“Well, that’s just it.” Brehmer leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “We don’t need your help anymore.”
As Carmen considered her response, there was a shuffling sound behind her. Khaan. Before she could react, he grabbed each of her arms. She tried to struggle free, but the man’s grip was too powerful. It was then Carmen noticed something about Khaan’s right hand — it wasn’t a human hand. It was prosthetic.
“I don’t like being played for a fool,” Brehmer said. “Did you really think you could outwit me?”
Carmen was about to speak when she heard someone else coming up behind her. A bag was pulled down over her head, and she felt a sharp sting on the side of her arm.
Seconds later, coldness swept over her body.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words never came out.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AFTER FINISHING BREAKFAST, Noah Lind sat back in his chair and thought over the latest developments. While it had been good to hear from Victoria, he was deeply concerned about Devon. His nephew’s disappearance wasn’t a coincidence, not in light of everything else that was going on. He almost certainly had been taken against his will.
As he took a sip of coffee, one question kept coming back. Who’s behind it all? Even though he didn’t know who they were, he knew what they were probably after — information on a specialized genetic engineering tool known as CRISPR. The acronym referred to specialized strands of DNA that scientists used to cut, or edit, other strands of DNA. The cutting process led some to refer to the specialized strands as molecular scissors. Over time, a number of practical applications were developed in relation to CRISPR, applications that included fighting disease, protecting plants, and producing food.
Dr. Noah Lind was the world’s foremost authority on CRISPR technology, and there were techniques that only he had perfected. His research was on the cutting edge, particularly in the realm of human application.
But there was a downside to his knowledge. Noah’s expertise made him a target of countless research organizations, particularly those whose goals were illegal or questionable. The perpetrators could be connected to a foreign government or a private organization. If it was a governmental entity, then a few players came to mind. The sophistication shown in finding Victoria suggested a larger nation was involved, or at least one with a well-funded team of hackers. China was notorious for stealing technology, but nations like Russia and North Korea couldn’t be ruled out either.
In terms of private organizations, there were too many to count. Noah knew of many companies that were on the cutting edge of gene editing. Most had no difficulty in carrying out the basics of the process, but there were always problems that required knowledge only Noah had.
The group looking for him had probably gotten close to a successful breakthrough only to run up against some insurmountable challenge. Given enough time, they could probably discover their own solution, but with a global race to apply CRISPR technology in lucrative ways, some companies might not want to wait. It would be much cheaper to find and bring in the man who already had the answers or could at least come up with one quickly.
After taking a final sip of coffee, Noah stood and took his plate to the sink. As he rinsed it off, he heard a sharp rap at his front door. Frowning, he looked at the time on his stove’s clock—10:03. It was too early for the agents to be there. He sometimes had goods delivered, but they almost always came in the afternoon.
He went to the front door and peered through the peephole. A man in a suit stood on the covered porch, his head turned in the other direction. Satisfied it was one of the agents, Noah unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door. The man turned at the sound. He had close-cropped dark hair, a chiseled jaw, and a five-o’clock shadow. His eyes were covered by aviator sunglasses. Straight out of central casting. He could have been pulled right off the set of an espionage film.
“Dr. Lind?” the man asked.
Noah nodded.
“I’m Agent Richards. I’m your ride this morning.”
Noah stepped out onto the porch. “You’re early.”
“I was pulled off of an operation in Haifa. Your safety is our top priority right now.”
Noah looked past the gated courtyard. A shiny black SUV was parked along the street. No one else was inside. “I was also told there would be two of you.”
“As I said, I’m the plan B.” The man pulled a phone from his suit coat. “If you’d like to talk to—”
Noah held up a hand. “That won’t be necessary. I just don’t like to get conflicting information.”
“Well, you’re in good hands now.” Richards looked at his watch. “Dr. Lind, if you don’t mind, we need to get moving. We have reason to believe your phone was compromised.”
Noah remembered the strange clicks he had heard the night before. He had thought it was the CIA monitoring its own call, but they were saying it might have been someone else.
“I understand. Just give me fifteen minutes to pack my other two—”
“There isn’t time. We need to go now. Once you’re safely out of the area, we’ll send in a team to get the rest of your things.”
Noah nodded reluctantly. He had already packed the essentials, so it wouldn’t be a big deal if he had to wait a day or two for the rest. “Let me get my bag.”
As Noah stepped inside, the agent remained on the porch, his eyes scanning the street. Noah felt his palms get sweaty as he walked to his bedroom. If the danger was that close, could one agent really protect him? The more he thought about it, the more pleased he was that they were leaving.
After retrieving his bag, Noah followed the agent out to the SUV. As they exited from the courtyard, he looked in both directions. There was a lot of traffic, and Noah half expected to see several cars screeching in from both directions.
“Do you have any electronic devices?” Richards asked when they arrived at the curb.
“Just my phone.”
“Put it in your bag.”
“I wanted to keep it with me.”
“You can’t. It can be traced. Anything with a signal needs to go in the protected compartment.”
He was right. They needed to do everything by the book. Nodding, Noah placed the phone in an outer pocket of the luggage. Richards then placed the piece inside a black metal compartment in the rear of the vehicle.
“I take it we’re headed straight to the airport?” Noah asked after Richards closed the hatch.
“That’s right.”
Richards motioned for Noah to get into the back seat. After climbing in, Noah noticed the SUV had been modified with a half wall that separated the front and back seats.
After sliding into the driver’s seat, Richards looked back. “Sorry, I need some privacy.”
He pressed a button on the center console, and a pane of glass rose out of the half wall. Once it was all the way up, Noah watched as Richards used a Bluetooth screen on the console to dial a number. A moment later, Noah saw the man’s lips moving, but he couldn’t hear what was being said. He was probably checking in with his boss.
After a short conversation, Richards started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb. He drove to the end of Rembrandt Street and turned right on Arlozorov. Noah sat back in his seat and tried to relax. He was safe. Depending on traffic, it would probably take forty-five minutes to an hour to get to Ben Gurion. Once there, he would be flown to Cyprus. The island state was situated in the eastern Mediterranean, which meant it would be a relatively short flight. Noah guessed he would be delivered to the safe house before dark, at which point he would request a conversation with the FBI. They needed to be involved in the search for Devon.