“Well,” Orizaga said with a shrug. “I can’t say your visit here yesterday was all bad. What is it you Americans say? The wife was spending me out of house and home.” He shook his head and chuckled again. “Actually, no one who lives here is related to me by blood. My wife was a package deal, which included her family members. An arranged marriage in exchange for the investor’s participation in various financial activities over the years. Except, I couldn’t get rid of them because that would terminate my contract with the Triad.” Orizaga shrugged again. “So I suppose I should thank you for liberating me.”
He stuck his hand out and Carl shook it. Carl smiled, knowing he now had a second bargaining chip.
“You’re a cold-hearted scoundrel, Mr. Orizaga.”
“I consider that a compliment, coming from a man who shot a helpless old woman in the head.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither able to intimidate the other. Orizaga said, “So, if we’re through posturing, Mr. Johnson, shall we discuss the money?”
Carl said, “Let’s talk about something else first, something that is now much more important to you, in fact.”
Orizaga held the grin on his face that made his eyes sparkle mischievously. He seemed to be amused by Carl, like he was toying with him right before deciding to have his men kill him.
“And what would that be?”
“You, sir, have twenty-eight hours to live.”
“Excuse me?”
“I came here to negotiate a trade—the money for the antidote. But now I’m thinking you might just give it to me for free.” Carl paused for effect. “I’m infected and now, so are you.”
“We know you were in physical contact with Miss Mallory at the time she became active, but if you were infected, Mr. Johnson, you would be dead or comatose by now. Granted, her activation didn’t go as planned, since she wasn’t supposed to succumb to a seizure so quickly. Nevertheless, the president became infected and spread the virus the way it was intended.” He spread his hands wide. “So forgive me if I don’t fall for your empty threat. You clearly didn’t review, in sufficient detail, all the material you stole from my computer.”
Carl ignored the taunt. “All this so the vice president can exercise some kind of power fantasy and take over the country? And then what?”
Orizaga laughed again. “Mr. Johnson, Vice President Breen is merely a pawn of the Triad. Last year, we were going to approach your CIA with the possibility of funding our newly discovered super-virus—that’s what our virologists call it—but apparently Mr. Breen interceded and decided it was a tool he could use to advance his own agenda against the president. We didn’t mind that, because his agenda advances our own. You see, we—and by we, I mean the Triad—control the virus and the antidote.”
“But you must have given him the antidote already. He’d be a fool to use a viral weapon like this without having a stockpile of the antidote. How can you control what he already has?”
Orizaga spread his arms wide and smiled. “I apologize, Mr. Johnson. I meant viruses and antidotes. Quite by accident, we created an airborne version of the virus. The antidote formula we provided to Mr. Breen was designed to cure the version that is transmitted by touch. It also cures the airborne version, of course, but only if administered within the first ten hours of exposure. After ten hours, the airborne version of the virus mutates within the body and becomes immune to the antidote. At that point, there is no cure but death for the infected, and there is yet no antidote. Mr. Breen knows this.
“However, the clinical trials showed that eight-five percent of those infected with the airborne virus exhibit symptoms well within ten hours. Unfortunately, it is that other fifteen percent that can destroy a country. Mr. Breen was given the physically transmitted version of the virus to make his power play. He was also told that should he fail to heed the wishes of the Triad, we would have no problem releasing the airborne virus on the American population. That virus is especially virulent.”
Carl shrugged. “Okay, so the US government funds the development of enough vaccine to inoculate everyone in the country. In a year, your threat will have no teeth.”
Orizaga shook his head. “I apologize once again, Mr. Johnson, because I don’t think I was clear about the antidote. It isn’t a vaccine. It is only a cure. In fact, if someone who is uninfected takes the antidote, they would be subject to a very fast and very painful death. I’m talking about seconds.”
Carl recalled reading that bit of information in Agent Palmer’s summary report.
