Cory's Shift

by Dan Petrosini

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Shu inserted the SIM card in his secure phone and dialed China.

  “My friend Gao. How are you?”

  “Other than busy, we are well. And you?”

  “I can say the same. There are not enough hours in the day to accomplish everything.”

  “Is it too much for you?”

  “Not at all. I’m not complaining. We are pleased with our progress.”

  “And the new supply lines? I hear they’re going well.”

  “Yes. I can only wish I had come up with the idea earlier.”

  “The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago. The second-best time is now.”

  “Yes, that proverb is certainly true.”

  “Indeed. The old masters gave us plenty of wisdom. Before I forget, we’ve passed word to our Argentina emissary to spread the message, discreetly, to drum up interest.”

  “Excellent. The margins are higher for organ tourism.”

  “Based upon the report, I’d expect a good deal of interest.”

  “Agreed. We have to be careful, as we’re approaching our limits in regard to surgeons.”

  “Ask them to work extra shifts.”

  “That’s an idea. However, we must be careful not to overwork them, or the outcomes will suffer. It would destroy the reputation we’ve built.”

  “Recruitment is the solution.”

  “Yes, and I have an idea.”

  “Go on.”

  Even though it was Shu’s idea, he said, “It might have been something you said a while ago. Why not make acceptance into China’s medical schools contingent on giving back something to China, who has given them so much?”

  “Yes, I remember mentioning this. What do you propose?”

  “Why not require two or maybe three years of service to their country. You decide what the particular service is, dependent upon China’s needs, but one of them could be supporting our transplant efforts.”

  “There are many areas. Just yesterday, I was telling our deputies that we must ask our new doctors to serve in the countryside.”

  “That’s an excellent idea. For us, we only need five or ten qualified surgeons to triple our business.”

  “I’ll schedule a meeting with Mr. Jiu. He’ll support the idea.”

  “Excellent. I’m wondering if you can ask the national health minister about progress in the artificial organ program. If I had one wish, it would be for China to lead the world in creating organs. It would reduce our costs and streamline our operation.”

  “I haven’t seen a report recently, but I know there have been challenges.”

  “I’ve learned the University of Davis has been making progress growing human stem cells inside of pigs.”

  “I’ll see what the Ministry of State Security can secure from Davis. We’ve obtained useful information from their viticulture program.”

  “If they get inside information, we can reverse engineer it. It would eliminate the need for donors, and we’d stay out of the American authorities’ crosshairs.”

  “You are worrying needlessly. Remember, it is difficult to catch a black cat in a dark room, especially when it’s not there.”

  “I haven’t heard that in a long time. My mother said that when I had nightmares as a boy.”

  “It remains true. You give the Americans too much credit.”

  “You’re right, but Confucius said, ‘The cautious seldom err.’”

  “He also said, ‘A man who does not plan long ahead will find trouble at his door.’ We have done the planning; relax my friend, relax.”

  “You know my tendencies better than most.”

  “We all have our weaknesses. But our system exists to provide support to those in need.”

  “No one does it alone. Behind every able man, there are always other able men.”

  Gao laughed. “You’ve been studying proverbs.”

  “One must, to keep up with you.”

  “Touché, my friend. Is there anything else?”

  “I’d like to use some of the proceeds to see if we can get more qualified surgeons, maybe from Russia.”

  “We don’t need Russia’s help. They’d steal our idea.”

  “Wherever you think is best. We need help with the pipeline we have.”

  “The Venezuelans have many doctors in Cuba. We could force them. It would be cheap, and the surgeons would be happy to escape Cuba.” Gao laughed.

  “Indeed.”

  “How many you want?”

  “I need to give it some thought. Do you mind if I get back to you?”

  “Take your time, my friend. We’ll talk soon.”

  Shu hung up. He needed help, but Venezuela and Cuba were medical backwaters. He didn’t want their surgeons operating on his patients.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Cory rushed into the apartment. He went into the studio, took his guitar out of the case and hung it up. He went into the kitchen.

  “We got to get going.”

  “It’s okay. She’s going to do the appointment via Zoom.”

  “On video? That’s crazy.”

  “Ava doesn’t want to leave the apartment.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s scared.”

  “But we’re just going to Dr. Bruno. She was just there.”

  “I know. She called Dr. Bruno herself, and Bruno suggested Zoom.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “It’s a good sign that she took the initiative to call Bruno. It’s the first thing she’s done since it happened.”

  “We can’t let her seclude herself. It will make it harder to get back out there when this is over. You shouldn’t have let her change it.”

  “What was I supposed to do? She needs to see Dr. Bruno. We can’t drag her there if she doesn’t want to go.”

  “I know. But going there has been the only time she’s left the house since she stopped seeing regular doctors.”

  “I don’t like it. Let’s see how the visit goes, and then I’m calling Bruno. I want to see what she says about all this.”

  “Tell her Ava doesn’t even want to leave her room. I tried to get her to do the Zoom call in the studio, but she wants to do it in her room.”

