Vaccine Nation (16 page)

“And I won’t stay alive unless I get some broader assurances from you.”

“I can’t give you any broader assurances unless I know what you’re talking about.”

“Exactly. So what do you need to hear from me before you can convince me that you can help? Because I’m not coming in
unless I get those assurances. I’ve got people chasing me. And shooting at me. Do you know what that’s like?”

Angela Stevens, bitchy sophomore lawyer, ignored Dani’s last question. “Who am I speaking to?”

“My name is Dani North. My film,
The Drugging of Our Children,
just won best documentary at the Tribeca Film Festival in New York. The day after that, two days ago, a man named David Maguire, who I believe was intending to be a whistleblower on the federal vaccine program, was murdered in front of me. He gave me a USB flash memory drive with data on it that I believe contains data that links the National Immunization Program to the epidemic of autism in this country. Since Maguire was murdered, I’ve had an attempt on my life at my apartment, followed by the murder of a policeman in my apartment, a murder of a pharmaceutical industry whistleblower, an attempt on my life on a train from New York to Washington, another in a hotel room in Washington, and another attempt on my life on the National Mall. So I’m not screwing around. Somebody’s trying to kill me. And probably trying to get the data that Maguire handed me. I believe that the pharmaceutical industry is behind this. Specifically, I believe that the company Maguire worked for, Pharma International, is behind this. And I believe Grover Madsen, the CEO of Pharma International, is the man responsible for all of it.” She paused for breath. “So what can you do for me?”

Angela Stevens, didn’t respond right away. Finally, she said, “Ms. North what proof of all this do you have?”

“I have the USB flash memory drive. I have a former pharmaceutical industry researcher who is evaluating its data as we speak. He’s someone who worked on a vaccine study for five years before it was terminated. It was an industry-wide study. It
started to show correlations between vaccines and autism, so the industry shut it down.”

“And you have this data?”

“I have the raw data. The researcher is evaluating it right now.”

“You don’t have his results?”

“Not yet.”

“When will you have them?”

“I’m not sure. But meanwhile people are trying to kill me.” Dani began pacing back and forth in the restroom, squeezing her hand around the cell phone.

“Then come in.”

“I already told you. I’m not coming in until you can guarantee you’ll protect me.”

Stevens paused again. “I’ll speak to the Special Counsel and get back to you with our response.”

“Ms. Stevens. That’s bullshit. You tell Olsen I’m likely to be murdered in the next two hours unless I keep myself out of sight or he agrees to help me. And tell him that I’ve probably got information that points to a conspiracy by one of the biggest industries in this country. So take the clothespin off your nose and do your job. My ass is on the line out here, and you’re a government representative working for me.”

Dani’s anger was futile. Stevens said, “Ms. North, I’ll speak to the Special Counsel and get back to you. I assume the number you’re calling on is good?”

“Good.”

Damn.
That could’ve gone better. Dani walked out of the restroom.

“I gather it didn’t go well,” Richard said, looking at her.

“You could say that. They aren’t promising anything without some concrete proof.”

“Of what?”

“Of everything.”

“We can direct them to a body in room 721 and the Willard.”

“Not that kind of proof. I need to get to Salisbury, find out where he stands with Maguire’s data.” She dialed Salisbury’s phone number. No answer, so she left a message to call her back. “No luck.”

Richard started to speak. Her cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Ms. North?” Salisbury.

“Mr. Salisbury, I just tried to call you.”

“I know. I saw the number. I’m being careful.”

“I’m under some pressure here. Where do you stand with Maguire’s data?”

“As I said, I’m being careful. I’ve just seen on the news that John McCloskey was murdered. I’m supportive of the cause, but I’m afraid I can’t help you under those circumstances.” Dani could hear the resignation in his voice. She felt the strength flow from her legs.

“Mr. Salisbury, I need you.
We
need you.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” He hung up.

Madsen was pacing in his hotel room when Stiles called on his BlackBerry.

“Grover, it isn’t good news.”

“Go ahead.”

“Our team saw the girl and Blum leaving the hotel. They followed them out onto the National Mall, but lost them in the crowd.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Eight guys. A few of our team got close enough to spit on them and then the crowd closed in. When the cops showed up they arrested four of our team. The girl and Blum got away.”

That meant that Xavier’s new guy missed them at the hotel. Either that or he flushed them. At any event he blew it. “Anything else?”

“Nothing for now.”

“Keep me posted.” Madsen hung up. His mind raced. So when they got flushed out onto the mall, the contractor either wasn’t there or he’d missed them, too. Madsen dialed the contractor.

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“Out on the National Mall. In the crowd. The guy wasn’t at the Ritz-Carlton.”

“Yes, turns out he was at the Willard. With the girl, apparently. But they got flushed out onto the National Mall, into the crowd. You see anything unusual?”

“If I did, wouldn’t I have told you?”

Madsen acted like he hadn’t responded. “We had some men tailing them, then lost them in the crowd.”

“How long ago?”

“Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“I’m on it,” the contractor said.

