“I understand. Maybe we can do breakfast tomorrow to celebrate. I’d like to get to know you better.”
She winced and hoped, in the darkened room, that he didn’t notice.
CHAPTER 88
ROLL UP YOUR SLEEVES
At 6:00 PM, we arrived at the security gate at Indian Point, showed ID and proceeded to the main administration building. Little was now texting on his phone. “We’ve picked up some facial recognition of the Leopard in Boston. We’re assembling a team there. A Black Hawk chopper is going to pick me up here in thirty minutes. Let’s get going. You guys can stay, but I only have a half hour.”
We walked into the admin building and, as usual, Little took charge. We approached the lone security guard at the desk. “We need to speak to Greg Tilson, your director.”’
The guard picked up a phone. “I’ll see if he’s here.”
“We know he’s here. Just tell him there are people here from Homeland to see him.” We purposely did not call ahead, but on the way to Peekskill, we got backgrounds and cell phone GPS tracking on key personnel.
Al paced the lobby while we waited. “What if Tilson’s the agent?”
Little thought about that. “I doubt they’d recruit the top guy. Too high-profile and visible. My money’s on a lower level guy with access. The kind of guy who has a big key ring full of keys. The kind of guy nobody pays much attention to.”
Gary, who meekly hovered in the background, stepped up. “Here’s a list of possibles, based on your criteria. I culled them from the NRC’s database.” He handed his tablet to Little.
The door behind the guard buzzed, and a trim fortyish man with a marine haircut stepped out. His gray hair belied his age. His erect posture and muscular build said military and proud of it. “Gentlemen and lady, what can I do for you?”
“Is there somewhere we can speak in private?”
“This way.” Tilson led us through the security door and down a long corridor painted hospital green. It even had the odor of disinfectant trying to mask some persistent mildew. The place definitely looked 1960s, when most of these facilities were built. We walked into a small conference room with metal chairs, concrete floors, and tiled walls. I wasn’t sure whether this felt more like high school or prison. In my case, they could have been the same.
After a few introductions, Little got started. “Director Tilson, I’ll get to the point, as time is an issue. We suspect one of your people may be prepared to sabotage this facility.”
Tilson turned red then grayish white, like a cadaver. “Um, how do you know this?”
“We have very good intelligence that a terrorist cell is coordinating sabotage here and at other facilities in less than twenty-four hours.”
Tilson straightened up and composed himself. “How can I help?”
Little handed him the tablet with the list of names. “Are any of these men currently on site?”
“Of the six on your list, I’d guess maybe four are currently on duty.”
“Can you discreetly call them to the office? It’s imperative we don’t alert the perpetrator we may be onto him.”
Al chimed in. “That’s a mistake, Rich.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve had enough street experience to know that no matter how you summon a suspect, they will probably bolt or worse. They’re nervous and feeling more than a little guilty. Any break in routine may trigger an undesirable response.”
“Makes sense. What would you suggest?” Little said with a note of sarcasm.
“Take off the jacket and tie. Roll up your sleeves. Take Tilson’s pocket protector with all the pens in it. Take me and Gary with you. I’ll take this clipboard. We’ll look like NRC inspectors, which I’d imagine would be a common sight around here. Then let’s ask Director Tilson to lead us to the workstations of these four on the list. As we approach them, I’ll look like I’m taking notes. Gary, with his nerdy glasses, can be pecking away on his tablet. You and Tilson should be talking as if evaluating the place.”
“Nerdy?” Gary said.
“Sounds solid to me,” I said.
“We’ll see about that. OK, let’s go with Al’s plan. Sam, you stay here and monitor the overall situation. Call us on the earbuds if something important happens. Greg, let’s go.”
I felt like a little kid being left behind and left out. But on second thought I was happy not being involved in another confrontation. My nerves were frayed like ropes about to snap. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Yet I couldn’t will away that dark cloud hovering overhead.
CHAPTER 89
MY FAIR LADY
Shortly after we arrived at Indian Point and I was left alone, my cell rang. It was Monica. “I was so worried. How are you? Where are you?”
“We’re on our way to Fresno, just passing Modesto now. Evan’s with me. We’re all fine. Where are you?”
“We’re at one of the sites in New York. I can’t really say anymore. I just wanted to make sure you’re OK.”
“We’re scared. But oh my God, you’re at one of the sites. What if something happens?”
“We’re here to stop that, hopefully. I know you’re worried, but I really had no choice. Millions of lives and our country’s future are at stake.”
“I know. I know, but that’s not going to stop me from worrying. Evan is in the backseat playing video games. He seems blissfully oblivious.”
“As is most of the country. A panic would only make things worse. So we have to keep this to ourselves for now.”
“I understand. When will we know it’s over?”
“If you hear an explosion or get a call from me—one or the other.”
“Your gallows humor is not much appreciated at the moment.”
“Sorry. It’s my way of dealing with stress.” There was a long silence between us and a warm memory popped into my head. “Sing me that song you and your father used to sing, doing dishes after dinner in the kitchen. You know, the one from My Fair Lady.”
“Really, now?”
