“Olson says it has all the right aspects to be taken seriously: a specific target, a motive, a weapon and the fact it's getting wired to every damn media outlet. Implies the guy wants a big bang and the fame.”
“Yeah but don’t terrorists tend to keep quiet until after the show's over?’
“Groups do; a loner doesn’t necessarily if he wants to create fear. He wants the attention. Yet psychologically this guy writes like he's the hero. He performs a little badness to stop a bigger evil. That implies he’s not playing with a full deck.”
“Think it’s someone trying a little death by cop? A wirehead popping out big time maybe?”
“I don’t know but we've seen too many damn biological incidents lately. Have you seen this?” Dorado tossed a file over which spilled out pictures of a burned house.
McAfee thumbed through the pictures slowly and then scanned the report. “Yeah, I heard about it from Charro. Did they find bodies?”
“No, although the fire was definitely arson. The report came in late yesterday afternoon. The fire pretty much destroyed the house. When the investigators started in, all hell broke loose when they found some glassware and the remains of an incubator. They also found maps and schedules of today’s events. The owner of the house gave us copies of the renter’s ID. The ID turned out to be fake but the name listed was James Mitchell.”
“Holy shit, Olsen’s ghost.”
“Yeah,” Dorado rubbed the side of his jaw. “Problem is, Mitchell burnt the place to cover his tracks yesterday. We got a picture of what may be his family that we can use to track him down. We got fingerprints but Sherrie’s found no match so far except to the APB the military put out.”
“What about military files?”
“We’ve asked the Army to run the pictures of the women. If they got a hit, they haven’t told us.”
“The threat doesn’t use a name. You think the threat is connected to Mitchell?”
“I think when a person destroys their base of operation; they’re preparing to make their move. Whether the threat is related or not, we got every indication of a potential bad guy out there. The lone wolf is the worst scenario and now we’ve got one. We’ve contacted LaCroix too and faxed everything over to him. FBI agrees it is a credible threat but they are as stumped as we are. They can’t help with any kind of manhunt because their people are all wrapped up monitoring museum exhibits so the damn Chinese delegates can play tourists.”
“So we’ve got fingerprints and a picture of a guy who by all forms of ID does not exist. So far, the ladies in the photograph don’t exist either. Let’s put all three people’s pictures and notice on the patrol’s com-units. Print up some posters on Mitchell himself and circulate them at all the Museums' security posts.” McAfee said.
“Yeah, I’m thinking the same. Work up a poster. Put it on the legal hypernet system with a priority red status. Take the printouts down to the checkpoints. Taylor’s on the Smithsonian Mall and Cardell is working the Monument area. Charro’s working the Capitol area. Have the pictures at every checkpoint and give the crowd control officers notice too. Chances are, he’ll be down there sometime today.
McAfee’s feet thumped when they hit the floor, “Okay, I'll make up the posters now.” He turned to his computer, activating the screen.
“Brian.”
McAfee turned to face him.
“When you go to the checkpoints, tell folks to consider the guy potentially armed and dangerous. He’s only to be approached with extreme caution. I don’t want any dead heroes at the end of the day.”
McAfee nodded solemnly, “Will do, chief.”
The nine o’clock message faded off the screen as the last address, a biographer’s email address blinked off the screen. The message ran long and therefore was more risky to send. Mitchell didn't worry. He closed the com unit with a soft snap. They knew all about him by now, but it didn’t matter. He felt like the walking dead, existing as only a shadow on society. The police, the Army, they’d all searched to no avail. He sipped the cooling coffee while watching the other customers around the Internet café. The police might trace the message back but he’d be long gone. This particular machine, like the other nine, contained data artifacts from BL-4, progress reports, lab analysis and lists of product, the few pieces of evidence he’d amassed in those last days before they burned the place to the ground. When the machine was found abandoned, the new owner might break the password—nine com-units acting like nine seeds of truth that he had strewn all over the Mall area.
He stood, cleaning his table of trash and then quietly slipped out of the crowded shop and out the front door. The day shone bright and breezy, the dew having burned off earlier. Sunlight glinted off the water falling down the walls of the Navy Memorial outside the Navy/Archive station. Children played on the metal sailor statue and the seating area in the large plaza as the sound of popping flags filled the air.
Olsen swung open the glass door without knocking as McAfee stood by it, ready to leave. “Another message came in at 9:00. It’s unsigned but definitely from the same guy.”
“What do you have?” Dorado demanded, glancing down at his watch with a frown.
She set the small stack of papers in front of him. “It took time to print out and it’s just a long list of names. The threat assess program won't work on this because it has no actual analyzable content.”
“How do you know it is the same guy?”
“It's also signed Bio Lab-4.”
Dorado pulled the papers forward. McAfee moved round the desk and read over his shoulder. The first line was larger and bold. It read, “Members and Relatives of Members of Army Base Bio-Lab 4, then a column of names that ran for pages. Military rankings and titles filled the middle column before each name. The first line read, “Daryl Stegan, Colonel and commander of BL-4.” Dorado scanned through the pages. The list included words such as veterinarian, viral expert, microbiologist, and medical doctor. Yet he saw other labels of secretary, store clerk and administration. He noted with a sickening feeling that some of the names only had the label “spouse” or “child” next to the name.
