by Seeley James
He stood with his back to her and held a phone up for a photo of the memorial’s rotunda, then turned toward Violet. He grinned at her and sauntered over, leaned on the high balustrade.
After a moment of silence, he said, “You owe me fifty thousand extra for NIH.”
“Absolutely not.”
“My business at NIH drew the attention of the FBI’s Counterintelligence unit.” Kasey leaned closer to her. “Using my black ops get-out-of-jail-free card costs money. There are documents that have to be forged, bureaucrats who have to look the other way. Send the money now, while we’re talking, or I call a cab and go visit a man named David Watson at the FBI. Me and David go way back.”
She pulled her phone from her purse and, with another glance at Kasey, entered the requisite passwords and numbers. She showed him the screen. “There, satisfied?”
He nodded.
“Where is the package?” she asked.
“Not here.”
“You sent me the code word, Lincoln Memorial, and told me to meet you here.”
“There’s been a wrinkle, sugar.”
“Do you have it or not?”
“I do.” He grinned, his breath bad enough to wilt a salad. “But there’s another bidder.”
“Bidder? What? You told someone about this? How dare—”
“Someone knows about whatever’s in the box. He contacted me.”
“I’ve already paid you. Give me what belongs to me.”
“Or what? You going to the police?”
Violet stepped back and gripped her coat around her.
“I want another million.”
“That’s outrageous,” Violet shouted. “I’m not paying you another—”
Kasey turned on his heel and began walking away. Violet ran in front of him and pushed his solid body with both hands.
“Where is it? How soon can you deploy it? That million covers deployment, right?”
“Do you even have a million more?” he asked. “Word is, your accounts are empty.”
Violet backed off and checked her phone. The last transaction had failed—insufficient funds. “Goddammit! The fucking Chinese froze my accounts.”
“Not my problem.” He paced away.
Violet ran in front of him again. “Just a minute. I’ll get this all cleared up and pay you a million, but I need that package and I need it deployed.”
Brushing her aside, he kept walking. “Not happening.”
“Cummings!” She ran in front of him again. “I paid in advance. Same with Sabel. Have you finished the job on either of those?”
He stopped and grabbed her wrists. His face lowered into hers. She bent backward at the neck as far as she could without popping out of her leg.
“I reckon you’re right about that. I still owe you two dead bodies. Let’s start with Quattro.”
“Who?”
“Cummings the fourth. Quattro.”
His grip bruised her arms. She tried to wrench herself free but gave up.
He shoved her away and turned his back. “Do you know where Quattro is?”
“He’s staying in the Jefferson Hotel, the Martha Suite.”
Kasey turned around. “He ain’t at the Jefferson, sugar. He’s on his way to meet Pia Sabel.”
CHAPTER 33
Pia knocked on the door and pushed it open in one continuous move. Tania stood by the window in street clothes, staring out, lost in thought. A duffle bag sat on the bed, zipped closed.
“Should you be up?” Pia asked.
“I’m good.”
“You were out of it for—”
“My fever went down before I took the medicine. I’m good now. The doctors cleared me. I’m going after these guys.”
“I need you to work with the Major. We have a traitor in our midst and—”
“You were right, we should’ve acted when we found them.” Tania pressed her head to the glass. “I’m going to Borneo.”
“Jacob’s already there. He’s hunting for Anatoly Mokin.”
“That’s why I’m going. He’ll screw it up.”
“Tania, you were on death’s door yesterday. The Major and I need your investigative skills here. We have a serious problem.”
Tania crossed her arms and kept her gaze on the parking garage three floors down.
“I’m the one who’ll meet the team on Borneo,” Pia said.
Tania took a slow breath. “When my sister was a teenager, she’d rave about the hyper-clarity and alertness that crystal meth gave her. Watching her fall into that chaos made me sick. I joined the Army to keep away from the life that swallowed her.” Tania paused. “But the Army isn’t a perfect place either. For some people, combat’s just as addictive as meth. It’s the adrenaline rush. Fighting for truth and justice, facing death and winning, is a high like nothing else. After a while, you get kind of immune and need more.”
“I’ve been in a few dangerous situations,” Pia said. “I know what you—”
“No you don’t. You’ve been in tight a couple times. You’ve never been in a war zone. Death can come from any direction: IEDs, artillery, suicide bombers, mortars, grenades tossed over a wall. A battlefield stretches for miles over mountains and valleys and somewhere up the slope there’s a sniper taking shots at you. Across the valley, there’s another. The rounds come in from any and every direction, you have nowhere to hide and damn few targets. Every day you’re on patrol you’re constantly analyzing every distant object: is that a hajji with a rifle—or a boy with a stick? You make life-and-death decisions in a split second. You live in danger every minute, picking them out: this guy lives, that guy dies. You get hyper-alert, hyper-clear real fast—or you don’t make it. Think about what living with that tension does to your head. Most people can’t deal with it for very long before they go crazy. Two, maybe three tours and bang, permanent PTSD.”
Tania grew quiet. The hospital buzzed outside the room.
