It’s been a while, thought Alex. Memories of his first days of medical school wafted back to him like a cool breeze blowing over hot desert sand. He remembered how he felt when he first walked into his own medical school, all those years ago. The excitement, the uncertainty, the insecurity, the challenge… More than that, the fresh commitment to dedicate your energy to something bigger than yourself, to make a positive difference to other people, to try to remove some of the pain of the human condition… and, ultimately, on occasion, to prolong a human life.
Over the years, all that happened. But the gestalt changed. Now it was a matter of responsibility. Patients expected him to perform miracles – and so did he. But even so, he wouldn’t trade his career for anything in the world. Beneath all the pressures, the frustrations, the disappointment over the ones he couldn’t help, facing the negative feedback when people didn’t get what they wanted or expected - was still the desire to give aid. It was what got him up in the morning, drove him into the hospital day after day, even when dead tired. And walking back into a medical school brought it all to the surface where he could embrace it once again. Suddenly, a sense of nausea and dread rose from his bowels; would he ever be able to practice medicine again?
Todd’s building was designed primarily for research and contained mostly labs and their associated offices. The many young people they passed were not your average undergraduate students talking amongst themselves about the upcoming rock concert or last night’s date. These people, though dressed in casual slacks and shorts, golf shirts and t-shirts, gym shoes and sandals, were older and had an air about them of the graduate student and post doc. They exchanged ideas about how to sequence the gene coding for a protein essential in cellular metabolism and the role of tyrosine kinase in intracellular transmembrane transport.
Doug had expertly camouflaged him. When looking in a mirror, after Doug was done, Alex wondered who the stranger was who stared back at him. He wore a long-haired wig tied in the back, a neatly cropped beard, and darkened glasses. Although Oscar heartily approved of the choice of disguise, it was born more of a need to hide Oscar’s paraphernalia than a desire to advertise counter culture inclinations. The glasses and hair contained radio equipment so Doug, who was outside in a van on the street, could communicate with him. The disguise also included facial padding made of some kind of rubber-like compound that reshaped his face. It truly was a work of art. Alex also carried a small backpack, containing more of Oscar’s goodies.
Emily had a radio too, and both of them could surreptitiously turn their radios on and off as needed. She was able to hide hers in an ample amount of her own hair. Walking beside him, wearing shorts, sandals and a sleeveless t-shirt, she looked fantastic. He was sure she would have no problem being a distraction so he could do what he needed to do.
“It’s a good thing we left Doug in the van,” he said, leaning close to Emily so he could speak softly and still be understood. “He would have stood out like a Bunco cop in a swindler’s convention.”
“What about me? Do I fit in okay?”
“Honey, as long as there’re men around who can see, you’d stand out. And, no matter what you do, they won’t care why you’re there. They’ll just be damned grateful you are.”
Alex thought he saw just a hint of pink in Emily’s cheeks.
The deeper they got into the building, the harder Alex’s heartbeat. They were about to break into the office of a well-known researcher in broad daylight, surrounded by dozens of people. Alex felt he knew what was expected and how to project the illusion he belonged here. But even so…
They took an elevator to the third floor and, by following the room numbers, walked in the direction leading to Todd’s office. On both sides of the hallway were doors opening into large rooms containing dark stone lab tables with sinks and faucets. On the tables stood myriad types of lab equipment, large and small, with their accoutrements: flasks, beakers, test tubes, micropipettes and the like. There were also several desks bearing computers with large flat monitors, printers and ubiquitous piles of paper. Each lab bench had at least one person at it performing some task or other. The people they passed in the hall and those in the labs were concentrating on their respective activities. No one seemed to notice Alex’s and Emily’s presence. So far, so good.
Finally, near the end of the hall, they found a door labeled, “Dr. Griffin Todd, Chairman, Department of Virology.” They glanced inside the opened door to get the lay of the land as they walked past it. There sat an older woman dressed conservatively in a long-sleeved blouse behind a desk. She seemed to be concentrating on a computer screen, shuffling papers, and took no notice of them.
Alex continued down the hall a few steps, then turned around and stopped. He took off his pack and foraged through it as if he was trying to find something. Emily turned back to the office and poked her head in the door. She asked, “Is Dr. Todd available?” Both she and Alex knew he wasn’t; they planned their visit around it.
“No, he’s out of the office this afternoon. Can I help you?”
“Maybe. I’m interested in talking to him about his research. How can I get in touch with him?”
There was a short pause. In his mind’s eye, Alex could see the secretary looking Emily over and trying to decide if she was worth spending much energy on. “He’s a busy man. Do you have an appointment?”
“No. Can you make one for me?”
“Let’s see… He has an opening in about ten weeks. How much time would you need?” There was a note of condescension in her voice.
“Ten weeks! I can’t wait that long.” Emily paused as if she were trying to come to a decision. “Is there someone else I could talk to that knows his research?”
“That depends. Just what are you trying to find out?” The secretary’s voice now had an edge of suspicion to it.
