Targeting the Telomeres, A Thriller

by R. N. Shapiro

  In the adjacent room, Liza and Amanda hear a loud thud, several unidentifiable noises, then crying. As the baby’s cries become more incessant, Liza taps on the door and whispers through the door, “What’s going on in there, why is he so upset?”

  “He probably wants to eat, but I can’t come out just yet. Give me a few minutes,” Ryan replies in the middle of typing his message.

  Birdie:

  You obviously aren’t taking us seriously. Whoever you need to contact inside your government or at the pharma company, you better do it now. In 30 minutes the kid’s going to lose another digit.

  He attaches the short video and hits the send button.

  Birdie stares at the message, wondering what the hell is going on. Then he clicks on the attachment. Horrified, he sees the tiny finger laying on a white towel, surrounded in blood, and the bandaged left hand of the baby, with tears under both eyes.

  Jang-Chung, aka Birdie, a high-ranking diplomat in the Chinese embassy in Washington, D.C., has been fastidious in concealing his double-dealing up to this moment. He places the fingers of each hand on his temples, thinking about how he acquired the information and acted on it. After running through many possible explanations he could give if he was ever suspected, he decides he must notify Ambassador Fong, the director of the MSS in Beijing, and the Chinese president. The thought of doing so while the summit is still underway makes him shudder, but he initiates the call.

  “I need to speak with the president. It concerns his grandson. We made contact with the kidnappers," he explains to MSS director Fong.

  "I'm outside the conference room. I will go in and ask the president if he can speak with you. What is the nature of the negotiations?"

  "They're refusing to return Bin Lai unless their demands are met. And they sent a video showing they severed one of his fingers."

  "What? The kidnappers are torturing him?"

  "It appears that way. As I said, I need to talk to the president."

  "Hold on, this may take a few minutes."

  Birdie waits. Finally, he hears the president’s familiar voice join in on the conversation. "I understand you have information about Bin Lai?"

  "Yes sir, this is Jang-Chung from the Embassy in Washington. We just received an email from the kidnappers with a short videotape. They severed your grandson's pinky finger and are demanding the return of Justin Michaels, the baby of American biological researcher, Ron Michaels. Do you know about the telomere research involving—”

  “The terrorists cut off one of his fingers?”

  “Unfortunately, it appears so. We can provide you the videotape—”

  “No, I could not bear to see it. Do we know where they are?”

  “We are trying to locate them, Mr. President, but efforts to trace the emails have not been successful yet.”

  “Do we have any information on the location of this Justin Michaels boy?"

  "The Chinese government was not involved in this kidnapping." Director Fong says.

  "That is true, Mr. President,” Jang-Chung interjects. “However, our intelligence agencies believe the pharmaceutical company, Lu Li Xi, continued its efforts to obtain telomere research information from the United States, which they promised to share with our citizens. Our sources indicate they may have seized this Justin Michaels boy right after he was born in Canada and are hiding him in China.”

  “We have a significant amount of control over this company. Contact the chairman of LuLiXi and order him to release this child if they have him. We extended them every government privilege and benefit, now it is time for them to do something for our government in return. Tell him the Chinese government will withdraw the company’s certificate to transact all business unless they give up the boy at once. How long will it take to get an answer, Mr. Fong?"

  "We can contact the company right now, Mr. President. How would you like us to communicate their response back to you?"

  “There is nothing more important than getting my grandson back. I would postpone these talks now if I didn't think the media would make a major story out of my failure to be present. My position is simple: if these kidnappers have harmed Bin Lai as you say they have, they are not to leave China. I want them—dead or alive. Do you understand?"

  "We understand, sir." Fong confirms.

  "Thank you. Report back when my grandson is in your possession, and the terrorists are captured or killed. That will be all.” The president hangs up.

  “I will send agents to see LuLiXi’s chairman right away,” Fong tells Jang-Chung.

  “Excellent. if I obtain any new information, I will contact you immediately.”

  After the call, Birdie opens his laptop and replies to Ryan.

  Friend:

  I conferred with our president. We will demand the return of Justin Michaels from those who may be holding him. Do not harm the president's grandson any further. I will send another email as soon as the details are worked out.

  -- Birdie

  Ryan reads the incoming message and a smile crosses his face. I knew they would see the light.

  Light but insistent knocking comes from the other side of the door, followed by Amanda's voice this time. "Open up! What the hell are you doing in there?"

  Sighing, he gets up and walks to the door. "Stop worrying, I'm getting results."

  “Results? Awesome, but I still want you to open this door.”

  “No can do, not yet.”

  Amanda knows how stubborn Ryan is, so she returns to the other room and sits down next to Liza. “He’s still refusing to open the door, but I don’t want to make a scene since there’s probably a hidden camera in the hall. What the hell did he do to the kid?"

  "He's playing hardball, I just don’t know how. It happens in situations like this."

