THE ALCATRAZ OPTION

by Jay Begler

  At the entrance to the enormous pharmaceutical library, a petite man named Lyle Morophsky greeted her. “Rebecca, as you can see by my name tag, I’m Lyle Morophsky, the head librarian. Those bright and eager young folks by their computers will be your research assistants. I’ll introduce you to them one by one later on.”

  Rebecca waived and said, “Hi everyone.”

  Morophsky said, “I’ll take you over to the amphitheater, everyone is waiting.”

  “The amphitheater?”

  “It’s attached to the back of this building. We use it for lectures.”

  Rebecca thought, “This place is full of surprises.”

  En route, Morophsky explained that his computers had highly sophisticated software which enabled users to do molecular modeling, structure-based drug design, structure-based virtual screening, ligand interaction and molecular dynamics. “Our software is the best money can buy.” He paused and smiled, “or in our case, that we can hack. Our research assistants also have access to libraries containing large numbers of molecules which we screen against multiple biological targets. We’ve also hacked into the trade secret files of about ten of the world’s major drug companies and the computers of their patent attorneys.”

  “Their patent attorneys?”

  “Sure. The Patent Office keeps patent applications secret for a period of time. So, that’s where we find some of the most up-to-date data.’’

  “I’m surprised that you need all of this for illegal drugs.”

  “No one told you? The Cartel owns Pantheon Pharmaceutical, the largest privately held pharmaceutical company in Mexico. It’s located in Leon several hundred miles from here. You should visit it sometime. It rivals the largest pharmaceutical companies in the United States. Last year, it had total legal sales of one and a half billion dollars with a net profit of about a billion. Our hacking operations save literally billions in research and development. Sometimes the drug companies are careless or slow and we manage to obtain patents based on their work. Then, we do them a favor and license our patents to them.” His demeanor when he said this was like someone who was describing an elaborate practical joke.

  “Our legitimate drug operations are not as profitable as our illegal drug operations, but still quite profitable. If you can fix your drug so it works in a large segment of the population, Pantheon will market it, but without the addictive element. I understand that your drug has the potential of generating between five and ten billion dollars a year, possibly a great deal more.”

  She realized that his projections were accurate and in sync with her own, and wondered where he got his information. Did he hack into her files?

  Within the amphitheater, Stannie, acting as a master of ceremonies, said, “Ladies and gentleman, a woman who needs no introduction, but because I like to talk, I have the pleasure of introducing our team leader, Rebecca Levy. Please, no applause.” He winked at her, “She had enough of that last night. Rebecca, I’m happy to present you with your own lab-coat which as you will see bears your name and barcode. “

  Rebecca addressed the group. “As you all know by now, my company’s drug, Clarity, is only effective in a small percentage of those taking it. I assume you’ve all read about the cases where the drug worked. One commentator said that the results were nothing short of miraculous and I believe that’s a valid assessment. Our challenge was to determine why it only worked in about three percent of the cases. Since we were a small company, we ultimately entered a joint venture with Actalmar Pharmaceutical. For those of you unfamiliar with this company, it is comprised of three merged pharmaceutical giants, Pfizer, Hoffmann-La Roche, a Swiss pharmaceutical company, and Boehringer Ingelheim, a large German company. Actalmar is regarded as one of the most sophisticated pharmaceutical companies in the world, and the very best in terms of research and development.”

  “My husband, Daniel, and I believed that if any company could meet the challenge of modifying our drug, it was Actalmar. It was very generous in terms of our deal. Actalmar would get exclusive rights for ten years to market Clarity worldwide and we would get twenty percent of its net profits after deducting its research and development costs. Patents on any improvements or modifications to Clarity would be jointly owned by both of our companies. Actalmar committed two billion dollars to the project. It worked on Clarity for two years, but nothing it did succeeded. Then, Actalmar worked on it for another year, and spent an additional billion dollars, even though it was not obligated to do so. At the end of the day, however, it was unsuccessful and, with apologies all around, it dropped the project. All of this is a preface to saying that despite all the talented people I see here and all of your resources and dedication, I think the six-month window given us is unrealistic. The testing alone could take up to a decade.

  Anthony Clarke rose to speak. “Rebecca, I just want to clarify one point on testing. In the real world, you’d be correct as to the time it would take to test any variation of Clarity properly, but we are operating in a parallel universe, the universe of the Aztec drug Cartel. Its testing protocol requires answers to two questions. Does the drug work? Does the drug kill the users in the short term, meaning immediately or soon after they took the drug? Their protocol to answer these questions is quite limited. First, believe it or not, they do animal testing. They give the new drugs to ten of the Cartel’s most vicious dogs. The men who tend to them call the dogs, ‘Escuadrón de la muerte’, the death squad. Hector’s men often take the dogs on trips when a conflict requiring physical intervention is necessary. The dogs are fearless and as vicious and unpredictable as they come. A single dog is highly dangerous, but as a pack they are terrifying. The dogs are so dangerous that they keep them in a separate fenced-in yard. And, they have no pack mentality; they hate each other and are always fighting. There were eleven until a few months ago, but one dog was not as strong or vicious as the others and they killed it. The men would love to get rid of the dogs, but Hector wants to keep them. So, if the molecule is toxic and the dogs die, except for Hector, no one really cares.”

