kiDNApped (A Tara Shores Thriller) (34 page)

“Kristen—” Dave started, but he didn’t know what to say. Just a bad feeling. “You don't have to go in, you know.”

She gripped his hand tight. Lowered her voice to a near whisper. “I have to go in.”

She stopped and grabbed his arm. Looked up at his face, his eyes unreadable behind his dark glasses. “You don’t have to.”

And she kissed him. Closed her eyes behind her glasses and kissed him passionately on the lips. He kissed her back, put an arm around her and they locked in embrace for a long moment.

“I’ll go with you,” he said afterwards.

Hand in hand they took the last few steps to the same jagged hole in the wreck Kristen’s father had entered only hours earlier.

They watched angled rays of sunshine stab through the dark interior of the ruined hulk. Water made gentle gurgling sounds as it lapped against the unmoving hull. By the time their vision adapted to the dim light and they could make out the layout of the long abandoned boat, Tara emerged from deep within the wreck.

She was holding up a test tube.

“We found one of those too!” Kristen said.

“Looks identical,” Dave commented. “What is up with those?” he wondered aloud.

“I don’t know, but they contain a clear liquid,” Tara said. “Let’s check the rest of the ship.”

They made their way forward, seeing nothing of obvious interest until they reached the final partition leading to the dry section of the ship at the steepest incline, where snarls of ravaged fiberglass emerged in the dusky light. Something gleamed from the floor of the wreck. Tara was closest to it and picked it up first.

She held up a pair of scissors. She snapped their blades together, the sound slicing through the quiet of the unnatural shelter.

“Let me see,” Kristen said, stepping closer. “No rust or corrosion whatsoever,” she observed. “Not even the thinnest layer of marine growth.”

“They haven’t been here long,” Dave said, grasping her meaning.

“An old shipwreck off Lahaina filed with test tubes and scissors. Strange,” Dave said.

“Let’s get back to the Zodiac,” Tara said.

Tara stuck the scissors in her waistband and climbed up to the ship’s bow, toward the hole in the ceiling.

“I’ll go out this way in case there’s anything else up here. You two go back out the way we came.”

Kristen and Dave agreed and walked back through the wreck. They could hear Tara scrambling up through the bow behind them.

Once outside again, Kristen couldn’t help but check the Zodiac. It bobbed gently nearby, Lance’s feet sticking out over a pontoon.

Tara was dropping out of the ship onto the reef. Then she was trotting toward them, a dripping wet pistol dangling from one hand.

…GATG
62
GAGT…

The
Nahoa
motored across an empty stretch of whitecapped ocean. A heated conversation in Mandarin Chinese unfolded on the stern deck platform as the lead scientist conferred with another kidnapper. A white-sheeted bundle lay wrapped and unmoving at their feet.

“Please. I beg of you. Allow me to return Ming’s body to his hometown in China for a respectful burial in the countryside.”

The lead gave an emphatic shake of the head. “This was too close. We have drawn undue attention to ourselves. If we were to be boarded by authorities, a dead body is the last thing we need on board. The body must be dumped overboard.”

A tear ran down the subordinate’s cheek. “But this is my...my brother. What will I tell my parents when not even his dead body returns?”

“Tell them to think of all you will be able to provide them when your TYR stock options are next to God.”

At that moment two other crewmembers appeared on deck. They hesitated as if unsure of what to do next. Then the lead gave them a nod, and they moved to pick up the wrapped body at their feet. A look of bewilderment crossed the subordinate’s face. He moved towards the body as if to block the two approaching men, but he did nothing as his two associates tossed the corpse overboard where it vanished into the ship’s wake.

Kahului Airport

6:35 P.M.

“See you in a few hours,” Rob said to Tara as he closed the door to his helicopter.

Kristen, toting a backpack containing the test tubes they’d found on the reef, re-capped Tara’s instructions as she and Dave climbed into the passenger side.

“So as soon as we land at Honolulu, we take a taxi to the UH sequencing lab.”

“Try not to get into too much trouble before you get back,” Lance said, giving her a protective, brotherly stare before closing the helo’s door. He and Tara watched from a safe distance as the chopper lifted into the sky.

