Chromosome 6

CHAPTER 21

MARCH 9, 1997

4:30 A.M.

BATA, EQUATORIAL GUINEA

JACK awakened at four-thirty and was unable to get back to sleep. Ironically, the racket made by tree frogs and crickets in the courtyard banana trees was too much even for someone fully adjusted to the noisy sirens and general din of New York City.

Taking his towel and his soap, Jack stepped out on the veranda and started for the shower. Midway, he bumped into Laurie on her way back.

“What are you doing up?” Jack asked. It was still pitch dark outside.

“We went to bed around eight,” Laurie said. “Eight hours: that’s a reasonable night’s sleep for me.”

“You’re right,” Jack said. He’d forgotten how early it was when they’d all collapsed.

“I’ll go down into the kitchen area and see if I can find any coffee,” Laurie said.

“I’ll be right down,” Jack said.

By the time Jack got downstairs to the dining room, he was surprised to find the rest of his group already having breakfast. Jack got a cup of coffee and some bread and sat down between Warren and Esteban.

“Arturo mentioned to me that he thought you were crazy to go to Cogo without an invitation,” Esteban said.

With his mouth full, all Jack could do was nod.

“He told me you won’t get in,” Esteban said.

“We’ll see,” Jack said after swallowing. “I’ve come this far, so I’m not going to turn back without making an effort.”

“At least the road is good, thanks to GenSys,” Esteban said.

“Worst case, we’ve had an interesting drive,” Jack said.

An hour later, everyone met again in the dining room. Jack reminded the others that going to Cogo wasn’t a command performance, and that those people who preferred to stay in Bata should do so. He said that he’d been told it might take four hours each way.

“You think you can make out on your own?” Esteban asked.

“Absolutely,” Jack said. “It’s not as if we’ll be getting lost. The map indicates only one main road heading south. Even I can handle that.”

“Then I think I’ll stay,” Esteban said. “I have more family I’d like to see.”

By the time they were on the road with Warren in the front passenger seat and the two women in the middle seat, the eastern sky was just beginning to show a faint glow of dawn. As they drove south they were shocked at how many people were walking along the road on their way into the city. There were mostly women and children and most of the women were carrying large bundles on their heads.

“They don’t seem to have much, but they appear happy,” Warren commented. Many of the children stopped to wave at the passing van. Warren waved back.

The outskirts of Bata dragged by. The cement buildings eventually changed to simple whitewashed mud brick structures with thatched roofs. Reed mats formed corrals for goats.

Once completely out of Bata, they began to see stretches of incredibly lush jungle.

Traffic was almost nonexistent save for occasional large trucks going in the opposite direction. As the trucks went by, the wind jostled the van.

“Man, those truckers move,” Warren commented.

Fifteen miles south of Bata, Warren got out the map. There was one fork and one turn in the road that they had to navigate appropriately or lose considerable time. Signs were almost nonexistent.

When the sun came up, they all donned their sunglasses. The scenery became monotonous, uninterrupted jungle except for occasional tiny clusters of thatched huts. Almost two hours after they’d left Bata, they turned onto the road that led to Cogo.

“This is a much better road,” Warren commented as Jack accelerated up to cruising speed.

“It looks new,” Jack said. The previous road had been reasonably smooth, although its surface appeared like a patchwork quilt from all the separate repairs.

They were now heading southeast away from the coast and into considerably denser jungle. They also began to climb. In the distance they could see low, jungle-covered mountains.

Seemingly out of nowhere came a violent thunderstorm. Just prior to its arrival the sky became a swirling mass of dark clouds. Day turned to night in the space of several minutes. Once the rain started, it came down in sheets, and the van’s old, ragged windshield wipers could not keep up with the downpour. Jack had to slow to less than twenty miles an hour.

Fifteen minutes later, the sun poked out between massive clouds, turning the road into a ribbon of rising steam. On a straight stretch, a group of baboons crossing the road looked as if they were walking on a cloud.

After passing through the mountains, the road turned back to the southeast. Warren consulted the map and told everyone they were within twenty miles of their destination.

Rounding another turn, they all saw what looked like a white building in the middle of the road.

“What the hell’s this?” Warren said. “We’re not there yet, no way.”

“I think it’s a gate,” Jack said. “I was told about this only last night. Keep your fingers crossed. We might have to switch to plan B.”

As they got closer, they could see that on either side of the central structure were enormous white, lattice-work fences. They were on a roller mechanism so they could be drawn out of the way to permit vehicles to pass.

Jack braked and brought the van to a stop about twenty feet from the fence. Out of the two-story gate house stepped three soldiers dressed similarly to those who’d been guarding the private jet at the airport. Like the soldiers at the airport, these men were carrying assault rifles, only these men were holding their guns waist high, aimed at the van.

“I don’t like this,” Warren said. “These guys look like kids.”

“Stay cool,” Jack said. He rolled his window down. “Hi, guys. Nice day, huh?”

The soldiers didn’t move. Their blank expressions didn’t change.

Jack was about to ask them kindly to open the gate, when a fourth man stepped out into the sunlight. To Jack’s surprise, this man was pulling on a black suit jacket over a white shirt and tie. In the middle of the steaming jungle it was absurd. The other surprising thing was that the man wasn’t black. He was Arab.

“Can I help you?” the Arab asked. His tone was not friendly.

“I hope so,” Jack said. “We’re here to visit Cogo.”

The Arab glanced at the windshield of the vehicle, presumably looking for some identification. Not seeing it, he asked Jack if he had a pass.

“No pass,” Jack admitted. “We’re just a couple of doctors interested in the work that’s going on here.”

“What is your name?” the Arab asked.

“Dr. Jack Stapleton. I’ve come all the way from New York City.”

“Just a minute,” the Arab said before disappearing back into the gate house.

“This doesn’t look good,” Jack said to Warren out of the corner of his mouth. He smiled at the soldiers. “How much should I offer him? I’m not good at this bribing stuff.”

“Money must mean a lot more here than it does in New York,” Warren said. “Why don’t you overwhelm him with a hundred dollars. I mean, if it’s worth it to you.”

