Shadow of Eden (36 page)

Chapter 76

P
iers Morgan leaned across his desk, facing the camera, and spoke as soon as the red light came on. “We’re back and if you’ve been watching, you know we’ve been speaking with Vicktor Morloch, the enormously successful Chairman and CEO of Trident Pharmaceuticals, makers of Eden, the miraculous weight reduction drug, and he’s on the cover of People Magazine, which named him among the world’s richest bachelors.”

Piers straightened up and looked at Morloch sitting across his desk as a different camera light came on. “Tell me Vicktor, you’ve sold the most successful drug in history—an incredible story—but what’s your encore?”

Morloch was dressed in a navy suit with an open necked white shirt. “We have a new medicine called Paradise, which all our research says works just as well as Eden, and—” He held up a finger to help drive home his point, “—is better absorbed with less nose irritation. We look forward to hearing from the FDA soon, so that we can make Paradise available.”

Piers laughed. “Paradise. Great name. I hope the FDA agrees with you, which is a segue to our next guest. She’s Donna Windsong, president of the advocacy group, Families Against Drugging America. Donna’s joining us from Tallahassee, Florida. How are you, Donna?”

Donna’s face appeared on a television monitor positioned where Morloch could easily see it. Donna was attractive in an earth-mother kind of way, wearing a simple white dress with a navy jacket. “I’m great, Piers,” she smiled. “Thank you for having me on your show.”

“Donna, you have a bone to pick about prescription drugs. Here’s your chance to express some of your concerns to one of the most visible representatives in the industry.”

“I do, Piers, several bones.” Windsong’s voice took on the cadence of reciting previously memorized information. “My organization is worried about the insidious and pervasive infiltration into society of a pill mentality—that all your problems can be solved by a pill. This expectation has been fed and exploited by the powerful and rich pharmaceutical companies who make billions off sick and helpless people. As a result, prescription drugs are unnecessarily poisoning the people of America. Just look at the statistics, Piers, thousands of deaths a year are caused by drugs, either overdosing or drug interactions. Deaths due to prescription drugs are higher in Florida than cocaine and heroin combined. Piers, what’s worse is the systematic drugging of our school-age children with ADHD drugs, weight loss drugs, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety drugs, and other mind-altering drugs. And—”

“Vicktor,” Piers interrupted, “Donna says you make too much money and that there are too many drugs. What do you say?”

Morloch laughed pleasantly. “Well, Piers, I’m a bit unprepared for this, but I’ll take a stab at her comments. First, Ms. Windsong, I absolutely agree with you that the physician should carefully consider every prescription before it is written. The patient needs education on the proper use and potential problems of the drug before taking it. Strict safeguards are needed, and are in place, to ensure that only safe and well tolerated drugs ever make it to market—”

“But,” Windsong said, “don’t you agree that drugs are prescribed way too much in this country?”

Morloch forced another smile as he looked at a very pleased Piers Morgan. “I am familiar with the articles, but I’m not a doctor and I cannot pass judgment on each conversation a doctor has with his or her patient, nor his or her individual judgment to prescribe a medication.”

“But the drug companies are at fault for making all the drugs poisoning us.”

“How are they at fault?” Piers asked.

“Because they flood the market with drugs like Eden and Viagra and Prozac that we don’t need. I’m fine with blood pressure medications and antibiotics—at least some of them—but there are several hundred drugs that we simply don’t need. And they’re not safe.”

Piers turned to Morloch. “Vicktor? She says your drug isn’t needed and that it’s not safe.”

“Piers, Ms. Windsong is making the mistake of confusing the issue of availability with improper use. I don’t think Ms. Windsong would advocate giving up swimming pools, yet hundreds of kids die each year in pool accidents.”

“Donna?” Piers cut Morloch off.

“Well, I would have to look at the statistics . . .”

“Ms. Windsong,” Morloch looked at her image on the monitor and wondered if she could see him as well. “I operate in a tightly regulated industry with the FDA looking over my shoulder at every juncture of a drug’s development. I make a highly effective, and I might add, an extremely safe drug, and it is perfectly legal. If the FDA determines a drug is not safe, then it never gets on the market. I think you can be assured that the drugs in this country are the safest in the world.”

“And you make billions of dollars from your marketing monopoly.” Ms. Windsong interrupted.

“Since my picture and income are on the cover of People magazine,” Morloch chuckled, “you know how much I am worth. What you don’t know is the hundreds of compounds, very promising compounds, that don’t make it, with billions spent on their research and development. If you were to cut the profit out of our industry, we wouldn’t have the money to research and develop innovative new drugs, like Eden, that we all depend on.”

“That bastard knew what he was doing bringing that new-age cunt on the show with me,” Morloch snarled into his cell phone. He strode out of the CNN building and climbed into his limousine.

“I think you handled her beautifully,” Oscar Perera said on the other end of the call. “You looked calm and poised as you countered her point for point.”

