The Alpha Project

By Richard C. Smith

September 11, 2001

The day that changed our lives.

Mark Maddox, a recent Colorado business graduate, anticipating a new career with a large and prestigious company in New York City, arrives for his first day on the job, only to find the promised position of management intern has been withdrawn due to an unexpected cutback.

He decides to at least look for another job in the big city rather than return home. After much searching, the best posting is for an assistant to the president of a small pharmaceutical company in Brooklyn.

Mr. Hill, the president, is an older, highly formal executive who has been at the helm of the company for thirty years. Mark soon finds the work interesting, but challenging. He meets Dr. Berger, the company medical director, whose key interest is The Alpha Project: formulating a breakthrough drug potentially aimed at the cure for the deadly HIV/AIDS virus.

During his introduction to the company, Mark meets Meredith Nelson, the girl in the mailroom. She captivates him with her beautiful eyes and smile, and he is eager to soon get to know her. With an offer from Dr. Berger to rent an apartment over his garage at a great price, things have a way of looking up.

But what Mark does not know is Dr. Berger’s ultimate plan to complete his work in the Alpha Project by injecting Mark with a live dose of HIV as final proof of his new drug’s effectiveness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798385011278

Richard C. Smith

After many years as a New York advertising executive, Richard C. Smith turned to writing fiction––the real desire in his life. Following retirement, he has authored a wide variety of novels and short stories which have touched him personally–– from his family history, to the New York business scene. Originally from Colorado, he loves to write about the state in which he grew up. He and his wife, Susan, are now living in central Pennsylvania, where they can be near or travel to visit their extended family, including five grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2023 Richard C. Smith.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture quotations are taken from the New American Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

ISBN: 979-8-3850-1126-1 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-1127-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023920666

WestBow Press rev. date: 11/22/2023

CONTENTS

The Situation

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The mind of a man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.

Proverbs 16:9

And yet . . .

A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good things, and an evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth evil things.

Matthew 12:35

THE SITUATION

At the turn of the new 2000 century, there appeared to be no end to the increasing pandemic of HIV, a virus which had been identified in 1984 as the principal cause of the dreaded Aids, a debilitating disease leading to certain rapid death. However, by the year 2010, infected people at least were living longer with HIV/Aids by means of an antiretroviral therapy of three drug medications taken daily to stay healthy and prevent its transmission.

As of today however, every new preventative measure to boost the immune system for the cure of HIV/Aids has ended with failure in clinical trials. The race is still on among drug companies to come up with the first successful measure to signal the end of the scourge of Aids.

Proposed preventatives usually go through certain clinical trials: First comes Alpha Testing which is performed internally on animals by the manufacturer to ensure that in production it is free of errors, followed by a limited test on humans. If this is successful, Beta Testing is then scheduled for wider human use in a production environment to ensure its complete efficacy and uncover any final problems and side effects before a general release. Beta testing is the final round of testing and must be supervised and approved by the FDA before marketing the product to a worldwide audience.

PROLOGUE

The sudden glare of the overhead fluorescents blinking on throughout the laboratory shocked the sleeping monkeys from their semi-dark security and sent them leaping to their cage doors. David Hill had finally located the light switch and now having to endure a wave of piercing animal screams from the adjoining room. He was irritated to find that he was first to arrive in the lab. This place was still foreign territory to him, despite the fact that he had headed the company for thirty years, and he didn’t enjoy being stood up. The sooner he got back to his own desk, the happier he would be.

As the president watched the antics of the noisy research animals for a moment through the observation window, his impatience grew. What am I doing here anyway? he muttered aloud. Some kind of ceremony? Dr. Berger had insisted that they meet first thing in the morning for a little celebration, as he’d put it. It was not David’s habit to engage in silly celebrations.

Ah, there you are David, Dr. Berger said cheerfully as he abruptly appeared in his lab coat, clipboard in hand. The Director of Research for Princeton Pharmaceuticals was short and rotund, in his early 60’s, with a crown of white hair, twinkling eyes and a permanent smile. Have you been waiting long?

