Genecaust Read online

  "Right. As of now, the firm has no name." She acknowledged his effort with a brief nod. "I guess we better rectify that. Please continue."

  Your assistant, Ms. Smith-Essam, told me about your consulting firm, as I gather she was supposed to. She is a sharp young woman, yes?"

  "I appreciate your interest, but why meet here, in Yemen?"

  He maintained a casual but purposeful look while coolly surveying the room. He lowered his deep voice and said, "I share your concern for the possibility that what we witnessed was only a trial run."

  "Of that, I have no doubt."

  He continued. "There may well be another . . . what did I read you called it?"

  Remembering her Aunt Doris' warning she should never play poker, Meret dropped her hands in her lap and bit her lip. Damn. "You refer to the massacre in Socotra, Dr. della Francesca?" She did not use his first name on purpose. They were not friends.

  A fleeting frown of impatience crossed his brows to be quickly replaced by a casual social expression.

  "Yes," she said. "As scientists, let's call what happened there what is was, a genetically targeted assassination of a specific genomic community. A Genecaust."

  When the waiter approached, Meret thumbed her nose at the cultural expectation the male would do the ordering. "I'll have a Gin and tonic," she said.

  He didn't look at the waiter. "The same."

  "You used the name CRISPR-cas9 to get my attention," Meret said, "and it worked. Why? Was it your connection with the CRISPR research team in Rome, Harvard, and UCSF?"

  He nodded. "Yes, as I said before, I believe we share the same concerns. You are recording this conversation, no?"

  "Would that trouble you?"

  "No, but it might make our next meeting more . . ." He shrugged. "Difficult?"

  "That is a concern of mine, Piero. What did you come to tell me?"

  "I believe I know the identity of the scientist behind the Genecaust on Socotra."

  She momentarily lost her composure. "You do?" She took a breath and said more quietly. "Who?"

  "Dr. Subash Sen, a citizen of Bangladesh, currently hiding in Berlin or Hong Kong. I am not sure which."

  "Why are you telling me this?"

  "We must stop him."

  She tapped her forefinger in rapid succession and pinched her lips back. "I'm sorry Doctor della Francesca," and she realized she was, "you do know what must come next?"

  He nodded. "Yes, the stakes are too high to let me walk out of here. Indulge me. Let's finish this encounter with a light lunch. Then I shall escort you to your team's vehicle like a normal couple enjoying the day? Can you do that for me?"

  Steve's voice in her ear bud said. "Yes, you can do that. This guy may not be the enemy, but play it like he is, Meret."

  30

  Katya Conspires with Henri

  Late May, bound for Hong Kong and open to suggestion

  Unaware he was not the wealthy Arab prince he thought he was, Dr. Sen, dressed to cosplay the part and strolled into the airport's VIP lounge. Filled with the confidence Katya had implanted in him with her mental manipulations a small smile slid across his face. Oh, Yes. He was the one in control. Hadn't he arranged for a secret flight to a safe house in Hong Kong when PSI Corps planned to send him to their place in Berlin? Hadn't he sold millions of what was rightfully his in the first place? Hah, a wealthy Arab Prince would stand out like a genetically perfect peacock.

  Glancing about the lounge, he snorted at PSI Corps' stupidity, drawing the attention of an approaching beautiful young Middle Eastern woman in black pants suit wearing a light blue silk hijab. Boldly, he introduced himself.

  "Would you like a drink? He asked"

  At first, she seemed reluctant, even awkward causing him to spill his drink on his sleeve, but when her hand touched his helping him clean up, everything changed. They engaged in pleasant conversation, and her presence made the nearly twenty-hour flight time from Socotra to Hong Kong tolerable. Even her name was special, Tiri, she had told him. It had a lovely sound.

  * * *

  Katya vowed never again to show both sides of herself to a new subject, as she had in the process of conditioning Dirk Donahue and Subash. Her efforts to control their behavior and to turn their minds into a tool for her ambition was incomplete, and her duality made it ultimately impossible for their minds to resolve her two identities. Most importantly, it created a level of conflict within them that detracted from her ability to control them.

  Working toward a better solution, she decided Sen had to believe he was, in fact, another person. One who didn't realize she ever existed and one that thought he was someone other than Dr. Subash Sen. In fact, Subash needed to believe he was someone else entirely. She had begun to transform him into a wealthy Arab prince and not Dr. Subash Sen a few days before they flew to Socotra to watch his drones fly overhead on their way to unleash his SKVs. When his new identity as the prince is in place, he would not know that Katya existed in any form.

  With PSI Corps believing she was in route to Berlin with him and unaware of her plans to take him to Hong Kong, she had a few hours to prepare Sen for what she wanted him to do next. Once in Hong Cong, she would take him to the only place she deemed secure, her special high-rise apartment near the university. It was there she would prepare his hubris for the important Skype-like conference with the eight oligarchs.

  She made her way through the spacious International First Class cabin knowing she had conditioned Dr. Sen's mind to her will and knew that he would see her now as Tiri because she wanted him to. The next twenty hours of continued conditioning and training would be a difficult physical and mental challenge for both of them.

