“A contact?” Chris asked.
Nodding, Jordan walked away as he pressed the card up to his ear and slid into his office.
Chris rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Dellaporta, I’m—”
“Ana,” she said. “Call me Ana.”
“Ana, I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through. I know this might be hard, and I’m not sure what I can do to convince you, but I want you to know you can trust us.”
Robin’s head bobbed, her hair bouncing in waves. “Absolutely. Anything you need.” She reached again to Ana. This time the detective did not recoil from Robin’s touch.
Ana brushed back her hair. “In a strange way, I believe you. You might’ve hidden your past from me for a while, but you haven’t lied to me yet, Morgan.”
“Chris. Call me Chris.”
“Ex-con Chris. Has a nice ring to it.” Her lips curled into a smile. Her expression grew dour again when Jordan burst through the office doors, his jaw set and his brow furrowed.
“I think,” he began, “I know where Vincent is.”
Chapter 16
Jordan ambled back to the kitchen counter, his forehead wrinkled as though he were stuck in thought.
“Kill it with the suspense,” Chris said. He fought to refrain from sounding too impatient. “Where the hell do you think that bastard is?” His heart thumped harder as he imagined what he’d do when he confronted Vincent. He saw his fingers wrapping around the man’s neck, his fist smashing into the asshole’s face. His knee slamming into the man’s groin. After Vincent had tortured Veronica and left her to die, after his thugs had kidnapped and imprisoned Robin and him...“I think it’s about time we shared a long conversation with him.”
Jordan sat on a stool and stroked his clean-shaven chin. “There’s a global consulting company that started about two years ago called Sobek. The group’s been setting up headquarters in Denmark and Korea.”
“What makes Sobek special?” Robin asked.
“A couple of things,” Jordan said before glancing at Chris. “Their Korean headquarters was established days before you and your friend Vincent got out of prison.”
Chris nodded, understanding Jordan’s unspoken implications. “And I know how you feel about coincidences. Do you have any proof to back up Vincent’s connections with Sobek?”
“Two executives in Sobek owned shares in Tallicor. Not only did they own stocks in Vincent’s company, but they also shorted their stocks on the same day Ana led the raid on Tallicor’s offices.”
“I’m a doctor, not a financial expert,” Robin said. “So could you please tell me what all this ‘shorting’ talk is about?”
“Basically, you short a stock if you think the share prices are going to go down in the future. Your broker essentially lends you a number of stocks you can sell at the current price. Then later, you buy an equal number of stocks and more or less return them to the broker. If you get to buy those stocks at a lower price than you initially sold the borrowed ones for, you make a net profit.”
“I see,” Robin said. “So if I was a betting woman, I’d say these people shorted those stocks an hour or so before the raid even happened.”
Jordan nodded. “Which would mean they received inside information potentially coming from the FBI, Baltimore PD, or Vincent’s organization.”
“And you think Vincent is an informant or something for Sobek?” Ana asked.
“I’m thinking Vincent is the mastermind behind Sobek. The shell company is similar to Tallicor. They specialize in biotechnology consulting, focusing on military research. Sound familiar to the interests of our local genetic enhancement groups trying to sell their tech to the army?”
“Those are awfully big assumptions,” Chris said. “Do you have any concrete proof Vincent’s involved in Sobek?”
“No I do not, my man.”
Chris started to say something but stopped. He knew Jordan well enough to realize his friend had something else up his sleeve and hoped it would be better than another shot in the dark.
“But we now have a meeting in two days with Sobek to discuss the expansion of our company into the Asia-Pacific region,” Jordan said.
“Are they coming to our office?”
“No, we’re going to theirs,” Jordan said, “so get your passport ready for Korea.”
