CHARLES MALLORY KNOCKED TWICE on Room 503 of the Swissôtel in the Kurfürstendamm district of Berlin. He waited. Knocked four times again. Anna Vostrak opened, smiling.
Charlie had made up his mind that they should only kiss briefly and then get to business. But she wouldn’t let him stop. And then he didn’t want to.
“That’s nice,” he said. “I think we still need some practice, though.”
“Agreed.”
“How about after the meeting?”
“All right.”
She turned away and took a seat by the window. She looked smart, dressed in a dark skirt, beige dress shirt, and jacket.
Charlie had arrived twenty-five minutes early for a reason, and not just to kiss her. He wanted to bring her up to date. To tell her about the past seventy-two hours: his meeting with Russell Ott and Ott’s subsequent murder; Peter Quinn; the emergency plan; Mancala; and his brother, Jon. Anna was Charles Mallory’s memory stick—the one person not connected with the mission who would know everything about it.
They were talking about his father’s message in the safe deposit box when he heard a rapping at the door and stopped. Anna answered.
A thin, medium-built man dressed in an expensive dark suit entered. Gebhard Keller. A young-looking sixty-seven, with sharp features, black eyes, and fine silver-white hair. Keller carried a dark leather briefcase. He seemed to Charles Mallory like an upscale salesman, except he didn’t smile.
Charlie had asked Chidi Okoro to run a background check on Keller. He had found an impressive, and apparently clean, record. Keller retired early from German intelligence nine years ago and started his own pharmaceuticals intelligence firm. He’d contracted with most of the majors: Bayer, Pfizer, Roche and, prior to their merger, Glaxo and Wellcome. As with other pharma spy firms, the majority of his work involved patent violations. Nineteen months ago, he had sold his company, and he wasn’t really in the business anymore, although he had taken on at least two independent projects since then. Three, including this one. Charlie supposed his continued freelancing was like a prizefighter going back for one more bout. Once it was in your blood, nothing else provided the same charge. He understood that.
Keller sat at the table and slid the latches to open his briefcase. “I’m going to lay this out for you in general terms first, if there’s no objection. I will provide answers to your five questions, along with supplementary documentation. Then, I will try to answer any additional questions you might have.”
Anna nodded. Watching her, Charlie felt a longing again, a complicated feeling he wanted to simplify.
“If you show me that you have brought the second payment, we can proceed.”
Charlie handed him an envelope. Thank goodness for the United States government, he thought.
Keller examined it quickly and tucked it in a pocket of his briefcase.
“Did you do everything yourself?” Charlie asked.
“Everything myself. That’s correct.” His face creased into a weak facsimile of a smile. “I made some inquiries, as you can imagine, but discreetly. You have nothing to worry about.” He spoke with a slight German accent. “Yours is an unusual investigation. Most of what my company did was patent infringement. Not that that’s a small thing, of course.” He pulled sheets and clasped stacks of paper from the briefcase, organizing them on the table top. “Nearly ten percent of all drugs sold today are counterfeit, you understand. A successful drug these days, it’s a billion-dollar-a-year product. Fifteen years ago, a successful drug was one-tenth that. So, not surprisingly, there is a great deal of corruption in the industry.”
They waited. Keller fidgeted with a gold pen, then set it aside.
“You asked me five questions,” he said. “Here are my answers. Number one, you asked if there had been any dramatic increases in the production of flu vaccine or the flow of flu vaccine to Africa over the past six months. The answer is yes.
“The second part of your question assumed that answer. Where in Africa is this vaccine being shipped and what company or companies are handling the distribution?”
His eyes went back and forth from Anna to Charlie.
“The distribution mechanism is not one company. It’s at least seven different firms.” He rotated a list of names, in eighteen-point type, and slid it across the table. Two copies, one for each of them. “Sort of like a prescription drug addict going to seven different doctors to get his prescription. Hoping no one will catch on.”
Charlie glanced at the list of company names. Four with addresses, three were just names.
“Identifying the firm is one thing,” Keller said, as if anticipating his question. “The actual ownership, that’s something else.” Anna gave Charlie a sharp look. “A lot of companies hide behind a network of holding companies. From Liechtenstein to Panama to the British Virgin Islands. It’s gotten very difficult to track some of them. Or impossible.”
“Okay. So what can you tell us about these?” Charlie said.
“I’m getting to that. Your second question was about a company called VaxEze.”
Mallory nodded. The health consortium supported by Champion Group funds, which had hired Ivan Vogel. Investment funds supported by philanthropist Perry Gardner.
