by Doug Raber
Day 33: Preparations
Sarah and Jake were sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Jennings, who had excused himself to make a telephone call. It was 9:30 at night, and they were startled when someone opened the front door. It was Mary Jennings, returning home earlier than expected. She recognized Jake immediately. “It’s good to see you Jake.”
“Mrs. Jennings. This is … this is Sarah Lockford.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. I hope Carter has offered you something to eat and drink. You both look a little ragged. You have had dinner, haven’t you?”
Sarah answered honestly. “No, we’ll get something as soon as we finish up here.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.” Carter Jennings had just returned to the kitchen. “It isn’t safe for you to leave this house tonight. But I trust you’ll find it comfortable downstairs. And secure.”
Jennings pulled a chair back from the kitchen table so his wife could sit down, but he remained standing. “Just before Mary came home, I was on the phone with my deputy. He’s arranging a security detail for the house until this is over. There will be two undercover units on the street, and two agents will stay in the house. They will remain on duty through the night, so they won’t need sleeping accommodations. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Mary, but I have to make sure you’re all safe.”
“It sounds like you aren’t going to be here with us, Carter.”
“Unfortunately, I need to go to the office tonight. I will return for our guests in the morning. There’s an important meeting scheduled for 9:00 a.m., Jake, and I want you and Sarah there with me. Please prepare a brief presentation. You’ll have five minutes at the most, maybe only three. It may be the most important presentation of your life.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Jennings handed Jake a flash drive. “You may want this. We’ll leave here tomorrow morning at 8:30. Promptly.”
“Mr. Jennings, I’m not sure what kind of meeting this will be, but we don’t have any clothes other than what we’re wearing.”
“Clothing will be provided, Jake. For both of you.”
Jennings turned to his wife. “Evan Brady will be here shortly. He’ll be in charge of the team. If anything comes up, he’ll know how to reach me.” Jennings kissed his wife and left by the front door, picking up his coat from a chair as he walked past.
“You’ll have to forgive my husband. He can be a bit abrupt when he’s focused on something about work. And it sounds like this is something important. Why don’t I get you two some dinner? Carter roasted a chicken this afternoon, and we only ate a little of it. I can heat it with some mashed potatoes and green beans. Would that be all right, Jake?”
“That would be really nice. Thank you.”
“Wonderful would be a better word for it,” Sarah added.
A few minutes later, Sarah and Jake were starting to relax. They both jumped at the sound of the doorbell.
“Both of you stay right where you are.” In contrast to her previous, almost motherly, tone, Mary Jennings’ voice was dead serious. It wasn’t a suggestion she’d made but an order. She walked briskly to the front door, and standing slightly to the side, she asked, “Who is it?”
Sarah and Jake couldn’t hear the reply, but Mary turned to them and relayed the information in a voice that had undergone a partial return to the motherly. “It’s all right. It’s Special Agent Brady.” Then she opened the door to admit two men. Both younger looking than Jake, both neatly dressed. “This is Special Agent Brady, and…”
“And Agent Tomlinson, Mrs. Jennings. You don’t need to make any further introductions. Director Jennings gave us some background, but our job here is just to make sure that you and your guests are safe here this evening. We’ve secured a perimeter.” He looked at Jake. “We don’t want anybody else sneaking up from the back of the house.”
“Our bikes are down there in the bushes.”
“We found them, and they’re being brought up to the garage for safekeeping. If you don’t mind, we’ll do a walk-through to make sure everything is secure now, including the alarm system. We’d appreciate it if you’d keep all the drapes and blinds closed. Please don’t open any of the doors or windows or try to look outside. It’s the only way we can be sure of your safety.”
The agents went about their check of the house, and Mrs. Jennings, after indicating that Sarah and Jake should finish their meal, went into the living room and turned on the television. She left them undisturbed, returning only when she heard them clearing the table.
