There was a delayed reaction as Sue’s mouth opened, but no words were uttered. Then her eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered. She began to sob.
The doctor continued to talk, but I’d stopped listening. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut and my legs were going to give way.
I stared at Sue and her at me. “I’m so sorry, my love.” I wiped strands of hair from her face and embraced her.
If we’d known Sue was pregnant, she never would’ve gone to the compound. She’d have been safe. We could’ve had a baby … together.
Sue held onto me as hard as I held her, and we cried for our lost child.
INTERLOGUE 11
June 1, 2003
Carlo chose to decant the 1973 Rioja Alavesa from his family cellar. A full glass sat on the wrought iron table in front of him, along with a monogrammed pad of paper, his personalized Mont Blanc Masterpiece pen, a plate of homemade chorizo and cabrales cheese, and a cordless phone. The grapevine-covered trellis provided shade from the afternoon sun. The Mediterranean glistened in the distance below.
His family estate always gave him solace and peace. Carlo needed an inspiring place to think, and this was his favorite. He had everything he required; mind you, a second bottle would likely be needed before all the decisions were made.
He leaned back in his midnight-blue chair and adjusted the yellow cushion under him. Raising his glass, Carlo gazed past the vineyard to the sea. “To Hendrick Junior. You killed your father and ordered Jack Carter’s murder. And now you are also dead. Good riddance. I hope your father and Jack find you in hell and seek revenge on your soul.”
Carlo had taken Günter and Dale Samson, and they’d left Colombia on his jet as quickly as they could. He’d learned about Hendrick’s death from Chief Inspector Plante when they’d touched down at Heathrow the night before. He’d handed Samson over to Plante. Then he’d shipped Günter back to Oxford, telling him to hurry up and finish his studies; Naintosa and Pharmalin would be there for him when he was ready. From there he’d proceeded home to the safety of Valencia.
Carlo brought the wine to his lips and took a lingering taste. “Mmm.” He raised the glass higher for the second toast. “To my soon-to-be-departed friend, Davis: you are a master of transformation, with the ability to manipulate the world to our will. Salute.”
The phone rang, and Carlo answered it with his free hand.
“The Colombians are not happy,” said Chief Inspector Plante on the other end of the line.
“They’ll get over it,” Carlo said. “We have copies of all the records. The lab was destroyed and the rest of the compound can be abandoned. Let the Colombian government clean up the mess.”
“I’m not the one you should be telling,” Plante said.
“I’ll make the appropriate call to the president,” Carlo said. “You know, your associates didn’t help at all. They just stood there and left right after me.”
“They weren’t supposed to help, only provide information. No one must know of their involvement. That would jeopardize future collaboration with the CIA.”
“What involvement?”
“Exactly.”
No, I meant they didn’t do anything. He let it go, not bothering to verbalize his disappointment any further. “And Barnes and his band of rebels?”
“They’re still in Florencia. I have local authorities watching their movements, but I don’t see that anything more needs to be done.”
“Interesting how none of them were killed.” Carlo swirled the wine in the glass. “They should’ve never escaped the compound alive.”
There was some static on the line when Plante spoke. “I think that was for the best.”
“We must continue to monitor their movement,” Carlo said. “Make sure to include Lee Donald. He could want revenge for Jack Carter’s death and may not be satisfied when he finds out everyone involved is deceased.”
“Yes, agreed.”
“Where is Dr. Smith?” Carlo reached for a piece of cheese. “He needs a new lab and must get back to work.”
“He was last seen with Barnes’s group,” Plante said. “Mainly, Dr. Popov.”
“Damn.” Carlo sighed. “I suspected he was going to change sides.”
“How is Davis?” Plante asked.
“Not good but stable,” Carlo said. “He and his physician have flown back to New York where he can be with his family.”
“What about Schmidt’s and Lovemark’s companies?” Plante inquired.
“That is what I have to figure out now.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Carlo put the phone down and reached for some sausage to go with the cheese. He washed the food down by draining the rest of the wine in the glass. Then he poured more.
Taking the pen in hand, he began to write.
Russell Norman, Davis’s second in command, would take over the operations of GM Comm until he found a suitable buyer from within the Club.
Günter would eventually take over Naintosa and Pharmalin, but realistically that was ten years away. Carlo needed to get interim leaders. He didn’t want to do it himself but would be on the board of directors he would form. This time it was probably best to have one CEO per company so as not to overwhelm a single individual. Ivgeni Svetlov’s brother would probably take over Pharmalin, and he had three other potentials for Naintosa. Plus they needed new head scientists. He had a few men in mind and wrote their names down.
It was time to call a special meeting of the Club. And maybe Tom Crane could be brought into the fold—he did have a special expertise.
Carlo put the pen down, ate more chorizo and cheese, then took his wine glass in hand and leaned back in his chair. It was up to him to decide what to do with the population control plan. That was the part that would take the most amount of thought … and drinking.
The focus would have to shift to containment. From now on the main resources would be needed to protect the good seed and undamaged land, and to develop the cancer cure. He’d have the Plycite gene destroyed—it wasn’t working anyway, and he didn’t want an even bigger mess.