“They are part of this chain,” Keller said, pointing at the sheet of paper he had set in front of them.
“One of the seven,” Anna said.
“Correct, although they go by a different name now. VaxEze was purchased five months ago and merged with another firm, Wenders Pharma. The merged companies became a new entity called GenVac.”
They waited as he pulled out more papers.
“Last summer, VaxEze made a significant investment to quadruple its production capacity for anti-malarial medicines. The deal involved purchasing three modularized production facilities: one in Switzerland, two in West Africa. But I can tell you with certainty that what they have produced is not malaria vaccine. It’s mammalian-based flu vaccine. It’s what’s being shipped right now to various locations in Africa.”
“So this was in the works months before this flu virus appeared,” Anna said.
“Yes. That is correct.”
“What’s considered a significant investment?” Charlie asked.
“In the neighborhood of ninety million dollars,” Keller said.
“Where would they be getting that kind of funding?” Anna asked.
He began to smile. “Not one of your five questions. But let me continue, and I will try to answer that. Now, GenVac has an R&D lab and a manufacturing/shipping facility that appears to be producing flu vaccine in very large quantities. Its drugs began shipping six weeks ago to a health consortium that serves three African nations: Sundiata, Buttata, and Mancala, but primarily Mancala. I’m told that a subsidiary of GenVac won a several-million-dollar contract with the government of Mancala in July to produce and distribute a flu vaccine. They also purchased large tracts of property at several locations in the country.”
This confirmed what they had already learned. The three countries in the “emergency management plan.”
Keller continued, “Now, sometimes, in the course of an investigation, you get lucky. You find a connection that isn’t something you had imagined. I like the adage that the harder you work, the luckier you get.” He nodded at Charlie, trying to elicit a smile in return. “That happened here. As I was looking into GenVac, I found something else: a small, private research lab, which develops its own drugs and occasionally does contract research. According to my investigation, this firm developed and licensed the vaccine called Sera-Flu, which is what’s being shipped to Africa in large amounts now by GenVac. It’s based in Basel, Switzerland.”
Anna frowned thoughtfully. “Who’s behind it?”
“Who owns it exactly, I can’t tell you. It’s a holding company registered in the Cayman Islands. All right? But the scientists who are directing its programs, I can tell you. They include two former Russian molecular biologists who developed weapons-grade biological properties in Russia. Their names are Stefan Drosky and Dmitri Gregori.”
“Go ahead,” Charlie said.
Keller closed his eyes, nodded slightly and continued.
“Stefan Drosky is the head scientist. He also has an ownership stake in the lab. Drosky recruited several others, including Gregori. The lab he works for is called Horst Laboratories. It was acquired by GenVac recently. Now, here’s the interesting thing, and the main reason I was able to find this out: Drosky appears to also have interests in the black market. He’s basically an independent researcher and businessman, and he’s managed to establish a lucrative side market. A supply chain to distribute a generic version of this vaccine, which he is illicitly selling to a third party, a distributer known as Arnau Inc. The distributor is co-owned by Drosky himself. He thinks it will make him a very wealthy man, evidently.”
“Who is he?”
“Drosky? At one time, he was a lead research scientist with Biopreparat, the Soviet biological weapons program, as were two or three of those who work with him.”
“Any personal information on him? Background?” Anna asked.
“Some, but he’s very guarded. He left Russia shortly after the break-up of the Soviet Union, evidently. His father apparently once worked for Vector, which was the largest of the Soviet operations.” Keller’s eyes widened for a moment. “Oh, I did hear something else about him. Basel has a small red-light district. Drosky pays some of the women there to visit him at home. There’s more in here,” he said, tapping his index finger on a stapled report. “When the Soviet Union broke apart, the biological weapons program was largely dismantled, as you know. Many people lost their jobs. He was sympathetic to them and hired several for his lab.”
“Was Ivan Vogel one of them, by any chance?”
“No.” He frowned. “I’m getting to that.”
Third question: Ivan Vogel. The man at the center of his father’s inquiry, who had left the government to work for private industry. For VaxEze. The researcher who had also worked with Anna.
Gebhard Keller sighed. “Unfortunately, there is not much to go on with this question. Vogel was hired by VaxEze in late 2006. But then, according to reliable sources, he was in very ill health during 2007 and 2008. I can find no definitive record of him after that. He has a daughter in St. Petersburg and may have returned there. There are several accounts that he is there now, as you will see. A very secretive man, who left few impressions,” Keller added. “But bottom line, based on my research: I don’t think your Ivan Vogel is involved in what you’re looking into.”