Jack mentally converted a hundred dollars into French francs, then extracted the bills from his money belt. A few minutes later, the Arab returned.

“The manager says that he does not know you and that you are not welcome,” the Arab said.

“Shucks,” Jack said. Then he extended his left hand with the French francs casually stuck between his index finger and his ring finger. “We sure do appreciate your help.”

The Arab eyed the money for a moment before reaching out and taking it. It disappeared into his pocket in the blink of an eye.

Jack stared at him for a moment, but the man didn’t move. Jack found it difficult to read his expression because the man’s mustache obscured his mouth.

Jack turned to Warren. “Didn’t I give him enough?”

Warren shook his head. “I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“You mean he just took my money and that’s that?” Jack asked.

“Be my guess,” Warren said.

Jack turned his attention back to the man in the black suit. Jack estimated he was about a hundred and fifty pounds, definitely on the thin side. For a moment Jack entertained the idea of getting out of the car and asking for his money back, but a glance at the soldiers made him think otherwise.

With a sigh of resignation Jack did a three-point turn and headed back the way they’d come.

“Phew!” Laurie said from the backseat. “I did not like that one bit.”

“You didn’t like it?” Jack questioned. “Now I’m pissed.”

“What’s plan B?” Warren asked.

Jack explained about his idea of approaching Cogo by boat from Acalayong. He had Warren look at the map. Given how long it had taken them to get where they were, he asked Warren to estimate how long it would take to get to Acalayong.

“I’d say three hours,” Warren said. “As long as the road stays good. The problem is we have to backtrack quite a way before heading south.”

Jack glanced at his watch. It was almost nine a.m. “That means we’d get there about noon. I’d judged we could get from Acalayong to Cogo in an hour, even in the world’s slowest boat. Say we stay in Cogo for a couple hours. I think we’d still get back at a reasonable hour. What do you guys say?”

“I’m cool,” Warren said.

Jack looked in the rearview mirror. “I could take you ladies back to Bata and come back tomorrow.”

“My only reservation about any of us going is those soldiers with the assault rifles,” Laurie said.

“I don’t think that’s a problem,” Jack said. “If they have soldiers at the gate then they don’t need them in the town. Of course there’s always the chance they patrol the waterfront, which would mean I’d be forced to use plan C.”

“What’s plan C?” Warren asked.

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “I haven’t come up with it yet.”

“What about you, Natalie?” Jack asked.

“I’m finding it all interesting,” Natalie said. “I’ll go along with the crowd.”

It took almost an hour to get to the point where a decision had to be made. Jack pulled to the side of the road.

“What’s it going to be, gang?” he asked. He wanted to be absolutely sure. “Back to Bata or on to Acalayong?”

“I think I’ll be more worried if you go by yourself,” Laurie said. “Count me in.”

“Natalie?” Jack said. “Don’t be influenced by these other crazies. What do you want to do?”

“I’ll go,” Natalie said.

“Okay,” Jack said. He put the car in gear and turned left toward Acalayong.

Siegfried got up from his desk with his coffee mug in hand and walked to the window overlooking the square. He was mystified. The Cogo operation had been up and running for six years and never had they had someone come to the gate house and request entrance. Equatorial Guinea was not a place people visited casually.

Siegfried took a swig of his coffee and wondered if there could be any connection between this abnormal event and the arrival of Taylor Cabot, the CEO of GenSys. Both were unanticipated, and both were particularly unwelcome since they came just when there was a major problem with the bonobo project. Until that unfortunate situation was taken care of, Siegfried didn’t want any stray people around, and he put the CEO in that category.

Aurielo poked his head in the door and said that Dr. Raymond Lyons was there and wished to see him.

Siegfried rolled his eyes. He didn’t want Raymond around, either. “Send him in,” Siegfried said reluctantly.

Raymond came into the room, looking as tanned and healthy as ever. Siegfried envied the man’s aristocratic appearance, and the fact that he had two good arms.

“Have you located Kevin Marshall yet?” Raymond demanded.

“No, we haven’t,” Siegfried said. He took immediate offense at Raymond’s tone.

“I understand it’s been forty-eight hours since he’s been seen,” Raymond said. “I want him found!”

“Sit down, Doctor!” Siegfried said sharply.

Raymond hesitated. He didn’t know whether to get angry or be intimidated by the manager’s sudden aggressiveness.

“I said sit!” Siegfried said.

Raymond sat. The white hunter with his horrid scar and limp arm could be imposing, particularly surrounded by evidence of his extensive kills.

“Let us clear up a point involving the chain of command,” Siegfried said. “I do not take orders from you. In fact, when you are here as a guest, you take orders from me. Is that understood?”

Raymond opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. He knew Siegfried was technically correct.

“And while we are talking so directly,” Siegfried added, “where is my retrieval bonus? In the past, I’ve always gotten it when the patient left the Zone on his way back to the States.”

“That’s true,” Raymond said tautly. “But there have been major expenses. Money is coming in shortly from new clients. You’ll be paid as soon as it comes in.”

“I don’t want you to think you can give me the runaround,” Siegfried warned.

“Of course not,” Raymond blurted out.

“And one other thing,” Siegfried said. “Isn’t there some way you can hasten the CEO’s departure? His presence here in Cogo is disrupting. Can’t you use the patient’s needs in some way?”

“I don’t see how,” Raymond said. “He’s been informed the patient is capable of traveling. What more can I say?”

“Think of something,” Siegfried said.

“I’ll try,” Raymond said. “Meanwhile, please locate Kevin Marshall. His disappearance concerns me. I’m afraid he might do something rash.”

“We believe he went to Cocobeach in Gabon,” Siegfried said. He was gratified with the appropriate subservience in Raymond’s voice.

“You’re sure he didn’t go to the island?” Raymond asked.

“We can’t be totally sure,” Siegfried admitted. “But we don’t think so. Even if he did, he wouldn’t be apt to stay there. He would have been back by now. It’s been forty-eight hours.”

Raymond stood up and sighed. “I wish he would turn up. Worrying about him is driving me up the wall, especially with Taylor Cabot here. It’s just something else in a long string of problems going on in New York that have threatened the program and made my life miserable.”