Stark looked at his phone, like it would give him some answers. What the fuck was going on? The client said the girl was “flushed” onto the mall. Must have been the new guy Xavier mentioned to him. If the client knew the girl and the guy were at the Willard,
how come he was clamming up on Stark? Maybe the client had three new guys on the case and gave each one a different hotel to look in. But he’d said “guys” tailing her. A hotshot like this probably had all the money in the world to put whole teams on a deal. So that didn’t seem so odd. What was odd was the client not telling him about it. Was this asshole cutting him out completely?

Stark got back to his motel and opened his laptop. The client had said the girl might go to the anti-vaccine rally on the National Mall. He googled “anti-vaccine” and “Washington, DC” and got a few entries about some Vaccine Choice rally on the National Mall, and a video clip from
Face the Press
earlier in the day. His pulse jumped when he saw a split screen of the girl on the right and some suit on the left. The title read “Dani North, Documentary Filmmaker, Debates Grover Madsen, Pharma CEO, on Vaccines.”
Holy shit.
He clicked on the link, heard Madsen’s voice. It was him. The client. That voice, that attitude, it was unmistakable. So his fatcat client was the CEO of Pharma.

That information was something he could keep in his pocket, use as leverage. If it came down to it, he could put the squeeze on Madsen to make sure he didn’t fuck up his meal ticket with Xavier. He started laughing.
Gotcha, you dickhead.

Stark asked himself where he’d go if he was the girl, hiding out, killing time, and afraid to go back to his hotel. He googled Starbucks. Twelve of them in a one mile radius of the National Mall. Couldn’t hurt. He started checking them out. The ninth one was at 12th Street SW near Jefferson Drive. He spotted the girl and the guy she was with without even going inside. He went back to his Lincoln Town Car, sat behind the tinted windows and waited. He told his driver to keep the car idling

C
INDY’S SISTER
, B
RENDA, GOT TO
the house at Twin Lakes to keep an eye on Gabe and Jack at noon. By then Cindy had decided the lake house wasn’t safe; so she made a reservation for them all at the Hotel Fauchère in Milford, ten minutes from the lake. Gabe wouldn’t mind; he loved the burgers in Bar Louis downstairs. Cindy set out almost immediately after checking them into the Fauchère, which would put her in Washington about 6:00 p.m., given the caution with which she drove. It wasn’t a trip she would even consider unless it was an emergency. But at least she was driving her own Caddy.

Cindy had felt she had to explain to Brenda the possibility that she could be in danger even at the Fauchère, that whoever was after Dani might decide to come after her family. Brenda had accepted it stoically, saying, “Sometimes the little sister gets to give back for all the big sister gave up for her while they were growing up.” She hugged her sister before she got into the Caddy, even kissed her on the cheek through the open window when Cindy was behind the wheel. Brenda wasn’t given to displays of emotion. It gave Cindy the ominous sense that maybe they were in more danger than she’d considered.

Dani and Richard sat in Starbucks for hours, talking, drinking tea, thinking. It was growing dark when Richard said, “We need to find a cheap motel where we can pay cash. I don’t want to take any more chances on being traced through my credit card. Then we regroup and plan what comes next.”

“I have four prepaid Visa cards with $200 on each.”

“Terrific. As good as cash.”

“Okay. So we get a motel. Then what?”

“Maybe hang out and wait. Maybe you try the federal whistleblower agency again. But we need to come up with something. Staying in one place is likely to get us killed.” Richard started punching keys on his BlackBerry. After a minute he held up the browser screen to Dani. “Ben Franklin Motel. They even advertise no ID required, and they accept cash. Care to spend the night with prostitutes banging the headboards on either side of us?”

“You’re such a romantic. How could I resist?”

They hailed a cab. Richard told the cabbie the name of the motel and started to direct him, but the cabbie waved him off. “I know where it is, bud.” Dani saw the cabbie eyeing her in the rearview mirror. It seemed like Richard hadn’t overpromised what to expect from the place. No matter. If they’d been spotted at the Willard, there was probably no chance anyone would find them at the Ben Franklin.

When the girl and the guy came out of the Starbucks two hours later and got into a cab, Stark told his driver to follow from a few car lengths back. “Not too close,” he said. He put on his gloves.

The cab pulled into a semicircular driveway off 14
^th
Street SW. It was stark: no landscaping, concrete driveway and sidewalk, yellow aluminum facade, but clean. Dani got out of the cab and saw a man approaching from the parking lot.

Dani felt a blast of adrenaline.
Him!
The blue-eyed man, the killer. Dani grabbed Richard by the arm and spun around in the driveway. She ran back toward the street, still holding Richard by the arm. Richard must have seen the man because he yelled, “Watch out!” He placed a hand in the middle of her back and pushed, as if to spur her on. Like she needed it. The instinct of life-threat sent her hurtling out onto 14
^th
Street, her arms waving. When she reached the first street she cut hard right, like a wide receiver faking a defender, put her head down and ran on. Partway down the block she glanced over her shoulder. Richard was ten yards behind her. When she reached the next avenue she turned right and glanced back again. The killer was only 10 or 15 yards behind Richard. She could see the gun in his hand. She slowed down just as the killer pulled up, raised the gun and fired. She heard the bullet ricochet off the pavement and felt her heart go to her throat. She heard Richard yell, “Run!” and saw him crouching behind a lamp post, the gun he took from the bellgirl raised in both hands in firing position.
Oh my God! What’s he doing?
She heard two quick cracks of gunfire, saw the recoil of the gun in Richard’s hand. Then another louder pop from a different gun. Richard went down on his back. Her eyes clouded, she wasn’t sure from what, maybe tears, maybe panic, and she ran out into the avenue, crossed it through the sound of horns and screeching tires into the oncoming stream of traffic. Once she reached the sidewalk, she saw the killer gaining on her, running up the opposite sidewalk.

