by Rick Chesler
TEN
Bethesda, Maryland
Tanner disconnected the call and grinned like a Cheshire cat. Unbelievably, it had worked. He had plied his web of contacts — some of them frighteningly tenuous — but he had managed to get through to a mid-level operator within Hofstad and set up a rendezvous for the antidote. There was no doubt that they truly desired the STX antidote, though, to be willing to jump through such hoops for it, and that in itself concerned Tanner greatly. They were planning something big. The football attack was just the beginning.
Next, Tanner placed calls to Liam and Danielle. He and Danielle would pose as reps from the biotech company and actually meet face-to-face with the Hofstad contacts. Liam would be dropped in the vicinity of the drop ahead of time, ready to forcibly intervene should things head in a wrong direction.
The meeting was set for tonight at 8pm, in four hours time. The next day would see the expiration of the threat window, so Tanner knew that this was likely the only chance they would get at climbing sufficiently high on Hofstad’s hierarchy ladder to be able to make a difference. He knew that they wouldn’t be careless enough to send high ranking members. The possibility of a trap would not escape them. Militia-wise, they’d send lower level sleeper cell jihadists. Men who were trained to kill but who didn’t know too much about how the organization was run, should they be captured and tortured.
But they would need a scientist, or at the very least a highly experienced lab technician. This person, Tanner had a hunch, would be no more than one or perhaps two intermediaries removed from Hofstad’s brass. He could be physically tailed, electronically traced or both in an attempt to find his superiors. But the first thing they would have to do is to convince him that they did, in fact, have a functioning antidote for STX, else there was no reason for him to even contact Hofstad’s inner circle. Tanner had no idea how to accomplish that, but he knew who did.
* * *
Jasmijn looked up from her microscope to see Dante engaged in conversation. He wasn’t talking to Nay, who catted around the room on patrol, and he wasn’t talking to Jasmijn. Nor did he hold an obvious device like a cell-phone or radio in his hand, either, so she assumed he must be listening with his earbud and talking through a tiny mic, perhaps a clip-on. She decided not to get too distracted by it, and got back to her work on the antidote.
It was slow going. Progress was excruciating. The work was a vexing combination of tedious complexity and visual acuity with a microscope that mentally ground her down at an unrelenting pace. But with untold lives at stake, Jasmijn knew that resting was not an option. She sipped from a Diet Coke as she worked. She had almost lost herself in the protocols once again when she heard Dante calling her name.
She looked up from the microscope. He was walking toward her, arm extended, holding a smartphone he must have produced from a pocket since the last time she’d looked at him.
“Tanner wants to talk to you.” He handed her the phone and she put it to her ear.
“How are you? Everything okay? Line is secure, no one listening but me. You can talk freely.”
She recapped their travel and told him everything was fine so far. “I’m working on the antidote right now. Slow going, but it’s going.”
“I wanted to ask you about that. Do you think you can create a fake antidote that might pass inspection by a scientist for at least a few hours, even though it ultimately doesn’t work?”
Jasmijn pursed her lips as she watched the pair of OUTCAST spooks case the room.
“That’s easy. You could take a glass of Kool-Aid and say it’s an antidote. Unless they’re willing to test it on a live subject whose been infected with STX, it’d take several hours at least to confirm the chemical composition. But this is Hofstad we’re talking about, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they used it on an infected lab animal. Or person.”
In Maryland, Tanner frowned. He hadn’t considered this. Still, his goal was only to gain access to whoever it was that was calling the shots for the next attack. In his mind, all he had to do was get close to them and he would take it from there.
“I just want them to agree to a meeting where I’ll be posing as a biotech rep with an STX antidote for sale. Can you email me some information about an antidote that would sound legitimate?”
“Well yes, I–I can do that, but…” Jasmijn stammered as she comprehended Tanner’s meaning. “I thought you wanted the real thing, though? If you try to bluff them with a fake, what happens when — if— I have the real deal? They won’t believe it.”