David let out an exasperated breath. Look, let’s make this quick so I can get back upstairs.

Very well, the doctor said patiently, handing David a white coat as he punched a keypad at the caged area entrance.

The overall research complex consisted of a spacious tiled central room with clutter-free stainless-steel counters and sinks, sparkling white cabinets, various electronic test equipment and autoclave for instrument sterilization and a supply room. The rhesus monkeys were housed separately in an environment as free as possible from germ contamination.

You know David, I just assumed you would enjoy being here as I inoculate our last monkey with the live HIV, the doctor said as they entered the noisy animal room. He pointed to the nearest cage. "None of these little guys have contracted it so far, nor will this one either. The AntiViral immunization has shown to be 100 percent perfect.

You haven’t seemed to display much interest in what I’ve been doing down here lately and since this seriously involves both of us I rather think you would want to keep up with what’s going on.

Listen, Karl, I’ve given you full reign over the Alpha Project. It’s not that I’m not interested, the president said. I just need to remain somewhat aloof from it all because of the potential danger of going public early. If we can come up with an effective medication against HIV during Alpha and even eliminate the Beta phase, no one will be happier than I, but if there is even a hint that we haven’t been toeing the FDA line, somebody is bound to turn us in. We’ve got to keep this work down here in the lab under wraps for that very reason.

They stood together at a cage door, looking directly into the face of a curiously quiet brown rhesus who clung tightly against the front bars of the door, its arms and legs spread wide. With gloved hands, Dr. Berger moved forward, Stand aside. I’ve got the syringe loaded. You don’t want to be in the way.

David stepped back to allow plenty of room as the doctor reached in and detached the monkey to hold it down with one hand.

He’s already been immunized with my AntiViral drug. Now we’re injecting this live HIV virus to incubate in our furry friend, the doctor said, withdrawing the needle and giving the monkey a pat. What you will see sir is our very own miracle at work when he too comes up normal. He carefully closed the little door and moved over to drop the spent needle and vial in the hazmat disposal.

Then he locked the nearby refrigerated drug cabinet and slipped the key in his lab coat pocket. We’ll know in a day or two how we are preceding with this last monkey, and then we can start the final Alpha phase. Everything’s perfect, David. Believe me, this is going to work. It’ll be even bigger than Salk with polio!

David allowed himself a measure of his original excitement. If finding a solution for the HIV/AIDS virus wasn’t so beneficial in bolstering his own position, he would never have let the doctor talk him into short-cutting the clinical trials. There was a worldwide race on for the cure and whoever was first in developing an effective and completely safe prevention was going to be honored and rewarded quite well.

David knew that there was no doubting the positive results the doctor had already been attaining with his work. He had already authorized major production of the drug in anticipation. He squared his shoulders against the inevitable and gave in. All right, Karl. I’m going to authorize you to start the final phase of the Alpha Project. I’ll begin looking for the person who meets our criteria for this portion, but it may take me a while to find just the right candidate.

He moved toward the door. Just remember that I don’t want anyone other than the two of us to know what’s going on here. Do you understand?

Yes, of course David, of course, the doctor said, already busy with making a new entry on his clipboard.

CHAPTER ONE

M ark Maddox looked at his watch – 8:25 A.M. What a relief! Five minutes to spare. The TFG building was only a couple of blocks from his New York hotel, but the walk had caused him to sweat. As he rose in the elevator to the 15 th floor he took a deep breath to stop his heart from racing and settle his mind before his meeting with Mr. Freeman. He wasn’t worried, but he did want to make a good first impres sion.

A lovely receptionist sat inside a glassed-in area behind a solid marble desk a few feet from the elevator. A spotlight overhead illuminated her lush red hair that was swept up and held in place with a black and turquoise comb like a valuable gem in a jeweler’s showcase. She glanced up with a smile as he pulled open the heavy glass door and stepped across the room.

