A Cure For All
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
(Stewart) was stopped at a red light a few blocks from his apartment when he glanced over at a Mercedes S600 waiting at the light next to him. It was black, with darkly tinted windows hiding the occupants. As he watched, the window slid slowly down. It took him a second to recognize Reggie, the petty drug dealer he had manhandled on the street in front of his office the previous day. Wearing the same red bandanna the thug flashed him a devious smile, clearly showing the gaudy gold-capped tooth with a star in the center. Reggie’s arm rested casually on the door, an expensive diamond Rolex on his wrist. Before Stewart had a chance to wonder where the small time drug dealer found the money for a Rolex watch he saw the automatic weapon pointed at him. He hit the gas, spinning the tires of his old Buick, and leaving smoking black streaks of rubber on the street. From behind he heard the rapid fire of the automatic weapon and then the clank of the bullets hitting the back door and rear quarter panel of his car. His quick action had given him a slight head start on his pursuer, but he knew it wouldn’t last. He sped down the narrow street to the next intersection where he swung left onto a four-lane road, running a red light in the process. The powerful $130,000 Mercedes with 12 cylinders was right behind him. Since he knew he had no chance to outrun the powerful vehicle, when he reached the next intersection, he hit the brakes, turning the steering wheel sharply, and throwing the car into a violent left turn. He watched in the mirror as the Mercedes went halfway into the intersection before it turned and headed after him. With the gas pedal now pressed to the floor, Stewart sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic at eighty miles an hour. Suddenly, an unsuspecting driver pulled from a parking space, swinging into his lane. Again Stewart turned the wheel violently, forcing his car over the curb and toward a pyramid of trashcans. The now out of control automobile plowed into the cans causing an explosion of discarded food and debris, splattering a soppy mess onto the windshield. Barely able to see through the garbage, Stewart swerved to miss what appeared to be a dog as he tried desperately to regain control. The car careened from the sidewalk and flew back into the street with the bottom smashing onto the asphalt and spraying sparks from the undercarriage like a Fourth of July celebration. The thirteen-year-old car’s already weak suspension groaned under the impact and the left rear leaf spring snapped. The vehicle swerved several more times; barely missing other cars and panicking pedestrians in the crosswalk, before Stewart finally regained control. Unfortunately, the big Mercedes was still behind him and gaining rapidly. Within seconds it was close enough to pull into the lane beside him. Stewart hit the brakes hard and swerved, causing the rear of his car to slip sideways into the front fender of the Mercedes. The impact barely made a difference to the much larger vehicle. Again Stewart heard the blast of an automatic weapon as a second gang member leaned out the passenger side and opened up. The bullets strafed the back of the car, breaking the taillights and the rear window.
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Suppose for a moment that a simple cure for cancer was discovered: one pill taken over a few months that could destroy the plague currently killing 6.9 million people around the world annually and creating trillions of dollars in medical expenses. Aside from the incalculable benefit to people suffering from the dreaded disease, what would be the economic impact of such a discovery? What would happen to public and private companies who have millions of dollars invested in cancer drug development, hospitals, medical equipment sales, and manufacturing? Would everyone embrace a cure with open arms? Or would there be rich and powerful people who would see it as destructive to their personal interests and try to keep it hidden from the public at all costs? Jefferson Stewart III, a former Washington D.C. homicide detective and now fledgling private investigator, stumbles into the cancer cure fray and teams up with an unlikely partner, Tyrone Adams, a small-time street drug dealer, to help him investigate the suspicious death of a research scientist. In the early stages of the investigation, Stewart discovers that the dead scientist and a now missing research partner had truly found a cure for cancer. As the story rapidly unfolds, Stewart realizes there are powerful and sinister forces that will do anything to keep the cure from the market. When an attempt on his life fails and people around him start dying, the overwhelmed private detective calls friends from his military past to help unravel the mystery. The story is fast paced with non-stop action and a surprise ending. Russell Johnson was born in Washington D.C. He is a former Vietnam infantry veteran with a stint in the military police at Fort George G. Meade in Maryland. He has a BS in Business from the University of Baltimore and a Master’s degree from Johns Hopkins University. He is currently an executive in the finance industry and a cancer survivor. This is his first published work. He lives with his wife, Lesli and daughters, Courtney and Brittany, in Maryland.
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