Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense Fiction, #Fiction - Espionage, #Thriller, #Detective and mystery stories, #Espionage, #Onbekend, #Medical, #Medical novels, #New York (N.Y.), #Forensic pathologists, #Equatorial Guinea, #Forensic pathologists - Fiction, #Robin - Prose & Criticism, #Equatorial Guinea - Fiction, #Cook, #New York (N.Y.) - Fiction
Chromosome 6 (45 page)
about now.
"Your reaction to this is starting to concern me," Siegfried said. "You didn't let Stapleton and his friends in?" Raymond asked. "No, of course not," Siegfried said.
"Maybe you should have," Raymond said. "Then we could have dealt with them. Jack Stapleton is a very big danger to the program. I mean, is there a way here in the Zone to take care of such people?" "There is," Siegfried said. "We just turn them over to the Equatoguinean minister of justice or the minister of defense along with a sizable bonus. Punishment is both discreet and very rapid. The government is eager to ensure that nothing threatens the goose that lays the golden egg. All we need to say is that they are seriously interfering with GenSys operations." "Then if they come back, I think you should let them in," Raymond said. "Perhaps you should tell me why," Siegfried said. "Do you remember Carlo Franconi?" Raymond asked. "Carlo Franconi the patient?" Siegfried asked. Raymond nodded.
"Of course," Siegfried said.
"Well, it started with him," Raymond said as he began the complicated story. "You think it is safe?" Laurie asked. She was looking at a huge hollowed-out log canoe with a thatched canopy that was pulled halfway up the beach. On the back was a sizable, beat-up outboard motor. It was leaking fuel as evidenced by an opalescent scum that ringed the stern. "Reportedly it goes all the way to Gabon twice a day," Jack said. "That's farther than Cogo." "How much rent did you have to pay?" Natalie asked. It had taken Jack a half hour of negotiations to get it.
"A bit more than I expected," Jack said. "Apparently, some people rented one a couple of days ago, and it hasn't been seen since. That episode has driven the rental price up, I'm afraid." "More than a hundred or less?" Warren asked. He, too, wasn't impressed with the craft's apparent seaworthiness. "Because if it was more than a C note you got took." "Well, let's not quibble," Jack said. "In fact, let's get the show on the road unless you guys want to back out."
There was a moment of silence while the group eyed each other. "I'm not a great swimmer," Warren admitted.
"Your reaction to this is starting to concern me," Siegfried said. "You didn't let Stapleton and his friends in?" Raymond asked. "No, of course not," Siegfried said.
"Maybe you should have," Raymond said. "Then we could have dealt with them. Jack Stapleton is a very big danger to the program. I mean, is there a way here in the Zone to take care of such people?" "There is," Siegfried said. "We just turn them over to the Equatoguinean minister of justice or the minister of defense along with a sizable bonus. Punishment is both discreet and very rapid. The government is eager to ensure that nothing threatens the goose that lays the golden egg. All we need to say is that they are seriously interfering with GenSys operations." "Then if they come back, I think you should let them in," Raymond said. "Perhaps you should tell me why," Siegfried said. "Do you remember Carlo Franconi?" Raymond asked. "Carlo Franconi the patient?" Siegfried asked. Raymond nodded.
"Of course," Siegfried said.
"Well, it started with him," Raymond said as he began the complicated story. "You think it is safe?" Laurie asked. She was looking at a huge hollowed-out log canoe with a thatched canopy that was pulled halfway up the beach. On the back was a sizable, beat-up outboard motor. It was leaking fuel as evidenced by an opalescent scum that ringed the stern. "Reportedly it goes all the way to Gabon twice a day," Jack said. "That's farther than Cogo." "How much rent did you have to pay?" Natalie asked. It had taken Jack a half hour of negotiations to get it.
"A bit more than I expected," Jack said. "Apparently, some people rented one a couple of days ago, and it hasn't been seen since. That episode has driven the rental price up, I'm afraid." "More than a hundred or less?" Warren asked. He, too, wasn't impressed with the craft's apparent seaworthiness. "Because if it was more than a C note you got took." "Well, let's not quibble," Jack said. "In fact, let's get the show on the road unless you guys want to back out."
There was a moment of silence while the group eyed each other. "I'm not a great swimmer," Warren admitted.
