Chapter 9
Bennet Estate
Hamilton County, New York
Although the anger Alexei felt from JD’s call came from being stuck in godforsaken Essex Falls without even a definitive idea when they were going to leave, the rush of concern came from something else entirely.
JD had invited Alexei to play basketball, an opportunity which Alexei truly appreciated as it was the sole extracurricular activity he’d been allowed by the commander under the very specific rules to limit their engagement.
The usual biweekly basketball had been a psychological lifesaving release for him from the boredom of being otherwise confined to the Bennet Estate.
The worry, of course, from Viktor and Nikolai’s position was that it could lead to someone questioning the group’s origin, which would raise some eyebrows.
With exasperation, Alexei looked over at Viktor and then at Dmitry Volkov and finally at Nikolai Petrov, the lieutenant.
All were in the Bennet barn toiling away in their makeshift biomolecular laboratory, setting up a final prion harvest to cap off their already totally successful proof-of-concept trial of theta prion as a consummate bioweapon.
Although they all had been busy, it was Alexei who’d done the lion’s share of the real work since he was the microbiological technician.
Although Viktor and Nikolai did indeed make the prion gene vector initially, from that point on it was all Alexei’s work.
First he’d used the vector to transform the yeast he and Dmitry had gotten in Albany, then he separated out the transformed yeast using the appropriate antibiotic, and finally he charged up the commercial fermenter, which they were using as a bioreactor, with the transformed yeast along with the required amounts of nutrients plus galactose necessary to turn on the inserted gene.
It was now up to the yeast to reproduce itself and then, thanks to recombinant technology, produce the theta prion protein.
How long it was going to take was up to the specific culture of yeast cells that had been transformed by gene vector and their specific bio-characteristics.
At that point there was little else to be done but monitor and control the temperature, pH, and carbon dioxide concentration and keep all three within certain narrow limits to let the yeast cells do their thing, which they were generally very capable of doing.
Racing around Alexei’s mind and raising his blood pressure was what and how much to tell the others about what JD had innocently mentioned during his call.
Following the usual details involving the time and location for the afternoon basketball, JD had casually mentioned that the organizing doctor, who Alexei knew as Dr. Bob, was particularly interested in a decent turnout of good players because another doctor friend of his from New York who was a well-known forensic pathologist was in town and was a good player himself.
“I don’t know what the hell a forensic pathologist is,” JD had said, “but I’m guessing Dr. Bob wants to impress the guy. ”
As a microbiological technician who’d spent some time in hospitals earlier in his career, Alexei knew all too well what a forensic pathologist was, and what immediately reverberated around inside his head was the disturbing chance this visiting doctor’s arrival might possibly have something to do with Ethan Jameson’s death.
There hadn’t been any fallout from Alexei using the Novichok Monday morning as Viktor had originally feared, but was that about to change?
The possibility had Alexei’s heart racing, making him wonder if he might be forced to use the Novichok again to give the group time to get out of the country.
“What the hell are you thinking about?” Viktor questioned with concern, yanking Alexei out of his momentary trance to find the commander intently staring at him.
“What’s wrong? Is something amiss with the fermenter?
” Viktor shifted his gaze from Alexei to the apparatus’s gauges while giving it several pats with an open palm.
It was an expensive but well-made fermenter costing more than six thousand US dollars.
“No, there’s nothing wrong!” Alexei repeated nervously. “The fermenter’s fine.”
“That’s a relief! But I have to confess; you had me worried there for a moment.
You looked momentarily terrified. To be honest, you are still a little pale.
Who were you talking with? JD?” From their first arrival in Essex Falls, Alexei had been the main contact between Ethan Jameson, John Daniels, and the Diehard Patriots.
“Yes, it was JD,” Alexei said, debating what to say to Viktor and what not say.
On Monday both Viktor and Nikolai had seriously berated him for using the Novichok without their authorization, reminding him over and over it had been brought only for extreme emergencies because if it was recognized by the US authorities it could cause a firestorm by implicating Russian involvement.
For the rest of the day, the self-styled Netherlanders had all nervously waited to see if there was to be any fallout, preparing to leave on a moment’s notice if there was.
