“Yes, Mr. De Oliveira,” Firuzeh said, smiling warmly. “That will be fine. Please excuse Asrani -- he is a busy man…sometimes too busy to be polite.” She cast her ‘husband’ a reproving look.
Gabriel nearly burst out laughing but managed to keep his ‘rich dick’ persona intact. “So sorry, Mr. De Oliveira. She’s right. I’m a bit pushy at times. Please pardon me. If it wasn’t for her, I’d probably get my nose broken. We cool?”
“You are a very lucky man. She is a gem, brilliant and many-faceted. And, yes, we are, as you say, cool. Please follow me. I won’t delay you any further.”
Inside the small, but well-appointed, private room were two leather chairs, a petite coffee table, and a counter on the far wall with an elaborate automatic teller machine affixed to it. The iris scanner was just above eye level over the main touchscreen. The thumb print scanner was to the right of the keypad. Firuzeh took a seat in front of the ATM.
“Cross your fingers.” She touched the screen and followed the prompts, entering the account number first, and then the 16-character password. “We’re in!”
“Excellent. I’ll text Raimy. I don’t want him getting nervous.”
“Good idea…. sonofabitch! Gabriel, look at this.”
“Wow! Gimme your phone. I’ll take photos of each screen as we scroll though.”
For the next twelve minutes Firuzeh led Gabriel through the account. Everything was there, including the account numbers for the co-conspirators, the deposits, withdrawals, transfers, and Asrani’s safety deposit box assignment.
“Hell's holy stars,” Firuzeh whispered. “They moved the money fast.”
“And look…the distributions…carried out up until the day Asrani was…um….”
“…killed…is the word you’re looking for, Gabriel.”
“Yes. Killed. Sorry.”
Firuzeh pressed on. “Let’s match up these account numbers to the list of twelve initials. I want to see the money trail.”
“Okay…SB, MG, LL, and JM were each listed for $250,000. Remember, LL is Liam Lohan. The teenager from South Boston Raimy autopsied,” he said.
“Those bastards killed a kid. Degenerates! Keep going.”
“Next…MF and MT each recorded for $500,000. MT is Mort Tanzler, that pervert from Raimy’s office.”
“Eww! Move on.”
“DK, RK, and AP. All scheduled for a million bucks. These are the dirty cops. Keeler, Kypreos, and Paolucci.”
Firuzeh’s heart was racing. “Got it. Next?”
“EF and AP are slated for two million each. I assume AP is Asrani. What about EF?
Firuzeh nodded. “Forbes. Earl Warren Forbes. That’s what that pig cop called him. I’ll never forget it.” She closed her eyes momentarily, remembering.
He paused, too, briefly.
“That leaves NK, scheduled for $101 million. Wow! That’s the lion’s share,” Gabriel said.
“Exactly. NK is our target.”
“Whoever the hell that is.”
“Let’s close this out and see what’s in the safety deposit box.”
Gabriel put in the contacts. “Okay. Let’s go. I sure hope these things work.” He picked up the tumbler and saw one of Asrani’s eyes staring back at him.
This wasn’t in our contract, you prick.
Chapter 92
Mr. De Oliveira escorted Gabriel downstairs passed a locked gate and a security guard before being shown into a small, private room with another door facing him. The portal had two scanners.
“If you please, sir, after I close the door touch your right thumb to the scanner on the bottom. When your thumb print is confirmed then the iris scan will automatically activate. At that time raise your right eye to the scanner. It may take a few tries, so please be patient if it doesn’t work the first time. After three unsuccessful attempts the door behind you will open and I’ll come back if you want to try again. If the iris scan works, then the door in front of you will open and you will access the vault.”
“Okay. Then what?”
“I have to do the same thing on the other side of the vault. I’ll meet you inside once I see that you’ve been cleared through. When we meet, I’ll take your key and my key, unlock and release your box to you. At that time, I’ll lead you back to the private room where you can conduct your business in private. When you are finished, repeat the scanning process and we will replace the box. If you have any questions you can press the intercom button and I can assist you. Do you have any questions?”
