by Steve Hadden
Neville wanted to attack the issue on the basis of scientific risks involved with something as complex as age reversal, but he couldn’t say that, considering that he’d stolen that information. “While I think that’s a good start, I was forced to come up with those on the fly. I think the issues of human safety and national security are the way to attack this. The moral aspect isn’t going to play well and is a double-edged sword. There’s the argument that says if you can stop a debilitating disease, isn’t that our moral obligation?”
Cain looked to Meyers. “Dr. Meyers, anything to add?”
“The CRISPR technology has advanced rapidly over the last six years. Covington and others can now safely and efficiently deliver CRISPR into the human body with specialized viral vectors. That was the basis of her evidence she used to convince various international organizations and what she presented to Congress three years ago. It’s gotten better since then. But the human genome is complex and we’re still refining the models on how one gene and the proteins it instructs the cell to make affect the rest of the genome. The models are very good, but not perfect.”
“With all due respect, I can’t use that to refute the technology.” Patton said.
Neville glanced at Charlotte, checking her pulse. She listened but remained unusually silent. She seemed angry and waiting for him to speak up. He thought of the last conversation with his mother before she died. He glared at Cain. “Covington is a criminal. She murdered her people. She’s polluting the human genome for eternity. The unforeseen consequences could end the human species. The risk may be lower, but it’s still there. Let’s not forget that just a few years ago, Congress had outlawed any heritable genetic modification to the human genome. And this killer convinced them to reverse their position. A poll from the Pew Research Center found that fifty percent of adults in the US opposed gene editing to reduce the risk of disease and forty-eight percent supported it. We can’t risk this tipping the balance of public opinion in her favor.” Neville knew the percentage of those supporting gene editing would skyrocket if they found out what Covington was working on.
The table remained silent as everyone looked to Charlotte. Neville hated that. They always looked to her to see if she agreed. She surveyed their faces. “It seems to me we might lose the scientific argument,” she said. “Gene editing in humans is here. It’s a tsunami.” She gave Neville a look of disappointment, just like his mother used to do. “We haven’t stopped it. If we think about our mission, it’s to protect and preserve the human germline. It’s possible that the technology advances enough that the public will think the right moral choice is to use it. That doesn’t mean they’re right. If or when that happens, I don’t know.
“What I do know is that the greatest leverage here is the ethics of its use. Who gets the treatments? The rich? The terminally ill? And who decides? What modifications will be allowed and who will police it? Are we going to take what God and the universe has taken eternity to create and turn it over to scientists and politicians? Are we ready to control our own evolution? Those are the unanswered questions that scare me. That’s how I’d position the issue.”
Charlotte eyed Neville when she stopped. He flushed every thought about what he was doing from his mind and thought about her party. She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. Neville smiled back.
“I think that’s a good angle that’s not being used,” Donna said, scribbling notes. “It’s also a much thornier issue.”
“I still think the national security issue needs to be mentioned,” Neville added. “This technology has been named as one of the six weapons of mass destruction threatening the world. We now may have had the first uncontrolled release of that weapon.”
“We’ll include our usual fact sheet and point to the rogue states or scientists that are a threat,” Cain said. “Anything else?”
“Let’s just be careful here,” Charlotte said. “This is being treated as domestic terrorism. Ms. Covington may be doing more to stop human trials than anything we can do. We don’t want to be part of or get pulled into this story.”
Neville kept his focus on Cain and shook his head. He needed to get out of there. Charlotte was righter than she knew. Neville didn’t want to be pulled into the story.
Cain closed his folio and stood.
Neville rose and headed to the door. Charlotte cut him off and smiled. “What’s going on?”
“Just something I’m working on. Don’t ruin the surprise.”
Charlotte took a beat, then said, “All right. I’m going back home to check on the kids and Sofia. Then I’ll be back.” She pecked him on the cheek. Neville did his best to smile and headed to his office. Max Wagner was waiting and followed Neville inside.
“Any word?”
“Yes.”
Neville looked up. “Well?”
“You won’t like it.”
“What is it?”
“She’s renegotiating.”
“What?”
Wagner flinched and looked to the office door. Neville realized his response had been too loud.
“She already has five million. She’ll get five on delivery.”
“She says she had a better offer and things have gotten more complicated.”
Neville clenched his fist. He absolutely needed the treatment under his control. He could end all genetic testing with one action once he had it. Without it, he was stuck with the watered-down talking points they’d just discussed. “How much?”
“One hundred million dollars.”
The bottom fell out of Neville’s soul. He couldn’t raise that kind of cash without Charlotte finding out.
CHAPTER 33
Kayla opened her eyes but didn’t move. It was as if her body were bound in cement. An unfamiliar T-shirt clung against her skin and she realized she was sleeping in sweatpants for the first time in her life. The bright yellow walls covered with pictures of seabirds drove her mind further into confusion. Then the warm comfort of a deep sleep drained into a cold, dark well in the pit of her stomach when she remembered the churning sea that took Harrison away from her.