“Jacob signed up for combat,” Tania said. “He went back for more. Not once or twice but over and over again. He’ll tell you different, but he wanted to go back. He transferred from one battalion to another, jumping in to any company that was shipping out. He learned languages so every combat commander would want him. He was the best. They called him X-Ray because he could see through walls. But they knew something was wrong. He was too lucky. They had him evaluated after one incident.” Tania faced her boss and grabbed her arms. “Pia, Jacob hears voices. They moved him to the DIA so he could get treatment but he blew it off. He didn’t quit the Army to become a cook. A two-star general cut a deal to keep him out of an institution.”
They were silent for a moment before Tania looked at her hands and let go of Pia. She turned back to the window.
“Jacob’s an addict. Addicted to death and danger like a hopeless junkie—like my sister. Next thing you know, he’ll be letting people shoot at him for the thrill of it.” Tania sniffled back some tears. “So far, he’s won all his battles, but it’s like playing Russian…”
Tania pressed her cheek to the window.
Pia wanted to hug her and say something soothing and affirmative. Instead she stood still.
“You’re catching the high,” Tania said quietly. “You’re becoming an addict. Don’t do it. Stay home. Marry your rich boyfriend and have rich kids. Jaz is your future.”
“I can’t marry him.” Pia sighed. “His real name is Jasper Bernard Jenkins.”
Tania took a moment. “For real? Jasper? Look, that’s not what matters. What matters is: I’m going to Borneo, you’re staying here.”
“What about you? Aren’t you becoming an addict?”
“It’s too late for me. Miguel, Carmen, Dhanpal, people like us, we stay safe too long and we start drinking. Getting into fights. Falling in love. Blowing up relationships. I can’t stay here. I can’t shop at the mall. Sit in a cubicle. Meet for coffee. I’d end up like my sister. The only way I can stay on the right side of sanity is when somebody’s trying to kill me.”
Pia touched her earbud and the Major came online. “You were right. She’s gone.”
“You do realize that the two people you put in charge of your personal security have left the country and we’re not sure how many assassins are still out there.”
Pia took a minute before answering. “Yes, that’s a problem. Got any ideas?”
“It’s your company,” the Major said, “you can order her back.”
“Tania and Jacob are a team. They work better together than on their own.”
“Keep Agent Marty on the job for another week. He’s smarter’n those two put together anyway.”
“OK.” Pia sighed. “Were you going to tell me about Jacob’s mental health?”
“No.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“Not if you keep him busy. Right now he’s busy. In other news, pretty boy Jaz came through. He managed to get Bobby Jenkins on a plane this morning. They’re waiting for you at the Gardens.”
* * *
On the third floor of her wing at Sabel Gardens, Pia’s staff had set up a temporary lab. Spartan and low-key, her contemporary décor offered the perfect space.
When she walked in, Bobby Jenkins jumped from his chair with a megawatt smile and embraced her like the second father he’d always been. Doc Günter and Jaz watched from the corner of the room.
Günter crossed anxiously to Pia. “I must speak to you … privately, if you don’t mind.”
“I’d rather not keep a CEO waiting.”
“But I must apologize for—” Günter began.
“Apologies can wait.” Pia turned back to Bobby. “Were you here long?”
“I spent the time wisely,” Bobby said. “After I checked out your new electron microscope and left Jaz to admire your trophy room, I caught up with your dad for a while.”
She turned to Jaz with a small smile. “Sorry, the trophy room was Dad’s idea. Terribly boring.”
“So many National Championships,” Jaz said. “I had no idea.”
“We got lucky a few times.”
“Why don’t you play anymore? Word is the National Team’s begging you to come back.”
She faced Bobby. “Has Jaz told you his ideas about the pharmaceutical industry?”
Bobby patted his son on the back. “Idealism is a good thing. Once he has to answer to investors for profits, he’ll realize nothing beats a patented maintenance drug. Right, boy?”
Pia frowned. “How far would a company go to maintain a patent?”
Bobby laughed. “Hell, some of my competitors would bring back the Spanish Influenza if they could patent a cure for it!” Bobby noticed her concern and coughed. “What do you have for me?”
Pia showed him the vial and the rag. “Jacob said the Kazakh guy used an ultraviolet light. We tried that but only saw a set of numbers. We tried code-breaking but we have nothing.”
Günter stared nervously at Pia and tried to get her attention. She ignored him. He gave up and turned to Bobby to add a few observations of his own.
Bobby leaned over a desk and shined a UV flashlight on the vial. “Batch numbers. For the kind of field trial you described, this would be a project number and patient number. But it doesn’t tell us who ordered the test and sacrificed the subjects.”
“We have a video confession from Dr. Chapman. He named Windsor Pharmaceuticals.”
Still a few feet away, Jaz said, “Wasn’t he delusional? Tania was delusional.”
At the same time, Bobby stood up, his face drained. “Windsor? Violet Windsor? If you know she did this, why do you need me?”
“We missed something. Günter did what he could, but we don’t know why they would kill to get these back. There has to be something in there. And then we have the rag that Chapman described as the delivery vehicle. We need to figure out how they plan to distribute it. Water supply? Aerosol? Food?”
