The Click

The morning after learning about Nagasi’s disappearance, the papers from

Hitch’s desk remained on the floor reminding him of the setback. As he passed his office before exercising, he noticed the mail icon on his computation shell blinking. He trampled across all those papers to reach the icon. A note from Julian appeared across the screen along with three attachments. The note merely told him the attachments might be of interest and wished him luck.

He opened the first one which contained the CV of Dr. Elana Wu, Professor of Immunology at American University. She had been a Senior Associate under Professor Emeritus Barnaby Bloom before he retired. Elana Wu came from mainland China to attend George Washington University at the age of fifteen and was considered one of the rising stars in the biotech world. Her CV briefly described her as the chair of a program in which recombinant DNA techniques, cell fusion, and bioprocessing techniques were being used to alter organisms for specific purposes. A footnote to her CV boasted that she and other researchers successfully increased crop yields, developed more efficient biofuels, and improved medical diagnoses through genetic testing. It also mentioned her expertise on the interplay between DNA and vaccinated cells in the human body which Hitchcock highlighted in yellow.

That attachment also included a photo of Dr. Wu. “Humm,” Hitch said to no one in particular, “this should be interesting.” Hopefully she still looks like that, he thought to himself.

He opened the second attachment, an article on Professor Barnaby Bloom. According to the article, Professor Bloom was the leading expert in the world on vaccine chemistry and came from a rather famous family. Both his father and grandfather were Nobel Laureates in the field of Bio-Science.

The third attachment started with a note: For your eyes only – Julian. It was more like a dossier on Dr. Wu, clearly not something easily available to the public. After

leaving China to attend George Washington University, she remained a citizen of China and became a converted Ecclesian since arriving to America. Like most religious converts any and all criticism directed to ‘her church’ she considered blasphemous even though she had taught human evolution to graduate students. She was even more insistent in her conviction that questioning the government was something one didn’t do, certainly not in mainland China where she grew up and knew better—and not in her foster country either. Doing something wrong and being deported always danced at the edge of her thoughts and she made that clear to anyone who would listen. She also claimed that one day she would return to China to teach and take care of her parents, but then they died in an automobile accident.

Hitch finished reading this last attachment and then looked back at the first one including the photo of Dr. Wu. He shook his head and wondered how Julian was able to get all that information on her, then he remembered who Julian Iscar was.

Dr. Wu agreed to meet with Hitch, but the only time she had free was lunch on Thursday, her secretary informed him. If that worked, Dr. Wu would meet him at The Imperial Garden in Georgetown at one o’clock. He agreed. In order to even get that far, Hitch had to explain that his grandson was a Preemie and was hoping Dr. Wu’s expertise would shed some light on the situation. Even that didn’t seem to work until Hitch mentioned that Edna had worked as a research assistant in the Biotech department at American University some years earlier.

Hitch was early, as usual, but more so on that particular occasion considering the importance of the meeting, or so he hoped, and possibly because he was looking forward to matching the real with the photo. Upon arriving, he discovered a reservation had already been made in Dr. Wu’s name, clearly a regular in the very upscale Chinese restaurant. The hostess, an older Chinese woman, led him to a table in the back, away from most of the lunch crowd. Dr. Wu had not arrived yet but it was only 12:50. Just when he began checking his scud for messages, an approaching figure caught his eye. Her looks jolted him out of any other thoughts he might have had at that moment. She was stunning. Thin, but well built, taller than he had imagined. Absolutely beautiful.

Combining that with her obvious intelligence caused Hitch to remain spellbound as he heard her voice, soft but self-assured.

“Mr. Hitchcock?” She offered both hands, feminine but firm, her nails polished high gloss magenta, her lips a somewhat lighter shade.

“Everyone calls me Hitch or Oliver.” He stood to greet her.

“All right, Oliver. I am Elana, so please, let us both sit, eat, and talk.”

“It was very nice of you to meet, especially considering you don’t know me.” Hitch loved looking at her smile. It seemed so … so pure and cunning at the same time.

“But I do know you, or at least of you and I have always wanted to meet a real CIA spy. I’m afraid many of your exploits are public knowledge, Mr. Hitchcock … I mean, Oliver.”

“Retired CIA.”

“Really? You look too young to be retired.”

Was she flirting? Hitch sat up tall and smiled. “And you look too young to be a full professor and expert on the interplay between DNA and vaccinated cells in the human body.”

“Touché, she countered.

Just as they seemed to be trading flirts, the server, a young girl who looked very much like the hostess’s daughter, approached with two menus.

“I don’t think we’ll need those, SuLynn, Just a double order of the regular … oh, and bring us each a Naale.”

“A Naale?” Hitch asked as SuLynn left them alone.

Elana laughed. “A very strong Chinese beer from my home, Shanghai, and by the way this is my treat.”

By the time they finished lunch, six emptied Naale bottles sat on the table. Earlier formalities gone, there were periods of comfortable silence, as Hitch evaluated Elana, as Elana evaluated Hitch, or so he thought.

“So, as I said earlier, I am awfully sorry for your situation, I mean about Christopher but I’m not sure how I can be of much help other than to let you know what to expect.”

“Well, considering your expertise, what can you tell me about the ERAM-V vaccine, not just its makeup but like how it came about, into existence that is, and why there were people way back who believed …”

In mid-sentence, Hitch watched Elana stiffen as her eyes turned to the entrance of the restaurant. He followed her gaze and saw Oedipus and another thug even larger than him. Both were wearing VAMA leather jackets. Oedipus pointed to the back where they were and the two of them followed the Hostess to a table between them and the front door. Elana looked back at Hitch.

“I’m sorry, Oliver. What were you saying?”

“The virus … how it …

Elana began to quiver and the pitch in her voice increased, as if she wanted to be heard from a distance. “I’m sorry Mr. Hitchcock. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“But …”

“No. I can’t.” She quickly stood, stared at Oedipus and his friend, started for the front door, then quickly did a hundred and eighty and rushed out through the EXIT ONLY behind them. Oedipus’s companion jumped up from his table and started to follow her out. As he passed Hitch’s table, Hitch stuck out his foot causing the bruiser to trip and fall. He rose quickly and started for Hitchcock when Oedipus, through a hand gesture, signaled him to follow Elana; at least that’s what Hitch guessed. In the meantime, their server left him the check. He picked it up and walked over to Oedipus who was still sitting, watching, and dropped the check on his table.

“Give this to Janine. It’s the least she can do.” He started to leave but turned back after only a few steps. “The next time you want to run someone off the road, you might try autopilot. And given what I observed between your legs forget about ever putting the move on your boss.”

Oedipus started to rise. Hitchcock broke an empty glass on the table, pushed Oedipus back down, and put the broken glass to his throat. Their eyes met, anger in Oedipus’s, amusement in Hitches, which he hoped showed. After a few seconds, he dropped the broken glass in Oedipus’s lap and walked out as nonchalantly as someone fully satisfied with a great meal.