Calypso Directive (18 page)

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “What about his apartment?”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “His apartment rent, plus utilities and parking, were paid in advance for six months by Vyrogen. Part of the terms of the agreement.”

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “His job at his advertising firm?”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “He was laid off four months before enrolling in the H1N1 vaccine study.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “I want interviews with his supervisor and coworkers at McEwen and Rogers. Send a female RS:Social. In fact, send Rebecca Knight. I want confirmatory evidence for all of this. Also, find out who is his closest male colleague at the firm. I want two interviews with him: one at the office and one after working hours, somewhere private. Find out everything he knows. Was Foster in debt? If so, how much did he owe? What kind of guy is he? What accounts did he handle for his firm? Does he have ties to or contacts in the pharmaceutical, biotech, or government realms? What was he working on right before getting mixed up with Vyrogen? Did you get all of that, Coordinator?”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “Yes. I'll make it happen. What else?”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “I think we should try to validate Meredith Morley's story about the mutated H1N1 strain. I've never heard any mention of this in popular news or in scientific journals.”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “Okay. I'll add that to the list.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “Next topic?”

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “The events of the theft and Foster's next steps. Meredith seemed convinced that Foster was working with a powerful individual or corporation to steal the formula. If that's true, Foster will be trying to contact that entity, turn over the product, and get paid.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “It's all so inelegant. It doesn't make sense.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “What do you mean?”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Let's assume Foster was hired by someone to steal the formula. Let's further assume this someone is powerful and has resources at his or her disposal. Then why steal the formula like this? If I were the mastermind behind a plot to steal Vyrogen's secret drug, then I would have deployed other agents and technology so, that at the end of the research trial, my mole could walk out of quarantine with the formula secretly in hand. Why make a public spectacle of it? It's too clumsy to have gone down like this on purpose.”

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “Good point. Why would Foster have ever signed onto this gig if he thought
he
was going to be the fall guy?”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Maybe his hand was forced. Maybe Vyrogen learned about the plot, and he had to act immediately or he would lose his window of opportunity.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “And if we follow that line of reasoning, then Foster taking the plague sample was probably an impromptu decision. Think insurance policy—it may be the only leverage he has. If the authorities corner him, he can threaten to release the agent. If the buyer tries to screw him, he can threaten to release the agent. It's what I'd do.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “That's good, Social, I hadn't thought of that.”

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “Regardless of his motive, one thing is certain, Foster is a man on the run, and he needs help. I think we should focus on identifying his accomplice. If I were in his shoes, the first thing I would do is contact my Daddy Warbucks, tell him to ‘show me the money,' and then get my ass on a plane out of the country. We should brainstorm the most likely candidates for Daddy Warbucks. Who has the most to gain from stealing Vyrogen's miracle drug?”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “According to Archer, we should be looking at a list of biotech companies capable of creating the mutated strain of H1N1 that Foster was reportedly infected with.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “I can shorten that list considerably based on the probability matrix I constructed. We should begin our search by focusing on pharmaceutical companies in direct competition with Vyrogen for BioShield funding.”

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “What is BioShield?”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Mr. Parish, can you please brief the team on Project BioShield?”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “On July 21, 2004, President George W. Bush signed into law Project BioShield. The Project's stated purpose is to provide funding for new medical countermeasures against chemical, biological, radiological and nuclear threats. The stakes: five and a half billion dollars of appropriated funds for the purchase of countermeasures against the most deadly biological agents, including smallpox, anthrax, plague, and others.” Project funding is managed by the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, or BARDA.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “I remember hearing something about this. Didn't Congress just reallocate a portion of the BioShield funding?”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “Yes, approximately one and a half billion has be reallocated. To date, two and half billion dollars has been contracted, and of that amount nearly one billion has gone exclusively to the manufacture of anthrax vaccines. Which leaves roughly one and half billion remaining.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “The article I read stated that one of the criticisms of the program is that no broad-spectrum countermeasures have emerged from the efforts to date.”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “That is correct. Our research shows that since its inception, all BioShield contracts have been allocated to specific threat agents. In the industry, this is commonly referred to as the ‘One Bug, One Drug' approach.”

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “No wonder Morley is so hot and bothered.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “Kalen, be serious.”

