Galen gestured to the woman by the operating table. “Dr. Hartman, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Monica Owens, who, you’ll be pleased to hear, is as skilled as she is beautiful.”
Monica had her head bowed, staring at the floor, looking ashamed.
“Skilled at what?” said Frank.
“Cardiothoracic surgery, mostly,” said Galen, “but she can do pretty much anything, really. She gave Jonathan his new kidney, for example. Never done one of those in her life, but she handled it like an old pro. Her hand is very steady, Dr. Hartman, very steady. And her understanding of the human anatomy extensive. We’re lucky to have her on board.”
Dr. Monica Owens didn’t look as if she felt very lucky.
The doors on the opposite side of the room opened, and more Healers entered, pushing four gurneys. The people on the gurneys were asleep, covered up to their chests with white sheets, and wearing paper surgical caps on their heads.
Galen pointed to each one in turn. “Dr. Hartman, I introduce you to Byron, Nick, Dolores, and Hal.” Frank looked at each face. There were none he recognized. Who were these? Healers? Homeless people like Jonathan Fox?
Another man came into the room.
“And this,” said Galen, “is the very talented Dr. Kouichi Yoshida. He’ll be helping us today as well.”
Yoshida made a beeline for Frank, a wide smile on his lips. “Dr. Hartman, a pleasure to meet you. Welcome.” He took Frank’s hand and shook it.
Galen said, “Dr. Yoshida, would you mind helping Dr. Owens get everyone ready?”
Yoshida seemed overly chipper. “Of course, sir. Dr. Hartman, if you’ll excuse me.”
Yoshida left and began examining the people asleep on the gurneys.
“I’m a very important person, Dr. Hartman,” said Galen. “The work I do, the treatments I offer, it can literally heal the world. I’ve studied and waited for this my entire life. And as you can see, it’s been a long life.” He sighed sadly and patted his stomach. “I’m an old man now, Frank. I’m not as young and strong as I used to be. Well, not as young, anyway. I’m actually fairly strong. A few genetic tweaks of my own doing, but that’s beside the point. The point is, I’m going to die. This old body will eventually shrivel up and call it quits. Oh sure, I’ve probably got a good twenty years left in me, but that’s twenty years of arthritis and shuffle-board. And frankly, I’m not interested in slowly going out of this world. Old people depress me. So I’ve made a decision, Frank. I’m not going to die. Not permanently, anway. My mind is too valuable, my life too precious to lose forever.
“This is a new dawning, Frank. A start of a different race of man. And I’m leading it. Without me the effort will crumble, and mankind would be doomed to even greater suffering and disease. So I found a way, Frank, a way to preserve my life. To escape death. To keep me around as long as the world needs me. And I’m going to do it. And you’re going to help me.
“You didn’t volunteer, of course, and to be perfectly honest with you, I was going to use one of my own followers for the fifth participant. But when you came along, I had a slight change of plans. I improvised and decided to make you the fifth participant.
“And why you, you ask? Why should you be so lucky? Well, several reasons.” He counted them off on his fingers. “Number one, you’re young. You’ve got a good build on you, and your records show you’re in the best of health. Number two, and more importantly, you’ve discovered a way to stop our virus. That makes you an enemy to our effort.”
He smiled. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think you’re a bad person. I think you’re a fine man, in fact. An exemplary servant to your country. But right now, you’re the biggest threat to our operation. Involving you intimately in the project is a way of dealing with that threat. If you understood what we were doing, if you knew what this was all about, you wouldn’t be trying to stop us. You’d enlist in our cause immediately.
“Number three, you’re a handsome devil, and I’ve never had much luck with the ladies. It’s about time I cashed in, I’d say.”
Frank looked from Stone to the exit. “What are you going to do to me?”
Galen began unbuttoning his shirt. “It’s a risky procedure, yes, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Our trial run with Jonathan was going smoothly, and had he not run off and ruined the test, I’m confident all would have gone as planned. I’m so confident in fact, that I’m staking my life on it. This time, the other person on that operating table will be me.”
