“What does it matter?” Mike said. “If everyone else who gets infected exhibits the same symptom as those in the hospital, do you really think anyone’s going to be concerned about how the fire started?”
“No, guess not. Anyway, it’s time to make those calls. Steve?” Grace turned to the reporter, half-expecting some excuse for why he couldn’t proceed.
“Yeah, I’m ready when you are.”
His attitude had really changed since just after escaping from the roadside inn, she considered. Perhaps the enormity of it all had sunk in. She also wondered when the full force would sink in with her and how she would handle it.
Better not be any time soon. I can’t afford to pieces now.
“Do you think the cell service will be good enough?” Richard asked as they all headed back to the offices where it was a bit warmer.
“Should be fine. We’re not that far from the city and there aren’t any mountains to block the signal.”
A decision had been reached during the night that they should make the phone calls from right here at the factory. They hadn’t planned on staying at the factory much longer and this was as good a time as any to leave.
“Right, we’ll make the calls here, but then leave the phone on—don’t hang up, okay Steve?” Mike reminded one more time.
“Yeah, I got it. I just wish I could write the number down first so I don’t make a mistake, but…” Steve’s nerves were on display.
“Try this.” Grace handed him a nail she picked up off the factory floor. “Scratch on top of the old table.”
“Great!” Steve took the nail. When he was done, he asked for the phone. Looking down at the numbers he’d scrawled into the desk, he also called them out as he punched the numbers into the cell phone.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear this was a different person. Grace said to herself, but was still cautious when it came to the reporter.
Steve had it on speaker so everyone could listen. The phone in the governor’s office rang four times before a series of clicks were heard as the voicemail kicked in. “You have reached the office of the Iowa Governor, your say in our great state is extremely important to—”
“Cut it!” Mike called.
“What, you said—”
“Never mind, just hang up.”
“Mike what are you doing?” Grace interjected.
“We don’t have time to leave messages and if the phones at the governor’s office have your standard answering service, then something is wrong.”
“What makes you say that?” Tilford asked.
“Because if you’ve just taken the honor as the first city in the United States to break out with this flu and the hospital where it started just burnt down, I would imagine there’d be more than your standard message recording, wouldn’t you?”
“So, what do we do now?” Steve asked, holding the phone limply in one hand.
“We make more calls. The governor’s not the only game in town,” Grace told him.
“Okay, how about I call my producer and—”
“No. No way. They would expect that, any call to your producer would be instantly traced.” Mike shut the door on that idea.
“Damn this!” Grace grabbed one of the other phones.
“What are doing, Grace? Who are you calling?”
“This is a long shot, but there’s not much choice. I’m calling Calgleef, the Director of the CDC.”
“Wasn’t he the bastard in the chemical suit that visited us in our holding cells?” A shocked Richard asked.
“Yep, that was him.”
“Err…yeah, I’m a bit confused, too. Why would you call him, Grace, especially if he’s part of the conspiracy as you say?” Mike added his bit.
Grace held the phone in her hand and looked around at the questioning faces. She understood their angst. Hell, she wasn’t sure why she wanted to call Calgleef—she just felt she had to.
“Call it female intuition or plain bloody desperation, whatever. I realize his phones will be bugged, but we’re leaving, so it won’t matter.”
Grace made it plain to see—she was not about to be talked out of it.
Calgleef was on his second cup of black coffee in his Atlanta home when his home phone rang. He had a good night’s sleep back in his own bed, but his head rang like a son of a bitch this morning. Still, considering the amount of alcohol he’d consumed, he was lucky not to be in hospital. Because he’d spaced out his drinks throughout the course of the day and had many glasses of water in between, his stomach wasn’t as bad as it should have been.
Not expecting the call to be related to CDC matters, he answered casually enough. “Hello.”
“Director Calgleef, it’s Delaney, Grace Delaney.”
The shock of his former officer calling him left him short for words.
“Mr. Calgleef, are you there?”
“Err…yes, yes I’m here. Where the hell are you?”
“You know I’m not going to tell you that. Now please listen to—”
“No. You listen to me. Give me your number now!” Calgleef regained his clarity. “Just do it. I’ll call you right back on a secure satellite phone. It’s the only way.” This was Calgleef’s chance. He knew it and he had to take it.
“Why should I trust you of all people?”
“Because you have no one else, Miss Delaney. You’re wasting time, give me your number.”
After a short delay in which Grace conferred with her confederates, she gave Calgleef the phone number.
“Thank you, stand by.”
“Do you know what you’ve done?” Steve said the instant she ended the call. “They’ll be able to trace that call directly here.”
“Not necessarily. It wouldn’t be any different than if Calgleef’s phone was already monitored,” Mike told the reporter calmly enough.
“You don’t seem too concerned?” Grace said.
“Well, it didn’t seem like the thing to say, especially if you were trying to get a trace on the call. You would do the opposite—keep them on-line for as long as possible. He wanted to get off the phone, so I think—” The phone Grace just used started to ring. She answered with reservation. “Delaney.”
