One of Bernard’s friends asked the man what type of engineering he was studying, and the man said he was designing fighter jets. The young boys were enthralled with his story as he pulled out 10 Euros and told the waitress that coffees and sweets were his treat.
The boys were delighted.
The man sat down at the table with Bernard and his two friends as they all shared some dreams and tall-tailed stories about teachers at Sainte-Luc’s until the back door of the café opened and a stranger ran in shouting.
“Does anyone in here know a six-year-old boy named Philippe? He’s outside crying. Says he got off the bus to follow his brother and got lost.”
Bernard and his friends swapped looks of disbelief.
“Il ma suivi? Il va avoir des ennuis avec ma mere,” Bernard complained to his friends about the trouble Philippe would be in when they got home. Bernard followed the man out the back door as he prepared the words of scolding he was about to deliver to his little brother.
Bernard’s friends kept talking with the engineering student.
As Bernard walked through the back door, the stranger pointed inside the Volkswagen van. Bernard looked inside then felt a huge shove on his back that pushed him into the rolling van as the driver took off and the sliding door slid shut behind him. Bernard’s mouth was quickly taped, and his hands were bound.
The engineering student checked his watch, apologized to the boys for his quick departure and wished them well in their studies.
“Dites a votre ami bonne chance a l’ecole,” he said as he walked out the café and down the street to the waiting van.
* * *
30
* * *
LyonBio
Lyon, France
US Navy Captain “Camp” Campbell, comfortably dressed in civilian attire and retired FBI agent Billy Finn were both bored stiff by the end of their first day “monitoring” the progress of tularemia vaccine development at LyonBio. They popped into Leslie Raines’ office to voice their boredom.
“Watching paint dry,” Camp started.
“Grass growing,” Finn added. “Either has a million times more energy and action than biomedical research, Raines. How do you do it?”
“And this is accelerated work, gentlemen. How would you like to babysit this process for 15 years as a conventional drug or vaccine moves down the pipeline?” Raines answered not looking up from her computer screen.
Camp walked over to the TV in Raines’ small office, turned it on and flipped through channels until he found some English. It was CNN world news.
“A nuclear scientist was killed in a blast in Tehran this morning, the Iranian news agency reported, in the latest in a string of attacks that Iran has blamed on Israel. A motorcyclist placed a magnetic bomb under the scientist’s Peugeot 405, the state-run IRNA news agency said. The blast also wounded two others. State television channel Press TV reported later that the scientist’s driver had died in a hospital from his injuries. The Iranian ambassador to the United Nations condemned what he called ‘cruel, inhumane and criminal acts of terrorism against the Iranian scientists.’”
Camp and Finn were jolted out of their fixated television news focus by a loud commotion outside and a stream of people running down the hallway past Raines’ door.
“What the heck?” Raines said as she stood and leaned into the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Camp asked nonchalantly.
“Beats me, but everyone looks pretty riled up,” Raines said. “Wanna go take a look?”
Camp and Finn followed Raines out and down the hallway to the main lobby of LyonBio. A sizeable crowd or more than 200 people had gathered outside the CEO’s executive offices as more streamed in.
Two police officers from the Bureau de Police, dressed in white shirts with light blue berets, stood outside the executive office. Two more agents with Interpol and the Deputy Chief of Police for Lyon spoke with a distraught Thierry Gaudin on the other side of the glass walls.
Raines scanned the growing crowd and spotted Pipi Chandre, the client manager who served as her “go to” problem-solver and who spoke fluent English. Camp and Finn followed Raines as she made her way through the throng.
“Pipi, what’s going on?”
Pipi was almost hysterical.
“Mr. Gaudin’s executive secretary came out a moment ago and told some of the workers that Mr. Gaudin’s oldest son, Bernard, was kidnapped after school today.”
“Kidnapped?” Finn asked.
“Yes. Terrorists have taken him.”
“For ransom? Money?” Finn asked.