"I can assure you that we are not planning on going into the water," Jack said.
"All right," Warren said. "Let's go."
"You ladies concur?" Jack asked.
Both Laurie and Natalie nodded without a lot of enthusiasm. At the moment, the noonday sun was enervating. Despite being on the shore of the estuary, there was not a breath of air. With the women positioned in the stern to help lift the bow, Jack and Warren pushed the heavy pirogue off the shore and jumped in one after the other. Everyone helped paddle out about fifty feet. Jack attended to the motor, compressing the small hand pump on top of the red fuel tank. He'd had a boat as a child on a lake in the Midwest and had a lot of experience fussing with an outboard. "This canoe is a lot more stable than it looks," Laurie said. Even with Jack moving around in the stern it was barely rocking.
"And no leaks," Natalie said. "That was my concern." Warren stayed silent. He had a white knuckle grip on the gunwale. To Jack's surprise, the engine started after only two pulls. A moment later, they were off, motoring almost due east. After the oppressive heat the breeze felt good. The drive to Acalayong had been accomplished quicker than they'd anticipated, even though the road deteriorated in comparison to the road north of the Cogo turnoff. There was no traffic save for an occasional northward-bound van inconceivably packed with passengers. Even the luggage racks on the tops had two or three people holding on for dear life. Acalayong had brought smiles to everyone's face. It was indicated as a city on the map but turned out to consist of no more than a handful of tawdry concrete shops, bars, and a few hotels. There was a cement-block police post with several men in dirty uniforms sprawled in rattan chairs in the shade of the porch. They'd eyed Jack and the others with soporific disdain as the van had passed by. Although they had found the town comically honky-tonk and litter strewn, they'd been able to get something to eat and drink as well as procure the boat. With some unease, they'd parked the van in sight of the police station, hoping it would be there on their return. "How long did you estimate it would take us?" Laurie shouted over the noise of the outboard. It was particularly loud because a portion of its cowling was missing. "An hour," Jack yelled back. "But the boat owner told me it would be more like twenty minutes. It's apparently just around the headland directly ahead." At that moment, they were crossing the two-mile-wide mouth of Rio Congue. The jungle-covered shorelines were hazy with mist. Thunderheads loomed above; two thunderstorms had hit while they'd been in the van.
"I hope we don't get caught out here in the rain," Natalie said. But Mother Nature ignored her wish. Less than five minutes later, it was pouring so hard that some of the huge drops splashed river water into the
"All right," Warren said. "Let's go."
"You ladies concur?" Jack asked.
Both Laurie and Natalie nodded without a lot of enthusiasm. At the moment, the noonday sun was enervating. Despite being on the shore of the estuary, there was not a breath of air. With the women positioned in the stern to help lift the bow, Jack and Warren pushed the heavy pirogue off the shore and jumped in one after the other. Everyone helped paddle out about fifty feet. Jack attended to the motor, compressing the small hand pump on top of the red fuel tank. He'd had a boat as a child on a lake in the Midwest and had a lot of experience fussing with an outboard. "This canoe is a lot more stable than it looks," Laurie said. Even with Jack moving around in the stern it was barely rocking.
"And no leaks," Natalie said. "That was my concern." Warren stayed silent. He had a white knuckle grip on the gunwale. To Jack's surprise, the engine started after only two pulls. A moment later, they were off, motoring almost due east. After the oppressive heat the breeze felt good. The drive to Acalayong had been accomplished quicker than they'd anticipated, even though the road deteriorated in comparison to the road north of the Cogo turnoff. There was no traffic save for an occasional northward-bound van inconceivably packed with passengers. Even the luggage racks on the tops had two or three people holding on for dear life. Acalayong had brought smiles to everyone's face. It was indicated as a city on the map but turned out to consist of no more than a handful of tawdry concrete shops, bars, and a few hotels. There was a cement-block police post with several men in dirty uniforms sprawled in rattan chairs in the shade of the porch. They'd eyed Jack and the others with soporific disdain as the van had passed by. Although they had found the town comically honky-tonk and litter strewn, they'd been able to get something to eat and drink as well as procure the boat. With some unease, they'd parked the van in sight of the police station, hoping it would be there on their return. "How long did you estimate it would take us?" Laurie shouted over the noise of the outboard. It was particularly loud because a portion of its cowling was missing. "An hour," Jack yelled back. "But the boat owner told me it would be more like twenty minutes. It's apparently just around the headland directly ahead." At that moment, they were crossing the two-mile-wide mouth of Rio Congue. The jungle-covered shorelines were hazy with mist. Thunderheads loomed above; two thunderstorms had hit while they'd been in the van.
