Genecaust Read online

  "I'm amazed at how quickly both of you grasped the economic ramifications of my proposal. It gives each of you power over the other." Although Sen's smile was one of his few genuine expressions during the entire meeting, he knew that what he said next, would be what they remembered.

  "While Isaac is correct about your payment, these canisters represent something else entirely." He pounded his heart with a fist. "My demonstration in Socotra only proved I could identify a group of people who were descendants of one female by their women's mitochondrial DNA. Your scientists will quickly point out to you that any claim I make of possessing the ability to execute with such precision required of this grand scale needs scrutiny. That I could do it, pinpointing only the decedents of Sarah or Hagar, suggests I possess unique scientific abilities that require you to conduct a new test of its own."

  Ishmael pointed to his canister sitting next to Sen. "So then, the third option, which, we correctly deduced, includes having us do our experimentation with the poison you provide." He slapped the table. "And at what cost? You expect us to murder some of our people simply to validate your words?"

  "Correct, except I don't expect you to kill only your people. I shall give you enough virus to conduct one experiment. The canister I provide to you, Ishmael, will kill only a Jewish descendant of Sarah and Isaac while the canister I give you, Isaac, will only kill an Arabic descendant of Hagar and Ishmael. Then all you need to do is to put one, or maybe five, of each group in a room. Open the top of the canister and see what happens."

  "When you discover I have proven my concept, wire transfer five billion euros to the five offshore accounts that come with the directions for handling your container." He sat straight in his chair and tugged on his Jacket cuffs.

  "Ridiculous," Isaac shouted. "All we would learn is that the poison works."

  "Correct." Sen opened the bottle of Amrut Scotch on his desk and poured a liberal amount into his coffee cup. He then sat back and waited.

  Ishmael dragged his hands over his sagging cheeks in defeat. "So this is the business you have been talking about? This is how you would solve your problem?" What is his problem? Is it a problem? How do they know it?

  Holding his tumbler of Scotch, Sen pointed a finger at Isaac and then at Ishmael. "It is your problem, make no mistake about that. Your fighting has killed many millions beyond your two families."

  The Minister and the Emir sat in silence.

  Sen raised his glass. "Exactly thirty-three days from now, you will have confirmed my claim that the virus works as I have stated, and your scientists will have explained to you why it would be impossible to create an antidote for the fast-acting virus. At that time, I will deliver the amount needed for a permanent solution to your warring tendencies. You will both receive your full dose at the same time, so there will not be an opportunity to cheat." He gave then a snide smile. "Perhaps it would be good for both of you to play by God's rules."

  While the Minister and the Emir scowled in silence, Sen continued to relax and sip his Scotch. "I feel certain the price I'm asking you to buy the poison, which is custom designed for your enemy, is far less than the amount you would need to continue your warfare against each other…" He added with a sneer saying, "and perhaps some innocent bystanders will survive." He raised his glass. He didn't care a rat's ass who killed who or if anyone survived.

  The Emir shook his head before Sen could complete his toast and hissed, "You will die a thousand deaths,"

  Isaac struggled for coherence. " It's . . . it's nothing short of the next holocaust."

  Sen raised his voice. "No! This is different. We must remember the Holocaust, so it will never happen again. Your task, gentlemen, is to believe this Genecaust can happen. A Genecaust must be anticipated, so it will never happen." He downed his drink and clicked off the monitors.

  His phone rang. He heard the voice of Katya but could not her image "Dr. Sen, excellent performance. In a few weeks, our money will be deposited. We have much to plan for. Have you given any thought to your new life?"

  "Why can't I see you?"

  She lied. "This connection is too secure to support video. It's too risky. Everyone at PSI Corps thinks we are holding up at some undisclosed place in Germany. Meanwhile, we have an unlimited budget to spend here in Hong Kong and live like royalty. You want like to live like royalty, don't you?"

  "Are you sure that is still necessary? I mean with all that money, surely we can go—"

  She laughed. "To the moon? Hah, these men will have you killed once they find your shiny little bottles are useless."