“Please, I’ll take care of cleaning up. From what Carter said before he left, I think you still have some homework to do this evening. Why don’t you go on downstairs and make yourselves comfortable. The den and guest rooms are to the left at the bottom of the stairs. There are fresh towels in the bathroom, and I put a couple of robes in the closet down there. I’ll wake you at 7:30.”
* * *
Day 33: Assembling the Arguments
“Who do you think we’ll meet with tomorrow morning, Jake?”
“I’m not sure, but the FBI has a real hierarchy, so Jennings has to convince his superiors. They may trust him, but he’ll still need us to show them the evidence.”
“The proof has to get to the FBI Director, but Jennings would certainly have to go up the ladder first. And then the Director would have to talk to the Attorney General. He’s the one who represents the Justice Department in the National Security Council. Maybe we’ll get to see some somebody in the Director’s office, if Jennings can convince them we’re worth listening to.”
“He has to get through a lot of people tonight, but this is Washington. And it’s a crisis. People may not be happy about it, but they’ll meet with Jennings, no matter how late it is.”
“You have to get your presentation ready. I turned on the computer.”
A half hour later, Jake was hunched over the laptop, alternately frowning and typing, with an occasional nod of satisfaction.
“Got anything ready to look at yet?”
“The first slide needs to be high impact, Sarah. I really have to get their attention.”
“What are you thinking of?”
“Jack Redhouse. The photograph you took of his body. It’s on the flash drive that Jennings gave me upstairs. It’s not pretty, but it’s real.”
“You’ll get their attention, all right. How will you keep it?”
“The key is to convince them that the Farmington virus traces back to the microscope slides from the 1947 smallpox outbreak. Charles sent us genetic information on the microscope slide that Evelyn Redhouse purchased on eBay, and I’ve compared that with all the data that I brought from Farmington.
“You can’t just give them tables of numbers, Jake.”
“No, of course not. I’ve got some charts, but they need to be polished up. Here, look. This one shows key parts of the sequence for four archival samples. Two are from CDC and the other two are from the Russian lab. It demonstrates that the Russians have remained cooperative, and I think it shows how mutations increase over time. The dates are at the bottom.”
“It’s a real oversimplification, but you can’t do details in three minutes.”
“Right. This next one sets up a timeline for the Farmington virus and the other four samples. It illustrates the phylogenetic relationships* for all five, and it shows that the Farmington virus is actually the first—that it’s much older than the others.”
“I like it, but you’d better be careful. Just show the trend and say that it means that Farmington came first, not last. Don’t go into technical detail. And don’t use terms like ‘phylogenetic relationships,’ or you’ll lose them completely.”
“Good point. I’ll keep it simple. Even if they don’t understand the details, they’ll see that the samples are all different. But this last one should wake them up. It compares the gene sequences for the Farmington virus that killed little Jackson with the data that Charles sent us for the eBay slide. Look at it, S
arah. They’re identical.”
“That’s incredible, Jake. And the comparison is completely legit?”
“Absolutely. I used every piece of information Charles sent us, and I pulled all the comparable data from what we did out in New Mexico. They match in every single place. There’s no question whatsoever, and even a newcomer will be able to see it!”
“This will convince them. No question about it.”
“Too bad we don’t have a picture of the microscope slide. With that old-fashioned handwriting, it really would have been a neat way to wrap it all up.”
“We can still get one, Jake.”
“How? We can’t ask Charles to do anything else.”
“No, I mean we can take the picture ourselves. The other slide is in my backpack, and the laptop has a camera.”
In just a few minutes, the photograph had been incorporated into Jake’s presentation.
“The only thing left is to write exactly what I want to say. Let me do a draft, and then you can make suggestions.”
It was 2:00 a.m., when Jake yawned and rubbed his eyes. “I’m beat. If we don’t get some sleep, I won’t be able to tell them my name tomorrow morning, no less make a clear argument. Let’s turn in now, and I’ll set my alarm for 6:30. I hope Mrs. Jennings makes coffee in the morning.”