My name is Mark Maddox, and I have an appointment with Mr. Robert Freeman.

Thank you, Mr. Maddox. If you’ll just have a seat, I’ll let Mr. Freeman know you’re here. He noticed her beautifully manicured nails as she pressed a button on her phone.

Mark turned and selected a comfortable seat. He relaxed his lanky frame with an attempt to appear casual. He hoped his unruly hair was in place and the tie he wore was not too bright. His eyes wandered around to take in the smart surroundings that showed the company wasn’t afraid to spend its money on interior design. It spoke of this being a first class company that he had wanted to be associated with right from the start.

He was exhilarated with the prospect of beginning a new career in New York City. Four years of college had pointed toward this important moment in time. He was ready to take off and soar. The suffocating nest that had been building around him at home was not going to hold him back from what he wanted to do. He was so ready now to become a part of this classy corporation’s inner-workings.

He was reminded of the exciting notification letter he had received from TFG less than a month before. He had applied for several positions before leaving college, but this successful company had been his primary choice. It gave him so much pleasure to think that they had chosen him.

He slipped a hand into an inner pocket and took out the correspondence on crisp letterhead stationery he had read many times already:

TFG Corporation World Headquarters

June 10, 2001

Mr. Mark Maddox

24 South Polo Club Drive

Denver, Co 82180

Dear Mr. Maddox:

Congratulations on being selected for the next TFG Management Intern Program. I look forward to meeting you. We will get underway promptly at 8:30 A.M., July 16, 2001 on the 15th floor of our headquarters building, 40 East 51st Street.

Mr. Donald Holmes, a recent business graduate from The University of Pennsylvania will be joining you in this program.

Business attire is suit and tie.

Sincerely,

Robert K. Freeman

Director of Special Services

The glass door opened and another guy about his age hurried forward.

Don Holmes to see Mr. Freeman, please.

The receptionist also asked him to wait, and Don paced a few steps before he sat. He was shorter than Mark, good looking, trim and muscular, sporting a buzz cut, an excellent candidate for the Marines.

I’m Mark Maddox, Mark said putting his hand out. I guess we’re both here for the same reason.

Don Holmes. Nice to meet you. Man, I thought I wasn’t going to make it. Traffic was rough all the way in from Teaneck. I’m not used to this Monday stuff, finding a parking building, running two blocks. Whew!

Where’s Teaneck?

Over in Jersey – across the G.W. Bridge. He pointed in the general direction. You cross at Ft. Lee and zip down the Henry Hudson – except there was no zip this morning."

So will you be staying there?

Probably. Nothing affordable here. My aunt’s alone with plenty of room, so I’ll live with her for a while.

Your family from Pennsylvania? I see from our letter that’s where you graduated.

No, just The Wharton school. My parents passed away. It’s just me and my aunt.

There was a silence. Mark looked at his watch. It was 8:35.

Don watched him. The letter said you went to Colorado.

Mark smiled. Yeah. You been there?

No. I’d love to though, and go skiing. You ski?

Absolutely, Mark said.

Abruptly, a door behind reception opened and a pert blond, well dressed in a dark blue skirt and white blouse stepped out. She appeared to be about twenty-five. Mark glanced to see if she was married. Good morning, gentlemen, she said. Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Miss Ryan, Mr. Freeman’s assistant. We’re having some difficulties this morning, but I think we finally have everything put together. Mr. Freeman sends his regrets. He’s asked me to have a word alone with each of you.

Mark and Don exchanged looks.

Mr. Holmes, will you come first? Mr. Maddox, I won’t keep you waiting long. Make yourself comfortable while I see Mr. Holmes. There’s a kitchen down the hall to your left with coffee and danish. Mr. Holmes, will you follow me?

Don stepped forward and held the door for her. She thanked him as they went in.