“They’ll be the ones contacting you for an antidote, remember? In this case, we’re going to them. They won’t connect the two different sources.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“We don’t have much choice, Jasmijn. Another attack is coming tomorrow. If we’re going to stop it, I need to get to them. I don’t see how else to get to them but to lure them to me.”
“I’ll send you some convincing-sounding info along with a simple recipe you can use to make something in the kitchen that looks authentic at first glance.”
“Great. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Tanner!”
“Yeah?”
“Please be careful.”
Jasmijn handed the phone back to Dante, who resumed his patrol with Naomi. Jasmijn shook her head at the audacity of the OUTCAST leader’s plan and set about concocting his bogus antidote.
ELEVEN
Charleston, South Carolina
Tanner Wilson adjusted his tie in front of a mirror in his room at the Hilton near the airport. He disliked wearing a suit, but in this case it was good tradecraft. He was a biotechnology executive with a product to sell. He heard a coded knock at the door (two-one-three), checked the peephole anyway, then opened it.
Danielle Sunderland. She’d booked into the adjoining room as though they were traveling business partners, which in a way they were. Both of them were checked in under assumed names and using a business credit card obtained under the shell name, Helix Biotechnologies, L.L.C. Tanner carried fancy business cards which included a small circuit and flexible screen containing a simple but playable video game. A great gimmick, lots of wow factor, the salesman had said. But also a practical one, in Tanner’s case. Besides the game, the card also concealed a miniature GPS transponder. He was banking on the fact that they wouldn’t scan it for invasive tech while still in his presence.
If they did, he was prepared to fight.
“Do I look happy to see you?” he asked after Danielle had entered and he closed the door.
Her eyes roved up and down the contours of his suit and despite the role play, he found himself blushing a little.. “I don’t see a pistol in your pants, if that’s what you’re asking. In fact, I’d say you look good, Mr. Kohler!”
He checked the mirror on the door to be sure the outline of his Kahr PM9 didn’t show through his suit. Satisfied it was all but undetectable even to scrutinizing glances, he appraised his fellow operator. Danielle looked the part in a pressed pantsuit, hair in a tight bun and carrying a slim leather briefcase.
“You don’t look half bad yourself Ms. Halifax.” And he meant it. Somehow she’d managed to hide the dressed down computer geek that she truly was in the makeup and hairstyle of a corporate saleswoman. He liked it, but hoped he wasn’t too obvious about that fact.
“Ready for our big date?”
“You bet.”
“And our chaperone?”
“Liam is set up in the bar already.” It comforted him a great deal — and Danielle, too, he was sure — to know that ex-SEAL Liam Reilly had their back down there should things get too dicey.
Tanner picked up a larger metal attaché case on the floor, carefully hefting its weight to make sure he had a good grip on it. Per pre-arrangements with Hofstad’s contact made entirely through mobile text messages, all negotiations would take place in the hotel lobby bar. No private rooms or off-premises locales.
He glanced at his watch, now
a Cartier more befitting a business executive than the waterproof G-Shock he normally favored. Twenty minutes until the arranged meeting time. He wanted to be there early but not too early, lest they appear suspicious. He decided fifteen minutes, while ordering a drink and appetizer, would be in accordance with a businessman wishing to be well settled in and prepared for an important meeting.
When they got to the lobby Tanner could see that Hofstad’s man was already there. Green shirt, tan slacks, black hat, as stated in the texts. His was a dark skinned, swarthy complexion. He sat alone, also as stated, at one of the lobby bar’s outer cocktail tables. Tanner knew he wouldn’t really be alone, though. He’d have backup. The lobby was crowded with the evening rush. Perhaps it was the group of three men loudly watching sports three tables away. Or maybe it was the African American woman reading a newspaper on a lobby couch, facing the bar. Could even be the bartender, busy as he was. There was no time to stand here and try to pick them out. One person he knew it wasn’t, though, was the young man wearing a sombrero style beach hat, shorts, T-shirt, and sandy flip flops occupying a cocktail table in the middle of the bar, because that was Liam. A backpack with a pair of swim fins sticking out was slung over his chair, and he buried his nose in the current issue of Surfer Magazine while he nursed a large brew. A pair of white iPod earbuds, actually connected to a two-way radio, completed the ensemble.
