“This is unusual,” Black said.
“Something’s up, that’s for sure,” Hawk said.
Both men pushed their way inside the building and found a stark scene. Empty barrels of chemicals were stacked against the back wall on a pallet. Boxes of supplies were broken down and piled up at the foot of an industrial recycling bin. Against the far wall, a pair of haphazardly parked forklifts had pallets sitting on them. The floor was littered with paper, some of it shredded.
“Whoever was just here left in a hurry,” Black said.
“There’s nobody there?” Alex asked.
“Not in the warehouse,” Hawk said. “And if you are working with chemicals, I can’t imagine that you would just leave the back entrance to your lab open and unattended.”
Hawk and Black wove their way through the maze of hallways and eventually found themselves near a corridor full of small labs. Broken vials were on the floor and desks in each room. Equipment was stripped out of the wall and tossed aside, treated as if it were trash.
The two agents worked their way down the dark passage, one room at a time. When they happened upon the last workroom, they found a man in a blue lab coat lying facedown on the floor. Hawk rushed over to the man and knelt beside him. He wasn’t moving, his right hand still clutching a pair of glasses.
Hawk nudged the man gently before rolling him over. The employee groaned as he awoke. He rubbed his face with his hands and then blinked hard several times as he looked up at Hawk.
“Who are you?” the man asked. He had bruises all over his face and arms.
“We were about to ask you the same question,” Hawk said.
“My name is Dr. Peterson.”
Black crouched on his haunches and studied the doctor for a moment before speaking. “Who did this to you?”
Peterson swallowed hard and squinted as he looked up at Black. Then he closed his eyes and moaned, unable or unwilling to answer the question. Hawk wasn’t sure which one it was.
“Dr. Peterson,” Hawk said, gently shaking the man. “Dr. Peterson, who did this to you?”
Peterson rolled back over and opened his eyes. “Get far, far away,” he said. “You don’t want to be here when those men come back.”
“What’s there to come back for?” Black asked. “There isn’t anything left in this place.”
“But there is—and when they realize that they left something behind, they’ll come get it.”
“What did they leave?” Hawk asked.
Peterson turned his head slowly toward the corner of the room, gesturing toward it.
“They left something over there?” Black asked.
“You’ll find it in those doors,” Peterson said.
Hawk rushed over and flung open the doors to an industrial cooler. Wispy cold air rolled out, chilling him. He strode inside and found trays full of vials stacked against the far wall. Hawk grabbed one tray and brought it out with him.
“What’s this, Doc?” Hawk asked.
“That’s what they’ll come back here to get,” Peterson said. “That’s the antidote.”
“The antidote for what?” Black asked.
“For the virus that Obsidian is going to use to infect the world.”
Hawk nodded. “And how do you know this?”
“Because I was here from the first day, though I never realized what we were really doing until it was too late. Then when I tried to get out, I was strong armed into remaining.”
“Your family?” Black asked.
“My only daughter,” Peterson said. “She’s married now and has a child, but I don’t think I could go on without her. I already lost my son and wife in a car accident about ten years ago. Losing my daughter would be too much to bear.”
“But you resisted today?” Hawk said. “Why?”
“The more I thought about it, I decided to say the hell with it. If they killed my daughter, what difference would it make? She was probably going to die anyway if they launched this disease on the world.”
“What’s it called?” Black asked.
“They call it El Diablo, and they’re ready to unleash it.”
“Where did they go?” Hawk asked.
“Beats me,” Peterson said. “All I know is that this place was cleaned out last night, and I heard one of the supervisors talking about Doom’s Day.”
“We would’ve all been screwed if you hadn’t saved this antidote,” Hawk said.
Peterson shook his head. “Nobody’s saved yet. I need to reverse engineer this stuff—and I have no idea how much of the chemicals are available worldwide. Obsidian bought a ton of the ingredients, and they aren’t cheap. You still need to stop it from launching, if you can.”
Hawk stood and walked toward the door. “Alex, are you getting all this?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Call Blunt and tell him what Peterson has. We need to arrange to get Peterson to Washington and make sure that he has a lab with top security so he can start manufacturing this antidote when he gets there.”
“I’ll get that going, but I found something else of interest,” she said.
“What is it?” Hawk asked.
“I started wondering about McWilliams,” Alex said. “We should’ve never cut him loose.”
“We couldn’t hold a sitting senator like that, not without proof of him committing a crime.”
“It’s all a moot point now, but you said we would be watching him—and we weren’t watching him closely enough.”
Hawk sighed. “What did he do, Alex?”
“I tracked his private plane,” she said. “He took off an hour ago from Jacksonville.”
“Do you know where he was headed?”
“His plane is making an approach to land at the busiest airport in the world as we speak.”
“Do you think that’s where they’re going to . . .”
“It seems like a logical choice to me,” Alex said. “And given what we know, we can’t afford to ignore this.”
