Hybrid (Brier Hospital Series Book 7)

by Lawrence Gold

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Zack was sitting on the couch in the Denisovan School library reading his latest edition of Hacker News Magazine on his iPad.

  He was so enthralled in the material that he didn’t notice Jorge’s presence.

  “A little light reading,” Jorge said.

  Zack, startled, looked up. “It used to be, but now it’s so full of code and enormous password keys, that it gives me a headache.”

  “I’m so far away from that material, that I don’t even know how to ask an intelligent question,” Jorge said as he pulled up a chair. “Do you mind if I join you for a few minutes?”

  “Not at all.” Zack paused for a moment as he stared at Jorge. “You clearly have something in mind.”

  “How’s the surveillance going?”

  “It’s okay, but boring. It’s like those police stakeouts you see on television. Wait, wait, wait…boring, boring, boring.”

  “But necessary,” Jorge said.

  Zack stared at Jorge. “I know you have great respect for both Adam and me, but why send kids…we are kids, to do men’s jobs?”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Zack. You have unique skills, but more than that, your potential is unparalleled. I’d like to help you to develop them…to be your mentor and your friend. There’s so much we can do together.”

  “What about Adam?”

  “Adam, too, has great gifts, but he’s impatient, and too impulsive. Where we’re going…where we need to go, those characteristics could compromise us.”

  “It’s statements like, ‘where we are going’ and ‘where we need to go’ that drive me nuts, pardon the expression. They’re so vague that, at times, I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.”

  Jorge smiled. “That’s one of the reasons I like you so much; you’re open and honest.”

  “Is there some other way to be?”

  Jorge shook his head. “That’s an incredibly naïve question, and I know that you understand and won’t be offended. If you choose to live in the abstract, that philosophy works well. You want to live in the real world with flawed people and failed institutions, you’d be lost, and worse than that, you’d be ineffective.”

  “Ineffective?”

  “I don’t see you as someone who wants to stand around with his hands in his pockets in the face of evil and inequity.”

  “But,” Zack said, “I don’t want to live a life of frustration and disappointment either. I’m no Don Quixote.” He paused. “I want to do something tangible. Something I can hold in my hand. Something that will help people.”

  “I understand,” Jorge said. “You’re young and I’m willing to bet that how you choose to serve may change over time. In any case, whatever path you take, you will have my complete support.”

  “How much longer will we continue our surveillance, and what’s the endpoint?”

  “I’m working on Vega from several directions, yours is only one. My objective is his total personal and political destruction. He may never pay for what he did to my family, but I’m confident that the Spanish government will extract its own pound of flesh.”

  “And,” Zack asked, “that will satisfy you?”

  Jorge managed a mirthless smile. “Of course not, but that’s all there is.”

  Zack took over from Adam Friday at noon.

  “Vega has new company, and perhaps we do, too,” Adam said. “He has two new gorillas with him on security detail, plus the embassy is under additional surveillance. “ Adam pointed to a shiny black Ford Expedition.”

  “Who are they?” Zack asked.

  “One man in his late fifties, the other in his twenties. Both are wearing dark suits and ties. They’re either evangelical Mormons, seeking salvation for all, or the FBI. I’m betting on the latter.”

  “Did you get them on film?” Zack asked.

  “Not film, Zack, on my SD card. I’ll show it to Jorge when we get back.”

  Zack met with Adam and Jorge back in Emeryville at 5:30 p.m.

  When Jorge studied the images in the small camera screen, he said, “Let me have the card. We’ll look at this on my computer.” Jorge inserted the SD card into a USB adaptor that brought the images onto his 22 inch flat screen monitor. He frowned as he studied Vega coming and going with his new bodyguards. When he got to the men from the Expedition, he paused, focused on the older man, and zoomed in. He said,” My God, it’s my old FBI friend, James Olsen.”

  “You know him?” Adam asked.

  “Damn well I do. He’s been on my ass ever since I set foot in this country.”

