‘Yes.’
‘If they come near us, aim for the tyres. The scope will give you the edge.’
‘Right. Makes sense.’
‘I also have a handgun. Here,’ Kobo opened the glove box and gave his Beretta to Dr Rosen, ‘you’ve used one before,’ he said, smiling. Dr Rosen nodded. ‘I know all the back ways around here,’ continued Kobo. He turned off the road leading out of the camp and headed for the bush. ‘With a bit of luck, they’ll never find us.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ said Dr Rosen, checking the gun. ‘Let’s get out of here!’
An hour later, when they thought they were safe and about to cross the border into Kenya, something caught Jack’s eye. Movement. ‘There,’ he shouted, pointing into the bush. A jeep was coming towards them out of the trees, obviously trying to cut them off. Kobo turned left into a dirt track and accelerated. Then gunfire erupted from behind, a couple of bullets hitting the rear fenders.
‘Keep your heads down, guys,’ shouted Kobo, racing towards a creek. ‘Jack, aim for the tyres. I must slow down to get across here.’
Jack turned around, steadied himself and positioned his gun, the powerful scope giving him a clear view. ‘Stop the car now,’ he shouted.
Kobo hit the brakes and the Land Rover skidded to a halt.
Jack took a deep breath, closed one eye and kept staring through the scope. ‘Here they come,’ he whispered, watching the jeep race towards him. Remembering his days in Afghanistan as a war correspondent a few years earlier, where survival often depended upon how well you could handle a gun, he carefully lined up the hairs in the scope until the left front tyre was right in the middle. Then, holding his breath, he pulled the trigger. ‘Got ya,’ he whispered, and lowered the gun.
The tyre exploded, ripped apart by the powerful bullet. The jeep lurched to the left, hit a small rock, became almost airborne and began to roll down an embankment towards the creek below.
61
It was already dark by the time they drove into Dadaab, exhausted, but strangely elated after their close escape. An adrenaline high, Dr Rosen had called it.
‘How was it?’ asked Lola, handing Jack a glass of water.
‘You won’t believe it when I tell you.’ Jack gulped down the water and held out his empty cup for more.
‘Why am I not surprised?’ said Lola, smiling. ‘You’re an adventure … junkie!’
‘How’s Tristan?’
‘I haven’t seen him all day. He went off with Ifra this morning to explore the camp. They’ve become great buddies.’
‘There’s more danger here than we realise,’ said Jack, lowering his voice. ‘And we are right in the middle of it. We have to be careful.’
‘Oh?’
‘Dr Rosen thinks it best if we leave in the morning. She seems really worried, especially about Dr Gaal. There’s a supply plane going back to Nairobi. She’s coming with us. She has to talk to someone in MSF urgently …’
‘You also look worried, Jack,’ said Lola. She stood up, walked over to Jack and began to massage his stiff neck. ‘Not like you. What’s wrong?’
‘At times I feel a little lost,’ said Jack. Remembering his conversation with Dr Rosen early that morning about how far man had come in such a short time. He looked up at the stars. ‘What we discovered in that camp just across the border from here is scary. I feel for Dr Rosen. She puts her whole life on the line here helping others, yet the ugly side of life is never far away, undermining everything she holds dear and believes in.’
‘That’s a bit morbid, isn’t it?’ said Lola. She bent down and kissed Jack on the back of the neck. ‘Don’t worry, Jack, you’ll bounce back, you’ll see. Guys like you always do.’
‘Perhaps … But if you’d seen what I have …’
‘I had a call from Hanna today,’ said Lola, changing the subject. ‘The boat is fantastic and they are on their way. Boston in a few days’ time.’
‘And Isis?’
‘In good spirits, apparently.’
‘At least that’s good news.’
‘Snap out of it, Jack,’ said Lola, biting Jack on the ear.
Jack heard his satellite phone ring somewhere in the distance, the familiar ringtone a welcome intrusion into his dark thoughts. Because the battery had almost gone flat during the day, he had left the phone in the tent to recharge. Jack stood up and hurried inside to answer it.
