Pandemic

42

THURSDAY, 9:15 P.M.

Jack turned to catch one more glimpse of GeneRx and then the Dover Valley Hospital before David pulled out onto the county road and gunned the Lexus. Ahead they could see Kang-Dae and the Range Rover. Both vehicles were heading north.

“Okay,” Jack said, facing toward his liberator and beginning to calm down. “This has been one strange day. I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I can’t help it. I need to start by asking exactly who you are, David.”

“That is entirely reasonable,” David said. “My name is actually Zhao Daquan.”

“Zhao, like Wei Zhao?” Jack asked.

“Exactly,” David said. “Wei Zhao is my father.”

“Interesting,” Jack said. The catchword had never felt more appropriate. This whole affair, starting with the call from Bart Arnold about the first subway death, had been full of continual surprises. The idea that Jack had been rescued from a potentially calamitous situation by the son of his major antagonist seemed a kind of poetic justice.

“I suppose you want to know what is going on here,” David said.

“Oh, no!” Jack responded. “I love being totally in the dark. It makes life so much more unpredictable.”

David laughed again, this time with true hilarity. “I have to say, I like your humor, Dr. Stapleton. The background check my father had done on you characterized you as someone who liked to pun and use sarcasm. It certainly was on the mark.”

“So you had access to my infamous dossier,” Jack said. “That gives you an unfair advantage.”

“I am happy to tell you whatever you would like to know about me,” David said.

Ahead, Jack noticed that they were rapidly approaching the entrance to Interstate 80 East that would take them back to New York City, if that was their destination. Jack could see that the Range Rover had continued straight, going under the highway, presumably en route to Wei’s home. For a few seconds Jack held his breath, but then at the appropriate moment David steered onto the entrance ramp. Jack secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well?” David questioned. “What do you want to ask me?”

“Were you born here in the USA?”

“No, I was born in Shanghai,” David said.

“You speak flawless American English,” Jack said.

“Thank you for the compliment,” David said. “I came here nine years ago to go to MIT to study biotechnology and microbiology. Now I am finishing my Ph.D. in genetics and bioinformatics at Columbia University’s Systems Biology Center.”

“So your plan is to follow in your father’s footsteps?” Jack asked.

“In general, yes,” David said. “In specific, no. My goal is to run my father’s biotech and pharmaceutical companies in China, not here in the USA.”

“From my conversation with your father, I get the feeling he’s interested in pulling out of China and concentrating his efforts here.”

“Unfortunately, that is the case,” David said. “I am afraid my own father and his closest team members have become somewhat counterrevolutionaries. My father has always been a unique man, starting with his worshipping Arnold Schwarzenegger and becoming a bodybuilder and martial-arts devotee while studying biotechnology.”

“I can attest to the martial-arts aspect,” Jack said. “We were having a reasonably pleasant conversation when he unleashed one of those wild martial-arts kicks at my head. Of course, I started it by trying to shove him out of the way.”

“You got into a physical fight with my father?” David questioned with obvious incredulity. “I can’t believe you, Dr. Stapleton. And what surprises me, you came out of it without a scratch.”

“I was saved by your father’s security team,” Jack said. “Who knows what would have happened if they hadn’t shown up. And you can call me Jack. Rescuing me from the slaughterhouse entitles you to be on a first-name basis at an absolute minimum.”

“Jack it is,” David said. “I am currently heavier than my father and have also studied martial arts and done bodybuilding under my father’s direction, but I would never challenge him to a fight, even though he is nearly seventy. You are very brave, Jack.”

“Sometimes foolish but not brave,” Jack said. “But let’s get back to your story. You were calling your father and his peers counterrevolutionaries.”

“That’s correct,” David said. “Especially of late. My generation feels much differently about China today than our parents did. China is ascendant. China is on its way to take its rightful place on the world stage.”

“Are you suggesting there’s a kind of new cultural revolution?” Jack questioned.

“In a fashion,” David said. “China needed Mao to force a break from the stranglehold of the past to create a new mind-set for industrialization and pull China into the twentieth century. Now China needs a new incentive to break from the inferiority complex the country has suffered since the Colonial Period, as well as from the capitalist selfishness like my father exhibits. My father is a philanthropist, but he thinks of his billions of renminbi as completely his.”

“There is an irony here,” Jack said. “Your father admitted to me that he got his start as a Red Guard in the Mao Cultural Revolution. Now you are in a sense doing the same thing.”

“I suppose that is true,” David said. “But I want to be part of my Chinese heritage. I am proud of it, and I want to be part of the Chinese ascendency.”

“You aren’t afraid you have become too Americanized, having been living here for nine years?” Jack asked. “Will you find it hard to adapt to living back in China?”