  “What does that mean?” Zack asked.

  “I don’t know, but if he’s on to us, we’re in trouble.” He paused. “Suspend the surveillance for now. I must look into this more deeply.” He stared at Zack. “I’m going to need your special skills again.”

  “What this time?”

  “You got Vega’s schedule without difficulty,” Jorge said. “Now I want you to hack deep into his personal files. I think they’ll be revealing.”

  Zack closed the magazine. “You think he’d keep damaging information on the Embassy computer? I’m guessing not. This isn’t a stupid man.”

  “I don’t know, Jorge said. “Perhaps he’s just arrogant enough, but,” he said, reaching into his wallet and extracting an index card, “just in case, you can look at his private website.”

  Zack took the card. “How did you get this address?”

  “We have many friends in high places.”

  “I’ll give it a shot.”

  Zack and Adam spent three hours rummaging through the Embassy website, but he couldn’t find specific information or files on Vega.

  “This is a complete waste of time,” Adam said. “Let’s try the other link.”

  When Zack brought up the site, he struggled for nearly an hour but couldn’t break in. “They’re using Barracuda or some other sophisticated firewall like it to protect the site.”

  “Can you get in?” Adam asked.

  “Given enough time and computer power, I can break into any site.” He turned to Adam and pointed to a stack of magazines on the bookshelf. “Hand me the December issue of Hacker News Magazine.”

  Zack paged through until he found an article entitled, “Advanced Firewalls—The Newest Scam.” He highlighted several links and began pasting them into his program. On the fifth try, the screen filled with folders. “Got it. I’m in.”

  “What now?” Adam asked.

  Zack pulled out a flash drive and held it up for Adam. “You won’t believe it, but this will hold 1 terabyte of data, that’s a trillion bytes.”

  “I can’t conceptualize such a number,” Adam said.

  Zack inserted the flash drive into his USB 3.0 port and began copying Vega’s folders. “The rest is up to Jorge. I’ll be damned if he wants me to get into these files. I wouldn’t know what to look for.”

  “Jorge’s a determined man,” Adam said.

  “I am, too,” Zack said. “I’m not crazy about stealing data. This is as far as I go.”

  Adam stood and stretched. “Now you’ll just have to convince Jorge.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  It was about noon in San Francisco at the Spanish Embassy. Zack and Adam were about to change shifts.

  “Vega has come and gone several times,” Zack said. “I tailed behind each time.”

  “Where did he go,” Adam asked.

  “To City Hall, and to several embassies…the usual,” Zack responded.

  Adam shook his head. “I’m getting pretty sick of this gig.” He paused and scanned the street. “I don’t see the FBI this morning. Maybe they’re giving up, too?”

  “No, they were here this morning.”

  Suddenly the black Expedition pulled up, brakes squealing. The two agents rushed, out with their auto pistols in one hand, and FBI ID cards in the other.

  Adam turned to run, but the younger agent blocked his path.

  “Freeze,” he said, and then turn
ed and cuffed Adam.

  The older agent had Zack cuffed as well.

  “What the hell is this all about,” Zack asked.

  “Shut up and get in the car,” Olsen said, forcing Zack’s head down as he entered into the back seat.

  “I want a lawyer,” Adam shouted.

  The young agent leaned over to Olsen, and smiled. “He wants a lawyer.”

  Olsen smirked and slid the Plexiglas separator closed.

  They drove to a tall building on California Street, parked near the rear of the underground garage and took the service elevator up to the fifteenth floor. They entered an unmarked office and the agents removed the cuffs and placed them together in a small room with a table and four chairs.

  Adam rose and went to the door, but found it locked.

  “What’s going on?” Zack asked.

  “I don’t know,” Adam said. “Just keep your mouth shut and demand a lawyer.”

  After thirty minutes, the door opened and the two agents entered. Olsen carried a worn leather briefcase. They sat across the table from Adam and Zack. “You know why you’re here?” Olsen asked.