She shed the covers and the stiffness, and wished it was all just a nightmare. Looking for the source of the bright sunshine to her right, she spotted the pile of soggy clothes on the bathroom floor. She tasted the salt still on her lips and knew she couldn’t escape the cruel reality that restricted every movement like quicksand. Harrison was dead.
She alone was responsible. She’d pressed on with her research claiming its righteous purpose and discounting other’s claims of its risks. That mindset had cost Harrison and Sergio their lives. It had cost the lives of her team. Now she was headed to seek the help of her daughter. But she had no idea if Emily would see things her way. She hadn’t in ten years. Kayla questioned whether it was worth risking Emily’s life by involving her. She’d already risked her son’s life and lost.
Kayla’s energy left her body, replaced by a leaden hopelessness. In less than seventy-two hours, it could all end with her, dying alone from her own discovery. Despite all her efforts, she hadn’t kept her work on the side of the angels. Instead, the dark side had come.
Tears clouded her vision. She turned back into bed, buried her face in the pillow, and wept for the first time since her son’s death, surrendering to the empty darkness pulling her in. It was as if she were being devoured by a massive wave from the night before. She lost track of time and released every ounce of sorrow and guilt she’d accumulated. Then that demon wave broke and her tide of tears retreated. She remembered the last time she’d visited her father and the fear and sadness in his eyes as he battled his tremors. RGR could save him and millions of others, she was sure of that. But her life’s work had been stolen and in the wrong hands could be transformed into a ghastly weapon. Realizing there was no one else who could stop them, one thought rushed into her head.
I won’t let this consume me this time.
The last time she’d faced devastation, self-doubt and guilt had c
onsumed her. She convinced herself she could sort things out this time—alone. She’d have decisions to make and she couldn’t do that crying into her pillow. She wedged her pain away with the firm determination building in her core.
After extracting herself from the covers, she stood and noticed the strength in her legs. At forty-eight, they should have been stiff and near useless after the ordeal she’d endured. But these were the legs of a much younger woman.
Entering the bathroom, she pulled her shoulders back, raised her chin, and examined her face in the mirror. Her skin looked refinished, as if someone had taken fine sandpaper and smoothed away every wrinkle. Her blazing green eyes glowed and her short black hair had a thickness and body she hadn’t seen since she lived in Washington. She washed her face, shaped her hair and turned to the closet. When she saw the selection of clothing, Sergio’s grinning face emerged in her mind’s eye.
Last night, Kayla had struggled to her feet on the beach and inventoried the contents of the dry bag tied to her waist. Sergio had anticipated her dilemma. He’d provided a map, an address and keys to the vacation rental his cousin owned, along with a few disposable phones, cash and a Glock like the one Harrison had used to instruct Kayla at the range. She followed the map through the deserted neighborhoods, pressing on against the wind and rain, until she reached the three-bedroom home around 3 a.m.
The rental had been fully stocked and two of the bedrooms contained clothing and toiletries. One for a man, one for a woman. On the kitchen counter was a key fob for a Chevy Trailblazer that Kayla had found in the attached garage. Kayla stopped and, for a moment, let the sadness in again. Sergio had saved her. He’d given his life to save hers. She promised his spirit she wouldn’t waste it.
With a deep breath, she purged the brief requiem and refocused on getting dressed. Despite how good she looked and felt, in less than three days, the process being replicated in her cells would go too far and end her life.
She moved into the kitchen and made coffee and toast and sat at the kitchen table. Her options were limited. Turning herself in to the FBI was an option, but it was committing suicide. Even if they listened to her, they couldn’t provide the antidote containing the myriad of viral vectors and their very specific genetic instructions that she needed to live. She refused to do that to her father.
The other option was to go on the offensive alone. Find a way to reach her daughter undetected and hope that her countless letters got through. They contained detailed notes on her progress, including the process for creating the treatments. Secretly, she’d even sent a drive with the computer code necessary to make them. While she didn’t receive any response, she thought the information would help advance Emily’s career. But there was one big problem: she couldn’t involve her daughter directly. Everyone she’d pulled into this was dead.
Somewhere out there, an assassin, clearly female, who had better information than the feds was looking for her. That person had taken her discovery and wanted to kill her. But now, after the events at Sergio’s facility, she wasn’t so sure the killer wanted her dead. Ironically, that woman could still possess the key to her survival. She reached for the dry bag and pulled out the Glock, its holster and one of the magazines. As she examined the gun, she toyed with the idea of going after the killer but quickly decided that would not end well for her.
Kayla reached into the bag again and pulled out one of the burner phones. It was an LG model with Internet access. As she examined the phone, a third option emerged. The reporter from the San Diego paper was focused on the truth. Getting Kayla’s side of the story through a credible media outlet would neutralize the FBI’s campaign against her. And once the public knew exactly what Kayla was working on, maybe public sentiment would be on her side.
One problem remained. The assassin. A newspaper article wouldn’t stop her. The assassin wanted Kayla’s technology. That was clear. But she also wanted Kayla. Kayla could think of two reasons.
First, the assassin wanted exclusive rights to the technology, and for that to happen, she had to control or kill Kayla. For a moment, Kayla’s hope blossomed when she realized there was an outcome in such a scenario where she survived.
