Hybrid (Brier Hospital Series Book 7)

by Lawrence Gold

  “Don’t use words that you don’t understand, Zack.” Jorge paused. “You blame me for Adam? That’s ridiculous. How could I have known?”

  “Anyone spending time with Adam should have seen his propensity for violence and his insensitivity to it. Even Ella saw that. Then, to make things worse, you hand him a gun and the training he needed to use it.” Zack studied Jorge. “Oh, this is a waste of time. You don’t get it. You’ll never get it.”

  Jorge reddened with anger. “How dare you talk to me that way, after all I’m…”

  “You’re what?” Zack asked.

  “Nothing,” Jorge said. “I still need to know your intentions when the FBI questions you.”

  “I’ll simply tell the truth, Jorge. You remember that there is such a thing as the truth?”

  “And, you’re willing to accept the consequences?”

  “That may sound foreign to you, Jorge, but yes. Besides, I may have no choice in the matter. I’m sure as hell not going to lie to save your ass.”

  “Just hold off for a while. I may have a way out of this for both of us.”

  As Zack walked to the door, he said, “I’m not holding my breath.”

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  It was Sunday morning. Gabe was trying to read the San Francisco Chronicle at the kitchen table while Denise stared out the window in silence. After a moment, he folded the paper, and said, “It’s no use. I just can’t concentrate.”

  “When can we expect to hear from Zack’s attorney?” Denise asked.

  “He said he’d call tomorrow afternoon. He has an appointment to meet with Inspector Olsen and the U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of California.” Gabe paused. “Olsen stated once more that Zack’s refusal to cooperate is compromising his ability to make a deal. They’re determined, this time, to nail Jorge.”

  “Let me try to talk with Zack again,” Denise said. “He’s being unreasonable—guilt has a way of doing that.”

  “There’s perceived guilt and real guilt,” Gabe said.

  “I’m afraid that he has a little of both,” Denise said. “I can’t stand the thought that he could go to prison.”

  “What about General Collier?” Gabe asked, “at least Zack wouldn’t have to face prison.”

  Denise shook her head. “I don’t know if Zack would go for that, especially as he feels the need to be punished. People are dead. Adam, even if he survives, will be a shell of himself.”

  “I can deal with the ‘don’t do the crime, if you can’t do the time’ philosophy,” Gabe said, “but we’re talking about Zack.”

  Just then the doorbell rang. Gabe went over and opened the door to Zeru Ibarra.

  “May I come in?” Zeru asked.

  “Of course,” Gabe said. “Come into the kitchen. I’ll pour coffee.”

  As Zeru approached, Denise, hesitated, looked into Zeru’s eyes, and then fell into her embrace.

  Gabe looked at Zeru quizzically. “Are you sure that you should be here talking with us?”

  Zeru’s eyes filled. “I’ve tendered my resignation at the Denisovan Institute.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Denise said. “I know how important your work there was to you.”

  “I’m just another of Jorge’s victims,” Zeru said. “You probably can’t understand what it had meant to me to be working with Jorge. He’s a hero of the Basque people.”

  “I’m Basque, too,” Denise said, “and although I was a child when I left, I understand the peoples’ reaction to Spanish oppression.”

  “I need to share something with you, but I don’t want to inflict more pain into a situation that’s been troublesome enough.”

  Gabe stared at Zeru. “I know that Zack’s my son despite the fact that we’re not biologically related.”

  Zeru brushed her hair back with trembling hands. “You’re a good man, Gabe, but, do you know the identity of Zack’s biological father?”

  “Zeru, please,” Denise pleaded.

  “The Denisovan Laboratory has had the data all along. We analyzed the staff and the students…it was all there. I just needed to look at it in detail, but I didn’t…I had no reason to.”

  Gabe stared at Zeru, then at Denise, and back to Zeru. “It has to be Jorge…nothing else makes sense.”

  Zeru nodded. “What are you going to do about telling Zack?”