“If those test tubes were left on purpose as another message from your father, we’ll know soon enough,” Tara said, referencing the agreement Kristen made with the sequencing lab. She was paying them another overtime, rush-job fee to analyze the test tube samples for the most common microbe, assuming they contained microbes, and then to sequence the genes of that organism.

Tara glanced across the heliport toward the ocean, where the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky.

“Not much to do but wait. What do you say we take a cab into Lahaina and have some dinner?” Tara said. “I want you to be ready to decode this message, if that’s what it is, as soon as it comes in.”

The door to the lab swung open and a contingent of masked men entered the room. William Archer looked up from his microscope.

“Progress report,” the lead demanded.

“I was just observing the first generation cells now. GREENBACK is ready.”

The lead looked to the scientist who had been monitoring Archer’s work in his absence. The man nodded. “The procedure does appear to have been successful,” he said in English. Apparently they wanted Archer in the loop on this conversation.

“We are en route to the Big Island,” the lead said. “We will cruise through the night and make landfall there tomorrow afternoon. We will arrange for transport to the Mauna Kea summit.”

Archer nodded. “Good. Then tomorrow we can end this, right?”

“Presuming you deliver GREENBACK as promised,” the lead said.

“It will work. From an environmental standpoint, however, I cannot predict what the effects will be. Releasing GREENBACK into the atmosphere may have profound implications. The naturally occurring microbes may mutate, causing—”

“That will no longer be your concern, Doctor Archer,” since it is we who will own and control GREENBACK. Our attorneys are filing the legal paperwork claiming ownership of the patent—in Washington and Shanghai—as we speak.”

Archer gave a sarcastic salute. “All I’m saying is that it hasn’t been done before, so unexpected results are not entirely unanticipated.”

“Your concern is duly noted, but I remind you that your only responsibility now is to ensure the viability of the cells you have created until they can be tested at Mauna Kea.”

“Understood.”

“Is there anything else you will be needing until we arrive at Mauna Kea?”

“Yes, there is something everyone who is going will need.”

“And what is that?”

“Cold weather mountaineering gear. Since the summit is nearly fourteen thousand feet high, it’s extremely cold. During the winter there is enough snow to support a local ski operation. There probably won’t be that much snow this time of year, but it will be windy and very cold. I doubt you carry parkas, gloves, boots, scarves?”

The lead glanced at his crewmembers, who shook their heads in turn.

“The ascent cannot be made without them. The local tour companies provide cold weather gear for their clients. Such provisions can be had in the town of Waimea, which is the unofficial ‘base camp’ for Mauna Kea.”

The lead nodded. “Very well. We will take care of the logistics. Continue to monitor the cell line. You are to inform us immediately should you become aware of any problems. Not to do so will jeopardize your freedom. Is this clear?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then continue your good work, doctor.” The lead swept out of the lab followed by a group of crewmembers.

Archer scratched his head in thought for a moment, considering an array of cell samples in a nearby rack stand. He turned to the scientist monitoring him.

“Since I’ll be sitting here for quite some time until we reach the Big Island, I’d like to do a little side-experiment. I will of course continue to monitor the health of the new GREENBACK population, but there is some fine-tuning that could be done that may optimize the microbe’s response to CO
₂
.”

His monitor scientist approached, peering intently at the surface of Archer’s lab bench. “Provided you tell me the exact purpose of what you are doing at all times, explaining each step as you go, okay.”

“Of course,” Archer nodded, his left hand crumpling a sticker which had been labeling one of the tubes and letting it drop to the floor.

Tara’s new temporary cell-phone, bought at a strip mall outside Lahaina, interrupted the solo ukulele performance in Kimo’s, a waterfront restaurant on Front Street. Ignoring the irate glances from customers at nearby tables, she covered one ear with a hand and took the call.

“
Aloha
Tara,” Kristen’s voice came through the receiver. “We’re just leaving the lab. They have the sample and they’re processing it now.”