“It won’t matter. There’s a coffeemaker and a jar of ground coffee on the table in the corner. And Mrs. Jennings put two new toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet. And toothpaste and a razor. So we’ll both be able to look halfway decent in the morning. Although I have to admit, it makes me a little nervous that we might be talking to the actual Director of the FBI.”
“I know what you mean. But it shouldn’t be that bad. I’ve lectured in front of senior people before. Even the head of CDC once.”
They climbed into the bed in the larger of the two guestrooms and turned out the lights. Sarah put her head on Jakes shoulder and snuggled up to him. “Good night, Jake. I’m proud of what you’re doing.”
She kissed him on the cheek, but he was already asleep.
* * *
Day 34: Fine Tuning
Jake’s alarm began beeping at 6:30. He turned it off, but it took him another 20 seconds to figure out where he was. When it came to him, the adrenaline followed quickly. “Time to get up, Sarah. Today’s the day.”
Jake turned on the coffee maker. “I’m glad you got this thing ready to go last night. I hope the coffee is strong. I really feel like crap.”
The coffee helped. During the 10 minutes it took them to drink their first cup, they sat in bed and stared blankly at each other without speaking. Then they realized they needed to start working. Sarah booted up the laptop, now fully charged, and handed it to Jake. “Try it again. I’m ready to listen.”
When Jake finished his presentation, Sarah had only a single suggestion. “I think that’s it, Jake. It was already really good when we stopped last night. Change that one label on the graph, and I think you’re good to go.”
Jake practiced it twice more, and each time he felt greater confidence in the words he was saying and the way he was saying them. “It took you exactly three and a half minutes, Jake, and that’s inside the window that Jennings gave you. And there’s no way anyone is going to ask you to stop during the last thirty seconds. Not with this presentation.”
Jake had just finished storing a copy of the file on a flash drive, when there was a knock on the door. “Time to get up. I’ll have breakfast ready in 15 minutes. Your clothes are on a hanger just outside the bathroom door.”
When they walked upstairs, Mary Jennings, dressed in jeans and what must have been one of Carter’s old shirts, was putting a platter of bacon and eggs on the table. “That smells wonderful, Mrs. Jennings. Thank you so much for taking care of us this way.”
“You’re welcome, Jake. You have a big day today. And I have a feeling that my husband has his neck on the line, so you make sure your presentation is a good one. Watching you grow up, we always knew you had it in you, even if you did put tire tracks in our yard with your bicycle.”
Jake grimaced and looked over at Sarah, who just smiled at him.
“Is Mr. Jennings here? Have you heard from him?”
“He’s upstairs showering, Jake. He got home a few minutes ago. Didn’t get any sleep at all.”
“That’s not entirely true.” Jennings walked through the door, looking a lot better than might be expected. “I was too tired to drive, so one of our people drove me home. I got in a quick nap. We needed a car anyway, to take us all downtown. I’ll bring you up to date on the drive. We’ll be able to use Rock Creek Parkway, so it should only take us a half hour.
The comment struck Sarah as odd. FBI Headquarters was on the far side of the downtown area. So was the Washington Field Office. Massachusetts Avenue would be the logical route, and Rock Creek seemed to be a detour. But she was too tired to object, and Jennings was in charge. He must have his reasons.
They ate their breakfast in near silence. The only interruptions came when Jennings asked Jake if he were ready, and then if he had rehearsed sufficiently. The first question was answered by a nod of the head and something resembling a grunt, which seemed to Jake to be better than the alternative of trying to talk with a mouthful of scrambled eggs. The second question earned a more respectful, “Yes, I have.”
The third question was whether Jake had save his presentation on the computer. “Yes, sir. And on this flash drive, too.”
When they finished eating, Jennings told Jake and Sarah to finish getting ready. “We leave in 10 minutes exactly.”
Jennings stood and left the kitchen. Mary turned to her guests. “He gets a little brusque when he’s under a lot of pressure. Sarah, I’m glad we had a chance to meet. I hope we’ll see you again, and that next time will be under better circumstances.”
