by Terry Morgan
CHAPTER 59
Kevin and Tunje Fayinka were lunching at a McDonalds in Finchley, north London. It was Saturday morning and it had been raining almost nonstop since Friday. Kevin was not in a good mood.
For one thing, Colin had now phoned him three times in two days to ask how he was getting on with contacting his MP and the other tasks he had been set at the meeting with Daniel and Larry Brown. But Kevin knew he had been doing badly and had had no confidence at the outset. Being a proponent of direct action because local politicians were a known waste of time, he had long abandoned existing systems and was no good at it.
And his recent experience was only hardening his opinion. The system of so-called surgeries for constituents to discuss matters with their MP seemed totally antiquated. It was hardly his fault if his Member of Parliament seemed to think that a constituent with a problem of trying to help her teenage son claim unemployment benefit warranted more attention than his need for advice on where to go and who to speak to about biological warfare.
So it had been a welcome distraction from Kevin's increasing frustration when Tunje phoned to say that he'd had an invitation to meet another Arab in London. But in immediately phoning Colin to report this, he now realised it must have sounded to Colin that it was he, Kevin, who was trying to take the credit.
Kevin had then met Tom Weston for a Friday night drink and only after an hour, as if it was an insignificant piece of news, had Tom announced that he had spoken to a member of the House of Lords, Lord Peterson, and fixed a meeting on Monday in London. Tom had assumed Kevin would not have a problem if he failed to turn up to deliver a lecture on Thomas Telford that he had been preparing for two days. It was a difficult decision but Thomas Telford lost.
So Kevin was in McDonalds in Finchley, it was grey and raining and Tunje was sat opposite him munching on a sesame bun that contained something brown, something yellow and something green. After this, he'd need to either go back to Bristol or hang around in London until Monday. Neither appealed. For now he was listening to Tunje's tale of his meeting with the man called Ramses El Khoury.
"Not a word, Kev. Just tell your new mates, OK? This is strictly conf OK"
"Conf, Tunj? Conf?"
"Confidential."
"Of course. Go on."
"Guess where I got to go, Kev?"
"Was it somewhere nice? The Zoo? Madame Tussauds?"
"Inter-Continental Hotel, Park Lane. He phoned me Wednesday. I met him in the lobby. He was definitely not Mohamed El Badry, Kev. This was a big bloke, six foot, all the genuine Arab gear, red and white spotted hanky the lot. Nice brown beads, gold rings, couldn't help notice the shiny shoes underneath. He said it was very private so would I mind a discussion in his room. Didn't see a twinkle in his eye so I accepted. Fifth floor. Big double bed. I thought aye aye, here we go but no, orange juice from the mini bar, sit in big soft sofa, thought I'd bloody suffocate. Then he gets out a brief case. Flips a bundle at me - looked like a few thousand but I didn't like to ask how much. I thought aye aye, here we go again but no, down to business. Want the gist, Kev?"
"Please," said Kevin.
"He'd heard good reports about me from Mr El Badry. We shook hands at that point. He laughed. Big man, big laugh. Was I still an active member of the Malthus Club? 'Course I was. Did I really want to do something that would make a difference? You bet. But what did I have to do? Oh, nothing much. Fly to Lagos on expenses. Fly to Abuja, then to Kano, then to Maiduguri, then to Port Harcourt. Meet up with people who would be expecting me. Hand over sealed boxes. Fly back to UK. Job done."
"That it?" asked Kevin.
"Yes, man. Simple. I was there twenty minutes, not even time to finish my orange juice. He got up, I got up, saw me to the lift and I was back out on Park Lane."
"So did you agree to do this, Tunj?"
"Yes. He gave me the bundle. It was five grand but I have to pay for my own air tickets. I'm now expecting an email with further instructions."
Kevin could hardly believe it. "So why didn't I get an invite, Tunj?"
"Just not got the style, Kev. And you aren't Nigerian."
"You think there are Nigerians out there who would do it for money?"
