Project Apollo

by B. B. Gallagher

  “I hear you have a game for us?!” Fiona sized up Ezra. “Let’s play.”

  “Alright… now everyone else… leave,” Ezra instructed.

  “If you think I’m going to leave her here with you alone, you are crazy,” Xander explained.

  “Oh, but Xander, you have so much work to do. Remember you’re the hero in the field,” Ezra spoke patronizingly.

  “I’ll be alright. I can take him.” She smiled back at her husband, excited to be back. A glint behind her glacier blue eyes flashed her excitement for the mission.

  Xander walked up to Fiona and brought her in close. An inch from her ear he whispered into it.

  “Don’t let him in your head.”

  “I’m a woman, he’s a man… trust me… he can’t get in it,” she quipped. Xander pulled back and arched his eyebrows as if to say, I’m serious. She nodded her understanding and craned her head toward the door, motioning him to go on without her. Xander accepted a satellite phone from Cusick and then held it out for his wife.

  “Keep in touch…” he directed with an unease, before turning to the other Spartans.

  “Alright… Let’s head out team.” And so, they turned and headed for the bay doors.

  On the other side of them Xander looked back at his wife and the terrorist they once called a friend. Breaking his gaze, the Compound doors closed them in.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Wait, wait, wait! Fiona is a Russian double!” Mac stated. The Spartans had convened at Mac’s apartment. He didn’t seem as open to the news as the others had been. Behind the controls of the computers, he was used to knowing everything about everyone – no one had secrets from him.

  “We had to fake her defection to get her out of this life… we wanted to get married and we did.” Xander fished his wedding ring and slid it over his finger. “But we couldn’t live in this life together.” Xander explained to which the others in the room confirmed. Mac shifted in his stance, consulted the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. After processing the news through great consternation, he surrendered, applauding Xander for his ability to make someone hide in plain sight to his all-watching eye.

  “Do you know how many hours I’ve searched for her… you’re an asshole… and remember when I took you to lunch to check on how you were doing, like the good friend that I am?” Mac led Xander.

  “Yeah,” Xander responded.

  “I take back everything I said and you’re paying me back for that!” A chorus of laughter broke the tension. Xander nodded agreement and turned the focus back to the mission at hand.

  “Why don’t you process all of this and I’ll call Tobias.” Xander dug his phone out of his pack and dialed. After a couple short rings, the other end answered.

  “How’s it going?” He cradled the phone in his neck.

  “F…F…Fine… But X…Xander its hard t…t…to do anything without a sample. I’ve got n…n…nothing to test!” Xander could hear Tobias rooting around his messy lab.

  “I’m sure there will be something to test soon.”

  “I n…n…need someone w…who knows w…w…what this thing is!”

  “Don’t worry about that, I’ve got a plan. Prepare your hazmats and make sure to set up a sterile work area, we’re working on it.”

  “You g…got it, boss… Is it Ezra?” Tobias’s voice dropped.

  “Yeah it’s him.” Xander heard Tobias stutter an obscenity. “We’ll be in touch.” He ended the call and turned to the computer monitors.

  “Whatcha got?” Mac had returned to the mission at hand and left any lingering resentment for another day. He punched a set of keys and brought up the surveillance feed from the NIH break in.

  “Okay, so we know this guy is Azir. But who is that?” He pointed at the figure huddled in a ball, rocking back and forth. He rewound the tape to its beginning to catch the woman walking back to her workstation, facing the camera’s eye.

  He zoomed in the feed to focus on her face, which was distorted through her protective suit.

  “Can’t really see her face through that plastic suit. Can you?”

  “No, I can’t,” Cusick offered. “Did you try hacking into the NIH security logs to find her access swipe?”

  “Good point, Damien, but… of course I did, here’s who we’ve got.” He pulled Catherine Mueller’s digital file on a monitor for everyone to see.

  “Catherine Mueller, Oxford graduate, she started in Immunological Studies, Parasitology and Epidemiology, her thesis was on the fragility of mitotic division. She graduated with highest honors. During a short stint at the CDC she published dozens of papers: Multifactorial Analysis of Variance, Sequence Determination, Electron Microscopy… She’s done it all. Now, she works at the NIH and lives in Bethesda and is noted for her continued work oversees in the field as a contamination expert,” Mac explained, astonished. His eyes found the personal notes of the file. “Divorced parents, deceased sister… Judging by the surveillance feed she worked on the bacteria for two hours before the heist.” Mac spun from his computer to deliver the final and most important point. “She’s the only person who has seen it.”

  “Where is she now?” Seamus asked – Xander remained silent.

  “She has been admitted to George Washington University Hospital. No medical records. But after hacking into hospital security I can see her room is guarded.”

  “Why would it be guarded?” Ashton piped in.

  “I don’t know, but those aren’t military, their US Marshals.”

  “Protecting her, keeping people out,” Ashton posited.

  “Or keeping her in…” Xander’s voice trailed as his vision fixated on her picture.

  Her face was dominated by her hook nose and thick black glasses. Her honey colored hair was pulled back for the photo. She wasn’t an attractive woman, but her smile was authentic with a goofy sparkle in it. Xander consulted the yearbook of headshots in his head and when his mental scan found its match it rested on the memory of a woman. His mouth dropped.

