The First Family

by Michael Palmer

  When his cell phone rang, Lee figured it was Karen calling. The caller ID did show a D.C. area code, but it was not a number Lee recognized.

  He answered the call. “Dr. Blackwood here.”

  “Hello, Dr. Blackwood, this is Vera Sacks from XLR Labs calling with results from your priority job.”

  Excitement rose as Lee thought about Gleason and finally getting some answers.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “I have both sets of results for you. I’ll start with the SB sample.”

  Susie Banks, Lee thought.

  Lee had selected XLR Labs for their use of high-performance liquid chromatography and liquid chromatography-mass spectrometry, the two best techniques for identifying compounds by comparison. Like all doctors, Lee had suffered through organic chemistry, but the course was never in his wheelhouse, and he hated to admit the science XLR Labs used to analyze the ProNeural product line was a bit over his head. But the end result was easy enough to understand.

  Lee found a pen and some paper on the bookshelf and wrote down the compounds and amounts present as Vera read through the findings in the three different pills analyzed: SOAR, FOCUS, and SUPER O-3.

  In total, Lee’s list contained twelve different naturally occurring substances, including bacopa monnieri, an herb native to the wetlands of Eastern India, and periwinkle, the seeds of which yielded vincamine, thought to be a natural memory enhancer. In addition to ginseng, rosemary, vitamin D and K, as well as omega-3, the ProNeural pill line contained huperzine-a, an alkaloid compound found in firmoss; theanine, found in green tea; and tryptophan, an amino acid and mood enhancer obtained only through diet and supplements, best known for its association with turkey. There was also spearmint, basil, marjoram, palm, wheat, daisy, and dracaena, which Vera identified as a houseplant. When Vera read off the make-up of Cam’s supplements, they exactly matched the ingredients in the SB samples.

  Lee asked Vera to repeat her findings on the off chance he had missed something important. He checked off each item as she read it back to him, and no, he had not missed anything.

  “What is it, Dad?” Josh asked when Lee ended his call. “You seem a little freaked out.”

  But Lee did not answer. Instead he called his neurologist friend at the MDC, the person who had done Cam’s MRI and EEG, Dr. Marilyn Piekarski. When she answered, Lee gave a quick overview of the issue before he read through the results from XLR Lab’s analysis of the nootropics.

  “There’s virtually nothing in these,” Dr. Piekarski told Lee, confirming his suspicion. “Just a bunch of herbs and plant compounds.”

  “What’s your bottom line on this, Marilyn. Help me put some pieces together.”

  “I’m no expert, Lee, but I know some of these designer nootropics contain a class of drugs called racetams, which includes complex, synthetic compounds like piracetam. In the U.S., piracetam isn’t FDA approved and can’t be included in supplements like nootropics, but in the U.K. it’s less regulated and used to treat myoclonus, of all things. So, if you told me that compound was present in the ProNeural samples, or something like it, I might give my answer more thought. But it isn’t. Bottom line, these supplements aren’t causing Susie or Cam’s symptoms. Impossible.”

  * * *

  FLANKED BY Josh and Lee on the front porch of Susie’s cabin, Karen drank from her mug of coffee and dubiously studied Lee’s handwritten list of ingredients from XLR Lab’s report. She was dressed casually in jeans and a comfy sweatshirt; it was the way Lee remembered her when they’d come here in years past. Inside the cabin, Susie was still asleep. Valerie had gone out early to take a walk around the property and check out the lake.

  “So this makes no sense to me,” Karen said, focusing intently on the list. “I cook with a lot of these ingredients, and I don’t feel any smarter for it.”

  “Dr. Piekarski said some nootropics contain synthesized compounds, complex drugs manufactured in a lab, as opposed to the natural extracts like what we found in the ProNeural line.”

  “So what does this mean? What about Gleason?”

  “It means we’re still at square one,” Lee said. “It means that if this is what Gleason is giving Cam, it’s not causing his moodiness, organ enlargement, seizures, none of it. Same goes for Susie.”

  “What about the red spot in Susie’s eyes?” Karen asked.

