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Without warning, Locsin picked up a heavy metal desk with one hand and flung it at the wall as if it were as light as balsa wood. The loud crash stopped all work, and the scientists looked at him in fear.
Locsin, his face scarlet with rage, got nose to nose with Ocampo and screamed, “I don’t care about the details! What I want to know is if you can do it!”
Ocampo’s mouth was suddenly bone dry from terror. Finding a way to replicate the drug was a long shot at best, but there was no way he was going to say that. “With time and resources, yes. But I must have more of the drug.”
“And if there is no more to give you?”
“Then it will take even longer.”
“How long?”
“It’s hard to estimate.”
“And if you have more pills?”
Ocampo swallowed reflexively. “Three months. I feel like we are close to a breakthrough.” He caught one of his chemists, a woman named Maria Santos, eyeing him when he made that proclamation.
Locsin’s face instantly transformed. The furious expression was gone and a beatific smile took its place. He put his arm around Ocampo’s shoulder like he was an old friend.
“A breakthrough,” he said. “That’s what I like to hear. I knew I could count on you, Dr. Ocampo. However, I need the formula in two months, not three. I’m sure you can do it. We have a limited supply of pills, so I can’t give you any more, but I can bring in more people if you need them. Just say the word.”
The thought of dragging more innocent souls into this nightmare nearly made Ocampo shudder. He couldn’t bear the responsibility for that.
“Perhaps if you told us more about the drug’s effects, we could narrow our focus.”
“Your expertise is in the development of steroids,” Locsin said. “That’s why you’re here. You don’t need to know what Typhoon is for, you only need to make more of it.” He turned Ocampo toward him and looked him in the eye. “Now, if you can’t do it, tell me and we’ll shut down the project right now.”
Shut down the project. What a nice way of saying that he’d have them all killed and buried in a shallow grave.
“We can do it, Mr. Locsin,” Ocampo said reassuringly. “As I said, the breakthrough could come at any time.”
Locsin patted him on the back. “I hope my presence here has provided the needed motivation.”
“Of course it has.”
“Good. Now I’m going to get my breakfast. When I come back, I want a detailed report on how you plan to accomplish your task.”
Ocampo felt the blood drain from his face. “Yes, sir.”
Locsin and Tagaan left. Maria Santos jumped up from her desk and raced over to Ocampo.
“Are you crazy?” she said. “We’re nowhere close to a breakthrough.”
“But he doesn’t know that.”
“We might be able to come up with some kind of bogus plan today, but he’s going to find out sooner or later that we have no idea how to do what he wants. My guess is sooner.”
“I agree. That’s why we’re all going to escape from this place.”
“Escape? You really are crazy.”
Ocampo put his hands on her shoulders. “I already have an idea for how to do it. The only thing left is to come up with the proper distraction.”
18
The Halsema Highway, a mountainous route north of Manila, was considered one of the ten most dangerous roads in the world. Juan didn’t have to share that ranking with Beth and Raven. They could see for themselves how hazardous it was.
The winding route through the mountains of central Luzon often narrowed to one lane, which meant they’d had to back up hundreds of yards several times during the five-hour trip to let a bus pass in the other direction. The poorly maintained road was little more than a dirt path in some places, but the asphalt wasn’t much better because it could become as slick as ice in the frequent tropical downpours. Sheer, unprotected drops, landslides, and accidents in fog-shrouded conditions claimed dozens of lives every year. The PIG’s wide, self-sealing tires sometimes skirted the edge of five-hundred-foot drops, but Juan trusted Eddie’s assured driving skills, which were apparent when he had steered them around a pile of rocks from a previous slide and then accelerated to avoid a bus barreling toward them out of the mist.