Luckily there hadn’t been, and they had all been extremely relieved when JD finally called Alexei later that afternoon to inform him that the death had occurred and pesticide self-poisoning was considered the likely cause, which was what Alexei had suspected would be the case.
Alexei had known Ethan regularly used organophosphate pesticides similar to Novichok but a thousand times less potent.
“Did he say anything additional about Ethan Jameson’s death?” Viktor asked.
“Not a thing!” Alexei said. “He was calling to invite me to play basketball this afternoon.” Alexei silently and rapidly debated whether to reveal that a forensic pathologist was visiting the local doctor.
Quickly he decided to stay mum, thinking he’d play basketball and learn what he could about whether there was need to worry.
On top of that, with as wound up as he was, a good game of basketball would be enormously therapeutic, mentally and physically, and he didn’t want to deny himself.
“How did you respond?” Viktor asked.
“I said I’d play.”
“Under the circumstances I don’t know if that is a wise idea,” Viktor said.
Without another word to Alexei, he turned around and called out to get Nikolai’s attention.
Nikolai was busy preparing the fast protein liquid chromatography equipment to purify the theta prion protein in anticipation of a successful run with the yeast in the fermenter.
He looked up when he heard his name, and Viktor waved him over.
Viktor quickly explained the situation to Nikolai and then added: “What’re your thoughts on whether Alexei should play or not?”
For a few moments of concentrated thought, Nikolai stared so intently at Alexei that Alexei was forced to avert his eyes. Things were not looking good.
“I can make an argument both ways,” Nikolai said finally. “On the positive side it would be critical to know sooner rather than later if there was even the slightest rumor going around suggestive that Novichok had been involved in Ethan’s death.”
“My thoughts exactly!” Alexei said jumping into the conversation.
“It’s the main reason I want to play. The players are a varied group of locals, and between them, they know everything that’s going on in this shithole town.
If there is the slightest talk of Novichok being involved, at least one of them would know about it.
And, even under normal circumstances, I never say much when I play.
I just listen. If there is any suspicious talk, I’ll hear it. ”
There was a pause as the three people alternately looked at one another.
“All right,” Viktor finally said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Play! But keep your ears open! And to be on the safe side, we’ll keep the truck with us. We’ll drop you off and then pick you up when you text you’re ready.”
“That’s fine with me,” Alexei said. Although he preferred to drive himself, he was relieved to get permission to go into town and get in the game.
“Now let’s talk about the fermenter,” Nikolai said. “This is our final run, so why don’t use up all the amino acids we have. Wouldn’t that increase both the speed of protein synthesis and ultimately the output, even if only marginally?”
“Just the opposite,” Alexei said. “Yeast function best within very specific limits. Adding nutrients beyond the recommended amounts actually depresses their reproduction and ultimately protein synthesis almost as much as not enough.”
“Really?” Nikolai questioned. “That seems contrary to common sense.”
“But he’s correct,” Viktor said.
“All right, fine by me,” Nikolai said with a shrug.
Both Viktor and Nikolai returned to their previous activities, leaving Alexei suddenly becalmed.
Out of reflex he looked at the gauges on the fermenter.
All was in order, and suddenly he had absolutely nothing to do.
He checked the time. There were more than two and a half hours before basketball, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.
The interaction with Viktor and Nikolai irritated him as he detested their condescension.
It was always so obvious that they looked down upon him because they had PhDs while his education had been technical.
He’d never had the option of glorified academia, having grown up in a relatively small town called Staraya Russa.
Viktor and Nikolai, on the other hand, had been raised in cosmopolitan Moscow and Saint Petersburg respectively and had attended vaunted secondary schools and the best graduate schools.
With that irritating thought reverberating in Alexei’s mind, the coincidence of Staraya Russa being about the same distance away from Moscow as Essex Falls was from New York City suddenly occurred to him.
What made that idea so poignant was that in contrast to Essex Falls being a cultural desert and a backwoods wasteland, Staraya Russa had a rich, documented history of several thousand years including a deep connection to Russian Orthodoxy with its own cathedral.
Although Alexei was not religious himself, in sharp contrast to his parents, he respected religion for the rich contribution it added to Russian culture, and such thoughts just added to his homesickness, which aggravated his general boredom.