Robin Cook - Seizure

“Hmmm,” Ashley voiced. “Several hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money in my book. But we won’t quibble. I don’t suppose he serves as a director?”

“He does not.”

“That’s a relief. And I suppose we can assume the indicted racketeer Anthony D’Agostino does not serve on your ethics board, which I understand you have.”

A suppressed titter sounded in the audience.

“He does not serve on our ethics board,” Daniel rejoined.

“That’s also a relief. Now let’s talk for a moment about your company,” Ashley said. “The name is CURE, which I understand is somewhat of an acronym.”

“That’s correct,” Daniel said with a sigh, as if he were bored with the proceedings. “It was derived from Cellular Replacement Enterprises.”

“I’m sorry if you are fatigued by the rigors of this hearing, Doctor,” Ashley said. “We’ll try to wrap things up as quickly as we can. But I understand your company is attempting to accomplish its second round of financing via venture capitalists, with HTSR as your major intellectual property. Is your ultimate intent to take your company public by having an initial public offering?”

“Yes,” Daniel said simply. He leaned back in his chair.

“Now, this is off the record,” Ashley said. He looked to his left. “I’d like to ask the distinguished senator from the great state of Montana if he thinks the SEC would find it interesting that one of the initial investors in a company planning on going public has been indicted for racketeering. I mean, there is a question of moral propriety here. Money derived from extortion and maybe even prostitution, for all we know, being laundered through a biotech startup.”

“I’d think they’d be very interested,” the senator from Montana said.

“That would be my thought as well,” Ashley said. He looked back at his notes and then down at Daniel. “I understand your second round of financing has been held up by the S.1103 and the fact that the House has already passed its version. Is that correct?”

Daniel nodded.

“You have to speak for the transcript,” Ashley said.

“Correct,” Daniel said.

“And I understand your burn rate, meaning the money you’re using to stay afloat currently, is very high and that if you don’t get this second round of financing, you face bankruptcy.”

“Correct.”

“That’s too bad,” Ashley said, with all the appearances of sympathy. “However, for our purposes here at this hearing, I would have to assume that your objectivity in relation to the moral aspects of HTSR is in serious question. I mean, the very future of your company depends on S.1103 not being passed. Is that not true, Doctor?”

“My opinion has been and will continue to be that it is morally wrong not to continue to investigate and then use HTSR to cure countless suffering human beings.”

“Your opinion has been recorded,” Ashley said. “But for the record, I would like to point out that Dr. Daniel Lowell has chosen not to answer the posed question.”

Ashley leaned back and looked to his right. “I have no further questions for this witness. Do any of my esteemed colleagues have any questions?”

Ashley’s eyes moved around to the faces of the senators seated at the dais.

“Very well,” Ashley said. “The Subcommittee on Health Policy would like to thank doctors Lowell and D’Agostino for their kind participation. And we’d like to call our next witness: Mr. Harold Mendes of the Right to Life organization.”

11:05 A.M., Thursday, February 21, 2002

Stephanie could see the taxi in the middle of the oncoming pack of cars, and she put up her hand expectantly. She and Daniel had followed a suggestion they’d been given by a security officer in the Senate Office Building and had walked over to Constitution Avenue in hopes of catching a cab, but they hadn’t had much luck. What had started out that morning as a reasonable day, weather-wise, had taken a turn for the worse. Dark, heavy clouds had blown in from the east, and with the temperature hovering in the lower thirties, there was a distinct possibility of snow. Apparently, under such conditions the demand for taxis far exceeded the supply.

“Here comes one,” Daniel snapped, as if Stephanie had something to do with the lack of cabs. “Don’t let it go by!”

“I see it,” Stephanie responded in an equally clipped manner.

After leaving the Senate hearing, neither had spoken much other than the minimum necessary to decide to take the suggestion to walk over to Constitution Avenue. Similar to the gathering clouds, their moods had darkened as the morning’s hearing had progressed.

“Damn!” Stephanie mumbled when the cab zipped by. It was as if the driver was wearing blinders. Stephanie had done everything save throwing herself in front of the speeding traffic.

“You let it go by,” Daniel complained.

“Let it go by?” Stephanie shouted. “I waved. I whistled. I even jumped up and down. I didn’t see you make any effort.”

“What the hell are we going to do?” Daniel demanded. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

“Well, if you have any bright ideas, Einstein, let me know.”

“What? Is it my fault there are no cabs?”

“It’s not mine either,” Stephanie retorted.

Both hugged themselves in a vain attempt to keep warm but made it a point to keep away from each other. Neither had brought a true winter coat on the trip. They had thought that they wouldn’t need them, having flown four hundred miles south.

“Here comes another one,” Daniel stated.

“Your turn.”

With his hand raised, Daniel ventured as far out into the street as he thought safe. Almost immediately, he had to retreat when he caught sight of a pickup truck bearing down on him in the outermost lane. Daniel waved and shouted, but the cab went by in the knot of vehicles without slowing.

“Well done,” Stephanie commented.

“Shut up!”

Just when they were about to give up and begin walking west along Constitution Avenue, a cabbie beeped. He’d been waiting at the traffic light on First Street and Constitution, and had witnessed Daniel’s antics. When the light changed, he turned left and pulled over to the curb.

Stephanie and Daniel piled in and buckled their seat belts.

“Where to?” the driver questioned while looking at them in the rearview mirror. He was wearing a turban and was as tan as if he’d just spent a week in the Sahara Desert.

“The Four Seasons,” Stephanie said.

Stephanie and Daniel rode in silence while staring out their respective windows.

“I’d say that hearing was about as bad as it could have been,” Daniel complained at length.

“It was worse,” Stephanie responded.

“There’s no doubt the bastard Butler will vote out his bill, and when that happens, I’ve been assured by the Biotechnology Industry Organization that it will pass the full committee and the Senate itself.”

“So goodbye to CURE, Inc.”

“It’s a shame that in this country medical research is being held hostage by demagogic politics,” Daniel snapped. “I shouldn’t have even bothered coming down here to Washington.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe it would have been better if I’d come alone. You certainly didn’t help things by telling Ashley he was grandstanding and didn’t have an open mind.”

Daniel turned and stared at the back of Stephanie’s head. “Come again?” he sputtered.

“You shouldn’t have lost control.”

“I don’t believe this,” Daniel marveled. “Are you trying to imply that this crappy outcome is my fault?”

Stephanie turned to face Daniel. “Being sensitive about other people’s feelings is not one of your strong points. And this hearing is a case in point. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t lost your cool. Attacking him like you did was inappropriate because it stopped whatever dialogue you might have been able to maintain. That’s all I’m saying.”