I’ve got to start by learning patience, Mark said to himself. I’ve waited this long; I can wait a few minutes more. He moved into the hall and turned left. A nice kitchenette was tucked in at the end, and he filled a cup with steaming brew from a big thermos dispenser. He found some sugar and stirred it in.

What a rich-looking organization, he thought. He passed his hand across the granite counters and opened a couple of the red mahogany cupboards. Several sets of crystal and china stood ready for special occasions. He took his time sipping his coffee while he looked around.

Suddenly Miss Ryan popped her head around the door and said, Would you follow me now, Mr. Maddox? He hadn’t expected her back so soon.

Just bring your coffee, she said.

They went back through reception and into the inner sanctum along a plush carpeted hall with offices opening from it. The walls between the doors held some nicely lit oil paintings that he could see were originals. The place was deathly quiet. No voices, no phones. No sign of Don Holmes.

Just in here. Miss Ryan guided Mark into a small room with a bare executive desk and a couple of chairs. He suspected that this wasn’t her office. It didn’t look lived in. From the expansive windows hung with wooden blinds, he had an interesting view of the side of a nearby high-rise building. Workers across the way were busy at their computers or on the phone. He wondered what types of business they represented.

She closed the door silently, then moved to a place behind the polished desk. Please be seated. she said.

"Mr. Maddox. I think I should get right to the point. TFG announced late Friday afternoon that the company suffered a severe shortfall in expected earnings during the last quarter, ending June 30. Our board has directed management to make all necessary cutbacks to insure that during this current quarter we can again report a profit.

Our Management Intern Program has a fine reputation for bringing in qualified college graduates like yourself and moving them into positions of major responsibility. For several years it has been a valuable pool from which our division managers draw. However, despite that, Mr. Freeman has been directed to suspend this program for a period of time. I am very sorry to report that the two slots which were to be filled this quarter are no longer available.

Mark thought his heart would stop. His mouth opened, but he could say nothing.

Now let me assure you that once this program is opened again, you are practically guaranteed a place on our team.

When would that be? he struggled to ask.

Three months, more probably six, I’d say.

Oh, I can’t wait that long.

Well that will be up to you, of course, she answered. Her clipped efficient delivery and lack of compassion really irked him.

He was sick to his stomach. She didn’t know how much this job meant to him. What was he going to tell everyone back home?

I’ve waited since graduating to take this job. He tried to keep the tremor out of his voice. Two whole months, and now you tell me that it’s not available?

I’m sorry, she conceded. I personally have nothing to say about it. Mr. Freeman told me only this morning. He would have met with you himself, but he is meeting right now with our new president who gave the directive.

Well, is there anything else available in the company?

I’m afraid that’s not my department. You should visit the second floor on your way out and speak with Human Resources. I’ll be glad to call them for you before you leave.

There’s my flight and hotel . . .

Miss Ryan opened the desk and took out a check from the otherwise empty drawer.

We certainly understand that you have incurred major expenses and you should not have to pay them out of your pocket. This check is based on your expected salary level calculated since your initial recruitment, less withholding. We hope that it will help cover what you have had to spend to come here.

She slid it across the smooth desktop and brought out a paper and pen. If you’ll sign this receipt, I think we’re done.

Just like that. Miss Ryan had taken all his hopes and dreams for a brilliant career in business and flushed them with I think we’re done. It seemed to him that she couldn’t have cared less.

With a quick movement he took the pen and signed away all hope for the big start he had been counting on.

Miss Ryan was smiling at him. There wasn’t much more to say. He rose to leave, a little unsteady on his feet. The bright air of confidence that he had brought in was on the floor.

She said, Keep in contact with us, won’t you? The program will start up again soon. In the meantime, I’ll call Human Resources on the second floor, if you like.

He went to the door without an answer, the check in his hand, his coffee left on the desk unfinished. No good-byes were exchanged. Things weren’t that good.

The lovely receptionist outside turned and gave Mark a knowing look and a nod as he left. Without saying anything, he felt her sympathy radiating out. She had probably been aware of this situation all along.