Bobby and Jaz exchanged a glance.
“You think she plans to distribute this virus?” Bobby asked.
“Her project manager had a schedule for Philadelphia on her phone.”
Bobby trembled and looked around the room. Slowly, he sat at the microscope with its multiple hi-resolution displays. Günter showed him the images he’d saved to his cloud drive before the lab was destroyed. The two of them began talking in scientific terms.
Jaz looked at her expectantly. “Why not let the government handle it?”
“We did.” She kept focused on the two scientists at work.
“Not NIH—I mean Homeland Security or the CDC.”
Pia turned just a few degrees to look at him out of the corner of her eye. She said nothing.
Bobby looked up from the desk. “How have you been handling the vials?”
“Not carefully until after the first attack. There’s only one legible fingerprint other than mine or Jacob’s. I gave it to Verges, they’re working on it.”
Bobby nodded and put his eyes on the microscope lenses. “Give me a few minutes to concentrate.”
Günter rose from his seat and glanced at Jaz. “Pia, could I have that word with you now?”
Pia nosed toward the next room and led the way. Behind her, Jaz crossed to his father and began a tense, whispered conversation.
Günter began talking before she closed the door. “I am terribly sorry. I hope you will forgive me. I am the one who leaked information.”
Pia spun to pull the pocket doors closed behind them before facing the bowed doctor. “What happened?”
“We were grasping at straws, calling everyone with bio-tech experience. I ran out of names to call so I called my college roommate, Ed Cummings. He’s backed several pharmaceutical ventures and knows all the brightest minds. He promised to make some inquiries but he asked me a lot of questions. He called back, very concerned, but with even more questions. When he called this morning and asked if I could arrange a meeting I realized what I’d done. I’m so sorry. Of course, I will resign immediately.”
“When I called you from the Detention Center and asked you to take care of Tania, were you at home?”
Günter thought for a moment. “Yes.”
“Where were you the first time you spoke to Cummings?”
“In Tania’s hospital room.”
“Don’t talk to anyone about this except the Major and me.”
“What about Alan?”
“Especially not Dad.” Pia opened the pocket doors and rejoined Bobby and Jaz.
Bobby tapped a pencil on the desk and stared out the window.
Verges came in from the hallway. Pia held a finger across her lips: shh.
After a moment, Bobby stirred. “Lyophilized.”
Pia raised her brows and waited for an explanation.
“We’ll have to hydrate it and run a culture to be sure, but the gray stuff on the rag is a virus that’s been lyophilized, freeze-dried.” He frowned and checked one of the displays. “Pure speculation, but I’ll bet the rehydrated version is this nasty little bug right here.”
“How does that work?”
“Viruses need a system of transmission from human to human. Something to carry them from host to host. Water, food, anything can help the bug get from one place to another.” Bobby’s gaze floated to the ceiling while he thought. “But a lyophilized bug looks like dust until it finds its way into your warm, moist lungs. There it reanimates and ravages the host. The powder on this rag could be sprayed into the air and no one would find the source.”
“Can you prove the powder carries the disease?” Verges asked.
“I think I can,” Bobby said. “But I’m going to need some petri dishes, pipettes, centrifuge maybe, and—”
“I can get that,” Günter said. “Let’s make a list.”
“Not to be rude,” Bobby said, “but I need to concentrate on a project like this.” He glanced at each of the non-scientists.
Pia led Jaz and Verges down the hallway.
“Do you have enough to round up the Windsor people?” Pia asked Verges. She led them into a room with a billiard table.
“Deathbed confessions are strong,” Verges said with a wary glance at Jaz, “but you can’t prove chain of custody for the evidence and the phone info is inadmissable, so we don’t have enough to make an arrest.”
Pia faced Jaz. “Could you give us a moment?”
Jaz dropped his gaze to the floor and wandered down the hallway.
“Being a ‘special liaison to the Director’ gives me privileges that I’m just now learning how to abuse.” Verges watched Jaz disappear around a corner. “I wandered around the Counterintelligence division this morning. Every division is trying to get ahead of you guys on this but I think Counterintelligence is in the lead.”
“I’m glad to hear they care,” Pia said.
“Maybe. Maybe not. They confiscated a shipment of Element 42 from associates of Verratti and shipped it to China’s Public Security Bureau. They think they’ve minimized the threat to Philly. But they’re scrambling to find a second shipment that left Guangzhou yesterday. Before I could get details, they got territorial and closed ranks. I’m not sure what to do next.”
“Bluff Violet Windsor. Use your badge to scare her into making a mistake. I think she’s in the city.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Ed Cummings called and led me to believe they’re both downtown. I’m meeting him in an hour. Join me.”
Before he could answer, Agent Dhanpal ran toward them. “Pia, a body’s been dumped in the driveway. We think it’s Ed Cummings.”
CHAPTER 34
Borneo’s jungle shadows pulsed with darkness in my pain-addled mind. Nothing could help us. Not even the dawn could break through the overcast sky.
