After the Fall (40 page)

His worst worry: her trust and her confidence in him. How badly had it been eroded by Nelson's influence? As soon as the Immunone approval was final, he'd take her to a justice of the peace, finalize their marriage. Then to a lawyer for power of attorney. After that, he had in mind a remote campsite in the West Virginia mountains. Hang out there until the coast was clear, then off to the island paradise of Addie's choice.

Laura Nelson was a loose end. He'd vowed to eliminate her and he would fulfill his vow. She'd screwed him at the FDA; she'd contaminated Addie, posing as her soul mate. Nobody screws over Jake Harter. Nobody. Jake's mind flew back to the list of those he'd killed and the reasons why. He'd been justified. Yes, he was an assassin, but a discriminating one.

Nelson would be a participant at today's press conference. And Addie would be there too. Replica would require her to be there. When he left the press conference, Addie would leave with him. But what if she didn't go willingly? What if he had to subdue her? She could be headstrong. She had run from him Wednesday night. She hadn't shown up at the courthouse yesterday. She seemed to be under the sway of Laura Nelson. His first impulse had been to punish Addie, but he knew he wouldn't. He remembered the torment he'd felt when Addie's Arab pal slapped her that night. No, he, Jake Harter, would not strike a woman.

He'd decided to bring a syringe of ketamine, a sedative he'd once evaluated for its weird psychological side effects, but only as a last resort to put her out for as long as it took to take control.

Once he had Addie secure, he'd go after Nelson. Should be easy. The bitch was now a part of the Keystone limo convoy.
She'd be traveling in style to the private terminal at National, boarding the Gulfstream. He'd done his homework, scouted out positions, found the perfect ambush spot on a small knoll with a direct visual to the tarmac. Armed with his prized Bushmaster, long-range and fitted with a scope, and his superior marksmanship, he'd pick off the lady doctor. Quick and easy. With his escape route precisely mapped out, he'd be out and away and untouchable.

Jake noted the clock on the dash. Eight thirty. Perfect. Enough time to clean up, get to the press conference by the scheduled ten o'clock start. Immunone was big news. There'd be a crowd, science reporters and business reporters. But after twenty-five years, he knew the FDA Parklawn property: where to park, where to stand, where to disappear. The three Cs would be working for him: crowd, chaos, crime. Jake had to chuckle at his clever new slogan. The Three Cs.

F
RIDAY
, M
ARCH
6

Laura had the best sleep she'd had in weeks, not having woken until her alarm sounded. Her hand hurt less. Her mind had slowed down. She felt profound relief after the conversation with Lonnie Greenwood. Last thing before falling asleep, she'd called Tim. She now knew she needed to tell him what had happened in that desolate parking lot in Detroit twenty-five years ago. He deserved to know. She hoped he'd still love and respect her. But first, she needed to tell her children about David Monroe and Patrick's paternity. For as long as she'd known Tim, she'd been trapped in a web of interlocking secrets. Before he married her, he had a right to know what she'd kept hidden for all those years.

Laura called Tim from the phone in the hotel bedroom at seven o'clock. No answer. He'd be scrubbed at CHOP by now, reviewing the operative procedure with his surgical team. He was the senior pediatric cardiac surgeon, a source of pride for him, as it will be for her as his wife. Fourteen years ago, Tim had operated on Patrick, when Laura's youngest child had been nine years old, with a cardiac tumor. A benign tumor; to this day, Laura still felt the flush of relief on hearing the miraculous word
benign
.

And today, Tim would save the life of another young child. As much as she'd like him with her in Rockville to share her moment in the spotlight, he was the real hero back
home in Philadelphia.
And yes
, Laura thought with a smile,
Philadelphia was now her home
.

Laura had ordered room-service breakfast for her and Addie to be delivered at seven forty-five. Before Laura headed for the shower, she peeked into the parlor where Addie slept on the ample sofa.

“Seven o'clock,” she called out, even though Addie was already up, reviewing her notes at the small table. “I'm going to shower.”