“Yes. I loved that. I think it may be good for both of us.”
“OK.” She cleared her throat. With her voice breaking, she began. “I have often walked down that street before. But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before…”
Tears came to my eyes. The lyrics of that song took on a new meaning for me this time. It might be the last time I’d hear it.
CHAPTER 90
MS. MARPLE
At 6:20, Little, Al, Gary and Tilson approached a man named Fred Grey at his console in the plant’s control room. “Hi, Fred.” Fred looked up. Al continued to scribble on her clipboard. Little and Gary looked around as if inspecting the place.
Fred Grey was a fortyish white male with dark black hair, graying at the temples. He wore a khaki uniform with a name tag and had a pleasant smile. “Director Tilson, how can I help you?”
“Fred, these people are from the NRC doing a routine inspection. They have a few questions they’d like to ask you.”
Fred nodded.
Little started off slowly. “Are all systems operating normally today?”
The group watched his face and body for any micro-expressions or tells. Any discomfort, rapid blinking, change of expression might give something away. “As far as I can tell, everything seems normal.” No discomfort. No change in body language.
“We’ve had a report that there may be some trouble with your systems. What area do you monitor?”
“I’m responsible for monitoring the core reactors B and C.” Again, no visible reaction. “All systems seem to be operating in the green, safe zone today.”
“What time does your shift end?”
“In about an hour.”
“Do you ever do overtime or have any reason to be here overtime?”
“I wish we did. I could use the money. But apparently, the budget is tight and I haven’t had overtime in the last five of the ten years I’ve been here. Security actually makes sure I leave the
site after my shift. No lingering. I get five minutes to go to my locker and then I have to leave.”
“OK. Thanks very much.” Little moved the team to the hall out of Fred’s earshot. “He’s not the guy. Other than needing money, I don’t see any signs. Besides, he’s out of here in an hour. I believe that’s too soon for him to be involved. Otherwise, we didn’t learn much.”
Al interrupted. “It’s been too long since you’ve been a detective, Rich. We actually learned a lot that might help us narrow the search.”
“OK, what’s that Ms. Marple?”
“I appreciate the comparison despite your sarcasm. We learned that shift times matter. So we need to filter Gary’s list by the names of people who will be on duty in the next two to sixteen hours, since that seems to be the most likely window for an incident to occur. We can also probably assume that our guy is not a longtime employee like Fred. If he was planted here or is just cooperating, it’s likely that he’s been here less than five years. Gary, can you add those two criteria and rerun the search?”
“OK, done. Shifting the time actually removes two from the list of four, including Fred, and adds two who are on later shifts. Then when I apply the under five years employed, it leaves only two names.”
“Well, then those are your next two interviews. I have a chopper to catch. Between you, I believe you can do a good job sniffing things out, despite my sarcasm. I can see my way out Director Tilson. Thank you for working with us.”
“No offense, Director Little, but we have our security protocols too. I’ll have someone from security walk you out. Happy to do all we can with your team here.” Tilson made a call and within two minutes, a guard appeared.
“Good-bye Director.” Little didn’t object to the security precaution. He shook hands with Tilson and walked down the hall with the guard. He raised his hand in a wave without turning around as he walked away.
Al showed Tilson Gary’s tablet. “Director Tilson, are these two men here?”
“Well, one’s a man and the other a woman. Let me check.” He made another call. “They should both be here in about an hour when the shift changes.”
Al was wishing we could speed things up, but she couldn’t see what choice we had besides waiting.
CHAPTER 91
THE DOCTOR
The Leopard had a comfortable room at The Charles Hotel, which was only a short walk from the office. It was a little frayed around the edges but still one of the nicer hotels in the area.
After a short nap, he unpacked his small bag, which included a few simple things to allow him some disguise. He had dyed his hair blond in New York and worn a baseball cap on the train. Now he took the red hair dye into the bathroom, covered his bare shoulders with a towel and began applying it. With his fedora and sunglasses, he hoped to move around unnoticed.
The hotel concierge was no help in providing the kind of entertainment he enjoyed, so he ordered room service and a split of champagne. He only hesitated briefly drinking it, as he did not want to jinx his plan by premature celebration. But he so enjoyed the taste. A small treat was in order. Besides, he was very confident they would succeed and superstition was for infidels anyway.
Having enjoyed his small feast, he decided a walk in the cool evening air would invigorate him. It had already been a long day, but the best was yet to come. He wanted to be alert and ready for it. He knew wandering the streets could lead to trouble, like it did that evening in New York, but he liked the adventure and thrill of new places. Anyway, he thought that the trouble in New York was more of a problem for the thief than it was for him. His adrenaline was already pumping for what was to come. He had to calm himself.
At 6:40, he walked up Brattle Street past City Sports and turned right through a small quad that was part of Harvard’s extended city campus. On the steps of one of the grad school buildings, he noticed a mother cuddling her young daughter. The young blonde-haired girl had scraped her knee and was crying. Without a second thought, he was drawn to them and approached.
“Hello, are you all right?”
The mother answered, “Yes, she’s fine. Just a little scrape.”