“If the airborne virus was released in the US, the computer model predicts ninety-five percent of your population would be decimated.” The man paused and glared at Carl. “The United States would cease to exist in about thirteen days.”
Carl felt an incredible disbelief at what he was hearing. “Have you forgotten about all the nukes they can rain down on your country? You know, mutually assured destruction?”
“Mr. Johnson, the airborne version of the virus is our nuke. You may have many missiles, but this virus can devastate your country just as thoroughly. It can be released at any time, in any place, and no one would ever know. Look how easily and quickly Mr. Breen killed your entire government. We can infect any number of volunteers who merely have to fly into the US and shake someone’s hand or breathe on someone. Then they return home and receive the cure. By the time anyone in your new government realizes the catastrophe is upon them, there won’t be enough people still alive to try to prove whether it was an attack or an accident.
“But that outcome is not in our best interests. Mr. Breen wants to reshape the American government, and we want to reshape the western hemisphere. That’s a lot easier to do with a friendly leader in the White House. Mr. Breen’s decapitation of the current government advances both our agendas.”
“Which is what? Control? You want to subjugate only half the world?”
“It’s about power, Mr. Johnson. Territorial, economic, and military power. By controlling soon-to-be President Breen, the Triad effectively controls the United States. Next we will control Mexico, then Canada, and then all the countries of South America. With the military might of the US, the economic power of the entire western hemisphere, and the natural resources of the entire continent of South America, the Triad will become the first and only geographic mega-power on the planet.”
Orizaga nodded as Carl’s eyebrows tinted. “Think about it, Mr. Johnson. South America has enough oil that, if shared, would end the western hemisphere’s dependence on Middle Eastern oil almost overnight. All the regional conflicts the US is involved with in that part of the world would become irrelevant in mere days. The oil-rich nations would no longer have the power to create strangleholds on our economies. In fact, the oil countries’ severely weakened economies would make them dependent on the new Western Alliance.
“The cheap labor of South American countries will replace that of China in an instant. And, the shared South American natural resources—and I’m specifically referring to everything from lumber to all the rare elements so crucial to the high-tech manufacturing industry—would end our dependence on Europe and Asia forever.”
Carl nodded. “Forever is a long time, and no empire will last that long.” He studied Orizaga and decided the man believed the hype he’d been fed. He sounded more like a cheerleader than an accountant.
“Imagine the strategic value of having powerful US military installations or warships scattered up and down both coasts of the western hemisphere. There’d be nowhere on the planet where we couldn’t project near-instant military superiority. Imagine maintaining a strategic base only a few miles from Antarctica, where we’d have unchallenged access to the untapped natural resources of that continent.”
Carl thought the plan was sound except for the unspoken part, where some nuclear-capable country might start World War Three to counter the US’s territorial expansion. Or, when the existence of Contagion became known to the intel network. History was filled
with empires run by power-hungry madmen who got too big for their britches.
“Well,” Carl said. “It’s a great pipe dream, but what’s in it for you?”
Orizaga smiled again. “Power, of course, and money. And a place in the new regime.”
“That’s assuming you live beyond the next twenty-eight hours.”
“We’re back to that again?”
“You said it yourself, the president’s daughter was supposed to be the carrier, but she wasn’t supposed to succumb to the virus. I was right there with her before, during, and after she went active. It’s true she took a lot of sedative that activated the viral agent, but I had some of that sedative juice too.” He told Orizaga how he tested the sedative juice to prove to Melissa it wasn’t poison.
“After she had her seizure, everyone who touched her wore latex gloves except me. Your plan to create a carrier for this virus was successful, except it wasn’t Melissa Mallory. I had some initial headaches and nausea, but beyond that the virus didn’t affect me. Instead, I unintentionally started all those virus outbreaks throughout Albuquerque, and now, here in Mexico.”
