Genocide of One: A Thriller (53 page)

“You’re sure the communications network isn’t compromised?” The chairman pressed home
the point. The air force, after all, had had one of their unmanned Predator drones
hijacked.

“We’re fine. These are Raptors we’re scrambling, not remote-controlled aircraft.”

As he watched the shifting situation, Rubens began to feel apprehensive. And when
he received confirmation that a squadron of four F-22s had taken off from Eglin Air
Force base, his anxiety only increased. The Boeing business jet had no defenses against
air-to-air missiles. It was going to be shot down for sure now.

Still—Rubens frowned. Something had gotten stuck in his mind, and he couldn’t shake
it.

Airspace 450 kilometers, southeast of Miami.

The spot where the Boeing had reappeared must have some significance. Rubens combed
his memory and finally remembered. There had been an incident involving a midlevel
executive of a drug cartel. This man had been heading to the United States on his
own jet when the pilot lost consciousness and the plane nearly crashed. The drug cartel
executive managed to keep the plane level and get it to rise again, but before he
did the plane was painted by US air defense radar. And this unidentified small aircraft
reemerged onto radar exactly 450 kilometers southeast of Miami.

Gradually Rubens understood Nous’s intentions. Because of the drug cartel incident,
NORAD was forced to reevaluate the air defense system. A new action plan, including
the stationing of F-22s, must have been transmitted through the military communications
network to all related agencies. And Nous—or, rather, Ema in Japan—had hacked into
this secret information. And knew what actions the air force would take in response
to an unidentified aircraft invading its airspace. The F-22s that had just scrambled
had been lured out by Ema.

“The hijacked plane has changed direction,” a voice said, and Rubens looked up.

The triangle on the CG display, which had been heading north, was now heading east-northeast.
Once again Rubens was left wondering what Nous was up to. The Boeing plane left the
Florida peninsula and was returning to the open seas. It was headed toward the Sargasso
Sea—dangerous waters, where numerous sailing ships in the age of exploration had shipwrecked.
If it continued on its present course, the only place it could land would be Bermuda,
but if it landed there, they’d have no place to run to on the little island. Nous
and his group would suffer one of three fates: they would be shot down by interceptor
jets, cornered, or run out of fuel and crash into the ocean.

“The threat is receding,” said the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, seeking direction
from the commander in chief. “How should we proceed if the aircraft leaves the Air
Defense Identification Zone?”

“Keep after it,” President Burns answered from the videoconference screen. “Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. President,” the director of Operation Nemesis replied in a shrill voice.
For Eldridge the present situation was nothing less than a nightmare. The operation
had gotten completely out of control, and he was no doubt afraid his career prospects
were in a death spiral as well.

Rubens stared at the conferencing screen, hoping to see how Holland was reacting.
He spotted him among the seated figures. He couldn’t make out Holland’s expression,
but he did see a man hurry over to him and pass him a small note. Holland put on reading
glasses and stared at the memo. For an instant the CIA director seemed to freeze.
Holland shook his head feebly and spoke to President Burns. “This just came in. America
is under attack.”

Burns grimaced.
“What?!”

“Electric power stations in Alaska, Wisconsin, Michigan, and Maine have come under
cyberattack and are no longer generating electricity. There have also been irregularities
in the control systems at thirty-five nuclear power plants, and they’ve halted operations.”

In both the Situation Room and the Operation Nemesis command center, silence reigned
as everyone tried to absorb the shock.

“If they’re not restored quickly, tens of thousands of people will freeze to death.
And by the way…” Holland hesitated. “The cyberattack began at the exact same time
the fighters were scrambled.”

So this was their final trump card, Rubens realized. These superhumans had counterattacked
mercilessly in order to preserve their race. Ema would do whatever it took to prevent
the interceptors from firing their missiles.

The taxi got off the highway at the Kinshi-cho off-ramp. The university hospital was
close by. Kento was fifteen minutes behind schedule, but he prayed he’d be in time
if he got the drug to Jeong-hoon right away. Jeong-hoon planned to ride his motorcycle
to Narita airport so he wouldn’t get caught in any traffic jams.