Help!
She took a left into a side street, ran hard until she found an alley, turned into it. She was in a driveway alongside a walled-in yard behind a brownstone. Her mind crazy with what to do next, she saw a garbage can, yanked it to the wall, jumped on it and grabbed the top of the brick wall. She pulled herself up and did a sideways vault over the wall.
To where?
As she went over the top she saw enough to know she’d land safely: bushes of some kind forming the border of a back lawn. She landed on her side, felt the wind go out of her, and crawled into the bushes to conceal herself. She forced herself to suppress her gasps and waited. One minute. Nothing. Another minute. Nothing. She collected herself, perspiring, then checked her arms and legs. Some bruises, nothing broken. She stood and looked around the yard of the brownstone. Richard was gone, cut down on the street. She felt tears coming, then forced them back. Richard, gone. She was on her own.

She sat back down in the bushes, curled her knees up to her chest. She waited again, listening. After ten minutes of hearing nothing, she started to get up, then sank down again, her emotions overcoming her. Richard, gone. Hot tears coursed down her face. Her heart wailed. She held her hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs. Her shoulders shook as she cried, her breath coming in gasps. Richard, gone.

Stark was panting when he got to the end of the side street he’d seen the girl run down. He looked both ways.
Nothing.
She was either a world-class sprinter or had ducked into an alley. He saw flashing lights and heard sirens. There were people on the street
when he’d shot the guy. There must have been witnesses. He turned and headed up the avenue.

When he circled back to the motel, he could see a couple of squad cars two blocks away, but no unusual activity near the motel itself. He got back into the Town Car. He’d need to find a source for another silencer here in Washington. The damn Ruger had sounded like a cannon going off.

Madsen walked down the corridor at the Ritz-Carlton with a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn’t just that he was heading to meet with Sandy Ellison, the CEO of KellerDorne, and the CEOs of the other largest pharma companies. Xavier’s new guy had missed. The contractor had missed immediately afterward on the National Mall, and on top of it sounded odd in their last conversation.
Something up with him?
He wasn’t getting in Madsen’s face as much, but that made Madsen more uncomfortable. The guy’s rage simmered beneath the surface, and who knew what that kind of hostility could explode into. If the contractor had delivered, this meeting would be a hell of a lot easier.

Madsen could smell cigar smoke coming from Ellison’s suite from down the hall. All four of them had probably fired up their stogies. The top Pharma industry CEOs in the world and they’re killing themselves with cancer.
Fucking dumb asses.
It was half the reason Madsen hadn’t wanted to meet in his suite at the Four Seasons.

Madsen knocked. Ellison pulled the door open, cigar in hand, a Texas smile on his face. “Welcome to our soirée, Grover,” Ellison said, massacring the French, “or should I say, your soirée,
Mr. Chairman.” Ellison extended a beefy hand. The man was as big as a bull and about as subtle.

“Sandy, always a pleasure.” Madsen stepped into the room.

“Really? Y’all oughta see your face. Y’all look like someone burst your bubble.”

Madsen rolled his eyes. Making nice with this asshole was getting to be harder each year. “Hi, guys,” he said to Tim Murphy, of AZT, Ron Jacobs, of AltonBolan, and Stefan Merkle, of Merkle Pharma. The five of them were the informal industry association. Their voices drove The Pharma Circle, the formal pharmaceutical industry association, based on the decisions they made in meetings like these. They all had drinks in their hands, although Merkle looked like he was drinking his usual club soda with lime. Jacobs was shitfaced already.

Ellison offered Madsen a drink. “I’ll pass for now, but thanks,” Madsen said. They all sat down. “I don’t have a lot of time, today, guys.” He paused. “I simply wanted to get together to talk about the hearings tomorrow.”

“We’re counting on you for that, Grover,” Jacobs said. “You’re our front man.”

“Master of the Media,” Murphy said. He glanced over at Ellison and Jacobs.

Ellison said, “Except when y’all are getting your ass kicked by little girls.” The three of them burst out laughing. Merkle sat expressionless, as usual.

Madsen let them finish. “You’re a bunch of fucking comedians,” Madsen said. “Anytime any of you wants to let the press stick pins in you while you stand up for the industry, be my guest.” He looked around the room. “What I really want to talk about is precisely this girl, Dani North.” He looked directly at Ellison, didn’t continue until the moron stopped grinning. “As
you could tell from
Face the Press,
she’s still out there. And whatever Maguire gave her, she still has.”