In Vol 1 of Catching Cold-Breakthrough, I wanted to give the lay reader the chance to understand viruses and the immune system, while also showing them that scientists are not automatons but people with a full panoply of problems. I conceived of this book in 2015, well before most people learned the distinction between an epidemic , and five years before 2020 and Covid -19 which by then most folks wished that they had never heard of viruses and the immune system!
I don’t anticipate that his this would be a three book volume, but having learned the lesson of Saving Grace, my first novel, and fleshing out my characters’ strengths and weaknesses. I realized they it would take more than one book contain them. They were so real, with their peccadillos and foibles, and endearments that it was them that encouraged me to write more.
Doctor Jon DeLeon, an inspired scientist plagued by emotional addictions, believes that he can cure the common cold. A motley group of eccentric and intense scientists under the name of his fledgling company CiliCold stumble, fight, and work together to test Jon’s hypothesis. These efforts lead to repeated failure, and their support team becomes disillusioned by the repeated difficulties.
Attorneys Jasper Giles and Cassie Rhodes, ruthless defenders of the SSS Pharmaceutical Company, learn of Dr. DeLeon’s ideas through the brutal deposition of CiliCold’s ex-accountant. Intrigued by the promise of Jon’s work, they infiltrate the company to learn that Jon’s imminent emotional collapse and financial ruin blind him to the crippling assault the lawyers are prepared to unleash. Only the final staggering observation of Jon and his team, together with the dogged resistance of another takeover target of SSS, can possible preserve the finding of overwhelming scientific significance for which no one is prepared.
This novel focuses on behavioral disorders, emotional interactions between scientists and immunology. It demonstrates that scientists driven by intellect but riven by emotions are the most interesting of people. The public will also realize the impact of viruses on their daily lives and the need for vaccines and treatment.The work focus on Jon and his arch nemesis at SSS each fiercely focus on their mission, yet each is crippled by the emotional fall that awaits them
.Jon is crippled by his emotion need for connection. He puts the energy of his life into the attachment to his separated wife only to be riven by the collapse of his hope in their future.
Scientists, alone on their isolating islands of intellect, blunder alone through the blinding fog of sex, affection, and acceptance.
On Monday, December 27, 2015, Dr. Jon DeLeon leapt into this haze for his
Alora.
The 39 year old ex-university scientist let the smartphone’s display pull him into her picture, the one where her dark hair flowed like a river of redemption. He closed his eyes, smiling as she roamed through him, seeking out his dark passages. Lighting them. Cleansing them.
Forgiving him.
Two months after a six year marriage crashed, he and Alora were still talking, still laughing, still teasing.
And here she was.
Calling him.
Their relationship flowing into new, deeper waters.
Tapping “Accept,” he disconnected the reporter who’d been spewing empty queries about Jon’s work into his ear like a hose sprays mist over baking summer pavement, the tiny question-droplets evaporating before they hit the hot surface.
“Alora,” he said, his hands gripping the old droid tightly as if, all at once he was holding her the way that she loved. Making her gasp, followed by that delicious double-inhale. “I have an audience waiting out there for me, but I’d rather listen to you.”
Her voice with its sweet hope landed, then glided up the abandoned road to the heart of the award winning scientist. “Well, guess what, Dr. DeLeon?” she asked, laughing into his ear. “Aaron and I were engaged today. And do you”
“I –”
“know what else? I’m having his baby. We are–”
The world went white hot.
At once, the Professional in Jon took control. That’s my voice speaking, he thought. Congratulating my ex-wife. Why no, my voice said, sounding more and more distant, I had no idea you were close to anyone when is the date yes congratulations great news ok gottagobye.
Jon disconnected the call just as the swell of feelings knocked him up and off his mental feet. His mind, spinning both left and right at once, disoriented and subdued him, making him an easy target.
No time, the thin scientist thought as he dropped down onto the cold floor, jamming his back against the dirty wall of the dim church hallway. Head up, sandy brown hair drenched with sweat, he whimpered,
“Jesu−”
The second emotional blast wave slammed home.
Paroxysms of emotional pain surged. Eyes saw nothing. Jon’s left ring and small fingers, instantly plugged into an electric-emotional circuit, went numb, the paralyzing voltage flying through them, severing the scientist from himself.