Galen removed his shirt and handed it to Stone, exposing a chest of white hair. “You’ll be happy to know that your blood type matches mine. Everything should go smoothly.”
Frank lunged. Before Stone could interfere, Frank grabbed Galen, spun him around, and put him in a choke hold.
The Healers in the room gasped. Stone moved to intervene.
“Back off!” said Frank. “Come any closer and I’ll snap his neck.”
Stone froze, keeping his distance.
“This is foolishness, Frank,” said Galen calmly. “You’re only hurting yourself. I can break free at any time. Easy as cheesy.”
Frank backed away toward the exit, pulling Galen with him, using him as a shield between him and the others.
“You can’t escape from here, Frank,” said Galen. “It’s silly to even try.
They reached the doorway.
“I won’t warn you again,” said Galen. “Release me or I will be forced to take action.” Frank tightened his grip on Galen’s throat in an effort to shut him up. Galen reached up and with a force and strength Frank didn’t expect, and pulled at Frank’s arms. The choke hold slipped, and Galen stepped out of it easily.
“When I said I was strong, Frank, I meant it.” He grabbed Frank by the front of his suit and lifted him off the ground. “Now you try my patience.”
Galen tossed Frank back into the operating room as if he weighed nothing.
Frank flew through the air, arms flailing, and crashed into one of the metal trays by the operating tables, sending surgical tools in every direction.
Monica screamed.
Before Frank could get up, Stone had him. He lifted Frank off the ground and slammed him onto one of the operating tables. Frank kicked and struggled, but Stone’s grip, like his foot, held Frank fast.
Yoshida came to the side of the table, still smiling placidly, as if this were the most pleasant exercise in which he could participate. He carried a small metal tray on which sat a single computer chip.
Monica was off to the side crying, her hands in her face.
“There, there, Dr. Owens,” said Galen. “Please don’t be upset. I need you in top form now. Let’s not have those eyes of yours clouded with tears.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her.
Yoshida began tightening leather restraints around Frank’s ankles and wrists.
Galen came to the side of the bed. He removed the headband and camcorder and offered them to Yoshida. “Download this footage as well, will you, Dr. Yoshida? I want Frank to have a record of it. He’ll appreciate it some day.”
Yoshida nodded obediently. “Of course. I’ll return momentarily.” He took the camcorder and the metal tray holding the computer chip and exited the room.
Frank’s heart was pounding. He pulled at the restraints, but they wouldn’t budge.
Above him, behind the glass of the second floor, he could see Healers coming in and taking seats. They were waiting for this, witnesses to it.
Galen prepared a syringe. “I’m afraid Jonathan’s escape caused all kinds of problems,” he said. “We’ve had to step up our plans a bit, move the calendar ahead, as it were. This facility will be discovered soon, so our time is short. But don’t worry, Frank, once we’re finished here, we’ll take you somewhere where you can rest and recuperate.” He removed the needle from a vial of medication, then pushed on the stopper to get out any bubbles. A drop of liquid escaped the needle point, and Galen turned over Frank’s arm, exposing the veins on the
inside of his elbow.
Frank watched him, his eyes wide. “What do you want from me?”
Galen stuck the needle into the vein and pushed down on the stopper. “Everything but your heart.”
Frank felt the cold sensation of a heavy sedative rush through his bloodstream, and in seconds all went black.
20
INTERROCATION
Agent Carmen Hernandez stood in the interrogation room at the BHA, her arms folded across her chest. Sitting at the table opposite her with his arm in a sling was Roland Turner.
“I want to see my daughter,” Turner said. “I want to see Kimberly.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Mr. Turner,” said Hernandez. “Kimberly is in quarantine for the time being. We need to observe her for a few days, make sure the virus inside her has been completely annihilated.”