“I don’t think I will have any trouble at all,” David said. “We Chinese university-age generation are all on the same page, whether we are in school in Wuhan, or Canberra, or Paris, or Boston. We are of the same mind-set to truly make China great again, pardon the hackneyed phrase. Whereas here in the USA there is depressing divisiveness and a kind of anti-immigrant neotribalism that is getting progressively worse, in China we millennials are coming together.”

“I can’t argue with you there,” Jack said. “Let me ask you something more specific. How did you know that I was being held in the slaughterhouse animal pen?”

“Kang-Dae called me in New York and told me,” David said.

“And why would he do that?” Jack said. There still seemed to be more that Jack didn’t know than what he did.

“It’s a rather complicated story,” David said. “Are you sure you want to hear it.”

“There’s nothing I want to hear more,” Jack said. It didn’t make any sense at all to him, as Ted Markham had told Jack that Kang-Dae had been Wei’s personal assistant for almost forty years. And he acted as if he was totally devoted to the man.

“You have to understand exactly who Kang-Dae is,” David said.

“I was told he originally was a defector from North Korea,” Jack said. “And has been working for your father for practically a lifetime.”

“That’s correct,” David said. “But the important thing is how he became my father’s assistant. My father didn’t hire him on his own accord. Kang-Dae was a Chinese government plant to keep tabs on my father that my father was compelled to hire, and Kang-Dae has continued in the same capacity to this day. It is all rather ironic in that my father has been aware of Kang-Dae’s role practically since day one but never cared. Since Kang-Dae had no family, my father even let him live in a spare room in our house, despite knowing he was, in effect, a spy. I have known Kang-Dae my whole life. He’s family without being family.”

“But why would he go out of his way to tell you I was locked up in the slaughterhouse?” Jack asked. “Obviously your father thinks of me as a distinct liability, as he should. Kang-Dae witnessed our brawl.”

“Because our goals coincide,” David said. “The Chinese government doesn’t want my father to succeed here in the United States, for fear he’ll shut down his companies in China. Same with me and a large contingent of the Chinese interns that are here working in GeneRx.”

“Your father thinks that these last two heart transplants with the pig-grown organs were sabotaged,” Jack said. “Do you think that is true?”

“I know it is true,” David said. “It was a regular old-fashioned conspiracy and a group decision. We thought the best way to delay the program was to reintroduce a pig retrovirus into the cloned retrovirus-free litter of pigs used to clone the customized pigs. I was the one who chose the B virus used, as it was known to infect human cells in culture. What none of us had any idea about was that it would be capable of eliciting a cytokine storm. That took us all by surprise. Actually, we counted on them finding the retrovirus well before the organs were harvested. The original protocol called for such a final check. We don’t know why it wasn’t done, although it is obvious it had something to do with the rapidity of Carol Stewart’s clinical deterioration. It is tragic that the final check wasn’t performed. Unfortunately it’s something I’m afraid I am going to have to live with.”

“Your father thinks that had this sabotage not happened, the two women involved would be alive and well today, ushering in a whole new era in transplant treatment. Do you agree?”

“My father has usually been right in such things,” David said. “And he is probably right about this. It’s why he is a billionaire and most of his colleagues are not. He knew from the moment he first heard about CRISPR/CAS9 that it was a breakthrough technology. He’s absolutely certain it’s going to change the face of clinical medicine. Revolutionizing the organ-transplant field is just the first of a host of amazing things it will be providing.”

“You do understand that I will have to report all this,” Jack said. “At a minimum, I’ll be making sure the FDA’s Office of Criminal Investigations will be alerted tomorrow morning.” Although he understood everything David had said, in the final analysis it was the death of the two women that bothered Jack the most.

“I was hoping that would be the case,” David said. “It’s why I was intent on getting you out of where you were being held.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be asking this,” Jack said, “but if you hadn’t shown up as a liberator, what do you think would have happened to me?”

“My father would have delegated your fate to one of his many underlings,” David said. “He wouldn’t have given it much thought. He is good at compartmentalizing.”

“I was afraid of that,” Jack said.

“You had impressed my father with the efforts you had made investigating Carol Stewart,” David said. “Kang-Dae told me he was intent on convincing you to join the team. He thought that you would be a terrific asset in dealing with the problems that he expects he’ll be facing from the usual regulatory agencies. I’m somewhat surprised you were able to resist, as he can be very convincing.”

“I was never tempted,” Jack said.

As they sped toward the city, Jack felt himself progressively relax the farther they got from the Farm Institute and its slaughterhouse. The traffic was light, even as they neared the George Washington Bridge, the world’s busiest.

“Your father said something reassuring,” Jack said, breaking the silence. “He said that thanks to CRISPR/CAS9, GeneRx engineers had already developed a rapid test for determining the presence of the new gammaretroviral disease and also how to cure it. Is that correct, as far as you know?”

“It is,” David said. “It is another tribute to the power of this revolutionary gene-editing technology.”