Downstairs, Jake and Sarah made a quick attempt to tidy up the guest room. “Packing up isn’t hard when don’t have anything to pack. The computer is in my backpack, and so is the package with the slides. You’ve got the flash drive?”
Jake patted his pocket. “All set. And I’ve got this piece of paper with my notes. I want to keep reviewing it.”
“You’ll do fine, Jake. And you look pretty good, too.”
“All things considered, I don’t think I look too bad. I just looked in the mirror, and the suit fits pretty well. So does yours. You’d look good to me no matter what, but it’s more than that. You just look really sharp this morning.”
“Thanks, but let’s just say I look okay. And it doesn’t matter. We need to get moving.”
“Yeah. And by the way, I’m scared shitless.”
“So am I, Jake.” She gave his hand a squeeze, and they walked upstairs.
* * *
Chapter 37
Sarah and Jake
Somehow that was twisted into ‘a slam-dunk.’ You go to war with the army you have, but the facts you want.
—Maureen Dowd, New York Times, 2011‡
Day 34: Arrival
Jennings was waiting in the kitchen with his coat on, and Mrs. Jennings was nowhere to be seen. “Let’s go. Special Agent Brady just confirmed that the area is secure.” As the three of them walked to the front door, Brady opened it for them, offering each of the three civilians a sober nod of the head in lieu of a salute as they walked by.
At the curb, Sarah was surprised to see another agent holding open the door of their vehicle. It wasn’t just a car—the word Jennings had used. It was a full-sized limousine. If this thing had flags on the front fenders, we’d look just like the diplomats when their motorcades drive through Washington.
Then she noticed the other two cars idling nearby. Escort cars. Damn! This is some shit.
As they drove down Massachusetts Avenue toward Rock Creek Parkway, Jennings appeared to be lost in his own thoughts. Jake continued studying his notes. And Sarah looked out at the passing scenery almost like a tourist, all the while hoping she wouldn’t throw up. She admire
d the white dome of the Naval Observatory, where the Vice President lived. Then they passed the British Embassy, the start of embassy row.
They turned right onto the entrance to Rock Creek Parkway. Their escort vehicles were been joined by two large black SUVs. Chevy Suburbans. Just like the Secret Service uses. Several times she’d seen the Vice President’s motorcade traveling the same route.
Sarah expected their car to stay on the parkway until they reached Constitution Avenue, a relatively direct route to FBI headquarters. But they turned off even before they reached the Kennedy Center and the Watergate Complex. As they curved around the exit ramp, she looked up at the brick building on her left. It was the Four Seasons Hotel.
We’re getting on Pennsylvania Avenue. That’s weird. We’ll hit all sorts of traffic going across town. She looked over at Jake, who continued to study his notes. He was oblivious to their route.
As they drove down Pennsylvania Avenue past the World Bank complex, Sarah was surprised at how quickly they were moving. It’s almost like the traffic signals were timed for our trip. Then the car turned and came to a stop.
When she recognized where they had stopped, Sarah poked Jake with her elbow. They were at an entrance to the White House!
The driver rolled down his window, and a voice said, “We need to see your badges, please. I’ll need each person to hold his own badge while I inspect it.”
Oh my God. Oh my God. Sarah was confused. This is ridiculous. Why did he have the car stop here? We’ll just have to turn around and leave, anyway. Unless Jake and I are going to wait in the car. We sure don’t have any badges to show them.
Jennings reached into his shirt pocket, and removed his badge. Like most Washington bureaucrats, he was never without it.
Sarah was startled yet again when Jennings reached into the pocket of his suit coat, and retrieved two more badges. He handed them to Sarah and Jake. Sarah went wide-eyed, and Jennings smiled slightly. “You’re not the only one, Sarah. Other people can also generate ID cards. We pulled your digital photo from the Post’s website. This ID isn’t fake, either.”