***
Jordan glanced among the trio before him. Chris’s face appeared frozen in a mixture of anger and shock. Ana still looked as though she’d been through a war zone; in fact, she may as well have been in the middle of the current Iranian occupation, trading shots with insurgents. The past two nights had no doubt proved traumatic for Ana, and he doubted she would escape the thrall of PTSD in the coming weeks, months, and years. Robin, on the other hand, looked back at him as she slowly nodded, as if she understood exactly what he had planned.
“I’m flying to Seoul, and then we’ll take the mag-lev straight to Daegu,” Jordan said.
Ana wrapped her hand around her coffee mug. “Right into the heart of the Asian biotech empire...”
At first, Jordan was surprised she knew so much about the global healthcare industry. Then again, he’d never met a detective as serious about biotechnology and its abuse as her.
“Who’s with me?” He leaned across the counter and patted Chris’s shoulder. “Obviously, you’ll be my plus one, my man.”
“Of course,” Chris said. “I think we should all go. Safer to travel together.”
“Safer to travel together?” Robin said. “I don’t think so. That’s a little too obvious. You and Jordan are setting up a business meeting. You two run TheraComp, so your alibi fits. Maybe, maybe they’d believe I’m tagging along as your clinical consult. But it’s going to look suspicious if you’re bringing a detective from Baltimore.”
Ana nodded. “I’m not going. Not while everything in my department and the city is going to hell. I need to be here to solve what our department apparently can’t—or is being paid not to.”
“It’s not safe here for you,” Chris said. “After last night, you know as well as I do these criminals are not going to let you off the hook.”
“And I hope they don’t.” Her eyes narrowed and filled with a fiery hatred. She curled her fingers into fists. “I sincerely hope they don’t.”
“Maybe it’d be safer if you lie low,” Robin said, “or at least find a place to hide. Do you live alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then Chris is probably right.”
Jordan could practically see the gears turning in Robin’s head. He watched Chris, ready to see the disappointment in the man’s eyes.
“You can stay at my place. Keep an eye on me, I’ll keep an eye on you,” Robin said. “And at least you can’t be caught at your apartment alone.”
“And I’m supposed to leave you here?” Chris asked, his face contorting into an expression reminiscent of a hurt puppy. “I can’t.”
“You can’t let Jordan go on his own.” She turned to him. “No offense.”
Jordan held his hands up. “No offense taken. I do get pretty lonely on overseas trips.”
“You can’t be serious,” Chris said, his eyes still glued to Robin.
“There’s no way I’m abandoning Ana, and you know you can’t ask me to leave my kids.”
Chris squeezed her hand, pleading. “There are other doctors...”
“I’ll have Ana to protect me, and the hospital is increasing security patrols inside and outside the medical center.” She beamed, confident. “Besides, we’ll all be a lot safer when you take care of Vincent, and the only way that’s going to happen is if you two pay him a visit, right?”
Jordan could see even Chris knew Robin had a point. They could hide in the shadows for the rest of their lives, or he and Chris could go confront the man causing their terror. Besides, Ana was a stubborn and strong detective trained in firearms and hand-to-hand combat. She might protect Robin better than either he or Chris could.
“You know the two
ladies are right,” Jordan said. “We’ll be much more productive as a team if we split up. You and I go after Vincent, and these two stay here and make progress on their personal projects.”
“What about the Blackbird supplement?” Chris asked, looking back at Ana.
“I’ve got all kinds of equipment available at the hospital,” Robin said. She patted Chris’s knee. “And my work with a certain bioengineer has boosted my confidence in research. I’m sure I can get Ana in, too. After all, I got you, an ex-con, access to the hospital labs. It should be a hell of a lot easier to get the hospital to grant a city detective access, don’t you think?”
Chris folded his arms across his chest and said nothing.
“Then it’s settled,” Jordan said. “We’ll travel a full twelve hours’ worth of time zones.” He jabbed his index finger out toward Chris. “I hope you’re good with jetlag, my man.”
“I still don’t think it’s smart splitting up.”
