Read Online The Lazarus Moment by J Robert Kennedy - Free Book Online

are in use and nobody would let me book a meeting room for twelve
hours.”
    Morrison
chuckled. “No, I doubt they would.” Somebody shoved a chair toward him and he
sat. “What have you got?”
    “Thulas Zokwana.
South African national born in Nkandla on April 25 th , 1966, wife and
five kids.” Leroux tapped his tablet, bringing up a photo then flipping it
around for Morrison to see. “We’re pretty sure this is him. This is from a
driver’s license photo.”
    “How’d
you get that?”
    Randy
Child snickered. “Hacked their DMV.”
    Morrison
held up a hand. “What I don’t know, I don’t have to tell my boss. Any
red flags yet?”
    Leroux
nodded. “Yeah, he was treated for cancer in Moscow recently.”
    Morrison’s
eyebrows rose slightly. “Moscow?”
    “Yup.
Six months, apparently.”
    “Sounds
expensive.”
    “That’s
what the boss said,” laughed Child. Child suddenly blushed, eyes cast to the
ground. “Umm, I mean my boss.” He panicked. “I mean, not that you’re not my
boss, I mean—”
    Morrison
raised a hand, saving the poor kid. “I got it.” He turned to Leroux. “Do we
know why Moscow, and where the funds came from?”
    “Not
yet, but we’re digging.”
    “Keep
digging. I don’t trust anything that might link back to the Russians.”
     
     

 
     
    Air Force Base Waterkloof, Outside Pretoria, South Africa
     
    Thulas Zokwana smiled broadly as he shook President Starling’s hand.
The man was impressive, taller than he had imagined with a strong grip. One
that put his weakened one to shame. He had always been proud of his handshake,
it always firm, confident and dry, though after the past six months, he was a
shadow of his former self. His wife had barely recognized him, crying when he
had arrived. He knew she was happy to see him though the fear in her eyes was
obvious.
    And he
knew she didn’t believe him when he told her he was free of the cancer that had
riddled his body. His treatment had been experimental and only available in
Russia and China, it not yet approved in the West or in his country. The doctor
in Cape Town had said he would be dead within weeks without it, and even then,
the likelihood of survival was slim to none.
    He
hadn’t mentioned that part to his wife.
    Or his
cousin when he had reached out.
    President
Surty had surprised him by agreeing to a meeting. He had always thought him an
asshole, though he thought that way about anyone who was more successful than he
was, which unfortunately was almost everyone he knew.
    Zokwana
knew he wasn’t a smart man. He could barely read, his math was non-existent,
and he had never been much for skilled labor. But he was strong. Ask him to
move a pile of wood from one spot to another and he’d put his back into it and
get the job done without complaint.
    Unfortunately,
there were millions of men like that.
    Men far
younger than him.
    He had
always kept busy and always kept food on the table, though not much of a roof
over their heads. The shantytowns where they lived were miserable, things not
improving at all since apartheid had been swept away. The promises echoed
hollow now, though he hoped one day his children might do better than their
father.
    At
least they can read and do their math.
    “I
understand you’re a cancer survivor.”
    Zokwana
nodded, tuning back into the conversations, his cousin rattling off the story
of how he had used a special program he had created to send disadvantaged
people abroad for complex health issues their own system couldn’t handle. It
had turned into a quick pitch for funding that the American President politely
nodded at before returning his attention to the man whose hand he was shaking.
    “I am,
Mr. President. I just returned home a few weeks ago.”
    “And
you’re off already!”
    Zokwana
bowed slightly. “I am. I felt it my duty to try to raise awareness of how the initiative
started by my cousin—I mean President Surty—could save lives. A friend told me
that Kenya is