The Cicada Prophecy: A Medical Thriller - Science Fiction Technothriller Read online

  The local police were now combing through the building looking for fingerprints and other evidence, interviewing support staff in an effort to identify those responsible for the assaults. But Special Agent Sanchez was here today on a different mission; he had little concern for the relatively minor acts of vandalism committed by the rioting adolescents—his only interest was in finding new evidence that might help solve the disappearance of Eva Bronwen and discover who was involved with the tampering of the juvenile patch. Assistant Director Inzucchi was growing increasingly displeased with his lack of progress, and the latest uprisings had only intensified pressure from Washington to solve the cases soon.

  So far, Agent Sanchez had very few leads in either case. Although the New York City police had found the stolen ambulance used to kidnap the Queen from Lincoln Center, FBI analysts were unable to find any fingerprints they could trace through their criminal database. On the night of the Gala, the police had found two waiters bound and gagged in a storage room behind the kitchen, but no progress had been made finding their replacements who had stripped them of their clothes and poured the poisoned Champagne. And even though an all-points bulletin had been issued to report any sightings of Calvin James or Eva, neither of the two adults had been seen since their disappearance two Saturdays ago. Last night, in a hopeful turn, Sanchez had received a call from Dr. Ross, who believed she’d been taken to a remote mountain deep in the California interior, but Sanchez thought his evidence was too flimsy to take seriously.

  On the matter of the Endogen case, some more promising leads had been uncovered fairly early in the investigation, but since then Sanchez and his team had hit a brick wall. There had been no progress finding the missing quality control manager who fled shortly after the tampering incident, despite a worldwide Interpol alert and search. It was widely believed he’d left the country with some kind of payoff from the ringleaders, but there was still no sign of the main saboteur or his accomplices. The one concrete piece of evidence that Sanchez had been able to uncover—fiber samples and human saliva on the replacement labels of the contaminated drums—had also led to a dead end; he’d been unable to narrow the field of suspects sufficiently to begin testing and cross-referencing samples with the collected evidence.

  In an effort to open some new leads and uncover any useful additional information, Sanchez had decided to meet with Endogen’s embattled CEO once more to see if the chief executive could provide any clues, given his unique knowledge and understanding of the giant organization.

  As Sanchez stepped over the splintered threshold to Jamieson’s office, he saw the CEO in his shirtsleeves looking pensively outside the broken window.

  “Quite a mess, isn’t it?” Sanchez said, announcing his arrival.

  Jamieson swung around, surprised to see Special Agent Sanchez among the regular police investigating the break-in.

  “Yes—who would have thought it would come to all this?” he said, looking about his ransacked office.

  “Amazing what a little extra testosterone will do.” Sanchez sniffed, referring none-too-subtly to Endogen’s loose oversight of the tampering incident.

  “I’m surprised to see you here, Agent Sanchez,” Jamieson replied, choosing to ignore the crack. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d have anything to do with these protests and the break-in; I thought you were primarily investigating the patch tampering incident?”

  “I still am. This break-in concerns me only insofar as it might be connected to the missing Queen or the tampering case.”

  “So you haven’t made any progress in uncovering the perpetrator in the tampering case, then?”

  “Not really,” Sanchez replied, not yet willing to divulge the limited information he’d unearthed so far. “I was hoping you might be able to help me with some of that today.”

  “I’ve already told you everything I know. We’ve given the FBI our full cooperation and access to every part of the organization.”

  “Yes, unfortunately it’s revealed very little so far.”

  “Perhaps you’ll never find the saboteur,” Jamieson suggested, with a little dig of his own. “He appears to have cleverly covered his tracks.”

  “Not entirely. We have discovered how he accomplished the tampering.”

  “Oh really?” Jamieson suddenly seemed interested. “How?”

  “Somebody got into the storage room for the bulk materials containers and switched the labels on the vital ingredients.” Sanchez said, revealing only part of what he knew.

  “How ingenious,” Jamieson replied. “Have you got any idea as to who it might be?”

  “Not really—I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on that.”

  “I wouldn’t have any idea. Sorry, that whole side of the business hasn’t really been a priority.”

  “So it would seem,” Agent Sanchez said dryly. “What about your quality control manager who disappeared so suddenly after the tampering affair. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

  “I wouldn’t have a clue. I barely knew the person. He reported in through the Production Superintendent, three levels below me in the organization.”

  Sanchez eyed Jamieson suspiciously, surprised by his alleged ignorance of this key part of the business—one he seemed to show much more knowledge about in his previous interview. He decided to look around Jamieson’s office for any sign of anything unusually out of place.

  “Do you mind if I take a few minutes to look around your office?”

  “No, of course not. Though I can’t imagine why you’d want to look here. Shouldn’t you be digging around more in the Production and Operations side of the business?”

  “We’ve already done that,” Sanchez said, growing increasingly irritated by Jamieson’s patronizing attitude. “It’s possible someone from your group of attackers yesterday might have left some incriminating evidence.”

  “Knock yourself out,” Jamieson replied, shaking his head at the futility of Agent Sanchez’s search.