The second reason sent a shiver through her spine. This was revenge. Someone wanted to destroy Kayla. Destroy her work and kill her. That option implied that there was no negotiation and only one outcome that would satisfy her adversary.
Taking the phone in her hand, she accessed its browser and immediately downloaded an app to access The Onion Router. She knew it would mask her location and she’d be able to anonymously access sites. Then she went to the San Diego Union-Tribune page and found the latest article by Sienna Fuller, which she and Harrison had read yesterday.
After reading the article again, she decided to trust her instincts. She found the contact number for the paper, stored it in the phone and shoved the device into her pocket. She hoped the FBI would not tap the paper’s phone line. Even if they did, she’d be gone by the time they arrived. She finished her coffee, shoved the magazine into the Glock, pulled the slide and put one round in the chamber. She stood and decided she’d go it alone. She slipped the Glock into its holster, attached it to her belt and headed toward the bedroom to pack.
She stopped when she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching the front of the house. At first, she didn’t want to believe her ears. But the sound of someone working the front doorknob made her turn and aim the Glock at the door. They’d found her—and this time she was alone.
CHAPTER 34
Kayla exhaled, widened her stance, and steadied her aim at the door. The clarity of righteousness and duty steadied her trembling hands. The evil on the other side of the door had taken the lives of those close to Kayla, and that piece of shit had killed her last victim. She dropped her finger onto the trigger and prepared to fire. Once the monster had broken through the door it would be too late. She wasn’t sure the slugs could penetrate the door, but she had no choice.
As she braced for the recoil, she heard a key enter the lock and she hesitated. The assassin wouldn’t have a key unless she’d located Sergio’s cousin whose married name wasn’t Martinez. Sergio had assured them they’d never make the connection. Still, she’d been surprised at every turn. Some primitive instinct made her relax her trigger finger and wait for the door to open. The doorknob turned and Kayla’s breath stopped.
The door opened slightly.
“Kayla?” The word was weak and barely perceptible, but the speaker was unmistakable.
Kayla holstered her Glock and ran to the door. With her heart soaring, she pulled it open and Harrison fell into her arms. He was wet and cold and she took on his full weight. Ducking under his arm, she guided him into the hallway and kicked the door shut. She walked him into the family room and laid him gently on the sofa. His skin was pale and his limbs shivered. His deep brown eyes were glazed, and he said nothing.
Running into the bedroom, she ripped the blanket from the bed and pulled a towel from the rack in the bathroom. After untying the dry bag from his waist and stripping off his wet clothes, she dried him and wrapped him in the thick blanket. She retrieved a cup of coffee from the kitchen, propped his head with her hand and put the cup to his lips. She could barely control her smile when he took a sip. A warm light returned to her heart. She rubbed his arms through the blanket. “You’re okay now,” she said. “I’m here.”
Harrison stared back, as if in disbelief that he’d made it.
She kept rubbing his arms and legs and the shivering stopped.
Harrison searched Kayla’s face with his eyes. “He’s gone. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Kayla could see the shock and loss in Harrison’s expression. “I know. I’m sorry.” There was nothing else to say.
Harrison looked around the beach house. “Serge saved us.”
Kayla scanned the inside of the house, then turned back to Harrison. “Yes, he did. And he has a way out for us. You okay?”
Harrison no
dded.
Kayla kissed him on the forehead and went into the bedroom to retrieve some clothes. She left them stacked neatly on the coffee table and went into the kitchen to pack food. Minutes later, Harrison joined her dressed in jeans, T-shirt and a hooded sweatshirt.
“It’s still working,” he said.
“It is,” she said as she stuffed a few more power bars into her dry bag. “I’m stronger, have more energy and recover much more quickly than I did even ten years ago.” Kayla wondered if Harrison was thinking whether it was worth Sergio’s life.
“I thought I lost you. I tried to pull Serge free in the darkness, but I couldn’t. He shoved me away, toward the surface. When I came up, I called and called for you.”
“I did the same. But I guess the storm was too strong.” She turned and faced him. “I thought I lost you, too.”
Harrison stepped in and wrapped her in his arms. For the first time in forever, she let go and relaxed. He still looked weak, but he held her tight. “Let’s agree we’ll never let each other go again.”
She raised her head and locked her eyes on his, then hugged him hard, as if she never wanted it to end. It felt the same as the first time he’d touched her and ignited a passion she couldn’t control. She saw the man for whom she’d been waiting for most of her life. Harrison’s smile, his loving gaze, his passionate embrace said he wanted her too. She cradled his face in her palms. As he bent down, she lifted herself on her toes and kissed him. His lips were salty, but warm and soft. “Never again,” she said. Her body pulsating with the sexual tension she’d denied until now, she took his hand and led him into her bedroom.
CHAPTER 35
Kayla looked back at the bedroom door and reveled in the warm afterglow of making love with Harrison. He was still a strong but gentle lover, but they shared something she hadn’t felt before. She’d finally surrendered to commitment, and despite the gravity of her current situation, her heart fluttered. She turned back to packing the dry bags and waited for Harrison to join her.
