Noble's Quest

by Sally Fernandez

  “I’ve been waiting for your call. I couldn’t get through to you on your smartphone, and certainly you know how important it is to be in contact at all times,” Max chided with chuckle.

  “Sorry, I forgot to switch over to GlobalNet. What’s up?”

  “I received the results of the autopsy and you were right!” Max sounded anxious on the other end of the line.

  “What was their cause of death?” The apprehension in his voice matched hers.

  “They found traces of pancuronium bromide, or Pavulon, in the hair follicles of all victims, except for the Hazeltons’.”

  Noble listened intently as she continued.

  “As you know, this drug is a powerful muscle relaxant. If injected in large doses, the drug causes rapid and sustained paralysis to the skeletal muscles, including the diaphragm, eventually causing death by asphyxiation.”

  “I know.” Noble sounded as though he was operating on forensic overload. “It’s used as the second ingredient in a cocktail of three drugs used to administer the lethal injection for death row inmates. Apparently, it causes them to look like they are not suffering from the third shot of potassium chloride causing the heart to stop.” He winced, and then took a deep breath. “Were you able to determine the injection sites?”

  “We still have in evidence the clothing the victims were wearing when they were found. From the shirt and blouse of the Emerson couple, the forensic team found a miniscule puncture in the cloth that would have covered the back right shoulder. It appears they had been attacked from the rear,” Max conveyed.

  “What about the bodies?”

  “Unfortunately, their families had entombed the bodies in relatively inexpensive caskets, and not hermetically sealed, so both bodies were terribly dehydrated. However, our crackerjack forensic team was able to rehydrate that part of the body and found the puncture wound from the petechial hemorrhage, the bruising around the site,” Max explained.

  “What about the kayakers?”

  “They were more difficult to determine, but from the clothing and the bruising the forensic team was finally able to locate the injection sites.”

  “Were they all in similar locations on the bodies?”

  “No. But they were all on the upper torso. It appeared as if they had fought back. Hair samples were collected from their clothing and skin tissue from under their fingernails. Maybe we’ll get lucky and be able to trace the evidence to the perpetrators.”

  “There had to be more than one person to take these four guys down,” Noble observed.

  “I agree.”

  “Now, what about the Hazeltons—at least the parents? I shudder to think about the children.” Noble tried to stave off any emotion. After a timely pause, he could only hear heavy breathing from Max’s end of the line. “Max, are you there?”

  “Noble, this is a tough one.” She hesitated. “The Hazelton family died from ethyl amino sulfonyl phosphinate. It possesses some of the symptoms similar to Pavulon, but the drug the Hazeltons died from is dramatically different.”

  “What the hell is going on? Are you trying to tell me that this family of five died of a V-X nerve agent?”

  “Yes. As crazy as it seems, that’s our conclusion.”

  “Where the hell would they get V-X?” Noble was agog. “Just tell me what you know.”

  “To answer your last question first, in January of 2011, Dugway had a mysterious lockdown. The Army confirmed the next day that a vial of V-X nerve agent was missing, but insisted that it had been located after rechecking their inventory.”

  “How much are we talking about?”

  “They reported the vial contained less than one milliliter or less than a quarter-teaspoon of V-X. We know that Dugway uses the chemical for testing, and has for decades. While most of what goes on at Dugway is top-secret, you may recall that, in 1986, during one of the testing phases, a jet aircraft sprayed the V-X nerve agent on a designated target area, which resulted in killing over three thousand sheep in the Skull Valley, approximately twenty-seven miles away.”

  “Max, back to my first question. How the hell did they get their hands on V-X?”

  “I’m trying to tell you. After the Emersons were found dead, followed by the Hazeltons two months later, the feds were smart enough to confiscate the clothing and contents of the car, even though it was considered an accidental death.”

  “I’d like to meet the genius who made that decision,” Noble commented.

  Max ignored his remark and continued, slowly and methodically. She knew she was about to disgorge a flurry of conjecture, but Noble had to hear it all. “There were traces of the V-X agent on the right hand of the mother. V-X was also detected on the left pant leg of the male child and on a towel that had been left on the floor in the back seat of their car.”

  “What’s the conclusion, Max?” Noble snapped.