  “CO poisoning, most likely,” Lee said. “We knew all along it was a possible cause.”

  “So this was all for nothing?” Karen’s voice was distressed. “I don’t buy it. Not for one second. Someone wants this girl dead, Lee. Someone wanted those twins dead, too. Something is wrong with Cam, and the link between all four of them is the TPI. There’s a reason. We need to find it.” She sounded sure of herself.

  Josh snapped his fingers. “Go back to what you said at the restaurant, Mom. Maybe this stuff isn’t the only thing Yoshi is giving his star students. Maybe he’s feeding them something more complex.”

  Lee and Karen gave him their full attention.

  “I mean—and I’m thinking out loud here,” Josh continued, “what if Yoshi is giving these kids something other than his placebo supplements to achieve his impressive results, and when complications arise, he’s burying the evidence? It would be easy enough to give Cam something without Dr. Gleason knowing—or maybe—” Josh paused, thinking it through. “Maybe Gleason’s helping Yoshi out. I mean there’s a reason Gleason’s tried so hard to keep you away from Cam, right, Dad? If these guys come up with some brain-boosting breakthrough, they’ll stand to make millions.”

  “Billions,” Lee corrected.

  “So call the president,” Josh said. “Tell him what we found in those supplements.”

  Karen shook her head, dismissing the idea. “And tell him I think Yoshi Matsumoto may be experimenting on Cam and the others? Tell him we don’t know if Gleason’s involved or not? That some experiment, we don’t know what, went wrong and now someone, we don’t know who, is going to try to take out Cam to hide the evidence? Look at how our last conversation with the president went down, Lee. First he’ll go apoplectic, and after that he’ll push me right out of the White House. We are teetering on the edge here.”

  “Well, what do you suggest?” Lee asked.

  “I’ll go back to Washington, right now, and be extra eyes and ears around Cam.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Lee said. “Maybe the president would go crazy, but Ellen won’t. I need to talk to Yoshi, see what else might be going on here. I’ll tell Ellen we got samples of Susie’s ProNeural nootropics tested and I have some questions, nothing alarming, but I’d like some clarification on a few things. She doesn’t need to know what we found just yet. I’ll ask for her help arranging a meeting for me with Yoshi and Dr. Gleason at the TPI. See where that leads us.”

  “What about me?” Josh asked.

  “You stay on guard duty,” Karen said. “We’ll drive into town, rent two cars. That way you and Valerie will each have a vehicle here. I’ll come back soon, but you can hold down the fort for a while, I trust.”

  “I spent years on patrol and post,” Josh said, his eyes glazing with the memory. “I can handle it. Not a problem.”

  “Yeah, well, here’s a problem, and I’m not sure how to fix it,” Karen said. “Until we figure out what’s going on, I’ve got to keep Cam away from the True Potential Institute, not to mention his doctor. He has the World Junior Chess Championships coming up. He’s going to want to train.”

  “And Gleason’s not going to suddenly drop Cam from his patient roster,” Lee said. “What do you suggest?”

  “I suggest you do more than just talk to Yoshi Matsumoto,” Karen said. “You’ve got to hurry up and get us some real answers.”

  CHAPTER 35

  When Karen arrived at the White House, it was early afternoon on a day when she was not scheduled to work. She went to the lower level, directly beneath the vice president’s office, where the Secret Service had a break room and some offices, including Ka
ren’s small space.

  Duffy was there, getting something to eat from one of the vending machines. When he saw Karen his expression shifted, as though he’d seen a ghost. After his odd reaction he slipped back to the normal Duffy—a fixed and pointed stare, jutting jaw, and rigid posture.

  He had his suit jacket off, and Karen could see the butt of his SIG Sauer sticking out from the Cloak Tuck IWB holster he wore. She used the same inside-the-waistband hybrid holster, which hid her gun so well no one ever suspected she was carrying. She also wore an ankle holster for her backup weapon—a Ruger LCPII .380 that weighed only 10.6 ounces unloaded. She carried a backup in times that called for heightened security. This was one such situation, but only Karen was on high alert.

  “What are you doing here?” Duffy asked in a clipped tone. “I thought you were on vacation.”