“Okay, Laura,” Addie said. “I figured I'd better at least read through what I'm supposed to say.”

That's the least of your problems
, Laura thought. To Addie she said, “You'll be stellar.”

“I can't tell you how much better I feel after talking to your son Mike last night, and signing the papers that he faxed. After the press conference, I feel comfortable leaving, knowing my Immunone money will be secure.”

Laura worried about Addie leaving the United States to return to terrorist-oriented Iraq. But had her own father been ill, she knew she'd risk considerable danger to go to him. Still, Addie's safety concerned her. Was there anything more she could do for this charming, bright young woman?

By the time Laura appeared, showered and dressed in a trim turquoise suit, breakfast was being set up in the parlor. Addie remained in the bathroom until the bellman left, then emerged, looking fantastic in yesterday's clothes, now laundered and pressed.

Together, in near silence, the two women sipped coffee or tea, nibbled croissants, and drank orange juice, as each reviewed her own press conference prep notes one last time.

F
RIDAY
, M
ARCH
6

Tim's flight landed on time at Washington National Airport, leaving him a scant hour to get to Rockville for the Immunone press event. He'd known Laura wanted him there—but she'd never ask him to postpone a critical surgical procedure on a child. He grinned at the thought of surprising her.

He'd arrived at CHOP to find his small patient had developed an ear infection. Not a big deal in a kid—except for a kid facing surgery. A bacterial infection in a patient posed an unacceptable surgical risk. Treat for twenty-four hours with intravenous antibiotics, Tim's team of doctors agreed. Then reassess the risk—other complications that can arise from a bacterial infection could mean serious cardiac risk—and tomorrow morning, a difficult decision. But for now, Tim was free to catch the eight o'clock flight out of Philly to DC.

After the excitement of the press conference, Tim knew, Laura's attention quickly would shift to the revelation to her kids planned for tonight. She'd obsess, he feared, consider each kid, try to predict each reaction, try to predict her reaction to their reactions. But obsessing only would confuse matters. She must simply speak her heart. Her children loved and respected her, Tim judged. They'd be shocked, yes—but vindictive? Not their style.

But what if he misjudged them, and they deeply hurt her?
As much as he wanted to protect Laura, he felt helpless. After her press conference, he'd be there with her, try his best to keep her distracted. For Laura, it was, and always had been, about her devotion to family. Realistically, he still felt like the outsider with his nose pressed to the glass, wanting Laura's love, and coveting the privilege of joining the family. But tonight, would a twenty-year-old secret be the death of the close-knit Nelson family unit? Finally, he had to admit, he couldn't predict.

F
RIDAY
, M
ARCH
6

Riding with Laura in the Keystone Pharma limo to the press conference site, the FDA Parklawn Building, Addie steeled herself for a conversation with Priscilla Fabre. Once they arrived, she searched for Priscilla among the group of milling employees. The tall woman was easy to spot, and to Addie's great relief, Priscilla seemed genuinely glad to see her. Didn't even mention that she'd disappeared from work yesterday, and never called. Replica's press materials highlighted her appearance. Had she not shown up, they'd have been embarrassed. Or, maybe, a smart lawyer would have made her presence a condition of giving her the money. Didn't matter. She was here.

“Priscilla,” Addie had to take a breath, “I must leave for home tonight. Since I am technically an employee as of the date when Immunone was approved, I want to make sure the money set aside, as per my contract, will come to me.”

“I know how worried you are about your father, and I'm so grateful the timing worked out for you. I've been in touch with legal. I've confirmed that the funds due you will be distributed shortly. But if you're going to be out of town, you should give us instructions. Would you prefer a direct deposit, or to have the money wired? It's a very large amount.”

So, Replica was not going to give her a hard time
. Addie could almost relax. After talking to Laura's son, Mike, into the late hours
last night, she knew her rights, but, nevertheless, it was gratifying to know a lawsuit wouldn't be necessary. An American court would always favor a big company over an individual. Last night, she had signed her power of attorney relative to all financial affairs involving US dollars to Michael Nelson. He was a lawyer with a big firm, and she had Laura's assurance she could be confident her contract would be honored. Michael had confirmed the $7.5 million total would be diminished by whatever taxes were due, but no matter how Addie looked at it, she was a wealthy woman. Would she ever come to need or appreciate that wealth? She didn't know.

