Crescent City Chronicles (Books 1-3)

by Judith Lucci

  Alex's tears burned her eyes as the realization in. "What do you mean? What's wrong with my house?"

  Liz hesitated and added, "The perp killed two police officers before he hurt your grandmother. I think that as soon as forensics cleans up over there, you'll be able to go back, but not tonight or tomorrow. For now, I've secured a connecting suite at the Palm for you.”

  "Two NOPD are dead? Oh my God, this is awful, devastating. Jack must be beside himself," Alex added, feeling breathless.

  Liz nodded in agreement. "Yes, for sure, I think everyone is upset. Apparently, the Secret Service agent who had just arrived chased the guy but lost him. It’s pretty bad over there. The perp was a tall bearded fellow dressed in black. They think he’s Muslim, maybe even the same guy that broke in several days ago."

  "Thank goodness for Josh! He'll keep us informed," Alex added, thinking of Elizabeth's handsome NOPD boyfriend. She smiled gratefully, turned to Bridgett, and asked, “Are you still willing to babysit my granddad and Dr. D?"

  "Absolutely," Bridget declared as she gave Alex a swift hug. "I love you and I’ll take care of everything. I'm leaving now," she assured them as she left the office in a blur of vivid color.

  "She's pretty amazing, isn't she?" Liz commented as they watched Bridget depart, her tall, voluptuous figure a mass of blonde curls and bright colors, her high heels clicking on the outer office floor as she gathered her things. They could hear her footsteps as they clicked down the hall to the elevator.

  "Yeah, she is," Alex, admitted absently. "What else is there? Is there other news?"

  "Jack thinks the attack on your grandmother was in retaliation to your grandfather's comments on the news. Apparently, Agent Stoner and FBI Special Agent Bodine are in agreement."

  Alex covered her face with her hands, tears streaming from her eyes. "Oh no! This is going to kill my grandfather. He is going to feel responsible. What am I going to do?”

  Elizabeth patted her arm and said, "You're going to have a good cry, think about how life sucks and then you're calling your grandfather and after that conversation, you'll meet Robert over at Tulane to check on your grandmother." Liz's voice was forceful and her advice pragmatic.

  Chapter 43

  Ali and Habib sat across from each other on the floor in Ali's apartment, avoiding all eye contact or body language that could cause speculation about their newfound friendship. Nazir was sitting quietly in a chair by the window examining a set of plans. Ali doubted he was even looking at the paper.

  “What are you reading?” Ali asked, as he attempted to engage his brother in conversation. Nazir’s body language was shut down and he avoided contact with everyone. He didn’t answer, so Ali moved toward him and shook his shoulder, “Brother, what are you doing?”

  Nazir gave Ali a blank stare but said nothing. His eyes moved toward the kitchen where Omar and Mohammed talked quietly.

  Ali strained, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation but the voices were too soft, the words too unclear for even his young ears to pick up. Suddenly, the door burst open and slammed against the wall. Ali jumped in surprise as the tall dark figure of Syed entered, carrying a long, stainless steel projectile in his hands. Ali had no idea what it was or how they planned to use the projectile.

  Syed deliberately kicked Habib's leg, wagged his finger purposefully in his face, and glared at Ali as he quickly moved toward the kitchen.

  “What’s up, boy genius?” Syed snarled, shoving Ali against the wall as he passed him.

  Ali was scared of Syed and knew he was mean, malicious, and cruel. Ali closed his eyes to cut out the image of the Jihadist rushing toward the kitchen. Within seconds, the conversation began but Ali couldn’t understand a word. He gave a quick look to Habib who was attempting to listen as well. A short time later, Mohammed, Omar, and Syed returned to the living room.

  Mohammed pulled a syringe from his pocket along with a large vial of medicine. "This," Mohammed declared, raising the vial into the light, "This will make sure that no one anywhere close to our path of destruction survives tomorrow. I promise you all, just as I promised Allah, that all will die!" Mohammed looked into the eyes of everyone in the apartment.