As he was telling the driver the way to the hospital, his cell phone rang. Kento looked
at the display and saw it was from Jeong-hoon. He put the phone to his ear, starting
to feel anxious that something had happened. “Hello?”

“Kento? Where are you now?”

“Very close. I’ll be there in three minutes.”

“Hold on,” Jeong-hoon said, lowering his voice, as if worried about being overheard.
“Maybe you shouldn’t come.”

“Why not?”

“I’m at the entrance to the hospital, and there’s a car that’s been parked outside
here for a long time. The driver’s been watching the entrance.”

The chances were good that the police had staked out the hospital. They had kept his
parents’ house and his lab under surveillance, and now they were watching the university
hospital. Kento hurriedly put his hand over the phone. “I’m sorry,” he said to the
driver, “but would you just pull over someplace?”

“Okay,” the driver replied. He changed lanes and pulled over to the side of the road.

Kento turned back to the phone. “The car doesn’t look like it’s leaving anytime soon?”

“No,” Jeong-hoon said. “What should we do? Maybe we should meet somewhere else.”

“No. Hold on a second.”

If he couldn’t slip by the detectives and get into the hospital, he wouldn’t be able
to deliver the medicine to Maika Kobayashi. Jeong-hoon could take his place, but sending
a Korean exchange student nobody knew would be pointless. He’d never get to the ICU,
let alone to Maika. Kento was suddenly struck by doubt: Was Maika even still alive?
If she had already died, then he’d be putting himself in danger for nothing.

No, Kento decided. I’ve come this far for her and can’t give up hope. “We’re going
to take another route,” he said to the driver. “Please go to the back entrance of
the hospital. Turn right after the next street.”

“At the second light?” the driver said. He switched on his turn signal and pulled
out into traffic.

“Jeong-hoon,” Kento said into the phone. “I’m going in through the back entrance.
Can you make sure the car at the front stays put?”

“Got it.”

“Don’t hang up.”

Kento pulled earphones out of his backpack and plugged them into the phone jack. He’d
be able to talk and keep his hands free.

The taxi turned onto a back street. The taxi’s headlights revealed the concrete wall
surrounding the university hospital.

Kento leaned forward, checking to see that there were no suspicious cars parked along
the road. It looked okay. No detectives seemed to be staking out the place.

The taxi pulled up to the back entrance, and Kento quickly paid the driver and got
out. “No movement there?” he asked.

“Everything’s fine,” he heard Jeong-hoon say.

Kento whispered a short prayer for Maika Kobayashi, then went in the back entrance
and spoke to the security guard stationed at the reception desk. “I have a delivery
for Dr. Yoshihara in pediatrics.”

“And you are…?” the guard asked.

“Doi, from the pharmacology college at Tokyo University of Science and Humanities.”
Kento’s heart skipped a beat. A person was reflected in the glass window of the reception
cubicle. The detective, Kadota, who had barged into Kento’s apartment with a search
warrant. He was getting out of a black car parked in a corner of the parking lot inside
the wall and hurrying in Kento’s direction.

“All right. Please go ahead,” the guard said.

Kento went into the main hospital building and rushed over to the elevators, but then
thought better of it. Kadota would be able to see the display above the elevator and
know which floor he got off at.

Jeong-hoon’s voice came through on the earphones. “Kento? Are you there? The man in
the car got out and is running toward the hospital.”

“There’s a detective right behind me,” Kento said as he raced to the door to the stairs.
“They know I’m here.”

“What should we do?”

“Stay put. After I get the medicine to the ICU on the sixth floor, I’ll find a way
to get outside.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to turn off the phone.”

Kento powered off the cell phone and started running up the stairs. He reached the
sixth floor, pushed open the metal door, and came out on a long corridor stretching
out in the ICU. How much time would he have before the detectives got here? At the
other end of the hall was a swinging door, and through the window in the door he could
see the bank of elevators. No one was there. He was still okay.

Kento went over to the ICU and peered through the glass wall. He prayed that Maika
was still alive as he searched the unit for her and saw a group of people gathered
on the left. A doctor and nurses in white and a couple who must be the girl’s parents
surrounded a bed.

