Banks looked over Flynn’s shoulder.
Osborne encouraged her, pointing at the file. “You, too, Special Agent Banks. Don’t be shy. This is a team effort at this point—this small team of three.”
She shook her head. “None of these men look familiar.”
“I’ll keep digging,” Osborne said. “But be on the lookout—and find some other place to stay. Someone is after you—and apparently, they’re after Dr. Watson, not to mention Thatcher.”
Osborne’s phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket. “Oh, my god.”
“What is it?” Flynn asked.
“It’s Senator Thor—he’s dead.”
CHAPTER 39
WATSON WATCHED AS THATCHER struggled to shake loose the man who called himself a nurse. To her, it was clear that his mission was more about ending her life than saving it. She waited for several moments, but no one rushed into the room—not even the guard supposedly standing watch outside her door.
A bedside tray clanged onto the ground as the two men wrestled near her. Thatcher fought to gain an advantage, but he couldn’t shake loose the man’s grip.
However, once Thatcher managed to turn the man’s back to Watson, she picked up her IV stand and started hitting him with it. At first, she couldn’t muster much more than annoying jabs. Then after a few moments, she landed a blow to the head that knocked him off balance, giving Thatcher enough time to gain a more favorable position.
Thatcher wormed his way behind the man and jammed his knee into his back, this time without flinching. He then put the man in a sleeper hold and waited.
The nurse struggled for only a few seconds before his body went limp.
Thatcher scrambled over to Watson and started ripping the monitoring wires and devices off her body. He handed her a pile of clothes. “Here—put these on.”
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Getting you out of here. Whoever is after you isn’t going to stop until you’re dead. And I’m not going to let that happen.”
Watson hustled into her clothes and slipped her shoes on.
“Ready?” Thatcher asked.
She nodded.
He opened the door and found the FBI agent standing with his back to him. A doctor and two nurses were trying to get into the room, but he refused to let them in.
Thatcher gave the agent a shove and dashed down the hallway, Watson in tow.
They raced down the stairwell and outside where they found a cab parked along the curb. They both climbed inside.
“George Washington University,” Thatcher said. “And step on it.”
Watson looked out the back window and saw several people spilling out into the parking lot, searching for her. As long as the first nurse was telling her the truth, she had nothing to worry about—though her list of people she could trust was shrinking by the moment.
“What are we going to do at GW?” she asked Thatcher in a whisper.
“We’re going to find out what’s in this vial,” he said, tapping his pocket.
Her eyes widened. “You brought it with you? Are you crazy?”
“I’ve been called worse—but I’m determined. I must know what’s going on with this stuff.”
She sat up straight and stared at him. “I’ll tell you what’s going on—whatever is in that vial is gonna cost us our lives. You can’t be toting it around like that.”
He tilted his head to one side. “So, you would’ve preferred for me to leave it in your lab?”
She shook her head. “This stuff is dangerous.”
“So are the people who are trying to control your antidote. We need to know what we’re dealing with—and I need to know why the United States military turned on me.”
The taxi driver’s identification card dangled from the rearview mirror. Based on his name, it was clear to Watson that he wasn’t born in the United States, nor was English his first language.
“Are you out of your mind? This could kill us all.”
The driver whistled and pointed to the right. “Is this it?” he stammered.
Thatcher nodded. “Thank you.” He threw the man a twenty-dollar bill and climbed out of the car. He offered his hand to Watson. She declined.
“You’re going to get us killed, I hope you know that,” she said, stomping onto the sidewalk.
“We’re both living on borrowed time,” he said. “Let’s just make it count, okay?”
She glared at him and stopped. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We can just walk away.”
Thatcher shook his head. “You think they’ll just let you walk away—after all you’ve seen? I know you’re not that delusional.”
“I was only trying to help,” she said. “I was only trying to follow orders.”
“Sometimes the people who give us orders only do so because they don’t have the guts to do the dirty work themselves. Real leaders get in the trenches and show us how it’s done.”
They didn’t talk as they walked toward the heart of campus, remaining silent for several minutes.
“Do you know where a lab is?” Thatcher asked.
“I thought you did,” she shot back. “I know nothing about GW’s facilities.”
“But you know something, right?”
She shook her head. “Fine. I’ll ask someone.” She stopped a student and asked for direction to the university’s research lab. Less than a minute later, they changed course and headed toward the intended destination.
“What if it’s not what you think is in here?” Thatcher asked as he swirled the liquid around.
“Would you put that away?” she said. Her stern rebuke made him jam the vial into his pocket.
“I’m just curious. You don’t have to bite my head off.”
“I most certainly do,” she said. “If that thing were to slip out of your hand and break, we’d have an epidemic on our hands—an epidemic that can only be stopped by the antidote I create, the antidote that hasn’t been mass produced yet.”
“I’m tired of fighting—just figure out what’s in here.”