‘Marcus, what’s up?’ said Jack, pleased to hear the familiar voice on the other end of the crackling line. ‘Any luck?’
‘We’ve managed to track down Hoffmeister through his lawyers. He’s fallen on hard times and is in some kind of nursing home for the poor in Buenos Aires.’
‘At least he’s still around. And …?’
‘The word is, he knows about the brother and can throw some light on the subject.’
‘That’s fantastic!’ Jack almost shouted.
‘Don’t get too excited. You know how he behaved last time. He wound us up like puppets and then dropped us without hesitation.’
‘Sure, but …’
‘He wants money. Lots of it.’
‘How much money?’
‘A hundred grand …’
‘Wow!’
‘He’s obviously desperate. But wait, there’s more …’
‘Tell me.’
‘He will only talk to Jana. He really liked her – remember? If she brings the money, he’ll talk. He even hinted at some documents and gave us a clue. No doubt to whet our appetite.’
‘What clue?’
‘Curiously, just one word.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Africa.’
Momentarily taken aback, Jack didn’t reply. ‘Are you still there?’ said Marcus. ‘Does this mean anything to you?’
‘Sure does! Look Marcus, this is really important. Could Jana go, do you think?’
‘What, just fly to South America with a hundred grand in her handbag? What kind of client do you have?’
‘A very rich one. Stay on the line, Marcus, I’ll get some instructions.’
‘I thought you were in some refugee camp in Kenya.’
‘I am.’
‘You never cease to amaze, Jack. I’ll wait …’
Jack hurried out of the tent and spoke to Lola, who instantly authorised the expenses involved.
‘Go ahead, Marcus! Ask Jana to take the first available flight to Buenos Aires and find out all she can about Steinberger’s brother. This is urgent! We’ll just have to take our chances with our slippery Don Antonio,’ said Jack, ‘but if he does know something, we could be on a winner. It’s worth the risk. Just call me and tell me what you need, and we’ll arrange everything from here. And tell Jana I owe her! And thank you! Great work, Marcus. I owe you too!’
‘Stay safe, Jack,’ said Carrington.
‘I’ll try.’
Jack switched off the phone and kissed it, the exuberant, almost childlike gesture bringing a smile to Lola’s face. ‘See what I mean?’ she said. ‘All it takes is a phone call, and you’re back on top of the world.’
62
The phone call came in the early hours of the morning, but Carlotta decided to wake her boss immediately. She knew he would never forgive her if she didn’t.
Macbeth, a light sleeper, sensed someone was in the room and propped himself up by his elbows. ‘Something wrong, Carlotta?’ he asked, instantly awake.
‘A phone call from Mogadishu. It’s urgent.’ Carlotta handed Macbeth the phone.
‘What is it, Johannes?’
‘We have a problem.’
‘Oh? What kind of problem?’
‘An incident in Alpha Camp.’
‘What happened?’
‘Someone from Médecins Sans Frontières nosed around. Made enquiries …’
‘And?’
‘There was a shootout.’
‘Jesus, Johannes; the guys should know better!’
‘The south has always been difficult to control …’
> ‘What else?’
‘They got away by boat. We think some of the local pirates were involved.’
‘What else?’
‘Our guys captured one of them, a local doctor …’
‘Come on, Johannes, this is like pulling teeth!’
‘Their interrogation techniques aren’t very sophisticated, but they did get some helpful information out of him before he—’
‘Is he dead?’ interrupted Macbeth impatiently.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Not very smart.’
‘No.’
‘So, what do we know?’
‘A doctor working for MSF, a European woman and a couple of men, one of them also European, came to the camp and asked questions …’
‘Do we know who they are?’
‘We are working on it.’
‘Do we know where they are?’
‘Yes. We believe they returned to Dadaab, where they came from.’
At least that’s good news, thought Macbeth. We have people there.
‘How much do they know?’