  "But the bottles I just gave them, work. When they test them, the women will die. Are you suggesting the fifty large tanks we send after they transfer the money will be inert, fake?"

  "Of course. Besides, why eliminate millions of Jews or Muslims? The money they pay you is retribution for all the millions of Jews and Muslims they have already killed, including your family."

  Don't forget, we both know that neither of them has the balls to initiate a real Genecaust. Hiding in a safe house with a new identity until you get the money is simply prudent."

  "If you say so, Katya."

  35

  The Chase

  Early May in Alden - Desert Rodeo

  The door from the adjacent apartment flew open, and MJ Wilson entered at her usual fast pace cradling her smartphone in both hands.

  MJ leaned close to Meret's screen. "Turn the audio louder."

  "I turned mine off to save power."

  MJ held hers so Meret could hear. "That's okay. Listen. Listen. Hear?"

  Meret looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

  MJ frowned then emphasized, "It's the swearing." The worried look on her face dissolved into a grin of pride. "Just listen to that string of swearwords. That's him. He's the best. It's his voice. Hear it? Oh, my God, Meret, we found him. We really did." She turned away to stifle her sobs.

  Meret gave her a moment and checked her screen. "Granger's handcuffed to the chair, I think, but he isn't slumped over. He can't be hurt too bad." She called Steve, who said he'd have a tail on the van immediately.

  MJ wiped her cheeks and turned back. "We can't be sure about how bad he's hurt." she sniffled. "He's as tough as an old rhino hide. I told you they would never be able to break the son-of-a-bitch. Shit. I'm a mess. I never cry."

  "Don't worry about it. Your secret is safe with me."

  There's no way I can keep my bot attached or fly it at the speed they are going."

  "Scan the terrain. Ringo's view is shaking like they were on a back dirt road. Can your bot see the area?"

  "Oh shit, it blew off. Oh. Not hurt. It's in automatic hovering mode."

  "Get some altitude so you can see the van. Your beetle will give Steve something to follow. We can't be more than 15 minutes behind."

  After sending his best four field agents after the van, Steve Fairchild took Meret and MJ with him in a black limo and followed the others north on the coastal highway. Meret announced. "My bot is close to a sunbeam coming through the top of the van. I'll power it down and let it recharge. The sky's clear, and there's plenty of sunlight." Fairchild called out. "Meret. First, I need an assessment of Granger's position. Can you see if his wheelchair sits facing forward or backward?"

  "Backward. I can see Granger's arms and legs handcuffed to the chair. He's wiggling his fingers and making fists."

  Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "God, that'll help us with his extraction. I suspect they will wait until they pass the airport before making a run for the desert."

  "What makes you think they'll make a run for the desert?"

  "They won't have to choose a road. Sticking to the sand makes roadblocks problematic since there won't be any roads to block." She held out her hand. "How does he look, Meret? Can I see him again?"

  "Sure." She handed her the screen.

  MJ looked at Steve. "What was he wearing the day he went missing?"

  He didn't respond right away. "Agents in th
e field usually dress according to the environment."

  Meret took back the screen and using two fingers to enlarged the image, and held it before the agents. "Does his shirt look familiar?"

  They shook their heads.

  She shrugged. "Had to be sure."

  Steve leaned closer to the screen. "Can you show me what the two guards are doing?"

  She changed the bot's view and showed him the screen.

  "Good." He rubbed his chin. "It has to be our team that extracts him. We're too close to the population to send a chopper without revealing our presence. It won't be too long before we're far enough away to keep this operation covert. We'll need to take Granger quickly and quietly out in the desert a few more miles. That's barren enough for me. We need to get the doors of the van opened from inside, so they don't just shoot the Hawk."

  "I have an idea.

  "Go on."

  "I'll direct my bot to attack the men. If I can attack and withdraw repeatedly, they might think the van was infested with biting insects. Maybe they'll stop to clear out the problem."

