by David Archer
Linden was quiet for a few seconds, and then he chuckled again. “Okay, I see your point,” he said. “I’m certainly willing to listen to what you’ve got to say. If you can honestly make this work with less risk, you may be the best thing to happen to us in a long time.”
“A long time?” Noah asked. This was exactly the kind of opening he was hoping to come across, but he needed to be careful how he played it. “If you guys have been at this for a long time, then I’m a little nervous. There’s a pretty good chance somebody has already spotted you, and I don’t want to be dragged down into something that could destroy my life.”
“Oh, relax, Rob,” Linden said. “We’ve been doing it for a couple of years, yes, but we’ve been extremely cautious. Believe me when I tell you there’s no possible way anyone could have any of our names, so nothing can come back on you. And from what you’re saying, you can help keep it that way.”
“There’s always a risk,” Noah said. “No matter how careful you are, there are things that can go wrong. There are plenty of ways to improve the odds, however. Maybe we should all sit down and talk about some ideas. Think you could get Mr. Conley to agree to that?”
Suddenly interested, Linden said, “I think I could. What have you got in mind?”
Noah sighed. “I’ll meet you at O’Brien’s office. We can talk about it then.” He ended the call and put the phone into his pocket as he drove the Charger toward the medical center.
It took him another ten minutes to get there, and then a few more to make his way down to the pathology department.
Linden was in the small inner office with Steve O’Brien, and Noah tapped on the door. Linden looked around and waved him inside and smiled when Noah walked in.
“Hey, Rob,” Linden said. “This is Steve O’Brien, the senior pathologist here. He and I handle the processing of our, um, products, you might say.”
Noah shook hands with O’Brien, then took a chair in front of his desk. “Good to meet you,” he said. “I was wondering how we actually get the organs to sell. I gather you can control that situation from down here?”
Linden nodded, a grin on his face. “He certainly can,” he said. “You know, when there is a fatality that comes in, it’s the pathology department that has to determine whether the organs are viable or not. When we’ve got good bids coming in, it’s a lot more lucrative for us to divert some of them our direction, you might say.”
Noah nodded. “That’s what I figured,” he said. “There has to be some source for the organs, and it’s not like we’re going to go out and kill somebody to get them, right?” He grinned, and the other two men chuckled along with him.
“No, of course not,” Linden said, and Noah caught the nervous glance between the two men. “That would be crazy. Listen, I called Conley. He wants to hear your idea right away, but he won’t be in his office for another couple of hours. You mind taking a ride with me? He says we can come on out to his place and talk, so nobody can overhear anything.”
Noah shrugged. “Fine with me,” he said. “I guess I can’t get in trouble for being late if I’m out with my boss, right?”
Still grinning, Linden said, “Hey, sounds to me like you got it figured out. Doctor O’Brien and I learned a long time ago that keeping Mr. Conley happy is the way to happiness and wealth, but it goes both ways. He can’t gripe at you for being out of your office if he’s the reason you’re out of the office, right?”
“Okay,” O’Brien said, “let’s go. I need to get back here within a couple of hours, I’ve got plenty of work today. I would imagine Mr. Townsend does, as well, so the sooner we get this out of the way, the better.”
“Agreed,” Linden said. He rose to his feet and O’Brien followed. The three of them walked out the door and headed toward the parking lot, where they got into Linden’s car.
“So, tell me,” he said as he put the car in gear and cruised onto the street, “how is it that you are so much more efficient than the last guy we had handling organ transport?”
“Am I? I suppose it’s because my last job was working with the company who invented the latest technology for safely transporting human organs. You know, until just recently, organs like hearts, kidneys and such were transported in picnic coolers and packed with ice. The problem with that is that the ice itself can do some damage to the cells of the organ, but it also can’t preserve it for more than just a very few hours. The maximum is about four hours, and even then, it’s possible the organ will have suffered enough cellular breakdown to keep it from being able to survive in a new host.”
“But now there’s a better way?” Linden asked.
Noah nodded. “Absolutely,” he said. “Current technology actually reconnects the organ to an artificial circulatory system, with a blood-like fluid that circulates oxygen and nutrients to the cells. The organ is basically kept alive until it’s ready for transplant, but even this method has its limitations. The organ still has to reach its destination within twelve hours, because that’s the maximum they can be kept healthy with this system.”
“Then how do we take advantage of that system for our purposes? Those people are probably entirely with the current powers that be in transplant, right?”
“Yes, and no,” Noah said. “There are several dozen smaller organ transport companies who have purchased life sustainment technology transport cases. A lot of them have spent small fortunes getting set up this way, but it’s kind of a gamble for them. Getting enough work to justify the investment isn’t easy, and some of them could be useful for what we’re talking about.”
“And you would know who to approach about that?” O’Brien asked.
“I think so. I know just about everyone in the business from my last job. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a couple of them who would be willing to overlook a few little details in return for cash.”
Linden was nodding. “Harold said you were the right guy to bring in,” he said. “Maybe he was right.”