  Ali realized the enormity of what the Jihad leader had promised. Oh no, Ali thought as his heart sank deeper into his chest. That just squelched my idea to use a weak strain of the virus as an aerosol. I wonder what they are adding to the mix. As the thoughts of what the terrorists could do to assure death to masses of people ran through Ali's mind, he again found tears creeping into his eyes. These were vile and wicked men, who would never stop killing and maiming innocent people. Ali wanted his graduate student life back and he wanted these horrors to go away.

  Nazir raised his eyes to a soft tapping on the windows. All of a sudden, he sprang from his chair and shouted, "Look, look. Look at the window. It's Vadim."

  Ali's eyes darted to the window, just as Vadim waved a vial of fluid, gave them a deprecating smile, and disappeared. Ali knew Vadim was taunting the Jihadists with the vial of virus that had been stored for decades. He knew it contained the original virus. As he ran to the door, he was knocked roughly aside by Syed as he and Omar pursued the Russian down the street.

  It was not quite dark but somehow, someway, Ali knew they would never catch the nefarious Russian. He was playing cat and mouse with them and Vadim would win. Ali hoped Vadim would ambush the two terrorists and kill them. Then it would be over. That would put an end to his nightmare and life could return to normal. Ali closed his eyes and remembered the life he'd had only three short days ago. He prayed to his God, "Please Allah, let this be over."

  Chapter 44

  Alex was beside herself with anxiety as she watched the traffic move at a snail’s pace up and down Tulane Avenue. The ED waiting room at Tulane University Hospital was unfriendly and foreign. The pearl gray walls of the ED, designed to comfort and ease anxiety, did nothing to mitigate Alex's fear and apprehension at all. She had convinced her grandfather who was paralyzed with guilt and grief, to stay at the Palm Court with Beth. She promised him that as soon as she had a report on her grandmother she would call him. Adam, his personality dulled and temperament unusually docile, had grudgingly agreed. In the meantime, Beth Blankenship's condition had worsened and she had become severely agitated after learning about the attack on Kathryn. Monique had sedated her so she could get some rest. Alex shook her head as she thought about Monique who was barely able to function from her recent head injury. Maybe this will make her well.

  Finally, Alex’s impatience negated her judgment and she walked once again to the clerk working the emergency department desk.

  The clerk watched her approach and waved her back to her seat. "I'm sorry, ma'am. You'll just have to be seated. I have no information for you."

  The uncaring, uninvolved emergency department clerk repeated the same statement to Alex for the third time in an hour as she pulled another stick of gum out of the pack and stuck it between her obviously plumped up bright red lips.

  Alex was beside herself with grief and anger. She ticked off all of the things she could do to get the clerk fired, and realized it would accomplish nothing but make a scene.

  "All right, would you please call back there and see if Dr. Bonnet can come out and speak with me?"

  "Sure, in a few minutes," the clerk quipped eyeing Alex from head to toe. "They're pretty busy back there now and I have strict instructions not to interrupt them, not for anyone, not even you."

  Alex doubted this was true but decided to retreat to her seat. "Thank you," she said softly as she left the ED window and returned to the waiting room. The emergency department at Tulane was quiet. Alex stared at her handbag. The straps of Alex's leather handbag had been twisted in so many different directions in an effort to allay her anxiety it was questionable whether the straps could ever be straightened again.

  For the twenty-fifth time as many minutes, Alex checked the large boldface clock in the emergency room waiting area - it was a littl
e after six p.m. She had been there for less than two hours but it seemed much longer. Unfortunately, Jack, who had kept her company for about a half an hour had to leave after he’d received a text from Stoner asking him to attend a security debriefing downtown. He promised to return when he could but Alex had made him promise to check on Monique first. She was deeply concerned about her good friend who was still recovering from a brain injury. The last thing any of them needed was for Monique to relapse and lose the miraculous gains she had made in her therapy.

  Finally, the emergency department double doors swung open and Robert emerged. Alex ran to him and fell into his arms, tears covering her face.

  "Robert, Robert, please, tell me how my grandmother is," Alex cried out. She knew her voice was hysterical and as much as she tried to control her tears, she could not.

  Robert put his arms around Alex and patted her back as he had done so many times before. "Let's go and grab some coffee and I'll tell you what's going on,” he said his voice grave.