“That’s terrific,” Jack said. “That should make the elimination of the mini-pandemic this episode has caused rather easy.”

“No doubt,” David said.

Jack glanced around at the impressive interior of the sports car, with its sumptuous leather seats and swank-appearing dash. “Nice wheels,” he said, trying to sound contemporary like Warren.

“It’s not bad,” David said offhandedly.

“It’s the most impressive car I’ve been in,” Jack said. “What model is it?”

“It’s a Lexus LC 500 coupe,” David said. “I’d asked for a Lamborghini but had to settle for this. As usual, my father didn’t even ask for my opinion. That’s the way it has always been.”

Jack didn’t respond. He guessed it would be difficult not to be spoiled growing up with a billionaire father. He felt immensely grateful for having been rescued from a potentially lethal predicament, even if it was due to a feud between an overindulged child and a megalomaniacal father. The real victims of the whole ordeal were those who had died and those who might still die from this new retroviral disease.

Once they had crossed the George Washington Bridge to Manhattan, David exited onto the West Side Highway, heading south.

“You seem to know where you are going,” Jack commented. He hadn’t given David the address.

“I’ve been living in the city for five years,” David said. “I know my way around. And I know you live at Sixty-three West 106th Street. Kang-Dae sent me a copy of the dossier my father had ordered on you.”

With some difficulty, Jack suppressed his knee-jerk irritation at the violation of his personal space that Wei Zhao’s investigation represented, but the thought reminded him of the bizarre shooting incident the night before. He mentioned it to David and then questioned, “Is that something you know anything at all about?”

“I heard it was a close call,” David said, suggesting he knew a great deal more than that.

“How so?” Jack asked, but it seemed as if his worst fears were being confirmed. If it was a close call, then Jack had been involved.

“Let me put it this way,” David said. “Our group became aware of a possible plot to have you taken care of. We weren’t entirely certain what that meant, so we decided it best to provide you with protection from a possible assassination attempt if that is what it meant. We were committed to not let anything to happen to you. We felt strongly that you were our best hope that my father and his minions wouldn’t be able to sweep the current problems with Carol Stewart under the carpet. Unfortunately, it turned out that we were right, and it was a good thing we had some people there.”

“I see,” Jack said, trying to maintain his composure. It was now obvious he had come within a hairsbreadth of being shot.

“Come what may, my father fully intends to dominate what is going to turn out to be an extraordinarily lucrative porcine transplant business,” David continued. “In that light, it might be wise for you to look to your own security over the next few days. Our group can continue to help, but realistically speaking, we are amateurs in comparison with what my father and his team are capable of marshaling. He’s motivated. From his point of view, he thinks the societal good that will result in terms of lives saved and quality of life improved justifies everything he is doing.”

A chill passed down Jack’s spine and his pulse quickened as he began to truly contemplate the extent of the risks he had been so blithely assuming. He hadn’t appreciated the extent that his actions and behavior had been propelled by a combination of his own inner demons and stresses both personal and domestic.

David turned off the West Side Highway at 96th Street. They rode in silence all the way to Central Park West and then onto 106th Street. Only when Jack’s brownstone was in sight did Jack begin to truly relax.

David pulled over to the curb. Jack reached for the door handle, feeling extraordinarily lucky. He opened the door, got out, but then leaned back inside.

“I want to thank you for rescuing me,” Jack said. “It truly was a rescue. I was in a hell of a lot more danger than I was willing to acknowledge. Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” David said. “And I want to thank you for your perseverance, as I think it will prove to be key in helping us thwart my father’s exit from China.”

“If that happens, it will be inadvertent,” Jack admitted. “All my activities were in response to a combination of my own needs and a desire to speak for the dead, meaning Carol Stewart. That’s what we forensic pathologists do.”

“I understand,” David said.

“I have one specific request,” Jack said. “Would you personally see to it that the CDC gets the rapid test and the cure for the specific gammaretrovirus first thing in the morning? I want that mini-pandemic to be a thing of the past.”

“I will see to it personally,” David promised.

Jack reached into the car and shook hands with the youthful Ph.D. student. “I hope your dreams come true in your life in China,” he said, “and it all turns out as you hope.”

“Thank you,” David said. “Be safe!”

Jack closed the car door and waved as David laid a small strip of rubber on the pavement as a final statement. Jack watched the car’s taillights quickly diminish in size and intensity before the car turned on Columbus Avenue and disappeared from sight. For a moment Jack stayed where he was, thinking about all that David had said. The main thing that Jack took from it all was that China was undoubtedly going to play a major role in his children’s lives.

Turning toward his building and raising his eyes, Jack looked up at the façade. He was glad to see the warm, incandescent light streaming out of the window in the study on the fifth floor. It meant that Laurie was most likely working, and the image filled him with a renewed sense of appreciation and love.