Tanner and Danielle made sure not to even look at him as they made their way across the lobby in plain view from the Hofstad contact’s vantage point. Tanner knew to greet the man as Amir. He knew nothing more about him than that, other than what he said he’d be wearing and that he was affiliated in some way with the Hofstad terror organization. He doubted he was very high up, but he would try and find out.
“Small table,” Danielle said just loud enough for Tanner to hear as they approached the edge of the bar. Tanner had noticed it, too. They’d be sitting very close to one another, well subject to personal scrutiny. The Hofstad man made eye contact, first with Tanner and then Danielle as they passed into the bar. Tanner walked up to the high table with four barstools crammed around it, including the one Amir occupied, and nodded at the terror agent. Amir stood and extended a hand.
“Mr. Kohler?”
Tanner pumped his hand enthusiastically. “Yes, and you must be Amir. Pleased to meet you. This is my associate, Ms. Halifax.” Danielle shook Amir’s hand and said a pleasant greeting.
“Please sit,” Amir said, waving a hand at the cocktail table, where a glass of water sat in front of him. “I apologize for the cramped space, but as you can see,” he said, turning around to look at the slammed bar, “it’s a popular place.”
“Not a problem. My briefcase here might take up my drinking real estate, but that’s okay. We’ll celebrate later, right?”
Amir smiled as he watched Tanner lay the case on the table and unsnap its hinges. “I like a man who gets right to the point!”
Tanner shot Amir a serious look over the lid of the open case. “No reason to waste time when we’ve got an antidote that can save people’s lives, right?”
Amir nodded. “Of course not. We are very excited about your proposition. May I see the samples?”
“Certainly.” Tanner swung the case toward him so that he could view the secured racks of test tubes it contained. Within the tubes, a turquoise liquid suggested a antidote.
“Each tube contains how many human doses?” Amir peered intently into the case.
Danielle answered. “Ten.”
“And there are one hundred tubes?”
“That’s right. One thousand doses total.”
“And what is the shelf life of the antidote?” Amir looked at them both expectantly.
“As long as it’s kept out of temperature extremes and away from direct sunlight, they should remain viable indefinitely.”
Amir looked pleased. “And this is a one-time use antidote, not a vaccine. In other words, it does not prevent you from being affected by STX again, correct?”
Danielle nodded. “That’s right. It’s an antidote, not a vaccine.”
“We’re working on a vaccine as well,” Tanner said, playing the part of zealous biotech exec. “But this antidote is a very exciting milestone step.”
“Most definitely.” Amir tore his gaze from the blue vials to look Tanner in the eye. “You have the requested technical data on this antidote?”
Danielle handed him a folder emblazoned with the Helix Biotech logo. “Full specifications for your perusal.”
He took the folder, opened it briefly, then looked up again. “And may I have a small testing sample with which to verify the efficacy of the antidote? Just a simple test. Only a few hours will be required. You will be staying here in the hotel tonight?”
Tanner nodded. He removed a smaller tube, half the size of the others, from the case, and handed it to Amir. “You may use this for testing purposes. I’m sure you will be quite pleased. Are you staying in the hotel as well?”
The question had some risk, as he didn’t want to be seen as pressing for information on Hofstad’s whereabouts, but he thought it was reasonable given that he had just been asked the same thing. He was surprised, however, at how promising the answer seemed.
“Yes, my company put me up in the penthouse. They have a block of dates reserved each year, and happened to have a couple of days left, so…lucky for me!”
Tanner and Danielle expressed suitable “great for you” remarks.