The woman who must be her mother was wiping away tears, while the others stood there,
silent, heads down.
No way!
Kento thought, and moved to one side to get a view of the bed through the crowd of
people. He could see the girl, hooked up to an IV and an oxygen mask. When he saw
her small chest move up and down, Kento wanted to leap for joy. Maika Kobayashi was
still alive.

He looked to both sides to make sure he was safe. The detectives hadn’t reached this
floor yet. He spotted Yoshihara next to the bed and raised his hand to get his attention.

Yoshihara, speaking to a more senior doctor, noticed him. He shot him a bewildered
look and started in his direction.

Yoshihara came through the automatic door and out into the hallway and yanked his
mask off. He looked annoyed. “Why are you here this late?”

“How is she?”

Yoshihara shook his head listlessly. “I’m afraid it’s hopeless. I told her parents
she won’t make it through the night.”

But these discouraging words only encouraged Kento. He’d made it in time. All they
needed was thirty minutes for GIFT to show what it was capable of.

“So why are you here? You wanted to visit her?”

“No. I’ve brought a medicine to treat pulmonary sclerosis.”

Yoshihara frowned. “Did I hear you right?”

Kento rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a plastic bag. Inside were numerous
plastic containers. “There’s a half-year supply here if you give one dose per day,
orally. You have to give her this right away.”

But Yoshihara only looked more incredulous. “Who made this drug?”

Kento came up with a quick lie. “It’s Chinese herbal medicine. It’s been tested, and
it’s safe.”

“Give me a break. I’ve done my homework on this disease. There’s no such thing as
a Chinese herbal medicine that helps with pulmonary sclerosis.”

“I tried it on mice.” Kento barely kept himself from yelling. “It takes effect immediately.
Give it to her now, and her lungs will revive. Check the pulse oximeter and you’ll
get the results right away.”

“But you haven’t done clinical trials yet, have you? If I give her the medicine the
hospital ethics committee will be all over me.”

“Damn it, who cares about ethics?!” Kento shot back.

Yoshihara looked indignant. “Are you crazy? You really think I can give a patient
a medicine I know nothing about?”

“But if you don’t do anything she’s going to die!”

From down the hallway the elevator chimed. Startled, Kento stared. Past the swinging
doors, two nurses exited the elevator. He turned back to Yoshihara. “Look, I tested
transgenic mice and their ventilatory capacity. In just thirty minutes their arterial
oxygen saturation had started to recover. I’m begging you, give her the medicine!”

“But if they find something odd in the autopsy—”

“There won’t
be
an autopsy. She won’t be a dead body! Don’t you get it? This drug will save her!”

The elevator chimed another arrival. A middle-aged man in a suit emerged. Detective
Kadota from the Metropolitan Police Department. He craned his head from side to side,
trying to spot his target.

“Damn,” Kento muttered. He was out of time. If they grabbed him now he wouldn’t be
able to get the medicine to Jeong-hoon for Justin Yeager. Kento turned his back on
the elevator hall. “Are you going to let her die? Or take a chance on this drug? It’s
up to you now. But please, I’m begging you—save Maika.”

Kento thrust the bag with GIFT toward Yoshihara and headed back to his only escape
route, the stairs.

“Wait!” Yoshihara yelled, but Kento, afraid, kept on going. Any hesitation and Kadota
would grab him. Anxiety seized him, as if the devil were hot in pursuit. It was already
hard to get away from there without being noticed. Kento made a beeline for the stairs
and pushed open the door. Now he only had to get down to the first floor, but as he
headed down he heard footsteps coming up from below. Hard leather shoes, and he knew
it was the other detective who had been staking out the entrance.

At this rate he’d be caught in the middle. He had to head upstairs. But if they came
at him from both the stairs and elevators he’d be totally cut off. And then how would
he get outside the hospital?

Feeling hopeless and desperate, Kento was racing up the stairs, taking two at a time,
when he heard another sound—the roar of a motorcycle engine—from outside the building.
At the seventh floor, he flung open the window and looked below. In the security lights,
Jeong-hoon was astride his motorcycle, staring up.