Turner’s face grew angry. “You can’t keep her away from me. You got no right.” He turned his head and looked into the two-way mirror in front of him. “You people got no right, you hear me? She’s my daughter.” He looked back at Hernandez. “I want to talk to my lawyer. I want my phone call. You people can’t hold me like this.”
“We’re only asking for your cooperation, Mr. Turner. If you cooperate, it’s possible that the charges against you will be dropped.”
Turner stiffened. “Charges? What charges?”
“You had a harmful, illegal substance in your home. And you were aiding a possible criminal in administering that substance to your daughter.”
“It was going to heal her! Do you think I’d let him give it to her if I wasn’t sure of that?”
Hernandez put her hands in her pockets and approached the table. “How are you sure?”
“What do you mean?”
“What makes you so certain? How did you know this virus was as effective as the Healers claimed it would be?”
Turner looked down at the table.
Hernandez pressed on. “You’re clearly a man who loves his daughter, Mr. Turner. You wouldn’t do anything that you thought might hurt her, so I believe you when you say you knew it would work. What I don’t know and would like to know is what made you so sure? How did the Healers convince you?”
“I want to talk to my lawyer,” said Turner, not lifting his head.
“These Healers downloaded your daughter’s medical records from Children’s Hospital. In other words, they acquired those records illegally. Were you aware of that?”
Turner said nothing.
“I’m sure you want to cooperate, Mr. Turner. I’m sure you want what’s best for Kimberly. But unless you start talking, I’ll be forced to call Social Services.”
Turner’s head snapped up. “Social Services?”
“Considering the threat your daughter was under, we can easily make a case with the state that you’re an unfit parent.”
For the first time, Turner looked afraid. “You wouldn’t do that. I love my daughter. I’d do anything for her.”
“I don’t doubt that, Mr. Turner. But I’m not sure the state would agree, considering the seriousness of the situation.”
Turner was silent a long moment. He closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged, all the fire inside him extinguished. “What do you want to know?” he said softly.
Later that afternoon Agent Hernandez stood at attention inside Director Irving’s office. Irving sat behind his desk, unwrapping a stick of chewing gum and popping it in his mouth, watching her.
“You don’t have to stand there like a tin soldier, Agent Hernandez,” he said. “This isn’t the Marines.” He waved a hand. “Or wherever it was you served before coming here.”
Hernandez positioned her body into a parade-rest stance, her eyes straight ahead. “Navy, sir.”
Irving nodded. “Yes, yes, the Navy. Jaunty white hats and ships ahoy.”
Hernandez allowed her gaze to lower for the first time and looked at the man.
Director Irving smiled. “No offense, Agent Hernandez. I have nothing but respect for our boys in green . . . or in your case, women in white.” He cocked his head to the side, considering. “The Navy do wear white, am I right?”
The slightest hint of annoyance flickered across Hernandez’s face. “Sometimes, sir.”
“I thought so.” Director Irving tossed the gum wrapper into the garbage can and came around to the front of his desk. “So you had a nice visit with Mr. Roland Turner, did you?”
“Yes, sir. He was most cooperative. With your permission, I’d like to see to it that the charges against him are dropped.”
Irving held up a hand and chuckled. “Now, let’s not get too hasty, Agent Hernandez. This Turner fellow is a criminal as much as these Healers are, in my opinion. To release him back into society is to put society at risk. Who’s to say this isn’t the beginning of a life of crime for this man?”
Hernandez remained silent, her eyes staring ahead, not looking at him.
“Then again,” said Irving, “I do value your judgment. If you think the man should be released, I’ll give that recommendation serious consideration.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now, in so many words, what did he say?”
“Healers approached him several weeks ago, sir. And they were forthcoming in how they acquired Kimberly’s medical records.”
“Kimberly is the little girl in question?” Yes, sir. Go on.
“So they told Mr. Turner that they had downloaded her records from the hospital.”