“We’ll continue to search,” Siegfried assured him. He tried to sound sympathetic, but in actuality, he was wondering how Raymond was going to respond when he heard the bonobos were being rounded up to be brought into the animal center. All other problems paled in the face of the animals killing each other.

“I’ll try to think of something to say to Taylor Cabot,” Raymond said as he started for the door. “If you could, I’d appreciate being informed the moment you hear about Kevin Marshall.”

“Certainly,” Siegfried said obligingly. He watched with satisfaction as the previously proud doctor beat a meek retreat. Just as Raymond disappeared from view, Siegfried remembered that Raymond was from New York.

Siegfried dashed to his door, catching Raymond on his way down the stairs.

“Doctor,” Siegfried called out with false deference.

Raymond paused and looked back.

“Do you happen to know a doctor by the name of Jack Stapleton?”

The blood drained from Raymond’s face.

This reaction was not lost on Siegfried. “I think you’d better come back into my office,” the manager said.

Siegfried closed the door behind Raymond who immediately wanted to know how in the world the name “Jack Stapleton” had come up.

Siegfried walked around his desk and sat down. He gestured toward a chair for Raymond. Siegfried was not happy. He’d briefly thought of relating the unexpected request for a site visit by strange doctors to Taylor Cabot. He’d not thought of relating it to Raymond.

“Just before you arrived I got an unusual call from our gate house,” Siegfried said. “The Moroccan guard told me that there was a van full of people who wanted to tour the facility. We’ve never had uninvited visitors before. The van was driven by Dr. Jack Stapleton of New York City.”

Raymond wiped the perspiration that had appeared on his forehead. Then he ran both hands simultaneously through his hair. He kept telling himself that this couldn’t be happening since Vinnie Dominick was supposed to have taken care of Jack Stapleton and Laurie Montgomery. Raymond hadn’t called to find out what had happened to the two; he didn’t really want to know the details. For twenty thousand dollars, details weren’t something he should have to worry about-or so he thought. If pressed, he would have guessed that Stapleton and Montgomery were somewhere floating in the Atlantic Ocean about now.

“Your reaction to this is starting to concern me,” Siegfried said.

“You didn’t let Stapleton and his friends in?” Raymond asked.

“No, of course not,” Siegfried said.

“Maybe you should have,” Raymond said. “Then we could have dealt with them. Jack Stapleton is a very big danger to the program. I mean, is there a way here in the Zone to take care of such people?”

“There is,” Siegfried said. “We just turn them over to the Equatoguinean minister of justice or the minister of defense along with a sizable bonus. Punishment is both discreet and very rapid. The government is eager to ensure that nothing threatens the goose that lays the golden egg. All we need to say is that they are seriously interfering with GenSys operations.”

“Then if they come back, I think you should let them in,” Raymond said.

“Perhaps you should tell me why,” Siegfried said.

“Do you remember Carlo Franconi?” Raymond asked.

“Carlo Franconi the patient?” Siegfried asked.

Raymond nodded.

“Of course,” Siegfried said.

“Well, it started with him,” Raymond said as he began the complicated story.

“You think it is safe?” Laurie asked. She was looking at a huge hollowed-out log canoe with a thatched canopy that was pulled halfway up the beach. On the back was a sizable, beat-up outboard motor. It was leaking fuel as evidenced by an opalescent scum that ringed the stern.

“Reportedly it goes all the way to Gabon twice a day,” Jack said. “That’s farther than Cogo.”

“How much rent did you have to pay?” Natalie asked. It had taken Jack a half hour of negotiations to get it.

“A bit more than I expected,” Jack said. “Apparently, some people rented one a couple of days ago, and it hasn’t been seen since. That episode has driven the rental price up, I’m afraid.”

“More than a hundred or less?” Warren asked. He, too, wasn’t impressed with the craft’s apparent seaworthiness. “Because if it was more than a C note you got took.”

“Well, let’s not quibble,” Jack said. “In fact, let’s get the show on the road unless you guys want to back out.”

There was a moment of silence while the group eyed each other.

“I’m not a great swimmer,” Warren admitted.

“I can assure you that we are not planning on going into the water,” Jack said.

“All right,” Warren said. “Let’s go.”

“You ladies concur?” Jack asked.

Both Laurie and Natalie nodded without a lot of enthusiasm. At the moment, the noonday sun was enervating. Despite being on the shore of the estuary, there was not a breath of air.

With the women positioned in the stern to help lift the bow, Jack and Warren pushed the heavy pirogue off the shore and jumped in one after the other. Everyone helped paddle out about fifty feet. Jack attended to the motor, compressing the small hand pump on top of the red fuel tank. He’d had a boat as a child on a lake in the Midwest and had a lot of experience fussing with an outboard.

“This canoe is a lot more stable than it looks,” Laurie said. Even with Jack moving around in the stern it was barely rocking.

“And no leaks,” Natalie said. “That was my concern.”

Warren stayed silent. He had a white knuckle grip on the gunwale.

To Jack’s surprise, the engine started after only two pulls. A moment later, they were off, motoring almost due east. After the oppressive heat the breeze felt good.

The drive to Acalayong had been accomplished quicker than they’d anticipated, even though the road deteriorated in comparison to the road north of the Cogo turnoff. There was no traffic save for an occasional northward-bound van inconceivably packed with passengers. Even the luggage racks on the tops had two or three people holding on for dear life.

Acalayong had brought smiles to everyone’s face. It was indicated as a city on the map but turned out to consist of no more than a handful of tawdry concrete shops, bars, and a few hotels. There was a cement-block police post with several men in dirty uniforms sprawled in rattan chairs in the shade of the porch. They’d eyed Jack and the others with soporific disdain as the van had passed by.

Although they had found the town comically honky-tonk and litter strewn, they’d been able to get something to eat and drink as well as procure the boat. With some unease, they’d parked the van in sight of the police station, hoping it would be there on their return.

“How long did you estimate it would take us?” Laurie shouted over the noise of the outboard. It was particularly loud because a portion of its cowling was missing.