Alone inside the elevator, he pressed the button absently for the second floor. The shock of what was happening left Mark absolutely numb. A hundred things were going through his mind and he couldn’t get a handle on any of them. He knew this: he was on the way out instead of on the way in. His hand went up to cover his forehead to stop the pounding.

The elevator slowed and opened. For a moment, Mark didn’t understand where he was. Then, as he lowered his hand, he saw another gleaming corporate reception area, similar to the one upstairs. marked Human Resources. His legs wouldn’t move. He needed to go, but the will wasn’t there. After a moment, the door closed and continued its descent to the lobby.

Nothing had changed on the ground floor in the last 45 minutes. The expansive marble entryway was busy with people hurrying to fill the elevators, some in animated discussion and others talking on their cell phones. Mark no longer felt connected with them. They had jobs, and they were going somewhere. He wasn’t.

He took a seat on a cool marble bench along one wall and leaned forward on his new briefcase. He still felt like being sick. He had been so sure that this job was a ticket straight from heaven, the answer to his prayers for the ability to prove himself on his own. He had been so bold about his Christian faith in college, but now God had seemed to abandon him. Life had become a mess.

I’ve got to get a grip and think, he said to himself. He felt hung out to dry and had no idea as to what to do next.

There was no way he was going to talk to anyone in Human Resources right now. TFG Corporation turned him off. They could have contacted him last week before he came all this way for nothing.

The giant marble clock behind the reception desk read 9:20. Nothing left to do but check out and fly home. It’s obvious they don’t want me in New York, and I’m not about to stay where I’m not wanted. I guess I’ll go to work at MountainAirLines after all. Dad will be happy. He’s wanted me there all along.

His stomach tightened at the thought, but he stood up with fresh resolve and went out on the street, still a little numb, being pushed along with the rest of humanity. He was now bent on getting back to his hotel before checkout time and grab a cab to the airport. The pressure was off a little, now that he had some sort a plan in mind.

At 51st and Lexington, he had to wait for traffic to clear. A city bus blocked the crosswalk, but finally it pulled away, pouring out a dark cloud of diesel exhaust. The oncoming rush of pedestrians surged toward him, and leading the pack was Donald Holmes!

Hey Don! Mark said, totally amazed to recognize someone he knew in the crowd.

Don took a second, stopping to comprehend who it was. Then it hit him. Oh, wow! he said.

The two moved away from the push and shove at the curb and stood against a building. I wondered where you went, Mark said. What did they tell you?

It was short and sweet. The intern program’s cut. I guess we’re out.

So why do we have to put up with this? Mark spoke intensely above the street noise. It’s unfair, and I for one don’t think we should let them get away with it. How do you feel about it?

Disappointed. I needed the work.

Well I’m angry. What am I’m going to tell everybody? They think I’m making it in New York by now.

Don obviously saw Mark’s pain. Come on, let’s grab a cup of coffee in here. He herded him to a nearby door. Mark went reluctantly, glancing at his watch.

I can’t stay long. I’ve got to check out before 11:00, he said.

No worries, bro. You’ve got plenty of time.

A steady hum of conversations greeted them as they entered. Frank Sinatra was singing an old ballad from the ceiling speakers, the music overwhelmed by the clatter of the late breakfast crowd and loud orders to the kitchen. The air was pungent with frying oil. They moved along the seats and took the last available table next to a window. Trash from the previous customer sat uncleared. Don picked up everything on a tray while Mark sat down and stared through the glass that helped to insulate the shop from the incessant blasts of a passing fire engine. In a minute Don had the table in order, and a middle-aged waitress suddenly stood alongside.

Mark looked up from his distraction, surprised to find her waiting for his order. Just coffee.

Two eggs over easy with bacon, and orange juice, Don said, pulling out a seat. And regular coffee.

Mark stared ahead. I was really anticipating this job. You seem to be taking it calmly enough.

