Mark of the Beast (15 page)

The final solution, alpha amino serpenteric acid, he called “Moheric acid.” The final mixed percentage of each solution he kept exceptionally confidential. He hid the piece of paper with the information inside the sole of one of his expensive work shoes, which he wore practically at all times. He figured that even if he left the shoe at home, he could not imagine anyone looking under the sole of his shoe for anything.

All ten rats and five rabbits tested with varying doses of Moheric acid died in less than thirty minutes, with the smallest kill dose at 2.5 millequivalent per deciliter. By accident, he discovered that less than half a teaspoon of Moheric acid in a quarter cup of coffee would kill a rabbit in one to two days, depending on the size of the rabbit.

Autopsies of the rabbits showed massive liver necrosis, or decay. Toxicology studies showed evidence of very high concentrations of ammonia and hydrogen chloride, chemicals normally found in the liver.

“To put it bluntly,” concluded Moheri to himself, “this is a clean death.”

 

PART

VII

 

1

A
SHLAND
A
UDITORIUM, TRADITIONALLY USED
for larger university lectures and for the weekly medical school Clinical Pathology Conferences, was packed with reporters. There were cameras mounted at all corners of the room. There were at least fifteen of them on tripod-like stands. The auditorium was standing room only. Media groups, students, and many faculty members and support staff were in attendance.

Information trumpeting the announcement of a major medical breakthrough was sent previously throughout the university and everyone was invited to attend. By 1:45
P.M.
, the auditorium was filled, and further admissions were denied at 1:55
P.M.
when the standing room was also filled. The conference started promptly at 2:00
P.M.

The president of the university, who was standing on the podium, motioned for attention, and then went ahead and introduced Drs. Abramhoff and Dickerson. Both were seated at the table, in the middle of the stage, with about fifteen microphones between them.

“Thank you all for coming,” Dr. Laposite began. “Let me begin by introducing our distinguished professor, Dr. Abramhoff, who is the Chairman of the Department of Immunology and Oncology.”

Applause followed.

“And also, our distinguished guest, all the way from San Diego, California, Dr. Regina Dickerson, Chief of the Department of Hematology-Oncology and Immunology at the University of La Jolla, School of Medicine.”

Applause followed.

“Today, the Loop University of Chicago is, and has always been, at the forefront of medical research. The university called this news conference to announce a breakthrough in our joint scientific research with the University of La Jolla. These two prominent individuals have championed an important finding. They also have dedicated a lot of man and woman hours in order to achieve this monumental result. The university is highly indebted to both of them. And without further ado, I present to you Dr. Dickerson.”

Another round of applause followed as Dr. Dickerson stepped up to the podium.

When the applause finally died down, she methodically narrated her background and training. Finally, in more commonplace terms, she explained the research concept and their preliminary findings. She then relinquished the podium to Dr. Abramhoff for the conclusion of the presentation.

Dr. Abramhoff began by saying that all criminals are medically programmed at birth, and given the right environment, will perpetrate what they were destined to do.

“We have scientific evidence that proves our theory,” he concluded.

In the question-and-answer session that followed, Dr. Dickerson, however, managed to suggest that their findings might have implications far beyond medicine, possibly into the realms of religion and religious beliefs.

The news conference dominated the evening programs. Many commentators wanted to know exactly what religious implications Dr. Dickerson had alluded to.

The communications department at the Loop University Medical School received several calls requesting media appearances of Dr. Abramhoff and Dr. Dickerson.

Abramhoff arrived home that evening highly pleased. He surmised that the opportunity for national recognition had finally begun.

Flying back to San Diego the next morning, Dickerson was upset at Abramhoff for suggesting that his laboratory was first on the HLA B66 scene. She cursed softly but decided not to do anything, for the moment. She arrived in San Diego to a hero's welcome. She was mobbed at the airport when her itinerary was leaked to the news media. Luckily, Pinkett had arranged a police escort and a limo for the ride back to the university.

A hastily scheduled meeting of all department heads was held. After the congratulatory remarks, the university president directed that all future funding associated with HLA research be separated from the rest of the university's general funds.

That settled, each department head pledged support for the research and offered whatever help they could.

Dr. Dickerson appreciated their support and went home satisfied.

“Doc, I'm proud of you,” congratulated Detective Pinkett on the telephone that night.

“Thanks, Pinky,” responded Dickerson.

“The whole department was talking about your news conference, you know. One thing everyone agreed on is that it would make our job a whole lot easier if we can use your HLA right now,” the detective said.

“That's exactly what I'm afraid of,” Dickerson said. “Every criminal in the United States now has to be tested and proven positive, then after that, we'd need to start testing the rest of the population to see who tests HLA B66 positive.”

“That'll be an impossible task, and will require a lot of time, money, and energy. In fact, a social upheaval.”

“That is exactly my point.”

 

2

W
HILE
D
ICKERSON WAS IN
the shower contemplating her next venture, the phone rang and rang. She ignored the ringing, choosing instead to bask in the water. Shower over, Dickerson finally sat down to eat breakfast, but the phone started ringing again. The caller ID signaled an unknown name and an unknown number. There were earlier calls from the same unknown caller, but the caller had left no messages.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Dickerson?” the caller said, through a strong foreign accent.

“Yes, how can I help you?” Dickerson asked.

“I am Professor Allahaji Abdullah, and I teach theology at the University of Cairo, here in Egypt. My specialty is in Judean, Islamic, and Christian religions, and I am also an expert in ancient religious history.”

“How are you doing, Professor Alla ji…”

“No,
Alla-ha-ji,
” the professor enunciated. “As I was saying, I saw you on KNN-International, and also some of our local TV commentators discussed your findings. I was particularly struck when you mentioned the religious implications of your HLA findings.”