  As Agent Sanchez slowly moved about Jamieson’s office, using his highly trained eye to inspect any and every artifact that might provide any germane clue to his investigation, he stopped behind Jamieson’s desk, where he noticed a blue suit jacket loosely draped over the scuffed leather chair.

  “Is that your jacket?”

  “Yes—why?”

  “It seems a bit dirty,” Agent Sanchez said, noticing a small brown discoloration on the front lapel.

  “Really?” Jamieson said, picking it up and holding it to the light from the window. “It must be from the protestors who looted my office yesterday. I left it on my chair when I saw them break through the front door and suddenly had to leave. I suppose I’ll have to get it dry-cleaned.”

  “Do you mind if I take a sample for our records?”

  “I suppose not,” Jamieson replied suspiciously. “Though I can’t see what any of this could possibly have to do with the tampering incident, or the Queen’s abduction.”

  “Let us worry about that,” Sanchez said icily, as he took a swab of the fabric and placed the specimen in a clear plastic bag.

  “Thank you for your time today, Mr. Jamieson,” he said, as he suddenly turned to leave. “We’ll be in touch.”

  As Jamieson watched the FBI agent walk smartly out of his office, he retrieved the suit jacket draped over his office chair and inspected the lapel. Somehow, the minor discoloration had escaped his earlier scrutiny. Shaking his head in dismay, he walked into his personal washroom and began vigorously blotting it with a moist towel.

  51

  At LaGuardia airport on the edge of Flushing Bay, Rick and Jennifer waited in the departure lounge of American Airlines for their early morning flight to Los Angeles. After he was rebuffed by Special Agent Sanchez concerning his assertion that Eva had been taken by Calvin to a cabin in the White Mountains, Rick immediately notified Jennifer to tell her he was planning to go there himself the following morning. Jennifer had tried vigorously to dissuade him, believi
ng it was far too dangerous to confront Calvin by himself, but recognizing that Rick couldn’t be convinced to let the matter stand with the police, she eventually insisted on coming with him. Grudgingly, the two agreed they would have a greater chance of success working together, if indeed they did find Eva with Calvin.

  “You realize this is a crazy idea, don’t you?” Jennifer said as they headed toward the departure gate after hearing their boarding call.

  “Somebody’s got to save Eva,” Rick flatly intoned, “The feds seem to have more important concerns on their hands.”

  “Well you have to admit, it’s a pretty tenuous link you’ve suggested.”

  “I don’t think so at all—what are the chances that this same unusual resinous wood odor would be found anywhere else on earth, besides the one remote place where it naturally grows?”

  “How can you be absolutely certain it was from the same wood?! I’m sure a lot of pine trees smell alike.”

  “These ones had a unique aroma, remember? It was from their special resin that makes them so fire resistant.”

  Jennifer had to admit the old growth bristlecone trees in the Inyo Forest had a uniquely strong scent, unlike anything she’d smelled before.

  “Well maybe some logging company harvested a few trees from the region,” she argued, not quite ready to concede the point, “recognizing they produce such a nice aromatic fuel?”

  “You sound just like the skeptical FBI agent. Besides, these particular trees are far too small and inaccessible for loggers to be interested in harvesting firewood.”

  “Maybe Calvin likes to hike the Sierras too,” Jennifer said, beginning to realize the futility of her argument, “and simply brought back some souvenirs to remind him of the fresh air?”

  “What—as checked baggage on his return flight?!” Rick said, as he stowed their bags in the overhead storage bins. “Come on Jennifer, now who’s stretching?”

  “Okay,” Jennifer conceded, taking her seat beside Rick, “so what if he is there? Who’s to say he’s got Eva? Maybe he’s just gone somewhere to lie low and avoid jail time for the incident with Elias.”

  “Calvin knew full well that wouldn’t be a serious enough offense to keep him behind bars for long. He obviously orchestrated his escape for some grander purpose. The assassination of the Queens, the destruction of the egg supply, then the kidnapping of Eva—it’s got his hands all over it.”

  “Why there though? It’s an awfully inhospitable place to hole up.”

  “If you think about it, it’s the perfect place to hide, precisely for that reason. It’s one of the few places on this continent where you can be almost guaranteed no one’s going to stumble across them.”

  “But how could they possibly survive up there? You said yourself: there are very few food sources, and surely there’s no power supply that far from any built-up area.”

  “Remember the grouse and marmots? And there’s easily enough wind or solar energy at the top of the mountain to power a small cabin. As long as he’s got a rifle or some kind of makeshift animal trap, I’m sure he can find enough food to feed two people.”

  “Great, so we’re going up against a crazed armed man in his fortified cabin on top of the most inhospitable mountain, in the height of winter—completely unarmed?”

  “Yes,” Rick smiled, “but we’ll have at least one advantage: the element of surprise.”

  “That makes me feel so much more comfortable.” Jennifer scoffed.

  “Hey, you can still back out,” Rick offered. “I didn’t want to put you at risk in this venture anyway.”

