We have a steak dinner and beer in a fine restaurant across the street from the motel.
Marcos asks, “Do you do cleaning jobs often?”
“No,” I answer. “I never was a cleaner. The last time I did a cleaning job was so long ago, I cannot remember.”
Marcos says, “That hit was my last job, I am retiring. I’m going down to Mexico for a while. Then I may settle in Costa Rica.”
“That sounds good to me.”
He says, “How have you been doing.”
I answer, “Ok, The Controller has me pick up and deliver packages. Every week, I pick something up in Manhattan and deliver it to Midtown or Downtown. I keep an apartment in New York City. I meet the Controller there sometimes. I also bring documents to Philadelphia, Atlantic City and Washington DC. I drive from my New Jersey house to make those deliveries. The jobs are easy and not dangerous. I make a lot of money. I don’t make as much money as you and Alan do shooting targets. But, I make enough.”
Marcos says, “Do you meet the Controller in your apartment?”
“Yes, but not all the time. Sometimes I meet him in a restaurant or Central Park.”
Then he asks, “What do you do with all your spare time?”
I answer, “I take college courses, one or two classes each semester. I may be getting a regular job in September to fill up the time. I am tired of going to school. The students are getting younger and I am getting older.”
“What kind of work will you be doing?”
“Accounting work for a firm in Newark, New Jersey,” I answer.
On Tuesday, the fourth of June, I drive on Highway 10 from Phoenix, to Tuscan then over to El Paso, Texas. I enjoy riding near the Mexican border. I stay on Highway 10 and cut north on Interstate 20. I stop for the evening in Pecos, Texas. I like the big sky and rolling hills of southwest Texas.
On Wednesday, I drive past the oil wells in Odessa and Midland. I continue the ride through Abilene and stop for a coffee break at a McDonald’s in Fort Worth. I drive through Dallas and the highway changes to Interstate 30. Texarkana is where I stop and spend the night.
Thursday, the ride continues. I pass through the small town of Hope, Arkansas, the home of the President of the United States. Then I drive through Little Rock and the highway becomes Interstate 40. I chug across the Memphis Bridge and drive through Nashville, going all the way to Knoxville, Tennessee.
On Friday, June 7, 1996, I am back home in New Jersey. I enjoyed the ride through Texas immensely.
Chapter 36
Back to Present
On August 14, 2004, Danny emails me from Iraq. Now he is a qualified translator and interrogator for the army. I hope he does his job properly. It is not necessary to torture prisoners. There are always informants. It is easiest to pay the informant money and get information. A true believer is not going to talk even under torture.
Danny writes from Baghdad, “I am back in the Green Zone in Baghdad. Some of the marines and soldiers have been complaining about the siege of Fallujah, this past April, 2004. They were forced by the political authorities to pull out. The military people here say we are going to have to go back into Fallujah and clean out the city.” Danny continues, “Because the insurgents are killing many Iraqi civilians, we are beginning to get more cooperation and better information from Iraqis. Too many terrorists are coming across the border from Syria and Iran. There are not enough military personnel to control the borders.”
I write, “I am glad the government is training American soldiers, like you, to speak and understand Arabic.” It is not possible to fully trust a non-American translator.” I add, “There are not enough soldiers to control the border between the United States and Mexico. To lock down the borders of Iraq is impossible.”
In September, 2004, Louis sends an email.
“Greetings from Kabul, I am learning more about the Muslim religion. There are one billion Muslims in the world; ninety percent are Sunni Muslims. In Afghanistan eighty percent of the population is Sunni Muslim. However in Iran to the west the population is eighty-nine percent, Shia Muslim. The difference is the Sunnis worship the first four Caliphs as Muhammad’s successors. The Shiites recognize only the fourth, Ali as the spiritual head of state. The spread of the Islamic revolution comes from Saudi Arabia. The Saudi’s are Sunni Muslims. They follow a strict form of the religion named Wahhabism. The Saudi’s have funded Wahhabi oriented religious schools throughout the world. These religious schools are even in the USA.” Louis continues, “The Taliban are in the south. They are in Baluchistan Territory that crosses southwest Pakistan into Iran. Osama is supposed to be hiding out in the northeastern mountains between Afghanistan and Pakistan. Special Forces soldiers patrol that area. They come across some hardened, well, trained enemy combatants. Our soldiers have not found Osama or his lieutenants.”