"Too right they would. And the chances of them understanding exactly what they're doing is limited. You don't know Nigeria, Kev, but people do anything for dash. And I reckon that's what these clowns are relying on. Just do the sums. A thousand quid to infect a thousand or more people. Then have a thousand doses of something claimed to cure it in stock selling at two pounds a dose - that's a hundred percent profit. And it could just be sugar and water, useless for all the people would know. It's got nothing to do with a proper system of population control that you and I believe in, Kev. This is bloody fraud. Fraud on a massive scale."
"So will you go to Nigeria?"
"Yes, but only if you and your mates think it'll help to catch these bastards."
For the first time ever, Kevin recognised a sense of serious concern in Tunje's tone. He seemed apprehensive, worried. What he said next proved it. "We all know it's a fucking mess and overcrowded there, Kev, but this isn't the way is it? My mother lives in Maiduguri."
Larry had tracked down New York Senator Mary Collis enough to know she was at a meeting in the Federal Mediation and Conciliation Service (FMCS) in Washington DC. She might be free to talk after four in the afternoon but he needed to be there waiting or she'd be gone again. Larry, not having slept or washed since leaving Lagos, checked in at the Quincy Hotel, showered, changed out of his jeans, tee shirt and sweater, put on a crumpled suit and shirt, fastened a tie around his neck and went straight to the FMCS office block.
At four fifteen, his name was called and he was escorted by a young woman to an office on the sixth floor. Larry, although a New Yorker, had never met Senator Mary Collis in person. He'd seen her on TV of course and had liked what he'd heard. And she was black, a lawyer and with similar roots to Larry's. Smartly dressed in a light grey suit and white blouse she was sat at a coffee table with two other men in dark suits. She rose. The two men did the same.
"OK gentlemen, let's take it from there," she said and held out her hand. "I'm back in New York tonight so just keep me in the loop and I'll do what I can. OK?"
Larry stood for a moment as the two men departed. The young woman who had brought him there, opened and then closed the door behind them and then stood alongside Larry. She smiled up at him.
"You're Doctor Brown?" Mary Collis asked. She walked towards him and glanced at something on an IPad in her hand. Larry spotted it and realised he'd need to grab her attention right from the start or he'd lose it. He held out his hand.
"Thank you for seeing me Senator." They shook hands.
"Take a seat. Colette here will listen in and take any notes., OK?"
Larry had been practicing his opening sentences for hours.
"I've just flown from Lagos, Nigeria, Senator. I believe that tests on a biological weapon have been carried out on a community of Moslems in the north of Nigeria. The tests were successful. The agent used was a virus similar to the Middle East Respiratory Virus but was artificially and deliberately created in a laboratory. There is no vaccine or drug immediately available to deal with it."
Larry stopped. Senator Collis raised an eyebrow.
"You're not suggesting that the USA is responsible are you?"
"No, Senator. A similar successful test was carried out in Thailand using the same artificially created virus and miniature, asthma-type inhalers as the delivery mechanism."
"So are you suggesting Thailand, of all places, is developing biological weapons."
"No, Senator. My belief, and I am not alone in this now, is that a group of privately owned companies one of them owned by a man already known to the FBI is behind a plot to deliberately spread the virus because they already have a treatment to sell."
Mary Collis sat back in her chair and looked first at Collette and then at Larry.
"You're a medical doctor,
right?" she said. Larry nodded. "Is this possible?"
"Too right it's possible, Senator," said Larry. "There are no tight controls on biotechnology that involves artificial creation of new viruses. It's called gain-of-function research - GOF for short - and it's perfectly legal and very common. Some say it's out of control. And in the wrong hands........" Larry stopped, allowing the Senator's imagination to start running.
"Mmm," she said after a pause. "So who runs checks on these companies?"
"As far as checking on what they are actually doing, no-one. And before you ask, Senator, I'm not talking about American companies. I'm talking about a motley group of small, Arab, African and Asian businesses that operate way below the normal radar. That being said the guy I mentioned is American."
"And this virus could be released in the USA or spread to the USA?"
"Of course, Senator, all ready to move." Larry knew this might be a slight exaggeration but if there was one sure way to get a politician to jump it was on the grounds of self protection.
"And no treatment? No vaccine right?"
"Correct, and you can add in a very high cross-infection rate and a very high mortality rate."
"So where might this motley group of Arab, African and Asian companies as you call them suddenly acquire such high technology?"