Sherrie spoke, “It is about 450 names.” She pulled out a chair by the table and sat. “I haven’t run any of them yet because I knew you’d want to see it. I’ve asked Jacobson to try to do a back trace on the emails. Maybe we can get a location on the guy. Meanwhile, I’ve run a search on the phrase “Bio Lab-4 and Dawson”
“And?”
“Nothing on Bio Lab-4 that makes sense.”
“Did you check the military hypernet?” McAfee reached over and took the list that Dorado offered.
She glared at him, “The open records, yes. Anything else isn’t as easy to do and takes a couple of security authorizations that I don’t have. Real military base and top-secret programs won't be listed on any machine tied to any 'net. Too much chance of someone hacking in.”
“You said if it's real.” Dorado turned to her. “You think the guy's lying?”
“It's hard to keep a whole base secret. The base would need to be located somewhere extremely remote.”
“Like North Dakota?” McAfee replied.
“Parts of it are still very unsettled. Dawson is a legitimate small town in North Dakota but nothing on the city or county’s website indicates any military presence.” She gestured at McAfee. “Turn to the last two pages.”
He thumbed through, came to the page, and read aloud. “Killed in a plane crash in Utah to hide the truth.”
“I remember that incident.” Olsen said, “It happened late last April. A small troop transport crashed in the middle of the state, killing everyone on board.”
“So?”
“So the guy uses a lot of facts to support his delusion.”
Dorado broke in, “Some psychotic delusions can be pretty complicated. You don’t think this guy’s story is for real?”
Sherrie sighed and bit her lip. “I don’t know. We don’t know that Mitchell is the one sending us the m
essages but it's clear by the two military deaths Mitchell has access to some very dangerous stuff. If this guy’s Mitchell, he’s either weaving his fantasy in and out of known fact or he's telling the truth.”
“The government killed 450 people just to hide a secret?” McAfee’s mouth quirked, suppressing a smile.
“It’s not completely unthinkable,” she replied.
“You’ve been spending too much time on the conspiracy websites.”
“The military wants him back.” She shrugged, “Why try to track down a delusional nut? They may believe that some of his story is real.”
McAfee shrugged, “Well, he’s thought to have killed a general and a colonel.”
Sherrie nodded, ignoring the sarcastic tone, “We don’t know what they think. All we know is that a general goes into the hospital and they put an APB out on Mitchell for questioning. We’re assuming they’re linked. But here’s a man claiming to have lived at a secret bio-weaponry lab and two cases of freakish diseases show up. I think we need to assume he’s capable of proving his claim.”
“Either way, let’s catch the bastard first, then we can decide if he is legit. Brian, get those posters to the Mall.” Dorado said to McAfee,
“Okay, chief. I’ll take one of the motor bikes. It’ll be quicker than trying to get a car through that madhouse.” McAfee headed out the door without another word.
Olsen started to leave. “Sherrie wait,” Dorado called out. She sat back down as he picked up the phone and asked for additional manpower in the computer room. He turned to her and smiled. She responded with a small smile that lit up her eyes in a way he rarely saw in the office. “Okay. According to the email header, these threats went out to all the major networks. Any reaction from the news feeds?”
“Nothing in the airwaves yet. A friend at channel six told me a few days ago that they get bombarded with the fake threats on holidays but they don’t have the filtering system we do. They’re not going to take any one message seriously unless their researchers uncover something tangible. Luckily, today’s events and the furor over the Chinese delegates are eating up all the news cycle.”
“We've got a break there then.”
“Only a reprieve,” She answered slowly. “If a reporter finds him first, they'll take him seriously and air his story all day long.”
Dorado nodded, “Okay, Let’s beat the reporters to the information then. Call your contacts at the military and let them know we might have a possible hit off James Mitchell. Tell them about the burned house and send over the rental information we have. Let’s see what kind of hornet’s nest that stirs up. In the meantime, I’ve got four more people under your direct control. Put one on finding this Dawson, North Dakota and making some phone calls.”
“Why?”
“Even people on top secret military bases buy groceries and get dresses for their wives and toys for their kids. The post office delivers the mail to the base. The local law enforcement would know about a military settlement. Hell, chances are, they've locked up some of the teenagers for getting rowdy. If no one there has seen it, then it’s probably in the guy’s head.”
“Good idea.”
“Put the others on this list and have them focus on the unusual names first. This is priority one for the moment. Research everything you can get on any name going back to April and beyond. There has got to be some records: births, deaths, school records, whatever you can find.”
“What am I looking for?” She inquired curiously.
“I don’t know, some kind of connection that shows that they lived in Dawson or enlisted in the military.” He flipped through the pages then stopped and drew a circle. “Start with these names. If he stays on schedule, we’ve got another 45 minutes until the next message. See what you find.”
