Senate Cloakroom Cabal Read Online Free PDF Page B

success stories.
    Placebo tests, double-blind procedures performed on over two thousand people of all ages in and out of the United States, proved Tutox, as it was familiarly called, was effective in ninety percent of the people using it—an astounding and unheard of result.
    Sherman Rogers joined his father. “How you holding up, Dad?”
    Harley flinched. “What? Oh, Sherman. I was engrossed . . .”
    â€œIt’ll go fine. You’ve been through worse.”
    â€œIt would be a lot worse if it hadn’t been for you, son.”
    â€œI’m glad you feel comfortable now with what we’ll be doing,” Sherman said softly, patting his father’s shoulder.
    Three years earlier, a medical trade publication had gotten its hands on an internal report describing some of the remarkable results from Tutoxtamen’s early tests and published them. That’s when the pharma lobby came a’callin’. They were adamantly opposed to the development of a potential miracle drug and threatened Harley with a not approvable by the FDA—unless he cut back to only one of the cancers.
    Strategic planning had always been one of Harley’s long suits. He had learned early in life to expect the unexpected, to keep his options open and his perimeters strong. He and Sherman had spent many long days scoping out a plan to circumvent the pharmas, while making it look like his company was complying with the one-disease approach.
    Harley had immediately contacted a German pharmaceutical firm with whom he’d had previous associations, and had paid them to conduct parallel testing on Tutox phases I, II, III, and any other tests the Europeans would require. Harley felt positive the Germans would receive full approval—the caveat being how far-reaching and influential the pharma lobby could be.
    â€œI never dreamt I would ever go against my country.”
    â€œYou’re not, Dad. It’s not our country that’s giving us trouble. It’s a few senators and our own pharmaceutical lobbyists. I wish we didn’t have to do this either. But I want you to take your proper place in history, right up there with Curie, Pasteur, and Salk.”
    Harley became lost in his thoughts. Presidential candidates argued over costs and cures ad nauseam in debates. The public usually went with what was expedient. A recent flu vaccine shortage brought out flimflam operators offering the vaccine at five to ten times the normal price, and the public rushed to use it. They heard vaccine and didn’t ask if it had ever been tested. The pharmas never said a word. Some companies made a killing on that.
    Sherman squeezed his father’s shoulder lightly. “Come on, Dad. They’re ready.” Harley nodded. Maybe floggings in the town square should be reinstituted for the con artists who preyed on the public. The death penalty would be too good for them.
    He felt Sherman’s reassuring hand and became aware that his vice chairman, Robert Storer, stood at the microphone, extolling Harley and RPI. Harley stood a little taller and fixed his eyes straight ahead.
    â€œ. . . and now please join me in a salute to the genius behind Rogers Pharmaceuticals’s great success, our founder and chairman of the board, Harley Rogers.” Harley walked steadily out onto the platform and directly to Bob Storer. They met and shook hands, then Storer stepped back, giving Harley the stage. The applause was deafening. Harley stood to the side of the podium looking out over the thousand or so people who filled every seat and stood along the walls. Bright lights suddenly came on for the television cameras, preventing him from seeing into the hall any longer.
    Harley could not tell his stockholders the full truth, something he always held dear. He would fire salvos at Congress and the FDA. One truth was the government’s failure to act, to save lives. He had been a warrior once, but since WWII, he had been a