“No. Thank you. That’s quite clear,” said Gabriel.
Mr. De Oliveira left the room and locked the door behind him.
Gabriel removed Asrani’s right thumb from the tumbler. He pressed the dismembered digit onto the scanner.
The silence was only a few seconds, but it seemed endless. Finally, he saw the iris scan illuminate. He aligned his right eye and stared into the lens, hoping the contact lens with the fake iris would fool the scanner.
Again, a seemingly long, silent pause. Then the door clicked and opened slightly. It fucking worked! I can’t believe it.
He replaced the thumb in the tumbler and stepped into the vault.
“And there you are, sir. You are box 582. I have inserted my key, now please insert yours.”
Gabriel did so, then both men turned the keys clockwise. Click. Click.
“Thank you, sir, here is your box. Would you like me to carry it into your private room?”
“I’ve got it from here. Thanks Mr. De Oliveira.”
“My pleasure, sir. Remember, when you complete your business you must repeat the scanning process.”
“Got it. Thanks again,” Gabriel replied as he blinked away a small tear produced by the irritation in his eye.
He carried the metal box into the private room. Mr. De Oliveira closed the door and made certain to listen for the locking mechanisms kick in. Gabriel opened the 24 by 12 by 3-inch container. Inside he found a sealed, plain manila envelope. Lifting it out, he could tell it contained about a dozen documents.
He folded the envelope and tucked it under his arm.
“Ouch. Son of a bitch.” Gabriel rubbed his right eye. It was stinging. It felt like a piece of sandpaper was caught under his eyelid. He suspected the fake iris film was coming off the lens.
Gabriel closed the lid and started the biometric process.
Thumb to scanner.
Clear.
Eye to scanner.
Nothing.
Oh shit!
A calming voice came over the intercom.
First iris scan attempt failure. Second attempt starting in five seconds.
Gabriel stood straight and stared directly into the lens. He could feel the amber light poring over his irritated eye.
He waited.
Nothing.
Uh oh. What’s wrong?
The calming voice returned, but Gabriel was not calm.
Second iris scan attempt failure. Third attempt starting in five seconds.
He went to Plan B and opened the cooler, removed Asrani’s right eyeball, and quickly took it out of the plastic bag. The orb felt like wet, hard gelatin in his fingers. It smelled awful. When the amber light came on, he held it up to the scanner.
This better work.
The quiet was deafening.
“C’mon…c’mon…open goddammit. Open!” he mumbled.
Click.
It opened. Gabriel was so elated he nearly forgot to replace the eyeball and thumb into the tumbler before returning to the vault.
“Welcome back, sir. Was everything to your satisfaction?”
“Yes, Mr. De Oliveira. All thumbs up. Thank you.”
“Outstanding. Let’s return your box, lock it up, and you can continue with your day.”
The white-haired gentleman slid the metal container back into its slot, and then joined Gabriel in locking it up using the two keys.
“Will there be anything else today, sir?” He peered at Gabriel. “Are you all right? Would
you like a tissue for your eyes?”
Gabriel swallowed hard and nervously wiped his tearing eye. “No. Thanks. I’ll be okay. It’s just been an emotional day. You’ve been most accommodating. Thank you, again.”
“Very well. I’ll escort you back upstairs to join your party.”
Chapter 93
Raimy watched impatiently as Firuzeh and Gabriel leisurely strolled out of the bank. They were all smiles as they made their way to the Rolls Royce. He held open the door for the pair, who climbed inside. Taking the wheel, he pulled out onto West Bay Road and headed for the airport.
“Well? Are you two going to say anything? Or do you want to just sit there with your smug grins?”
“Total success, Raimy,” said Firuzeh. “I’ll let Gabriel give you the details.”
For the next 15 minutes, Gabriel re-capped everything…and removed his contacts. Both lenses still held the iris print on film, but the right one had a fold on it. Close call.
Firuzeh’s attention drifted, as she reviewed the materials from the safety deposit box.
Son of a bitch. Son. Of. A. Bitch, she thought.