Adrift, the nationally recognized scientist writhed in emotional agony.
The disintegration took a single second.
John’s behavioral destruction was immediate and physical. And there was something he learned. He worked for most. of his life. Yet he continued to put himself in circumstances where he was on the brink of this almost every day of his life.
Now look at Cassie Rhodes from the view of an expert witness on the stand.
Now look at Cassie Rhodes from the view of the wife Janet Franklin, of an expert witness on the stand. that Cassie just destroyed
As the courtroom emptied, Janet Franklin, shaking with rage, humiliation, and despair, stood up and walked toward her husband.
“Ms. Franklin?”
She turned, almost losing her balance as the high heel buckled under her.
Cassie Rhodes towered above her.
Janet, her heart pounding, her head throbbing with rage, said simply, “Yes.”
“Ms. Franklin, I can put you in contact with a very good attorney skilled in navigating through divorce proceedings if you are interested.”
Such cold eyes, Janet thought. She turned to look at her husband, who had staggered down from the witness stand, and with both hands extended and resting on the jury box, was hanging his head. To her, he looked worse than worn. He looked like he had lost the fight of his life.
And, she noted with a gasp that he now looked like an old man.
She spun. “Go to hell, Ms. Rhodes. That was my husband whose career you just assassinated. Whose reputation you just destroyed. He and I have been married for 45 years. We have inflicted more pain on each other than that stupid brain of yours, full of legal stunts and meaningless minutia, could ever imagined.
“We would have worked this out.” she said, stomping her foot. “Now,” she drew back from the attorney to gaze at her broken man, “you have ruined him.”
Janet saw the coal eyes just stare back at her.
“Don’t be such a mouse, Ms. Franklin.”
Janet, leaning into the taller women, her wrinkled face barely reaching Cassie’s smooth and flawless chin said, “Do you have a son?”
“No.”
“Good, because if you did, he would eat dog food.”
Janet didn’t yelp, nor did she cry when she felt the smack of the attorney’s hand across her face. She did hear the gasps of those who were still left in the courtroom, then heard nothing as the courtroom fell silent.
“You’re an animal,” Janet said as she pushed her way past Ms. Rhodes, heading to her husband. “A wild animal. And wild animals get put down.”
And here is one of her reduced state
“No shit,” he said. “Can we sit for minute?” “It’s lunchtime. Let’s get something to eat.” The notion of absorbing a company like CiliCold wasn’t new, she thought. Big companies swallow little ones all the time. But, if her preliminary conclusions held up, it would be transformative. Like moving from renting cars to building them. Or like moving from Maryville, Washington to Chic–She killed the thought before it finished.
“There,” she pointed.
They cut left across the foot traffic to the Green Turtle at the beginning of the wide concourse with its short ceiling.
Did Jasper just head fake you? She blinked twice at the thought. But, like a hooked fish, she couldn’t shake it. I bet he does know. His rule was “always know more than the other jerk.” Maybe I’m the other jerk, she wondered. I should have pushed him harder. Jasper began to walk to the closest table.
“Let’s not sit here,” she said, turning from the table. “It’s too close to all of the foot traffic.” She twisted, then pointed to a small empty table nearer the bar.
“How about there?” If I bring it up again, she thought, he’ll get suspicious. He may be suspicious already.“Kinda far, but whatever,” he shrugged. Once they got to their new seats, she sat down and released one shoe from her heel, letting it dangle back and forth from the foot of her crossed leg. Stop beating around the bush, Cassie. Just fuck him for the information.
An internal explosion went off in Cassie. OK, her thought stream continue. I get that that was your first reaction. But seriously. He probably has a lot more of the information that you need about CiliCold. You know you won’t outsmart him.
Cassis shuddered as she look for a waitress. And, he’s always wanted to fuck you. God knows he’d tried God knows how many times. Look, you’re out of options. Embrace the horror for just a night to finally, change your caree–“
Tanner shareholders staying in line?” Jasper asked, jarring her out of that terrible thought-train. She saw something like blessed relief cross his face when he deposited his great mass on the thin wooden stool.“
There, uh, there was, uh, some noise at the meeting,” she said, leaning across the table, “but–”She fell silent as he waved a hand at her. She watched him bring his massive head closer and closer to the menu, like he was going to eat it. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, grabbing the wrist of the hostess who was just to his left. “How about a double burger with everything on it. And a beer.” He shot a glance at Cassie.
