The Atlantis Gene (The Origin Mystery 1)
Page 12“Why?”
“I believe they’ll wait for you to return. Given what you know, you’re a liability. Whenever they attack, you’ll be at the top of the target list. The morning briefing would be the ideal time for a strike; they’re probably waiting for that.”
Josh felt his mouth go dry. “That’s why you grabbed me off the elevator.” He thought for a moment. “So what now, you want me to identify the threats on the staff before the briefing? We initiate a preemptive attack?”
“No. That was the original plan, but we’re past that now. We have to assume Jakarta Station will fall. If we’re compromised as badly as the other major cells, it’s only a matter of time. We have to look at the big picture and try to figure out our adversary’s end game. We have to assume that one or more cells will survive and that they will be able to use anything we learn. If not, maybe one of the national agencies. But there’s still one question you haven’t asked, a very important one.”
Josh thought for a second. “Why now? And why start with the analysts? Why didn’t you clean the field operatives first?”
“Very good.” David flipped open a folder. “Seven days ago, I was contacted by an anonymous source who said two things. 1: there was an imminent terrorist attack — on a scale we’ve never seen before. And 2: that Clocktower had been compromised.” David arranged a few pages. “He included a list of 60 analysts that he claimed were compromised. We shadowed them for a few days and confirmed them making dead-drops and unauthorized communications. It checked out. The source said there might be more. The rest you know: the other station chiefs and I organized the analyst conference. We interrogated and quarantined the compromised analysts, replacing them with actors at the conference. Whoever the source is, he either didn’t know about the field agents or didn’t disclose it for his own reasons. The source refused to meet, and I received no other communications from him. We proceeded with the conference and after… the purge. The source was radio-silent. Then, late last night, he contacted me again. He said he wanted to deliver the other half of the intel he promised, details of a massive attack code-named Toba Protocol. We were supposed to meet this morning at Manggarai Station, but he didn’t show. Someone with a bomb did. But I think he wanted to be there. A kid gave me a newspaper with this message right after the attack.” David pushed a page across the table.
________________________
Toba Protocol is real.
7+22+47 = 3/8; Anderson
10+4+47 = 5/4; Ames
________________________
“Some kind of code,” Josh said.
“Yes, it’s surprising. The other messages were straight-forward. But now it makes sense.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Whatever the code is, it’s the real message — it’s what the entire setup has been about. The source wanted the analyst purge to happen so he could send his coded message at the right time — and know it would be decoded by someone who wasn’t a double agent — namely you. He wanted us focused on cleaning up the analysts and delaying the fireworks until he could send this message. Had we known how thoroughly we had been compromised, we would have quarantined the field operatives first and sent Clocktower into total lock-down. We wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“It’s a good question. He must be under surveillance as well. Communicating whatever he’s trying to tell us in the open must have repercussions; maybe it would cause his death or speed up this terrorist attack. So whoever is watching him assumes we don’t know what the message says yet. That may be why they haven’t taken more of the cells down — they still think they can contain Clocktower,” David said.
“Makes sense.”
“It does, but one question still bothered me: why me?”
Josh thought for a moment. “Right, why not the director of Clocktower, all the other Clocktower Station Chiefs, or simply alert all the world’s intelligence agencies? They would have more far-reaching power to stop an attack. Maybe tipping them would start the attack early — just like sending the message in the open. Or… you could be in a unique position to stop the attack…” Josh looked up. “or you know something.”
“That’s right. I mentioned earlier that I began investigating this super terrorist group before I joined Clocktower.” David stood, walked to the filing cabinet and withdrew two more folders. “I’m going to show you something I’ve been working on for over ten years, something I’ve never shown anyone else, even Clocktower.”
CHAPTER 13
Interrogation Room C
Jakarta, Indonesia
Kate leaned back in the chair and thought about her options. She would have to tell the investigator how the trial had begun. Even if he didn’t believe it, she had to get it on the record in case she went to trial. “Stop,” she said.
The man paused at the door.
Kate set her chair down and put her arms on the table. “There’s a very good reason why my trial adopted those children. There’s something you should understand. When I came to Jakarta, I expected to run this trial like any other trial in America. That was my first mistake. We failed… and we… changed our approach.”
The little man turned from the door, sat down, and listened as Kate described how she had spent weeks preparing for patient recruitment.
The trial had hired a Contract Research Organization (CRO) to run the trial, just as they would have in the US. In the US, pharmaceutical companies focus on developing a new drug or therapy, and when they have something promising, they hire a CRO to test it for them. The CROs find medical clinics with doctors interested in clinical research. The clinics, or sites, enroll willing patients into the trial, administer the new drug/therapy, then test them periodically for any health problems — adverse events. The CRO keeps close tabs on every site in the trial, reporting results to the sponsor/research organization, who makes their own reports to the FDA or governing body in countries around the world. The ultimate goal was a trial with the desired therapeutic effect without any negative or adverse effects. It was a long road, and less than 1% of drugs that worked in the lab ever made it to pharmacy shelves.
There was only one problem: Jakarta, and Indonesia at large, had no autism clinics and only a handful of specialty practices focusing on developmental disorders. Those clinics weren’t experienced in clinical research — a dangerous situation for patients. The pharmaceutical industry was tiny in Indonesia, mostly because the market was small (Indonesia imported mostly generic drugs), so very few doctors were ever contacted about research.