“I agree with Jordan about this,” Kat said. “Everyone—and I mean, everyone—from Ashby to the government will want to control this breakthrough, and there will simply be no way to limit its use to those who really need it.”
Burton slowly nodded. “I do believe she has a very valid point. In our excitement about the formula proving successful, we didn’t stop to think through all of the implications of its eventual use.”
Sheila shook her head. “They are correct. The formula works too well to ever be kept a secret. Even if we only used it on the truly needy, the ones with neurological or renal diseases who would not survive without it, there is simply no way to hide the rejuvenation and intelligence-enhancing effects from their friends and families.”
“And trying to get them to all form new identities just wouldn’t be practical. Few would be willing to cut off all contact with their friends and family, even if the alternative was death,” Kevin added.
“And we are forgetting the most important person in all of this,” Kat said, looking from one to the other. “J.P. Ashby is not a man to let something this valuable escape his control, no matter what he promises Kevin’s uncle. He is bound to come after us with a vengeance once he sees what the formula is capable of.”
Kevin shook his head. “And it will be damn near impossible to hide from a man with several billion dollars to spend to try to find us.” He looked around the table. “I am afraid Jordan was right. We’ve made a deal with the devil.”
Burton slammed his hand down on the table, drawing a reproving glance from their waiter across the room. “Well, hell. What if we forget about all of our do-gooder ideas and just tell Ashby we are going to give him the formula for the half billion dollars, then go on our way? Then he would have no reason to come after us and we’d at least be safe, and with more money than we could ever spend to boot.”
Sheila gave him a dirty look and was about to object, when Kevin shook his head and interrupted. “It’s no good, Burton. Even with that offer, Ashby would just consider us loose ends that had to be dealt with. There is no way a man like him would ever let us live, knowing what we know about the formula. It would be too big of a risk that we’d reconsider and let the secret out of the bag, ruining his chance to make yet another fortune from selling the formula to the rich and powerful.”
Sheila turned to look at Kat. “Assuming we can figure out some way to deal with Ashby, do you think Jordan is right that with his new intelligence he will be able to separate the formula’s effects and make it to where it just cures the neurological and renal diseases alone without the rejuvenating effects?”
“But the man has no knowledge of biochemistry, let alone medicine,” Burton objected.
Kevin shrugged and pointed to a duffel bag on the chair next to him. “That’s why he requested that I bring him all available books on the subjects in question. He figures he can learn enough from the books and from our notes on the formula to at least make some progress along those lines.”
“Bullshit,” Burton blurted. “No one can learn all that in the time we have left before we have to put up or shut up with Ashby.”
“Perhaps not by himself, but what if we all worked together?” Kat asked. “After all, we have a fully equipped lab in the safe house, along with some very powerful computers that Kevin provided us. Heck, we’ll never know if we don’t try, and it does seem the only way that the formula will ever be used for good instead of greed.”
As the others all began to talk at once, Kevin held up his hand. “Just a minute, folks. While we cogitate on those questions, I have some news I’d like to bring before the group.”
When he had their undivided attention, he brought forth his legal pad from his backpack. He set it on the table in front of them and began to go over the four things they needed to do to get the formula to Ashby and still remain safe.
Once he’d gone over all of the objectives, he said, “I’ve managed a way to do the first. I told my uncle that we would include a chemical in the syringe that would destroy the formula if it was subjected to air. That way they couldn’t risk trying to have the components of the formula analyzed for the purpose of making their own.”
“That’s brilliant, Kevin,” Kat said. “What chemical did you come up with for us to use?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea. I was hoping you geniuses would be able to figure something out, but if not, perhaps the bluff alone would be sufficient. I don’t see Ashby risking his rejuvenation on the chance that we might be bluffing.”
“That’s something else that we could put our heads together to try to figure out while working with Jordan,” Burton said, a look of approval on his face at Kevin’s ingenuity.
“I have also made some progress on the second issue, getting the money into our hands in a manner secret from both Ashby and the government.”
He went on to explain the anonymous banking website and how he’d signed them all up for it. “I also took the liberty of adding Jordan’s name to the list. I hope that meets with your approval.”
“What?” Burton exclaimed. “Why, the man had nothing to do with developing the formula. Why should he get a share? Isn’t saving his life and making him younger and smarter enough?”
Sheila put her hand over Burton’s. “Dear, even with Jordan getting a full share, you’ll still come out with a hundred million dollars instead of one hundred and twenty-five million. Don’t you really think that is enough money?”
Burton had the grace to blush. “Well, sweetheart, when you put it that way, I guess so.”
“Two other quick points before we get to issue numbers three and four,” Kevin said. “I pushed my uncle for another fifty thousand dollars seed money. I thought we’d use it to set up the anonymous corporation for the offshore bank and to buy another couple of cars use to escape Ashby’s detectives. It is just too cumbersome to try to transport all of us in the Honda, especially as we get closer to the deal with Ashby. I do expect him to double up on the surveillance.”
Everyone glanced at one another and nodded. “Good idea, Kevin. Thank God you’re right on top of things,” Kat said, affection in her voice.