  “We need to tell him,” Gabe said. “Eventually, he’ll find out, and it would be best if it came from us.” He paused as tears filled his eyes. “What will he think about me—am I still his father?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Gabe. You’re the only father that Zack has ever known. Have some faith in him.” The room remained quiet as Denise cried mournfully. After a few minutes, she blew her nose, and said, “What kind of a monster could do such a thing? Only a psychopath could think of such a crime.”

  “Initially, I thought so, too,” Zeru said, “but now I’m not sure.”

  “Why?” Gabe asked.

  “You’re the psychiatrist, Denise, so correct me where I’m wrong.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “Psychopaths are devoid of emotion. They lack empathy and show no remorse. None of that describes Jorge. He’s passionate about everything. He loves what he does, and especially adores the children in our program. His devotion to his cause is, I think, noble. I have no doubt that he loves both Zack and Adam, but especially Zack, and,” she paused, “this is critical, he’s remorseful for what has happened. How can you explain this?”

  “I say screw him,” Gabe said. “I don’t need a bullshit psychiatric explanation for evil. He did it, and damn it, he should pay.”

  Denise took and squeezed Gabe’s hand. “We’re all upset. In the bad-ole-days, we would call Jorge’s actions the consequences of a monomania, a single pathological preoccupation in an otherwise sound mind. His preoccupation, of course, is revenge.”

  “Exactly,” Zeru said. “I see it in him. Revenge has distorted everything in his life. It began with the brutal massacre of his family, especially his son.” She paused. “Don’t think for a moment that I’m excusing his actions. Gabe is right, he should pay.”

  “You know him best,” Denise said. “What do you think he’ll do?”

  “Vega is dead, but Salazar lives,” Zeru said. “Jorge won’t do anything or agree to any deal that prohibits his pursuit of Salazar. If Salazar were dead, Jorge would just plead guilty and accept his punishment.”

  Gabe studied his wife. “The power of such a monomaniacal obsession is astonishing—Jorge is a mindless, modern Captain Ahab.”

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  “It’s too nice a day to go home,” Zack said, as he and Ella departed the school campus. “Let’s go somewhere.”

  “Your car or mine,” she asked.

  “I’ll drive. I’m not quite over the last time you drove—my fingernail marks are still on your dashboard.”

  “Funny,” she laughed.

  They settled into Zack’s Prius and he pulled out, heading for Highway 24.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise,” Zack said.

  Zack took 880 south, exited on Marina Blvd in San Leandro, and drove west to the marina. They parked in the lot adjacent to the docks and walked to the spit of land that formed the starboard marina entrance. They sat on a bench and watched as boats entered and departed.

  Ella took a deep breath. “I love it here even though it’s so hazy today that you can barely see across the bay.” She paused. “What’s going to happen, Zack? Nobody tells me anything and that just makes things worse.”

  “I don’t know. My parents hired an attorney, but thus far there are no charges against me. That won’t last. They must, by now, be onto Jorge, but I don’t know if he’ll implicate me.”

  “Implicate you in what?”

  Zack shook his head. “Sorry, wrong word. I don’t know what he’ll say about my knowledge of his plans and what role I played in killing Vega.” He paused. “I can’t say more without involving you.”<
br />
  Ella took his hand. “If you’re involved, I’m involved.”

  “I don’t want to get into specifics. It’s not smart, and I must admit that it’s mortifying.”

  Ella grasped his hand. “What can you tell me about Zack Berg that I don’t already know?”

  “We all develop concepts of ourselves, our honesty, integrity, and decency. My understanding of myself has taken a big hit. I’m not sure who or what I’ve become.” He paused. “I’m reasonably intelligent and, I thought, more perceptive than most, and yet I allowed Jorge to fool me completely—to involve me in things that I would never have touched with a ten-foot pole.”

  “You liked and trusted him,” Ella said, “and I think he returned the favor. That makes his betrayal even more difficult for you.”

  Zack’s eyes welled with tears. “I see Vega’s head exploding. I think of Adam losing it and killing all those innocents, and then turning the gun on himself. Think of the magnitude of self-hatred that drove him to suicide.”