Jordan reached behind his back and gripped the weapon he’d taken from his office when he’d accepted the call earlier. He pulled out a stunner and handed the silver pistol-shaped electric gun to Robin. “I intended to give this to Chris since he refuses to get a gun himself, but I think you can keep it safe until we’re back.”
Ana sat up straighter. “You know that’s illegal.”
“I do. Are you planning on arresting me, Detective?”
She rolled her eyes and slumped back on her stool.
“Where the hell did you get that?” Chris asked.
In his mind’s eye, he pictured the moment one of their employees, a lab tech at TheraComp named Hugh, had pulled the stunner out and threatened Jordan with it several weeks ago. The tech had been manipulated with threats against his life by the same criminal organization they were now going after. Jordan had managed to subdue Hugh and had kept the weapon for his own purposes—and Hugh had later saved Jordan’s life, repenting for his coerced betrayal. “I’m a resourceful son of a bitch.”
“I’ll agree on the son of a bitch part,” Chris said. “When do we fly out?”
“How about this afternoon?”
Chapter 17
The plane landed heavily on the runway and jolted Chris awake. Rain sluiced over the window as Jordan stared at the shadowy landscape before them. Glittering lights illuminated the ominous silhouettes of mountains against a dark-purple sky.
At the airport, they boarded the shuttle and set out for Seoul. Looming towers rose up against the horizon as they neared the largest city of reunified Korea. While the symbolic governmental capitol of Korea had been shifted to encompass the Panmum and Dorason regions of the former North and South, Seoul still functioned as the economic hub of the country. The shuttle passed bright holograms floating in the air advertising everything from fast food restaurants to global banks, which reassured Chris of this fact.
They exited the train, and Chris stretched. People surged all around him as they flowed in and out of the station. He felt like a coconut caught in the tide.
“Come on, my man,” Jordan said. “There’s no such thing as being polite in the train station.” He pushed forward through the throngs.
Chris followed. Above them, drones of all sizes and types flew. He recalled reading about the intricate drone infrastructure in Korea that made visits to the grocery or department stores obsolete. Practically everything was delivered and guaranteed—at least in the city—to arrive in fifteen minutes or less.
He fought to refrain from gawking as he soaked up this foreign world.
A wrinkled man with salt-and-pepper hair grabbed his arm. “Buddy, buddy. You looking for sex? Real, hot women?”
Chris shook his head.
The man cocked his head. “Real women cost you too much? We have virtual too.”
“No, no thank you.” Chris jogged to catch up to Jordan, who loomed above the crowd with his lanky form and bald mahogany head. “Christ, this place is intense.” He looked up at Jordan and grinned.
But Jordan didn’t return the expression. “Did you catch the guy in the navy blue suit with the ocular implant?”
Chris shook his head. He couldn’t recall spotting anybody appearing to have an artificial eye.
“Don’t look back, but you’ll see him again. He’s following us.”
“How do you know?”
“People with ocular implants have a slight green glow to their sclera,” Jordan said. “If you catch them from a side angle, you can see it.”
“No, I mean how do you know he’s following us?”
“Because he’s kept his fake eye on us since we stepped off the plane.”
“All right,” Chris said. “Think we should shake him or interrogate him?”
“I want to know what’s going on, don’t you?”
“If it leads to Vincent, I’m ready to start a conversation with this guy.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So I take it we aren’t taking the first train to Daegu now,” Chris said. “Where are we going to turn the tables on this guy?”
***
They walked off one of the main streets filled with suits toting briefcases and dodged into an alley. Chris expected the abrupt change in scenery to mirror his experience in the United States, where a couple of dumpsters and piles of trash bags would greet him. Instead, there existed a second city behind the towering conglomerate headquarters and spiraling skyscrapers.
Laughing and talking in loud voices, patrons spilled from small restaurants tucked into the sides of the buildings. Paper lanterns and glowing holograms projecting red and white Korean characters shone all around him as they followed a cobblestone path. He thought about whipping out his comm card to autotranslate the foreign symbols but figured he didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself as a tourist than he already was.