He frowned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kat, but I’m afraid I’m drawing a blank on the last two points—getting the formula to my uncle from a safe place where we can’t be trapped or taken, and disappearing afterward to someplace secure where we can’t be found.”
When everyone looked concerned and it was clear that no one else had any ideas, Kat said tentatively, “I may just know someone who could help us with those two problems.”
“Who is that, dear?” Sheila asked.
“My father used to tell me stories of a second cousin of mine who was a mercenary pilot and jack-of-all-trades who sort of lived on the edge of society and made his living by flying into and out of danger zones, transporting everything from arms to people to other questionable cargo. If I can locate him, it might just be that he could be the answer to these two problems.”
“How old is this jack-of-all-trades mercenary?” Burton asked skeptically.
Kat shrugged. “A little older than me, I think. He’d probably be in his early sixties by now.”
Kevin pulled his laptop from his backpack and opened it. “What is his name?”
“Jackson Dillard, but I doubt if he’s going to be easy to find, not with his background.”
Kevin opened up Google and typed in Dillard’s name. After a moment, his eyes flashed and he grinned. “Well, I’ll be damned. He has his own website.”
He made a few more clicks and then looked up at the group. “Seems he’s gone at least partly legitimate, Kat. It says here that he operates a flying service out of Galveston, Texas, flying freight and ‘sundries’ from Texas to Mexico and the Caribbean.”
“Legitimate, my ass,” Burton said, smiling. “Sounds suspiciously like a smuggler advertising right out in the open.”
Kat pulled a small notebook from her purse. “Give me that
number, Kevin, and I’ll call him and set up a meeting. After we all get to know him a little, we can take a vote on whether we trust him enough to ask him to help us.”
“Even if he can’t help us, perhaps he can give us some ideas of how to proceed to solve our problems,” Sheila offered.
Burton scowled. “As long as we don’t give him too much information until we all agree he’s our man.”
Everyone agreed and they left the restaurant. Out in the parking lot, Kat got in her rental and the others piled into the Honda. After Kat dropped the rental car off at a Houston branch of the rental car company, she got in the Honda and Kevin drove them to a large used car lot on the 610 Freeway. There they bought two additional cars with cash, using fake names. Kat drove off in one, and Sheila and Burton took the other one.
Before they left, Kevin cautioned them to use care in parking the cars so that anyone trying to keep tabs on them would not see them.
They promised to talk the next day by their burner phones to find out what Kat had learned about Jackson Dillard. Sheila said she would see about getting coverage for her practice so she could work with all of them on separating out the effects of the formula.
As he was driving the safe car toward their apartment, Burton glanced over at her and said, “Dear, I hate to mention this, but it looks like from our discussion that we are all going to have to disappear for good once this is over. Perhaps you’d better think about either selling the practice or giving it to someone you trust who will take good care of your patients.” He shrugged. “Because we may have to move very fast when the time comes, and I know you’d not want to leave your patients in the lurch without coverage.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “Oh Jesus, Burton, you’re right. I guess I just didn’t want to face the fact that my career in medicine is soon to be over.”
“Well, maybe not over, sweetie. There may be some way you can still practice medicine wherever it is that we come to roost.”
She choked off a sob. “I don’t know if I would have agreed to all of this if I’d known all the changes it would mean in our lives.”
He took his hand off the steering wheel and put it on hers. “At least it has brought us back together, and for me that is worth any cost.”
She squeezed his hand and smiled through her tears. “Oh, it is for me, too, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER 33
FBI special agent Nicholas Fowler emerged from the safe house bathroom feeling like a new man. He now had a purpose that was driving him—to steal the rejuvenation formula from the scientists before they could give it to Ashby. He’d teach his fucking wife a lesson for leaving him—he’d become super rich and stick it in her face. Hell, once he had control of the formula he might just decide to take some himself and become thirty years younger, like the guy in the video Ashby had watched.
He checked his cell phone to make sure it was still forwarding calls from his home, just in case someone from the FBI office called to check on him.
He fixed a cup of coffee using the old Mr. Coffee in the kitchen and sat down at the desk containing the computer monitors used in the surveillance of Ashby’s bedroom.
He thought for a moment, then dialed the number of the intelligence division at FBI headquarters. When the phone was answered, Fowler gave another FBI agent’s name and badge number and asked for the license plate numbers of everyone involved with the formula. Just in case anyone thought to check, he didn’t want it known he still had an interest in the case.
After he wrote them down, he took one last look at the computer monitor to make sure nothing was going on at the Ashby mansion. Ashby was still asleep, so he left the safe house and headed for the parking garage of Dr. Sheila Goodman. He knew that her estranged husband, Burton Ramsey, was staying there most nights now, so he figured he could check out both of their cars at the same time. He’d leave the college student, Kevin, and Dr. Williams for later.
When he got to the garage of the Twin Towers apartment complex, he finally found both Goodman’s and Ramsey’s cars parked next to each other on the third floor. Smiling, he pulled a black plastic cube from his pocket and pushed a button on the side. When a green light began to flash, he slowly walked around both cars. The Sniffer, as it was called, beeped once near the front wheel well of each car.
