When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [85]
“A few weeks ago, a geneticist was killed in his bedroom in San Francisco. So was his live-in girlfriend. It was brutal and bloody. It was made to look like a burglary gone wrong. It wasn’t, though. This geneticist,” he went on, “had helped to discover a ‘promoter gene.’ The promoter gene was probably used at the School.”
I knew that promoter genes enable genetic material to be transferred from one organism to another. The promoter acts kind of like a key, opening a DNA lock, but it’s not an all-purpose skeleton key. Different promoter genes are required for each type of genetic alteration.
“Who told you?” I asked. And why couldn’t you have told me a couple of days ago, Kit? What else are you holding back?
“This has to come out my way,” Kit said.
I sighed. “Okay, do it your way.”
“Hopefully, when I’m done, you’ll understand.”
“Hopefully, I will.”
“The geneticist, a man named James Kim, had confided to a friend of his at MIT that he and a select group of biologists were part of an underground lab network. They were doing illegal experiments, but highly profitable ones. He was working with a team whose hub was somewhere in the Boulder area. The leak of information cost him his life. And the life of the doctor at MIT.”
“Wait, Kit, are you saying you knew that human experiments were going on?” I asked. “Did you know that before we arrived at the School? Please tell me the whole truth.”
Kit shook his head. “No. I didn’t know anything for sure. I came out here to find the underground research team—if they existed as a team, if they were here. I didn’t know if I’d find them, or what I’d do if I did. I still don’t. And I had no idea beforehand about the horrors we discovered at the school. Or about Max. Who could have imagined that? Who would have dreamed?”
I sat up straight against the uncomfortable backrest of rock. Suddenly, I wasn’t as tired as I’d thought. “Kit, will you tell me exactly what’s going on? I feel like I’m going crazy. I know my life is in danger. I know these kids are in grave danger, too. Just tell me the truth. I deserve that, don’t I?”
“I’m trying to, Frannie. It’s not black and white, though. Some of it is unbelievably hard to get at.”
“Why? Because you were such a good liar at first?”
He sighed and slowly nodded his head. “Yes, because of that. And because I don’t normally lie. And I guess, because of why I felt I had to lie.”
I felt my throat backing up. I couldn’t stop thinking about the terrifying crimes, the conscienceless murders, what I’d seen in that horrible pediatrics ward at the School. What was Kit trying to tell me now? What else did he know?
“Kit. Just. Talk,” I finally said.
He gave a deep sigh. “Okay. I believe that David was part of this. That’s why they killed him. Your husband was murdered by the people he worked with.”
“Oh God.” I realized that I was holding myself tightly with both arms. I’m just holding on, I thought. Barely. My head was reeling. Images from a year and a half ago were flashing through my brain. They seemed fresh and raw. David’s death. I was staring at Kit in the chalky moonlight in disbelief. I was in shock, and probably denial. How could David have been involved in something this bad? How could he have lied to me so convincingly and for such a long time?
“What else?” I whispered. I sensed there was more. I could see it in Kit’s eyes.
“For one thing,” he said. “I’m not here officially. The FBI actually pulled me off this case. And my real name isn’t Kit Harrison.”
Chapter 90
I FELT SO BETRAYED AND HURT. I wanted to run away from whomever, but I was too tired. Maybe I was in shock. I was also afraid… of Kit Harrison.
I could barely speak, but I managed a few words. “Please, leave me alone.”
“My name is—”
I waved him away. “I don’t care. It isn’t important.”
His temper flared suddenly. “I am from Boston. I worked in D. C. for a while, too. I was a senior agent with the FBI for twelve years. I was nearly fired off the job because I wouldn’t back off this damn investigation. I’m not supposed to be