  Rebecca interjected, “And if the drugs don’t kill these dogs, what next?”

  Clarke smiled and said, “We go to the Roach Motel.”

  “The what?”

  “The Roach Motel; that’s what they call a building set back two miles from here and surrounded by a tall brick wall. Roach is intended to imply the blunt end of a joint and the Motel to the old bug trap advertisement that touted that ‘Roaches check in, but they don’t check out!’ Occupants of the Roach Motel are prisoners in every sense of the word. Right now, the Motel has only one occupant, and he doesn’t seem to mind being there, since he can get drugs whenever he wants. Occupants of the motel are the guinea pigs who take the new drugs and, if they live, report back to Hector’s men. The Cartels feeds, clothes, and provides entertainment, liquor and occasionally sex partners to the tenants. The Cartel’s doctors examine the tenants at least once a month. That a tenant has an average life expectancy of only five years after entering the Roach Motel never seems to bother any of them. Their only obligation is to accept any drug offered to them and to never attempt to leave the motel’s grounds. Any tenant found outside the wall is killed on the spot without the chance for an explanation. No tenant ever failed to meet his obligations.”

  After they take each new drug, the tenants give their opinions on the quality of the highs produced. I understand, for example, that before we came here, the Cartel tested a new type of marijuana, which was significantly better than Acapulco Gold, a very potent strain of marijuana from Acapulco, Mexico. The residents take their jobs seriously and give full and objective critiques.”

  “You said there was only one occupant, what happened to the others?”

  “The Cartel developed an alternative form of Fentanyl, which was much more potent than anything in the market, legal or illegal. It had no effect on the dogs, but killed every tenant except Filthy John. That’s what they call him. I saw him once and, believe me, the name is a
ccurate. In any event, they scrapped the drug.”

  Rebecca said, “But that type of testing is meaningless.”

  “Granted, but that’s the way the Cartel wants to go about this. If we see any reaction that looks promising, the Cartel will test it on about two hundred people with Alzheimer’s as well as clinically depressed patients. The Cartel owns a bunch of nursing homes and psychiatric hospitals, so testing is quite easy.”

  She was shaking her head, “It sounds insane and unworkable. We are on a fool’s errand.”

  “True, but that’s the hand we’ve been dealt.”

  The meeting continued until late in the evening. By the end, Rebecca knew every route her team had taken to get her drub to work successfully in a wide segment of the population. All of their efforts were failures. Sensing that the team had worked long enough and feeling a degree of fatigue, she said, “OK, 8:30 tomorrow morning. Have a great night, everyone.”

  Rebecca was the last one to leave the building. Morales was waiting for her. “How’d it go today?”

  “Well, it’s a good news, bad news scenario. On the one hand, the group you assembled is very impressive. The bad news is that while I will work as hard as I can for you, since I gave you my word, I’m certain we won’t succeed.” Rebecca repeated the story about the failed efforts of Actalmar and concluded with, “So you can understand why I don’t believe we’ll be successful.”

  She could hear the resignation in his voice. “Well, just do the best you can. If you succeed, great; if not, I understand. Can I walk you home?”

  “Well, I have a companion to walk me home.” She blew on her dog whistle and out of nowhere Chip bolted towards them but instead of going to Rebecca, he went directly to Morales and in that way that dogs sometimes do when they are happy to see someone, whined.

  “You boys know each other?”

  “I’m his grandfather of sorts. My dog is his mother.”

  They walked towards the guest house and when they arrived, Rebecca commanded, “Home Chip.”

  Without hesitation he asked, “Would you like me to come up?”

  She knew what her answer meant and said in a whisper, “Yes.”

  Before they reached the door, they embraced and disrobed each other. Rebecca felt a surge of sexual excitement that she had never felt before. What she experienced was not only more intense than any of her prior sexual encounters, but different in kind. The eroticism of the moment totally absorbed her. He was no less excited than she. The world around them no longer existed; conscious thought no longer existed, replaced by sexual rapture. Neither had to think what to do next as they made love. They were perfectly in sync in their movements and actions, like two seasoned ballroom dancers.

  When Rebecca awoke the following morning, Morales was next to her. She wanted to wake him so they could make love once again, but she knew it was important to keep to her routine. She rose, dressed for running, and began her five-mile run. Rebecca blew on her dog whistle and within a few minutes, Chip was running beside her.

  “So, Chip, how was your night?”

  On the morning of the first weekend of her stay, she slept late, exhausted from long hours at work and nights of making love. Morales woke her early, ordered up juice, coffee and pastries and, after showering, walked to her bed, kissed her softly on her neck, provoking a slight smile, and whispered, “Time to get up. I have a little trip planned for us.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Horseback riding. I remember how much you liked it that summer.”

  “It’s amazing that you remember.”

  “There are very few things about you I don’t remember.”

  A half a mile down the road a large riding stable bisected the path upon which they were walking. There must have been fifteen stalls occupied by various types of horses.