  Alex broke the hug and searched his face. Her former husband's visage was grim, his eyes serious. The lines on his face were deepened and accentuated, as they often were when he was tired or stressed. Alex felt panic seize her heart. She was breathless.

  "Oh no, Robert, please, tell me she’s okay," Alex wailed.

  Robert's look was sad and his voice was wistful. "I don't know if I can."

  A primal moan escaped Alex's lips and her weeping was uncontrolled as Robert led her out of the emergency department to a quiet place in the rear of the cafeteria. He quickly returned with hot tea for her and a strong coffee for himself while Alex remained numb and silent.

  As she reached for her teacup, Alex was awash again, with fresh tears as she was reminded of the hundreds of cups of tea she had shared with her grandmother in the kitchen and by the fireplace at Wyndley. Oh, if she could just go back to those days and leave this troubled city and these troubling times. Get away from these horrible people. She craved the scent of the freshly cut pastures, the smell of fresh manure on the fields, the crisp smell of the evergreen woods where she and Dundee road every day she was home. She yearned for a glass of Virginia wine in the Gazebo overlooking the river. Please, God, let her go home to Virginia once again for tea with me. There are so many things I want to tell her that I never have. There are so many things that I need to know from her. Things about my mother, my father. Things about me. I need her wisdom. Please, let me attend Fork Church once again with my grandparents and pray with them. I need that in my life and it has been sadly remiss. I am not ready for her to leave me. As Alex sent up her prayers, she also prayed for strength so she could know.

  Robert watched the emotions flicker across Alex's face, and felt her pain and panic. He loved Kathryn Rosseau Lee as much as she did and knew that Kathryn, more than anyone else, wanted the two of them to reunite their marriage. He loved Kathryn for that and he loved her because she had raised his beloved Alex. She had taught Alex to embrace her values and become her own person. Alex was a strong woman, just like her grandmother. Robert considered Kathryn Lee one of the kindest, most intelligent women he had ever known. That's why telling Alex the specifics of her grandmother’s current state was going to be so hard for both of them.

  Alex's clear blue eyes looked directly into Robert's grey eyes, her heart pounding, "How is she?"

  The sadness and distress on Robert's face made Alex's heart scream in her chest. Her pain was unbearable and she could hardly breathe. For a moment, Robert seemed unable to speak.

  Oh my God, he's going to tell me my grandmother is dead. Please, please Robert. Don't tell me that. Alex thought her heart would burst. What would she do without her grandmother? This was just not the right time to lose her. There were so many things she still wanted to tell her.

  Finally, Alex ventured a few words, “Is ... is she alive? Please, Robert, tell me she is."

  After a brief instant, Robert nodded. "Yes, she's alive."

  Alex's heart flooded with relief.

  "But her injuries are very serious. She is beyond critical. I don't know if she’ll make it. The man who attacked her left her for dead. I am sure he thought she was," Robert added sadly. "I'm sorry, but I must be honest with you."

  Alex suddenly changed from a distraught granddaughter to an objective clinical nurse. "What are her injuries? What parts of them are critical?" she asked crisply.

  "All of them at her age. She's unconscious. She has a head injury. She has numerous cuts and bruises. Her right shoulder is broken but I'm most concerned about her head injury and her broken ribs. She has at least three broken ribs and another is cracked. I’m worried about her breathing based on that."

  Alex was shaken but contemplative. What kind of bastard animal could beat up an elderly lady?

  "My grandmother will be okay. She will make it. We must be sure she doesn't get pneumonia. That worries me as does the head injury. She is breathing on her own, right?" Alex smiled brightly, her voice filled with false reassurance.

  Robert nodded and added, “She is breathing on her own now, but that could change. We cannot be sure. The injuries that she sustained are grave, placing her in a precarious state.” Robert had held nothing back and felt now that Alex knew the extent of Kathryn's injuries. "I hope she will, but we can't be sure. She is 76 years old.”

  Alex was defiant, "Yes, she is, but have you ever seen a more vibrant, healthier, 76 year old? Grand rides horses almost every day. She hikes miles every week and she goes to the gym three times a week and works out with weights. She also swims and does water aerobics. She has a great set of lungs and if anyone can make it, she can and she will."

