Chapter 16: Connecting the Dots

“We’ve picked up his trail,” Anderson reported. “Seems he was able to head out to the Pacific Northwest on a commercial airliner by …”. He cleared his throat. “…by impersonating an airline captain and riding in the jump seat.”

The President just shook his already lowered head. “What a wasted talent.”

“Maybe not. Who knows, Sir. Maybe he has an important role to play in some future event. At any rate, we know he disembarked at Sea-Tac and we have a lead that he stopped in an Army surplus store downtown. We have a number of leads at that point, including a ferry across the sound to Bremerton, a rental car up to Anacortes, and a run for the Canadian border hitchhiking among a few others. We’re following these up and should have another report for you at 1430.”

“Okay. Good work. I wish we had some idea what was driving him. But then, I rarely do. I’ll look forward to your next report.”

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There was a sharp knock on the stateroom door.

“Who’s there?” asked Jane.

“Capt. Eichmann, ma’am. I have a letter for you.”

She opened the door. The Captain was tall, and even if he hadn’t been an officer he would have commanded attention wherever he went. For a moment she wasn’t sure what this was about and wished John were there. Then he smiled.

“Do like my attempt at the southern speaking? I have learned that when we dock in New Orleans I am supposed to say ma’am to all the ladies, Ja?”

“Yes, that is very nice. And appropriate. What can I do for you? You said you had a letter?”

“An envelope. And I need you to follow me. There is some equipment in the hold I need you to see.”

“One moment.” She walked through the connecting doorway. “Henry, watch your brother and sister and don’t anyone leave the stateroom until I get back.”

“Sure, Mama. We’re making a story. You can hear it when you get back.”

She followed the captain down a number of passageways until they arrived at a portion of the hold near the stern. It was separate from where most of the bananas were kept.

“I was given a number of unusual instructions for this trip and this is just one of them. I was supposed to bring you here as soon as possible, but while the doctor was engaged elsewhere. There is some equipment here you are supposed to check and then let me know if it is satisfactory.”

He turned a key and opened the door. The crates had already been opened and most of the equipment set up. It looked like a high school chemistry lab. Jane slowly walked around the area, and then began picking up certain items for closer inspection. The Captain waited quietly by the door, alert for passing sailors, though who would wander into this remote part of the ship was a good question. After a few minutes she turned.

“Very good. More than I expected in fact. It would be nice to have a condensate distiller, though. Maybe 24 inch tubing.”

“I’ll let them know right away. Let me show you way back through the labyrinth to your room.”

Chapter 15: Julio Martinez

Julio Martinez made his way toward La Ceiba along the rugged Cangrejal River. The pain from the bullet in his knee had now become a familiar throb, and he marveled that he no longer thought of it as painful; it was just massively inconvenient.

Julio was a dreamer. He was highly educated, and a skeptical scientist. But he had never lost the mysterious power of imagination that fuels all great discoveries. As he made his way along the muddy banks, he recounted the series of accidents that led to his latest titration of an antiviral solution. He had never actually set out to find a cure for anything other than for one of his howler monkeys. The animal had contracted an extremely rare hyperplasia, and, mostly just as a side experiment, Julio tried to cure it. Oral focal epithelial hyperplasia was known in some native tribes, even Eskimos, but Julio had never heard of it in a new world primate. That was how he had begun. The implications of his findings were, well, possibly revolutionary.

On the other hand, he knew that Wilhelm Roentgen had never set out to find the X-ray; Edward Jenner’s intuition with the milkmaid Sarah Nelms led to vaccinations for smallpox; Dr. Alexander Flemming (only thirty years ago) decided not to toss out a moldy flu culture and discovered penicillin. And Julio knew very well the story of the Inca Indian who ingested the “poisonous” chinchona (which the natives called quina-quina) and so, with “quinine” was cured of malaria.

Governments the world over, however, often sought new discoveries and inventions as a means of controlling each other. Something in Julio’s vial had struck a chord somewhere in the world. Someone wanted his discovery, or at least wanted it suppressed.

Julio had not devised a plan once he arrived at La Ceiba, other than to get to the French Hospital d’Antoni and have this bullet removed. He had noticed a persistent headache and sore muscles, but ignored these as self-evident. He couldn’t understand why his fingers and toes tingled though. He just knew that he had to keep going.