  Adam stood. “Both you guys are going to be walking a beat…or whatever the FBI equivalent is by the time we’re through with you.”

  The young agent walked around the table and forced Adam back into his seat. “Shut up and just answer our questions.”

  Zack looked up. “What questions?”

  “Another smart ass,” Olsen said.

  Olsen looked from Zack to Adam and back. “I’m here to do you young men a big favor.”

  “The only favor you can do me,” Adam said, “is to let us go.”

  “All in good time,” Olsen said.

  “I’m making the assumption that you two don’t know what’s going on here,” Olsen said.

  “I know we’re being held here illegally and against our will,” Zack said.

  Olsen reached into his briefcase, extracted three, half-inch folders, and placed them on the table. “These are our files on the ETA terrorist, Jorge Moneo. They describe his activities before and after coming to this country. It makes for fascinating reading.”

  Adam reddened with anger. “We know about your files and the shit that the Spanish Security Forces doles out to you. I can’t believe that you’d give credence to anything coming from them. They’re the real terrorists.”

  Zack pushed away the folders. “We can cite you chapter and verse about the murderous Spanish security force and how they’ve committed atrocities and genocide against the Basque people. That an American, an FBI agent would side with them is beyond the pale.”

  “Moneo has done a good job with you,” Olsen said, pulling out several bound reports. These are from the United Nations, NATO, and the Court of Justice in The Hague. They are as balanced and objective as possible. While both sides are responsible, all agree that the ETA has, and continues to go too far in a cause they know they can’t win. Isn’t that one of the justifications that legitimize terrorist activities?”

  When Olsen pushed the reports across the table, Adam grabbed them and threw them back. “Reports are easy. Give me enough time, money, and political clout, and I’ll come back with reports that will certify you as a traitor and a mass murderer.”

  Olsen sighed. “Knowing Moneo’s history, I can understand, and even sympathize. Who knows what I might have done if our positions were reversed?”

  Zack stared at Olsen. He closed his eyes and emptied his mind of all thoughts. After a moment, he opened his eyes, and said, “I know that you think you’re doing the right thing, but,” he paused, “you’re wrong about Jorge.”

  Olsen turned to face Zack. “No, I’m not.” He looked from Adam to Zack. “I’ve done all I can. It’s unfortunate that you’re determined to learn the hard way.”

  “Are we done?” Adam asked.

  “Jorge has known that we’ve been watching. Now, you know, too.” Olsen said. “It takes a particular form of arrogance and/or naivety to disregard that fact. Let’s hope that you don’t cross a line from which there’s no point of return.”

  Later that afternoon, Jorge listened to Zack and Adam talk about their confrontation with Olsen. “The son-of-a-bitch won’t let go. I’ve been open and frank with him all these years, and although he doesn’t have one shred of evidence, he continues to target me.”

  “This isn’t political,” Zack said. “The man’s a true believer.”

  “And, you know that how?” Jorge asked.

  Zack stared at Jorge, but remained silent.

  “Okay,” Jorge said, nodding, “but he’s wrong.”

  “What should we do?” Adam asked.

  “I think you two have done enough. Picked up. Handcuffed. Interrogated. Nobody anticipated this. I thank you for your loyalty. I’ll need to consider alternatives.”

  “We’re still with you,” Adam said. “One hundred percent.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jorge said. “I can’t ask you to place yourselves under FBI’s scrutiny.” He paused. “Your future has just begun. They have the power to wreak havoc with your lives.”

  “We’re the ones to make that decision,” Adam said, staring at Zack.

  “We’re with you,” Zack said. “Just tell us how we can help.”

  Jorge rose and embraced the two boys. “Bless you both.” He paused. “Olsen may know a lot about me, but he has no idea of your abilities. He’s in for a surprise.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Zack was walking home with Ella. He felt good as he held her hand. When they came to their favorite bench, they sat.

  “You’ve always been great with me, Ella. I don’t understand why, but I just wanted you to know.”