  Chapter 110

  Higher Authorities

  It takes Jang-Chung 10 minutes to obtain the cell phone number for the chairman of LuLiXi, Hong Xi. More importantly, during this time, Jang-Chung coordinated the dispatch of two MSS security officials to Xi’s mansion in one of the country’s most exclusive neighborhoods. Unaware of what is transpiring, Xi is enjoying his afternoon by the saltwater swimming pool, which continues under a glass wall into his 15,000 square-foot residence.

  All real estate in China, including the chairman's mansion, is essentially controlled or leased in some fashion from the Chinese government. And that which is given can also be taken away.

  Two oversized SUVs hightail it down the long driveway to the mansion, where they are met by a security guard and a gate closer to the home. The lead agent flashes his credentials to the security guard while explaining they are with MSS and were dispatched by the Chinese president to meet with the chairman. The security guard radios his counterpart inside the residence. The gate swings open and the SUVs proceed down the drive and park in front of the home. As two agents exit the vehicles, a single agent remains with each SUV. The two lead agents walk up the massive steps to the main entrance, another guard stands near the entry door, and waves them through. Once inside, an aide ushers them into a small library full of dark wood, books lining an entire wall, and a conference table with eight cushioned chairs. The chairman enters the room from the other side.

  "This is most unusual. What is the nature of this visit?” the chairman inquires. The lead MSS agent answers.

  “MSS is well aware of the major exportation by LuLiXi of black-market opioids, which flood into the United States, but since the Chinese economy derives substantial income from your illicit activity, and the damaging effects of the sales do not affect Chinese citizens, your side business is countenanced.”

  The Chairman seems shocked by the blunt truth. But the lead agent is only getting started.

  "We are here on behalf of the president. He asked that we deliver a clear message to you. If your company does not produce Justin Michaels, the young American boy who was seized last year, he will withdraw your certificate of approval for all pharmaceutical business, including impo
rt and export. And the government may bring criminal charges as well.”

  The chairman’s complexion loses all color. "But our certificate was just renewed two months ago for the next calendar year."

  “And it can be withdrawn just as quickly. First of all, the President states, you must confirm this child is in your custody.”

  "Our company had nothing to do with any kidnapping—"

  One of the agents smashes his fist down on the table, disrupting several pieces of fine china displayed in its center.

  “Our instructions are to arrest you now, unless you assure us you will produce the child within two hours. Answer wisely, or you may never conduct business in this country again.”

  The chairman bows his head. “I can make a phone call.”

  "There is no time for any further lies. How long will it take you to produce Justin Michaels?”

  The chairman keeps his head bowed and stares down at the table for several seconds.

  "I need answers! Where is this child being held?"

  “Just outside Beijing," the chairman finally responds.

  "So, I can tell the president this boy will be available within the next 90 minutes?”

  “Yes.”

  "Let's start making some phone calls. As further incentive,” the MSS agent continues, “we know about the money you are leaving in foreign bank accounts. This could be a serious criminal violation, but we are not currently planning to pursue this matter.”

  The Chairman now looks more shocked than when he learned the government was aware of the kidnapping. “I will help. We are united, we are one.”

  “We appreciate those words. We believe you have contractors still in Beijing. We need to ensure they do not interfere with this operation.”

  “I will start calling now.”

  The operative offers his satellite phone to the chairman, who turns it down.

  “Not necessary, my security guard’s phone is secure.” Hong Xi motions for his security guard standing by just outside the door.

  Chapter 111

  Results

  Ryan flips through the current issue of a sports car enthusiast magazine Liza placed in his bag per his request. His plan is to buy something pictured in it with the proceeds from this mission. He stares longingly at the red Ferrari on one dog-eared page, then turns back a few pages to the black Maserati. Ferrari? Maserati? Such a hard decision. Then a chime sounds on the laptop.

  Friend:

  I made contact with the company holding Justin Michaels. They claim he is healthy and they are willing to turn him over in exchange for Bin Lai. We are prepared to do this in Beijing, in the rear parking lot of the Westin Beijing Chaoyang Hotel, Sanyuan Bridge Road. We would like this transfer to be in the next two hours.

  - - Birdie

  Ryan has no intention of allowing them to set the meeting place. He already cased his proposed location during his surveillance days before. And he holds an insurance policy he didn’t mention to Amanda or Liza. He types on the keyboard:

  Birdie:

  I can’t agree to that location. This is where we will meet: entrance to the Beijing Fenghuangling Nature Park, a few meters west of 6th W. Ring Road, near the red gate. No vehicles allowed, you must carry Justin Michaels or bring him in a stroller from the parking area. We will bring Bin Lai.

  The meeting time is two hours from the send time of this email. We will not show you the president’s grandson until we see Justin Michaels. Then we will make the trade, and you will provide us safe passage out of China. Confirm.

  - - Friend

  Ryan looks around the room, relieved that Bin Lai stopped crying and is sleeping peacefully. He wraps the finger back up in the bloody towel, puts it into a zippered-top plastic bag, seals it, and drops the bag into a small cold pack that he places inside the oversized duffel with his other supplies.