Carlo looked east toward his vineyard and then south down toward the fields. The estate had withstood damage through the Carlist Wars, Spanish Revolution, and two World Wars, yet its biggest threat to date was glyphosate and genetically engineered seed. Of which I helped facilitate. The contaminated areas would not grow crops again. The irony was not lost on him.
He felt a sharp stabbing pain in his lower abdomen, like intense gas trapped and needing desperately to escape. Carlo gave the plate of food in front of him an accusing glare and pushed it away.
CHAPTER 39
June 4, 2003
Here; let me help you get out.” I ran around to the passenger side of Enrique’s BMW and opened the door for Sue.
“I’m okay. You don’t have to be so …” She cringed when she twisted and grabbed the bandaged area around her midsection.
“Just enjoy the attention while it lasts.” I took her free hand and helped her out.
Sue always was beat up worse than the rest of us because of her fearlessness and never holding back. But those qualities endeared me to her, and I’d never want her to change.
While she’d been in the hospital, we’d talked of our grief over the loss of our child that had been growing inside her. The feelings were still raw, and she’d spent long moments in silent contemplation, often crying. I vowed to be there for her.
Ivan and Dr. Smith had pulled up behind us in a rental car. Everyone had been wary about Dr. Smith staying at the house, but his constant reinforcement about dedicating the rest of his life to curing the colon cancer forced us to relent; that and Ivan’s reassurance that he trusted Dr. Smith and would watch over him. Ivan needed his help.
Monica stood by a planter holding a shovel and called Enrique over to help her as soon as we’d arrived.
Mike was outside near the front door having a smoke. He seemed absorbed in thought.
<
br /> As we approached, Sue said, “I know I’ve thanked you already, but if you hadn’t shot Schilling in that second, Nick and I would both be dead.”
“It’s hard to explain.” There was conflict in Mike’s expression. “I’m proud that I was able to pull the trigger and hit who I’d aimed at to save you guys, but still I killed another human.”
“I know how you feel,” I said. “It goes against our nature. We’re writers. People like Jorge, Lorraine, and Lee have been trained for those types of situations; we haven’t.”
Sue gave Mike a hug, and I placed my hand on his back.
All we could do was keep thanking him, to reinforce that the action shouldn’t be something he punished himself for. We hoped that he’d let us be there to help him work through it.
Lee and Lorraine had stuck around the hospital the last few days, just in case anyone from Naintosa’s security came to silence us or any of the victims of the experiments. We were fortunate no such encounters had occurred.
Ivan and Dr. Smith had instructed the hospital’s doctors on what was wrong with the sick people from the compound and how they could be helped. Specialists were called in from Bogota to study those with tumors, lesions, and various stages of colon cancer. That brought around the authorities, who interviewed Dr. Smith. He fully complied, and even though they knew he wasn’t in charge of the operation and wasn’t deemed responsible, they still wanted him to stay in Florencia for now.
The victims were treated with compassion, and as word spread that they were at the hospital, we found out that many of them had been kidnapped when relatives came to find them.
We were interviewed by detectives as well. We were honest about trying to get information and getting caught. Jorge and Lee said the fire in the lab and the dead guards happened as a result of them trying to rescue us. Sue and I told them Schilling shot Schmidt by mistake when we were trying to escape, and Mike admitted to shooting Schilling just before he had intended to kill us. They had to have known that something much bigger had been going on and we’d been the catalysts of exposing it. When I tried to explain the population control plan, the detective interviewing me seemed more concerned about when we’d all be leaving Colombia. In the end none of us had been detained, which was somewhat surprising.
The evening after the ordeal at the compound, Enrique and Jorge had snuck back to take a look. They said the place was swarming with military. There was no sign of any inhabitants remaining. The lab had burned to the ground, but the section where the offices were was still intact—that’s where we’d been held.
“You leave in the morning?” Monica poked her head into the bedroom as I was helping Sue lie down.
“Yes,” I said. “Thank you for taking us into your home, and for your hospitality.”
Ivan would be staying as long as he felt he was needed, and until the authorities gave permission for Dr. Smith to leave.
Jorge was going to go visit his daughter and parents in Ibague, a four-and-a-half-hour drive away.
The rest of us were flying from Florencia to Bogota and then onto where we were planning to settle.
Sue and I had promised to keep updating the website and promoting it to the media that would listen. Mike also agreed to write about and share our experiences from his perspective.
We didn’t feel security was necessary now, but those of us whose role was protection vowed to be there if ever needed.
With all the experiences we’d shared, separating was emotional for us all. Our bonds would last the rest of our lives.
EPILOGUE
June 30, 2003
This was my favorite part of the day. The sun would soon set over the mountain, and the air was clean and calm. A large raven sat in the nearest tree at the shoreline, as if watching over me. One water skier made turns in the cove, and three boats sped along the open lake to get home before dark. It wasn’t quite high season, so there wasn’t the amount of activity we were told there would be between mid-July and Labor Day.