“An hour,” Jack yelled back. “But the boat owner told me it would be more like twenty minutes. It’s apparently just around the headland directly ahead.”

At that moment, they were crossing the two-mile-wide mouth of Rio Congue. The jungle-covered shorelines were hazy with mist. Thunderheads loomed above; two thunderstorms had hit while they’d been in the van.

“I hope we don’t get caught out here in the rain,” Natalie said. But Mother Nature ignored her wish. Less than five minutes later, it was pouring so hard that some of the huge drops splashed river water into the boat. Jack slowed the engine and allowed the boat to guide itself, while he joined the others under the thatched canopy. To everyone’s pleasant surprise, they stayed completely dry.

As soon as they rounded the headland, they saw Cogo’s pier. Constructed of heavy pressure-treated timber, it was a far cry from the rickety docks at Acalayong. As they got closer, they could see there was a floating portion off the tip.

The first view of Cogo impressed everyone. In contrast with the dilapidated and haphazardly constructed buildings with flat, corrugated metal roofs endemic to Bata and all of Acalayong, Cogo was comprised of attractive, tiled, whitewashed structures reflecting a rich colonial ambiance. To the left and almost hidden by the jungle was a modern power station. Its presence was obvious only because of its improbably tall smokestack.

Jack cut the engine way back as the town approached so they could hear each other speak. Tied along the dock were several pirogues similar to the one they were in, though these others were piled high with fish netting.

“I’m glad to see other boats,” Jack said. “I was afraid our canoe would stand out like a sore thumb.”

“Do you think that large, modern building is the hospital?” Laurie said while pointing.

Jack followed her line of sight. “Yup, at least according to Arturo, and he should know. He was part of the initial building crew out here.”

“I suppose that’s our destination,” Laurie said.

“I’d guess,” Jack said. “At least initially. Arturo said the animal complex is a few miles away in the jungle. We might try to figure out a way to get out there.”

“The town is bigger than I expected,” Warren said.

“I was told it was an abandoned Spanish colonial town,” Jack explained. “Not all of it has been renovated, but from here it sure looks like it has.”

“What did the Spanish do here?” Natalie asked. “It’s nothing but jungle.”

“They grew coffee and cocoa,” Jack said. “At least that’s my understanding. Of course, I don’t have any idea where they grew it.”

“Uh-oh, I see a soldier,” Laurie said.

“I see him, too,” Jack said. His eyes had been searching along the waterfront as they came closer.

The soldier was dressed in the same jungle camouflage fatigues and red beret as the ones at the gate. He was aimlessly pacing a cobblestone square immediately at the base of the pier with an assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Does that mean we switch to plan C?” Warren questioned teasingly.

“Not yet,” Jack said. “Obviously, he’s where he is to interdict people coming off the pier. But look at that Chickee Hut built on the beach. If we got in there, we’d be home free.”

“We can’t just run the canoe up onto the beach,” Laurie said. “He’ll see that as well.”

“Look how high that pier is,” Jack said. “What if we were to slip underneath, beach the canoe there and then walk to the Chickee Hut? What do you think?”

“Sounds cool,” Warren said. “But this boat is not going to fit under that pier, no way.”

Jack stood up and made his way over to one of the poles that supported the thatched roof. It disappeared into a hole in the gunwale. Grasping it with both hands, he pulled it up. “How convenient!” he said. “This canoe is a convertible.”

A few minutes later, they had all the poles out, and the thatched roof had been converted to a pile of sticks and dried leaves. They distributed it along both sides under the benches.

“The owner’s not going to be happy about this,” Natalie commented.

Jack angled the boat so that the pier shielded them as much as possible from the line of sight from the square. Jack cut the engine just at the moment they glided into the shade under the pier. Grasping the timbers they guided the boat toward shore, being careful to duck under crossbeams.

The boat scraped up the shady patch of shore and came to a stop.

“So far so good,” Jack said. He encouraged the women and Warren to get out. Then, with Warren pulling and Jack paddling, they got the boat high on the beach.

Jack got out and pointed to a stone wall that ran perpendicular to the base of the pier before disappearing into the gently rising sand of the beach. “Let’s hug the wall. When we clear it, head for the Chickee Bar.”

A few minutes later, they were in the bar. The soldier had not paid them any heed. Either he didn’t see them or he didn’t care.

The bar was deserted except for a black man carefully cutting up lemons and limes. Jack motioned toward the stools and suggested a celebratory drink. Everyone was happy to comply. It had been hot in the canoe after the sun came out and especially after the canopy had come down.

The bartender came over immediately. His name tag identified him as Saturnino. In contradiction to his name, he was a jovial fellow. He was wearing a wild print shirt and a pillbox hat similar to the one Arturo had on when he picked them up at the airport the previous afternoon.

Following Natalie’s lead, everyone had Coke with a slice of lemon.

“Not much business today,” Jack commented to Saturnino.

“Not until after five,” the bartender said. “Then we are very busy.”

“We’re new here,” Jack said. “What money do we use?”

“You can sign,” Saturnino.

Jack looked at Laurie for permission. Laurie shook her head. “We’d rather pay,” he said. “Are dollars okay?”

“What you like,” Saturnino said. “Dollars or CFA. It makes no difference.”

“Where is the hospital?” Jack asked.

Saturnino pointed over his shoulder. “Up the street until you get to the main square. It is the big building on the left.”

“What do they do there?” Jack asked.

Saturnino looked at Jack as if he were crazy. “They take care of people.”

“Do people come from America just to go to the hospital?” Jack asked.

Saturnino shrugged. “I don’t know about that,” he said. He took the bills Jack had put on the bar and turned to the cash register.

“Nice try,” Laurie whispered.

“It would have been too easy,” Jack agreed.

Refreshed after their cold drinks, the group headed out into the sunlight. They passed within fifty feet of the soldier who continued to ignore them. After a short walk up a hot cobblestone street, they came to a small green surrounded by plantation-style homes.

“It reminds me of some of the Caribbean Islands,” Laurie said.