I email back and write, “Osama is probably living in a decent home in Islamabad, Pakistan. No one in Pakistan is going to give up their hero.”
Louis answers, “When I have leave, the first week in November, Danny and I will be together in London. We are meeting with the financier of Roslyn Genetics. Seghar, Scotty and Mario will also be at the meeting. You are welcome to come to the meeting. The L&J Trust will pay all your expenses.”
I email again, “I don’t like to fly so I won’t be going to London. But I hope all you guys, have a good time when you visit blimey, old England.”
It is Saturday, November 13, 2004 (Eid) Al FITR, the end of the holy month of Ramadan. This day on the Muslim Calendar is the Festival of Sacrifice. Louis, Danny, Seghar, Scotty and Mario have just met the owner and chairman of Roslyn Genetics in jolly, old London.
Danny’s email reads, “The name of the chairman of Roslyn Genetics is Lord G.F. Richmond. He is a large man, not heavy. He is at least six feet four inches tall. He has thick, white hair. He appears to be in his early seventies. His skin is fair and unwrinkled. “He has a pleasant smile and looks like an actor. All of us are very impressed with him. Because we were all educated at MIT, he is interested in us. He has a specific curiosity for synthetic biology. He says with our computer, engineering skills and knowledge of biology we should be able to genetically manipulate bacteria to behave like machines. Lord Richmond said this has been researched at Universities in Texas and California.” Danny’s email continues, “When we return to the states, Louis and I have to report directly to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Then we go to Monterrey, California. Karin and Jean will join us in California for Christmas. You are always welcome.”
My email reads, “I am glad your meeting went well with Lord Richmond. I will spend Christmas with my cousin’s family in New Jersey. I will catch you guys on your return back east.”
I immediately do an Internet Search on Lord G.F. Richmond. Lord Richmond was born on December 21, 1916 in Paris, France. That would make him almost eighty-eight years old, not early seventies. His father was a Russia aristocrat attached to the embassy in Paris. His mother was an English Lady and distant cousin to the King. He was educated, as a boy, by private tutors. Later in his youth, he attended Oxford. At the age of twenty-one Richmond enlisted in the British Military. During World War II he served as an officer in the British Special Forces.
I find his biography to be very sketchy. There is no picture of him. There is no mention of his military unit or rank. It gives a listing of corporations, banks and charities he has been associated with during his business career. He does not have a wife or children.
It is Wednesday, February 9, 2005. It is both Ash Wednesday and Chinese New Year. Louis sends me an email from Washington, DC. Louis says, “Danny and I are going to be attached to the Pentagon. We are going to return to the Middle East in a few days, probably Qatar. We will be together. Our tour will be four months. We have both received the rank of Captain.”
Louis continues, “Lord Richmond has invested another two million
dollars for research in Molay Biotech Inc. Mario has been designing complicated biological circuitry. These Biobricks, strings of DNA, are programmed bacteria. The programmed bacteria may lay dormant in a cell. If the cell becomes cancerous, the programmed bacteria, turns on and stops the cancer. Seghar and Scotty are developing vaccines. They have developed one vaccine that is specific for the bird flu virus that is starting to spread from Asia. They have to find a quick and inexpensive method to manufacture the vaccine. The money from Lord Richmond will benefit this research tremendously. We would like you to be a part of this research. Would you be interested in doing a statistical analysis for us?”
I email, “Sure, whenever you want, I will do the analysis. Have a safe trip.”
In early May, 2005, I receive an email from Seghar.
He writes, “Lord Richmond will be at a meeting in Washington, DC from Tuesday, the eighteenth of May through Saturday, the twenty-second of May. He has some documents that he wants to hand deliver. He will be unable to come up to Boston. Scotty and I are in the middle of research work. Would it be possible for you to pick up the documents on Friday, the twentieth of May? He will be at the L’Enfant Hotel. Are you familiar with the hotel and Washington, DC?”