  “This is no good. It’s got to end.”

  * * *

  Cory was entering his handwritten composition into notation software when his phone vibrated. Dr. Bruno was returning his call.

  “Hello, Mr. Lupinski.”

  “Hi, Doc, how did the Zoom call go?”

  “She is making progress in some areas.”

  “What about the suicide thoughts?”

  “I’m pleased that she seems to realize that doesn’t solve anything. I believe it’s not a threat at this time.”

  “That’s super news. We were worried crazy about her.”

  “That’s understandable. We’ll continue our work together, and I believe she’ll continue to progress.”

  “It’s not going to be another Zoom, is it?”

  “Yes. Why do you appear to be negative about it?”

  “Because Ava never leaves the apartment. She barely leaves her room. It’s not good.”

  “It’s rooted in Ava’s fear of her safety. She’s fixated on what happened and the potential threat these people pose to her.”

  “But that’s crazy.”

  “Not the best choice of words, Mr. Lupinski.”

  “Sorry, you know what I mean. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Not to us. However, the trauma Ava experienced has heightened the fears we rationalize away every day.”

  “If she stays locked up in her room all the time, it’s going to get harder and harder for her to return to a normal life.”

  “It’s a process, Mr. Lupinski. Isolating herself has tamped down her fears enough to take ending her own life off the table.”

  “That’s good, that’s great, but what about getting back to her life?”

  “We’ll continue our work
; it may be slow going at times, but maybe we’ll get lucky and the authorities will catch the perpetrators.”

  “You really think that would help?”

  “Absolutely. Removing that threat, real or imagined, would go a long way toward making Ava comfortable in resuming her old life.”

  Cory thanked Bruno and hung up. He opened the studio door and motioned to Linda. She hustled over.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I spoke to Bruno. The good thing is, she said Ava’s made progress and doesn’t think there’s a suicide threat.”

  “Thank God.”

  “I know. But she said Ava is still paranoid these guys are coming back to get her. She said that’s why she won’t leave the house.”

  “Poor thing. Can you imagine, a teenager afraid to go out? When I was her age, I wanted to be out as much as I could.”

  “Now you see why we can’t wait for the police?”

  * * *

  Cory popped his earbuds in and hit play. He’d created an audio file of two men from Belize. Both had the same timbre voices. He listened closely, even visualizing himself imitating them talking.

  Cory had transcribed scores of solos from players he loved, copying the notes and inflections of the soloist. He’d sung harmonies in all kinds of musical settings. He was confident he’d be able to memorize the accents quickly, internalize them, and speak as fluidly as a native.

  Eyes closed, Cory listened to a loop for five minutes straight. He forced his inner ear to isolate the nuances in the accent. Before stopping the recording, Cory used another musical tool. He spoke the words in his head, hearing himself as he did notes when composing.

  Believing he had it, he clicked on his mic. Cory repeated the words the men from Belize said. He looked at the sound waves the audio program recorded of his voice.

  He compared it to those of the men. Cory smiled. They were a close match. He considered it a good sign and reached under the desk. Cory pulled out two boxes and carefully read the directions.

  Two hours later, Cory put on his jacket. He cracked the door open. Linda was nowhere in sight. Cory slipped out of the apartment, walking to the subway.

  He listened to the voice recordings as the crowded train made its way into Manhattan. At Cortland Street, a woman in her sixties got onto his car. Cory stopped the recording and stood, trying out his newfound broken English: “Ma’am, you can seat here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  Cory smiled. The accent was perfect. He played the recording until the Fifty-Ninth Street station came up.

  Exiting the subway, he looked forward to checking out the spot Black set to meet at. He never visited an indoor public space. Cory pushed through the revolving doors of a skyscraper into IBM Plaza.

  A pair of birds flying overhead caught his attention. When he pulled his earbuds out, he heard other birds chirping and singing. Light flooded into the airy space. Cory guessed it was five stories tall.

  Cory headed for a seating area by a clump of trees. He sat, eyes on the door for Mr. Black. Cory checked the time. It was ten minutes before two. The operative always arrived early for a meeting. Where was he?

  Chapter Forty-Five

  A minute later, Black spilled out of the revolving door. He stepped aside, surveying the space. Cory waited until Black had his head turned and walked toward him.

  Cory brushed by Black, and when he turned his head, the operative was looking right at him.

  “Fooled you, huh?”

  “It took me a second.”

  “Pretty good, right?”

  He nodded toward a couple of chairs in the corner. “The accent is good.”

  “How about the skin color?”

  “Not bad, if it holds up.”

  “They say it’ll last two to three weeks.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “The manufacturer.”

  “You know them?”

  “No. Why?”

  “You want to put your life in their hands?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then test it. Make sure it lasts.”

  “How am I going to do that? What would my family say?”

  “Work it out. You can’t take chances.”