“I’m a doctor. I teach at the medical school. Maybe I should have a look.”
“That’s OK. She’ll be fine.”
The girl looked up at the smiling stranger, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “Mommy, he’s a doctor. Please, maybe he can fix it.”
The mother looked reluctant but seemed to appreciate the calming effect the stranger had on her daughter. “Yes Doctor, please have a look,” she said with mock concern. She was inviting the stranger to play along in this game.
“Well then, let me take a look young lady. Are you twenty years old?” he said slipping his hand under the calf behind the scraped knee. Her soft, young skin felt like velvet. He could already feel himself stirring.
The girl giggled. “No, I’m six!”
“Hmm, I see. Well you look much older.” He slid his hand down the back of her leg and lifted it as if to examine the scrape. He could now see the pink of her panties and the stirring grew. He turned her leg from side to side. “I think, young lady, that this will heal just fine.” He then slipped his left hand behind her other leg and lifted both as if to compare the two. They felt delicious, if that was possible. “As I suspected. They are the same length.” He then looked at the mother. “I think you need to take this girl home, wash her wound and apply a bandage. Can you do that?”
“Yes, and thank you, Doctor.”
“My pleasure,” he said. All my pleasure, he thought. He lowered the girl’s legs and gave her a harmless kiss on the forehead. He could smell the sweet scent of lavender soap.
CHAPTER 92
SWAN AND HAMED
Little’s chopper got a national security clearance to land on the lawn at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government by the Charles River in Cambridge. At 7:00, he was met by agents Swan and Hamed. Lea Swan was a young Asian-American woman, maybe five foot eight, with large black-rimmed glasses and a warm smile. Anwar Hamed was the son of Syrian immigrants. His dark hair and dark eyes made him look deadly serious.
“Welcome to Cambridge,” Swan said.
Little shook hands. “What have you got?”
Hamed had to hesitate a minute as the chopper blades picked up speed and drowned out all sound. The chopper rose a couple of hundred feet straight up and then peeled away to the west. Hamed’s ears were still ringing, but he gave the report. “We tracked the suspect to Boston’s South Station. There he appeared to don a disguise and baseball cap. The latest version of our facial recognition software is about fifty times better than the last. All we need is cheekbones and a mouth to make a positive ID. Together with new ground-up surveillance cameras, his cap and dark glasses weren’t enough to fool us. We also have Persistent Surveillance in the sky with a lock on his digital signature. If he moves outside anywhere in this area, we have tracking on him. We could have scooped him up, but you instructed us to watch his movements to ascertain others involved. He had an extended meeting just down the street from here on JFK Street. We have set up surveillance on that location.”
“Where’s LaSalam now?”
“He appears to be staying at The Charles Hotel under the alias, Rupert Patel. We have kept his surveillance looser so as not to tip him off. Right now he is walking through town followed by two of our agents.”
“Any comings or goings at the meeting site down the street?”
“Other than our target, no one has entered or exited the premises.”
“Take me there. I want to have a look for myself.” Swan took the wheel. They drove the few blocks to the surveillance site and parked across the street, a half block away.
CHAPTER 93
PRETTY
Michelle Hadar had given her staff a break. At 7:15, she ordered them not to leave the house and to be back at their desks by 11:00 PM. Most of them went upstairs to get something to eat and to rest. A couple stayed at their terminals
playing video games and checking Facebook. She didn’t mind letting them use their computers for personal use or play. She knew how stressful this kind of work could be. Play offered some relief and often boosted creativity—something she learned at MIT. She had even heard a student in one of her computer sci classes argue that porn sites were on the cutting edge of web technology and hence a good place to study and learn. She wasn’t buying that one.
She was feeling anxious about tonight, about her family and about the Leopard’s intentions toward her. To relieve stress, she had never taken up drinking or drugs like some of her friends. She preferred running. After a few miles on the paths along the Charles River, she would feel fresh, invigorated and yes maybe, a little high. She went up to her room, which was old-house-large and had a bay window overlooking the street. She was happy not to have to share a room like most of her staff did. All her life, she’d had to share a room. She had grown up sharing a room with her sisters and with roommates at school. This room and the solace it provided would probably be the only thing she’d miss after this was all over.
She pulled off her hijab and her clothes. She was naked and allowed herself a look in the mirror. She was pretty. She could feel it and see it. This sight was something that would never be allowed at home or appreciated. She ran her hands slowly down her sides and lightly along each arm, admiring the tattoo on her left wrist. She raised her hands above her head and admired her full breasts. She had a slender waist but wide hips. Better for bearing children, her mother would say. That could have been the furthest thing from her mind right then. She did her warm up stretches in front of the mirror, touching her toes while looking back at herself. Yes she was beautiful. Would she ever find her soul mate? Would things ever get back to normal? she wondered.
She put on her Nikes, sports bra, shorts and a loose sleeveless T-shirt with the MIT logo. Running was one of the few times she did not wear a hijab. She tied her long dark hair into a bun, curled it up and tied it with a rubber band. She took a deep breath and headed downstairs and out the front door.
Not So Dead: A Sam Sunborn Novel Page 20