After a few more minutes of navigating their way to the bioscience building, Watson wandered into a lab with a half-dozen students busy on their experiments.
“Hello?” she said.
Nobody moved.
“Hello? Can anyone help me?”
One of the students backed away from his microscope and looked up. He stumbled over his stool, knocking it over as he rushed over to meet her.
He offered his hand. “Noah Plimpton. I’m in charge of the lab here.”
She shook his hand. “Dr. Melissa Watson.”
“How can we help you, Dr. Watson?”
She glanced around the lab. “My assistant and I need to borrow some equipment—and I need to do it in a contained area.”
Noah looked at Thatcher, who forced a smile. Noah returned his focus to Watson. “What’s this pertaining to exactly?”
“I wish I could tell you more, Noah, but the fact is we’re in a bit of a hurry and it’s somewhat proprietary.”
Noah cocked his head to one side. “Where did you say you worked again?”
“I didn’t say, but I work at The Goldstein Group.”
Noah’s eyes widened. “The Goldstein Group? And you’re here wanting to use our equipment? If I had a fraction of their funding and equipment—”
“Look, if you help me out, I’ll put in a word for you—that is if you’re interested in working there. I hear there may even be an opening soon. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds excellent.”
“So you’ll help?”
“Absolutely. Just tell me what you need.”
“Great. Let’s start with hazmat suits?”
“Hazmat suits? Whoa. What kind of project is this?”
“The less you ask, the better.”
“But I need to know if you’re going to contaminate my lab.”
“Trust me. I’d never contaminate your lab. Just give us a contained space.”
Noah sighed and then winked at her. “Okay—I’ve got just the spot for you.”
Watson gave him a list of the things she needed. They waited patiently while Noah directed a few of the grad students to fetch the supplies.
“You sure you’ll be able to figure this out?” Thatcher whispered to Watson.
She nodded. “I’d bet my life on it.”
“Good—because I am betting my life on it. If this turns out to be a fake, I’m going to be forever cast as a pariah.”
She glanced at him. “It could be worse.”
“Nope. This would be the pinnacle—or rather, the worst possible position I’ve ever been in—in my life.”
She waved him off. “Okay, okay. Knock it off. I get it. You’re unhappy. Let’s see if we can change that.”
Once Noah finished setting them up, Watson thanked him. She and Thatcher then donned hazmat suits.
“You ready?” she asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
She put a drop of the liquid on a slide and placed it beneath a microscope. After a few minutes, she looked up. “Yep, this is it. Exactly the same.”
“So, what do you suggest we do about it?” Thatcher asked.
“I say we stick to the plan, make them think we don’t know anything.”
“And then what?”
“We’ll know when the time is right,” she said.
“There’s no good time to break bad news,” he said. “There’s no good time to let anyone run over you either.”
“Good point,” Thatcher said. “Let’s get someplace safe and regroup.”
“I agree,” she said. “If this virus gets airborne before the antidote has been created—much less a vaccine—we’re talking about a potential catastrophic loss of life.”
CHAPTER 40
FLYNN RECLINED IN HIS SEAT while Banks kicked up gravel on her way out of the meeting site with Osborne. He closed his eyes and remained completely still, interlocking his fingers and resting them on his stomach.
“Hey,” Banks said hitting him in the arm. “Wake up! This is no time for a nap.”
“I’m thinking,” Flynn said.
“Well, I need you to think with me instead of becoming one with the passenger seat over there.”
Flynn smiled. “Just when this seat was starting to divulge all your secrets.” He shook his head and sat upright. “Okay, fine. Let’s just focus on what we know.”
“It’s quite simple really—someone tried to kill us, someone tried to kill Dr. Watson twice, Sergeant Thatcher claims the military tried to kill him, and someone just killed Senator Thor, the hawk senator.”
“And the Russians tried to steal Plutonium-238 and the Russian President is speaking to the U.S. Senate tomorrow.”
She brushed her hair back with her hand. “What are we missing here?”
“A common denominator and motive.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious—but I was looking for something a little more specific.”
“Me, too—but I can’t figure out the connection yet, if there even is one. We could just be dealing with multiple random events.”
She sighed. “Where are we headed anyway?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Flynn said. “At least this time, you won’t have to make any last-second exits.”
He proceeded to give her directions to a studio apartment he kept in D.C.
“Does anybody know about this place?” she asked.
Flynn shook his head. “Not a soul. I bought it with cash under an alias.”
“A government alias?”
He furrowed his brow. “Really? You think I’d keep anything the government gave me after what they did to me? Please.”
“Just checking. You can never be too sure.”
Banks tuned the radio to a news program that discussed the current events of the day. More violence in the Middle East, a celebrity said something offensive that turned into an Internet mob, depressing economic news that made pundits argue over whether it was good news or bad, and a report about an cat video that went viral on the web.
“I swear you could’ve played this news report every day for the past three years and I couldn’t have told you what year it was,” Banks said, shaking her head.