CHAPTER 26
Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport
Atlanta, Georgia
ALEX STUFFED ALL of the team’s gear into a few bags and requested an Uber ride to the airport. With Obsidian already out of town with everything they needed to infect millions of people, she didn’t have time to wait for the guys to swing back by and pick her up. They all needed to get in the air as soon as possible and hope that there was enough time to prevent the launch of a killer disease.
Instead of making polite conversation with the Uber driver, Alex slunk down in her seat in the back and called Blunt. The man driving didn’t seem to mind as he tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the Bob Marley song blasting through his sound system.
“What did you find?” Blunt asked as answered his phone.
“It’s not good,” Alex said. “I haven’t even had a chance to fully debrief with Hawk yet, but the Pantheon lab was completely cleaned out.”
Blunt let out a string of expletives, cursing so loudly that Alex had to hold the phone away from her ear while he ranted.
“You done?” Alex asked. “Because that’s not even the worst of it.”
“What could possibly be worse than that?”
“The disease is ready to weaponized since Obsidian now has an antidote for it,” she said.
“And you know this how?”
“We found one doctor still alive after Obsidian gathered up everything and split,” Alex said. “The poor doc had been beaten as well as threatened if he ever said anything. He somehow survived and managed to save a few hundred vials of the antidote.”
“Can he help us?”
“He’s volunteered to reverse engineer it so that Obsidian is unable to withhold the antidote from people who don’t do their bidding.”
“I’ll get him anything he wants here in Washington.”
“I figured you would,” Alex said. “But there’s more.”
“Alex, I swear it’s not a good idea for me to start popping
antacid pills this early in the morning.”
“Sorry, sir. I’m only reporting what I know.”
“Go on.”
“This is arguably the worst part—I tracked McWilliams’s plane online. He was in Jacksonville last night, and they’re making an approach to land at the Atlanta airport.”
Blunt broke into another cursing fit. “What’s that damn noise?”
“It’s the Uber driver’s music, sir,” she said.
“A what driver?”
“Uber—oh, never mind. Look, can you help out? We need to call someone in Atlanta with Homeland Security and see if they can evacuate the airport before the whole place becomes Obsidian’s private petri dish.”
Blunt sighed. “I’ve got someone there I can call on, though I’d rather not.”
“If you don’t, millions of people could die and this disease could spread across the world in a matter of days—and it’d be too late by then.”
“Damn it, Alex. You aren’t making this any easier on me. If you only knew how much it pained me to call this asshole.”
“Bite the bullet,” she said. “This is for humanity. I’m sure you can justify trading a favor in this instance.”
“Fine. I’ll give him a call, but I want the record to show that I don’t like this.”
Alex chuckled. “Since when have you let the record show that you liked anything?”
“I think the year was 1982. There was a nice chardonnay that came out of the south of France.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “I’m at the airport. I’ve gotta run. We’ll talk soon.”
* * *
BLUNT HUNG UP with Alex and then buzzed Linda. He asked her to find the cell number for John Pembroke, the deputy secretary for Homeland Security. Pembroke had been a hotshot lawyer in Washington before running for congress in his home state of Minnesota. He only served one term before being trounced in his re-election campaign, but he served while Blunt was still in office. And the two clashed often over policy positions.
Despite their differences, Blunt maintained a semi-cordial relationship with Pembroke, which only boiled over when the Minnesota Vikings played the Dallas Cowboys. But Blunt knew the truth about Pembroke. While he was a friendly fellow, he had a dark side. Hawk chose to plug his ears and close his eyes whenever people started talking about what Pembroke was really into. Blunt didn’t want to know. Plausible deniability was a politician’s best friend, and Blunt intended to keep it that way. However, the thought of calling on Pembroke for a favor meant Blunt would have to dole out one in return. And that wasn’t something he was excited about.
Blunt dialed Pembroke’s number and waited for him to answer.
“As I live and breathe,” Pembroke said after picking up. “If it isn’t the great J.D. Blunt. I must be living right to get a call from you.”
“Or not,” Blunt said. “I could be calling to let you know that we’re about to arrest you and throw you in prison—and that you better run.”
Pembroke laughed. “Why on earth would you have to do such a thing? I live a quiet and clean life these days. As I recall, you’re the one who should be on the run, hiding in the gray areas.”
“I won’t dispute that claim,” Blunt said. “I’ve done many things to avoid other U.S. government operatives, but, no matter what I do, they always seem to find me.”
“Those pesky FBI agents.”
“Well, as you might have guessed based on the length between now and the last time I contacted you, I have a problem,” Blunt said.
“Are you in trouble?”
“No, but thousands of innocent Americans might be in a matter of minutes if a terrorist group has its way at the Atlanta airport.”
The mention of the Atlanta airport perked up Pembroke.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“There’s a terrorist organization that has weaponized a disease and intends to disseminate it at the Atlanta airport this morning.”
“That’s insane,” Pembroke said. “They’re going to infect people flying all over the world.”
“Yes, and then those people will infect their communities,” Blunt said. “It’s going to spread like wildfire, and there won’t be much of a way to stop it.”