  “I’ve met her…”

  “What?!” Mac asked.

  “She was my doctor...” Xander recalled his last annual checkup. Mac turned back to Xander from his chair.

  “Like your Spartan issued physician or what…” Xander transfixed on the profile.

  “She was at my doctor’s office in Great Falls...” Spartans often used their own doctors for medical workups.

  “How long have you been her patient?” Mac asked.

  “I wasn’t really, she filled in for Dr. Stansbury for my monthly blood work up once when he went on vacation. I remembered she mentioned that her primary field was infectious diseases,” he recalled.

  “We need to extract her and bring her in… she’s the only one who knows this bacterium.” Xander gazed at the screen of a new player for his team. He remembered Ezra’s words.

  You can have as much help as you want. You are sure going to need it.

  Chapter 11

  Great Falls, Virginia

  Four Months Prior

  Catherine Mueller entered the examination room, head down scanning a file. She sniffed her thick glasses back up the bridge of her nose and searched for the name it.

  “Mr…. Templeton?” She looked up after having found it, meeting Xander’s eyes.

  “Yes.” Xander used his civilian alter-ego at his local medical center that sent out his blood work. As Templeton, Xander softened to a forgettable, timid man.

  “What brings you in today? Doesn’t seem like you have much of a history here…” she opened a largely empty file.

  “Just an annual check-up,” Xander assured her.

  “Okay, sounds good… I’m still getting use to this patient thing.”

  “Are you not typically a physician?” he asked.

  “Well, I am a physician, but I have been focusing on lab work primarily. I specialize in infectious disease, but the agency lets me come in every so often for standard work ups.” She lifted her gaze back up to Xander and offered
further explanation. “…for clinical hours.”

  “I see…” he responded.

  “Well, I’ll get some blood work done and check some vitals. Okay?” Xander nodded.

  After a few moments, Catherine returned with a phlebotomist cart. She dug into its drawers and lined up a butterfly syringe, alcohol wipe, tourniquet, and a series of empty vials for the blood draw. She rolled up Xander’s sleeve, revealing a ripped arm, bulging with veins. Her expression furrowed in concern and shock upon seeing the many scars up and down his arms.

  “I might not even need this!” She threw the tourniquet aside, turning back her focus to the scars again. “So… what do you do for a living, Mr. Templeton?” She asked over a faint chuckle. She began to rub a cold alcoholic swab over his most prominent vein.

  “I’m a business consultant,” he played back.

  “Get in many bar fights as a business consultant?” she asked.

  “You’d be surprised.” Xander smiled out of the corner of his mouth. The charm seemed to placate her curiosity, as she smiled back.

  “I forgot to ask are you allergic to anything?” Xander shook his head.

  “Any history of tuberculosis in your family?” He shook it again.

  “Have you had any major surgeries?” This was a loaded question for someone like Xander Whitt, but he again responded with a short shake.

  The syringe came down to his vein and punctured it with a short pinch. Blood began to fill up the tube as Catherine fastened an empty vial on the syringe.

  “So, tell me about the world of infectious diseases.” Xander kept the conversation going.

  “It’s nothing spectacular… A lot of lab time in goofy, inflatable suits.”

  “You wear one of those big air suits?”

  “Yep… they really bring out my curves.” She joked back, exchanging the full vial for an empty one.

  “So, where do you work?” Xander liked to know all his civilian contacts well, in case he’d ever need to run a background check on them.

  “A lot of places really, but over the last few years I’ve been contracting with the NIH in Bethesda.”

  “Woah… the big leagues.” She switched vials again to keep the flow going. “You’re taking a lot of blood…”

  “I prefer to do a full workup.”

  “I hope it’s okay… you’ll find a lot of pressure in there…” he quipped.

  “Stressful job?”

  “You could say that.” After a smile she twisted off the last vial from the syringe. She grabbed a small fold of gauze and pressed it down at the point of insertion and slid the needle out. “Apply some pressure for me will ya?” Xander complied as Catherine hastened to break down the blood kit. After taping the gauze down on Xander’s arm, she brought her hands together for her diagnosis.

  “Okay… I will get this blood to the lab and we will let you know the results. Any questions for me?” she asked.

  “Nope...” Xander responded.

  “Okay then.”

  “Well thanks, Dr. Mueller.” Xander hopped off the patient table.

  “You’re most welcome.” Xander walked out to the hallway and toward the checkout. Dr. Mueller called down the hall and added one more thing.

  “Oh and Mr. Templeton?” she asked. Xander turned back to her.

  “Yes?”

  “Try not to get in as many bar fights!”

  Xander smiled at her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Chapter 12

  Number One Observatory Circle

  Washington DC

  2AM

  Vice President Tom Johnson dropped a couple more ice cubes into his scotch glass. His tie was loosened, his sleeves were rolled up. His family was asleep, as he sat in his study amidst the still quiet of the night. With a high approval rating and strong foreign policy initiatives in place he was showing himself to be a potential commander-in-chief in the upcoming elections. Along the road to his political stardom, he had been called by some, Brutus, for his infamous backstabbing tactics to further his own political gain.