  "It could work."

  "You know—" Meret tapped on the smartphone and manipulated the beetle to show the driver's cab. "See This? See the sliding panel between the driver's seat and the rear compartment where we are? One side of the glass panel had been left open for a few inches. "That's sufficient room for Ringo to enter."

  "Brilliant. Wait for my signal. We've passed the airport, and they should turn to the desert soon. When it's time, MJ, get your drone to beat on the windshield of the van to distract the driver while Meret sends Ringo into the driver's area for a wasp-like attack. Then, when the van stops, the agents in the SUV will take care of the guards." We'll stay in range so you two can maintain control of your flying buddies.

  He relayed the plans to their SUV, and the limo driver shouted, "We're catching up. Target ahead about a mile."

  "Move within a half-mile and maintain the distance," Steve said. "It won't be long now. Shout when he turns."

  He looked at his phone and tapped an icon. "SA Fairchild." He held his hand up for silence. "Yes, sir. Understand. Will do. Thank you, sir." He looked at both of them before speaking. "The satellite you requested is in position and will maintain a visual on the van and SUV. We gear for cutting through his cuffs, and the medics can prep a space in the back for Granger. They want to start a line on him asap."

  They bounced in the seat when the vehicle hit a pothole.

  "Meret, how many ounces of Bam-Bam in your beetle?"

  "I have six, MJ has three."

  He pursed his lips, sucked in some air and then put his finger against his ear to speak to the team. "We'll be putting an explosive device about three meters fender high directly in front of the van and then use the beetle inside to distract Meret's guards until we disable them.

  We will maintain our distance until we see the explosion, then we go in hot. Be prepared to put a flash bang in the back of the van. We'll still have to make a run for it. The copter requires our extraction point to be deeper in the desert. Leave no witnesses."

  Meret's heart was thundering in her ears, and she glanced at MJ for signs of nerves. None. The woman was an agent through and through. She steadied her hands to direct the bot on a search of the interior of the van. It that's what it took, she would sacrifice Ringo. She directed the bot to the floor and scanned the vans semi-dark and dusty spaces.

  Her screen view slid sideways, and Steve hollered. "The van's turned into the desert."

  There wasn't much time before he would have to give the word to close in.

  MJ reported to the team. "My bot can follow for another hour."

  Soon they would make their move. Meret found a small open wooden box in the corner behind the driver's wall. "Oh, my God. They have grenades." She passed Steve Junior's view. Two kinds, I think, yes?"

  "This could be a game changer. The one with all the bumps, the external segmentation, means it's a fragmentation grenade." He shook his head. "The fragments are lethal. The Smooth black cylinders with the yellow band are concussion grenades. If detonated inside the van, it would blow everything to bits, including Granger. Did you see any grenades that weren't lethal?"

  "What do they look like?"

  "They're cylindrical with holes. They're not lethal. If you can get Ringo to find any, they will disable the guards without killing Granger."

  "I'll look."

  She quickly discovered Junior wasn't built to move the grenades, but he could push a few enough to check out objects on the bottom of the pile. One, in particular, caught her eye and she handed Steve the screen.

  He nodded and pointed to the top of another one buried under the killer grenades, "That one's a flash-bang. See it? The one on the bottom with the circular ring? And you say your beetle can't lift it out for better positioning?"

  "No, sorry."

  "Can you get him to pull out the circular ring? If you do, you'll have four seconds to move Ringo away."

  "Okay, but I can't get him to pull the ring our backup plan is to go for flying Ringo at their eyes and take it from there."

  Steve added. "Correct, we will go with the original plan. I like this one better because it's better for Granger."

  "Copy." She sent Ringo crawling between the logjams of metal grenades and used his body to clear some space for him to get closer to the ring on the concussion grenade. Some places gave him purchase while others were as slippery as black ice. She finally was able to get Ringo to grab onto the ring with his back legs and push on a grenade near the top of the pile to see if it would move.

