Робин Кук - Pandemic

“Kang-Dae called me in New York and told me,” David said.

“And why would he do that?” Jack said. There still seemed to be more that Jack didn’t know than what he did.

“It’s a rather complicated story,” David said. “Are you sure you want to hear it.”

“There’s nothing I want to hear more,” Jack said. It didn’t make any sense at all to him, as Ted Markham had told Jack that Kang-Dae had been Wei’s personal assistant for almost forty years. And he acted as if he was totally devoted to the man.

“You have to understand exactly who Kang-Dae is,” David said.

“I was told he originally was a defector from North Korea,” Jack said. “And has been working for your father for practically a lifetime.”

“That’s correct,” David said. “But the important thing is how he became my father’s assistant. My father didn’t hire him on his own accord. Kang-Dae was a Chinese government plant to keep tabs on my father that my father was compelled to hire, and Kang-Dae has continued in the same capacity to this day. It is all rather ironic in that my father has been aware of Kang-Dae’s role practically since day one but never cared. Since Kang-Dae had no family, my father even let him live in a spare room in our house, despite knowing he was, in effect, a spy. I have known Kang-Dae my whole life. He’s family without being family.”

“But why would he go out of his way to tell you I was locked up in the slaughterhouse?” Jack asked. “Obviously your father thinks of me as a distinct liability, as he should. Kang-Dae witnessed our brawl.”

“Because our goals coincide,” David said. “The Chinese government doesn’t want my father to succeed here in the United States, for fear he’ll shut down his companies in China. Same with me and a large contingent of the Chinese interns that are here working in GeneRx.”

“Your father thinks that these last two heart transplants with the pig-grown organs were sabotaged,” Jack said. “Do you think that is true?”

“I know it is true,” David said. “It was a regular old-fashioned conspiracy and a group decision. We thought the best way to delay the program was to reintroduce a pig retrovirus into the cloned retrovirus-free litter of pigs used to clone the customized pigs. I was the one who chose the B virus used, as it was known to infect human cells in culture. What none of us had any idea about was that it would be capable of eliciting a cytokine storm. That took us all by surprise. Actually, we counted on them finding the retrovirus well before the organs were harvested. The original protocol called for such a final check. We don’t know why it wasn’t done, although it is obvious it had something to do with the rapidity of Carol Stewart’s clinical deterioration. It is tragic that the final check wasn’t performed. Unfortunately it’s something I’m afraid I am going to have to live with.”

“Your father thinks that had this sabotage not happened, the two women involved would be alive and well today, ushering in a whole new era in transplant treatment. Do you agree?”

“My father has usually been right in such things,” David said. “And he is probably right about this. It’s why he is a billionaire and most of his colleagues are not. He knew from the moment he first heard about CRISPR/CAS9 that it was a breakthrough technology. He’s absolutely certain it’s going to change the face of clinical medicine. Revolutionizing the organ-transplant field is just the first of a host of amazing things it will be providing.”

“You do understand that I will have to report all this,” Jack said. “At a minimum, I’ll be making sure the FDA’s Office of Criminal Investigations will be alerted tomorrow morning.” Although he understood everything David had said, in the final analysis it was the death of the two women that bothered Jack the most.

“I was hoping that would be the case,” David said. “It’s why I was intent on getting you out of where you were being held.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be asking this,” Jack said, “but if you hadn’t shown up as a liberator, what do you think would have happened to me?”

“My father would have delegated your fate to one of his many underlings,” David said. “He wouldn’t have given it much thought. He is good at compartmentalizing.”

“I was afraid of that,” Jack said.

“You had impressed my father with the efforts you had made investigating Carol Stewart,” David said. “Kang-Dae told me he was intent on convincing you to join the team. He thought that you would be a terrific asset in dealing with the problems that he expects he’ll be facing from the usual regulatory agencies. I’m somewhat surprised you were able to resist, as he can be very convincing.”

“I was never tempted,” Jack said.

As they sped toward the city, Jack felt himself progressively relax the farther they got from the Farm Institute and its slaughterhouse. The traffic was light, even as they neared the George Washington Bridge, the world’s busiest.

“Your father said something reassuring,” Jack said, breaking the silence. “He said that thanks to CRISPR/CAS9, GeneRx engineers had already developed a rapid test for determining the presence of the new gammaretroviral disease and also how to cure it. Is that correct, as far as you know?”

“It is,” David said. “It is another tribute to the power of this revolutionary gene-editing technology.”

“That’s terrific,” Jack said. “That should make the elimination of the mini-pandemic this episode has caused rather easy.”

“No doubt,” David said.

Jack glanced around at the impressive interior of the sports car, with its sumptuous leather seats and swank-appearing dash. “Nice wheels,” he said, trying to sound contemporary like Warren.

“It’s not bad,” David said offhandedly.

“It’s the most impressive car I’ve been in,” Jack said. “What model is it?”

“It’s a Lexus LC 500 coupe,” David said. “I’d asked for a Lamborghini but had to settle for this. As usual, my father didn’t even ask for my opinion. That’s the way it has always been.”

Jack didn’t respond. He guessed it would be difficult not to be spoiled growing up with a billionaire father. He felt immensely grateful for having been rescued from a potentially lethal predicament, even if it was due to a feud between an overindulged child and a megalomaniacal father. The real victims of the whole ordeal were those who had died and those who might still die from this new retroviral disease.

Once they had crossed the George Washington Bridge to Manhattan, David exited onto the West Side Highway, heading south.

“You seem to know where you are going,” Jack commented. He hadn’t given David the address.

“I’ve been living in the city for five years,” David said. “I know my way around. And I know you live at Sixty-three West 106th Street. Kang-Dae sent me a copy of the dossier my father had ordered on you.”

With some difficulty, Jack suppressed his knee-jerk irritation at the violation of his personal space that Wei Zhao’s investigation represented, but the thought reminded him of the bizarre shooting incident the night before. He mentioned it to David and then questioned, “Is that something you know anything at all about?”

“I heard it was a close call,” David said, suggesting he knew a great deal more than that.

“How so?” Jack asked, but it seemed as if his worst fears were being confirmed. If it was a close call, then Jack had been involved.

“Let me put it this way,” David said. “Our group became aware of a possible plot to have you taken care of. We weren’t entirely certain what that meant, so we decided it best to provide you with protection from a possible assassination attempt if that is what it meant. We were committed to not let anything to happen to you. We felt strongly that you were our best hope that my father and his minions wouldn’t be able to sweep the current problems with Carol Stewart under the carpet. Unfortunately, it turned out that we were right, and it was a good thing we had some people there.”