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Authors: Brian Andrews

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She paused for moment to let the power of her words sink in before continuing.

“What is so frightening about a biological weapon is not that it is made from anthrax bacteria per se, but rather that it is made from über-strains of anthrax refined in a laboratory to be a hundred times more virulent than any naturally occurring strain. Once the process is complete, these über-strains are then cultivated into a stockpile, and paired with an optimized delivery method—like aerosolization—to achieve weaponized status. All together, the process of weaponization ensures that anyone who is exposed to the pathogen becomes mortally infected. You can see the problem here—we've taken natural selection and traded in its walking shoes for a Ferrari. When pathogens are released in such a manner, a person's immune system is quickly and completely overwhelmed. By the time the body has recognized something is wrong, it's already too late; the disease has proliferated inside the body to a population too immense for the immune system to cope with.

“For the past ten years, Vyrogen and its subsidiaries have been working on developing vaccines and treatments for the diseases that can be used to create biological weapons. We are also searching for treatments for other global killers such as malaria, AIDS, ALS, etcetera. You name it, we want to find a way to treat it.”

Meredith paused and then changed the slide to a picture of Will Foster. “This man's name is William Foster. A little over forty-eight hours ago, he managed to steal one of the most important products in Vyrogen's drug pipeline—a breakthrough product so earth-shattering that we believe it will change the way medicine approaches disease treatment forever.”

“When you say product, are you referring to a therapeutic or a vaccine?” Dr. VanCleave asked.

Meredith's nose crinkled with displeasure, as if someone had just squirted pickle juice in her mouth.

“I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say. The details of this product are highly confidential. We do not feel that divulging specific details of our product is necessary for you to successfully complete your task. The objective of this case is to find Will Foster and retrieve the Vyrogen property he has stolen before it falls into the hands of unscrupulous entities who will profit at our great expense.”

Meredith turned back to face the group at large. “To put it bluntly, Vyrogen is out of our league here. We are scientists, trained to unravel the mysteries of the human body; we are not equipped to deal with industrial espionage.”

“Have you consulted with the FBI?” Kalen asked.

“Federal law enforcement participation in this exercise would be problematic for several reasons. Number one, discretion is paramount. The last thing I need is a bunch of bureaucrats leaking the story to the media creating bad press for the company. Number two, time is of the essence. We believe Foster will attempt to turn over the formula to a buyer within the next twenty-four hours. The FBI can't tie its shoes in twenty-four hours. And finally, number three, this entire exercise requires a sophisticated level of damage control. Last time I checked, that was not part of the Bureau's mission statement.”

“Fine. Point taken,” Kalen replied. “Do you think that Foster was contracted by one of your competitors specifically to steal this breakthrough product?”

“We don't know, but we suspect he has the backing of a highly capable financier—either an entity wanting to obtain our product or an intermediary who will sell it to the highest bidder.”

Meredith suddenly felt uneasy. She scanned the faces at the table, locking eyes with Albane. Albane's blank expressionless stare was unnerving. Invasive. She was trying to catch a glimpse inside; Meredith would not permit that to happen. She could already tell that this woman was going to be a problem.

“Meredith, what other information can you share with the team about Foster, the events leading up to the theft, and his possible motives and whereabouts?” asked Nicolora.

“Mr. Foster came to us through one of our subsidiary companies. We believe this was intentional. Think of Foster as a human Trojan Horse. He followed the script right out of Homer's
Iliad
and we never saw it coming.”

“I'm not sure I follow you,” VanCleave said.

“I'm sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. Five months ago, Foster signed up as a test subject for our fast-track H1N1—a.k.a swine flu—vaccine trial. Vyrogen was contracted by the U.S. government to fast-track a vaccine for a new H1N1 variant that has been cropping up in the Baltic countries and is associated with severe respiratory symptoms. The normal vaccine development timeline needed to be dramatically reduced. We started our first round of clinical trials about six months ago at one of our subsidiary companies, Leighton-Harris Pharmaceuticals. Foster applied to be a compensated test subject in the Leighton-Harris H1N1 attenuated live virus vaccine trial. This was his first step in infiltrating our organization.

During the trial, we monitored the test subjects' general health and immunological response to the vaccine itself. To our surprise, Foster became ill during the trial period. Testing revealed that he was infected with a mutated strain of H1N1—but a different strain from the one we were targeting with the vaccine. This warranted placing him in quarantine and contacting the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.”

AJ raised his hand, like a schoolboy, turned red and quickly lowered it. Meredith smiled and gestured for him to speak.

“It seems highly improbable to contract a mutated strain from a vaccine. Are you suggesting this was the result of an antigenic shift?”

“An excellent question. Your thinking is in line with our own at the time. Mr. Foster's case took the staff by surprise, because an antigenic shift in an attenuated virus is highly improbable. However, improbable and impossible are not the same thing, and since we weren't sure what we were dealing with, we placed Foster in quarantine and contacted the CDC. As a precaution, of course. We took additional blood samples from Foster to try to ascertain exactly what was happening. It was upon further investigation that we became convinced that the mutant strain of H1N1 that Foster was infected with originated outside of the Leighton-Harris vaccine trial.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Morley,” Albane interrupted, “but when you began this briefing you named William Foster, in no uncertain terms, as the primary suspect in a case of industrial espionage against Vyrogen. You went on to say—your words now—'think of William Foster as a human Trojan Horse.' It sounds to me that you are suggesting Foster purposely infected himself with a mutated strain of H1N1 so he could infiltrate Vyrogen and steal your research? Why would a man subject himself to such risk?”

