Cory recalled the audition. He’d imagined doing well over and over, and when it came time to play for Jay Bird, he killed it.
Could he visualize a world without suffering children, without cancer, or illegal organ harvesting? It was unrealistic, he reasoned.
But he could visualize the idea he had to shut down the bastards who kidnapped and maimed Ava. It was dangerous but doable.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cory was shown into Dr. Evans’s office. The head of Mount Sinai’s transplant unit smiled. “You made a proper appointment. Should I be worried?”
“No. What I want to talk about is super important. I wanted to make sure you had the time.”
“Have a seat.”
“Mind if I close the door?”
Evans arched an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”
As Cory sat, Evans asked, “How is Ava doing?”
“Physically she’s doing well. She’s going back to school next week. I hope it improves her mood.”
“I’m sure it will. What did you think of Dr. Illardi and his team?”
“We liked them, and Ava seems to like them. It makes doing what they tell her easier to swallow.”
“In that regard, teenagers and those in their eighties are similar.”
“Too young to listen and too old to be told what to do.”
“I think that’s it. But give Ava some time, she’s been through a traumatic experience.”
Cory exhaled. “You ain’t kidding.”
“It’ll get better. She needs more time.”
“I hope you’re right, but she’s not herself.”
“Keep me apprised. Maybe I can help.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s on your mind?”
Cory filled him in on Black’s idea.
“Interesting. I wonder if the police are considering infiltrating the gang.”
“I doubt it. The agent running the FBI’s investigation said their focus is on following the drugs they use.”
“The G-men caught Al Capone for cheating on his taxes.”
Cory leaned forward. “What do you think of using one of your doctors or nurses?”
“To go undercover?”
“They’re experienced. I bet these guys will jump at the chance.”
Evans shook his head. “That’s an absurd idea.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re medical professionals. They don’t have the training for a clandestine operation.”
“But—”
“No buts. Look, I’m sorry, but there is no way I, or the hospital, could take part in something like that.”
“How are we going to stop the butchering?”
Evans exhaled. “Keep doing what you were doing to increase the donor pool. If the wait times come down far enough, no one would take a chance, they’d come inside the system.”
“But there’s a limit to how many will volunteer.”
“A few years ago, I participated in an effort that explored incentives to boost the donor pool.”
“I bet it came down to money.”
“Outright payment for an organ is illegal, but we came up with some novel ideas. One was having the government offer lifetime Medicare or make a deposit into a retirement account for a donor. Even issuing tuition vouchers for a donor’s child was discussed.”
“All good ideas. Where did it go?”
“The Feds nixed it. We were surprised, since paying for dialysis treatments has higher long-term costs than a transplant.”
“That’s the government for you. What other ideas did you come up with?”
“Most were controversial, but one I liked, and I’ll deny saying it, was using inmates.”
“Forced harvesting like they do in China?”
“No. Hypothetically, say someone is incarcerated for a twenty-year term for robbing a bank. If they’re in good health, why not offer a reduction in their prison term, say, cut it down to five years if they agree to donate?”
“Wow. That almost makes too much sense. They pay their debt to society, but with an organ, not by doing time.”
“Exactly. You’d have to exclude people like murderers and rapists, but we have about two million people in correctional facilities. It would have had a significant impact on wait times, but it went nowhere.”
“It’d be voluntary. What was the argument against it?”
“An old, reliable one—the slippery slope.”
“I can see the objections, but something like this should be aired out in public.”
“I agree, but unfortunately, the organ shortage is not a priority.”
“Until some big-shot politician needs one.”
“Maybe.”
“I guess we’re going to have to wait until we can figure out how to grow organs in a lab.”
“There are efforts in that direction, but it’s going to take a significant amount of time to become a reality.”
* * *
Cory was hanging his jacket. Linda sidled up. “Ava’s been in a terrible mood.”
“All day?”
“Yup.”
“Hopefully she’ll cheer up when she goes back to school.”
“She doesn’t want to go. Said it’s too early.”
“What did these bastards do to our Ava?”
Linda hung her head and Cory embraced her, whispering, “She’ll be okay.”
“I’m worried.”
“This may sound crazy, but it might help if we can get her to visualize herself as she was before all this happened. Visualizing something is a real powerful tool. I use it all the time.”
“Since when?”
“Since I started playing. I never thought about it until recently. You know, we should be telling Tommy as well. It really helps. It makes achieving things easier if you can see yourself doing it.”
“I heard of that, but I’m not sure how it will help Ava.”
“She has to get back to thinking she’s normal. How you see yourself is super important.”
“I know. I’ll work it into a conversation, maybe after dinner.”
“Try to use an example of what you did when you were around her age.”
“You a psychotherapist now?”
“I hope we don’t need to take her for therapy.”
“This goes on any longer, we’re going to have to.”