Addie had always assumed Dru would manage her finances, and then Jake after they were married, but now she was on her own, her financial life delegated to Laura's son. The relevant documents all had been faxed or e-mailed back and forth through the hotel's twenty-four-hour business center. Addie reached into her purse and removed an envelope.

“Mr. Nelson has prepared my resignation letter.” She handed the envelope to Priscilla: “It's effective tomorrow.”

Priscilla accepted the envelope. “We'll miss you,” she said, stepping up to hug Addie. Then Priscilla turned to the podium. “Time to shine…”

When it was her turn, Addie went to the podium, adjusted the microphone, and spoke directly into it. She'd memorized the script Replica had given her. As she paused at appropriate intervals, she glanced around the crowd. She'd never imagined so many cameras and video recorders. As she concluded her remarks, she stepped back as planned. Laura, representing Keystone Pharma, and the FDA commissioner would follow her. Questions and answers would come at the end.

To save her family, Addie now knew she would return to Baghdad to take her father's place. Knowing her mother's wishes would be fulfilled, could she still get on the plane? She'd have to marry Gabir Rahman. But in her new scientific role, Addie would do all she dared to sabotage bioweapons of mass destruction, to
limit the impact of terrorism. Her father was a kind and gentle man. Could he covertly have had the same intentions? She'd never even considered that possibility. Maybe taking his place could extend that legacy—

Addie's thoughts were interrupted by a question addressed to her. She hadn't even registered what Laura and the FDA had said. It must be time for the Q&A. And the first question had been directed at her. The FDA staffer coordinating the conference asked the reporter to repeat the question.

“Dr. Abdul, when you first discovered the Immunone chemical,” a reporter asked, “did you know how important it would be in transplant rejection?”

One of the anticipated questions on her list from Replica. The answer: “No, but she's so gratified,” etcetera.

The Q&A continued with only one further question directed to Addie. “What new medications is Replica working on?” Addie had the easy answer: “Antibiotics for resistant bacteria, and growth factors for hematopoietic bone marrow cells—to treat leukemia.”

While the press packed up their equipment, Addie and Laura stood talking to the FDA staff. As long as she stayed in a cluster of people, Addie felt safe. So far, she'd not seen a sign of Jake, but she kept scanning the periphery. Maybe she'd get out of the building without him finding her. As the crowd dwindled, the Keystone Pharma attendees, including their CEO, Paul Parnell, gathered in a circle around Laura. Addie felt marginalized and vulnerable. Time for her to thank Laura and say good-bye.

Addie planned to take a cab to Washington National. She had tickets to London Heathrow, booked under her own name. Dru had told her that after the United Nations had imposed restrictions on Iraq following the Gulf War, the United States and the United Kingdom established a no-fly zone for the country. Dru's solution: fly Royal Jordanian Airlines from London to Amman, Jordan, and then on to Baghdad. That's how he'd done
it. He warned her not to use her own name when traveling to Jordan or Iraq. If she did, she might not get back into the US. She had no alternative now, other than to buy her own ticket revealing her true identity. But did that still matter?

Of course, Addie dreamed the United States and Iraq would one day become allies, and their citizens would travel freely between countries. Only a dream, but if her dream came true, she would be a very rich woman. Michael Nelson had explained how her money would grow in value.

Inching closer to Laura to say good-bye, Addie remembered the DIA agents saying they still might need to talk to her. Were they following her, she wondered? Agent Sharkey had seen her airline ticket to London. Would they show up at the airport? Had they checked her apartment? Found Dru? She could not answer these questions. She'd follow her plan; go to the airport.

Laura turned to hug Addie when she approached. “We're all headed for the airport, Addie. How about you? What did you decide?”

“I have a flight to London, early evening,” she said. “Laura, I can't thank you enough—”