Chapter 94 – Airborne
The Learjet 70 quickly lifted off the Grand Cayman Island airport runway, accelerated to its 583-mph cruising speed, and leveled off at 35,000 feet for the short flight to Lakeland Linder International Airport near Tampa. The chartered jet would likely spend only minutes on the ground while everyone cleared Customs and officially re-entered the U.S. before taking flight again for the return trip to the Culpeper Regional Airport.
Raimy and Gabriel were in good spirits, chortling over the near disastrous iris scanning gaffe at the bank. They purposely made small talk.
“I can’t believe the guy offered me a tissue. I was about to ruin my underwear. Christ!”
“You’ve got balls, man.”
“I sure didn’t feel brave. I’ll tell you that. How’s your Bikini Martini?”
Raimy smiled. “It’s good. I had no idea you could layer a mix of vodka, coconut rum, pineapple juice and grenadine. It really does kinda look like a bikini. Tastes good, too.”
They both took eager sips and stole looks at Firuzeh. They were killing time, waiting for her to finish examining the file recovered from the safety deposit box…and she was taking her time.
Whatever she’s reading is hitting her hard. Christ, I feel sorry for her, thought Gabriel.
Twice she looked up and out the jet window. Tears creeped over the hill of her cheek and down into the corner of her rigid lips. Both men noticed but feigned obliviousness.
“I’ll be right back.” Raimy got up to use the lavatory.
When he returned, he held a bottle of Buffalo Trace Eagle Rare bourbon whiskey and a rocks glass half filled with ice. He took his seat opposite Firuzeh and placed the two items on the large foldout table in front of her.
“Firuzeh, when you’re ready we’re here for you,” he offered.
She looked up, setting her eyes on him before she shifted her stare to Gabriel. After a long moment, she closed the file folder and poured herself half a glass of the bourbon and gulped an inelegant mouthful.
Steadied by the booze, she started. “First, it is clear now to me that Asrani desperately wanted biological children. He kept a sort of diary or journal,” she said as both men leaned closer. “It’s brief, but it’s in this folder. His string of affairs were not emotional dalliances. Rather, he was finding fertile women hoping for a blood-related successor. Not an inheritor of his wealth, but an heir to his bloodline.” Her attention drifted as she stared out at the clouds through the jet window.
“He loved me….” She returned her attention to the two men. “But he believed his inability to have a biological child was a death sentence.”
“A death sentence?” Gabriel repeated.
“Those were his exact words…if we can’t have children it’s our death sentence…it’s weird, though.”
“What do you mean? How is that weird?” asked Raimy.
“Asrani knew I couldn’t have kids. We talked about it when we dated. Early on, too.”
“Okay…so what?” he pressed.
“Don’t you see? Take a look.” She pushed the folder toward him. “His words are just strange…if we can’t have children it’s our death sentence…he’s not writing to me. Christ, he knew we couldn’t have kids. Who the hell is us? Who is he talking to? This is a message for others.”
“Wait, what? Others? Plural?” Gabriel chimed in, alert. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what I mean. But I know Asrani is not directing this to me.” She took another hard swallow.
Gabriel asked. “Raimy, what was it that Forbes said the night he drugged you and Firuzeh? This chemical anomaly is all connected to research for a fertility cure? That there are too many lives at stake?”
“Yeah, that’s right. An illegal cure,” Raimy answered.
Firuzeh added, “He also said, there are powerful people who want to see it succeed. It’s a secret.”
“This is starting to make sense. I think Asrani is referring to these powerful people when he says if we can’t have children it’s our death sentence. I don’t know who these powerful people are but if Asrani is one of them…was one of them…then they believe all their lives are on the line and whatever this banned fertility cure is, they’re depending on it…with their lives,” Gabriel concluded.
“And they’re willing to kill to keep it a secret,” said Firuzeh.
“But why? What’s so important?”
“Firuzeh, what else was in that folder?” Gabriel asked.
