Chapter 32
Louis stared out of the window of the laboratory overlooking the terrace where Dora was feeding Dorian, their two-month-old son. Just a few seconds of admiring the scene was all he needed to continue his work. His eyes then shifted, beyond the terrace, to the cove of Copacabana beach and the rhythmic waves of the South Atlantic Ocean.
Dora and Louis had spent the first six months in Brazil changing home every three weeks, until Helena announced that their final destination was ready. To their surprise, they learned that their new home would be a renovated house in a favela, meaning the slums of Brazil. It was located on the slopes of Morro dos Cabritos, one of the mountains that surround Rio de Janeiro.
The favelas proved to be very organized communities, mainly controlled by the narcos, with full access to the infrastructure of the modern city. Built around the hills like Middle Age villages, they typically had a single entrance that led from the city streets to the maze of the favelas’ alleys. It was easy to transform the tiny towns into fortresses, making them inaccessible to hostile intruders.
Helena had restructured a set of houses, transforming them into a four-thousand-square-feet apartment spread out among several buildings, which also included enough space for Louis’ new laboratory. The most important people of the favela had all been put on payroll, so now Louis could count on a small army of five-thousand people to ensure continuous surveillance and protection.
He liked the new location, it was so different from the quiet and reserved neighborhoods of Zurich. The terrace, on the other hand, reminded him of 'Le Jardin' in Passoy. Dora also enjoyed their new life, and kept saying that it was the ideal climate to raise their newborn child. She was involved in the community, helping to run the local kindergarten at the entrance of their favela.
As for Louis, he was busy studying all the Telomerax strains that had been made. Counting the Indian imitation, there were now four versions around. His was still the best. He had managed to remove the carcinogenic effects that had caused the tumor in Helena, and Dora’s pregnancy had past without any issues. He had also discovered that the version developed by the company of Charles and George could still increase the chances of developing tumors. He was completing the analysis on the Indian samples he had received from Tarek the previous month.
Along with the samples, Tarek had also given him heads up to be prepared for surprise visits. Louis was about to restart the molecular analysis software he was using to test the Indian pills, when Jorginho, the head of his security team, called him on his walkie-talkie.
Jorginho was at the entrance of the favela, where an extremely fit, middle-aged man had shown up with an interpreter, and asked to meet Louis. The man had invited the security team to check him thoroughly, and from his behavior, Jorginho immediately understood.
“Olha, look, Louis,” said Jorginho, “there is some guy here who claims to be named Yaakov. He wants to apologize for being responsible for your move to Brazil and he says a man named Tarek wishes you and Dora all the best. This guy is some sort of professional agent, I can smell it. What shall we do? Kill him or send him away with a warning?”
Louis immediately wondered if Yaakov was aware of all the risks he was running.
“Jorginho, pelo amor de Deus, don’t jump to conclusions so fast. Just scan him with the metal detector, make sure he is clean, and take him alone to the bar of Lenilton Silva. I will join you there. For sure, I do not want him in my house. Please make sure you have three of your best people with you too, you guessed correctly, he is a cop of the worst kind.”
Half an hour later, Louis entered the small, windowless warehouse of the bar, where the air was suffocatingly hot. Louis invited Yaakov and Jorginho to sit down at a worn-out plastic table, while the security team stood at a distance, near the door.
“Welcome to Brazil, Mr. Yaakov,” started Louis, “I hope you have other reasons for your visit, beyond making sure I have been able to settle in here.”
Yaakov hesitated, as he quickly glanced at the bodyguards. Louis understood.
“You can speak freely, they do not understand English at all. Some of them cannot even speak proper Portuguese, as they grew up on the streets. What news from Tarek are you bringing?”
“In a nutshell,” Yaakov responded, “We need your help. By we, I mean the State of Israel. As you might know, I used to work in the Mossad, and we have been following you for years, therefore we know quite a lot about Telomerax. Last February, we tried to have a conversation with you but, I have to admit, it was not the right way to start a partnership.”
“Are you also responsible for setting my Swiss lab on fire?” snapped back Louis.
“No, we are not. We believe it was a CIA job, judging by the type of explosives used. Plus, the Swiss did not even try to blame this on us. Anyway, let me get back on topic. We know that this Telomerax is spreading like wildfire. We know there are at least three other strains besides yours and we need somebody that can help us. None of the big guys will cooperate with us, so you are our last resort.”
“How do you know that there are three strains of Telomerax? And why should I help you? Your first approach was far from charming, you even said so yourself.”
“Louis, let me make it simple. Tarek told us about the Indian strain. Israel and the Arab Emirates are both small countries at the center of much bigger interests, so as soon as Tarek learned that I had left the Mossad, after the Zurich failure, he contacted me.
I am a freelancer now so what I say does not involve my former employer, although I do still have strong connections and influence there. Anyway, here is the deal: you provide us scientific advice on the drug - which we do not want to manufacture by the way - and we make sure the CIA does not interfere too much with your life here. All the other countries, including China and Russia, cannot compete with the narcos influence here in Latin America, so if you keep the ‘gringos’ at bay you are safe. We have quite some influence in Washington D.C., and we also have a good network here. Originally it was to hunt for Nazi criminals in the past.”
Louis thought that this deserved some challenge.
“Yaakov, you should know that if something bad happens to me or my family Telomerax goes public. Why should the CIA or anyone else try to hurt me?”
“Louis, don’t you realize that the situation has changed? Those that control the three new strains hope that you keep it secret, to not derail their business. And they will react if and when you decide to take it public. You have the knowledge, we have a shield to offer to you and your team. It is an unusual alliance, but it is bound by the most robust glue; mutual need. Just think about it, Tarek knows how to reach me.”
“Alright,” Louis conceded, “so if I keep it secret, they won’t bother me. Then why should I help you? You see that I am very safe here.”
“You might be very safe, but not your loved ones. Not forever,” replied Yaakov calmly. “Could you hand me my bag for a second? You know there is nothing dangerous inside.”
Louis nodded, and Jorginho carefully handed it back to Yaakov. The three bodyguards reached for their guns. Yaakov slowly took out a few pictures, they were all of Dora and Dorian playing on the beach.
“All of these were taken from a number of hotel rooftops here in Copacabana, from a distance that can be easily managed by a sniper rifle. The only way to be truly safe is to live in a cave.”
“Are you blackmailing me, Mr. Yaakov? Is this what will happen if I do not cooperate?”
“Louis, please, don’t get too emotional. The terms of the deal are clear. If you help us when we ask, we will make sure that you and your loved ones are safe. Not only in this favela, but wherever we have influence and control. Otherwise, you will have to take care of security on your own and you now see how tough that can be. I think it is a fair deal. All we ask for in exchange, is some updates and some consultation. Anyway, I understand you might want to discuss the proposal with Tarek and your team first. If you agree, just send me a text message wit
hin one week, simply stating it is ok.”
“There is no need to wait one week. Just do not give me tight deadlines. I still need my freedom for research. And I want to keep a small production lab here, for the benefit of the people in the favela. I think you and your associates can survive with a small, independent producer in the market, with no other ambition than quality and research.”
“Absolutely, Louis. We fully acknowledge the value of having you alive and on our side,” Yaakov grinned.