  "Your grandmother is in excellent health for someone her age. I do think she’s lost weight and her blood work indicated a severe anemia. We can correct that and I believe that if anyone can survive this it’s Kathryn," Robert agreed hopefully but added, "She's still very ill and very critical."

  "When can I see her? I plan to spend the night. Will you be sure there's an order to that effect?"

  Robert was about to object and then didn't. "Let's talk about that. We can share staying with her. You and I are also running a hospital that is currently harboring an unknown virus and is surrounded by NOPD, National Guard, and FBI agents."

  Alex considered this and added, "Okay, you're about the only person I would trust with her. I need to call Granddad and let him know. Then can we see her?" Alex was considerably more cheerful now that she had the facts and could work with them.

  Robert checked his watch. "She's probably in ICU by now. Sure, let's go," he said as he put his arm around Alex and they left the cafeteria talking quietly as they made their way to the large, modern Tulane intensive care unit.

  Chapter 45

  Mohammed Abdu arose just before dawn, had a brief conversation with Syed in the kitchen, and joined comrade Omar Hassan in the living room of Nazir's apartment. It was mission day and he felt good. A refreshing night's sleep had cleared his head and all concerns about the work for the day. This will be the best and the most lethal activity ever noted in the West. Down with the infidels. Praise Allah. Mohammed Abdu had joy in his heart as he joined his friends for morning prayers. The friends retrieved their prayer rugs from the corner of Nazir's apartment and knelt together in prayer. The leaders prayed for success and victory against the American leaders and infidels in New Orleans. The mission had taken years of planning and Mohammed was certain it would be a success.

  Refreshed after a simple breakfast of fruit and eggs, the two terrorist leaders walked downtown toward the pier of New Orleans where they stopped in a bar close to the Convention Center for coffee.

  Omar surveyed his long-time friend critically and questioned him, "Did you speak with Syed this morning? Are there any details you need for me to handle?"

  Mohammed Abdu shook his head. "Syed left to begin his deliveries. All of the canisters are loaded with the virus and the syringes filled with Novichok. We will be successful, my brother. It wil
l be a victory for Allah."

  Omar smiled broadly and asked, "Do you have any concerns about Syed getting the job done?"

  Once again, Mohammed shook his head. "Not at all. I trust Syed. He is well trained, faithful, and dedicated. I am not so sure about Habib so I would like for you to watch him carefully today. I am not sure of his allegiance to our cause. I think he is faltering on his commitment. If you see anything alarming or suspicious, feel free to neutralize him. He will not be a great loss to us. While he has been radicalized and trained, I am not sure of his fidelity. He is young and we have not invested considerable time in his development or progression in the organization."

  "I will, brother, but I hope it does not come to that. If it does, I will handle it. What of Nazir?"

  Mohammed thought for a moment and said, "He is weak, dedicated, but expendable. I will decide in several hours. Do you believe he can be trained to be a brave holy war warrior?"

  Omar shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. I think you are right, he is weak and he gets rattled much too easily. In some ways, I believe he is prone to hysterics. I don't believe he can be trained. Perhaps he can be useful in the recruitment and radicalizing part of our cause."

  Mohammed was non-committal. "Perhaps. Let us see how well he does with explosives strapped to his torso and a detonator switch in his hand. That will give us some idea of his limits." Mohammed thought for a moment and added, "You know, my brother, I think I may load up Habib with explosives as well. It is not part of the plan, but it will help us get more people inside where they will inhale the virus and poison. We can drop him off near the casino which will most likely be our main killing field."

  Omar nodded in agreement, as they watched a battered, unmarked delivery van slow to a stop in a loading zone close to the Convention Center. They continued to watch carefully as a young man with dark hair and a beard exited the delivery van, loaded six stainless steel canisters on a dolly system, and entered the Convention Center. Twenty minutes later, he emerged and delivered six more canisters into the huge Convention Center. Satisfied, he stopped for a cigarette against the side of the building and then drove off in his van to make additional deliveries.