  “Are you crazy?” Jennifer exclaimed. “I made that mistake before, when I let you go to Elias’s funeral alone. You could have gotten yourself killed then too. I’m not letting you anywhere near this lunatic by yourself again, if I can help it. Besides, at least I can provide some kind of diversion to give you a fighting chance.”

  “Yes, you can be very distracting when you set your mind to it,” Rick kidded, as the two buckled their belts before takeoff. “I hope you remembered to pack your heavy woolens and parka—it’s going to be a lot colder on top of the mountain this time.”

  As Jennifer heard the roar of the aircraft’s engines and felt the jet accelerate rapidly off the runway, she looked out her window at the skyline of mid-town Manhattan falling away, and tried not to imagine what horrors Eva might be facing while she awaited her improbable rescue.

  52

  Eva peered out the window of her tiny cabin at the bleak and lonely landscape stretching off to the horizon. For as far as she could see, there was nothing but an empty canvas of cold white snow, dotted with the odd stunted evergreen tree. She had been brought to this isolated hut in the mountains three days ago, with little indication of Calvin’s intentions or how long he planned to keep her. But shortly after, it became horribly clear exactly what he wanted, when he forced himself upon the Queen and sexually assaulted her repeatedly.

  She initially struggled to resist his advances, but this only served to inflame Calvin’s passion. Amidst her continuing resistance, he eventually tied her to his rattling old bed and had his way with her. Her screams for help were only met with malevolent laughter, for Calvin knew there was no one to hear them for hundreds of miles. In a fit of desperation, she’d tried to run away one night when he was preoccupied in the lavatory, but the crusty, foot-deep snow exhausted her within a short distance of the cabin. After calmly strapping on snowshoes, Calvin quickly overtook her and dragged the shivering and sobbing Queen back to his shack.

  Now Eva could foresee no escape from her personal hell. Even if she managed to steal away from Calvin while he was sleeping, she wouldn’t get far in the sub-freezing alpine temperatures, since he had locked all their warm clothes in a footlocker under the bed. All she had to wear was the flimsy silk ball gown she’d worn at the Gala and a thin cotton negligee Calvin had given her, which barely covered her upper body. Besides, she wouldn’t even know in which direction to head, since she had absolutely no idea of her location, or how far it was to any sign of civilization.

  Eva knew she had nowhere to run, sequestered in this tiny one-room cabin on a remote wilderness hillside. As Calvin stoked a fire in the wood stove behind her, she looked up at the twinkling stars in the moonlit sky and imagined herself back in New York City, where she and Mike danced under the sparkling lights of the Hippodrome with everyone looking on in awe. How much she longed to be back among the people from which she once felt so alienated. Only now, after spending just a few days with her volatile contemporary, so viciously driven by powerful hormonal impulses, could she see the inherent value of a world populated exclusively by peace-loving and thoroughly rational juveniles.

  “There’s no one out there to save you, my queen,” Calvin said, as he suddenly came up behind Eva and placed his soot-covered hand around her waist. “It’s just you and me in this perfect paradise, where no one will ever find us.”

  “I’m not your queen, you filthy animal,” Eva said, as she recoiled from Calvin’s embrace. “And I never will be!”

  “With time I’m sure you’ll come to feel differently,” Calvin replied calmly, pulling her back against his rigid body. “We were meant to be together, like Adam and Eve—the first man and woman. Except in our case, we’re the last ones.”

  Eva could feel Calvin’s excitement rising as he pressed himself firmly against her backside.

  “But not for long—” he continued, “you and I are going to rebuild the human race the way God meant it to be.”

  The thought of Calvin violating her again sickened Eva. His foul breath on her neck and his greasy hair falling on her bosom was more revolting than anything she could have imagined. The only way she’d found to get through the ordeal was to imagine what she would do to him when she had an opportunity to inflict her revenge.

  “You’re insane,” she said, seething with contempt. “You think you can actually start your own race of people in this inhospitable place? The rest of the wor
ld will eventually find you—and I will never bear you any children!”

  “Oh, you will, my lady,” Calvin said, his voice rising in intensity, “and we will surely repopulate the earth. For we are the only two people left who have the means to do so. You will bend to God’s will—and to my desire—as it is written in the book of Genesis.”

  “So you’re the one who killed the Queens,” Eva replied, trying to distract Calvin from his lascivious thoughts. “I should have known. Only a deranged lunatic like you could be so cruel and heartless.”

  Calvin moved his gritty hand further under Eva’s nightgown. “Yes, Eva—I wanted you all to myself. And now with the other Queens gone, there can be no dilution of the race that only we will create.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Eva said, wrenching herself temporarily free. “What about all the stored eggs? New queens can be created from them at any time.”

  Calvin smiled at Eva’s ignorance, as he pulled her closer.

  “My devoted disciples have taken care of that. They destroyed all the eggs the night of your kidnapping.”

  Eva looked at Calvin incredulously.

  “That’s impossible. Those eggs are stored in secure cryobanks all over the world.”

  “How naive, my sweet sheltered Queen. How hard do you think it is to put on a hospital uniform and steal somebody’s security pass? My people did their homework—it was far easier than you can imagine.”