The 731 Legacy

by Lynn Sholes

  "But you said we could."

  "I said if we got everything else done first."

  "I can go look at the toys while you shop. I promise I'll stay right in that department. You can come get me whenever you're ready to go."

  "I don't think so. You need to stay with me," she said, pulling out her shopping list from her purse. "No discussion." She looked up and searched the section signs for one that saidhardware.

  "Wait." Her son pointed to a boy and his mother walking down a side aisle. It was one of his neighborhood friends and mother. "Can I go say hello?"

  She waved at the other mother.

  "Sure, but make it quick." She watched him navigate through the flow of customers to his friend. A moment later, he ran back to her.

  "They're going to look at the toys. Can I please go hang out with them. His mom said it was okay."

  His mother glanced down the aisle. The neighbor waved and mouthed that is was okay.

  "I promise I won't leave that section," her son said.

  She could probably get more done faster without him complaining the whole time, she thought. "You promise to stay with them?"

  "Yes!" He raised his arms in a victory gesture as he ran off dodging the knot of shoppers that clogged the store.

  She headed for the hardware section, knowing her father-in-law had hinted he wanted a new cordless, reversible drill for Christmas. Her husband said to only get one made by Black & Decker. That should be easy enough.

  The aisles were so congested she had to almost shoulder her way through to the hardware section. There were six different drills to choose from, making the decision process harder. She was reaching for a mid-priced model when she heard a shout. It sounded like it came from a few aisles over. She started reading the features list on the box when she heard a woman shriek.

  A few people at the ends of the row started walking toward the commotion. She realized that the disturbance was coming from the direction of the toy section. Placing the drill back on the display, she hurried to the end of the row. A number of people, including employees, were rushing in the direction of the toys displays.

  Someone yelled to dial 911.

  She picked up her pace, feeling her heart rate increase. It was probably

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  nothing, but people were so crazy during the holidays. She should have made him stay with her. She scanned the crowd, searching for her son's face, the back of his head, his plaid jacket.

  Customers gathered in a mass at the end of one of the aisles in the toy section. She pushed her way through until she could see what was happening. About halfway down the row, three employees knelt around a man who was sprawled on his back on the floor. Thank the Lord, it wasn't her son. The man appeared to be Asian, maybe Chinese or Japanese. They all looked alike to her.

  "Mom?"

  She turned to see her son standing next to her. "Thank God, you're all right," she said, hugging him.

  "Yeah, I'm fine."

  She squeezed him again, then let him go.

  "I was looking at a Spiderman action figure and this guy was standing a few feet away when he started coughing and stuff. Like he was having some sort of allergy attack. You know, like when Auntie sneezes around our cat? He kept coughing, and all of a sudden he just fell on the ground—looked like he was trying to take a red pill. This one lady called 911 on her cell."

  Across the way she caught sight of the neighbor who shrugged, lifting both hands like she had no explanation of what happened.

  The mother ushered her son away, excusing themselves as they moved through the onlookers. "Let's leave the sick man to the paramedics. Come on, I need you to help me pick out a drill for Grandpa."

  CONNECTION

  "This is the part that made my head swim," Ted said. "I was totally appalled at everything I read about Unit 731, but couldn't specifically attach any of it to our investigation. Then, strictly by accident, I ran across a tiny article. Seems that two of the most zealous members of Unit 731 defected to Korea just after the war. The code name for the germ warfare project they worked on was Black Needles."

  "You're kidding," Cotten said.

  "Nope, here's the article." He pitched it across the desk to her. "This man and wife team was adamantly opposed to the Japanese cooperating with the United States in any way, so after the war they got majorly pissed off. And guess where they ended up? They fled to North Korea and changed their last name from Nakamura to Chung. In North Korea they continued the work they had begun with General Ishii."

  Cotten scanned the article then glanced up. "But they'd probably be too old now to be of any consequence, if they aren't dead already."

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  Ted smiled. "Right. But guess what, they had a daughter, Chung Moon Jung. It took a couple of days to get any kind of info on her, but our research team came up with a few references. There isn't much you can find out about the goings-on inside North Korea, especially individuals, so we were lucky we came up with anything at all. It appears that Dr. Chung is a high-ranking official working for the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. She's got a couple of doctorates, including one in biochemistry from the University of Beijing. She's fluent in a number of languages, including English." Ted nodded as he arched both brows. "We also found out that her health is failing. Parkinson's disease among other ailments. Is it coming together for you now?"

  Cotten's jaw dropped. "This Chung Moon Jung might be our Korean woman connection."