Orizaga’s eyes narrowed and Carl nodded. “No doubt, you’ve heard that the CDC deployed a containment team to Albuquerque, but none of the president’s staff went anywhere near there. You’ll start to hear about outbreaks here soon, too. The virus is spreading throughout this part of the country, but my guess is no one recognizes it for what it is yet. I’ve infected my entire team. Some are already in a coma. And now you have it too. You’ll get sick and die unless you do what I tell you to do.”
“You overlook the simple fact that all I need to do is kill you to end the contagion, and then just go get a dose of the antidote. I’m due at the lab within the hour to raise the security threat level, anyway.”
“Well, perhaps if you told them you’re infected, they’ll give you a dose because they’re all nice people over there, right?” Carl shrugged. “On the other hand, maybe they’ll call one of the Triad bosses for instructions. Maybe they’ll tell them to lock you in isolation. Maybe your father-in-law is still be upset with you because you lost their half-billion dollar investment, or because your security staff let me waltz into your home and kill his daughter and sister. Or, maybe he’ll realize you killed me before I gave back the money. So maybe he’ll keep you in that isolation cell and study the progression of symptoms,” Carl said with a shrug. “Or, maybe they’ll just leave you in there for four days and no one will ever come to visit.”
He could tell Orizaga believed him. “I’m not lying, am I? You’ve already heard about symptoms in the area, haven’t you?”
“What is your proposal, Mr. Johnson? How can you obtain the antidote for…us?”
“I can’t, but Alfonso Reyes can.”
Chapter 44
1310 hours MST Saturday
Northern Mexico
Carl’s assumption was that Alfonso Reyes had been in the secret lab. There’s no way they’d inject Melissa Mallory outside of a lab. Emergency containment and medical treatment had to be available. Carl outlined his plan and let Orizaga process the scenario without saying anything more. He could see the wheels of deception turning behind the man’s eyes.
“Very well. Call your helicopter. We will go to the office building where the lab is located. Reyes’ death was not widely reported, and I have not yet informed the lab personnel.”
Carl nodded and pulled a laser marker from a cargo pocket of his pants. It looked like a five-inch black ink pen, and he pressed the little switch on the end with his thumb. Then he waved the business end at the hovering helicopter. Even from a mile away, the laser marker beam would be a bright flash of red light that was easy to spot.
Within seconds the front of the hovering helicopter dipped as the aircraft sped in his direction. The chopper settled several yards away and both men ducked as they passed the outer threshold of the spinning rotors.
It was an instinctive reaction for Carl. He’d wanted to prove he was tougher than the accountant and simply strut up to the helicopter. After all, his brain told him the rotors were spinning eight feet off the ground, while he topped out at three inches under the six-foot mark. Logically, he had absolutely nothing to worry about. His instinct for survival had a different perspective. The mere thought of metal spinning near his head faster than lawn mower blades made him somehow feel more helpless than a blade of grass. Should the chopper engine suddenly have a burp, the spinning metal might wobble. At least, that’s what his imagination told him. The rotors could separate his head at the shoulders and, manhood be damned, he wouldn’t even have time to scream in pain or surprise. So he ducked.
He got the sliding door behind the pilot open and launched himself into the craft, followed by Orizaga, who then slid the door closed. They sat side by side in the two first-row passenger chairs.
“Don’t worry about contaminating the pilot,” Carl said nonchalantly. “He’s already infected too.”
They were well into the hour-long westward journey to the city of Chihuahua when Carl broke the silence again. “Why would the Triad trust a new president that had murdered his predecessor and his entire government?”
Orizaga looked over and Carl could see that the man’s cocky attitude had sobered somewhat. It was interesting to Carl to watch the man transform before his eyes from being an instigator of trouble to becoming a victim of the very trouble he helped to create.
“I mentioned the real threat before—an infected assassin sent to the US, who would shake the hand of a person who would shake the hand of another, who would shake your hand. Then, the assassin goes home and gets the antidote.”
Carl understood the terror potential of the plan. After all, he was doing pretty much the same thing by intentionally infecting Orizaga. Breen had better toe the line. He would never know the identity of his assassin, or when that man or woman—a diplomat or even a child—would come for him.