Five minutes later, they entered the tree-lined town square. The group of soldiers lolling in front of the town hall diagonally across from where they were standing spoiled the otherwise idyllic tableau.

“Whoa,” Jack said. “There’s a whole battalion.”

“I thought you said that if there were soldiers at the gate they wouldn’t have to have any in the town,” Laurie said.

“I’ve been proved wrong,” Jack acknowledged. “But there’s no need to go over and announce ourselves. This is the hospital lab complex in front of us.”

From the corner of the square, the building appeared to take up most of a Cogo city block. There was an entrance facing the square, but there was also one down the side street to their left. To avoid remaining in view of the lounging soldiers, they went to the side entrance.

“What are you going to say if we’re questioned?” Laurie asked with some concern. “And walking into a hospital, you know it’s bound to happen.”

“I’m going to improvise,” Jack said. He yanked the door open and ushered his friends in with an exaggerated bow.

Laurie glanced at Natalie and Warren and rolled her eyes. At least Jack could still be charming even when he was most exasperating.

After entering the building, everyone shivered with delight. Never had air conditioning felt quite so good. The room they found themselves in appeared to be a lounge, complete with wall-to-wall carpeting, club chairs, and couches. A large bookcase lined one wall. Some of the shelving was on an angle to display an impressive collection of periodicals from Time to National Geographic. There were about a half dozen people sitting in the room, all of them reading.

In the back wall at desk height was an opening fronted with sliding glass panels. Behind the glass a black woman in a blue uniform dress was sitting at a desk. To the right of the opening was a hall with several elevators.

“Could all these people be patients?” Laurie asked.

“Good question,” Jack said. “Somehow, I don’t think so. They all look too healthy and too comfortable. Let’s talk to the secretary or whoever she is.”

Warren and Natalie were intimidated by the hospital environment. They silently followed after Jack and Laurie.

Jack rapped softly on the glass. The woman looked up from her work and slid the glass open.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t see you arrive. Are you checking in?”

“No,” Jack said. “All my bodily functions are working fine at the moment.”

“Excuse me?” the woman questioned.

“We’re here to see the hospital, not use its services,” Jack said. “We’re doctors.”

“This isn’t the hospital,” the woman said. “This is the Inn. You can either go out and come in the front of the building or follow the hall to your right. The hospital is beyond the double doors.”

“Thank you,” Jack said.

“My pleasure,” the woman said. She leaned forward and watched as Jack and the others disappeared around the corner. Perplexed, the woman sat back and picked up her phone.

Jack led the others through the double doors. Immediately, the surroundings looked more familiar. The floors were vinyl and the walls were painted a soothing hospital green. A faint antiseptic smell was detectable.

“This is more like it,” Jack said.

They entered a room whose windows fronted on the square. Between the windows were a large pair of doors leading to the outside. There were a few couches and chairs on area rugs forming distinct conversational groupings, but it was nothing like the lounge they’d initially entered. But like the lounge, this space had a glass-fronted information cubbyhole.

Jack again knocked on the glass. Another woman slid open the glass partition. She was equally as cordial.

“We have a question,” Jack said. “We’re doctors, and we’d like to know if there are currently any transplant patients in the hospital?”

“Yes, of course, there’s one,” the woman said with a confused look on her face. “Horace Winchester. He’s in 302 and ready to be discharged.”

“How convenient,” Jack said. “What organ was transplanted?”

“His liver,” the woman said. “Are you all from the Pittsburgh group?”

“No, we’re part of the New York group,” Jack said.

“I see,” the woman said, although her expression suggested she didn’t see at all.

“Thank you,” Jack said to the woman as he herded the group toward the elevators that could be seen to the right.

“Luck is finally going our way,” Jack said excitedly. “This is going to make it easy. Maybe all we have to do is get a look at the chart.”

“As if that’s going to be easy,” Laurie commented.

“True,” Jack said after a moment’s thought. “So maybe we should just drop in on Horace and get the lowdown from the horse’s mouth.”

“Hey, man,” Warren said, pulling Jack to a stop. “Maybe Natalie and I should wait down here. We’re not used to being in a hospital, you know what I’m saying?”

“I suppose,” Jack said reluctantly. “But I kind of think its important for us to stick together in case we have to mosey down to the canoe sooner than we’d like. You know what I’m saying?”

Warren nodded and Jack pressed the elevator call button.

Cameron McIvers was accustomed to false alarms. After all, most of the time he or the Office of Security was called, it was a false alarm. Accordingly, as he entered the front door of the Inn, he was not concerned. But it was his job or one of his deputies’ to check out all potential problems.

As he crossed to the information desk, Cameron noted that the lounge was as subdued as usual. The calm scene bolstered his suspicions that this call would be like all the others.

Cameron tapped on the glass, and it was slid open.

“Miss Williams,” Cameron said, while touching the brim of his hat in a form of salute. Cameron and the rest of the security force wore khaki uniforms with an Aussie hat when on duty. There was also a leather belt with shoulder strap. A holstered Beretta was attached to the belt on the right side and a hand-held two-way radio on the left side.

“They went that way,” Corrina Williams said excitedly. She lifted herself out of her chair to point around the corner.

“Calm down,” Cameron said gently. “Who exactly are you talking about?”

“They didn’t give any names,” Corrina said. “There were four of them. Only one spoke. He said he was a doctor.”

“Hmmm,” Cameron voiced. “And you’ve never seen them before?”

“Never,” Corrina said anxiously. “They took me by surprise. I thought maybe they were to stay at the Inn since we had new arrivals yesterday. But they said they had come to see the hospital. When I told them how to get there, they left straightaway.”

“Were they black or white?” Cameron asked. Maybe this wouldn’t be a typical false alarm after all.

“Half and half,” Corrina said. “Two blacks, two whites. But I could tell from the way they were dressed they were all American.”

“I see,” Cameron said, while he stroked his beard and pondered the unlikely possibility of any of the Zone’s American workers coming into the Inn to say they wanted to see the hospital.

“The one who was talking also said something strange about his bodily functions working fine,” Corrina said. “I didn’t know how to respond.”

“Hmmm,” Cameron repeated. “Could I use your phone?”