Meredith crossed her arms and tucked both her hands under her armpits. “If you would permit me to finish, you can draw your own conclusion.” She then unfolded her arms and smiled.

Albane stared at Meredith, but offered no rebuttal.

“As I was saying, we contacted the CDC and they sent a top director-level scientist in infectious diseases, Dr. Xavier Pope, to New Jersey to assist with the case. By the time Pope arrived, Foster's condition had deteriorated. As the CDC is one of our key government clients, Pope had knowledge of a promising and experimental immune-boosting product in our pipeline. He asked me if Foster was a candidate for treatment with this experimental product. At that time, the product had only been tested on non-human primates, so Pope's request caught us off guard. Besides ethical concerns, we faced legal complications. Ultimately, Foster was given the choice. He elected to undergo the experimental treatment. He was transferred to our Chiarek Norse research hospital in Prague to undergo the treatment regime. Unfortunately, Foster developed pneumonia as a complication of his H1N1 infection before we could start the trial. Foster's condition deteriorated so quickly, the decision was made to place him on a ventilator and into a medically induced coma. Obviously, this prompted new concerns about administering an experimental treatment while he was in a drug-induced coma. As we argued internally about what to do, Foster's condition continued to worsen. When all hope was lost for his recovery via conventional means, I made the decision to start the trial. It was a clinical trial of one that ended with resounding success. Our experimental product eradicated both the pneumonia and mutated H1N1 virus from his system. For the past six weeks, he's been recovering and gaining his strength back. We were just about to clear him for discharge when he made his move. He broke into our main storage bank, stole a sample of the product, and then destroyed all of our remaining inventory. Then poof! He vanished into the night.” Meredith shook her head, defeated.

“I'm still not clear on how Foster became infected with a mutated H1N1 virus if not from your vaccine trial. Where would he gain access to such a virus?” Albane asked.

“I've told you everything we know. Many questions remain unanswered. Which is why we have come to your organization for help, Ms. Mesnil.” Meredith frowned. “Oh, and there is one more thing you should know. There is a possibility that Foster has in his possession a glass vial containing a particularly virulent strain of bubonic plague bacterium—also stolen from our Chiarek Norse facility. If he did steal a plague sample, then Mr. Foster is a deadly liability.”

“Excuse me! You're saying Foster is on the loose, wandering around a city of nearly two million people in the middle of Europe, with a biological weapon in his possession?” VanCleave exclaimed, his voice pitched with agitation.

Meredith nodded. “That's the worst case scenario, yes. At this time, we are not able to account for all numbered
Yersinia pestis
samples in our inventory.”

“Why would Foster do something so dangerous?” AJ asked.

“I think his message is pretty clear . . . pursue me at your own peril,” Nicolora said.

AJ looked at Albane. She gave him a subtle nod of understanding, but the blank expression on her face did not change. She returned her gaze to Meredith. AJ sensed a palpable tension between the two women.

“Ms. Morley, do you have any idea where Foster is now, or an educated guess about where he might try to go?” Albane inquired.

“He was last spotted in an Internet café in downtown Prague. I had some of our people out scouring the city for him. He got spooked and managed to slip away. I notified the Czech Government that he is on the loose and that he possesses a biohazard. Hopefully by now, they have circulated his picture among law enforcement personnel and the border patrol,” Meredith said. “As for his rendezvous location with the buyer, I haven't a clue. After he turns over our formula, I imagine he'll go into hiding a very rich man, and we'll never see or hear from William Foster again.”

The room was silent. Meredith looked around the table, beckoning more questions and trading glances with everyone, everyone except Albane.

AJ raised his hand.

“Mr. Archer.”

“Can you tell us anything more about the experimental product that Foster was treated with? What makes it so unique that he would gamble with his own life to steal it?”

“As I said before, the product is highly confidential. I'm not at liberty to disclose anything more than what I've told you already. Instead, I'll leave you with this question to ponder: If Foster knew the product would save him, was he really gambling with his life? By making himself appear the victim, one could argue that Foster is the world's most convincing and sympathetic thief.”

“Any other questions for Ms. Morley?” Nicolora said, but his intonation signaled the contrary. The Q&A session was officially over.

After ten seconds of silence Meredith added, “I cannot emphasize enough how dire this situation is. Foster must be found. We desperately need your help. My entire staff will be at your disposal twenty-four hours a day, for as long as you need us. Tell me what you need, and I'll get it for you. Good luck, and God help us.”

Nicolora stood up, and on this cue, so did all the other members of The Tank. “Thank you, everyone. That will be all.” He turned to Albane. “Albane, you're team leader for this assignment. The clock starts now. I want Foster located within twenty-four hours.”

Albane nodded and stared with unblinking eyes as he escorted Meredith out of the Founders' Forum. She checked her watch. “All right team, you know the drill. Pack quickly. I want to be airborne and en route to Prague in ninety minutes.” Then, with narrowed eyes she added. “We have a man on the loose carrying around in his pocket the same disease that wiped out over a third of the population of Europe in the Middle Ages.”

AJ turned and looked at the picture of Will Foster still glowing on the screen; he smirked. He was certain that his experience over the past day was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to The Tank's capabilities. Whoever Foster really was, one thing was certain . . . he didn't stand a chance.

Chapter Twelve

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