Conley’s home turned out to be a short distance away, a large house that sat by itself at the end of a cul-de-sac. Linden pulled into the driveway and the three of them got out and walked up to the door. Linden rang the doorbell and a tall, elegant-looking lady opened it for them.
“Come on in, Barry,” the woman said. “Harold’s in his office, he said to tell you to just go on in when you got here.”
“Thanks, Wendy,” Linden said with a smile. “Wendy, you know Steve O’Brien. This is Robert Townsend, he works in Harold’s department at the center.”
She held out a hand and Noah shook with her. “Hello, Robert,” she said. “I’m Wendy, Harold’s wife.”
“Delighted,” Noah said.
The three men followed her down the hall, then stepped into the office when she opened the door for them. “Harold, they’re here,” she said. Harold was alone, sitting behind his desk, and looked up with a smile.
“Robert,” Conley said, rising enough to reach across and shake hands with each of them. “Barry tells me you’ve got some ideas he thinks we ought to listen to.”
Noah nodded, trying to look modest. “Well, sir, I’ve just been thinking about the things we talked about yesterday,” he said. “I’m just a little concerned with how things are being handled, especially with using conventional shippers. That comes with a lot of risks, and I thought maybe I could make some suggestions.”
Conley invited them all to sit down, then took his own chair. “Okay,” he said. “What is it that you got in mind?”
“Well, I was talking to Barry about using some smaller, independent companies to ship some of the product,” Noah said. “I have a lot of connections in the industry, and it seems to me that we want to get a relationship going with some that we can really trust. Does that make any sense?”
Conley nodded for Noah to go on. “I’m listening, keep going.”
“Maybe I’m just being overly cautious,” Noah continued, “but the last thing we want is for any of our shipments to draw the attention of p
eople who might figure out what is really going on. In order to avoid that, I think we need to establish relationships with companies that will handle things the way we want them to, which is quietly.”
“I’m assuming you have someone in mind?” Conley asked with a grin. “You’re absolutely right, we need to make sure this is done properly, but so that nothing traces back to us. As long as the organs get where they’re going in condition to be used, our customers are happy. Now, can you tell me more about who you want to use?”
Noah grinned and tried to look a little more confident. “There are several possibilities,” he said. “I’ll need a little time to check out the ones I think might be best suited, but I should be able to give you an answer within a couple of days.”
Conley narrowed his eyes. “That quickly? Really?”
“Yes, sir,” Noah said, “I’m sure I can. There are a number of smaller companies out there, and some of them are already pretty good at keeping secrets. For the kind of money they can make doing what we want, they’ll make sure nothing can come back our way. After all, it isn’t that hard to change the origin point on a shipping contract.”
Conley sat and looked at him for a long moment without saying anything, then suddenly sat forward. “Okay,” Conley said. “It makes a lot of sense, so let’s get started on it. The sooner you can make the arrangements, the better.”
SIX
The next few days were spent learning about the new system and trying to figure out who was actually involved in the organization. It was made clear from the beginning that Conley and Linden were only some sort of local management. Noah wanted to identify the people higher up, so he was cultivating his relationship with both of them.
The trick was to make sure the paperwork was all in order so that everything went where it was supposed to go, but without leaving a trail coming back to them. Over the next three days, there were five organs available for transport through the official channels, and three that required “special routing.” All of them had originated from traffic fatalities, so they provided no clues to where the victims were being held.
In the evenings, he and the team would talk over what they were learning, but it wasn’t much.
“Okay, so tell me,” Neil began. “You’ve actually been shipping, but everything traces back to the center?”
Noah shrugged. “It does at the moment,” he said. “Genetic markers, blood types, everything says that all of the organs came from the same two victims. If this is such a big operation, I would expect to be moving a lot more.”
Marco looked at him. “Okay, is it possible this is really a small operation, and it’s not connected to the one we were sent to look into? I mean, you hear about black-market organs going out of hospitals and such every now and then, could this be just a separate, small operation?”
“I suppose that’s possible, or it could be just that they are keeping me in the dark while they decide how far they can trust me.” Noah was quiet for a moment, then glanced at Neil. “What about the dark web? Are you finding anything that connects back to this area?”
“Not yet. I’ve just been watching some of the bidding, the activity. It’s actually pretty intense, intense enough that I would expect there to be a lot more shipments going out.”
“But you’re not seeing anything that leads you to Linden or Conley?”
Neil shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Of course, it’s not like they’re going to use their real names. The guy who runs the website is known simply as ‘Doctor Ghoulie,’ you know?”
“What kind of website is it?” Sarah asked suddenly. “I mean, is it just like eBay for body parts?”
“Well, in a way,” Neil said. “There’s an auction set up, where people can bid on certain organs, but there’s also a place to put in specific requests. You can list, for example, that you need a heart of a certain blood type, with certain parameters like age, gender, etc. There are a lot of other factors involved in transplants, and some of those can be listed along with the request.”