“Look Delaney,” Calgleef began, “I’m not concerned with where you are. I have no interest in this any longer, and certainly not in your capture.”
“Your greed got the better of you.”
“Yes, but that’s neither here nor there. Tell me, what are your plans and why call me?”
Calgleef drank from his coffee as he listened to Delaney tell of her plans to bring this to the attention of the state governor, who would pass it on to the White House.
“The governor has fled, Delaney,” Calgleef disclosed. “Apparently when he was informed of the crisis, he put two and two together and came up with the Baltic flu.”
“So who’s coordinating the quarantine effort around the city?”
Calgleef understood that Delaney and her cohorts must be within proximity of Des Moines to know of the quarantine—or perhaps it was an educated guess?
No matter.
“President Galtieri has placed FEMA office in charge, based in part on recommendations from the NSA.”
“The NSA? Why would they be involved in this crisis? This isn’t their mandate.”
“The potential of this virus to weaken the country’s defenses through infection of a large portion of the defense and intelligence community can’t be overlooked… At least that’s the spin they and their co-conspirators at the CIA are putting on it.”
After a short pause, Calgleef added, “And understand this. The NSA put up a communications wall around the president and anyone else of any importance in the cabinet. Supposedly to protect them from ‘harmful or disingenuous’ reports.”
“What about you?” Grace shot back. “Can you get to the president?”
“Now, I don’t know. My…err…colleagues, shall we say, are more than likely doubting my commitment—which is why I asked you to give me
your number. I don’t have long and I want to get my wife out. We can talk later, but I must move and I would suggest you do so as well. And by the way, the next batch of vaccines have arrived from Thorn Industries, the shots are scheduled to begin today in Des Moines and other areas of Iowa.” Calgleef then ended the call after giving Grace his sat phone number.
“What do you think?” Grace asked the others.
Mike was first to answer. “He sounded like a man defeated.”
“Yeah, I got that impression, too,” Tilford agreed.
“But do you think he’s on the up and up, that’s the question?”
“I’m not sure, but we have no real choice, do we?” Mike said.
“He did give us his satellite number, so seemed like he wanted to continue communications. If he wanted to help the authorities catch us, then I doubt if this would be the manner in which to do it,” Tilford said to everyone.
“Yeah well, he’s right about one thing: we need to get away from this factory.”
“And where should we go?” Steve asked.
Grace took a moment to look everyone in the eye before answering. “We need to get to the nearest clinic. If the inoculations are beginning again today, I want to be there to see the results firsthand.”
Everyone stared back in stunned silence. It wasn’t the answer they wanted to hear.
Thorncroft was aware of the outbreak of infected outside of the containment zone around Des Moines. But that wasn’t what bothered him. It would be impossible to keep the virus within the barricaded areas. The impression he got from Calgleef, however, did concern him. The Director of the CDC could tell some interesting tales of the Baltic flu, of Thorn Industries, and of Thorncroft himself. He was sure there would be many an ear in Washington willing to listen to him. That was, of course, if Calgleef had developed cold feet. The American’s demeanor on the phone suggested as much.
“You need to follow up on him. Watch his movements and monitor his calls,” Thorncroft said into his own secured phone. After listening to the reply, he added, “See to it.”
Thorncroft was alone in his mansion at this stage—he didn’t feel like company. He didn’t care for the sick, the dying, or the dead in Des Moines or anywhere else. But if Calgleef had turned against him and managed to get to a sympathetic listener in a high place, this whole scheme would be ruined. He didn’t worry about prosecution, that would be avoided. But his name and company would be ruined and a fortune would be lost.
No, it would be best to play it safe. It wouldn’t take much of an effort to convince the public the Director of the CDC had succumbed to the Baltic flu—considering that he after flew into Des Moines to consult with his staff there and met with Dr. Moya—now known to be the carrier.
“That should wrap up his involvement nicely,” Thorncroft said quietly.
There would only be the issue of any documentation Calgleef may have left behind. He had people to look into that.
He picked up his satellite phone and put in another call to the United States. “Mr. Brown…I have a job for you,”
14
Fourteen
The supplies that had been appropriated from the previous night were loaded into the back of the pickup. The three cowboys from the market weren’t that fussy with their food selection, or perhaps didn’t know much about nutrition. But the food was welcomed by everyone. A heavy silence was felt around the factory as they prepared to leave. Grace’s intention of observing the activities at a health clinic had made everyone more than uncomfortable.
“Do you think this is a wise move?” Tilford asked. He waited for Grace outside the restroom, away from the others.
“We saw how quickly the virus took hold after the injections at Riverside, and that’s what I want to check on.”
“But we’re putting our freedom at risk by going into a clinic, don’t you think?”
“We don’t have to go inside, Isaac. We can park down the street and watch from the safety of the truck.”
The younger doctor’s expression told Grace he wasn’t sure of what she meant.
