Robin Cook: Chromosome 6

Jack straightened up from bending over the gas tank. “What’s on your mind, sport?” he asked.

“See that island, the last one in the chain?” Kevin said while pointing toward Isla Francesca. “That’s where all the bonobos are. They’re in cages at the foot of a bridge to the mainland. I’d like nothing better than to go over there and release them.”

“What would that accomplish?” Laurie asked.

“A lot if I could get them to cross the bridge,” Kevin said.

“Wouldn’t your Cogo friends just round them up again?” Jack asked.

“They’d never find them,” Kevin said, warming to his idea. “They’d vanish. From this part of Equatorial Guinea and stretching for a thousand miles inland is mostly virginal rain forest. It encompasses not only this country but vast regions of Gabon, Cameroon, Congo, and Central African Republic. It’s got to be a million square miles, parts of which are still literally unexplored.”

“Just let them go by themselves?” Candace asked.

“That’s exactly the point,” Kevin said. “They’d have a chance, and I think they’d make it! They’re resourceful. Look at our ancestors. They had to live through the Pleistocene ice age. That was more of a challenge than living in a rain forest.”

Laurie looked at Jack. “I like the idea.”

Jack glanced at the island, then asked which direction was Cocobeach.

“We’d be going out of our way,” Kevin admitted, “but it’s not far. Twenty minutes tops.”

“What if you let them out and they stay on the island?” Warren said.

“At least I could tell myself I tried,” Kevin said. “I feel that I have to do something.”

“Hey, why not?” Jack said. “I think I like the idea too. What does everybody else say?”

“To tell you the truth, I’d like to see one of these animals,” Warren said.

“Let’s go,” Candace said enthusiastically.

“Okay by me,” Natalie said.

“I couldn’t think of a better idea,” Melanie said. “Let’s do it!”

Jack gave the engine cord a few pulls. The outboard roared to life. Pushing over the helm, Jack steered toward Isla Francesca.

MARCH 10, 1997

1:45 A.M.

COCO, EQUATORIAL GUINEA

SIEGFRIED had dreamed the dream a hundred times, and each time it had gotten a little worse. In it, he was approaching a female elephant with a young calf. He didn’t like doing it, but a client couple demanded it. It was the wife who wanted to see the baby up close.

Siegfried had sent trackers out laterally to protect the flank while he and the couple neared the mother. But the trackers to the north became terrified when a huge bull elephant appeared. They ran, and to compound their cowardice, they failed to warn Siegfried of the danger.

The sound of the enormous elephant charging through the underbrush was like the thunder of an oncoming train. Its shrieks built to a crescendo, and just before impact Siegfried woke up bathed in sweat.

Panting, Siegfried rolled over and sat up. Reaching through the mosquito netting, he found a glass of water and took a drink. The problem with his dream was that it was too real. This was the incident through which he’d lost the use of his right arm and had the skin of his face flayed open.

Siegfried sat on the edge of his bed for a few moments before he realized the shrieking he’d thought was from his dream was coming from outside his window. A moment later, he realized the source: loud West African rock music emanating from a cheap cassette player.

Siegfried looked at the clock. Seeing that it was close to two a.m., he became instantly incensed. Who could be so insolent to make such noise at that time in the morning?

Sensing the noise was coming across the green in front of his house, he got out of bed and stepped onto the veranda. To his surprise and dismay the music was coming from Kevin Marshall’s. In fact, Siegfried could see who was responsible: It was the soldiers guarding the house.

Anger coursed through Siegfried’s body like a bolt of electricity. Ducking back inside his bedroom, he called Cameron and ordered the security director to meet him over at Kevin’s. Siegfried slammed the phone down. He pulled on his clothes. As he left the house he grabbed one of his old hunting carbines.

Siegfried walked directly across the green. The closer he got to Kevin’s, the louder the music became. The soldiers were in a puddle of light beneath a bare light bulb. Sprinkled across the ground at their feet were numerous empty bottles of wine. Two of the soldiers were singing along with the music while playing imaginary instruments. The other two appeared to have passed out.

By the time Siegfried got to the scene, Cameron’s car had careened down the cobblestone street and screeched to a halt. Cameron jumped out. He was still buttoning his shirt as he approached Siegfried. He glanced at the inebriated soldiers and was clearly appalled.

Cameron started to apologize when Siegfried cut him off. “Forget about explanations and excuses,” he said. “Get upstairs and make sure Mr. Marshall and his two friends are tucked in for the night.”

Cameron touched the tip of hat in faint salute. He disappeared up the stairs. Siegfried could hear him pounding on the door. A moment later, several lights went on in the living quarters.

Siegfried fumed as he watched the soldiers. They hadn’t even noticed his presence or Cameron’s.

Cameron came back looking pale and shaking his head. “They’re not there.”

Siegfried tried to control his anger enough to think. The level of incompetence with which he had to work was astounding.

“What about his LandCruiser?” Siegfried snapped.

“I’ll check,” Cameron said. He ran back, literally pushing his way through the singing soldiers. He returned almost instantly. “It’s gone.”

“What a surprise!” Siegfried said sarcastically. Then he snapped his fingers and motioned toward Cameron’s car.

Siegfried got in the front seat while Cameron climbed in behind the wheel.

“Call and alert your security force,” Siegfried ordered. “I want Kevin’s car found immediately. And call the gate. Make sure it hasn’t left the Zone. Meanwhile, take me to town hall.”

Cameron used his car phone as he maneuvered his vehicle around the block. Both numbers were stored in his phone’s autodialer so it was a hands-free operation. Stomping on the accelerator, he headed north.

By the time they neared the town hall, the official search for Kevin’s car had been initiated. It was readily determined that the vehicle had not tried to go through the gate. As they turned into the parking lot both heard the music.

“Uh-oh!” Cameron said.

Siegfried stayed silent. He was trying to prepare himself for what he now suspected.

Cameron pulled to a halt at the building. His headlights picked up the debris that had resulted when the bar frames had been yanked out of the wall. The pile of chain was visible.

“This is a disaster,” Siegfried said with a tremulous voice. He stepped out of the car with the carbine. Although he had to hold the gun with one hand, he was an accomplished marksman. In quick succession he pulled off three rounds and three of the empty wine bottles on the windowsill of the army post burst into shards of glass. But the music did not falter.

Gripping the gun tightly in his good hand, Siegfried went over to the army-post window and looked in. The cassette player was on the desk with its volume pegged at max. The four soldiers were passed out either on the floor or slouched in the rickety furniture.

Siegfried raised the gun. He pulled the trigger and the cassette player flew off the desk. In an instant, the scene was thrust into a painful silence.