If I do this, his hands will always be all over me, wanting more, he thought. Maybe you haven’t noticed, Cassie, but he’s been leering at you, and touching you for years. Besides, afterwards, maybe he’ll stop. You never know…“I think, uh, I think a Cobb salad is fine with me,” she said, shrugging. “Thank you sir,” the hostess, wearing a white blouse and short black skirt said, pulling her wrist free. “I’ll tell your waitress.”
“Doesn’t matter to me who you tell,” he said, shoving the menus into her hands. “Just get us our food. Unlike you, we don’t have all day to hang out at this shithole.”
Cassie watched him turn away from the hostess who walked off, directing his gaze to her. No way I’m doing it. Then it’s my sad duty to inform you that you are stuck. The CiliCold opportunity will fly by, and you’ll stay in litigation until they put you out to pasture. And, while you’re drooling on your spaghettios in the nursing home, you’ll remember with your last brain cells that you had a chance to finally do what you wanted to but gave up. You’re the worst type of quitter − a coward.
“It’s not about the individual shareholders much anymore. Besides,” he said pushing back from the small table as the waitress arrived with their meal, “we don’t need them.”
“Of course we need them,” Cassie said, turning her face from him. “You just said so this morning. We operate on the money they provide.” Besides, look at him. Can barely walk. The geezer will probably be happy with just a blow job.
“Used to be that way, sure, but not anymore. Time was when the long term shareholders were the basis of our operation. But two new things are now in the picture. First. the banks.”
“You’re making no sense, Jasper.” He leaned over to the left and for a moment and she thought he was going to grope another hostess who walked by. He will want much more than to be blown, her mind asserted.Then give it to him. What are you? A virgin?
“We both know we borrow from banks. Always have?” Probably wants anal. And maybe you’ll like it. “Listen to me, Cassie.” As he bit down, she saw a piece of hamburger coated with yellow mustard dart out from between the buns onto his tie. Goodness, he was already half done with the mess on his plate that three minutes ago was a burger. “They’re now part of us.”
No way I’ll do this, she thought. It’d be like eating a live rat. As bad as the first bite would be, you know it will just get worse.Then don’t marry him. Screw him, learn what you need to learn, then leave. Won’t kill you. Plus you still have your methiolate, right?
Cassie didn’t touch the salad that sat in its clear bowl in front of her. She always carried a bottle of methiolate in her purse. The mercury containing compound would make her ill at once. It was an ICE that she never wanted to use again.
“Of course banks loan to us. Commercial paper plus long term,” she said. And maybe he’ll give me no new information, she thought.“You’re the one who said you need more info. Not me. I’m just saying that this is how you get it.
“Forget loans. Cassie. Banks now invest in us. JP Morgan, Morgan-Stanley, Bear-Stearns before they got gobbled up. BOA.” And, by the way, Cassie girl. It’s got to be tonight, right? What? Do the math. You’re both in the same town, and no late meetings. Plus you need the CiliCold info pronto, right? She felt all twenty-two feet of her bowel squeeze.
“You with me?” she heard him ask“ I know you’re not saying that individual investors don’t matter much anymore,” she said. He raised up and she swore he was farting. She closed her eyes. I just can’t see it, she thought. I’m not saying that a picture of you two fucking should be hung in the Louvre. Just do it, learn what you need, and get out.
“They matter more than ever,” he said, gulping down his beer. “But not the way you think.” He shot his chair back on the tile floor, almost hitting a black woman and her toddler. “I’m ready to go. Are you?” She took a sip of water, and stood as well.
“You got this?” Jasper asked, glancing at the bill, then looking at Cassie. “Sure, why not?” She shrugged. Should have made him pay, considering you’re giving it up to him tonight.
“Let’s catch a ride out of security today,” he said, flagging down an electric vehicle. “It’d be good if I got off my feet.”
Not tonight, not ever, she thought. Fine. Don’t. Don’t learn what you need to about CiliCold. Miscalculate and lose the opportunity of your career.