She looked at the mark on the paper. It outlined “Carolyn Mitchell, veterinarian” and “Katherine Mitchell, child.”
Sherrie opened the glass doors again at 10:05, papers clutched in her hand. Dorado gestured for her to sit while he continued talking to Taylor on the small phone. “I know it’s getting crowded but keep the canine patrols for a little longer. Before they take the dogs out of the area, run them through the museums once more. Yeah… right, well, keep me informed.” He took the earpiece off and laid it on the desk. “The FBI and Park Police want to shut down the protesters who set up in front of Archives. The Chinese are due there in an hour. It’s created hell with our security stations and patrols. Is that from our guy?”
Sherrie nodded, “He’s punctual.” She handed him the paper and waited as he read it. “Jacobson traced the line this time to a coffee shop near Navy Memorial. The connection broke right after the message ended but I asked the dispatcher to send some officers over.”
“The people worked their entire careers as members of Bio-Lab 4. The military murdered them to hide this secret. They burned and bulldozed our community to the ground. I personally killed these men for being responsible for this massacre: Colonel Ashton Forester and General Jefferson Talbot. Col. Forester was our connection to the military. General Talbot was responsible for the funding to keep the labs going.”
Dorado read the message, a frown on his face.
“More will follow on that. However, the greatest responsibility for these deaths still lies with the government that allowed the labs to be first formed. Biologicals should never be used as weapons. One vial of manufactured microbes will result in the deaths of thousands or even hundreds of thousands. A biological weapon can’t be stopped or contained. The American people must know that they exist. The weapons are real and we were real. James Mitchell, BL-4”
“It’s a confession and at the same time, an insanity defense.” He laid the message down on the desk, sighing.
McAfee walked in as he finished. “I've posted the picture all over the police net systems.”
Dorado nodded and handed over the note. “Another message.” He rubbed his jaw again. It helped relax the clenching. “He’s got to be delusional. You can't kill over four hundred and not have anyone notice. Relatives would search for them. Besides, the government banned chemical and biological warfare long ago.”
“In the 1970s.”
Both men looked at Sherrie in surprise.
“That doesn’t mean the research doesn’t happen now though.”
“Doing some light reading at night?” McAfee cocked his head.
She shot him a withering look. “China, Korea and a few countries on the African continent are all suspected of repeatedly violating the bio and chemical weaponry treaties. The idea of biowarfare dates back before when the European settlers gave pox-contaminated blankets to the Native Americans. During one of the Crusades, one army chopped up and tossed diseased body parts over the walls of a castle in order to scare them into surrender. It has been a factor in every major American war and probably most other wars as well. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that our military created research labs.”
Dorado and McAfee exchanged looks, “Where did you find out about all this?” McAfee asked.
“News feeds, Internet stories, books, New York Times, Time Magazine, Newsweek. You can find the articles easily if you bother to search for them."
Dorado cleared his throat. “He's signed his name. It means he doesn’t care that we know who he is. Sherrie, let’s contact the Army with the message since they’re searching for him. Maybe it’ll shake free some information from them."
Frowning, McAfee waved the note, “Judging from this, he wants to be known. This last line, ‘we were real,’ indicates he definitely wants fame.”
“Let’s not give it to him.” Dorado swiveled in his chair, “What's the report from the Mall?"
“Most people are watching the parade now so Taylor’s doing a sweep with the dogs around the tents and the buildings. Cardell reports that he's seeing a lot of gang colors being flashed about in the Monument area. He requests that we send in ten more men to do walking patrols.”
Dorado snorted. “We’v
e got everyone out there somewhere already.” He paused and shuffled through the four messages. “Tell Cardell to stick to protocol. If something starts to go bad, put out a red alert and all available patrol will answer. Have Charro go over to the monuments and talk to the local color. They’ll open up to him. Maybe he can help Cardell handle anything that’s going down.”
McAfee nodded, failing to suppress his grin, “God knows none of them will talk to that uptight asshole.” He picked up the com-unit and quietly began talking.
Dorado swiveled in his seat towards Sherrie. “Anything on the names?”
“Not yet.” She paused. “That in itself is odd.”
McAfee took off the earpiece to his phone. “Not everyone has websites. I don’t have one.”
Sherrie looked over, brow creased in a frown. “Yeah but you're listed on the web, nonetheless. If I did a search on your name, I'd get hits on our department with your name listed as an employee, any news reports that feature you and possible family relations. Almost all print material except maybe older books has a web component now. Most records have a web component too for easier transfer.” She shrugged. “Yet here…” she paused, lost in thought, “I mean, it's inconceivable really that more than four hundred people live in America and none of them appear on a web search.”
“Most Greenies aren’t listed on the web though, are they?” McAfee replied.
“Yes, they are,” She looked at him, eyes still unfocused. “You couldn't do it on your level of access with a simple search but on our level, with police access, we'd get hits. Remember websites show things such as birth records, marriages, IRS forms, school records, newspaper announcements, and death certificates.”
Independence Day Plague Page 22