“Fourth question,” he said. “Your key question, really.” He pursed his lips and seemed suddenly nervous. “The viral properties. The reason for all this vaccine.”
Charlie saw that his hands were shaking slightly as he pushed new documents in front of them.
“It might not be the only answer, but it is an answer. Stefan Drosky is also the scientist who developed the viral property, we believe. Under contract with VaxEze, and later GenVac. I’m told that small amounts have been produced at a viral plant in Basel, Switzerland. And these properties were shipped to Mancala in forty-gallon tanks, where it is now being stored.
“Which leads me to your fifth question,” he added, anxious, it seemed, to move on. “Is there any way of neutralizing this viral property.”
Keller had a trace of sweat now above his upper lip. Did he think they were going to harm him? That this information was too sensitive to allow him to walk away?
“Of course, the primary way of stopping its effectiveness would be the vaccine.” Charlie saw Anna shake her head. “But, of course, that isn’t your question.”
“No.”
“I spoke with a researcher familiar with bio-engineering of the flu virus. Not this specific case, but who has knowledge of a similar project. I’ve written out an evaluation that attempts to answer your question,” he said.
“How about a one-word version?” Charlie asked. “Yes or no?”
“In a word, yes. This sort of virus is obviously quite potent—but not invulnerable to intervention. I’m told Drosky’s project included an intervention mechanism—antibodies that attach to the viral agent and weaken or neutralize it, basically.”
“Plasmids,” Anna said.
“Yes. Plasmids. Good.” He forced a smile. A small sheen of sweat shone all of a sudden on his chin. “Antibody-rich plasmids with altered hemagglutinin could be introduced to the viral property and neutralize it. In theory, at least.”
“In reality,” Anna said. “We did it. But who has this capability?”
“I cannot say definitively,” Keller said.
“But you’re saying this plasmid could be used in effect to destroy the viral property?” Charlie said.
“Yes. There were a number of provisions for neutralizing it, including autoclaving. Another is for neutralizing it right in the tank. Two steps. First, you coat the tank with an aerosol form of this plasmid. Then you fire a missile-like propellant device into the tank, which introduces the plasmid to the viral agent.”
“Where would you get that? The propellant device?”
“It was in one of the plans I saw written up,” Anna said. “I don’t think it was ever actually manufactured. They called it a DPG: Destabilization Propellant Gun. It goes with the technology. A safety mechanism to neutralize the virus.”
“Actually, yes, it was manufactured,” Keller said. “By Drosky.” He looked at Mallory. “In my estimation, the answer to this question would lie with Stefan Drosky.”
Charlie thought about that for a long moment, figuring something. “What else do you have?” he asked, glancing in Keller’s briefcase.
“Reports. Pictures of some of the players. All of this I will leave with you, of course.” He pulled out a pile of papers, thumbed through it. “This is Gregori. And this is Drosky,” he said, handing Charlie photocopies. The quality was not good, but Keller had done thorough work. Charlie passed the pictures one at a time to Anna. “This is a GenVac production facility site near Lucerne. This is a storage facility in Mancala, which Drosky apparently owns.”
Charlie studied this last one. “Where the vaccine is stored?”
“That’s right. One of about six such facilities. The viral property is there now. Five weeks ago, they began shipping vaccine by train and tractor-trailer trucks to private and public health clinics all along the perimeter of Mancala. Literally millions of doses.”
“Why then?”
Keller tilted his head. “That’s another investigation. I can tell you this: since the regime change, a lot of land has been sold off, and a lot has been purchased by these health consortiums. The central government and military seem to be benefiting nicely from the purchases.”
Yes. Mallory had heard about that.
“President Muake has seized property in the southern part of the country. What is apparently a government-sanctioned version of ‘eminent domain.’ For quote infrastructure projects. And then he sold off much of the land for top dollar.”
Charlie heard a gasp. Anna’s face had gone pale.
“What is it?”
“This man,” she said. She was holding one of the pictures that Charlie had passed to her.
Keller frowned. “Yes, that’s Stefan Drosky.”
“No. It isn’t,” she said.
Keller reached across the table and took the picture from her hands.
“It’s not real clear but—yes.” He nodded, handed it back to her. “That’s Herr Drosky.”
“No. It isn’t. I’m certain,” she said. “That’s Ivan Vogel.”