‘Is that type of gap usual?’
‘No, not at all. Our calls were not an everyday occurrence by any means, but I had certainly grown accustomed to hearing from him every week or so. When he told me it might be a while until we spoke again, I was surprised, but nothing about it made me think that he was in danger.’
‘He told you he needed to lay low for a bit?’
‘No, he simply said it might be a while until I heard from him again. There was no implication of a threat, nor was it something I inferred from his tone. I merely assumed he needed to focus on the latest project.’
Payne walked over to his printer, opened the drawer underneath, and grabbed the list that Dial had sent to him after their conversation. He returned to the breakfast table and handed it to Sahlberg. ‘Do any of these names look familiar?’
They watched his reaction in silence.
It was obvious that he knew more than one.
‘They’re all dead?’ he whispered.
Payne nodded. ‘Unfortunately, yes.’
He took a moment to absorb the news. ‘What would you like to know?’
‘Whatever might be helpful,’ Jones said.
Sahlberg started at the top of the list. ‘Viktor Eisen was a microbiologist. His area of expertise was genetics. He worked at Caltech in the eighties and nineties, at the heart of what would become monumental advancements in gene mapping and sequencing. They were the precursors to the Human Genome Project, not to mention their contribution to cloning techniques.’
Payne and Jones took particular interest in the comments. For years they had heard tales of secret, underground facilities conducting human experimentation. In military circles, the talk had always centered on biologically engineered super-soldiers — men who had been made bigger, stronger and faster. No one knew where the possibilities ended. There were even rumors of men who could see in the dark and whose wounds would heal themselves almost instantly.
Most people considered those tales to be speculative at best.
But Payne and Jones weren’t most people. They knew that the reality of such technology was much closer than was generally thought.
‘Stephanie Albright,’ Sahlberg continued. ‘She was a chemist. She was instrumental in the building of Berkeley Lab’s Center for X-Ray Optics. For the first time, science could take advantage of the XUV — a subset of the electromagnetic spectrum that covers extreme ultraviolet light to low-energy X-rays.’
‘And why is that important?’ Payne asked.
‘Light in the XUV can be used to manipulate particles at an atomic scale. Molecules and atoms too small to be altered with traditional tools.’
‘Let’s go back a second,’ Jones said. ‘You said that Eisen worked at Caltech, and now you’re telling me that Albright designed an optics lab in Berkeley. What’s the connection to the west coast?’
‘It’s not merely a connection to the west coast,’ Sahlberg clarified, ‘it’s a connection to a very specific pipeline of activity.’
‘I’m not following,’ Jones said.
‘Neither am I,’ Payne agreed.
‘All of these scientists — from Tomas right down to the last name on the list — all followed the same path at the beginning of their careers. All were lured to Pittsburgh by the prospect of funding, just as they were later enticed to California by the temptation of fame and riches. As for what drew them to Stockholm, I simply do not know.’
‘I’m confused,’ Jones admitted. ‘I know Pittsburgh used to be the steel capital of the world, but what does that have to do with scientific funding?’
‘Absolutely nothing.’
‘Then what did Pittsburgh offer that other cities couldn’t?’
Payne answered for him. ‘Jonas Salk.’
Sahlberg smiled. ‘That’s absolutely correct. When the polio vaccine was announced in 1955, Salk and this city were thrust to the forefront of the scientific world. Money rolled in from everywhere. It came from wealthy businessmen hoping to have their name attributed to a cure, from foundations established solely in the name of scientific discovery, from destitute mothers hoping against hope that their pennies would be the last contribution needed to finally cure whatever it was that was killing their children. The amount of money available was staggering. And your father was one of those leading the pack.’
‘Really? In what way?’ Payne asked.
‘In every way. He invested a sizeable chunk of Payne Industries’ capital in medical ventures. Not to mention vast contributions from his personal fortune. He also pushed his contemporaries at other companies to follow suit. He understood the implications of finding success, and he was willing to bet big. His interests were as diverse as his resources would allow.’
‘If things were so good here, why did everyone leave?’
‘Again, it all started with Salk. In 1963, he channeled the interest in his work — and the limitless financial backing that came with it — and established the Salk Institute in La Jolla. There he could offer the same resources with the added benefit of a southern California climate. His colleagues in Pittsburgh followed in droves. From there, they eventually branched out to other places, such as Caltech and Berkeley. Many of the others went on to their own laudable achievements as well.’
‘Why didn’t you follow them west?’ Payne wondered.
Sahlberg smiled. ‘There was no need. I had everything I could ever want right here. My lab, my house, and your father’s unwavering support. I wasn’t about to abandon any of it. Money and fame aren’t nearly as important as loyalty.’
37
Masseri was running out of men … and patience.
He knew more foot soldiers were only a phone call away — his employer had given him no financial constraints and an unlimited supply of men — but superior numbers had meant very little thus far. The man protecting Sahlberg, the so-called bodyguard, had been outnumbered at the Monongahela Incline, yet he had won the battle with ease. Not only had he killed several armed men, he had forced Masseri to eliminate two more at the police station. Yes, they were all expendable assets, but Masseri wasn’t comfortable with the way things were going. He was falling behind schedule. He wondered how many more delays his employer would tolerate.
He looked out over the city of Pittsburgh from the rooftop deck of his hotel. He knew that somewhere out there was the man responsible for his mission having gone awry. He was determined to understand exactly what he was up against.
Masseri pulled a tablet computer from his shoulder bag and loaded the satellite imagery of the city. It was the same feed he had accessed earlier on his cell phone, only this time the pictures weren’t streaming to the device with a noticeable delay. He was looking at a recording of what the satellite had captured over the last twenty-four hours.
The video of Sahlberg from the day before was just a small part of the broad view that the satellite was able to record. It was a focused close-up of one section of what was actually available. By adjusting the zoom, Masseri could pull back to reveal the entire city. From there, he could refocus on an object by simply pushing in on a different set of coordinates.
He couldn’t change the camera angle or tap into an audio feed, but he could examine any object that was visible while the satellite was recording. Using that ability, he started with the incident at the Monongahela Incline and worked backwards from there. He knew Sahlberg had made his way to the incline from his house. He also knew he had done so alone.
He wanted to know where the hero had come from.
Masseri watched himself walk stealthily, albeit backwards, towards the lower station. He watched the Escalade reverse away from the station, but not before the now-deceased driver of the sedan threw himself from the ground up on to the SUV’s hood. He watched the flanking henchmen rise up from the prone position and retreat toward the front entrance as the building itself sucked in the surrounding tear gas.