"I hope we don't get caught out here in the rain," Natalie said. But Mother Nature ignored her wish. Less than five minutes later, it was pouring so hard that some of the huge drops splashed river water into the
boat. Jack slowed the engine and allowed the boat to guide itself, while he joined the others under the
thatched canopy. To everyone's pleasant surprise, they stayed completely dry. As soon as they rounded the headland, they saw Cogo's pier. Constructed of heavy pressure-treated timber, it was a far cry from the rickety docks at Acalayong. As they got closer, they could see there was a floating portion off the tip.
The first view of Cogo impressed everyone. In contrast with the dilapidated and haphazardly constructed buildings with flat, corrugated metal roofs endemic to Bata and all of Acalayong, Cogo was comprised of attractive, tiled, whitewashed structures reflecting a rich colonial ambiance. To the left and almost hidden by the jungle was a modern power station. Its presence was obvious only because of its improbably tall smokestack.
Jack cut the engine way back as the town approached so they could hear each other speak. Tied along the dock were several pirogues similar to the one they were in, though these others were piled high with fish netting.
"I'm glad to see other boats," Jack said. "I was afraid our canoe would stand out like a sore thumb." "Do you think that large, modern building is the hospital?" Laurie said while pointing. Jack followed her line of sight. "Yup, at least according to Arturo, and he should know. He was part of the initial building crew out here."
"I suppose that's our destination," Laurie said. "I'd guess," Jack said. "At least initially. Arturo said the animal complex is a few miles away in the jungle. We might try to figure out a way to get out there." "The town is bigger than I expected," Warren said. "I was told it was an abandoned Spanish colonial town," Jack explained. "Not all of it has been renovated, but from here it sure looks like it has." "What did the Spanish do here?" Natalie asked. "It's nothing but jungle." "They grew coffee and cocoa," Jack said. "At least that's my understanding. Of course, I don't have any idea where they grew it."
"Uh-oh, I see a soldier," Laurie said.
"I see him, too," Jack said. His eyes had been searching along the waterfront as they came closer. The soldier was dressed in the same jungle camouflage fatigues and red beret as the ones at the gate. He was aimlessly pacing a cobblestone square immediately at the base of the pier with an assault rifle slung over his shoulder.
"Does that mean we switch to plan C?" Warren questioned teasingly. "Not yet," Jack said. "Obviously, he's where he is to interdict people coming off the pier. But look at that Chickee Hut built on the beach. If we got in there, we'd be home free."
thatched canopy. To everyone's pleasant surprise, they stayed completely dry. As soon as they rounded the headland, they saw Cogo's pier. Constructed of heavy pressure-treated timber, it was a far cry from the rickety docks at Acalayong. As they got closer, they could see there was a floating portion off the tip.
The first view of Cogo impressed everyone. In contrast with the dilapidated and haphazardly constructed buildings with flat, corrugated metal roofs endemic to Bata and all of Acalayong, Cogo was comprised of attractive, tiled, whitewashed structures reflecting a rich colonial ambiance. To the left and almost hidden by the jungle was a modern power station. Its presence was obvious only because of its improbably tall smokestack.
Jack cut the engine way back as the town approached so they could hear each other speak. Tied along the dock were several pirogues similar to the one they were in, though these others were piled high with fish netting.
"I'm glad to see other boats," Jack said. "I was afraid our canoe would stand out like a sore thumb." "Do you think that large, modern building is the hospital?" Laurie said while pointing. Jack followed her line of sight. "Yup, at least according to Arturo, and he should know. He was part of the initial building crew out here."