  It was not merely good fortune that the seat next to him was vacant. As Tiri, she had limited time before they arrived in Hong Kong and had planned everything carefully to assure success. She liked eye contact and needed him to pick up her female pheromones and microbiome clues for one thing, and she needed to touch him in meaningful ways for another.

  "Hello, Dr. Sen. I have been in the back working. I hope you're enjoying the flight." She knew he was. He may be timid, but he recognized luxury and enjoyed his human comforts. An attendant reached over her with the doctor's drink and apologized for the inconvenience. In reality, she provided the opportunity Katya needed when drops of the drink spilled on Subash's sleeve.

  "Let me help you with my napkin. " Katya said as she brushed the beads of Amrut from his cuff allowing her hand to touch his briefly. When he turned his face toward hers and their eyes locked, he had acquired a distant, unfocused gaze and a sophomoric smile. Tiri pretended to dab drops from his chin with a napkin wrapped around her finger. She murmured, "Hello Subash, I've missed our sessions. The word is would you like a new lesson?"

  In the deep folds of Dr. Sen's brain, his view of Tiri's slightly shorter, beautiful young Middle Eastern face became his universe.

  Katya's new lesson for him would craft his thinking to allow him to play a high stakes game of international intrigue.

  Katya knew that others on the flight had seen her for what she is. A rather thin, plain woman with no makeup wearing clothes a bit too big for her. She wore her long straight hair pulled severely back to the nape of her neck in an unattractive style. In black slacks and tailored white blouse, she could be anyone, or more accurately, no one.

  As they touched down in Hong Kong, Dr. Sen had come to believe he'd fled PSI Corp because they forced him to participate in the killing of 1500 Muslim women and because they refused to pay him the agreed upon money. It wasn't in his nature to lament the loss of lives for long, but the loss of income, on the other hand, was harder to swallow. After all, he had to take care of a family.

  Katya's conditioning amplified his feelings on both fronts. She instilled the belief the pending Skype conference was his idea. She was satisfied with his conditioning he was ready for the Skype conference and the special part he would play in the events to come.

  * * *

  Wi
th Dr. Sen asleep in the master bedroom, a direct result of all the Amrut he'd drunk, Katya worked on a piece of their project in a smaller, windowless room in the back part of their secret Hong Kong apartment. No one could be trusted to know when or where the conference would take place. Only she could make the arrangements. We must protect the virtual web-based meeting from the best hackers and deny them access.

  The problem was, she couldn't set up the damn Skype equipment. The documentation did not provide the security level she sought, and the extra cables made her uncomfortable. Swearing in Russian, she threw the booklet across the room. A moment later she tossed back a double shot of Russian Standard and began swearing in three languages. After another double, she reluctantly dialed a special friend. She knew Henri wouldn't answer the call, he never did, but he would recognize her need to talk and call her back on a more secure channel.

  She poured another double and stared at the giant dark screen and the tangle of cords on the floor around it. They looked like the aborted delivery of an augmented octopus, and they remained fucking useless shit.

  The phone rang. Time to beg and embarrass yourself.

  "Henri, I need your help with this freaking system. I need something totally, repeat, totally secure, and I'll need it to serve and record ten viewers from ten parts of the world."

  The voice at the other end of the phone said, "I can set it up and air-gap it for you by tomorrow. What's in it for me?"

  "Flat fee or percentage?" Damn. Katya knew he might be expensive, but she had no choice.

  The laugh he returned had a cold, humorless sound. "Ah, Katya, as you are aware, I am a full-service, one-stop shop and I know you don't dip your sticky fingers in anything that's not worth my time, so I'll consider a silent partner retainer of three and a half percent of the gross."

  Retainer. Not bloody likely. No way would she divide profits with him for all her successive jobs. She had big plans, and he was not in them. She tossed back her drink. "Henri, you know I love you and your work, but the overhead on this is unexpected. I can give you three percent of the net from this job and promise as a partner. Trust me. You'll make more from that deal than you could dream of."

  Silence.

  Finally, Henri broke it. "Okay. I'll be at your door tomorrow morning at eight."

  Satisfied, if not pleased, she filled her glass a third time and toasted the blank screen. In truth, she liked the idea of working with Henri again. As a founding member of one of the world's best and most notorious hacker mobs, he and his organization stood to become part of a new global business. She would control the competition's minds, and Henri would control the dark communication that made her enterprise immune to detection and oversight. A smile sneaked across her face. Little did he know how profitable this job and his pending partnership would be. She laughed out loud. Oh yes, it was going to be good. She glared at the computer monitor. "Henri's coming, you freaking fucker and you will no longer stand in my way."

  * * *

  Katya's door buzzed opened the street entrance to her Hong Kong apartment complex. "Right on time, ‘enri. You know the way." She liked to call him ‘enri, without pronouncing the ‘H' in deference to his native language.

  She walked toward the door, briefly stopping to check herself in the mirror. The elevator took 22 seconds to reach the top floor and another seven to walk to her private penthouse door. She finger-fluffed her long black hair and opened the front door. Henri looked good in his urban slacker gear, and she motioned him in, but he stood back from the open door and held up one arm as though he expected a large dog. "Before we begin, Katya, just be aware that I'm recording my presence here, so don't go pulling off any of your mind-fucking voodoo on me. Clear? I'll notice."