“No one I’m aware of called the authorities at Riverside when the patients became infected—they just showed up.” She continued, “If an outbreak occurs again inside the clinic, we’ll be able to see the authorities arrive from a safe distance.”
“That sounds a lot better than going inside, thanks for clarifying that for me.” Tilford took a deep breath, relief had replaced his concerned look.
Grace now understood the reason for the somber mood displayed by everyone.
“Listen up, people,” she marched back over toward the pickup, “sorry if I’ve misled you. I don’t have any intention of going inside any clinic. We can watch from a distance and stay hidden.”
“Well, I’m glad you cleared that up, I was pretty worried—” Steve said.
“You’re always worried,” Mike said.
Grace noticed that Mike still didn’t appear to trust the TV reporter, but he had lightened up some—or at least it sounded that way.
“Can we just get out of here? We’ve waited too long now.” Grace went to the passenger door. “Who’s driving?”
“I’ll drive,” Richard said. “You and the others can keep an eye out and I’ve got a fair idea of where we are after last night.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let’s get going then.” Grace took one more look around the factory then jumped into the pickup.
15
Fifteen
The Clean Bill of Health Clinic in Carlisle, like many other medical centers across Iowa, received a delivery of vaccines early. About half an hour out of Des Moines and just outside of the quarantine zone, it was decided on after Richard suggested it. Richard parked the Dodge 2500 more than a hundred yards away on the approaching road. They would have a good view of the clinic and what’s more, be in a position of some safety.
“And how long are we to wait here?” Steve asked from the back seat.
Grace let out a sigh. She hoped he wasn’t going to start whining again.
“It shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours before we see any reactions,” she finally said, then added, “If indeed there are any.”
“It looks pretty quiet at the moment.” Mike headed off anything further from the reporter. It was a legitimate question besides.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Grace said. “Maybe there’s another entrance we can’t see from here?”
Carlisle didn’t have a large population by any means, and the clinic was originally intended to serve the adjoining counties and was the size more of an inner-city emergency care hospital. Still, it was preferable than venturing into the city—even if they could get by the barriers.
“I could take a walk down there and see if there’s another entrance for those getting their shots,” Tilford volunteered.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if there’s someone on staff who might have worked at Riverside in the last year?”
“Grace makes a good point. It would be dangerous. Let me go,” Richard said.
“All right. Check out the building, but don’t be too obvious and get back as fast as you can.”
Richard calmly got out of the pickup. “Yes, ma’am.”
She sure ain’t like most women doctors, Richard said to himself as he headed toward the clinic. “Not that I actually know any women doctors,” he muttered under his breath.
He kept his head down as he walked. No doubt their photos had been on the news—especially the two doctors. Steve, being a reporter in Des Moines, was already well-known and probably Mike, too. But as the cameraman behind the scenes, Richard might escape such scrutiny. At least that was the reason behind his thinking. He continued to walk on, past the parking lot and the driveway and to the side of the building opposite from their viewpoint. There he saw the crowd of people lined up alongside the wall of the building—at least a hundred long. Casually, he crossed the road and walked back on the other side to the Dodge. His instinct was
to run and deliver the news of his discovery, but that might draw unwanted attention.
“You’re right,” Richard said the instant he jumped back in the pickup. “There’s another parking lot on the other side with an entrance to the first floor. There’s quite a few lined up already.”
“How many?” Mike asked.
“At least a hundred that I could tell. They weren’t moving all that fast, so must be more inside.”
“Did you see anyone leaving?” Grace asked.
“No, but I didn’t stick around.”
“What are you thinking, Grace?” Tilford leaned over the back of the seat and asked.
“Just wondering. We have no idea when they started, so if there’s going to be a reaction, it could happen anytime now.”
“You don’t seriously think this new batch of vaccines would cause an outbreak as before?”
“Why not? We didn’t think it would happen the first time—but it did,” Grace pointed out to Steve. “Frankly I’d be surprised, but—”
The wail of a distant siren alerted everyone in the pickup. Either they’d been recognized or an incident had occurred at the clinic.
“Let’s get out of here!” Steve made his intentions obvious.
“You just wait a moment.” Mike looked the reporter square in the eyes.
Within moments, more sirens were heard coming from different directions. Carlisle probably didn’t have too many police cars and it sounded as if all of them were on their way.
“If they’re after us, we won’t outrun them in this truck. And if they’re headed to the clinic, we need to see that for ourselves.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Grace supported Mike’s observation. She was firmly motivated with finding the proof of the evil conspiracies existence—and more precisely—to put an end to it.
Personal safety had become secondary.
While Grace Delaney and her companions waited for the outcome of the police activity near them, the city of Des Moines surrendered to the onslaught of the Baltic flu. No news stations, TV or radio, reported anything of the overnight developments. The city-wide curfew locked everything down and all news outlets had to submit a detailed list of reports they planned to release to the Des Moines Board of Safety. A body formed to prevent information of the virus’ full affects from reaching the public.
Pestilence Boxed Set [Books 1 & 2] Page 22