“I’m a journalist and I’m interested in doing an article on cutting edge research in viral diseases. I’ve been told Dr. Todd is the man to talk to.”
“Who do you work for?”
“I’m freelance, but I’m researching an article I hope to sell to the Globe.”
There was a pause as the secretary considered her options. “I think you could get some interesting background information from Gary Tong, one of our post docs. Do you have a background in virology?”
“No, although I did minor in biology and I have been writing for the popular press about virology.”
The secretary seemed to make a decision. “Gary should suit you nicely.”
“Okay, how can I find him?”
“He should be either in his office or in lab 304.”
“I’m sorry, I really don’t know my way around here. Could you help me find him and introduce me?”
“I’m terribly busy…”
“It would only take a minute, and I really do need your help. Surely you could stand a break for five minutes? I would be very grateful.”
There was a long pause as the decision was weighed in the balance. “Alright. As long as we find him in five minutes. I really do have a lot to do.”
“Oh, thank you. Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”
Alex could hear the secretary push her chair back and move from behind the desk. “Follow me,” said the secretary as she walked out the door and moved past Alex who was still out in the hall, pack again on his back and, on cue, walking in the direction of Todd’s office as if he had a purpose and a destination. Which he did, just not those he hoped he projected.
Within a few steps, the secretary and Emily turned a corner out of sight and Alex moved into Todd’s office. There was no one else in sight.
The secretary occupied a carpeted outer office having a large desk, a couch against the opposite wall, and an upholstered chair on the wall beside the door Alex just entered. Off to the left was a conference room just past a potted hydrangea. It contained a long oak table, many padded chairs and white boards on two of the walls. The boards had figures and cryptic notes Alex coul
d not decipher. To the right was a closed door. Alex tried the doorknob. It was locked.
“I’m at Todd’s office door,” he said. “It’s locked. How do I get in?”
“What kind of lock?” came Doug’s voice through Alex’s glasses.
“Keyed. Looks like a standard kind of key.”
“Use the picks like I showed you.”
The jack hammer in Alex’s chest forced him to take a deep breath. “It occurs to me there’s something very wrong here. An ex-FBI agent and a police officer are teaching a law-abiding, clean-living, morally upstanding citizen how to break and enter. How did we ever come to this?”
“In terms I’m sure you can relate to, it’s called ‘adaptation and survival.’”
“Yeah, well, then there’s that…”
Alex wiped his palms on his pants. He reached in his pocket and pulled out two lock picks. Putting them into the lock, he thrust and twisted, turned the handle and stepped into the office. He softly closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He waited, taking slow deep breaths, trying to regain some level of calm.
They purposely came during lunch hour. He just hoped the secretary didn’t bring a sack lunch. If so, well, they’d have to wing it. They might have waited until she went to lunch, but if she locked the door behind her when she left, he’d have to pick the outer door lock standing in a hallway. Passersby might just be a little suspicious. At least this way he could pick a lock in an empty office.
It wasn’t long before he heard the secretary return to the outer office. He could hear her moving around and after what seemed like hours, but was really only a few minutes, he heard her leave and close and lock the outer door behind her.
“She’s left the office,” he said into his radio.
He heard a crackle in his earphone. “Hey, Gary, isn’t that the secretary?” came Emily’s voice. “She going to lunch?”
“Probably,” came a muted, but understandable male voice. “You hungry?”
“No-” The radio went dead.
Thank you, Emily. He felt safer having even that token reassurance. His breathing and heart rate slowed a little. He pushed aside all the thoughts trying to storm his mind about what could have gone wrong. They were lucky… so far.
The lights were out, but there was a good deal of light coming through the large window behind Todd’s desk. The desk sat on a gray shag carpet that showed little wear. Along the walls were large long file cabinets and floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books. A door opened into a small closet behind one wall. There were a few stacks of paper, all neatly piled on the desk next to a computer with flat screen.
“There’s something missing here,” said Alex.
“What’s that?” asked Doug.
“A sign on Todd’s desk saying, ‘A Neat Desk is the Sign of a Sick Mind.’”
He went to the computer, unplugged it and put it on the floor. Removing the outer casing, Alex added some bugs and other devices, as Oscar showed him. They would be able use them to listen in on conversations in the office and get into the computer through the wi-fi port. Done with that, he booted the thing with Oscar’s software, allowing them to worm their way into anything stored on disc, as well as gain access to everything the computer had access to.
All buttoned up again, Alex replaced the machine and stood to survey the office. He looked quickly at his watch. Fifteen minutes had gone by. Where to start? His level of uneasiness rose a couple of notches as he realized the size of the job he had, compared to how much time he had to work. His subconscious began playing “what if” and his level of anxiety grew and deepened. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the task at hand – an ability well-honed after years of working in the ER.
Looking around, he decided the richest ore would be found in the piles of paper, which should be the most current stuff, and the file cabinets, which should hold the most valuable data – valuable enough to store. He saw no evidence of a safe.