  Ella’s eyes widened. “But, you were there.”

  Zack nodded. “But I had nothing to do with it. I was completely shocked when Adam pulled his pistol and killed him.”

  “I hate to pour it on now, Zack, but you were so goddam sure of yourself. You always had it easy. Hell, a little adversity would have served you well. I always felt that you were too trusting, and that some day that would get you into trouble.”

  “You’re right. It has.”

  After Zack dropped Ella off at school for her car, he drove to Emeryville and the Denisovan School. He walked into the small locker room and retrieved his belongings. As he left, Jorge suddenly appeared in his path.

  “May I have a moment?” Jorge asked.

  “My attorney advised me to keep away from you.”

  “After all we’ve been through, don’t you owe me the courtesy of a face to face meeting?”

  “I don’t owe you shit,” Zack cried. “I have nothing to say to you.”

  “You owe me more than you’ll ever know. You think that your gifts came like manna from heaven? I assure you that they didn’t. With your genetics and my assistance, you are what you are today.”

  “Your assistance,” Zack said, “has nearly destroyed me.” He paused. “And you want to take responsibility for my genetics? You’re losing it, Jorge.”

  “I…” Jorge said and then halted.

  “You what?”

  “Just listen, will you?”

  They sat at a small table in the empty rec room.

  “Say what you have to say and let me get out of here,” Zack said.

  “You can’t think for a moment that my friendship with you was anything but real. I felt it, and I know that you did, too.”

  “You have a strange way of showing it, Jorge.”

  “I’m not going to apologize for my actions, Zack. You’re too young, and too good to comprehend the power of revenge. I was just like you. I basked in the fantasy of a just world, trusted everyone, and believed in an emotionally balanced universe. All that changed when they murdered my family.” He paused. “You may not relate to this, but retribution is ingrained in the human spirit. As much as I tried to disavow revenge, I was powerless against its will.”

  “I don’t believe that for one second,” Zack said. “You made choices—deadly choices that affected everything you touched. You betrayed me. You betrayed all those who loved and respected you. For what?”

  Jorge stood and walked to the window. “What do you think I want out of this conversation, Zack? Have I asked you for anything? Can I regain your respect? Can I fix any of this?”

  “Well, at least Vega is dead. May he rot in hell for what he did to you, and I’m sure to many others. You must feel relieved.”

  “Relieved? You must be joking,” Jorge laughed mirthlessly. “As long as Francisco Salazar walks this earth, there will be no relief for me.”

  “It never ends, does it?”

  “I’ll do what I can for you, Zack. Trust me on that.”

  Zack stood and faced Jorge. “Trust you? That’s a laugh. Tell me what’s in it for you, and maybe I’ll believe. Meanwhile, don’t do me any favors.”

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Jorge sat at the conference room table next to his attorney, Bruce Hart. An associate set up the video recorder. The court recorder was preparing her steno machine.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Jorge,” Bruce asked.

  “Of course I’m sure. When will they be here?”

  The attorney looked at his watch. “Any moment now.”

  The door opened and James Olsen and Rebecca Arnold, the U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of California, entered and sat at the table.

  Rebecca was in her early forties, but looked much younger with her long chestnut hair, short pleated skirt, and silk blouse.

  “Good to see you again, Rebecca,” Bruce said, “and this must be Inspector Olsen.”

  Rebecca scanned the room. “Nice layout, Bruce. The wages of sin, no doubt.”

  “Private practice has its perks. Someday, “ Bruce said, “I’ll sufficiently corrupt you so that you’ll agree to join me.”

  “Let’s get started,” Rebecca said, as she nodded to the court reporter and the associate at the video recorder. “We’re on the record.”

  Rebecca stated the time, date, location, and named all present, and then she faced Bruce. “It’s your show.”

  “According to our negotiated agreement, Professor Moneo will give a full statement.”

  “If he lives up to his agreement,” she said, “we will abide by the settled terms.”