"Easy, Senator. Just tempt a few American or European scientists with money, give them a nice lab to work in and keep them in the dark about the real motives of the company that employs them. Scientists and technicians don't ask too many commercial questions - it's not in their DNA. "
"These sorts of guys exist out there?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
Larry wasn't sure he was ready for this. He was desperate to catch up with Daniel again. He ignored it and decided to throw in some more scenarios to move things in a different direction.
"Ask WHO - the World Health Organisation - if they have systems in place to monitor this sort of thing. They don't. Ask yourself what international checks are placed on this sort of research - there aren't any. Then throw in a huge pile of subversive politics, idealism and views on the need for governments to stop talking about the risks of war and talk about the risks of unchecked population growth instead .and you'll find you're into a whole new ball game."
"Are you saying this virus is also linked into a plan to kill millions just to reduce populations?"
"Yes I am, " said Larry. "Ask yourself. Other than two world wars what has been the most reliable way of reducing population? Answer - disease. Bubonic plague? Spanish flu? Malaria? HIV? They've all done their bit. They've achieved far more to wipe out millions than Hiroshima and twentieth century terrorism added together.
"Now add together a commercial organisation that is financed by a few rich guys with no ethics and out to make a fortune from first spreading a disease and then selling a vaccine or a treatment, with a couple of scientists who are world leaders in research on infectious diseases and viruses and who have also got a bee in their bonnets about the world being totally overpopulated to be any longer sustainable. Not only will these guys quote statistics about destruction of the environment and lack of resources but figures on economic migration, illegal immigration and mass unemployment to back it up. Their case is a good one and it may surprise politicians to know that their views are surprisingly popular. And you know what they're on record as saying, Senator? We've waited too damn long for politicians to face up to unsustainable population growth and provide a solution. We can't way any longer so we'll deal with it ourselves.
"And, Senator, they've already named their virus - 'Malthus A Respiratory Virus.' Have you heard of Thomas Malthus, Senator? Check him out and you'll find he was an English proponent of action to control population growth two hundred and fifty years ago. That's two and a half centuries too long to wait."
Larry knew Senator Collis had been staring at him throughout. Was he getting a message across or had she already concluded he was an idiot? Larry had no idea. He watched her get up from her chair and wander to the window. Collette had been listening with a serious look on her face throughout but no notes had been taken as far as Larry knew.
Mary Collis was still standing by the window looking down and spoke without turning around.
"What actual evidence have you got for all this, Doctor Brown?"
"I have been working with an English private investigator of corporate fraud, Senator. He was originally engaged by an American biotechnology company to look into the disappearance of some research material. The company has since lost a scientist - he's disappeared - vanished. Evidence suggests he has linked up with two other scientists that disappeared from a separate American company a year or so ago. All of them are virologists. One of the three also has extreme views on the need for population control. So is America implicated, Senator? Yes. Where is my private investigator colleague at present? Kenya. Where was he before that? Egypt. Where did he start off? Thailand. Where did we meet up? London."
Larry at last felt he was getting somewhere. He kept going on this track.
"Have I researched my facts? Yes. Have I spoken to WHO Geneva? Yes. Were they able to clarify procedures for controls on gain-of-function research to safeguard against dangerous viruses escaping into the community? No. Have I visited the place in northern Nigeria where the field tests were carried out resulting in over a hundred deaths? Yes. And have I been able to find out who I should talk to who would actually be in a position to do anything? No.
"I've drawn a fucking blank, Senator, because I can't get past the first person who picks up the phone whether it's in Homeland Security or the US Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases - USAMRID - the Federal Drug Administration or the Environmental Protection Agency who, by the way, wanted to know if I was talking about a virus that kills tomatoes.
"And have you looked at the Biological and Toxic Weapons Convention website recently? It's nearly two years out of date, there are no contact details for anyone and, if you don't already know, it is run from an office at Bradford University in England. Do you know where Bradford is?
"But that's why I'm here, Senator, and I'm hoping that you will listen to what I'm saying, believe what I'm telling you and then either do something yourself or point me in a direction that you think I should go."
Mary Collis walked back to her chair and sat down. Then she turned to Colette.
"Colette, please cancel the next appointment."