Mining the piles, he found nothing overtly relevant. He pulled out the camera and began taking pictures of the papers he found having anything remotely interesting. Most of it seemed to be administrative stuff relating to the lab and school. There seemed to be some preliminary research reports of work in progress and maybe a first draft of a journal article. He photographed these in case a thorough reading would produce something helpful, but he felt doubtful. He glanced at his watch; twenty-five minutes passed.
Moving over to the nearest file cabinet, he picked the lock and started grazing through the files. A feeling of discouragement washed over him. There didn’t seem to be anything new here. Plenty of work on viral research, cell membrane transport and the like. They were already inundated with the same kind of information and he didn’t see how any more would help them in any significant way.
Time was growing short and rather than indiscriminately photographing whatever he found, he looked for anything out of place. Something that would point them in a direction to go. This was why he was chosen to go into Todd’s office instead of Doug or Emily. With his expertise, he might notice something the others would miss. But there was nothing. Just the same research they’d found elsewhere. Not even a reference to The Survivors, the FBI, corporate financial support, or Srivastava’s lab. Nothing. There was no reference to him or Richard, security or police matters, government connections, or anything else to suggest there was more than academic research going on here. Desperate, Alex looked around the office for a hidden safe, a concealed compartment, something unusual, unexpected. He looked under piles of paper, behind books on the shelf, on the underside of the desk and chair, in the closet. Nothing.
“Doug, I’m beginning to feel like we have another dry hole here.”
“Maybe he’s not as guilty as we thought.”
“Either that or he does his nefarious work somewhere else and is very, very cautious.”
“He ain’t dumb. If he’s as guilty as we think, I’m absolutely sure he’s very cautious. You’re running out of time. Wrap it up and get out of there. We at least have the bugs and computer access.”
Alex turned his head reflexively as he heard the door to the outside office open and footsteps enter the other room. She’s back! he thought as he froze in place. He was really pushing his luck! “Emily, I need some help here,” he whispered. “She’s back from lunch.” God, he hoped it was the secretary and not Todd.
“Hang in there,” said Emily. “I’ll think of something.”
Alex looked around frantically for someplace to hide in case whoever was in the outside office decided to come in where he was. As if on cue, he heard a key enter the door lock. As the door opened, he slid between it and the wall. Through the crack between the door and the jamb, he saw enough to know it was the secretary.
From his hiding place, he heard footsteps enter the room and move over to the desk. There was the sound of paper shuffling and then silence. He heard the chair behind the desk being moved and replaced. There were a couple more steps and the closet door opened, followed by the sound of hangers being moved on a rod. The closet door closed.
Was she suspicious and looking for an intruder? Jesus, if he was caught, he was sure she would call security, who would turn him over to the police and then… death? What could he do? Force his way past her and run? What if they had guns? This is a medical school, of course they wouldn’t have guns. But they would certainly call the cops. Could he elude them? Could Doug and Emily help, or should he avoid them so they could continue the search?
He felt suffocated. Realizing he had been holding his breath, he concentrated on exhaling slowly and quietly, then cautiously inhaling once again.
After what seemed an eternity, he heard the footsteps approach where he was hiding behind the opened door. He watched in horror as the door retreated from him, expecting a surprised female face to be suddenly thrown in front of him. But all he saw was empty office as the door swung closed beside him. The secretary left the room. He exhaled as silently as he could.
&nbs
p; “Excuse me.” He heard Emily in the outer office. “I went to the bathroom and got separated from Gary. I’m afraid I’m lost. Could you show me where his office is? We were talking and he took me there, but I forgot where it is. I’m afraid I’m really bad at spatial orientation. I’d never make it as a mailman.”
Alex could hear what he was sure was an exasperated exhale as the secretary said, “Oh all right. But I really do have a lot of work here. Dr. Todd is due back here shortly and he’s expecting me to be finished with what I’m doing.”
“Please,” Emily pleaded. “It’ll only take a minute of your time. I really need to finish this interview.”
“Oh, all right.”
Alex heard the outer door close and the two of them retreating down the hall. Quickly, he opened the inner office door and closed it behind him, making sure it was locked. He moved over to the outer door and twisted the knob. It was unlocked. He opened the door and, on instinct, backed out into the hallway as if he had just stuck his head in the door. Just as he did this, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the secretary returning around the corner to his right.
“Can I help you?” she said. She seemed more than a little irritated.
Alex remembered a name they had seen on the directory in the main entrance. “I’m looking for Dr. Andrew’s office. Can you tell me where to find it?” he asked.
“He’s up on the fourth floor. This is the third floor.”
“Ah, that explains it. Thank you.”
Alex walked over toward the stairwell. The secretary stared after him for a second, then retreated back to her work in her office. In the stairwell, Alex let out another long exhale, this time not so quietly. “I made it,” he said into the hidden radio as he retreated down the stairs. “I’ll meet you in the van, Emily. You know, we really need to work harder on contingency planning.”
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