  Jorge sat up straight in his chair. He began with a brief history and their early experiences as a Basque family in Spain. “I never thought we were different, or that someone could hate us simply because of our heritage.”

  “You can skip the preamble, Professor,” Rebecca said. “Let’s get to your criminal activity.”

  Jorge turned to Bruce. “Either I tell it my way or let’s shut the whole thing down. This may be a confession for you, Ms. Arnold, but it’s a historical record for me.”

  Bruce faced Rebecca. “Your choice. If we stop now, I can catch what’s left of my grandson’s soccer game.”

  Rebecca sighed. “Have it your way, Professor.”

  Jorge described his father’s support for Basque liberation and his death at the hands of the Spanish Security Police. “I tried to be an active participant in the ETA, but they wouldn’t have me. They encouraged my academic pursuits.

  “When they slaughtered my family and my baby boy, I lost it. I’m not proud of some things I did with the ETA.

  “Finally, I took my shot at Salazar, but the son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t die. After that, even though they had no evidence, they found an excuse to deport me.”

  Jorge told of his first and subsequent meetings with James Olsen. He turned to Olsen. “You’re either very smart, very lucky, or just doggedly determined because you were on to me from the start. You gave me more that a few uncomfortable moments.”

  “Maybe I’m just smarter than I look, Professor,” Olsen said.

  Rebecca fidgeted in her chair. “Tell us about the Denisovan School, your students, and especially about Adam Connor and Zack Berg.”

  “That’s a non-starter for me, Ms. Arnold. I’ll give you what you want as long as it involves criminal activity. The rest is between me and my God.”

  Rebecca faced Bruce. “Please, Bruce. We had a deal.”

  Bruce just shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’m abiding by the letter of our agreement, Ms. Arnold,” Jorge said. “If you’re not happy, I’m through.”

  Rebecca shook her head in disgust. “Okay. Go on.”

  Jorge told them about the surveillance of Vega, his abduction, and murder.

  “I find it hard to believe,” Olsen said, “that you had no idea that Adam would pull the trigger.”

  “It surprised me,” he paused, “oh, well yes, it wasn’t that
much of a surprise, but it was, in any case, a most pleasant one. Vega was dead. One way or another, I was heading for jail and it didn’t matter one bit whether or not I actually pulled the trigger. Isn’t that right, Ms. Arnold?”

  “Tell us about Zack and Zeru Ibarra,” Rebecca said.

  Jorge reddened with anger. “You never give up, do you?”

  Rebecca turned to Olsen. “Place Professor Moneo under arrest.”

  Bruce stood. “What’s the matter with you, Rebecca? You fail to abide by any element of this agreement, and it’s all null and void. Professor Moneo will turn himself in in one week from today. He needs time to put his affairs in order.”

  Jorge faced Olsen and Arnold. “Don’t fret. You’ll have me for some time.”

  “Right,” Olsen said. “I won’t trust you or rest easy until you’re behind bars.”

  “Well, Inspector,” Jorge said, “I don’t trust you, either.”

  After Olsen and Arnold left, they walked to his car and sat.

  “I don’t trust him either,” Rebecca said.

  “Salazar’s coming to San Francisco to escort Vega’s body back to Spain,” Olsen said.

  “You don’t think he would…?”

  Olsen stared at Rebecca. “I’m absolutely sure he would if he had the chance. We’re on him, and will be on Salazar, too.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “Jorge’s a resourceful man. Think what it would mean for the U.S. if Jorge should succeed.” She paused. “I can only see one way of being sure; let’s keep Salazar out of San Francisco.”

  These Spaniards are a stiff-necked bunch. He won’t agree,” Olsen said.

  “Well,” Rebecca said, “If we warn him and he comes anyway, it shifts the burden away from us.”

  Olsen managed a sardonic smile. “International relations won’t matter much when Salazar’s dead.”

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  When Jorge returned to his office after meeting with James Olsen and Rebecca Arnold, the U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of California, he stood staring out the window at the bay. He turned to his desk, made several notes, and then picked up the phone.