I sat in a white plastic folding chair and held an e-mail from that morning that I had printed. We’d set two chairs out when we arrived five days ago and spent a considerable amount of our time on the wharf. The water was still cold, but the days were already plenty warm.
After each going to visit our parents, Sue and I had spent a couple of weeks half-heartedly looking for a place to buy in Seattle. We realized that we didn’t feel ready to settle down there yet—eventually, but not now.
During a call with Ivan, he told us that the cabin in Christina Lake, British Columbia, might be available. The couple who owned it were elderly and couldn’t climb up and down the stairs anymore. They were the same people who watched over Ivan’s home in Nelson when he was away. We decided to make them an offer of renting the cabin for the summer and buying it at the end if we liked it. The couple had agreed.
Sue said she didn’t have a problem with the fact that there would be memories for me about spending those winter months there with Morgan. I now welcomed those memories—they were of adventure and discovery. Of course, I still missed Morgan, but so much had happened since she’d passed, and Sue was my future now.
Sue and I had to admit that we’d loved each other for a long time. There was no point in either of us trying to hide or deny it anymore. Plus, with all we’d been through, we had each other to deal with the trauma. Sue and I were meant to be together going forward, baggage and all.
Sue was told after the surgery to stop her internal bleeding that over time she’d still be able to have children. For us, logically, with the potential purge of so many people in the coming years, it didn’t seem right to bring more life into the world. But emotionally, the loss of Sue’s pregnancy had been devastating and had revealed that, deep down, we wanted a child together. It was good to still have the choice in the future.
I could hear Sue coming down the ramp onto the wharf and turned to her. “Did you check for new e-mails?”
She’d put on a T-shirt and shorts over her bikini. I’d noticed that ever since the surgery she’d absently pull at the bottom of her shirts to make sure the scar was covered, even though it was just below her bikini-line. She passed me a Kootenay Ale before sitting on the other plastic chair. “Rose will arrive in Oslo tomorrow. They’re really going to shack up.”
I smiled. “That’ll make it easier for Ivan. They deserve to be happy together. And he’ll have someone to talk to when Dr. Smith is driving him nuts.”
“Not to mention her cooking.” Sue twisted the cap off the bottle she’d brought for herself.
“But no response from Ivan about the Da Silva e-mail?” I held up the folded sheet of paper.
“Not yet.”
Ivan and Dr. Smith had been able to leave Colombia a week after we’d left. They were still in constant contact with the Colombian oncologists who’d set up a ward and lab to help in the pursuit of the colon cancer cure.
Dr. Smith had been welcomed into the Northern European Council for Ethical Farming’s lab but watched until they were positive he’d changed sides. Ivan, after spending time with Dr. Smith, had found him challenging and stubborn—he liked having his own way and didn’t play well with others.
Sue leaned back in the chair and took a drink of her beer. “I heard from Lorraine as well.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that Lorraine and Lee would get together.”
“I saw it right away.” Sue smiled. “You’ve always been oblivious to those things.”
“I guess.”
“Lorraine said that Lee feels he owes it to Jack to find out who hired Bail to kill him.”
“Maybe Jorge will help,” I said. “He’s in Dallas too.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“If it really was Schmidt V or even Lovemark, he’d be too late.”
“I think it’s the knowing that’s most important.” Sue gave a tug down at the end of her shirt.
We hadn’t found anything in the media about the death of Schmidt. There had been a
few small articles in the Colombian press about a fire at a pesticide lab outside Florencia that had shut it down. We’d read two days ago that Lovemark had succumbed to cancer and that Russell Norman had taken over operations of GM Comm.
“I think we should go along with Da Silva … for now.” Sue looked out at the lake.
We’d heard that an aggressive environmental group claimed to have sprayed glyphosate on Da Silva’s vineyard. We’d been wondering what he was up to, so now that Sam was fully recovered, he and Eugene had volunteered to keep tabs on him. Then Ivan and I had received an e-mail from Da Silva this morning. We were curious as to how he obtained our e-mail addresses, but if anyone could find them, he could. In his message he had assured us that he was going to use his own resources and direct Naintosa to concentrate all of their ability to stop the spread of genetically engineered seed and pesticides. Also, Pharmalin was going to concentrate on the actual cure for colon cancer. He wanted both companies to cooperate with Ivan, Dr. Smith, and the Colombians and pool their research. In return, all he wanted was for us to be silent for a while, and then when there was progress, to report about it. We now knew that the elite were just as susceptible to being culled as the rest of the population, so Da Silva could be being truthful in his offer.
I folded the paper a second time and placed it in my pocket. “Unless Ivan says otherwise, I’ll respond to Da Silva tomorrow and say we agree.”
“And then we watch him to make sure he’s sincere,” Sue said.
“Yep.”
There had been no contact from Chief Inspector Plante with any of us since we’d left England. I’d expected that he would’ve been in touch, wanting to question us about what had happened in Colombia. I still had unproven suspicions that he had ties to Schmidt, Lovemark, and Da Silva. We never heard anything from Lieutenant Furyk and Agent Stenson either or had seen the Naintosa men from the Ford again.
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