Raimy jumped in, closing the file folder he’d been reading. “I can tell you. It makes sense to me now. I just didn’t make the connection before. There are references and notes to and from NK…or should I say, Nia Katiakan.”
“Who in the hell is Nia…Nia…catch-as-catch-can…whatever,” Gabriel asked.
“Kat-ee-ah-can. We were chemistry majors at Occidental College. I didn’t know her very well. We were friendly, but not friends. Single-mindedly focused. Graduated with honors. She’s a hot shit fertility researcher uncovering new pathways to repair human fertility.”
Gabriel whistled.
“About a year ago she was named one the 100 most influential people in the world by one of those national magazines.”
“What a powerhouse!” Firuzeh sunk in her seat. “I feel so…so…unproductive compared to her.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Raimy said. “Same school, but I end up in the M.E.’s office and she’s on track for a Nobel Prize. Now she runs the Katiakan Research Lab, a privately funded fertility research facility in Teaneck, New Jersey.”
“I thought only the feds and universities funded that kind of research,” questioned Gabriel.
“Not anymore. At least not exclusively. Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, Kyle Farrow, Michael J. Fox are just a few of the philanthropic mega-donors who joined the ranks of wealthy foundations pumping cash into biomedical research labs.”
Gabriel was confused. “What the hell? Why?”
“The trend is driven, in part, by federal government fiscal belt-tightening that limits the number of research grants awarded…and many feel stalls innovation. Private funders, on the other hand, have the freedom to fuel the research they want at the pace they want.”
“With less oversight, I’ll bet,” Gabriel speculated.
Raimy nodded. “Dr. Katiakan works in applied research, specifically in human developmental and stem cell biology. She’s on track to be the first scientist ever to obtain government approval to edit the genomes of human embryos.”
Gabriel wasn’t interested in career tracks. “Holy shit! That makes sense now. It’s what Warren told us. That chemical anomaly was an attempt at a fertility cure. He said a remedy takes research and research takes money…a lot of money. Katiakan is their researcher. She has to be!”
“A hundred million is a lot of money, that’s for sure,” agreed Raimy.
�
��It is. Forbes also said there were powerful people behind it, but that it’s a secret. What better place to conduct research under the radar than at a privately funded lab?”
“Yeah…that’s right…because…how did he say it…oh, yeah…lives are at stake…whose lives? Who dies from infertility? Or is this a bloodline vanity project, like what Asrani was doing. I still don’t get it,” Raimy admitted.
“Look. I don’t have all the answers. But Katiakan must be their researcher. Asrani just funneled a ton of stolen money to her…and was killed afterwards. I want to know what she knows about Pablo and Cody…and Asrani, too. If she’s really tied to this then is she also a killer?” Gabriel asked.
“Raimy, where is this Nia Katiakan? I want to meet her…immediately!” Firuzeh demanded.
“She probably spends most of her time in New York, or near her lab in New Jersey. I’m really not sure. But that’s my bet.”
“I’ll make some calls and find out. Gentlemen, I’m changing plans and going to New York. Gabriel?”
“Yeah…I’m in…you know that. I’ll go tell the pilot to change the flight plan.”
“Thank you. I’m glad. Tell the pilot to go to Toronto…Pearson International…they have pre-clearance there. I want our port of entry to confuse anyone who’s keeping tabs on us. I’m not taking any chances. From Toronto we can drop into any general aviation airport we want…incognito…remember, there’s no passenger manifest. I think Teterboro Airport is best…it’s only 12 miles from the city…and just a few miles from Katiakan’s lab. Raimy, are you with us?”
“Are you kidding me? Give up on all the fun we’ve been having? Poisonings, gun fights, murder, Martian heroin, bank heists? Of course, I’m in. Sheesh!” Raimy replied with an exaggerated eye-roll.
Firuzeh started giggling…and then couldn’t stop. Raimy was dumb struck, as was Gabriel. The two men watched her titter uncontrollably. The more she tried to stop and compose herself the worse it got.
“I’m waiting for the snort…there’s always a snort…and when beautiful women snort, they get more attractive…wait…wait…here it comes,” Gabriel said.
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