Don leaned back in his chair. Can’t cry. It happens. I’ll start looking around, I guess.

I don’t know why they couldn’t call.

Don shrugged. My guess is they didn’t know ‘til late Friday, maybe Saturday. Let’s face it, we didn’t rate a second thought in their minds until this morning. Did they give you your pay?"

Yes, I’ll need it for a ticket back.

Don seemed mystified. Do you really have to go?

Mark paused. What do you mean? He turned to face Don squarely. I almost have to. I’ll be working for my dad now. The thought further agitated him.

I mean, why not stay here and look for another job?

Mark turned to the window again, assessing the idea. The waitress brought cups and began pouring.

What would you suggest?

Start interviewing. You’ve got TFG’s money. Develop an adventuresome spirit and enjoy yourself while you’re here. Who knows, you might never get the chance again.

Mark reflected on what he was saying. Don had a point. Why should he rush back? Perhaps there was still a job in New York he could do, although right now he didn’t know what.

How about you? Mark asked.

"A guy over in Jersey has been wanting me to go into business with him. Computer networking. I’ll probably give him a call. He’s a tech genius with no business sense. It’s the other way around with me.

Listen, he went on, "if you brought your laptop start checking it out, otherwise get yourself yesterday’s Times. The best help-wanted ads are listed on Sunday. Some newsstands may still have it. You never know what you’ll find." His enthusiasm was becoming infectious.

The waitress brought Don’s order. It didn’t look half bad.

The guy was right. He was far too concerned about what everybody back home would say. He was already on his own in New York. Why not relax and enjoy it? For the last two months, he’d visualized the hundreds of things he was going to do in his free time. Now it was starting to come back to him, and he was here in the midst of it all!

He stopped the waitress. Hey, maybe I’ll have the same thing.

As he saw the change come over Mark, Don said, I can get tickets to the Mets-Blue Jay game tonight. You want to go?

He didn’t have to think twice. Man, that would be sweet. He was beginning to get pumped.

McEwing is the lead-off hitter. He’s been hot all season. A friend knows him and he can get me tickets. He’s hooked me on watching. It should be a great game.

All at once Mark totally relaxed. He took a deep breath and felt excited, exhilarated. New York was great and he suddenly wanted to experience it. Plus, he knew somebody willing to show him around.

The tone of their conversation changed. The little coffee shop was definitely much brighter, the people friendlier. Don’s spirit had lifted Mark out of his depressed state, and they were about to do the town. Forget TFG Corporation. They were just going to have to do without him.

CHAPTER TWO

T he next morning, a sharp rapping on the hotel door brought Mark out of a deep s leep.

Maid, a voice called. It took him a few seconds to think through where he was.

Later, okay? Mark called back. He turned over in the warm burrow he’d made in the covers and regretted forgetting to put the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob.

The game had ended late with the Mets winning. After that it had taken some time to get back to the hotel from Flushing.

Then he heard a mumble from the other bed. What time is it?

That’s right! Mark had persuaded Don to stay rather than drive to Teaneck, and he’d had way too many beers at the game. Besides, now he could pick his brain and maybe get an experienced push today in the right direction. He had already discovered that Don had what his dad referred to as common sense. People like that seemed to have solid answers to difficult situations – like problem-solvers on the run.

Oh man! Guess I’d better get up, Don groaned from under his covers.

Stay long enough for me to buy you breakfast. I’m rich now, you know, Mark said. He didn’t mind putting off job hunting as long as possible.

I can’t. I need to take off. My aunt left me with Fannie, and when that dog doesn’t get out, she chews up the place. I only hope it’s not too late already.

Your aunt go out of town?

She’s in Wisconsin with my cousin. They just had a new baby. He emerged from the pile of covers and padded across to the bathroom in his shorts. Mark got up and put on the new robe his mother had given him for his birthday a couple days ago. He went over and squinted against the light as he pulled open the curtains and looked down on the traffic.

"I enjoyed the