  "Exactly. Unfortunately we don't have anything terribly substantial to go on, but it makes sense. It makes even better sense when your hear this. The facility in Pingfang is the one mostly associated with human experimentation, but the actual designation of the term Unit 731 didn't come into use until 1941 or

  '42—I can't remember." Ted tapped the folder of papers with the tip of his index finger. "It's in here somewhere. Anyway, Unit 731 became kind of a generic term that embraced not only the Pingfang-based unit, but also all the satellite facilities. Some of those who were involved with Unit 731 have come forward in recent years and provided testimony. I ran across one account of a nurse who said she worked in a facility on an island in Korea Bay under the supervision of Doctors Nakamura, a husband and wife team."

  Ted's mood darkened, and he folded his hands on top of the folder.

  "There's something else, isn't there?" Cotten said.

  "Unfortunately. We went back through the Navy transcripts and found that before the confrontation with the North Koreans, thePitcairn had been anchored off a remote volcanic island in Korea Bay. They were there for several days while they tried to repair damage to the electronic navigation and communication system caused by an onboard fire. Remember, the Pitcairn was a research vessel. Among the passengers were some young botanists."

  Suddenly, Cotten put the puzzle pieces together. "Oh, Christ," she said.

  "Those kids went on the island and found the ruins of the Unit 731 lab."

  "And stumbled across Black Needles."

  THREE-WAY

  Cotten sat at her desk, making notes on a yellow legal pad about everything Ted had just gone over with her. Pieces were coming together and forming a huge complicated picture. Maybe she should fill Dr. Swan in on the latest.

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  She retrieved Charlotte Swan's card from her purse and stared at it a minute, wondering if the CDC director was the right contact. Maybe she should try the FBI.

  Let's see where the CDC is taking this first. Cotten dialed, and after getting Dr. Swan's secretary, she was finally connected.

  "Hi, Doctor Swan. This is Cotten Stone. If you recall I—"

  "Of course I recall. Funny you should phone. I was just looking over the forensics report on the Sutton coffin."

  "That was fast."

  "I had them fax me a copy. Got it maybe thirty minutes ago."

  "Find anything?" Cotten asked.

  "Nothing definitive, but there are a few suspicious results."

  "Like what?"

  "Possib
le traces of pathogens. I think it warrants further investigation. As a matter of fact, I was just about to assemble a team to go to West Virginia."

  "I'm so relieved. I was afraid you would come up with nothing or wouldn't see the need to follow up."

  "Oh, absolutely not."

  "Dr. Swan, I have more to tell you. I know it isn't within your jurisdiction, but I think you need to know what you might be looking at here and what it involves."

  "I appreciate that."

  Cotten revealed everything Ted told her about Unit 731, the Pitcairn, Dr. Chung, and her family. Swan seemed to listen intently with only a few questions.

  "What do you think?" Cotten asked when she finished.

  "I think it's scary as hell and I'd better do my end of the job quickly. Actually, I think this goes way beyond the CDC. I'm going to get in touch with some friends at Health and Human Services along with the FBI. Homeland Security will probably need to get involved as well. They're all going to have to help carry the ball."

  Cotten leaned back in the chair, her hair tumbling over the back. She closed her eyes. "That would be great. I really want to thank you, Dr. Swan."

  "No, I want to thankyou. I'll get back in touch as soon as I know where we are with all this. I'll talk to you soon."

  "You bet," Cotten said, letting the receiver slide down the side of her cheek and come to rest on her jaw.Thank God, someone is listening to me.

  ***

  "Heard anything?" Ted asked as the elevator door closed and began its journey up the shaft in the SNN building.

  Cotten watched their reflections in the polished bronze doors. "No. Three days ago Dr. Swan sounded like she was gung-ho. She seemed to really believe we were onto something more than just a new flu strain."

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  "Have you called her?" Ted asked.

  "Twice yesterday afternoon, but her secretary said she wasn't in. I don't want to be a pest. She said she'd get back to me. I guess I should be patient. I did call Pete Hamrick, and he said he would check up on the status, but I haven't heard back from him either."

  The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, and a new hire from postproduction got in with them. Cotten couldn't remember his name but offered a greeting as did Ted.

  Cotten discontinued her conversation about Charlotte Swan until she and Ted got off on the eighth floor and went into his office.

  Ted eased the door closed behind them. Cotten took off her coat and laid it over a chair.

  "I simply don't get it," she said. "Swan was so ready for action. She even said she was going to take this to various Washington agencies. I felt relieved, like we had handed it off to people who could take care of it. I mean Washington, for Christ's sake."

  Ted chuckled and sat behind his desk. Then his face turned serious. "I think I know all your secrets. Right?"

  "Mmm," Cotten said, sitting opposite him.

  "I believe you've pushed something important to the back of your mind, like you're trying to ignore it."

  Cotten tilted her head and bit away a hang nail.