He climbed up, and onto the cart, his weight swinging him first backwards, then left. Cassie walked around to the other side of the cart and got in, next to the carry-on luggage that he placed between them. You have never shrunk from doing what you needed to do. Never. And you have survived and succeeded. And here, at the endgame, when you are so close to becoming a corporate player in your own right, you quit? One damn night is all. Fuck him hard. Give up tail, rather than tuck it and run back to litigation.She coughed to hide the heaves rolling through her.
“Cassie, maybe you’ve been spending too much time in the acq side of events,” he said wiping his face with his hand, “but things have radically changed. This is 2016, not 1996….” You pride yourself on being practical, right?
Then be practical, Cassie.There’s practical and then there’s stupid, her mind, reacted. And stupid is not getting what you need
“.…Now, we don’t even need much in the way of shareholder money at all to operate. We can run all of our deals on what we retain from our profits and also the investment bank money. Shareholders still provide us dough, but it’s the short term investors that get us the maneuvering money we need,”
All you have to do is say ‘yes’. He will make all the arrangements. You know that. Go along for the ride.For a night, to save the rest of your life.
“You mean the folks who sit around in their underwear and bathrobes all day trading in and out of stocks? You can’t be serious.” More robe-a-dope she knew, but he was buying it.
“The very ones,” he said. He burped, and it was all Cassie could do to keep a straight face through the beer and hamburger odor that enveloped her. Cassie, the calculation works. Why are you resisting?
“Way back when you were in school out west,” he continued, “shareholders held onto their stock for six years or so. Now, they hold it for six weeks. Or six hours. For us, that means people are always buying in, and that’s what keeps us liquid.”Let your future open. Just like before.Yeah, to this despicable place, she thought.
They arrived at the end of the secure area. “Another nice thing about these ‘churn and burn’ folks is that they don’t want to give us advise on how to do things,” he said, disgorging himself from the thin seat.
“Good thing, because their advice is atrocious.”I’ll go to hell before I do this. You’ve got a ticket already.He nodded. “These short timers invest to make money. Not to demonstrate how inept they are in understanding our business. It’s one thing for someone to buy $20k worth of stock. But to think that the same clown who sits for ninety minutes a day on the TriBorough Bridge on the way to his Kew Gardens dump of a walk-up can tell us how to spend those funds is a joke. We don’t need their advice. We just need their money.”
Look at how sick you are of what you do. Break out. Forever.
“And they make it back when someone else buys their shares.” “Yep. They’re in it for the quick buck. As for everybody else, dividend checks are fat. And when there’re fat, nobody asks questions. All they want is the dollars – nothing but the dollars. That’s what Tanner didn’t get,” he said. “Oh. Hold on a sec.” She watched him gingerly step down from the cart, with all of the grace of a walrus trying play the piano.
The answer is ‘No,” she thought. I know differently. And so do you.
“Those stupid presentations that Tanner used to give at shareholder meetings,” Giles said, turning to walk out of the secure area. “What an ass. The shareholders want money – not clinical trials, not cheaper drugs, not more effective drugs, not safer drugs. If they get those too, then great. But if they get their money, then who cares? Here we are.” He pointed to his limo outside. “Cassie,” he said, “You do good work. I will have the best bottle of Scotch waiting for you and me tonight. All you need to do is say ‘Yes’.”
Cassie, if you are to learn what you need to learn to go where you want to go in life, the time is now.“You know, Jasper, I–”“What? Damn.”Cassie looked down, ignoring all of the admiring eyes studying her as Jasper took his call. A movement caught her eye. She turned to the left in time to see a tiny mouse scurrying into a small hole in the wall between two stores. “Shitfire,” he said, jamming the iPhone into his pocket. He missed, and it clattered onto the tile floor, shattering the screen. He kicked it against the wall not ten feet away, watching it splinter.
“I have to go to Miami when we’re done here.”
She watched her right hand move, taking his. Heard her whisper into his ear, almost sneezing at the rank combination of cologne and body odor.“I’ll cancel one of the limos,” he said.
A savvy corporate attorney reduced to offering herself up for information. Jon struggles to builds his science despite his. The book ends as they face the consequences of their raging personal disorders,