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may crumble under the stress?”
    “No, but he might need a friend. Just like you needed A.J. when you came here.”
    David looked out over the moonlit water. A small boat cruised slowly through the harbor. “I’ll be sensitive to the situation,” he promised. “Thanks for the advice.”
    “The pleasure is all mine. Just one of my many skills.”
    “Yeah, but can you fill a coffee cup?”
    “What? You want me to refill our cups? I’m the one with a bum leg.” Kristen had been born with her right leg shorter than her left, requiring that she wear a custom thick-soled shoe. She walked with a slight limp.
    “Bum leg, huh. You forget. I watched you traipse all over Ethiopia a year ago. I couldn’t keep up with you.”
    “You still have to get the coffee.”
    David sighed and then smiled. “I think I’m being taken advantage of.”
    “You love it,” Kristen countered.
    He did.

    “Nice acceptance speech,” Jack LaBohm said as he turned to face his boss. The light of a dozen chandeliers that hung from the ceiling of the reception room in the five-star Walston Higgins Hotel in New York City reflected off her long, thick mahogany hair. Her brown eyes sparkled attractively. Her lips, brightened by a barely red lipstick, parted to reveal immaculate teeth. He had never seen her so beautiful. She was dressed in a long, clinging, yellow evening dress that rippled in effortless, fluid motion when she walked.
    Jack had watched as she mingled among a roomful of reporters and scientists. She beamed a smile at each person who caught her eye, politely shook any hand offered, listened to idle chat, and received buckets of praise. She was the consummateguest. Few would guess that she possessed a fierce determination and explosive temper that had left many who angered her quaking like a leaf in a tornado.
    “It served its purpose,” Dr. Elaine Aberdene replied, flashing the well-rehearsed, disingenuous smile. “It seemed to go over as planned.”
    “Better than planned, I would say. You had them eating out of your hand. May I get you some more champagne?”
    “No. I just want to get out of here.”
    “I would think you would want to eat up all this praise. Being named Scientist of the Year by
Science Review
magazine is pretty heady stuff. Great food, other scientists, an awards presentation, not to mention the big write-up in next month’s issue. Enjoy it. You deserve it all.”
    “I’ve won honors and awards before,” Aberdene answered coolly, her voice low so as not to be overheard. “This is just another one. An important one to the company, granted, but it’s just another award. How do you think it will impact the market?”
    Jack shrugged, then said, “Hard to predict. It will be good, no doubt about that. We should pick up half a point on Wall Street, maybe more, depending on how the news media handle it.”
    “They should be favorable.”
    “I think so. Finding an effective treatment for dengue fever is the kind of stuff that makes news.”
    “But not front-page news,” Aberdene said quickly.
    “True. Dengue isn’t much of a problem in this country, so the true impact of the work will be wasted on many. Pity.”
    “It is a pity,” she agreed.
    “Shame we can’t do something about that.”
    Aberdene made direct eye contact with her aide but said nothing. An unspoken message was conveyed in the simple glance. He was tall, with dark hair, hazel eyes, and a perpetual five-o’clock shadow. He was her facilitator. When something needed to be done in this country or on foreign soil, Jack LaBohm got it done. He was the man with contacts, the mover and shaker. He never questioned an order, never backed down from a confrontation, and never betrayed a loyalty—especially when it came to Dr. Elaine Aberdene and Aberdene Pharmaceuticals.
    “Are things going according to design?” she asked.
    “Everything and everyone is in place. It’s just a matter of time.” He raised the champagne glass to his lips and