"I suppose that's our destination," Laurie said. "I'd guess," Jack said. "At least initially. Arturo said the animal complex is a few miles away in the jungle. We might try to figure out a way to get out there." "The town is bigger than I expected," Warren said. "I was told it was an abandoned Spanish colonial town," Jack explained. "Not all of it has been renovated, but from here it sure looks like it has." "What did the Spanish do here?" Natalie asked. "It's nothing but jungle." "They grew coffee and cocoa," Jack said. "At least that's my understanding. Of course, I don't have any idea where they grew it."
"Uh-oh, I see a soldier," Laurie said.
"I see him, too," Jack said. His eyes had been searching along the waterfront as they came closer. The soldier was dressed in the same jungle camouflage fatigues and red beret as the ones at the gate. He was aimlessly pacing a cobblestone square immediately at the base of the pier with an assault rifle slung over his shoulder.
"Does that mean we switch to plan C?" Warren questioned teasingly. "Not yet," Jack said. "Obviously, he's where he is to interdict people coming off the pier. But look at that Chickee Hut built on the beach. If we got in there, we'd be home free."
"We can't just run the canoe up onto the beach," Laurie said. "He'll see that as well."
"Look how high that pier is," Jack said. "What if we were to slip underneath, beach the canoe there and then walk to the Chickee Hut? What do you think?" "Sounds cool," Warren said. "But this boat is not going to fit under that pier, no way." Jack stood up and made his way over to one of the poles that supported the thatched roof. It disappeared into a hole in the gunwale. Grasping it with both hands, he pulled it up. "How convenient!" he said. "This canoe is a convertible."
A few minutes later, they had all the poles out, and the thatched roof had been converted to a pile of sticks and dried leaves. They distributed it along both sides under the benches. "The owner's not going to be happy about this," Natalie commented. Jack angled the boat so that the pier shielded them as much as possible from the line of sight from the square. Jack cut the engine just at the moment they glided into the shade under the pier. Grasping the timbers they guided the boat toward shore, being careful to duck under crossbeams. The boat scraped up the shady patch of shore and came to a stop. "So far so good," Jack said. He encouraged the women and Warren to get out. Then, with Warren pulling and Jack paddling, they got the boat high on the beach. Jack got out and pointed to a stone wall that ran perpendicular to the base of the pier before disappearing into the gently rising sand of the beach. "Let's hug the wall. When we clear it, head for the Chickee Bar."
A few minutes later, they were in the bar. The soldier had not paid them any heed. Either he didn't see them or he didn't care.
The bar was deserted except for a black man carefully cutting up lemons and limes. Jack motioned toward the stools and suggested a celebratory drink. Everyone was happy to comply. It had been hot in the canoe after the sun came out and especially after the canopy had come down. The bartender came over immediately. His name tag identified him as Saturnino. In contradiction to his name, he was a jovial fellow. He was wearing a wild print shirt and a pillbox hat similar to the one Arturo had on when he picked them up at the airport the previous afternoon. Following Natalie's lead, everyone had Coke with a slice of lemon. "Not much business today," Jack commented to Saturnino. "Not until after five," the bartender said. "Then we are very busy." "We're new here," Jack said. "What money do we use?" "You can sign," Saturnino.
"Look how high that pier is," Jack said. "What if we were to slip underneath, beach the canoe there and then walk to the Chickee Hut? What do you think?" "Sounds cool," Warren said. "But this boat is not going to fit under that pier, no way." Jack stood up and made his way over to one of the poles that supported the thatched roof. It disappeared into a hole in the gunwale. Grasping it with both hands, he pulled it up. "How convenient!" he said. "This canoe is a convertible."
A few minutes later, they had all the poles out, and the thatched roof had been converted to a pile of sticks and dried leaves. They distributed it along both sides under the benches. "The owner's not going to be happy about this," Natalie commented. Jack angled the boat so that the pier shielded them as much as possible from the line of sight from the square. Jack cut the engine just at the moment they glided into the shade under the pier. Grasping the timbers they guided the boat toward shore, being careful to duck under crossbeams. The boat scraped up the shady patch of shore and came to a stop. "So far so good," Jack said. He encouraged the women and Warren to get out. Then, with Warren pulling and Jack paddling, they got the boat high on the beach. Jack got out and pointed to a stone wall that ran perpendicular to the base of the pier before disappearing into the gently rising sand of the beach. "Let's hug the wall. When we clear it, head for the Chickee Bar."