‘Not clear. The questioning didn’t get quite that far …’
‘I want you to drop everything and take personal charge of the matter. Is that clear?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Go down there straight away. Use your contacts in Dadaab and find out more. I want to know everything about them; who they are, what they are doing, who they talk to, what they have for breakfast – everything! Understood?’
‘Yes.’
‘This has top priority. Pull out all stops. You know what to do. Results, remember? And keep me informed, day or night.’
‘Understood.’
Macbeth pressed the bell next to his bed. Carlotta appeared almost at once. ‘Ask the captain to prepare Calypso to set sail immediately and send Jan in.’
‘Straight away.’
Feeling better, Macbeth lifted himself out of the bed and into his wheelchair. ‘I’ll be outside. Early breakfast.’
‘I’ll arrange it at once.’
Macbeth loved the time just before dawn and always felt somehow liberated out in the open air. Looking at the sea and the stars gave him a sense of freedom he rarely experienced sitting in his wheelchair. The movement of the ship also added to this seductive illusion and was one of the main reasons he lived on the ship. He also liked the anonymity and flexibility it gave him in conducting his complex affairs.
So close and now this, thought Macbeth, clenching his fists in frustration. He was certain that the quest that had begun seventy years ago with a chance discovery and an inspired idea by a man he had held dear, was tantalisingly close to reaching its destination.
The data from the Somali camps strongly suggested this. Incidents of recovery from terminal cancer were definitely on the rise; tumours were retreating and in some cases, disappearing altogether. However, the same baffling question remained: why? Why did patients suffering from the same cancer respond so differently to the drug? Why did a lucky few survive when most of the others died? To date, his army of scientists working on this project had been unable to come up with an answer. All the sophisticated modifications and refinements to the drug had so far been unsuccessful.
There was no doubt that the drug – an extract derived from the root of a rare jungle plant – did work spectacularly, but only in a few cases. So far, the many millions spent on research and brainpower by Blackburn Pharmaceuticals to find the answer, had failed. However, Macbeth was convinced that Professor K had come close to cracking this vital question just before he died and that his successor, Professor Delacroix, would do so soon. The challenge here was to secure the prize for Blackburn Pharmaceuticals, regardless of the cost involved, human or otherwise.
Feeling better, Macbeth watched the crew in the wheelhouse prepare the ship for departure. A new journey was a new beginning, and a new beginning brought challenges. For Macbeth, challenges were the stuff that made being so devastatingly disabled bearable and kept him motivated and alive.
Van Cleef arrived moments later. Woken by Carlotta, he had jumped out of his bunk, put on his tracksuit and was reporting for duty. Macbeth looked at the young warrior standing before him and smiled. ‘Jan, I need you now more than ever,’ he said. ‘Look at it this way: we are in the middle of a campaign we must win at all cost …’
Van Cleef felt a familiar wave of excitement well up from deep within. It started in his gut and then tingled through every fibre of his body, making his muscles throb and yearn for action. It was a feeling he knew well, and its meaning was clear: he was about to go into battle.
‘We have a serious problem in Somalia. We are about to sail for Mogadishu. I can no longer stay here to take care of things, but you can. You will be my eyes and ears here in Sydney. Work closely with Paulus. Needless to say, we’ll be in regular contact, and you’ll receive your instructions from me in the usual manner. Understood?’
‘Absolutely! You can rely on me.’
‘I know I can, just as I can rely on Johannes, who is already on his way to deal with the problem in Somalia.’
Johannes, Paulus and Jan had been brothers-in-arms for years. They had a bond only men who had saved each other from certain death many times over could share.
‘You can count on Johannes,’ said Jan.
‘I know that too.’
‘Now go and prepare your kit. We’ll drop you off before we sail.’ Macbeth held out his hand. This was a rare gesture and he could see that Jan kept staring at him, a startled look on his face. For what seemed a long moment, Jan stood perfectly still. Then he stepped forward like a soldier about to be decorated by his commanding officer, and shook his boss’ hand.