  The muffled roar of noise in the van changed abruptly to the loud crack of an explosion. The box of grenades erupted into the air the floor of the van bucked like a rodeo bull. Meret's screen flickered, when silent, and then black.

  "Granger," MJ wailed.

  36

  Extraction

  Early May, Yemen’s desert - the fog of engagement

  Meret yelled, "What just happened?" Trying to restore communication with Junior, her finger hit the cell's screen like a miniature game of whack-a-mole.

  The limo slid to a stop and Steve and MJ erupted with weapons raised and Meret slid off her seat with her Glock held tight to her hip and followed. The men in the van stumbled out coughing, blindly rubbing their eyes, and yelling at each other. With her gun now at ready and noticed MJ's screen had also gone black. Once her feet hit the ground, she leaned against the side of the limo to present the minimum possible profile. Her weapon pointed into the air, supported by the palm of her free hand. Two agents from the SUV fired their weapons at the driver and guard in the front of the truck. At the same time, two agents shot and killed the guards in the back of the van. Steve vaulted into the van, grabbed the wheelchair and pulled it to the door. Two agents rushed to lift Granger and his chair down, and a third handed Steve a huge bolt cutter. With four quick snaps, the bands on his wrists and ankles fell freeing Granger.

  Meret thought she saw a quirk of Granger’s lips and thought it might be an effort to smile. Her hope for superficial wounds evaporated on second glance. His face was so bruised and swollen he didn’t look quite human. He could no longer hold his head up and too beaten to walk. When he slumped back into his wheelchair, three agents lifted him and his chair into the SUV. MJ went with him. He needed medical help, and he needed it fast.

  After releasing Granger's restraints and assuring himself his partner was in good hands, Steve returned to the van. Meret ran toward him see if he needed help. Approaching the rear of the van, he jumped out and handed her what appeared to be a small burnt tennis ball.

  She frowned. “Junior?”

  Without explanation, he put his hand on her shoulder. "Let's go. You and I are in the limo." They ran toward the big car, and as soon as they jumped into the rear seat, the driver took off, headed deeper into the desert racing toward their planned extraction point. They anticipated the chopper had to arrive at the same time to minimize a confrontation wit Yemen
Guard.

  When Meret looked back over her shoulder at the shrinking view of rising black and white smoke of the burning pickup, the van hit a bad patch, and she smacked her head on its roof. They bounced along a rough road. While stretching her already sore neck, she caught a glimpse of the speedometer. Her eyes about popped out when she saw it register close to ninety miles an hour.

  She shut her eyes, feeling feint. People shooting, men dying, breakneck car chases through the desert, explosions, her life was out of control. She clutched the small burnt tennis ball bot in her hand, as though it was attached to a lifeline. If this was life in the CIA, she wasn’t sure she wanted it. She hadn’t volunteered for this. She’d imagined getting beck into the lab again. The few days in Italy seemed like a far off hallucination.

  Steve touched her empty hand. “How are you?”

  She nodded, but she knew her expression was pathetic.

  “I won’t say you ever get used to this but you know we couldn’t have extracted Granger without you.”

  ‘Will he be all right?”

  He lifted his chin toward the empty seat. "MJ’s with him, as well as a medic, and three other agents. I think so. Really. I do.”

  Meret nodded.

  He slid open a small compartment built into the door and handed her a miniature bottle of Scotch and took one for himself. It’ll calm you. I recommend it.

  * * *

  After an hour of listening to only Steve’s side of cryptic cell calls, Meret asked what was happening.

  "As long as the satellite tells us the road ahead is clear, we’ll make a run for one of our very few safe holes. The choppers won't need to be deployed, and we don't need to destroy the cars." He paused at the blank look on her face. "Those are places where we've stashed supplies for unexpected events. The closest is about two hours ahead. In this case, it is a well-manned base. Granger will be flown from there to Germany for a full examination and some R&R. MJ will accompany him. You and I and the rest of the team will be taking some back channel transportation to Socotra and then on to Rome.”