The accountant continued. “But that is only part of the strategic alliance. The Triad knows that in the new regime, the issue of trust or treason will be overcome by events. Mr. Breen and the Triad will be in bed together, so to speak. It will do neither any good to rock the boat at that time. There will be plenty of power and profit to satisfy everyone involved.”
“Sooner or later the US will reverse engineer a vaccine. If the Triad hasn’t already figured that out, they’re not as smart as they think they are.”
“They know this,” Orizaga said soberly. “They’re already working on developing new strains that would be immune to the current antidote. They’re conducting the research and tests at a secure location even I don’t know.”
Somehow, that response didn’t surprise Carl. It was the way of war. “A bigger, better weapon,” he muttered.
“A more efficient weapon.”
“Your Triad and the vice president are playing a dangerous game. They thought they were smart enough to control every aspect of the weapon, but no one anticipated someone other than Melissa Mallory would be a carrier. The bug has already slipped containment.”
“Perhaps,” Orizaga said. “But things are far from out of control.”
The city of Chihuahua was a modern city. From a thousand feet up, Carl saw many of the same international name brand stores and food chain restaurants he’d seen in Hermosillo. For some reason Carl had thought Mexico was a third-world nation. He had no particular basis for that conclusion because he’d never been there before two days ago. From what he’d seen in that two days, though, the cities of Mexico were no less modern than any American city of the same size.
There was road construction everywhere. Many streets below had long lines of orange barrels squeezing two or three lanes of traffic down to two or one. Maybe they borrowed the damn things from Albuquerque—the orange-barrel capitol of the world.
As they approached the tallest building in Chihuahua City, Carl spied a huge bus depot off to the right. The squat building covered several acres by itself and was surroun
ded by many more acres of paved concrete serving as parking lots for the buses and a complicated set of bus lanes for arrivals and departures. Out to the left of the helicopter, Carl saw a large park that reminded him of Central Park in New York City. It was surrounded by what he guessed were hotels and apartment buildings of medium height, maybe five to seven stories.
The city below reminded Carl somewhat of Albuquerque or even maybe a city like Phoenix without all the tall buildings. The city was spread out with lots of wide streets with shrub-filled medians, and there was an extensive system of drainage arroyos for channeling rainwater to prevent flooding.
Overall, the earth-tone buildings blended in well with the landscape and scrub, as there was very little grass except in city parks and very few wildly colored buildings. Most of the homes were single story and most of the commercial and retail buildings were two or three stories with few over five stories. In fact, all the buildings over five stories were clustered around the target building that housed the clandestine viral lab.
Blick brought the helicopter to a hover over the painted bulls-eye in the exact center of the landing pad. As he settled the aircraft onto the pad, Orizaga explained that the roof structure of the ten-year-old building was reinforced during the remodel that installed the secret lab in the building.
That made sense to Carl. If one wanted to secretly import or export equipment or secret material—or the daughter of a US president—things went a lot smoother when you could do so from the roof. There was an over-sized freight elevator beside a personnel elevator on the east end of the roof. Next to the elevators was the stairs enclosure.
Carl started counting down from six hundred as soon as he and Orizaga stepped into the elevator. As he and Orizaga rode the elevator in complete silence from the top floor—the seventeenth floor—down to the fifth floor where the labs were located, Carl took time to evaluate his life again. Up to a month ago, he’d been a good soul, a caring friend to many, and a loving father. In the past month, after losing his son to a horrible mistake of identity, he had transitioned into a bad man. He’d done terrible things to good people and to bad people, and he knew he rightly deserved the title of American Terrorist that the media reported. The fact that he’d rescued the president’s daughter and saved FBI Special Agent Cummings, her daughter, and the Chapman family did little to exonerate him or ease his conscience. His previous crimes and his earned reputation as a terrorist were very real, sickening even to himself.
American Terrorist Trilogy Page 56