“So it’s more like a cross between eBay and Amazon,” Renée said. “You can buy what’s available or order something special. God, that’s horrible.”
“Yes, it is,” Noah said. “Neil, could you place an order?”
“I could post a request, yes,” Neil said. “What have you got in mind?”
Noah looked at Jenny. “How about a strong, healthy heart for a young woman matching Jenny.”
Neil frowned. “I can do that,” he said, “but there are probably dozens of candidates on the donor list. And speaking of that, I finally got into the main database for all the recruited donors. It’s run, believe it or not, by the National Institute of Health. Just about every doctor and hospital in the western hemisphere has access to it.”
“So somebody like Doctor Linden could scan it to look for a potential donor? Literally pick somebody?”
“Yes, that’s possible. It’s not unheard of to actually approach someone on the donor list if they come up as a possible match for a kidney transplant, which is why they keep names and contact information.”
“Is that actually successful?” Marco asked. “Calling up a perfect stranger and asking them to donate a kidney or something?”
Neil nodded. “Believe it or not, it often is. While it’s not legal to pay someone to donate an organ, there are some gray areas in the law that allow certain types of compensation. For instance, the organ procurement organization can offer to pay for the donor’s recovery time, since they’re going to be off work for a while. There’s no actual law that says that compensation can’t be pretty substantial. I found a few cases where somebody got as much as a hundred thousand dollars for recovery time compensation, even though they would’ve made less than three thousand dollars if they had been at work during that time.”
Renée shook her head. “If there’s a law against something, somebody will find a loophole so they can do it anyway.”
“Okay,” Noah said. “Neil, go ahead and put in the request. Make it as specific to Jenny as you possibly can, so that we have at least a small chance of having her get their attention. Jenny, if you start to notice anyone following you or anything like that, let us know instantly by subcom.”
“No problem, I will,” she said. “I’m keeping my Wi-Fi hotspot turned on in my phone all the time, now. That way I can reach you guys no matter where you are.”
Noah looked at her for a second. “That’s very smart,” he said. “We should all do the same anytime we are not in a normal Wi-Fi network.”
“Absolutely,” Marco said. “Just bear in mind, the hotspot does drain the battery faster.”
Jenny reached into her purse and pulled out a pink, oblong device with a USB port in one end. “Battery booster,” she said. “About ten bucks at Walmart. I charge it overnight, and it gives me enough battery power to get through the whole day, even with the hotspot on.”
Noah nodded. “We all need them, right away.”
“I’ll go fetch,” Renée said. “That’s kind of my job, anyway, right?”
Everyone but Noah chuckled, and Renée got up and walked out the door. With the Walmart Supercenter a mile away, the rest of them continued talking until she returned a half hour later.
“Okay, I got purple ones for me and Sarah and black ones for all you guys. That okay?”
“Absolutely,” Noah said. “Everybody be sure to charge them tonight and keep them with you at all times. The mobile hotspot means we can stay in touch no matter what.” He turned to Jenny. “If anybody makes a move on you, let us all know immediately. They would undoubtedly take your phone, but it might be close enough for you to continue using the hotspot for at least a little while. Tell us everything you can about your attackers, vehicles, anything that might help us track you during that time.”
“Also,” Neil said, “keep trying the subcoms. They automatically log on to any Wi-Fi, now, so there’s a good possibility you might end up within range of one. Even the place where
victims are held probably has a Wi-Fi network somewhere nearby, even if they don’t have one set up for whoever is running it. The subcoms have a pretty good range, so any Wi-Fi router within a quarter mile should be able to give you at least a faint signal.”
“That’s also good thinking,” Noah said. “And don’t forget, all of our cars have a Wi-Fi router built-in.”
“I know, I use mine all the time,” Neil said. “As soon as I get in the car, my subcom is on it automatically.”
“Same for all of us,” Marco said. “Makes sense, since it will be the strongest signal available. But he’s right, I’ve noticed mine trying to log on to different ones when I’m riding in the ambulance. You hear a little ‘tick-tick’ sound whenever it connects to a Wi-Fi router.”
“Right, I’m sure we all noticed that,” Noah said. “Jenny, bear in mind that if you are taken, you need to be as cooperative as you can at first. We don’t want them to drug you, so don’t put up a fight.”
“Well, not until they try to take me into an operating room. At that point, all freaking bets are off.”
“Of course, I understand that. In fact, if you are conscious when you arrive at the holding facility, do everything in your power not to let them drug you after that. That would be a disaster.”
“You think? You’re going for a heart, couldn’t you have asked for a kidney or something? At least that way, they might keep me alive a little while to sell the rest of my parts. If they go for a heart and actually get me into the operating room, I’m dead.”
Noah looked at her for a moment, then turned to Neil again. “She’s absolutely right,” he said. “Request a kidney instead.”
Neil rolled his eyes. “Okay, boss,” he said. “One short, blonde kidney, coming up.”
* * * * *
The next morning, Neil reported to Noah by subcom that the request had been placed overnight.