I write, “I will be there.”
On Friday, May 20, 2005 I take the Acela Express train from Metro Park in New Jersey. I reach the hotel at 3:00 PM. At 5:00 PM, I call the room of Lord Richmond.
He answers, “Hello.”
I say, “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes if that is OK with you?”
He says, “See you.”
When I see Lord George Foster Richmond he walks up to me and shakes my hand. He looks good for eighty-nine years old.”
I say, “Do the boys know that we know each other and that I worked for you my entire adult life?”
The Bear answers, “How could they possibly know?”
Then he says, “Do Danny and Louis know who you are?”
“Yes, I am pretty sure they know who I am.”
The Bear asks, “Tell me about their mothers.”
I say, “I knew their mothers. In January, 1973, I was a permanent substitute teacher in a high school in New Jersey. In the evenings, I took some psych classes in Jersey City. I enrolled in an abnormal psychology class on a Monday and Wednesday nights. I also had a social psychology class on Tuesday and Thursday nights.”
I continue. “Danny’s mother was in my abnormal psych class. Her name was Valerie. She was a senior and graduating from the college in Jersey City in June. “Valerie was a premed student and was going to start medical school in September. She was to be married upon graduation from college. She told me that she was not sure she wanted to be married.”
I say, “Louis’s mother’s name was Rita. She was in the social psych class. She was graduating City College in Manhattan at the end of the semester. She picked up this extra psychology class in Jersey City. She told me it was easy to take the Path Train from New York City to Journal Square in Jersey City and take the bus down Kennedy Blvd to school. Rita told me she was pretty sure she was getting a job, teaching elementary school in Manhattan in September, 1973. She told me her boyfriend was in the army and wanted to be married before going overseas. She was not sure she wanted to marry him.” I speak some more, “The early seventies was sex, drugs, rock and roll. A glass of wine, a joint and a half Quaalude and things happen. By the way, the girls did not know each other.”
The Bear asks, “Did you ever see them again?”
I answer, “I went back to Mexico in the summer of 1973 and did not see either of them for many years. I met Valerie at a New York Hospital in the spring of 1980. I was with my cousin Nicky. He was having an interview for an externship at the hospital. Valerie told me that she was in her second year of residency. She started medical school one year later because she had a baby. She said her husband had died. She asked me how I was. I said fine. That was the conversation.” I continue, “I ran into Rita a few weeks later in a nightclub on Forty Ninth Street. She was with a boyfriend. She told me she was teaching grade school over at York Avenue and Seventy-Eighth Street.”
The Bear says, “Isn’t that where you had the apartment?”
“Yes. When I got the apartment on Seventy-Eighth Street, I went into the school and asked if Rita was teaching there. The office told me she was teaching at another school on the Upper East Side.” I continue to talk, “Rita told me her husband was killed in Vietnam. She said she had a six and a half year old son named Louis. Rita introduced me to her new boyfriend but I don’t recall his name. That was the last time I saw her.”
Then I say, “In early 1997, I would see Danny and Louis running together in Central Park. Occasionally I’d see them on the subway. When I went for an interview at L&J Incorporated they knew me. I thought they might be brothers or cousins when I met them. After time passed, they told me about their mothers. When Danny and Louis met at MIT, they must have noticed the resemblance to one another. I suspect their mothers told them something at that time.”
The Bear says, “Then by random chance, in 1998, you walk into their office for a job?”
I answer, “Yes, just random probability.”
He says, “Do you really believe that?”
I answer, “I had a couple of acquaintances that I would see during races in Central Park. I mentioned that I was looking for an accounting position. One young woman pointed to Danny and Louis after a four miles race. She told me the name of L&J Incorporated and that there was an advertisement for an accounting job in the newspaper.” She wanted to introduce me to them on the spot. I said. ‘Don’t bother the guys. I will check out the ad. If I am qualified, I’ll apply for the job.’ I guess that is not exactly random probability.”