  The laptop chimes.

  Friend:

  Representatives will appear with Justin Michaels, look for men in green coats. You will not be followed from the area of the trade, however I provide no assurances on your safe exit from China.

  - - Birdie

  Good enough, Ryan decides. He walks over to the door, unlocks the bolt, and enters the room where Amanda and Liza are waiting.

  "We're going to be making the trade in two hours."

  “Unbelievable, you are a genius Ryan. How did you convince them to do it?" Amanda asks.

  "I'm a persuasive kind of guy."

  “What did you do?” Before he can answer, Amanda strides out into the hallway and opens the door to the next room. Her eyes are drawn to the white gauze oversized bandage covering the child's left hand with blood oozing from the area around the fingers. Ryan and Liza are not far behind her.

  "What the hell did you do?" Amanda now gingerly holds the child’s arm aloft to make her point, trying not to awaken him. “Tell me! What did you do?”

  "I had to give them one small reason to cooperate with us." He points his single pinky finger upwards toward the ceiling.

  "You chopped off one of that little kid's fingers?" Liza asks.

  "That's torture! I can’t believe you!” Amanda shrieks.

  "This is not a situation where we send polite requests ladies, where we ask them to return Justin Michaels please, with a cherry on top. Pointing artillery at ‘em was the only thing that got us results." Despite feeling he did the right thing, his response still comes out a little too loudly and sounds defensive.

  Both women avoid direct eye contact with the man who disgusts them at the moment, but deep down they realize what he did appears to have worked.

  "What's our next move?" Liza asks.

  “We're going to wait about an hour and a half before heading to the meeting point I selected. I'll confirm there is a car here for our use, then it’ll be show time."

  He finds the burner phone to contact Britt, not only about the vehicle but also about any additional logistical support, and powers on the facial recognition mobile device to check its function. Britt explains they can survey the area via satellite, and they will text him if anything suspicious occurs. A jamming device will be mounted on a rooftop with a view of the meet point, which will interfere with any radio waves the Chinese might try to use to detonate an explosive device during the exchange. Ryan provides her the wave bandwidth for a device he may be forced to use at the scene, should something not go as planned. She confirms the band, but purposely doesn’t mention several of the operatives from the embassy will be at the scene monitoring the activities.

  Britt confirms where she and an agent will be parked, two blocks from the Singapore embassy, how they will watch Ryan pass, and assuming everything looks fine, she will radio the Singapore embassy staff to have the gate opened for their arrival.

  Chapter 112

  Somalia Sunset

  A small Learjet touches down at the Mogadishu International Airport as the fiery orange ball of the sun hovers on the edge of the flat horizon to the west of the runway. Dr. Larsen is one of the first down the exit ramp from the small plane, followed by two others—one is carrying a refrigerated container housed in a silver exterior, the other a small duffel. One of the baggage handlers working for the United States government promptly gets their luggage settled into the black SUV. Within moments they clear customs through a special VIP station and the vehicle exits the rear side of the airport.

  The access road they are on leads to a secret U.S. military base a few hundred yards away, which houses the underground prison for high-value terrorists from the Middle East and Northern Africa. As the group gets out of the SUV, Dr. Albena walks down several steps from the medical clinic to greet them.

  "Great to see you again, Dr. Larsen."

  Larsen reaches out to shake his hand. "The pleasure is mine, good doctor. We have some valuable cargo in this container. Can you please direct my colleague to a refrigeration unit where it can be securely stored?"

  "Of course." Albena calls over one of his aides standing to the side of
the staircase and whispers something to him.

  "Follow me, sir, and I will show you where we can store those materials." The aide and Larsen's traveling companion walk away.

  Albena leads Larsen into the clinic to a conference room beside his office. After they are seated at the table, he asks his visitor about his travels. "It's a long trip, how was the flight?"

  "Actually, very peaceful, got a bit of sleep, which was nice. What's the prison census now, just roughly speaking?”

  "We've recently added fifteen ISIS terrorists seized in the Syrian theater, for a total of forty-three. I think over ten from Iraq, several from Afghanistan, a few from here in Somalia, and some other stragglers."

  "As we explained when we recruited you, your job here is to determine how quickly a telomere cell virus can cause what appears to be death from cancer. The virus is in the unit being put into refrigeration. Once you begin administering it, those infected must remain in solitary confinement to eliminate the risk of them contaminating anyone else, so they can be closely monitored.”

  “We want to start the test on a single subject, whichever inmate you feel is most deserving. Move him to solitary confinement and I will give you further instructions about how much of the virus to administer. Anyone who is anywhere near the virus must be completely protected—hazmat suit, self-contained breathing apparatus, all that."

  "I understand sir, and we plan to follow every biological safety protocol you've outlined."

  "I told Mr. Zukoff I would personally deliver these materials and have a look around your facility. Would you please show me your clinic and where you're going to be storing the virus?"

  "Yes sir, we’ve been looking forward to your visit, and we are eager to review the techniques and protocols with you. Right this way."