Then Tanner pulled a business card out of his suit jacket pocket and offered it to Amir. He took it, nodding at first as he read the Helix Biotech information on the front, then narrowing his eyes a bit as he flipped the card over and saw the circuitry on back. He looked up at Tanner with a bemused expression that clearly said, what’s this?
Tanner smiled and tried to act just a bit embarrassed. “It’s a video game. Remember Pac Man? You can actually play it right on the card.” To Tanner, the game was also an allegory. One character being chased around a board by four more, always needing to stay one step ahead or else be captured.
“Really? I must try it right now!” Tanner wondered if Amir’s enthusiasm for the game was genuine, or if he was really only checking to see if the circuit was in fact just a game. He pressed a tiny button on the card and Tanner watched his face alight with amusement as the classic arcade game started up with its jingly music.
“Remarkable! The wonders of technology never cease to amaze me!” Amir turned the game off and pocketed the card.
Tanner nodded at the racks of aquamarine test tubes inside the case as he shut the lid. “I quite agree!”
The Hofstad man stood and glanced at his watch.
“I assume that if we agree to the deal later this evening, you would be able to pay in cash at that time?”
“Absolutely.” Amir gave an assertive nod. “I will text you.” Then he turned and disappeared into the sea of people in the bar area.
TWELVE
Charleston, South Carolina
Tanner opened his hotel door and led Danielle into the room. He wasted no time setting the case of “samples” down and then removing a backpack from the hotel safe while Danielle drew the room curtains.
“Let’s see if we get a signal on the transponder.” Tanner removed a piece of electronic equipment about the size of a smartphone from his backpack and set it up on the single table in the room. He powered the unit on and drummed his fingers on the table while it initialized. He could have had Liam tail Amir right from the bar, but opted not to since Amir was sure to have his own spotters who would notice. They’d let the tracking device do the work.
“Signals transmit through walls okay?” Danielle asked.
“Yes, high frequency, limited range. Walls aren’t a problem, distance is. Let’s see what we get.” He squinted at the device’s LCD readout.
“I recognize that devilish smile,” Danielle said. “You’ve got a hit, don’t you?”
“Yep.” He tapped one of the ga
dget’s buttons and watched the display for a few more seconds. “He’s off site. Let’s go, before he gets out of range.”
Tanner grabbed the tracker and headed for the door, Danielle close behind. They ran down the hallway to the elevator. They were on the tenth floor so Tanner hit the call button and waited. After an agonizingly long minute the elevator opened and a gaggle of Midwest tourists poured out into the hallway, not sure if they were on the right floor. Tanner and Danielle politely asked them if they wanted to get back in. They didn’t need to be remembered by anyone for seeming rude or hurried.
They rode the elevator down to the parking garage and found their rental car, a white compact SUV. Tanner handed Danielle the tracker and got behind the wheel.
“Still got him, he’s heading north on East Bay.”
Tanner pulled the SUV out of their space while Danielle monitored the tracker. He saw a Vespa scooter pull out of a spot in his rear view. It was Liam, now wearing a black hoodie in place of the sombrero and T-shirt. He was tempted to tailgate the car ahead of him through the gate arm rather than wait to pay the parking lot attendant, but he knew that such attention would be foolish. Tanner calmly pulled up to the window, paid the attendant the fee with cash, and slowly rolled out of the garage.
“Looks like he just turned west onto Queen.” To anyone observing, it would look as though Danielle was Tanner’s wife, using a smartphone or GPS while he drove. Tanner stepped on the gas.
“Wish we knew what he was driving,” Danielle said, eyeing the tracker. “Still on Queen.”
They made their way through the small city, lights coming on for the evening. Tanner made the left onto Queen just as Danielle announced a course change.
“He made a right onto King.”
Tanner accelerated down Queen until he had to stop for a light.
“He’s slowing down,” Danielle squinted at the tracking gadget.
Tanner hit the gas again until he made the right onto King.