  “The room at the far end of the stable is the woman’s locker room. It contains all the riding clothes that you will need.” Rebecca was not particularly happy about wearing another woman’s riding clothes, but when she entered the wood-paneled room, she saw a large locker with her name on a brass plate. The riding clothes and boots inside fit so well, that they could have been custom tailored.

  “I thought I’d start you on an American quarter horse. This one is Dancer, very sweet and very gentle, like you. We’ll just go down an easy trail so you two can get to know each other. There’s only one steep climb to the top of a mesa, and the view is quite beautiful. Dancer is very sure-footed, so it won’t be a problem for you. I thought you might enjoy going to the shooting range. The way you shot those two thugs was very impressive.

  “Practice makes perfect.”

  Before they started, Morales said, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Moments later he returned with a gift-wrapped package. “This is for you. My way of saying thanks.”

  Referring to their making love the night before, she said, “I thought you did that last night.”

  He handed her the package and saw the delight register in her eyes when she opened it.

  “It’s a Glock 33 Gen 8; especially made for women. And there is a clip-on holster,”

  She kissed him and said, “Thanks, I love it. I’m going to wear it wherever I go.” True to her word, she wore the holstered gun every day. It gave her a sense of being a bit of a dangerous lady. She thought to herself, “If only the women at the club could see me now” She then thought, “If only Daniel could see me now.” She found it interesting that she hadn’t thought of him for several days.

  Morales said, “That’s good. You never know when you’ll need it. We’re quite safe here, but sometimes that doesn’t hold true.”

  They began to ride. After a half hour they arrived at the top of the mesa. She had expected a barren plane. Instead, they came upon was a large and well-tended garden. A large Aspen style log cabin was situated at the end of the garden. When they dismounted, a young man appeared, said deferentially, “Good afternoon, Mr. Hector,” and took the horses.

  “This is my special place, Rebecca, and I hope it will be yours as well; one that I can share with you.” She held his arm as they entered the cabin. The interior was the kind featured in magazines like Architectural Digest. Rebecca, somewhat overwhelmed by the Ralph Lauren style furnishings, said, “I’m blown away.”

  “Good, I want you to be.”

  “We can stay the night if you wish. I can get a cook up here in a matter of minutes. Think about it, while I show you around.” Morales functioned as a tour guide, showing her each room, the magnificent kitchen, the large home theatre, and the bedrooms.

  “This room is yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “Truly. Your name is on the small plaque on the door and here is the key.” She lay on the bed, arms out and said, “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

  “As are you.” They kissed, began touching each other, slowly at first and then more quickly with more intensity and finally, undressing as quickly as they could, made love. When they finished, she said, “Let’s stay the night.”

  “Great, what would you like for dinner?”

  “This is crazy, but I’m really in the mood for Japanese food.”

  “Done.” He punched 23 into the phone and said, “Federico, call up Morimoto in Mexico City and order up the special banquet tasting menu for two. And have someone up here to serve around seven tonight.” He looked at Rebecca for approval and she nodded.

  When he hung up, she said smiling, “It’s good to be the king.”

  He replied, “I’m more like an emperor.”

  Twenty-Four

  •

  The Wisdom of Geezers

  The days at the Hacienda began to blend into each other and follow a pattern; full, but unproductive days at the lab, and nights with Morales. They dined with Isabella and Louisa often, both of whom she now liked. She found a kindred spirit in Isabella in their mutual love for Paris and in particular the Marais. Rebecca took mandatory dog training where she and Chip bonded more closely and she
learned to command him: sit, roll over, give me your paw, attack, and kill. She and Morales even played bridge with the poisoners. One day, as she entered the hacienda to meet Morales in his study, she heard the sound of a violin. When she entered, Morales had his violin in hand. “You still play?”

  “Yes; quite a bit. Playing relaxes me and helps clear my head. Do you still play the piano?”

  “Occasionally. I still take lessons, or used to before I became your guest. After the Event, I played continuously. I lost myself in the music. It probably was the only thing that kept me from going under.”

  He kissed her and then took her by the hand and said, “Come with me.” They entered the music room where they first met as teenagers. He directed her to a large grand piano. Pointing to sheet music on the piano rack, he said, “Try it. It’s not a duet, but I’ll accompany you.” Her playing was tentative at first, but as Rebecca continued, she played with greater confidence. Morales sensed when to accompany her. They played for two hours. When they finished, Rebecca said with elation, “That was fantastic. We need to do that a lot more.”

  Two days later Morales gave her sheet music for piano and violin duets. On an unusually rainy Sunday when they played for several hours, she said, “Do you know how strange this is? Here we are, a drug lord and a captive playing Mozart sonatas. When I first came here, I felt that this entire setting and way of life was insane. I don’t feel that way anymore. And I keep telling myself that I should feel guilty, particularly about Daniel and my daughters, but I don’t. Does that make me a sociopath?”

  He put his hand on her shoulder and stroked her hair. “No Rebecca. You are just a woman caught up in some unusual circumstances trying to make the best of it.” She agreed, but no longer thought she was trying to make the best of it. She was happy here. Amidst a hoard of killers, she had a sense of well-being. She realized that she was becoming, willingly so, one of the inmates of the asylum.