“Of course,” Corrina said. She pulled the phone over from the side of her desk and faced it out toward Cameron.

Cameron punched the manager’s direct line. Siegfried answered immediately.

“I’m here at the Inn,” Cameron explained. “I thought you should be apprised of a curious story. Four strange doctors presented themselves here to Miss Williams with the wish to see the hospital.”

Siegfried’s response was an angry tirade that forced Cameron to hold the receiver away from his ear. Even Corrina cringed.

Cameron handed the phone back to the receptionist. He’d not heard every word of Siegfried’s invective but the meaning was clear. Cameron was to get reinforcements over there immediately and detain the alien doctors.

Cameron unsnapped the straps over both his Beretta and the radio simultaneously. He pulled the radio free and made an emergency call to base while he started for the hospital.

Room 302 turned out to be in the front of the building with a fine view out over the square looking east. Jack and the others had found the room without difficulty. No one had challenged them. In fact, they hadn’t seen a person as they’d made their way from the elevator to the room’s open door.

Jack had knocked but it was obvious the room was momentarily empty although there’d been plenty of evidence the room was occupied. A television with a built-in VCR was on, and it was showing an old Paul Newman movie. The hospital bed was moderately disheveled. An open, half-packed suitcase was poised on a luggage stand.

The mystery was solved when Laurie noticed the sounds of a shower behind the closed bathroom door.

When the water stopped running, Jack had knocked, but it wasn’t until almost ten minutes later that Horace Winchester appeared.

The patient was in his mid-fifties and corpulent. But he looked happy and healthy. He cinched up the tie on his bathrobe and padded over to the club chair by the bed. He sat down with a satisfied sigh.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked, smiling at his guests. “This is more company than I’ve had the whole time I’ve been here.”

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked. He grabbed a straight-back chair and sat down directly in front of Horace. Warren and Natalie lurked just outside the door. They felt reluctant to enter the room. Laurie went to the window. After seeing the group of soldiers, she’d become progressively anxious. She was eager to make the visit short and get back to the boat.

“I’m feeling just great,” Horace said. “It’s a miracle. I came here at death’s door and as yellow as a canary. Look at me now! I’m ready for thirty-six holes of golf at one of my resorts. Hey, any of you people are invited to any of my places for as long as you want to stay, and it will all be on the house. Do you like to ski?”

“I do,” Jack said. “But I’d rather talk about your case. I understand you had a liver transplant here. I’d like to ask where the liver came from?”

A half smile puckered Horace’s face as he regarded Jack out of the corner of his eye. “Is this some kind of test?” he asked. “Because if it is, it’s not necessary. I’m not going to be telling anyone. I couldn’t be more grateful. In fact, as soon as I can, I’m going to have another double made.”

“Exactly what do you mean by a ‘double’?” Jack asked.

“Are you people part of the Pittsburgh team?” Horace asked. He looked over at Laurie.

“No, we’re part of the New York team,” Jack said. “And we’re fascinated by your case. We’re glad you are doing so well, and we’re here to learn.” Jack smiled and spread his hands palm up. “We’re all ears. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“You mean how I got sick?” Horace asked. He was plainly confused.

“No, how you arranged to have your transplant here in Africa,” Jack said. “And I’d like to know what you mean by a double. Did you by any chance get a liver taken from some kind of ape?”

Horace gave a little nervous laugh and shook his head. “What’s going on here?” he questioned. He glanced again at Laurie and then at Natalie and Warren who were still standing in the doorway.

“Uh-oh!” Laurie suddenly voiced. She was staring out the window. “There’s a bunch of soldiers running this way across the square.”

Warren quickly crossed the room and looked out. “Shit, man. They mean business!”

Jack stood up, reached out, and grasped Horace by the shoulders. He leaned his face close to the patient’s. “You are really going to disappoint me if you don’t answer my questions, and I do the strangest things when I’m disappointed. What kind of animal was it, a chimpanzee?”

“They’re coming to the hospital,” Warren yelled. “And they all have AK-47’s.”

“Come on!” Jack urged Horace while giving the man a little shake. “Talk to me. Was it a chimpanzee?” Jack tightened his hold on the man.

“It was a bonobo,” Horace squeaked. He was terrified.

“Is that a type of ape?” Jack demanded.

“Yes,” Horace managed.

“Come on, man!” Warren encouraged. He was back at the door. “We got to get our asses out of here.”

“And what did you mean by a double?” Jack asked.

Laurie grabbed Jack’s arm. “There’s no time. Those soldiers will be up here in a minute.”

Reluctantly, Jack let go of Horace and allowed himself to be dragged to the door. “Damn, I was so close,” he complained.

Warren was waving frantically for them to follow him and Natalie down the central corridor toward the back of the building, when the elevator door opened. Out stepped Cameron with his Beretta clutched in his hand.

“Everyone halt!” Cameron shouted the moment he saw the strangers. He grabbed his gun in both hands and trained it on Warren and Natalie. Then he swept it around to aim at Jack and Laurie. For Cameron, the problem was that his adversaries were on either side of him. When he was looking at one group, he couldn’t see the other.

“Hands on top of your heads,” Cameron commanded. He motioned with the barrel of his gun.

Everyone complied, although every time Cameron swung the gun toward Jack and Laurie, Warren approached another step toward him.

“No one is going to get hurt,” Cameron said as he brought the gun back toward Warren.

Warren had gotten within range of a kick, and with lightning speed his foot lashed out and connected with Cameron’s hands. The gun bounced off the ceiling.

Before Cameron could react to his gun’s sudden disappearance, Warren closed in on him and hit him twice, once in the lower abdomen and then on the tip of the nose. Cameron collapsed backwards in a heap on the floor.

“I’m glad you’re on my team for this run,” Jack said.

“We got to get ourselves back to that boat!” Warren blurted without humor.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Jack said.

Cameron moaned and pushed himself over onto his stomach.

Warren looked both ways down the hall. A few minutes earlier, he’d thought of running down the main corridor toward the rear, but that was no longer a reasonable alternative. Halfway down the corridor he could see some nurses gathering and pointing in his direction.