“You know where you’re going in this mess?” he asked.
Jordan didn’t answer but instead offered a wry grin.
A left turn led to a narrower street. Holograms gave way to cracked plastic signs. Only half the LEDs appeared to work in any given restaurant, and the individuals in these eating establishments and bars were more reserved than those they’d first encountered.
“In here,” Jordan said and opened a creaking wooden door. A wave carrying the aromas of salty seafood, garlic, and other pungent spices washed out.
At first, the man waiting behind the open metal stovetop near the entrance grimaced. Then his lips parted in a wide smile.
“Mr. Thompson, you have not been here a long time,” he said in broken English. He bowed, and Jordan followed suit.
“And I apologize for my rudeness today, but I brought a guest,” Jordan said.
The man bowed again, and Chris tried to match the gesture.
“There is a third man coming,” Jordan said, “but I fear he won’t be interested in your bulgogi and rice. I hope you’ll excuse me for a minute as I deal with him.”
“You have not changed.” The man leaned on the counter full of pots, pans, and dried noodles. “Always causing trouble.”
Jordan kept the door cracked as he peered out the window. As a man in a trim navy-blue suit walked past, Jordan sprang out like a trap-door spider and wrapped his arm around the man’s neck. He pulled his prey into the restaurant and held him in a chokehold.
A hint of green glowed from the man’s right eye as he wriggled.
“A little help?” Jordan grunted as the man thrashed.
Chris lunged over, but the man timed a powerful kick. It sent Chris flying back against the wall. A painting crashed to the floor beside him as he caught his breath and struggled to keep from dry heaving.
Blue Suit tilted his head and slipped from Jordan’s arms. In one fluid motion, he dropped and swung a leg out, sending Jordan toppling backward. A sickening thud marked the impact when Jordan’s head slammed against a wooden table.
Chris jumped up and dove to tackle Blue Suit. The man sidestepped and grabbed him by the collar. As if throwin
g out the trash, he tossed Chris into the middle of the restaurant, sending chairs and tables tumbling into the air.
Scrambling backward, Chris tried to regain a foothold but fell back against the floor. Navy Suit kicked Jordan’s unconscious body back and reached behind his jacket. He pulled out a silver handgun and strode toward Chris.
He grimaced as he drove his heel into Chris’s chest. “You two have made a terrible mistake.”
Chris held his breath as he pressed himself against the wall, wishing it would disappear and let him fall through, let him escape. He would have no such luck.
Chapter 18
Robin dreaded the call she would have to make that afternoon. She didn’t want to report the Wrights to Child Protective Services. She believed them.
But the law was not so kind or understanding. While hospital policy dictated she report potential violations immediately, the state of Maryland gave her twenty-four hours to file before she risked losing her medical license and even being charged with a felony. She vowed to do whatever she could to delay making the report, but that might not stop someone else in the hospital from placing it.
After the mugging, she’d neglected to retrieve new samples. She didn’t trust using a comm card now that one had been stolen from her. She could’ve sent the data via an encrypted method, but she already crossed ethical lines by storing the data on her card; she didn’t need to make it worse by sending it over the Net, where everybody from an amateur hacker to the National Security Agency could sneak a peek.
Fortunately, Ana was stowed away in her apartment. The detective could access a slew of records and data on illegal genetic enhancements. If Robin could smuggle another sample from the lab, she might be able to help Ana track down the source of the viral vector she’d found in the Wrights’ blood.
She strode through the hospital hall, passing nurses scampering between rooms and autobots delivering fresh supplies and medicine. She stopped.
Maybe it would be unwise to retrieve the samples in the middle of the afternoon. After all, the laboratory would be filled with techs performing blood work, examining biopsied tissue samples, and identifying pathogens found in patients. The facility hosted a hive of activity at this time of day. Certainly, a supposedly busy pediatric oncologist’s presence wouldn’t be noticed.
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