Good, he thought. The GPS trackers he’d heard the detective Gelb say they’d put on the cars were still active, and now their signal was going to be sent to Fowler’s computer also. That would serve two purposes: It would make keeping track of their whereabouts much easier, and when the time came to corral them all and steal the formula for himself, he would know exactly when and where it could be done.
As he walked down the stairs of the parking garage, he pulled a notepad from his coat pocket and checked the address for Dr. Williams’s apartment. He would go there next, leaving the less-important college kid for last.
* * *
Kat got up early and pulled up Jackson Dillard’s website on her computer. Summoning up her courage, she dialed the number listed under CONTACT US.
After three rings, a gruff, gravelly whiskey-and-cigarette voice growled, “Yeah, Dillard.”
“Uh . . . Mr. Dillard, this is Kaitlyn Williams. I don’t know if you rem—”
The voice changed from gruff to happy. “Why, of course, I remember you, Kat. After all, your dad and I had some business in the good old days.”
Kat was astounded. Her dad had talked to her and told her some tales about Dillard. “You and Dad worked together?”
“Yeah,” he said, chuckling, “but I bet he never told you about it, did he?”
Unconsciously shaking her head even though he couldn’t see her, she answered, “No, but I’d love to hear about your . . . adventures.”
Now he laughed out loud. “And I’d love to tell you sometime, since the statute of limitations has probably run out on our . . . adventures, as you call ’em.”
Statute of limitations? Kat thought. What in the world could Dad have gotten mixed up in to rate worrying about legal limits on prosecution?
“But,” Dillard continued, “I’m sure you didn’t call me at this ungodly hour of the morning to talk about old times, so what can I do for you, Kat?” Suddenly his voice became more concerned. “Nothing has happened to your dad or mom, has it?”
“Oh no,” Kat replied. “They’re still retired up in Boston and doing fine.”
In a relieved voice, Dillard said, “Yeah, your dad said that after thirty years of the Houston heat, he couldn’t wait to get somewhere that had four seasons. He said Houston only had two seasons: summer and almost summer.”
Kat smiled, remembering her dad saying just that on many occasions.
“So,” Dillard continued, “what’s goin’ on that you need to call an old reprobate like me, Kat? Are you in some sort of trouble?”
“You could say that, Mr. Dillard.”
“Now, Kat, when we were kids you used to call me Jackie. Well, I’m a little long in the tooth for Jackie, but how about calling me Jack instead of Mr. Dillard?”
“Okay, Jack. I do need your help, if you are available.”
“I am always available for friends and relatives, Kat, and you are both. So, why don’t you tell me just what it is that you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in that you needed to call in the marines.”
Even though she was calling from a burner phone, Kat didn’t want to go into specifics over the airwaves. “Uh, I’d rather not talk about it on the phone, Jack. Is there any way you could come up here to Houston? I’d be glad to pay you for your time even if you decide there is nothing you can do for me.”
He chuckled again. “Kat, unless your circumstances have changed since the last time I talked to your dad about you, you can’t afford my rates. But let’s not talk about money—at least not yet. How about I fly my little plane on up to the big city and meet you about”—he hesitated as he checked his watch—“about two hours from now. I’ll be flying into the private air terminal at
Bush International. Do you think you can pick me up, or should I rent a car?”
“Oh no. I’ll pick you up. And Jack, thank you.”
“You got it, kid. I’ll see you in a couple.”
Kat hung up and immediately called Ramsey. “Hey, Burton. Jackson Dillard is going to fly up here from Galveston. I’m to meet him at the airport in two hours. Do you think you and Sheila could be ready to interview him by then?”
“Yeah, I think so, Kat. Sheila was able to get one of her on-call doctors to cover her practice for the next two weeks by telling them she was going on a vacation. As a matter of fact, we are just having breakfast in her apartment right now.”
“Good. Listen, there is an IHOP out on Highway 45 about a mile before the turnoff to the airport, and I think they have a private dining room that we can use. I’ll call Kevin and have him ready for you if you don’t mind picking him up on the way to the restaurant, and we’ll meet there in . . . say . . . two and a half hours.”
“Okay, Kat. Do you really think Dillard can help us?”
“If he can’t, Burton, then we are out of luck, because I can’t think of anyone else who will come to our rescue.”
A half hour later, Sheila and Burton got out of the elevator on the third floor of the parking garage. “Should we take the safe car?” Burton asked.
Sheila shook her head. “No, I don’t see why we should. After all, we’re not leaving town—and we are just going to meet some friends for breakfast. I don’t think that will raise any alarms if the detectives are monitoring our car’s movements.”
“Okie-dokie,” he replied and he opened the door to her Mercedes sedan for her, then got in the passenger seat.
* * *
From her parking space in the FBO (Fixed Base Operations) arrival area two hours later, Kat watched as a sleek twin-engine airplane came in for a smooth landing.
Ten minutes later, a man walked up to her car, a wide grin on his face. He was a shade under six feet tall, had iron-gray hair cut in a flattop and high and wide on the sides, was well-muscled with not an ounce of extra fat on his body, and had steel-gray eyes that matched his hair.
Dust to Dust Page 27