Across from the elevators at eye-level was a sign in the form of an arrow that pointed down the hall beyond Horace’s room. It said: or.

Knowing they had little time to debate, Warren motioned in the direction of the arrow. “That way!” he barked.

“The operating room?” Jack questioned. “Why?”

“Because they won’t expect it,” Warren said. He grabbed a stunned Natalie by the hand and propelled her into a jog.

Jack and Laurie followed. They passed Horace’s room but the chubby man had locked himself in his bathroom.

The operating suite was set off from the rest of the hospital by the usual swinging doors. Warren hit them and went through with a straight arm like a football running back. Jack and Laurie were right behind.

There were no cases under way nor were there any patients in the recovery room. There weren’t even any lights on except for those in a supply room halfway down the hall. The supply room’s door was ajar, emitting a faint glow.

Hearing the repetitive thumps on the operating room doors, a woman appeared from the supply room. She was dressed in a scrub suit with a disposable cap. She caught her breath as she saw the four figures hurtling in her direction.

“Hey, you can’t come in here in street clothes,” she yelled as soon as she’d recovered from her initial shock. But Warren and the others had already passed. Perplexed, she watched the intruders run all the way down the rest of the corridor to disappear through the doors leading to the lab.

Turning back into the supply room, she went for the wall phone.

Warren skidded to a stop where the corridor formed a “T.” He looked in either direction. To the left at the far end was a red wall light indicating a fire alarm. Above it was an exit sign.

“Hold up!” Jack said, as Warren was preparing to dash down to what he imagined would be a stairwell.

“What’s the matter, man?” Warren questioned anxiously.

“This looks like a laboratory,” Jack said. He stepped over to a glazed door and looked inside. He was immediately impressed. Although they were in the middle of Africa, it was the most modern lab he’d ever seen. Every piece of equipment looked brand new.

“Come on!” Laurie snapped. “There’s no time for curiosity. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“It’s true, man,” Warren said. “Especially after hitting that security type back there, we’ve got to make tracks.”

“You guys go,” Jack said distractedly. “I’ll meet you at the boat.”

Warren, Laurie, and Natalie exchanged anxious glances.

Jack tried the door. It was unlocked. He opened it and walked inside.

“Oh, for crissake,” Laurie complained. Jack could be so frustrating. It was one thing for him to have little concern for his own safety, but it was quite another thing for him to compromise others.

“This place is going to be crawling with security dudes and soldiers in nothing flat,” Warren said.

“I know,” Laurie said. “You guys go. I’ll get him to come as soon as I can.”

“I can’t leave you,” Warren said.

“Think of Natalie,” Laurie said.

“Nonsense,” Natalie said. “I’m no frail female. We’re in this together.”

“You ladies go in there and talk some sense into that man,” Warren said. “I’m going to run down the hall and pull the fire alarm.”

“What on earth for?” Laurie asked.

“It’s an old trick I learned as a teenager,” Warren said. “Whenever there’s trouble cause as much chaos as you can. It gives you a chance to slip away.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Laurie said. She motioned for Natalie to follow and entered the lab.

They found Jack already engaged in pleasant conversation with a laboratory technician wearing a long white coat. She was a freckle-faced redhead with an amiable smile. Jack already had her laughing.

“Excuse me!” Laurie said, struggling to keep her voice down. “Jack, we have to go.”

“Laurie, meet Rolanda Phieffer,” Jack said. “She’s originally from Heidelberg, Germany.”

“Jack!” Laurie intoned through clenched teeth.

“Rolanda’s been telling me something very interesting,” Jack said. “She and her colleagues here are working on the genes for minor histocompatibility antigens. They’re moving them from a specific chromosome in one cell and sticking them into the same location on the same chromosome in another cell.”

Natalie, who’d walked over to a large picture window overlooking the square, hastily turned back into the room. “It’s getting worse. An entire car load of those Arabs in black suits are arriving.”

At that moment, the fire alarm in the building went off. It featured alternating sequences of three ear-splitting shrieks of a horn followed by a disembodied voice: “Fire in the laboratory! Please proceed immediately to stairwells for evacuation! Do not use the elevators!”

“Oh, my word!” Rolanda said. She looked around quickly to see what she should take with her.

Laurie grabbed Jack by both arms and shook him. “Jack, be reasonable! We have to get out of here.”

“I’ve figured it out,” Jack said with a wry smile.

“I don’t give a good goddamn,” Laurie spat. “Come on!”

They rushed out into the hall. Other people were appearing as well. Everyone seemed confused as they looked up and down the hall. Some were sniffing. There was animated conversation. Many people were carrying their lap-top computers.

Without rushing they moved en masse to the stairwell. Jack, Laurie, and Natalie met up with Warren who was holding the door. He’d also managed to find white coats which he distributed to the others. They all pulled them on over their clothes. Unfortunately, they were the only ones wearing shorts.

“They have created some kind of chimera with these apes called bonobos,” Jack said excitedly. “That’s the explanation. No wonder the DNA tests were so screwy.”

“What’s he carrying on about now?” Warren asked with irritation.

“Don’t ask,” Laurie said. “It will only encourage him.”

“Whose idea was it to pull the fire alarm?” Jack asked. “It was brilliant.”

“Warren’s,” Laurie said. “At least one of us is thinking.”

The stairwell opened up into a parking lot on the north side. People were milling about, looking back at the building, and talking in small groups. It was deathly hot since the sun was out and the parking lot was blacktop. A wailing fire siren could be heard coming from the northeast.

“What should we do?” Laurie asked. “I’m relieved we’ve gotten as far as we have. I didn’t think it was going to be so easy to get out of the building.”

“Let’s walk over to the street and turn left,” Jack said while pointing. “We can circle around the area to the west and get back to the waterfront.”

“Where are all those soldiers?” Laurie asked.

“And the Arabs?” Natalie added.

“I’d guess they’re looking for us in the hospital,” Jack said.

“Let’s go before all these lab people start going back into the building,” Warren said.

They tried not to rush to avoid attracting any attention. As they neared the street they all glanced behind them for fear they were being watched, but no one was even looking in their direction. Everybody was captivated by the fire crew who’d arrived.