  “I came in to take care of some office work,” Karen said. “What’s Cam’s schedule for the rest of the day?”

  “Home from school, just hanging out in his room,” Duffy said. “I’m bringing him to the TPI in a few hours for his afternoon practice. I’ll tell you, I think that kid’s coming around. This thing with Taylor Gleason has really gotten to him. All he wants to do is play, practice, and beat him.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll go talk to Cam. He’s having a private lesson today, no TPI. I already made the arrangements. His coach is going to come here this afternoon instead of Cam going there.”

  “Why?”

  “Ellen thinks Cam needs as much time at home as possible while he recuperates.”

  Duffy seemed perplexed. “He’s feeling fine. I mean, he’s still Cam being Cam, moody and all that, but he’s up and about, no problems there.”

  “Well, Ellen thinks it’s best he limit himself to school and home for the next few days.”

  “All righty then. School and no TPI. Less for us to do. Fine by me.”

  This plan had been hatched hours ago, when Lee had made his call to Ellen. She had been glad to arrange the meeting with you, but regretfully could not join herself. To keep Cam away from the institute without revealing their suspicion of Yoshi and maybe even Gleason, Lee simply voiced concern about Cam overdoing it, and suggested he limit his activities for the time being. This was something Ellen was happy to present as her own idea so that Gleason and President Hilliard would not take exception. The only one who might be disappointed would be Cam. For that reason, Karen would go to his room to break the news herself.

  But first, something about Duffy continued to nag at her.

  “What’s up with your financial situation?” she asked bluntly. “Are you fine about that for now? No major stress?”

  Duffy took a big bite of the Snickers bar he had procured. “If the Nats don’t win tonight, I’m going to be a lot lighter in the wallet, but no, no major stress. Why do you ask?”

  Duffy might have been joking, but his constant betting had Karen worried. Even Lapham had said something to her about it.

  “You seem anxious to me is all. Be honest. Are you in any kind of trouble?”

  “Only if I don’t get back to my post,” Duffy said, his trademark smirk returning. “My boss can be a real hard-ass at times.”

  Duffy slipped his suit jacket on, giving Karen a chummy punch on her arm as he headed out the door.

  * * *

  KAREN TOOK the stairs to the second level. Once the White House had intimidated her, but that was ages ago. Now, it was just a home. Nannies to the rich and famous could probably relate.

  While the tourists toured below, the second level was like a monastery and had a hush typical for this time of afternoon. Cam’s parents were away, busy as always. Woody Lapham was leading the security team at West Point, where Ellen was to give a speech highlighting the contributions of women to national defense throughout history. Seniority should have made it Duffy’s gig, but his medical condition made Karen rethink the assignments. These days, Duffy kept mostly to the White House and was part of the team shuttling Cam to school and back.

  A separate team of agents had accompanied President Hilliard to Atlanta, where he was slated to speak at a major health-care summit. If Karen remembered his schedule correctly, he should arrive home in time for dinner, as was always his preference.

  Walking down the hall, Karen could hear the steady pulse of Cam’s electronic music bleating out at ear-damaging decibels. She knocked on his bedroom door, got no answer, so she knocked again, harder and with more authority.

  “Come in,” Cam yelled.

  Inside, Cam’s shades were drawn. The blue glow of his computer monitor lit the room like a nightclub. A pile of video games lay on the floor near some clothes that should have been in his hamper. No surprise, Cam had a chess game going. He had to be multitasking, because Karen saw other windows on his monitor displaying computer code that to her untrained eyes read like gibberish.

  Cam turned down the music.

  “Who are you playing?” Karen asked.

  “Taylor,” Cam said gloomily.

  “Tell him I said hello.”

  Cam typed something. “He says ‘hi’ back.”

  Kids today, thought Karen, lamenting the inevitable demise of the phone call. Still, if Gleason were trying to give his son a competitive edge, Karen doubted Taylor was aware. He and Cam were friendly rivals, and that friendship seemed to be continuing despite the role reversal.

  “Are you winning?” she asked.

  Cam shook his head. “Nope. But he’s helping me dox some of the players I’m supposed to go up against at the world championships.”