“Yeah, but she wins points as a nobody just being on the show with me. Any reaction? Any news on this?”

“None on CNN. I’ve been watching. I’ll give our PR guys a call and see if they have monitored anything, but I don’t think there’s any significant downside. She came off as shrill. You know, a fringe type.”

A click in his ear told him he had another call. “Okay, Oscar. Later.” He looked at the caller ID display. The call was from Mallis and Associates with a voice mail message. He punched the green button and heard the familiar scrambler clicks before a pleasant female computer voice announcement. ‘This is a priority ELLIOTT message from Mallis and Associates . . . monitored person was . . . Jacob Castell.’

Morloch listened to the recorded conversation between Jacob Castell and Dr. James.

Chapter 77

“S
ir, this just in. The Pentagon wanted you to see it right away.” The lieutenant in his starched dress blues handed the Secretary of Defense a sealed manila envelope marked ‘Priority’ and ‘Eyes Only.’ The White House usher, who had located a white-tuxedoed Mark Painter on the ballroom floor and guided him to the side room, melted away.

“This better be good,” Painter grumbled as he tore open the seal and pulled out the contents of the envelope; he had left his wife standing on the dance floor to see this message. The evening’s event was a full-dress occasion in honor of Taiwan’s President. Painter’s wife detested formal affairs and hated being left alone during them even more. He would do penance for this diversion.

Scanning the document, he frowned and then sat down in a heavy leather chair to read the contents more carefully. It was a briefing from General Samuel Taylor—on China.

According to the document, China had officially lowered their state of alert from their DEFCON equivalent 3 to a more relaxed level 4. However, their level of military activity had markedly increased. Painter re-read the document carefully, feeling that he had missed a point somewhere. The analyst who wrote the briefing had not drawn any conclusions about China’s activities, only that they were worrisome given the context of the Taiwanese president’s visit.

A frustrated Secretary of Defense stared at the pages, wondering what exactly he was missing. Usually the pattern of activity gave U.S. analysts an idea about the objective, but not this time. Instead, it described the observed military activity: troop movements without direction; redeployment of naval vessels to differing locations, but without any concentration; and supply trucks entering and leaving military bases above their usual numbers.

Painter frowned; there was something big afoot, but what was not clear. This level of military activity signaled an operation of considerable size, either large-scale war games or something more serious.

But why the DEFCON relaxation claim? It was counter to the military activity, which would signal an escalation of DEFCON in other circumstances. Maybe to flag the U.S. that it was all internal. Well, that made some sense in light of the Falun massacre. Maybe they were still stifling internal dissent.

He needed to talk to Bingham. He was here at the ball, too, unless he had left already. And Martha was still waiting for him.
Damn.
He hesitated, trying to decide who he should see first.

Chapter 78

M
allis sat cross-legged in an easy chair, his notebook computer sitting on his lap. He typed in eleven numbers in four groups, separated by three periods: an Internet address known to a very restricted number of authorized individuals. He pressed ‘Enter’ and after a moment he was greeted with a screen that said, ‘Welcome to Verifone. Enter username and password.’

Verifone’s card authorization was the lucrative service that authorized Visa, MasterCard, and American Express card purchases all over the world. Their databases were also a gold mine to law enforcement. Using special links, authorized law enforcement individuals could search the databases to track any card number they wanted. All that was necessary was a special software code and a unique hardwired-circuit plugged into the USB port, a type of electronic key identifying the request as coming from an authorized source. Mallis had both.

He tapped in Dr. James’s business Visa card number and the expiration date. In a moment he saw a complete list of all transactions for the past thirty days. Mallis studied the list, and then frowned. There was nothing from the last two days: no hotels, no gas, and no restaurants or grocery stores.

A buzzing from the desk across the room distracted him. He looked up to see that it was his android phone in vibrate mode, signaling the arrival of a text message. He ignored it and turned back to the computer.

Mallis typed in another number, this one Dr. James’s gold Amex card. The results flashed down his screen. Mallis scowled again—nothing from the last two days. No clothes purchases, no airplane tickets, no apartment rental.

He typed in the US Air Visa card that James held jointly with his wife.

Bingo.
Mallis sat back in satisfaction. He found two airline tickets to Portland Oregon. But he scowled in thought. Why two? His son would have to have a seat, too. There was only one explanation. James had stayed behind and sent his wife and son to Oregon.

He clicked on the USB thumb drive that Doug had made of James’s home computer files. He opened the contact database and clicked the find key. He typed in Oregon and hit enter. Three names popped up. He looked at each one in turn before he smiled. Jack and Joan Pritchard. It must be Steve’s wife’s—what was her name, Anne? It must be her parents’ house. They lived in Eugene, Oregon, on 345 Douglas Fir Road. Good, thought Mallis. He cut and pasted the information into his Word file on James. Their phone number would be monitored as well.