“The only thing that would’ve made it better was if there was a report about something stupid one of the Kardashians did.”
Banks smirked. “That wouldn’t be news.”
A few minutes later, they arrived at Flynn’s apartment. He took a quick look around and determined it was safe.
“Looking for the boogie man?” Banks asked. “Didn’t you say nobody knew about this place?”
“You can never be too sure, right?”
They sat down in the living area when Banks’ phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number. It rang again while she stared at the phone.
“Are you gonna answer that?” Flynn said.
She bit her lip. “I’m not sure who it is.”
“Just answer it—or put it away.”
She tapped on the green button to answer. “Banks.”
“Hi, Special Agent Banks, this is Sergeant Thatcher. I wanted to let you know that Dr. Watson finally had a chance to analyze the liquid in the vial.”
Banks pushed a button on her phone. “I’m putting you on speaker so Flynn can hear you. Go ahead.”
“So, Dr. Watson says the vial I have contains the virus that she was developing a vaccine for. I already figured this, but she said based on her experiments this virus is deadly.”
Flynn piped up. “But she created a vaccine for it, right?”
“No, she created an antidote instead, but she doesn’t know what’s being done with it. She gave it to her boss—and now it looks like someone wants her dead.”
“Can you get the formula from her?” Banks asked.
“I’m going to have her email it to your phone right now. And then you can get it in the hands of the appropriate people.”
“No, don’t email it. Just have her write it down and hide it in the George Washington lab. We can’t let that information fall into the hands of the wrong people—and I’ve got no idea who is monitoring my emails.”
“She’s already working on it,” Thatcher said.
“What else do we know about this virus?”
“She said that once it gets airborne, it can wipe out hundreds of people in a matter of minutes. And once you catch it, you don’t have long. In her limited test group, no monkey lived past twenty-four hours. But it’s not a large enough sample to determine anything, she said.”
“Okay, great. Now, find a safe place and I’ll get in touch with you soon enough.”
Banks hung up the phone and slumped on the couch.
“This is getting more interesting by the minute,” Flynn said.
“I wish this was simpler, not interesting.”
Flynn’s phone rang. “It’s Osborne.”
“Flynn.”
“Have you found out anything new?”
“Hang on. I’m putting you on speaker so Special Agent Banks can hear.”
“Okay.”
“So, to answer your question, yes. We have found out something new. The vial that Sergeant Thatcher brought back from Afghanistan matched what Dr. Watson was working on. She created an antidote for it, but who knows what The Goldstein Group intends to do with it.”
“I hope they’re already producing it.”
“No way. Not this fast,” Flynn said.
“If it’s longer than twenty-four hours, it’s far too long.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We just got some chatter about an attack tomorrow on Capitol Hill. Our best intel indicates it’s going to happen during President Petrov’s speech.”
“Can you stop it?”
Osborne sighed. “If we do, it’ll look political. The White House administration has already expressed how much they dislike Petrov doing this.”
“But if this threat is real and he
dies, it’s going to start a war.”
Flynn smiled. “Not that Americans would care about either Petrov or a bunch of senators exiting this world a little early.”
“Enough with the wise cracks.”
“Do you think the administration fabricated a rumor about the attack to keep Petrov from speaking?”
“It’s possible, but they were the ones who told us that this situation is a lose-lose for them—and they want us to ensure that the least amount of damage is done.”
“Which is obviously keeping everyone alive.”
“Exactly.”
“Let me talk to Dr. Watson about how these terrorists might go about making the virus airborne and get back with you.”
“Excellent. But make it quick. We don’t have much time to secure the senate chamber.”
Flynn hung up and looked at Banks. He watched her eyes widen as the sound of someone clapping slowly echoed off the brick walls.
“Well done, you two.”
They turned around to see a man with his gun trained on them.
“Well done. Too bad you won’t be able to do a thing about it.”
CHAPTER 41
THATCHER WANTED TO GET his story out there, one that could exonerate him and help him eliminate the motive for some secret government assassin trying to keep him silent permanently. He considered putting his story out on social media, but he didn’t even believe half of what he read on there anymore. People created sites to fact check others—and now there were fact checking sites for the fact checking sites. He needed a trustworthy source, a source people would believe before dismissing him as a crazed soldier or deserter who wanted to turn himself into a hero.
“Banks and Flynn told you to get someplace safe?” Watson asked as they got into her car.
“The television station,” he said.
“What? Excuse me?”
“Let’s go to the television station.”
“You think that’s safe?” she asked as she turned the ignition.
“I can’t think of any place these people can’t get us, but if we don’t get this story out there, who knows what will become of us. I don’t know about you, but I can’t live my life like this, always looking over my shoulder every ten seconds to see if someone is going to put a bullet in my head. I chose that life overseas as a member of our military so I wouldn’t have to live that way when I was home.”
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