“Good work. So get to the airport and have Rob bring you back here. Hopefully, we’ll need Lance to decode another message. Let’s hope the next one brings us safely to your Dad.” Lance nodded as he took a bite of the grilled snapper, or
opakapaka
, he’d ordered.

As the sun set over the former whaling town, Tara and Lance enjoyed a seafood dinner—the food, if not each other’s company. For a brief moment, they almost forgot about the circumstances that had brought them to Maui.

 
Two hours later Tara and Lance had eaten and checked into a Lahaina hotel that was walking distance from the waterfront. Outside their first floor room, the seaside town bustled with activity as vacationers strolled the shop-lined streets and prepared for a night out.

Tara had just decided that now was the time to start grilling Lance in earnest about his role in the kidnapping when they heard footsteps approaching their door, followed by a knock.

Tara held a hand up to Lance, indicating she wanted silence. She padded over to the peephole and peered out to see Dave and Kristen standing there. She let them in.

“I could get used to this helicopter travel,” Dave greeted them. “Oahu’s pretty nice right about now. Looks like it’s gonna rain here.”

“Where’s Rob?” Tara asked.

Kristen answered, “He’s still at the airport now. Said he had some post-flight checks to do, and then he said he’ll be in a hotel. We just have to call him when we’re ready,” she finished, tossing the pilot’s business card onto the dresser. “Meanwhile, the lab said they'd get to my job right away, so I'm going to check my e-mail and see if they've sent me anything yet.”

A couple of minutes later a squeal of excitement told the rest of them that Kristen had heard from the genomics lab.

She read aloud from the e-mail:

We have sequenced a bacterium found within the two test tube samples you hand delivered to us today. Both samples contained the same medium—clean seawater containing a culture of lab quality marine bacteria. Thus far we have only sequenced one of the tubes, since each sample contains the same bugs, but let us know if you would like the other sequenced as well.

Kristen looked at Lance and said, “I hope you’re ready to do some computer work. I’m downloading the file now,” she said, swatting at the laptop’s keyboard.

“I’ll fire up some coffee,” Lance said, moving toward the pot on top of the small refrigerator.

Dave waved him off. “I can make the coffee. What I can’t do is the computer stuff. So you get started on that, and I’ll bring the coffee to you.” Tara nodded her approval as she began dialing her cell-phone.

Lance nodded and went to Kristen’s laptop, already open on the room’s single table. “Thanks,” he said, sitting in front of the machine. “The hard work’s already been done. Since I already wrote the deciphering program, I should just need to run this new sequence through it.”

While Tara checked in with Rob on her phone, Kristen and Dave sat on the end of the bed, watching the local news with the sound muted while Lance formatted the raw genetic data for use with the custom algorithm he'd created at Hanauma Bay. It didn’t take him long.

“The START/STOP strings are in the lab sequence,” Lance announced as Dave brought him a cup of coffee.

“Yes! That means there’s another message from Dad,” Kristen said while Lance tapped a key. Characters scrolled down the screen so fast as to be unreadable. Then they stopped. Lance looked sick.

“What is it?” Kristen said. Tara crossed the room to the laptop as she hung up with Rob.

“There’s a message, all right,” Lance said. “But it’s not from Dad.”

…GAAA
63
ACGT...

9:06 P.M.

The four of them crowded around the table to view the message displayed on the laptop’s screen:

Welcome to Hawaii now go home. We will kill your father if you follow or alert authorities. Do nothing and you will see him soon. Alive.

Kristen doubled over, as if she’d been struck in the stomach. She felt physically ill. “Wh—What...how?” she stuttered. Dave gripped her hand, shaking his head.

Lance said, “I think it’s safe to say that Dad’s kidnappers have caught on to his secret courier service.”

“Lance,” Kristen said, gripping his shoulder, “Are you certain that you decoded the message properly?” But she could see from the look in her brother’s eyes that he was feeling sorry for her, for the anguish she now experienced. He had made no errors. He merely nodded in response.

“Maybe we should just do what they say,” Dave suggested.

No one replied to that.

“I guess we won’t be getting any more messages from Dad,” Lance said, turning away from the laptop.