63
To her surprise, Alexandra was beginning to feel quite at home in her lab at the Gordon. To share the same space her friend and mentor had worked in, and died in, just a short while ago, created not only a connection to the past, but a strange sense of continuity reaching into the present. When she added Professor K’s handwritten notes to this, the sensation became even more real. There were moments when she felt his presence so intensely that she had to stop reading and look over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t standing behind her.
Many would have found retracing a dead man’s thoughts and ideas disconcerting, intimidating even, but Alexandra didn’t find it so. She had made a promise to a dear friend and intended to keep it.
Not only were the state-of-the-art facilities at the institute a pleasure to work with, but the Illumina HiSeq X Ten system available at the Gordon was the single most important tool helping her understand Professor K’s work. Invented by Professors Balasubramanian and Klenerman of Cambridge University, Illumina dye sequencing had revolutionised medical research.
But the real breakthrough had only come a few months ago with the introduction of ‘Capture Sequencing’, a new gene sequencing technology. For the first time, Professor K had a unique window at his disposal, which allowed him to peer into the remote recesses of the human genome at a much higher resolution than ever before. Only a short time ago, this would have been considered science fiction.
Step-by-step, evidence supporting his revolutionary ideas was at last beginning to emerge out of the vast body of genes not coding for proteins that make up ninety-eight point five per cent of the human genome. Sadly, Professor K had run out of time. The Emperor of Darkness got to him just before he could put his hands on the prize that had eluded him for so long.
Alexandra realised that Professor K had been on a hunt for something quite unique at the time he died. He was stalking certain non-coding RNAs hidden somewhere in the genome, which he believed held the key to the breakthrough he had so desperately hoped for. He had discovered a number of long, non-coding RNAs that acted as oncogenes, and a growing number of these oncogenes appeared to be tumour suppressors. And somehow – in a way Alexandra couldn’t quite understand yet – it all kept coming back to non-coding RNAs that could switch other genes on and off,
as it had in the Abramowitz twins.
The Lena Abramowitz genome sequencing was well underway. Akhil, her assistant, had attached Lena’s DNA molecules to primers on a slide. The next step was amplification of the DNA to allow the production of local colonies, which would prepare the way for the unique clusters technology to do its work.
However, the final results of Lena’s genome sequencing were still almost a week away. This gave Alexandra time to immerse herself in the complexities and challenges of Professor K’s notebooks and research papers.
Alexandra was beginning to make serious progress. Her hunch about the Leibniz notations scribbled in the margins had been correct. As she had suspected, the numbers turned out to be a code identifying the tissue samples stored at Gordon that Professor K had been working on. She was certain they were the signposts and markers he had left behind to show her the way. Alexandra was hoping they would ultimately lead her to the hidden genes he had been looking for, and the expected breakthrough he had mentioned just before he died.
There was more good news. Alexandra’s much applauded talk the other day had raised her profile and standing at Gordon and had made her colleagues far more approachable. Alexandra knew that the most valuable respect – and the most difficult to earn – was the respect of your peers. Suddenly, Alexandra found herself included in meetings and activities, both professional and personal. The ice appeared to have melted.
However, the single most important development that had raised her spirits and made her feel at ease was Carrington’s calm, analytical assessment of her precarious position vis-à-vis Blackburn Pharmaceuticals, and his sound advice of how to deal with it. In a way, Carrington and Jana had taken charge of the situation. They had both attended the meeting with the police the day before. Carrington had prepared Alexandra well. Instead of feeling vulnerable and finding the interview intimidating, she had approached it with confidence. She told her amazing story convincingly and provided information in a manner that was both impressive and believable.
They all thought the meeting had gone well, and the DPP’s personal involvement certainly had its desired effect. Instructions from the top always make a difference. The senior officer placed in charge of the case had assigned one of his best men – Detective Sergeant Pasquale Moretti – to liaise with Alexandra and act as her contact point.
The Hidden Genes of Professor K: A Medical Mystery Thriller (Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 3) Page 32