to answer all the other questions. When it came to Sarah and Sendaki, he would resist first, then give them the wrong location. Maybe they would let him live while they checked it out. That would give him more time to escape.
The second thing that Lee had decided was to try to escape at any cost. His captors had to be tied in with whomever had killed Orson Adams, Brent Donsen and the rest. He doubted that they would suddenly turn squeamish.
The car pulled to a stop. They helped him out of the car and marched him up some stairs and into what he guessed was a house. The floor felt like hardwood and from the sound of his footsteps he judged the room they entered first was a small one. They put him into another room, setting him down on a bed.
“We’ll be checking on you so don’t try anything,” said the one who had driven the car. He heard the door close.
Lee pushed himself to a sitting position and then slid down so that he sat on the floor with his back against the bed. The rope around his wrists was so tight it was cutting off the circulation. He struggled with it, but it just bit deeper into his skin. It didn’t feel like he was going to get the rope off without something to cut it. He could still run for it, even with his hands tied, if he could just get the blindfold off and figure out a way to get a head start.
He heard footsteps approaching. The door to his room opened, then was shut. He heard the footsteps leaving. He wasn’t going to have a chance to do anything if they were going to look in on him every three minutes.
Off somewhere else in the house, they were having an animated conversation. He couldn’t make it out through the walls, but it sounded like they were arguing. It didn’t make sense to him. What would they be arguing about? Surely they would call whomever was in charge and get directions, even if it was just permission to shoot Lee in the back of the head and leave him deep in the Arizona desert.
Lee waited. Every few minutes, he heard the footsteps and the door open and shut again. He thought about trying to get the blindfold off. If he did that, maybe he could open the door and run for the entrance of the house. But, he had no idea what lay outside, whether he would have any place to run or hide. He decided that after the next check on him, he would try to get the blindfold off, maybe by rubbing his face on the bed. He should have a couple of minutes to figure out some plan to get away.
But, then the conversation stopped. The argument had ended. He guessed a decision had been made. He heard the footsteps, still only one set, approach the room. The door opened. Someone put his hand under his arm and pulled him up.
“C’mon,” he said. It was the driver. He walked Lee out of the house and back down the stairs. He had Lee in front of him, guiding him with one hand on the back of Lee’s upper arm. They walked a hundred yards or so. Then the driver pulled Lee to a halt.
Lee stood for what seemed like forever. He sensed the driver behind him, waiting. Lee expected to feel the muzzle of a gun against the back of his head, or hear the click of a hammer being cocked. This was taking forever. If they were just going to kill him, get it over with. Lee was starting to shake. He was out of breath and could hear his teeth clattering. He was going to lose control of his bladder at any moment. He didn’t want to go like this, pissing in his pants and terrified out of his mind.
Finally, he felt the blindfold being untied. It dropped away. Lee blinked his eyes to clear them. It occurred to him that his glasses were gone. He wondered what had happened to them. At first he saw only the darkness. Then, he
could make out in the distance some headlights. There was a road perhaps a half mile away with a set of headlights on it, then another. There were plants in front of him, low to the ground. And something else, something making the starlight reflect toward him. It was water. Not exactly a pool of water, more like a marsh, with plants growing in it. It occurred to him that it didn’t make sense, a marsh in the middle of the desert.
“This is why you’re here, isn’t it?” said the driver.
What was he talking about? Lee fought to think clearly. The right answer was crucial, a matter of his life or death. Should he admit he didn’t have a clue what the driver was getting at? Would ignorance save him? What the hell was he talking about?
“Yes,” Lee finally said.
“You already know about this, the rice, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. The rice.” Then it dawned on him. Rice paddies. It wasn’t a marsh but rice being grown. But it still didn’t make sense. This was the desert.
Then the driver grabbed the rope around his wrists. Lee felt a knife being inserted. It cut through the rope like it was string. Then he turned Lee around so they were facing. In the moonlight, he could see that the driver looked like he was in his late-20s. The young man assessed Lee warily while he continued to grip the knife. It was a long Bowie knife with a shiny blade and nasty looking point.
“Mister Lee, we have a lot to talk about,” the driver finally said. He turned and headed back toward the house, leaving Lee to follow him.
Chapter 31
SAM SCHWARTZ WAS a short man, not quite rotund, with a closely cropped beard that circled his round face. He wore glasses and his eyes looked sleepy. He welcomed Sarah politely into his townhouse and was effusive at seeing Arthur Sendaki in the flesh.
“Hello, Arthur,” said Schwartz. He had a loud, vigorous voice and spoke quickly. “I didn’t believe any of the B.S. that I’ve been seeing on the tube about you.”
“Hello, Sam. Why, thank you. I think I have been rather unfairly maligned in the past couple of days.”
Project Moses - A Mystery Thriller (Enzo Lee Mystery-Thriller Series) Page 19