  “I’ll tell them I’m doing an audition for a, oh no, I’m doing a music video. They’ll buy that. We’ll be stranded on a deserted island.”

  “Where’d you get the teeth?”

  “Makeup-FX. They do all the Hollywood stuff. Looks good, right?”

  “Yeah. But if someone like me is looking for you, they’d see through all this.”

  “But they’re not.”

  Black nodded. “Still, I’d work on changing up your gait.”

  “Like a limp?”

  “Nothing too obvious. A little bounce in your step is all you need.”

  “No problem. You talk to your guy at the border?”

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  “Do I look like I’m not serious?”

  Black pointed to his temple. “I’m talking about in here”—he jabbed a thumb at his chest—“not here.”

  “Look, I can’t deny what they did to my daughter isn’t a factor. It’s huge, especially since Ava’s scared out of her mind that they’re coming back for her. But don’t forget, I was making noise about this from the beginning. It’s why they came after us in the first place.”

  “There’s a good chance you’ll never see your family again.”

  “I know that.”

  “You have the eight grand?”

  Cory dug into his backpack, pulling out a brown bag. “It’s all there.”

  “Three weeks from today you need to be in Eagle Pass, Texas. It’s a hundred and fifty miles from San Antonio.”

  “Texas? I thought I was going into Mexico.”

  “I wanted to avoid any problems with the border. Once you’re in Eagle Pass, check into the Hotel Santa Rosa under Chester Musa.”

  “I got to write this down.”

  “Don’t. Memorize it. And anyone asks, you’re fleeing the George Street Bloods. A drug deal gone bad.”

  Cory repeated the names of the town, hotel, his alias, and the gang.

  “I think I got it. What do I do there?”

  “They’ll come for you. You’ll know it when they do.”

  “Anything else?”

  Black stood. “That’s it.

  As he watched Black walk out, Cory cycled the names through his head, committing them to memory. He jotted a note in his phone to help him remember and headed to Donny’s house.

  His visit was twofold: wash off the bronzing agent and tell his friend he was going to be away for a week or two. Cory couldn’t tell Donny what he was up to but needed him to reassure Linda that he was safe.

  Donny would press for details, especially when he’d make him promise to take care of his family if something happened to him.

  * * *

  Linda was sleeping on the couch when Cory came home. He put his guitar away and went to shut the TV when she said, “How was the session? It ran late.”

  “It was good, Donny was on it. This kid Gunnery has some good ideas, but he likes to experiment a little too much.”

  “That gets expensive.”

  “The label is letting him do what he wants after his debut charted.”

  “Must be nice.”

  “Doesn’t appeal to me anymore. I like going in, laying it down, and coming home. I couldn’t imagine going on the road again.”

  “We’re glad you gave it up.”

  “How was Ava today?”

  “Pretty much the same. She came out, grabbed her dinner, and went back in. Said she was watching a movie.”

  “She’s not going to get back to normal till those bastards are out of the picture.”

  “Maybe Dr. Bruno can make progress with her.”

  “I’m sick of depending on everybody else. Black and me are going to nail these bastards.”

  “This could
backfire. They’ll come after us, all of us.”

  “They won’t know I’m even involved. Black’s got contacts, and really, all I’m doing is paying to make sure we, I mean Black, gets inside.”

  “You should tell the police about this. They do undercover stuff all the time.”

  “I wish I could, but it would take them a year or more to get inside. We can’t wait that long with Ava.”

  “But how is Black going to get in so fast?”

  “He’s got contacts with a guy who is supplying them donors.”

  “Tell the police then.”

  “I did, but they said they’d have to vet the whole thing and it would take just as long. This is a south of the border thing.”

  “They’re smuggling people up for their organs?”

  “Yeah. It means the cops have to get the State Department, Homeland Security, the FBI, and who knows who else in the mix.”

  “I can’t believe all of them have got to be involved.”

  “You see what I’m talking about? We’d be lucky if they got anywhere in a year, and by then, the Chinese probably will have moved onto another supply point.”

  “They’ll never catch these guys.”

  “We got a chance to get them now. We can’t pass it up.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Cory backed up his phone to the cloud and looked through his backpack a final time. He wheeled his overnight bag into the kitchen. Tommy was playing with his phone.

  “I’m getting ready to head to the airport.”

  “When you coming back, Dad?”

  “Should be two to three days. If the shoot goes well, I’ll be home before the weekend.”

  “Okay.”

  Linda said, “You got everything you need?”

  “Yep.”

  “Where’s your guitar?”

  “They’re going to provide one. It’s just going to be a prop ’cause we’re not really playing.”

  “You’re faking it, Dad?”

  Cory smiled. “You know what I say, fake it till you make it.”

  “Yeah, it’s all in your head, right?”

  “You’re learning, Tommy.” He kissed his son’s head. “Let me say goodbye to Ava.”

  Cory knocked on Ava’s door. After a second knock, he swung the door open. The TV was on but the sound was muted. It didn’t matter, his daughter was staring at the ceiling.