A few minutes later, they were in the bar. The soldier had not paid them any heed. Either he didn't see them or he didn't care.
The bar was deserted except for a black man carefully cutting up lemons and limes. Jack motioned toward the stools and suggested a celebratory drink. Everyone was happy to comply. It had been hot in the canoe after the sun came out and especially after the canopy had come down. The bartender came over immediately. His name tag identified him as Saturnino. In contradiction to his name, he was a jovial fellow. He was wearing a wild print shirt and a pillbox hat similar to the one Arturo had on when he picked them up at the airport the previous afternoon. Following Natalie's lead, everyone had Coke with a slice of lemon. "Not much business today," Jack commented to Saturnino. "Not until after five," the bartender said. "Then we are very busy." "We're new here," Jack said. "What money do we use?" "You can sign," Saturnino.
Jack looked at Laurie for permission. Laurie shook her head. "We'd rather pay," he said. "Are dollars
okay?"
"What you like," Saturnino said. "Dollars or CFA. It makes no difference." "Where is the hospital?" Jack asked.
Saturnino pointed over his shoulder. "Up the street until you get to the main square. It is the big building on the left."
"What do they do there?" Jack asked.
Saturnino looked at Jack as if he were crazy. "They take care of people." "Do people come from America just to go to the hospital?" Jack asked. Saturnino shrugged. "I don't know about that," he said. He took the bills Jack had put on the bar and turned to the cash register.
"Nice try," Laurie whispered.
"It would have been too easy," Jack agreed. Refreshed after their cold drinks, the group headed out into the sunlight. They passed within fifty feet of the soldier who continued to ignore them. After a short walk up a hot cobblestone street, they came to a small green surrounded by plantation-style homes. "It reminds me of some of the Caribbean Islands," Laurie said. Five minutes later, they entered the tree-lined town square. The group of soldiers lolling in front of the town hall diagonally across from where they were standing spoiled the otherwise idyllic tableau. "Whoa," Jack said. "There's a whole battalion." "I thought you said that if there were soldiers at the gate they wouldn't have to have any in the town," Laurie said.
"I've been proved wrong," Jack acknowledged. "But there's no need to go over and announce ourselves. This is the hospital lab complex in front of us." From the corner of the square, the building appeared to take up most of a Cogo city block. There was an entrance facing the square, but there was also one down the side street to their left. To avoid remaining in view of the lounging soldiers, they went to the side entrance. "What are you going to say if we're questioned?" Laurie asked with some concern. "And walking into a hospital, you know it's bound to happen." "I'm going to improvise," Jack said. He yanked the door open and ushered his friends in with an exaggerated bow.
Laurie glanced at Natalie and Warren and rolled her eyes. At least Jack could still be charming even
okay?"
"What you like," Saturnino said. "Dollars or CFA. It makes no difference." "Where is the hospital?" Jack asked.
Saturnino pointed over his shoulder. "Up the street until you get to the main square. It is the big building on the left."
"What do they do there?" Jack asked.
Saturnino looked at Jack as if he were crazy. "They take care of people." "Do people come from America just to go to the hospital?" Jack asked. Saturnino shrugged. "I don't know about that," he said. He took the bills Jack had put on the bar and turned to the cash register.
"Nice try," Laurie whispered.
"It would have been too easy," Jack agreed. Refreshed after their cold drinks, the group headed out into the sunlight. They passed within fifty feet of the soldier who continued to ignore them. After a short walk up a hot cobblestone street, they came to a small green surrounded by plantation-style homes. "It reminds me of some of the Caribbean Islands," Laurie said. Five minutes later, they entered the tree-lined town square. The group of soldiers lolling in front of the town hall diagonally across from where they were standing spoiled the otherwise idyllic tableau. "Whoa," Jack said. "There's a whole battalion." "I thought you said that if there were soldiers at the gate they wouldn't have to have any in the town," Laurie said.
"I've been proved wrong," Jack acknowledged. "But there's no need to go over and announce ourselves. This is the hospital lab complex in front of us." From the corner of the square, the building appeared to take up most of a Cogo city block. There was an entrance facing the square, but there was also one down the side street to their left. To avoid remaining in view of the lounging soldiers, they went to the side entrance. "What are you going to say if we're questioned?" Laurie asked with some concern. "And walking into a hospital, you know it's bound to happen." "I'm going to improvise," Jack said. He yanked the door open and ushered his friends in with an exaggerated bow.