“We don’t know.”
The investigators from Interpol led Thierry out of his office and out the front door into a waiting vehicle and away from the legion of his beloved employees as rumors and speculation flew wildly.
Tel Aviv, Israel
Mossad agents Reuven and Yitzhak poured through their daily intelligence reports. Nuclear inspectors were, once again, denied access to several of the Iranian nuclear sites.
Inspectors from the International Atomic Energy Agency, or IAEA, were back in Iran doing the one-step, two-step dance. The steps seemed to be the same each time the dance music was played. Iranian officials always looked forward to IAEA inspections, and they welcomed inspectors to the airport each time. But when it came time for special requests and surprise locations, the Iranians always had an excuse. IAEA inspectors were in Iran every three months, and sites that were inexplicably “unavailable” one month would be put on the list to see three months later.
Yitzhak picked up the phone and called a junior officer in Austria.
“Make the calls, Sasha, and get a few major media outlets to carry this one line: ‘the IAEA does not look at today’s setback in a negative light. Iran continues to be cooperative and we look forward to our visit in three months.’ Do you copy, Sasha?”
“Yes.”
“I need it three places.”
“Got it.”
Reuven looked through a variety of intel reports coming out of Europe, the Middle East and Northern Africa. One headline in particular grabbed his attention: SON OF BIOTECH EXECUTIVE KIDNAPPED IN LYON, FRANCE.
Reuven read deeper. “Bernard Gaudin (15), son of LyonBio President and CEO, Thierry Gaudin, abducted in broad day light – ransom demands posted on Internet.” Reuven leaned over and clicked on the video link pasted in the classified digital report.
The video was homemade, anything but professional, which made the experience all that more real. The camera pulled back from an image of a black flag with red blood letters that spelled SPEAK. The mask-like face of a small non-human primate seemed to gaze at the letters.
Three adults were standing, two on the left side and one on the far right. They were wearing wool ski masks with cut-outs for eyes, nose and mouth. They were dressed completely in black. In the center of the table was a 15-year-old boy whose mouth was taped shut, and his hands were bound behind his back. Bernard was stripped naked and crammed on one side of an Allentown two-cage metabolic non-human primate cage, 32-inches wide, 29-inches deep and 32-inches high. Feeders and watering units were affixed to the cage. A sliding socialization door separated Bernard from the empty companion cage next to him.
One of the masked men spoke into the camera.
“LyonBio murdered 24 monkeys this week with poisonous gases and mists.”
The video cut to a clip of amateur video allegedly taken on someone’s iPhone from inside LyonBio’s pilot house. Reuven watched four monkeys gasp for their last breaths and die.
“There are 172 more rhesus monkeys that are on death row waiting to be executed later this week. The president and chief executive officer of LyonBio is a Frenchman by the name of Thierry Gaudin. He and his wife Rochelle have three beautiful children. This is their 15-year-old son, Bernard. Their daughter Marie is just 13 years old, and she has a beautiful voice. We know, because we heard her sing in her choir at Sainte-Luc’s. The cage next to Bernard is reserved for Thierry
Gaudin’s six-year-old son, Philippe. Don’t worry, Philippe. When we pick you up, we’ll make sure you have a football in your cage because we know you want to win the World Cup for France one day.”
Reuven rubbed his eyes in pain. This was not good.
“If LyonBio does not…DOES NOT…stop all animal testing within 24 hours…then we will continue their animal tests right here on Bernard who has volunteered for duty.”
The masked man next to the spokesman pulled out a scalpel and a set of jumper cables and a car battery. He held one end of the jumper cables near the wire Allentown cage while the other was attached to the car battery.
“In the first 24 hours of human experimentation, we will begin with shock therapy to see how electrical charges affect the human brain of a 15 year old.”
The loose end of the jumper cables was attached to the metal cage. Sparks flew and Bernard screamed through the tape on his mouth.