“If we got to go there, Dr. Bruno is the one. She’s the best.”
“We’ll see.”
Cory headed to the studio. “I gotta get moving.”
“What are you doing?”
“Gonna do a lesson via Zoom.”
“A video lesson?”
“Yeah, a friend of the kid, Reggie, lives in Canada and wants to take lessons.”
* * *
Cory turned off the lamp and crawled into bed. “What the heck was Ava crying about?”
“She doesn’t know. She said she feels bad. I think it’s depression.”
“This is frigging crazy. It’s not bad enough she was kidnapped and cut open? Now, she’s got mental problems?”
“If you remember, Dr. Illardi said it was a possibility. He said she’d get over it.”
“Take her to Bruno.”
“We need to talk to her about it. Together.”
“Okay.”
“Good night. I’m beat.”
“’Night, love you.”
Cory stared at the ceiling as Linda’s breathing slowed. How did you start a conversation with your daughter, telling her she needed therapy?
He turned on his side, wondering how the hell this happened. The daughter he knew was drifting away, and it was the gang’s fault. The need for revenge quickened his heartbeat.
What could he do? He wanted them dead or behind bars for the rest of their miserable lives, but how?
Though it would take time, Cory felt Black’s plan was solid. Having someone inside made a lot of sense. But Evans had shot down the idea that would have provided the police with irrefutable evidence.
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Cory rolled Black’s scheme around. It was likely the FBI had agents who were doctors or could fake it. Why hadn’t they thought of this? Reasoning they had and passed, Cory cycled through options.
Linda moaned in her sleep. Cory gently nudged her. He hoped she wasn’t dreaming of Ava, then an idea hit him. Considering the notion, he propped himself up.
He thought it through and swung his legs off the bed. It was dangerous, but he’d do it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Shu opened an incognito tab and plugged an URL in. It routed him to a monitoring station in North Station controlled by China. The video captured by the satellite was first-class and had been stolen from the US military.
He zoomed in on the RV traveling north on Route 95. The vehicle was just outside of Washington, D.C. Shu checked the timeline. The expected arrival time was 3:05 p.m.
Shu smiled. The long journey from Spotford, a small town forty miles from the Rio Grande River, had experienced no delays or unusual activity.
He had three hours to get to Trenton. Though he’d seen pictures of the donors, Shu wanted to personally eyeball the men riding north. The quality of the donors played a critical component in the success rate. Though blood panels were revealing, Shu couldn’t take chances.
The next load of donors was originating farther west, from Las Cruces, New Mexico. The coyotes who shepherded people over the border said those crossing at New Mexico were less likely to be from Central America.
That made geographical sense, but what interested Shu was the general health differences.
He sent a text, and a minute later, Li knocked on his door.
“What can I do for you?”
“They’re due in three hours. Let’s go to lunch before we head to New Jersey.”
“Sounds good.”
“Bring the car around.”
“Will do.”
“And release the second load. I want them on the road.”
* * *
“They’re here.”
Standing behind a one-way window, Shu watched the garage door grind its way open. The light flooding into the warehouse cut down as a gray RV inched in.
The driver got out, unlocking the RV’s side door. He stepped up and guided the first donor off. Shu studied the blindfolded man. He was lean but moved purposefully. Though his face had been aged by sun exposure, Shu knew he was around thirty years old.
Shu thumbed through a handful of papers and found the one with a picture matching the man: Eduardo Jimenez, a thirty-two-year-old.
Claiming to be from Mexico City, Jimenez was five feet six inches and had type O blood. Shu marked him as a possible kidney donor, pending HLA comparisons with a recipient.
A second man was led past the window. A scar ran down the muscular man’s face. It was Ricardo Vasquez. Shu was glad to see he was fit. Vasquez also had type O blood.
Shu studied the four other men. His people had followed instructions. Shu wanted men in their late twenties and in good health, but even more desirable was having type O blood.
The most common blood type meant they could donate an organ to anyone regardless of the recipient’s blood type. It streamlined the process, and Shu was feeling good about the quality of donors.
As a precaution, Shu waited as the men were examined by a physician and underwent MRI imaging. Informed there were no red flags, he gave the go-ahead.
Separated into two groups of three, the men were guided toward two black RVs. As the men were loaded onto the mobile surgical units, Shu and Li left.
Li pulled out of the parking lot. Shu said, “We’re going to need a dozen beds in rehab facilities. As long as the donors and recipients are stable, I want them transferred no later than forty-eight hours after surgery.”
“No problem. It only gets difficult when a procedure needs to be done at these places. Getting rehab space for recovery is easy. I’ll set it up.”
“Good. We’re going to accelerate the plan.”
“I’m ready.”
“When are the other RVs going to be outfitted?”
“Two will be ready in a week.”
“Make sure they’re not late. I’ve authorized the New Mexico coyotes to supply six a week.”