“So far so good,” Jack said.

Warren was the first to reach the street. As he got a look to the west around the corner, he stopped abruptly and put his arms out to block the others. He backed up a step.

“We’re not going that way,” he said. “They’ve got a roadblock at the end of the street.”

“Uh-oh,” Laurie said. “Maybe they’ve sealed off the area.”

“You remember that power station we saw?” Jack said.

Everyone nodded.

“That power has to get over here to the hospital,” Jack said. “I’d bet there’s a tunnel.”

“Maybe,” Warren said. “But the trouble is we don’t know how to find it. Besides, I’m not thrilled about going back inside. Not with all those kids with AK-47’s.”

“Then let’s try walking across the square,” Jack said.

“Toward where we saw the soldiers?” Laurie questioned with dismay.

“Hey, if they’re over here at the hospital, there should be no problem,” Jack said.

“That’s a point,” Natalie agreed.

“Of course, we could always give ourselves up and say we’re sorry,” Jack said. “I mean, what can they do to us besides kick us the hell out. I think I’ve gotten what I came for, so it wouldn’t bother me in the slightest.”

“You’re joking,” Laurie said. “They’re not going to accept a mere apology. Warren struck that man; we’ve done more than trespass.”

“I’m joking to an extent,” Jack agreed. “But the man was sticking a gun in our face. That’s at least an explanation. Besides, we can leave a bunch of our French francs behind. Supposedly, that solves everything in this country.”

“It didn’t get us past the gate,” Laurie reminded him.

“All right, everything but get us in here,” Jack said. “But I’ll be very surprised if it doesn’t get us out.”

“We’ve got to do something,” Warren said. “The fire crew are already waving for the people to come back in the building. We’re going to be standing out here in this god-awful heat by ourselves.”

“So they are,” Jack said, squinting against the sunlight. He found his sunglasses and put them on. “Let’s try crossing the square before the soldiers return.”

Once again, they tried to walk calmly as if they were strolling. They got almost to the grass, when they became aware of a commotion at the door into the building. They all turned to see a number of the black-suited Arabs push their way pass the lab techs who were entering.

The Arabs rushed out into the sundrenched parking lot with their neckties flapping and their eyes squinting. Each brandished an automatic pistol in his hand. Behind the Arabs came several soldiers. Out of breath, they stood in the hot sun, panting while scanning the neighborhood.

Warren froze, and the rest of the group did the same.

“I don’t like this,” Warren said. “The six of them have enough fire power to rob the Chase Manhattan Bank.”

“They kind of remind me of the Keystone Cops,” Jack said.

“I don’t find anything about this comical at all,” Laurie said.

“Strangely enough, I think we’re going to have to walk back inside,” Warren said. “With these lab coats on they’re going to wonder why we’re standing out here.”

Before anyone could respond to Warren’s suggestion Cameron came out the door accompanied by two other men. One was dressed like Cameron: clearly a member of the security force. The other was shorter with a limp right arm. He, too, was dressed in khaki but without any of the martial embellishments the other two sported.

“Uh-oh,” Jack said. “I have a feeling we’ll be forced to use the apology approach after all.”

Cameron was holding a blood-spotted handkerchief to his nose, but it didn’t obstruct his vision. He spotted the group immediately and pointed. “That’s them!” he yelled.

The Moroccans and the soldiers responded immediately by surrounding the trespassers. Every gun was pointed at the group, who raised their hands without being told.

“I wonder if they’ll be impressed with my medical examiner badge?” Jack quipped.

“Don’t do anything foolish!” Laurie warned.

Cameron and his companions walked over immediately. Silently, the ring around the Americans opened to allow them through. Siegfried stepped to the forefront.

“We’d like to apologize for any inconvenience,” Jack began.

“Shut up!” Siegfried snapped. He walked around the group to eye them from all directions. When he got back to where he started, he asked Cameron if these were the people he’d encountered in the hospital.

“No doubt in my mind,” Cameron said while glaring directly into Warren’s face. “I hope you will indulge me, sir.”

“Of course,” Siegfried said with a slight wave of dismissal.

Without warning, Cameron punched Warren in the side of the face with a roundhouse blow. The sound was like a telephone directory falling to the floor. A plaintive whine escaped from Cameron’s lips as he grabbed his hand and gritted his teeth. Warren did not move a muscle. He may not have blinked.

Cameron swore under his breath and stepped away.

“Search them,” Siegfried commanded.

“We are sorry if we-” Jack began but Siegfried didn’t let him finish. He slapped him with an open fist hard enough to turn Jack’s head in the direction of the blow and raise a red welt on his cheek.

Cameron’s deputy quickly relieved Jack and the others of their passports, wallets, money, and car keys. He gave them to Siegfried, who slowly went through them. After he looked at Jack’s passport, he raised his eyes and glowered at him.

“I’ve been told you are a troublemaker,” Siegfried said with disdain.

“I’d rather think of myself as a tenacious competitor,” Jack said.

“Ah, arrogant as well,” Siegfried snarled. “I hope your tenacity comes in handy once you are turned over to the Equatoguinean military.”

“Perhaps we can call the American Embassy and resolve this,” Jack said. “We are, after all, government employees.”

Siegfried smiled, which actually only increased his scar-induced sneer. “American Embassy?” he questioned with uncamouflaged scorn. “In Equatorial Guinea! What a joke! Unfortunately for you, it’s out on the island of Bioko.” He turned to Cameron. “Put them in the jail but separate the men and the women!”

Cameron snapped his fingers for his deputy. He wanted the four handcuffed first. While this was in progress he and Siegfried drew off to the side.

“Are you really going to hand them over to the Equatoguineans?” Cameron asked.

“Absolutely,” Siegfried said. “Raymond told me all about Stapleton. They have to disappear.”

“When?” Cameron asked.

“As soon as Taylor Cabot leaves,” Siegfried said. “I want this whole episode kept quiet.”

“I understand,” Cameron said. He touched the brim of his hat and then went back to supervise the transfer of the prisoners to the jail in the basement of the town hall.