Laurie glanced at Natalie and Warren and rolled her eyes. At least Jack could still be charming even
when he was most exasperating.
After entering the building, everyone shivered with delight. Never had air conditioning felt quite so good. The room they found themselves in appeared to be a lounge, complete with wall-to-wall carpeting, club chairs, and couches. A large bookcase lined one wall. Some of the shelving was on an angle to display an impressive collection of periodicals from Time to National Geographic. There were about a half dozen people sitting in the room, all of them reading. In the back wall at desk height was an opening fronted with sliding glass panels. Behind the glass a black woman in a blue uniform dress was sitting at a desk. To the right of the opening was a hall with several elevators.
"Could all these people be patients?" Laurie asked. "Good question," Jack said. "Somehow, I don't think so. They all look too healthy and too comfortable. Let's talk to the secretary or whoever she is." Warren and Natalie were intimidated by the hospital environment. They silently followed after Jack and Laurie.
Jack rapped softly on the glass. The woman looked up from her work and slid the glass open. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't see you arrive. Are you checking in?" "No," Jack said. "All my bodily functions are working fine at the moment." "Excuse me?" the woman questioned.
"We're here to see the hospital, not use its services," Jack said. "We're doctors." "This isn't the hospital," the woman said. "This is the Inn. You can either go out and come in the front of the building or follow the hall to your right. The hospital is beyond the double doors." "Thank you," Jack said.
"My pleasure," the woman said. She leaned forward and watched as Jack and the others disappeared around the corner. Perplexed, the woman sat back and picked up her phone. Jack led the others through the double doors. Immediately, the surroundings looked more familiar. The floors were vinyl and the walls were painted a soothing hospital green. A faint antiseptic smell was detectable.
"This is more like it," Jack said.
They entered a room whose windows fronted on the square. Between the windows were a large pair of doors leading to the outside. There were a few couches and chairs on area rugs forming distinct conversational groupings, but it was nothing like the lounge they'd initially entered. But like the lounge, this space had a glass-fronted information cubbyhole. Jack again knocked on the glass. Another woman slid open the glass partition. She was equally as cordial.
After entering the building, everyone shivered with delight. Never had air conditioning felt quite so good. The room they found themselves in appeared to be a lounge, complete with wall-to-wall carpeting, club chairs, and couches. A large bookcase lined one wall. Some of the shelving was on an angle to display an impressive collection of periodicals from Time to National Geographic. There were about a half dozen people sitting in the room, all of them reading. In the back wall at desk height was an opening fronted with sliding glass panels. Behind the glass a black woman in a blue uniform dress was sitting at a desk. To the right of the opening was a hall with several elevators.
"Could all these people be patients?" Laurie asked. "Good question," Jack said. "Somehow, I don't think so. They all look too healthy and too comfortable. Let's talk to the secretary or whoever she is." Warren and Natalie were intimidated by the hospital environment. They silently followed after Jack and Laurie.
Jack rapped softly on the glass. The woman looked up from her work and slid the glass open. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't see you arrive. Are you checking in?" "No," Jack said. "All my bodily functions are working fine at the moment." "Excuse me?" the woman questioned.
"We're here to see the hospital, not use its services," Jack said. "We're doctors." "This isn't the hospital," the woman said. "This is the Inn. You can either go out and come in the front of the building or follow the hall to your right. The hospital is beyond the double doors." "Thank you," Jack said.
"My pleasure," the woman said. She leaned forward and watched as Jack and the others disappeared around the corner. Perplexed, the woman sat back and picked up her phone. Jack led the others through the double doors. Immediately, the surroundings looked more familiar. The floors were vinyl and the walls were painted a soothing hospital green. A faint antiseptic smell was detectable.
"This is more like it," Jack said.
They entered a room whose windows fronted on the square. Between the windows were a large pair of doors leading to the outside. There were a few couches and chairs on area rugs forming distinct conversational groupings, but it was nothing like the lounge they'd initially entered. But like the lounge, this space had a glass-fronted information cubbyhole. Jack again knocked on the glass. Another woman slid open the glass partition. She was equally as cordial.
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