“Tay bought six RVs for transport.”
“Did he spread the buy?”
“Yes. Two each from Minnesota, Michigan, and Ohio.”
“I trust from different dealers.”
“Yes. None from the same county. I double-checked the receipts.”
Shu nodded. “Pick up another three. With more frequent trips, we’ll have to rotate the units.”
“I’ll get them ASAP.”
“I’d like you to head down to Arizona, by Lukeville. There’s a national park called Organ Pipe Cactus.”
“Interesting name.”
“It’s the only place that type of cactus grows. It’s an excellent source of hydration and calories, making it a draw for illegals crossing by themselves.”
“They go without a guide?”
“Many do. I’d like to see if we can cut the middleman out. We’d increase our margins and reduce our exposure to outsiders.”
“I like that. We’ve got to keep an eye on the size of the circle.”
“And remind everyone not to let their guard down.”
“I’ll reinforce the point.”
“Gao is sending four new surgeons and six nurses over.”
“At the same time?”
“It’ll be staggered over a couple of weeks, but they’ll need housing and transportation. The first will arrive on the tenth.”
“We’ll get on it.”
“Don’t base anyone in the city. Look at Southern and Central Jersey, Connecticut, and Pennsylvania. And no doubling up, it’ll arouse suspicion.”
“Can we still use working in tech as a cover?”
“Yes, but something different. Let’s use an artificial intelligence start-up.”
“Perfect.”
“I’m going to be taking a trip to Beijing. I’ll only be away for three days, but you’re going to have your hands full. Get together with Tay. He’ll have to take some of your responsibilities.”
“We’ll be fine. Enjoy the trip. When are you going?”
“Day after tomorrow. I don’t want anyone to know I’m going.”
“No worries. Can I help you prepare for the trip?”
“Just the standard arrangements.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cory walked down Fifty-Third Street. He had never heard of Paley Park and Googled where it was. He knew there were no parks around here and thought he had made a mistake with the location.
There was an opening between two buildings, and he wondered if that was the park. He took another step, noticing a wall of a building covered in leaves.
It had to be the park, he thought, and picked up his pace. He turned into the small space, taking in the water that cascaded down the building at the rear of the park.
Black was in one of the white chairs scattered among a handful of trees growing out of the cement. He faced the water. The sound of the water covered the blare of the city.
Cory was a couple of steps from Black when Black turned and motioned to the chair beside him. Cory wondered how he sensed his presence.
“I never knew this place existed.”
“It’s a pocket park. Paley, the guy who ran CBS, built it. It’s a good place to think.”
“Yeah, the water drowns everything out.”
“Eighteen hundred gallons a minute will do that.”
“Wow. That’s a crazy amount of water.”
“How’s your daughter?”
“Not so good. I mean, physically she’s doing good, but she’s depressed.”
“Could be PTSD.”
“Nah, nothing like that. I think she’s just afraid.”
“Good reason to be.”
“This whole thing has got me crazy. I got to get back at these guys.”
“You w
ant revenge?”
“Damn right I do.”
“The best revenge is one that’s gone too far.”
Cory hesitated. “All I want to do is bust those bastards up. They can’t be swiping kids off the street and cutting them open.”
“They changed tactics. They’re using illegals, bringing them up from the border.”
“Look, I thought a lot about what you said about taking them down from the inside.”
“Infiltration works, no doubt.”
“I got an idea how to do it.”
“These guys are sophisticated; it’s unlikely they’ll trust anyone right away.”
“I get that, but since they’re bringing donors up from the border—why not use a donor? We’d get information on how they transport them and where they perform the operations. We let the police know, and they shut them down.”
Black shook his head. “How are you going to get an illegal to cooperate? They’re not going to trust you, especially if you’re going to bring the cops in.”
“What if I did it?”
“Did what?”
“Posed as an illegal willing to sell a kidney.”
Black smiled. “You? Forget it.”
“Why? Why can’t I do it?”
“Look, I get you’re pissed over what happened to your kid. It’s natural. But this is dangerous. They find out, and you’re a dead man.”
“I know it’s risky but—”
“Besides the fair chance of getting killed, you wouldn’t get the goods on the higher-ups as a patient. You’d get the driver, some medical staff, but not those running it.”
“The cops could lean on them, get them to turn.”
“These guys have a couple of layers between them.”
“But it would disrupt them. Make them back off.”
“Until the heat died down.”
“It’s worth doing it.”
“You tell your wife about your dream to go undercover?”
“It’s no dream. I’ve thought this through.”
Black shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You going to help me or not?”
“Me? What do you want me to do?”
“Your advice and contacts. I’m going to need to get in touch with the guys they use to supply donors.”
“They’re using coyotes to bring people over the border. All those guys give a damn about is money. You pay them enough, they’ll do anything. Those guys aren’t afraid of anyone, Chinese or whatever.”
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