“After 48 hours, little Philippe will join his brother as we inject the boys with cleaning chemicals to see if their bodies want to reject those chemicals. Logical, right?”
Reuven closed his eyes in disgust.
“But after 72 hours….well, that’s where we get to the good stuff. We will hold a ‘live’ lab on the Internet where aspiring young biomedical researchers can watch us perform a necropsy on these two brothers. You will be able to see first-hand how bad these tests were on humans. Unlike animals, I’m sure that both Bernard and Philippe will want to tell all of you that these experiments hurt. The animals say the same things, but no one at LyonBio appears to be listening. So SPEAK, A Voice for the Animals, will.”
Reuven covered his clenched fist with the relaxed fingers on his left hand.
“If, within 24 hours…Thierry Gaudin announces on television that LyonBio is stopping all…ALL…animal testing…and if we see the GEFCO trucks pull into LyonBio and load all remaining 172 monkeys, then we will not ask little brother Philippe to join his big brother Bernard in the first round of shock testing. If within the first 48 hours, we verify that LyonBio has turned from its evil ways and animal testing has ended at LyonBio, then we will make sure Bernard finds his way back to the café so he can finish his cappuccino. If not, we plan to release our research data in the form of more videos within two days.”
The camera zoomed in for a close-up of the spokesman.
“TICK-TOCK, TICK-TOCK.”
The picture went dark.
Sainte-Consorce Suburb
Lyon, France
When Lieutenant Colonel Raines, US Navy Captain “Camp” Campbell and retired FBI agent Billy Finn arrived at the Gaudin’s house, Marie and Philippe were already in bed and the dining room chairs were filled with Interpol, Europol and Lyon police department officials. Raines had called General Ferguson quickly before she was led out of LyonBio. Ferguson called the SECDEF’s office who quickly informed CIA and State. Europol and Interpol were briefed on the international security ramifications of the project, but no specific details were mentioned.
Thierry Gaudin knew what he was manufacturing, but he had no idea who the beneficiary of the vaccines would ultimately be.
Rochelle Gaudin’s face was red, and her eyes were swollen. Bernard had only been missing for nine hours, but his mother had endured a lifetime of agony already.
When the Lyon police officers ushered Raines, Camp and Finn into the Gaudin home, Rochelle had no idea who they were, and Thierry only slightly recognized his new client. It was, in fact, “her” project that caused the rhesus monkey deaths. All the money in the world that he might generate for this project was not worth the life of his oldest son Bernard.
“It is finished, Leslie. Done. I want no more part of this project,” Thierry said surrendering with his hands and dismissing her arrival. “I know this is a classified project that the Americans want completed, but no more…not with LyonBio, Leslie. Done.”
Camp and Finn stood in the back of the dining room as Leslie moved in and sat next to Rochelle.
“Parlez-vous anglais?” Raines asked.
“Yes, I studied two years at Boston College, nice Jesuit school,” Rochelle said.
“I’m so sorry about your son. I can only imagine the fear you must be going through.”
“What’s your name?”
“Leslie…Leslie Raines.”
“My name is Rochelle. Do you have children, Leslie?”
Raines paused.
“No…no I don’t.”
“Then I assure you…you cannot imagine my fear.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thierry said this is your project…these were monkeys for your experiments…perhaps you can imagine how I must feel about you right now.”
The Interpol, Europol and Lyon police officers stared at Raines, Camp and Finn with no attempt to hide their disgust.
“Americans!” one of the officers uttered under his breath as the others affirmed the same contempt.
Camp stepped up and over toward Thierry.
“Mr. Gaudin, would it be possible to have a private conversation with you and your wife?”
“I don’t even know who you are,” Thierry said with a face full of anguish.
“My name is Camp…I’m a trauma physician…my friend here is Bill, he’s an investigator. These police agencies of yours are the best in the business. They have an international reputation, and I’m sure they are working diligently this very minute trying to find your son. Please, sir, may we have five minutes alone with you and Mrs. Gaudin?”