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “I am serious. She's mad at work on a supposed cure-all drug, and before she can swoop in and claim
all
of what's left of BioShield for Vyrogen, Congress starts stealing from the honey pot.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “He's right. If Vyrogen really has discovered something that combats a range of viruses
and
bacteria, then the federal government has no reason to spread the wealth. Why continue to follow the One Bug, One Drug approach, when you could invest all the remaining funds in one silver bullet? Just like Parish said, BioShield hasn't awarded a single contract to a broad-spectrum countermeasure. If what Meredith Morley told us is true, then Vyrogen's product would be the first.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “If I were Vyrogen, I'd negotiate to use BioShield money to fund the remaining clinical testing for my miracle drug. Then, in addition to my government contract, I'd have an FDA-approved product I could turn around and sell in the private sector for tens of billions of dollars.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “This product is like Excalibur. Whoever possesses it holds the power to rule Camelot. In this case, Camelot is the global market share for therapeutics associated with infectious disease.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “I think we have a working theory.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Coordinator, we need a list of names, Director Level and above, in every company that competes with Vyrogen in the infectious disease and vaccine sector.”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “Understood. Any other instructions?”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “Give us everything you have on Meredith Morley. I'm not ready to rule out her involvement.”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “I'm sorry Ms. Mesnil, but Meredith Morley's personal file is restricted access. Founder Level only.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “What? On whose authority?”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “Founder One. I'm sorry but you'll have to take this matter up directly with Founder One.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “Understood. While we're waiting on the data to come back to us, we should focus on locating Foster before his trail goes cold. The first step is to—”

R. Parish—
RS:Coordinator
: “Excuse my interruption, but I just received a report from one of our assets in Prague that three individuals have checked into a hospital in Prague exhibiting plaguelike symptoms. They were immediately placed into quarantine and are undergoing further testing.”

K. Immel—
RS:Physical
: “Looks like Foster's trail has just heated up.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “Mr. Parish, please make the necessary transportation arrangements upon our landing. Interviewing the infected witnesses is our number one priority . . . that is, if they're still alive by the time we get there.”

Czech–Austrian Border

J
ULIE STOOD AT
the back of the sedan fumbling with her keys. The border patrol officer stood next to her, impatiently tapping the toe of his boot on the pavement. She tried to steady her hand as she reached to unlock the trunk, but the keys rattled noticeably. The lock mechanism clicked when she turned the key, and the trunk popped up. She lifted the lid the rest of the way, and the young officer eagerly shined his flashlight inside.

After a quick survey, he turned to her. The look on his face was a mixture of both disappointment and suspicion. He stared at her a long moment, but said nothing. Except for an old gray blanket and the spare tire, the trunk was empty. The fugitive whom the officer was hoping to find was presently one kilometer to the west, hoofing it across the border.

“You can close the lid,” the officer said.

Julie exhaled and walked toward the driver's side door.

“Ms. Ponte, are you certain you do not know this American, William Foster?” he said following her.

She paused. It was critical to sound convincing, but not too convincing. She told herself to imagine he was talking about someone else, a different William Foster. The man he was referring to probably called himself Bill or Billy. She had never met Billy Foster before.

“I'm sorry, but no, I do not know the man you are looking for.”

He fixed his icy stare on her. She surmised he was looking for nonverbal cues to indicate she was lying—rapid blinking, averting of the eyes, or maybe a tensing of the facial muscles. She knew trained interrogators used facial expressions as litmus tests for truth telling, but she was not an expert in such matters. In trying to manipulate her expression, she might inadvertently tip off to the very secret she was working so hard to conceal.

Then, like Apollo in his sun chariot chasing away the stygian night, the headlights of an approaching semi-truck illuminated the space around them. Someone brazenly honked. The traffic queue, now four vehicles deep, created psychological pressure for progression. An expectation of advancement. It was time for Julie Ponte to be on her way. With purpose, she reached for the door handle.

“Ms. Ponte?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes, officer?”

“Don't you want to close the lid?” he questioned, gesturing back to the open trunk.

“Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me.”

A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead and fell to the ground, glistening in the yellow glow from the headlights of the car now idling ten feet behind her Opel.

She jogged back and shut the trunk lid.

“Is there anything else, or am I free to go home?”

The young border patrolman's brow furrowed. His mouth twisted into the frustrated expression she had become so intimately familiar with over the past ten minutes. He clicked off the flashlight and slid it into a holster ring fastened to his belt.

“No more questions. Welcome back to Austria, Ms. Ponte.”

“Thank you. Gute Nacht.”