With Dr. Abdullah's accent, and the long distance connection of the call, Dickerson had her left hand over her left ear to shield out other noises. “Could you speak a little louder? I can barely hear you,” she said.

“I was saying that you mentioned the religious implications of your HLA findings.”

“Yes?”

“I believe you are on the verge of making a discovery of biblical proportions,” Abdullah continued.

“How do you mean?”

“I know that you were thinking of the number 666, the number that stands for the beast, the mark of the devil, and you were wondering how it may relate to your research,” the professor said.

“As a matter of fact, yes I am,” responded Dr. Dickerson, curious as to how this man could deduce what she had been thinking that quickly.

“First of all,” the professor said, “instead of the large letter B, use the small letter b, and then you should search any library of ancient Middle Eastern philology and the development of minuscule letter styles. You will be surprised to know that in many of them, but particularly in one, the letter b and the figure 6 often are … are … What am I thinking?” pondered the professor in the middle of his explanation.

“Interchangeable.”

“Yes, interrelated, thank you.”

“When you do,” the professor said, “you will then understand that you may have discovered the location of the marker 666, the sign of the devil.”

That was exactly what Dr. Dickerson had hoped for—a possible link between her scientific research and the Book of Revelation.

There may indeed be a connection between the two after all, she thought. If so, let the religious debate begin.

The phone rang again.

This time, the call was from PKS Productions, which was owned by the famous talk show host from Chicago, to request a solo interview with her to discuss further what she meant by the religious implications of her HLA research. She promised to give it a serious thought before accepting. She then promptly notified Dr. Abramhoff, who encouraged her to go ahead.

“The more outlets, the better,” Abramhoff pointed out.

The caller, however, did promise that Ms. Hanson herself would call soon to set up a mutually acceptable time and date for an interview if a live appearance on her show was impractical.

 

3

O
AK
R
IDGE
C
OUNTRY
C
LUB,
in Schererville, Indiana, had earned its reputation as one of the best places to live. An exclusive gated community for the upper-class society of northwest Indiana, it had its own clubhouse. In the middle of its two-thousand-plus acres, which sprawled over two towns, was a manicured, eighteen-hole, grade-A golf course that punctuated the entire estate.

In northwest Indiana, and in sections of the south and southeastern parts of Chicago, the golf course had always been home to the most avid golfers. Many specialty doctors, specialized dentists, affluent lawyers, bankers, and millionaire business owners resided in the estate part of the community.

At 487 Cricket Court, in a picturesque mansion, about six homes removed from the clubhouse and close to the third tee golf area, Dr. Lee Kwon Nsi was busy entertaining guests. Congressman James Packard, the special guest of honor, was being showered with praises and donations from the many friends of Dr. Nsi.

Dr. Lee Kwon Nsi, at age fifty-two, had made a name for himself. A handsome, medium-built, self-made millionaire, he emigrated from South Korea to the United States with his older brother at age ten.

He had been the most influential cardio-thoracic surgeon among the six area hospitals scattered throughout northwest Indiana. His rise to fame was very rocky, and sometimes even unpleasant, something Dr. Nsi had repeatedly refused to discuss. Dr. Nsi also had a way with women.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” shouted Dr. Nsi to the noisy crowd in the huge family room, which was designed like a self-contained stage. “Ladies and gentleman, please,” shouted Dr. Nsi a second time as the noise began to die down. “Today, I am honored to introduce to you my very good friend, the honorable Congressman James Packard.”

A round of very protracted yet polite applause followed.

“Congressman Packard has done so much for northwest Indiana,” continued Dr. Nsi after the applause. “He has championed millions of federal dollars for infrastructure developments in northwest Indiana, and we are greatly indebted to him.”

Another round of applause initiated by Dr. Nsi followed.

“For that, we are sponsoring a drive to rename Calumet Avenue to Packard Boulevard, in honor of our great congressman, and also in appreciation of the leadership he has shown in the expansion and extension of Calumet Avenue.”

Another round of applause followed.

“The congressman's job is not yet finished. Today, he is here in person to tell you about his next major project for our area. Of course, gentlemen, he is going to need your strong support in this endeavor. So, without further ado, I present to you, Congressman Packard.”

A thunderous applause followed this time, lasting about sixty seconds. Even Congressman Packard was taken aback slightly.

“I want to personally thank Dr. Nsi, our premier cardio-thoracic surgeon, his wife, Lynn, and their two children, all here tonight for this wonderful occasion.” Congressman Packard began his prepared message after pulling out a piece of paper from his coat jacket.

As the congressman was delivering his speech, Dr. Nsi's eyes roved around the room and noticed Dr. Marion Moheri brooding over a glass of Heineken. He made his way toward the beautifully decorated bar and tapped Dr. Moheri on the shoulder.

“Hello, Doc,” responded a startled Moheri.

“Mario!” Dr. Nsi, who preferred to call him Mario, shouted.

“Come with me to the deck,” Nsi beckoned, as he motioned Dr. Moheri toward the French doors.

Outside, two golfers were still at the third teeing ground attempting to tee off on this chilly April evening.

“I didn't think you were gonna make it,” said Dr. Nsi, “but I'm delighted you did.”

“It was hard, but I had to come to give you the good news,” Moheri responded.

Moheri and Nsi had become friends while golfing at the country club, and over the years had begun to share common interests, especially Moheri's ambitious chemical researches.

Nsi, a gifted golfer, but labeled as suave and a womanizer, could engage anyone in any conversation and within minutes dominate the discussion.

“I have the final concentration now, and I seriously believe that in an adequate quantity of … what I call M&M juices, there may be a total obliteration of any human organs,” informed Moheri, his head bouncing up and down as his glasses hung on the bridge of his nose.

“You mean…?” responded a wide-eyed Nsi.