  “Dox?”

  “Yeah, doxxing,” said Cam. “It’s computer stuff. Kind of a hacking thing. You know that group Anonymous?”

  “Sure, vigilante hackers.”

  “Right. Well, they do doxxing all the time. It’s basically hacking into systems, looking for public and private records to expose people, find secrets, that sort of thing. We try to get dirt on our competitors so we can trash talk during the match.”

  “Chess players trash talk?”

  Cam shrugged. “Might not be a contact sport, but it can be a pretty brutal game.”

  “Where did you learn how to dox?” Karen said the word, still unsure what it meant.

  “My computer club. It’s all right.”

  “By ‘all right,’ I hope you mean legal.”

  Cam said nothing and Karen decided to let it go. He could dox all he wanted if it helped lift his spirits.

  “Mind if I turn on some lights?” she asked.

  Cam shrugged. She flicked a switch and blinked until her eyes adjusted to the glow.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” Cam said. “You know—the usual. I’m losing to a kid I normally beat. Again. What does that tell you?”

  “That’s something is still up.”

  “Yeah. Something.”

  Karen decided to switch topics. “I talked with your mom, and she wants you to stay home as much as possible. That means no trips to the TPI for a while. Just school and back, until you fully recover from surgery.”

  Cam spun around in his desk chair, looking frustrated. “If I don’t practice, I’m going to get crushed at the tournament. Taylor might as well go ahead and take my spot.”

  “Your instructor is going to come here instead,” Karen said. “It’s all been arranged.”

  Cam shrugged his acquiescence, though a glum expression remained. “Okay. I just want my old self back, you know?”

  “I do, buddy,” Karen said, giving his shoulder a tender squeeze. Turning, she scanned his desk, trying to be discreet about it. He had schoolbooks open, a good sign. It meant he was still showing interest in his studies. She was curious about his work. Having dedicated so much of her life to protecting Cam, watching out for him, seeing him grow and change, it was hard not to feel like an overprotective parent at times. But the impulse was there and Karen did nothing to fight it.

  “Everything good at school?” she asked. A little conversatio
n might make it seem less like snooping, she reasoned.

  “Yeah, it’s all right.” Cam had his one-syllable-word thing down pat.

  She poked through a stack of his school papers. There was a history quiz. A+. A science lab. A+. Some notes from English class. All seemed normal, good even. Cam was dealing with a lot, but he appeared to be holding his own.

  Then her eyes went to a piece of paper partially hidden underneath one of his notebooks. It was a printout from a word processing program. No name, no date, no heading at all, just the same two sentences repeated over and over again.

  I know what you are. I know what you do.

  I know what you are. I know what you do.

  When she closed the notebook, Karen saw those sentences spanned the length of the page.

  I know what you are. I know what you do.…

  “Cam, what’s this about?” Karen asked, holding up the sheet for Cam to see.

  “It’s nothing,” he said, avoiding Karen’s eyes.

  She could tell right away his nothing was really something.

  “I’m just curious, Cam,” Karen said, using softer tactics.

  Cam rose from his chair and reached for the paper. “It’s nothing,” he said, crumpling the page when Karen handed it to him. “I was just goofing off with some friends at school. That’s all.”

  Cam did not act like it was nothing, and Karen was not quite ready to give up on her inquiry. She thought about what he had said to Lee after his eye exam.

  Dr. Gleason’s a liar.

  “Is this about Dr. Gleason?” she asked.

  “No,” Cam said. He paused before answering, his head subtly nodding yes. Karen knew the brain was wired in such a way as to cause verbal and nonverbal behaviors to naturally match up. Cam might have picked up a lot of useful skills from the TPI, but lying was not one of them.

  “You said something to Lee about Dr. Gleason being a liar. What did you mean by that?”

  Instead of answering, Cam turned his back to Karen, a clear signal that this conversation had come to an end.

  CHAPTER 36

  Lee arrived at the TPI at precisely half past four in the afternoon. There was a lot riding on this meeting, and his anxiousness made the usual traffic and parking woes more bothersome than usual.