The Bear says. “I always paid you a lot of money. You did not need a job.”
I say, “I needed to keep busy. I did not like waiting around thinking.”
The Bear and I walk from the L’Enfant Hotel to the Washington Memorial.
He says, “What a shame. Such great men such as Washington, Franklin and Jefferson founded the United States. Now you have a government controlled by money from Arab oil sheiks and lobbyists. The politicians are a greedy lot.”
I say, “Look at the leadership in Europe. They were all on the take from Sadaam. With the exception of Great Britain, the USA doesn’t have any powerful allies in Europe.”
Then I ask, “What will the future bring?”
The Bear says, “The Middle East will explode. It may take a few more years. The mullahs in Iran are getting ready for an apocalyptic battle. They just about have a nuclear bomb.”
I say, “If I were Iran, I would definitely want a nuclear bomb. Pakistan, India and Israel all have nukes. It is natural for a country to want to protect its people.”
The Bear continues, “When Iran gets a nuke, Israel and the US will have to blow up the facilities. The Muslim world will explode. There will be an uprising all over the Middle East, Indonesia, Europe and even the United States. An entire division of terrorists may have crossed the Mexican border into this country over the past ten years. There will be trouble in the cities of the United States.”
I say, “I read a book that say’s the Oklahoma City bombing was an Iraqi intelligence operation. They found a disgruntled American and used him.”
He says, “That sounds true. The bomb was the same type that blew up the Kohbar Towers in Saudi Arabia, on June 25, 1996. Also, Iraqi intelligence helped finance the first World Trade Center bombing in 1993.”
I am thinking, “To paraphrase a song from the movie, Chicago,” I say, “Then Iraq, had it coming.”
The Bear laughs and says, “But of course.”
After some time we reach the Lincoln Memorial.
The Bear says, “What a pity that this country had slavery.”
I say, “That should never have happened. However, presently, are
n’t most people economic slaves?”
He says, “Most people are robots. They are part of a great machine.”
I say, “I’ve always felt like a robot, a genetically programmed killer. You put a gun in my hand and I pull the trigger. It is a reflex action to me. It always has been.”
The Bear says, “You did not kill at random. Your targets were the really bad guys. He continues to speak, “Do you have any remorse about the things you have done.”
I answer, “You are the Controller. You gave me the targets. I have no remorse about the killings. I was doing my job. That’s it. As far as my normal life goes, I always minded my own business, did not bother anyone and kept my mouth shut.”
He says, “You killed a few people on your own.”
“Yeah, but they had it coming.” I laugh.
We continue our walk toward the Vietnam Memorial. I say, “There are 50,000 names here. What did they die for?”
He says, “Soldiers die in war. In past history, a war was fought to win. Genghis Khan or Attila the Hun killed the enemy and conquered the land. World War II was fought to win. Korea, Vietnam and Iraq are wars of containment. A war of containment cannot be won. Over time if Iraq survives, it will be split three ways. The Kurds will control the north, the Sunnis the central area and the Shiites the southern part of Iraq.”
Even though it is early evening, it is still light out. The Bear hails a taxi and we go to a seafood restaurant. We both order salmon fillets, rice, and salad and Merlot wine.
At dinner I ask again, “What will happen in the future? The world is falling apart.”
He says, “Russia and China can line up with Iran against the USA and Europe. If that happens, we get an all-out nuclear war.”
He continues, “If I were you, I would not live on the east coast or the west coast. I would move to the Rocky Mountains.”
I answer, “I may do that.” I change the subject and ask, “What about the documents you have for me.”
He explains, “I will give you the documents when we return to the hotel. Those young guys have a great deal of talent. When they have the vaccines fully developed, I am going to make sure that the vaccinations will be available to the public. I have a company in Canada that will manufacture and distribute any vaccines Molay Biotech Inc. produces. I will keep this out of the hands of the major pharmaceutical companies. Those companies will delay the process. The documents contain information about the cost structure for the manufacturing and distribution of the vaccine.”