Thierry looked at Rochelle who nodded, so he asked the French officers to step out for a few seconds. They all reached for their cigarette packs and begrudgingly complied.
“I’m going to tell you something that I shouldn’t, but I don’t think we have any other options at this point,” Camp started.
Raines and Finn shot a concerned look over at Camp as Finn started to pace behind the dining room chairs.
“We believe a group wants to launch a biological weapons attack on an entire country. The lives of more than seven million grandparents, children and parents are at stake. Your company was selected to manufacture this vaccine out of thousands of potential companies around the world. You give seven million people their best chance of surviving the unthinkable.”
“You want me to trade my son for seven million people?” Rochelle asked as tears welled up in her eyes.
“No, I want you to give us 24 hours to find your son and seven weeks to manufacture this vaccine.”
“No. Absolutely not. This program is over,” Thierry demanded.
“Then your company is over, Thierry, as well as the future of biomedical research and the hopes of improving human health. It doesn’t matter if you use monkeys, beagles, rats, worms or fruit flies, the animal rights extremists will always paint a target on your back. We have to fight extremism wherever it exists. We can fight this, and we can get your son back unharmed. We have a plan.”
Thierry was indignant. He didn’t want to hear anything Camp had to say.
“How?” Rochelle asked.
Billy Finn stepped in.
“Announce tomorrow morning that you are stopping all research using non-human primates. We have arranged for two GEFCO trucks to return to the loading docks tomorrow morning. The local TV news and newspapers will carry the story immediately.”
“I thought you wanted us to continue,” Thierry said now thoroughly confused.
“Thierry, I want you to gather up all of the workers who have access to the pilot plant and hold a private meeting with them. Tell them that you must conduct one more test with four more monkeys.”
“Four more dead monkeys mean I have a dead son, Mr. Finn,” Thierry said as his anger began to boil.
“Leslie will change the test chemical to an anesthesia. The monkeys will fall asleep for a few hours. They won’t be dead.”
“What’s the point?” Rochelle asked.
“You have employees who have, perhaps unknowingly, caused this to happen.”
“That’s impossible,” Thierry said.
“Thierry…think about it. Someone took video inside the pilot plant on a cell phone camera. No one other than your employees has authorized access. If they took unauthorized video once, then this man or woman will want to take it again, especially if they think you lied on TV.”
“So they give the video to these terrorists, and then they kill our son?” Rochelle asked.
“No. We will be monitoring the pilot house to see who your video artist is. They may not know it, but they will lead us to your son,” Camp said adding the final components.
“How do you know this will work?” Thierry said as he softened a bit.
“Have they offered you a better plan, Mr. Gaudin?” Finn said pointing to the gaggle of Interpol, Europol and Lyon police officers smoking outside on their porch.
“You can do this alone?” Rochelle asked.
“No. I have a friend who runs security for a life sciences company in Switzerland. He’s a former MI6 officer with British intelligence. He has more experience with animal rights extremists than anyone else on this planet. This is his plan. If you give us the go ahead, he can be here by sunrise,” Finn said.
“What about them?” Thierry asked referring to the conclave of investigators in front of his house.
“Let them continue on a parallel path. One of us will find your son,” Camp said.
* * *
31
* * *
LyonBio
Lyon, France
All of the LyonBio employees were gathered in the main lobby of the office complex. A podium was set up outside the glass walls of the executive offices. Media microphones adorned with call flags and logos filled the podium as three TV news crews were positioned with cameras on tripods 30 feet back. Employees gathered on all sides.
Camp and Raines stood in the middle of the throng of onlookers. In the very back of the lobby, Billy Finn was dressed in a janitor’s uniform and stood next to another janitor. Marvin Jones had just arrived from Geneva, Switzerland and was quickly outfitted in a LyonBio custodial uniform complete with an ID badge and access cards.
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