  "Don't forget who and what we believe you're up against. Shit, it freaks the beejesus out of me. I go home every night and check out the sunset, wondering if it's the last one I'll ever see or when I see the next one will I be thrashing on the floor under my window bleeding from every hole in my body like Jeff Calderon. I have frigging nightmares and there's not a damn thing I can really do about it. All this shit is going on in the background of everybody's life like white noise. Who'd believe us if we told them? Who would listen if we got in their faces on our evening newscast and said demons and devils are plotting our demise? Even if we gave specifics, we'd either cause mass hysteria or the FCC

  would find a way to revoke our license."

  "So what are you trying to tell me, Ted?"

  "Okay, I'll say it and lay it out there, but I know it's already stapled to the very front of your brain. Those agencies in Washington may not be the answer at all. Give Director Swan another call and then make a decision. But you're the one who has to make that call. You are the only one. And you know it."

  Cotten knew Ted was right. "I'll call Pete Hamrick and see what he knows."

  Ted picked up his phone and handed it to her. "Know his number?"

  "I've got it in my cell," she said.

  "Look it up and use this phone. I want a three-way on speaker."

  "What?"

  "See if you can get John on the line first."

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  Cotten glanced at her watch and did the math. "He should be available." She opened her list of contacts on her cell and found John's. Then she punched the number into Ted's phone.

  After waiting for his secretary to put her through, Cotten heard John's voice. "Hey, any news?"

  "I have you on speaker. I'm here with Ted. This whole T-Kup thing has blown up. Like I told you earlier, I've been in contact with the CDC, but haven't heard back. Director Swan was going to get a number of government agencies involved, but now Ted and I are wondering if that's the right course. You know what I'm getting at? I'm going to call Pete Hamrick again and see what he knows. Ted thought you should be on the line." She paused a moment, then said. "I'm glad I called. It's so good to hear your voice."

  "Yours too."

  "Hold on." She pressed the flash button, dialed Hamrick's number, and when it started to ring she brought John back on line.

  "Pete Hamrick," the voice answered.

  "Hi, Pete. It's Cotten Stone. I have you on speaker with Ted Casselman, SNN news director." She didn't see any reason to mention John and have to go into a long explanation. "I was wondering if you have heard anything from Director Swan?"

  There was a long pause.

  "Cotten, I'm not sure how to tell you this. I didn't call you earlier because I've been wrestling with it."

  "Spit it out, Pete. What is it?"

  "I talked at length with Dr. Swan this morning, and she says they are dropping the investigation, that there is not enough evidence to go on, that it's only conjecture at this point."

  Cotten smoothed the hair from her face, feeling the dampness of perspiration breaking out at her hairline. "What do you mean? She said there was possible evidence of pathogens from the coffin forensics. She was sending a team to West Virginia and calling authorities in Washington. She definitely thought it more than conjecture."

  "I don't know what to say, Cotten. To put it bluntly, she said the whole thing sounded like a crock, concocted by you and your network to boost your ratings." There was a long silence. Then he said, "I'm really sorry. I gotta go." The line clicked off.

  "John, you still there?" Cotten asked.

  "Yes."

  "What are your thoughts?"

  "Sounds dubious to me. Very suspicious."

  "I agree," Ted said.

  "Dr. Swan was anxious to move ahead with the investigation when I last spoke to her," Cotten said. "Something happened. Somebody shut her down. Why?"

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  "Had to have something to do with her Washington connections," Ted said. "As soon as she started singing to somebody over there, the roadblocks went up."

  "But why?" Cotten said.

  "It doesn't matter," John said. "The CDC isn't going to do anything."

  "So where does that leave us?" Cotten said.

  "I have an idea," John said. "It's a long shot, but I'm going to call in some favors. Plan on me flying out of Rome late tonight or first thing in the morning. I'll call you with my flight info as soon as I know."

  "To New York?" Cotten asked.

  "No, Washington."

  CAMP DAVID

  When Cotten first caught sight of John coming through customs at Dulles, the compelling desire to run to him whirred within her, starting deep inside, then prickling its way across every nerve and out to her fingertips.

  Instead, she smiled and waved.

  Cotten realized she had stopped walking and was glued in place, watching him approach. Finally, within touching distance, John stood
his rolling Travelpro on end and hugged her. "Hello, Cotten Stone."

  She felt his breath on her cheek. "Hello, John Tyler," she whispered into his shoulder.

  Then his arms released her, and the bite of cold air replaced the warmth of his embrace. "How was your flight?" she asked, tossing back her hair and tying to regroup her emotions.

  John grasped the handle and towed his bag behind as they walked. "Not bad. It actually gave me some undisturbed time to think and prepare for what I'm going to say."