  No matter what political enemies he had accrued throughout his years, a litany of journalists and judges remained in his back-pocket. And despite the opinion of his political party, the public found him charming and trustworthy. He often vacillated from issue to issue, following the public’s pulse, rather than his own morality or ideology. He tried to position himself as a champion for whatever cause was at the forefront of public discourse. His methods, although despised by many, had lifted him through the ranks and all the way to Number One Observatory Circle – the Vice Presidential residence.

  This night, the past had caught up to him. After lying awake in bed for three hours he attempted to start a chemically induced coma through his bottle of 25-year-old scotch. After the first two glasses he should have been out cold, but he was on glass four and he couldn’t shake what he had heard in the Situation Room that morning.

  His blurry vision rose to a painting behind his desk. He was not focused on the brushstrokes or the image on the canvas, rather his eyes beamed through it, wondering of the contents that lay behind it. He had been consulting the painting for the last two hours, unsure of whether he wanted to open the safe behind it and the past that would open along with it.

  Could it all be connected?

  The Vice President threw back the last two gulps of scotch for courage and proceeded to the painting behind his desk. With a quick motion it swung off the wall hinged like a door. His hand turned the dial of his safe until it clicked into place. He opened the steel door and dug under years of confidential files, until he found one of his earliest file, one purposefully buried. The manila envelope had the red stamp Confidential on it. He exhaled all his nerves and opened the file, reading the words at the top.

  The Ivory Tower Sessions

  Chapter 13

  George Washington University Hospital

  Washington, DC

  3AM

  Xander walked the halls of the fifth floor of the GWU Hospital, passing patient rooms on either side until he spotted the marshals down the hall. He cut left into a supply closet. There was a washer and dryer, in which he found a pair of blue doctor scrubs. After retrieving a surgeon’s disguise, he approached the nurse’s station where he met a tall blonde in a nurse’s uniform. It was Ashton.

  “Hello Doctor, how are you doing this evening?”

  “Fine Candice, thank you.” He double checked her name tag to ensure he got the alias right.

  They began walking a lap of the ward together. Clearing a group of flustered nurses, they broke character for a brief moment.

  “Are you ready for this?” Xander asked out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Of course, it’s the US Marshals – Busch league.” They chuckled and quickened their step, turning at the end of the ward toward Catherine’s guarded room.

  “We have to get in there right now!” Xander was stopped by a hand of one of the guards. “Excuse me!” He played offended.

  “No one can go in there.” The guard’s voice was plain and direct.

  “Her vitals are crashing! Do you want her to die on your watch?!” Ashton exclaimed. The guards looked at each other for a moment. The guard who stopped Xander nodded to the other.

  “Go in with them.” He spun through the door and Xander and Ashton followed. Immediately after passing through the door, Ashton pulled a sedative from her uniform and inserted it into the guard’s neck. Covering his mouth, Ashton caught him as he fell limp. It was a silent take down. The other guard at the door remained at his post.

  “90 mm of dofetilide!” Xander barked loud enough for the guard to hear him, as he fixed the US Marshal’s comm around his ear.

  “She’s losing oxygen!” Ashton responded as she slapped Catherine awake. Groggy, Catherine started to come around. Slow to get up and unaware of her surroundings she was ushered to her feet. Xander nodded to Ashton, who was equipped with another sedative.

  “We need help in here! Sir, we nee
d a hand!” The guard turned the corner of the doorframe to see a syringe soaring his way, end over end, sticking him in the shoulder. His body slowly succumbed to the medication and then collapsed. Turning the corner were two agents who just witnessed their colleague fall to the ground.

  “Code Red, need back up! Mueller’s room fourth floor!” After sending the Code Red, they drew their firearms and approached the hospital room. As the firearm passed through the doorway it was met by a metal sheet, instruments flew in every direction. The firearm fell to the floor. Xander charged and engaged with the first guard, while Ashton took on the second one.

  They exchanged jabs and hooks – blocked and batted away. Xander connected with a rib shot that was only stopped by a crunching of bone. The marshal kicked off getting space to assess the damage. Xander hit a cabinet hard and found a drawer, where he found a scalpel. Huddled over but still in the fight the marshal reengaged Xander. Xander slashed quick and direct, cutting his fist loose. The tendons in his hand snapped and retreated back into his wrist. Blood sprayed on the floor. Xander extended a hard kick into the man’s gut sending him onto his back and out of the fight.

  Ashton stood with Catherine propped up on her hip. Xander searched for her marshal, who was unconscious seated up against the wall.

  “What took you so long?!”

  “I had to bandage him up, can’t you see I’m a doctor after all” Xander snatched the unconscious marshal’s earpiece from him and twisted it into his ear. She handed Catherine over to him who was still unable to maintain her own weight.

  “Get the car.” He threw the keys that she caught in stride and booked it down the hall. Xander was slowed by Catherine’s weight, but listened carefully to the US Marshal’s team communication through his earpiece.

  “We have the east staircase, heading to the fourth floor,” a voice chimed.