the academic had disappeared and there wasn’t anything concrete to link him with the gruesome murder. Curtis made a note to issue instructions to Homeland Security for al-Falid to be detained and questioned on his return to the country. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
‘Professor Sayed, it’s good to see you again,’ Curtis said, nodding his thanks to the Professor’s escort.
‘Please, take a seat.’ Curtis O’Connor shook Imran’s hand firmly and offered him a chair. ‘I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here?’
Imran Sayed smiled. ‘Nothing surprises me anymore, Curtis, but yes, it did cross my mind. I hadn’t realised Halliwell’s links included the CIA.’
‘Up until a few days ago they didn’t, or at least not official ones,’ O’Connor replied. ‘Do you know Richard Halliwell?’
‘Only by reputation,’ Imran replied enigmatically.
Curtis looked the Professor in the eye, realising that they could spend the next hour fencing or cut to the chase. He already knew that, quite apart from Sayed’s unsurpassed international reputation, the Professor held top-secret clearances at the highest level, which meant he’d been positively vetted – an exhaustive process involving referee’s reports, scrutiny of bank accounts, credit cards, spending habits. In short, Sayed’s public and private life had been put under the microscope. There wasn’t much about Imran Sayed that the FBI, the CIA and Curtis O’Connor didn’t already know, and O’Connor’s respect for the man had only grown as he’d looked through his file. Even though he’d been described as a devout Muslim, Sayed seemed prepared to question anyone whose actions in the name of Islam didn’t benefit the ummah or community, especially fundamentalists like Osama bin Laden. Sayed was a widower and Curtis noted that he had never remarried nor did he seem to have anyone special in his life, preferring instead to devote himself to the pursuit of medical science. Imran’s love of wine was perhaps unusual for a Muslim but then Imran was one whom O’Connor classed as a moderate, and in O’Connor’s view, the world needed as many moderates as could be found, not just from Islam. He decided to come straight to the point.
‘What I’m going to tell you, Imran, is for your ears only, regardless of whether or not you agree to become part of the program, and I want your agreement that you won’t disclose this to anyone,’ Curtis emphasised.
‘If that’s going to save time, Curtis, I appreciate your candour. You have my agreement,’ Imran replied with a knowing smile.
Curtis grinned. Here was a man he could work with, Curtis thought, and he gave Professor Sayed the background to P LASMID.
‘Halliwell Pharmaceuticals has been chosen because of its isolation, and unlike CDC or USAMRIID, access to the Halliwell Level 4 laboratory can be restricted to those on the program. Once the current experiments with smallpox at CDC have been completed, the staff at CDC will be told those experiments are being closed down. What they will not be told is that the program, together with Dr Richard Meyers, a veterinary surgeon who I think you know, and one or two assistants from the animal room, will shift to Halliwell. Essentially I will provide you and Dr Braithwaite with top-secret briefings on what we think the Russians and the Islamic fundamentalists might have achieved to date, and what they might be capable of in the future, including the genetic engineering of viruses. Your task will be to replicate those experiments, together with whatever other experiments you yourselves might deem necessary to give us a feel for what we’re up against and what vaccines can be developed to protect us here in mainland United States and overseas. That also includes the protection of US and other western teams at the Beijing Olympics.’
Imran took a deep breath. ‘That’s a pretty broad brief, Curtis. I appreciate you have a strong background in this field, but does the Administration have any idea how dangerous this might get? Let me give you one example. If the genome of the India-1 strain of smallpox ever fell into the wrong hands, it would not be beyond a state- sponsored laboratory to completely replicate it using polymerase chain reactions. Today’s genetic engineering of viruses makes Huxley’s Brave New World look like a kids’ picnic, and combining something like Ebola with smallpox doesn’t even bear thinking about.’
‘Which is precisely why we do need to think about it, Imran,’ Curtis responded, with more conviction than he felt.
‘How much time do I have for this decision?’
‘Not a lot. The President is pretty toey so I’ll need your answer by the end of the week. I’m talking to your colleague later this afternoon.’
Imran nodded. ‘I think I should warn you, Doctor Braithwaite is likely to tell you guys what you can do with the rough end of a pineapple,’ he said with a smile, remembering one of Kate’s expressions. ‘She’s Australian and not afraid to speak her mind. Braithwaite is more than a little upset over the present experiments on the Great Apes at CDC, and not without justification.’
‘What’s she like as a scientist?’
‘Kate Braithwaite is undoubtedly the best young scientist I have encountered in my entire career. I would not be at all surprised if one day we see her in Oslo being awarded a Nobel.’
‘That good?’
‘That good.’
‘Then I will do my best to get her on board. Do you have any influence with her?’
‘A little and if I’m going to be a part of this she would be my first and last choice as a colleague, but that would involve me being able to talk to her.’
‘From what you’ve told me it may come to that, and if that will make the difference I’ll authorise you to do it.’ O’Connor had never been afraid to bend the rules if it meant getting a result. ‘After I’ve spoken to her, I’ll let you know.’
CHAPTER 38
A mon al-Falid walked unhurriedly down the Street of the Storytellers and through the teeming Kissa Khawani Bazaar. He was in good spirits but he remained alert and watchful; where there was one CIA agent there were likely to be more. Another infidel had been dealt with and the Americans still had no idea who he really was. Like the London bombers, he was one of their own, and he said a silent prayer of thanks for Kadeer’s foresight in persuading him to stay the course and endure the campus taunts against Islam, something for which the infidel would now pay and pay dearly. al-Falid was very confident that Kadeer’s plans could be executed successfully, and at last, Allah be praised, the one true religion of Islam could be spread the length and breadth of the earth.
He paused at a leather goods stall in the crowded bazaar and casually looked around to make sure he wasn’t being followed. The Urdu-speaking al-Falid mingled effortlessly among the teeming humanity of the Old City. He moved on, glancing at a sign outside what passed for the lobby of a hotel. It read ‘Guns cannot be brought into the hotel. Gunmen must check their arms at reception’. al-Falid smiled to himself. The wild west of Pakistan was one that the US would come to fear, and unlike the Dodge Cities of US history, Peshawar and the North-West Frontier Province would never be tamed. A little further down the Street of the Storytellers, he passed a barber’s shop. The first customer was already seated in the old wooden chair out the front, his head resting on a tattered leather headrest that had been tied to a stick poking up from the chair’s back, and the barber was sharpening a fearsome- looking blade on a black leather strop. Next to the barber’s, above a grubby corrugated iron awning, an alarming 2 -metre high painting of gleaming white teeth and garish pink gums announced that a dentist was open to those who might be brave enough to enter. al-Falid shook his head good-naturedly to yet another offer of ‘tuk-tuk?’, and he stopped briefly in front of a brazier stall, feigning interest in the kebabs that were sizzling on the grate. Again he mentally photographed the narrow thoroughfare with its brightly coloured tuk-tuks competing with the donkeys pulling tongas that were overloaded with sacks of spices, seeds and potatoes. Satisfied, al-Falid turned off into a twisting side alley, pausing for a final check before he reached the entrance to the al-Qaeda safe house. The doors were solid teak and the understated but delicate carving was an exquisite example of the very architecture he claimed to be studying.
After the pre-arranged knock, the heavy doors opened and one of Kadeer’s bodyguards beckoned him inside
