“A company called Nexus Genetics. They’re based in Seattle.”
Nexus? That wasn’t the answer he had been expecting. “How long have you been with them?”
“From the beginning. A little over two years now. They were formed when my old company was broken up.”
“Let me guess. Manifold Genetics.”
“You’ve heard of us?”
With no little effort, King controlled his expression. “The team that hit the hospital was Gen-Y, Manifold’s private security army. They were tying up loose ends.”
Felice’s eyes widened in sincere alarm. King knew from experience that, even though Manifold’s founder, Richard Ridley, was quite literally a monster, many of the scientists he had employed were innocent pawns in his quest for power. Some of them, and even a few Gen-Y personnel, had been instrumental in bringing Manifold down. But Ridley had survived and gone underground, and it seemed that Manifold had as well. And though Ridley was now believed to be dead, it appeared his directives were still being carried out. There was another option, though. One that King hoped wasn’t at play. Before his death, Ridley uncovered an ancient language-the original language, or Mother Tongue, which was capable of affecting the physical world in profound ways best described as Biblical- light from darkness, life granted to the inanimate, physical healing. Before being subdued, he used the language to create several duplicates of himself. Many of the duplicates were destroyed, but there was no way to know how many he created or how many of them still operated around the world. That Nexus Genetics, which had, he surmised, been cobbled together from some of the pieces of Manifold, still carried out Ridley’s agenda was an ominous sign.
There will still pieces that didn’t quite fit, but King was starting to see the picture now. It was time to call Deep Blue. “You’re safe now,” he told her as he got out his Chess Team phone. “I’ll arrange transport back to the States.”
“No.” Felice’s voice was edged with panic.
King lowered the phone. “No?”
“I need to go back to the cave.” She turned to Moses. “You can take me there. You remember the way?”
Moses nodded uncertainly, but then looked to King, as if for reassurance.
“You said they were ‘tying up loose ends,’ right?” Felice continued. “They’ll be going after the cave next. You know I’m right. We have to get there first.”
“You don’t even remember what you found.”
“No, I don’t. But somehow I just know that I have to go back there.”
King frowned. This wasn’t what he needed right now. Sara was still out there somewhere, probably in grave danger. But Felice was right about the cave being a loose end. And if it was the source of whatever discovery had prompted the attack on the hospital, then getting there ahead of a Gen-Y clean-up crew was imperative. Where Ridley and Manifold were concerned, immediate action was required.
He turned to Moses. “Think you can put together an expedition? Get us outfitted with supplies? Discreetly?”
“It will be costly.”
King loosened his belt to reveal a concealed zipper pouch, and from it he took a stack of coins which he pressed into the Ethiopian’s hand. The weight of ten solid gold Krugerrands caught Moses off guard and his fist almost fell into what was left of his meal.
King gave a tight smile. “I think that should cover it.”
11.
As soon as they arrived at Fulbright’s “safe house,” Sara transferred the blood samples from her bag to the refrigerator. Less than an hour had passed since she and Fulbright had been whisked away from the hospital by helicopter. A short flight to a private airfield had followed, and almost immediately upon arriving, they had driven to a house in an upscale neighborhood in Bole, south of the city.
Sara felt like a piece of driftwood in a raging river. Caught in the current of events beyond her control, there was not even the illusion of choice. She clutched the specimen bag like a lifeline; at least that was something she understood. She had to keep the blood drawn from Felice Carter viable. Processing the specimens and learning what secrets they held would have to wait until the team showed up with the equipment.
That was what she kept telling herself.
But as she watched Fulbright’s face change during yet another phone conversation, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. When he finally rang off and turned to her, she quickly sat down.
“The fire started in the lab,” he said in a quiet voice. “They recovered five bodies, all badly burned. It wasn’t an accident. The police aren’t saying anything more, but there’s going to be an investigation.”
Sara closed her eyes and took a breath. She knew she should be shocked or sad, but she just couldn’t wrap her head around it. She had only left Frey and the others for a few minutes to assess the patient, and part of her believed that they were still there, waiting for her to return. It was almost too much to comprehend that they had all been ripped out of the world. She took another deep breath. “I have to make contact with CDC headquarters. I have to let them know what’s happened.”
Fulbright pursed his lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Whoever did this, they specifically targeted your team. They knew you were coming and they wanted to make sure you couldn’t get the job done. By now, they’ve probably had time to figure out that they didn’t complete that job, and that means they’ll be looking for you. We have to keep you off the radar.”
“I can’t do anything without equipment.”
Fulbright nodded. “We can order whatever you need and have it overnighted.”
“We’re talking very specialized equipment. Thousands of dollars. And I’ll still have to be able to uplink with the CDC in order to make sense of whatever I discover.”
“Money isn’t an issue. Right now, I’m more concerned with figuring out who’s behind this.”
A concealed vault door, equipped with both a numeric lock and a retinal scanning device, led to an austere computer room. Fulbright logged onto a desktop terminal and then, with Sara’s guidance, started ordering medical equipment from private sector supply companies. Sara kept her shopping list modest, and after about an hour had put together a field expedient research lab. Fulbright produced a platinum American Express card and paid for it all, as well as the hefty overnight shipping charges, without a second look.
“There’s nothing more you can do right now,” Fulbright told her when they had concluded. “You should get some rest. Maybe something to eat.”
She nodded perfunctorily. While they had been occupied with procuring the equipment, she had been able to cope, but now a wave of fatigue and loss was looming. The only way to stave off a crash was to keep busy, keep her mind engaged with the problem.
“Listen,” she said, pausing at the doorway. “I know somebody who might be able to help us sort this out. He has access to resources that…” She left the sentence hanging; if Fulbright was what she thought he was, he would understand.
And he seemed to. He regarded her thoughtfully. “This friend of yours…He works for the government, right?”
He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I’m guessing you know a little something about interdepartmental rivalries. Sometimes agencies work against each other, usually unintentionally, and the left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing.”
“What’s your point?”
“Until I have a better idea who is behind all this, I really don’t know who to trust. This could have been an op sanctioned by another agency. We can’t trust anyone right now.”
Sara felt a flare of indignation. “Jack would never be involved in something like that.”
“I’m sure you’re right. But if we reach out to him, we might send up a red flag. Someone will put two and two together and compromise us.” Before she could protest again, his demeanor softened. “But this is all just