  Ella squeezed Zack’s hand. “You’re still a mystery to me, but I can’t think of a life without you.”

  “Despite my peculiarities, you’ve always accepted me as I am.”

  “I wish you’d stop using those words.”

  “What words?” Zack asked.

  “You know… weird, peculiar, strange, and the like,” Ella said. “They come across as negative, but I think of your, excuse the word, oddities, as gifts.” She paused. “Have you ever questioned, how and why?”

  “I’m guessing it’s the luck of the draw, a genetic aberration or mutation…a freak,” he paused to look into Ella’s eyes, “okay, a good freak, but a freak nonetheless.”

  “Have you ever discussed this with Denise and Gabe?”

  Zack shook his head, ‘no’. “Denise has an investment in my normalcy, but she’s not blind, is she?” He paused. “She just wants to protect me.”

  “From what?” Ella asked.

  “From being different.”

  “Well the cat’s out of the bag on that one.” Ella paused. “Have you discussed your concerns with Jorge or Zeru? They’re both into genetic analysis, especially of those with Basque ancestry.”

  “What could they discover?” Zack asked.

  “You won’t know until you ask.”

  Later that week, Jorge was sitting with Zeru analyzing genetic profiles. After 15 minutes, Zeru looked up and said, “Zack is asking about getting his genetic profile.”

  Jorge look up. “What precipitated that?”

  “I don’t think it was any particular event,” Zeru said, “it’s just a lifetime of being different.”

  “I don’t know why he can’t celebrate his gifts. I’d sell my soul for them.”

  Zeru started to say something, and then stopped.

  “What?” Jorge asked.

  “We’ve had Zack’s genetic profile for years. How long can we, or should we keep it from him?”

  Jorge paced his office. “He can’t know, at least for now. Think of the disruption when he discovers that he’s unrelated to Gabe, and that he has more Neanderthal DNA than anyone we’ve ever studied. How would you feel if you were labeled a Neanderthal in this accepting world? Think of the reaction, the questions,” he paused for a long moment, “and the answers. They could destroy
him.”

  “You’re merely delaying the inevitable.”

  “So be it,” Jorge said. “We can’t deal with these revelations now. They’re too disruptive.”

  Zeru hesitated. “You never told me the source of the paternal DNA.”

  “And, I never will.”

  “What if Zack insists on his DNA profile?”

  “Then we’ll provide one. We can’t have him going to an outside laboratory where we can’t control the results.”

  "Remember the 1808 poem Marmion, by sir Walter Scott: ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.’”

  Jorge smirked. “No poem is going to interfere with my plans and Zack’s destiny.”

  Jorge was getting ready to leave for the day, when his secretary buzzed his intercom. “I have a General Collier here to see you.”

  “Does he have an appointment?”

  “You told me about him, sir. Would I have made an appointment for him without first getting your approval?”

  “I’m sorry. Forgive me. I’m tired. Tell him I’m busy.”

  “I’ve told him that already, and he’s still here. Want me to call the cops?”

  Jorge sighed. “Okay. Send him in.”

  When the general entered Jorge’s office, he extended his hand. “You’re a hard man to see, Professor.”

  Jorge smiled. “You’re a hard man to avoid, General.”

  “I’m here to deal, Professor.”

  “I talked with Dr. Ibarra. She said you were all stick and no carrot.”

  “I like her. She’s smart and beautiful…exotic, if you know what I mean.”

  “Basque women are among the most beautiful in the world,” Jorge paused. “And, loyal, too.”

  “Look, Professor, I don’t care what you’re into. My interest is in the boy…he’s perfect for us.” He pulled out several typed pages and handed them to Jorge. “We have virtually unlimited resources and will put them at your disposal if we can make a deal.”

  “First of all, General, Zack’s not a puppet. He has his own mind and his own values. You can’t point him at a project and get them done. It’s taken me a while to gain his confidence and his willingness to help with my projects.”