“But you think we can by shutting down the Atlanta airport?” Pembroke asked.
“It’s the only way. Of course if we do our jobs, it will look like nothing happened. But that’s far more important than whether or not we look like we know what we’re doing. Am I right?”
Pembroke was silent. All Blunt could hear was a long sigh and a few cars honking in the background.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Blunt continued, “but I’ m telling you this so you can help thousands of people avoid getting infected and spreading a deadly disease all over the world. If there was another way, you bet I’d pursue it. But there isn’t, so . . .”
“I understand,” Pembroke said. “You want me to order a temporary shutdown of the Atlanta airport so we can sniff out any perpetrators?”
“You got it.”
“Consider it done,” Pembroke said. “Better not make me look like a fool.”
“I’d never do that in a million years, though you have chosen to be a fan of the Minnesota Vikings. That’s being a fool to the nth degree. There’s not much I can do for you there.”
“We’ll see soon enough,” Pembroke said.
“So, you’ll take care of that for me?” Blunt asked.
“As soon as I hang up, I’ll give the order for the entire airport to be evacuated,” Pembroke said.
* * *
HAWK, ALEX, AND BLACK landed at the Atlanta airport and raced over toward the commercial terminals. When they arrived, Homeland Security agents swarmed over the common areas. Bomb sniffing dogs moved up and down the different waiting zones, which had been cleared of all passengers.
Hawk found the agent in charge to learn more about what was going on.
“Tyler Goodman,” the man said, offering his hand to Hawk.
“Pleased to meet you,” Hawk said after introducing himself. “We’re partially responsible for all of this.”
“So you know who’s behind this?” Goodman asked.
“I’m not at liberty to divulge all the details, but, yes, I know who’s driving this thing. What have you found so far?”
“A big fat nothing burger,” Goodman said. “I don’t even think I’ve heard any dog in this K-9 unit bark. I’m starting to think someone pranked you.”
Hawk shook his head. “I doubt that. There are so many moving parts to this investigation that I’m not willing to rule it out, but all signs point to this being the place that if anything serious is going to happen, this is the ideal location where it would go down.”
“And we’re talking about a bomb, aren’t we?” Goodman asked.
“No, your bomb dogs aren’t gonna find a single thing that we’re searching for.”
“It’d be nice to know what that is now.”
Hawk nodded. “We’re looking for some device that can turn a liquid into mist. It doesn’t have to be all that big—it just needs to be near a large number of people.”
Goodman rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “I know I saw something in one of those locations earlier today.”
“You think it was a device like I mentioned?”
“Maybe,” Goodman said. “It was in the international concourse.”
“That’d make the most sense,” Hawk said.
Alex and Black struck off to search in other areas of the building, but Hawk sensed that he was onto something real.
Hawk and Goodman raced toward the trains and boarded quickly. In a matter of minutes, the airport transportation had taken them from one end of the facility all the way to the farthest reaches. Once the doors slid open, Hawk followed Goodman up a moving escalator until they reached the main lobby area.
Frantically searching all over the open space devoid of any people milling around, Goodman didn’t find anything.<
br />
“Are you sure this threat is legit?” Goodman asked.
“It’s real, all right,” Hawk said. “We’re just not entirely sure where it is.”
“As in, you don’t know if it’s even at this airport?”
Hawk nodded. “Just keep looking.”
After a few more minutes of searching, Goodman shook his head. “I think y’all were played as fools.”
Hawk groaned and continued to scour the airport. Despite a thorough search, it appeared as if there wasn’t any device capable of disseminating any disease into the air. Reconnecting with the rest of the team, Hawk discussed it over with Alex and Black. They didn’t find a shred of evidence either.
Hawk volunteered to call Blunt and let him know the bad news.
“This couldn’t get any worse,” Blunt said. “Obsidian is running around with this disease just waiting to unleash it on the world and we don’t have a clue where they are or where they’re going to use it. Not to mention that I now owe John Pembroke a favor. Do you know how infuriating that is?”
“I’m sorry,” Hawk said. “We were just following the evidence.”
“No, you were chasing a red herring. Meanwhile, Obsidian has vanished from our radar.”
Alex tugged on Hawk’s arm as he continued his conversation. He held up his index finger and stared out the window in front of one of the gates.
“I think I know where they’re going to strike,” Alex whispered.
Hawk stopped. “Wait a minute,” he told Blunt. “Alex has an idea of where they’re going to strike.”
“Where is it?” Hawk asked.
She pointed to the television screen where a story was airing about the final general assembly for the United Nations that was scheduled to take place tomorrow. President Young was slated to speak and offer closing remarks.
“What do you think about that idea?” Hawk asked.
“It certainly fits Obsidian’s MO—infect the most powerful people in the country and only offer them the antidote in exchange for a favor,” Blunt said.
“And use the ambassadors to infect every single nation on earth,” Hawk said. “There’s more of a guarantee to spread this disease worldwide using the UN as a launching point.”
Any Means Necessary Page 15