  "Happy to see you too, ‘enri. Come in. There's work to be done."

  He stopped in the middle of the room and held his cell as though taking a three-sixty degree photo of her apartment.

  One icon turned green while another blinked yellow.

  She pointed at his cell. "What's the yellow one blinking about?"

  He shrugged. "That's bouncing back my activity of recording, and uploading to a secure server."

  "With respect," she nodded, "clever. Real-time?"

  "Of course." His attention shifted to the small pile of cables on the floor. When he picked them up, she nudged the discarded twisted folder of failed directions under a stuffed chair with her foot. "It not only has to work, but it must also be totally secure, as I said. I'd have done it myself, but I don't have the time."

  He just looked at her in apparent disgust. "Yeah, right. This won't take long. Let's talk while I sort it out. You know my work, and you are aware that I can get behind any firewall and through any encryption anywhere in the world." He paused and pointed a golden tipped cable at her. "Including your plans for the two biological events you wrote in your private online calendar."

  She hated when he did that. "I believe it was you who brought up mind fucking. I'd hoped a certain level of mutual trust would keep both of us from mind-fucking each other." She paused and flashed a serpentine smile. "After all, you know, you must fall asleep sometime."

  "A woman after my own heart." He grinned with ice eyes. "I'll know if you pull, or attempt to pull, any tricks me. I considered your three percent of the net from this job and promise as a partner. True, you're hiring me to do a job, but as a full partner, you will inherit my global organization, and they are very sensitive about their security."

  "Henri, I would never—"

  "Of course you would, that's why the full partnership will cost you 45% of the net."

  Her eyes narrowed and her hands balled into white fists. "Aren't you assuming a bit much?"

  "Come on, Katya, we're talking billions. How rich do you need to be? By assisting you with this part of the project, in the eyes of INTERPOL or any governmental INTELligence agency, we're full partners. I'm in this as deep as you. There's no such thing as a forty-five percent of a hanging. Besides, it'll be fun working together." He stood with two fingers of each handheld like double quotes on his shirt. "We can get black T-shirts with white letters proudly proclaiming I work for a no-brain-fuck team. It's all good?"

  Covering her mouth, she snorted a laugh in spite of herself. "Deal." The poor bastard has no idea how this conditioning works for me. Now he does.

  When he offered his hand, she shook it, smiled and said, "Word up. I wouldn't want it any other way, partner. Let's finish putting this tech together."

  * * *

  Henri pointed the remote at the screen and two, not-so-cheery faces appeared. "Frank, audio check?"

  The guy on the left yawned. "All green."

  "Mark, audio check?"

  The guy on the right waved with two fingers. "Also green, boss."

  He handed her a remote. "Looks like we're done."

  Folding one arm across her chest, she supported the arm holding the remote as though it were heavy and pointed it at the screen. "Did you register the ten people I gave you?"

  "Just like speed dial, each has an icon on your app." He picked up any unused cable bits, including the wrappings, and stashed then in his backpack. "I'll dispose of this elsewhere. Don't want to leave a trail for anyone interested in you trash. Hit my icon if you have any problems."

  "Good." She was careful not to dole out too much praise. How do I send a message to only one of the people logged in without everyone else hearing it?"

  His interest seemed piqued. "Using what? I mean, how do you want the guy to get your message?"

  "I want it to be more spooky than a simple cell phone call. Can we send it through some other device the guy might have in his office or home?"

  "You mean something like a game console or his TV?"

  "Yeah, both voice and video?"

  "Yes, as long as it's WiFi capable, you'll be able to initiate a call from here."

  "Interesting. I'll just need his personal email address."

  "What else will you need?"

  "Th
at's all."

  "How soon can you get it done?"

  " I can do it two days from the time I get his personal email address and remotely insert the code you need directly into your system."

  "That's it."

  "Add it to the bill, Henri. Does this mean you can get into any personal system?

  "Sure, I can hack into any system from where ever I am. I'l be done in seconds."

  She didn't like the sound of that. The damn man had too much control and therefore too much visibility of her business. Fuck. "Can you really do that?

  His face went cold. "Of course I can. How would you expect me not to know how to do that?"

  "How can that be secure?"

  "Have I ever screwed with you? I can also shut your system down from anywhere in the world, and you can be damn sure that when I check my recording of our session today, that if I see any evidence of you even trying to mine-fuck me, I will shut it down. Got that?"

  After Henri had departed, Katya fell back into the oversized leather recliner and replayed in her mind the favorite part of Henri's service call, the part where he shook her hand. Everybody shakes hands.

  31

  The Search for Granger

  Late May, Hotel Mercure Aden, Yemen - Piero complies

  After a nerve-wracking yet also enjoyable lunch, Meret stood to shake hands. "Ciao. It was nice to meet you, Doctor della Francesca." She cringed at her lukewarm adjective and stuck with his last name because it seemed the right thing to do since he was under investigation. The thing was, she liked the man and would certainly relish an academic conversation with him on biogenetics. Maybe, one day soon, it would be possible.