“And he didn’t throw them out of his house straightaway? Tsk, tsk. I’m losing confidence in this recommendation of yours, Agent Hernandez. Mr. Turner sounds like a most unsound individual.”
“If I could continue, sir.”
Irving sat in his desk and grinned. “By all means.”
“Mr. Turner also explained that Healers brought a former patient to his home. A young boy whom the Healers had already cured of sickle-cell anemia.”
“Or so they said,” Irving said.
“Sir?”
“Healers said they had cured this boy of sickle-cell anemia. Who’s to say they actually did? He could have been an actor.”
“To hear Mr. Turner tell it,” said Hernandez, “it was a most convincing presentation.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” said Irving. “Let me guess.” He put a hand to his chin, thinking. “The Healers probably showed Mr. Turner the boy’s medical records as evidence that at one time he did indeed have sickle-cell anemia. Then they showed Turner recent test results proving that the boy no longer had the disease. Then they let the boy speak, and perhaps his parents as well, giving heartfelt teary-eyed testimony that the Healers were a godsend and if not for them, poor little Timmy here would still be crippled with the disease.”
Hernandez looked at him, surprised. “As a matter of fact, sir, that’s precisely what happened. In a nutshell, I mean.”
Director Irving stood up and shrugged. “These people are all alike, Agent Hernandez. I’ve seen this countless times before. They all use the same con, bait and switch. It was a sham, and gullible Mr. Turner, who, bless his heart, only wanted what was best for his daughter, was suckered in.”
Agent Hernandez looked confused. “Is it not also possible, sir, that the former patient who visited him was, in fact, legitimate?”
Irving waved a hand and laughed. “Please, Agent Hernandez. These Healers are petty con men, circus performers. What they probably intended to do was return to Turner’s home after, quote unquote, treating his daughter and politely ask for a sizable donation to their, quote unquote, cause, which Mr. Turner, being a naive little man, would probably have given.”
“There’s no evidence to substantiate that claim, sir.”
“Of course not,” Irving said, amused. “We caught the bastard before the Healers had a chance to sink their teeth into his wallet. He should be thanking us. Now, I want you to write a full report of your interview and give me the sole copy. Then I want Mr. Turner placed in confinement. I want him to
speak to no one.”
Hernandez raised an eyebrow. “Confinement?”
“Did I mispronounce the word? Confinement.”
“Can we do that, sir?”
Irving stood up to his full stature and raised a finger. “You forget that I am a presidential appointee, Agent Hernandez. I have the support and protection of the president of this great nation, our commander in chief. He has given me a responsibility, and until this Healer mess is swept under the carpet, this Mr. Roland Turner, whom I consider a flight risk, will remain in our custody. Do I make myself clear?”
Hernandez looked frightened.
Director Irving felt some sense of satisfaction at this. To fill a person with fear, particularly a beautiful woman such as Agent Hernandez, was most arousing.
“Sir?” said Agent Hernandez. “Are you all right?”
Irving blinked. “What?”
“Your hands and face . . . they’re trembling.”
Irving stepped away from her, pocketing his hands and going to the watercooler across the room. “I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s stress. These Healers, they’ve got me all in a fluster. You understand.”
He filled a cup with water and tried to bring it to his lips. His hands were shaking so badly, he spilled much of the water in the process. “That will be all, Agent Hernandez.”
She stood there, brow wrinkled, watching him.
“I said that will be all, Agent Hernandez.”
She left.
He downed the rest of the cold water in a single swig, splashing much of it on his face in the process. He threw the paper cup to the floor and looked at his trembling hands. It was happening again. The shakes. And this time someone had noticed.
He went to his desk and opened the top drawer. The vial of Galen’s saliva was exactly where he had left it. He took it out and tried to unscrew the cap. It slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. Hs hands were trembling too much to hold it. He cursed aloud, then got down on all fours to retrieve it.
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