  Max knew Noble’s frustration was not directed toward her personally. She chose to continue calmly. “The children must have been playing in the area near the Silver City ruins and discovered the vial. The boy either opened it, or dropped it, causing the oily liquid to spill on his pants. Presumably, the mother grabbed a towel from the car to clean off the pant leg and left the towel on the car floor, during which time she must have also come into contact with the substance.”

  Max wasn’t finished with her findings, but she paused to give Noble a chance to respond.

  “How could that much, assuming it was one vial, kill a family of five? It had to have happened within a short time because their car was sighted only a few miles down the road from the ruin.” Noble concluded, “If any of them had suffered the initial symptoms of mild exposure, surely they would have headed back to town for assistance.”

  “You’re right, but it only takes about thirty minutes for the V-X vapors to be released from a person’s clothing. In this case, a pant leg and a towel were sufficient for them to feel the effects. It was also the month of June, and the temperatures where in the high eighties. Again, presumably, they had the air conditioning on and the windows closed. The vapors would have circulated more rapidly in a confined area.”

  Noble deciphered where Max was heading and insisted on summarizing. “So, the children, based on their size and weight, would have been affected first. If the air conditioning exacerbated the situation, the effects of a small dose would intensify. The children, within minutes, would have sustained paralysis of their diaphragm muscle causing death by asphyxiation. The parents most probably lost consciousness, causing the father to drive off the road, which caused the bruises to the parents’ heads before they stopped breathing.”

  “The medical coroner concurs,” Max confirmed.

  “Aside from the coroner, who else knows about the findings?”

  “Only you, me, several agents, the coroner, and the forensic pathologist.”

  “Great!” Noble grunted. “I want the records sealed. No one else is to know about this—no one.” His order was clear.

  “I understand, boss.” Max recognized the full implications should the information leak to the public and, worse yet, to other government officials.

  “Do we run a risk of an outbreak from any contamination?” Noble inquired substantially calmer, with a note of lingering concern.

  “Between the times the bodies were discovered and now, nothing unusual has been reported. Someone may have suffered mild symptoms such as nausea, watery eyes, and a runny nose. Most likely, they assumed it was the flu. The agents also looked through the ruins for any unexplained vials, canisters, etcetera, to no avail.”

  “Why were they at the Silver City ruins anyway? I thought the waiter at some restaurant said they asked for directions to Salt Lake City. I know we presumed they made a wrong turn, but from our calculations the ruins are quite some distance?”

  “Good point, which is why I ordered Agent Darrow to re-interview the waiter at the Summit Restaurant in Eureka. He discovered that the family had also inquired whether the ruins were a place for
the children to visit before heading to their final destination.”

  “Shit, why didn’t we know this before.”

  “Noble!” Max blurted out, shocked at his use of a crude expression.

  “This case is getting to me,” he confessed as he raised his eyes upward. “So the Hazelton family was not another case of homicide, only a horrible accident?”

  “It looks that way. But let’s not set aside the fact that it took place at another abandoned mine, and it may be somehow linked to Dugway.”

  “Trust me, I’m not.” Noble hoped Max couldn’t detect the desperation he was feeling.

  “You okay, Noble?”

  “Yes!” he half-whispered.

  There was silence on both ends of the line. Max knew Noble was processing the results of the autopsies and planning the next step.

  She waited.

  “What’s happening with the air search for the trekkers and cyclists?” Noble prodded, nudging Max out of the calm.

  “Excuse me, what was the question?”

  “The air search!” Noble repeated impatiently, as he was beginning to tire. And each time his stomach growled, he was reminded that room service hadn’t yet arrived, adding to his irritation.

  “Tonight is the last night. We agreed that by now the trekkers would have used up their provisions. The cyclists, who may have been staying at various inns along the way, also haven’t surfaced. So, after tonight, they’ll all be listed as unsolved missing persons cases.” Max accepted reluctantly and with dismay.

  “Let’s hope they didn’t meet the same fate as any of the victims and end up being reclassified as unsolved murders.” Noble continued testily, “Let me know tomorrow if they find anything.” Then, in a surprisingly subdued voice he asked, “Is everything else okay on your end?”

  “Everything’s fine. Go get some sleep; you sound exhausted.” Max felt the same tension, but appreciated that Noble’s was even greater, having to deal with both crises in the U.S. and in Europe. “I’ll call you tomorrow as soon as I hear anything.”

  “Good night, Max.” Just then, the doorbell rang.

  “Finally,” was the last word Max heard before the phone went dead.

  Noble knew the next day would be long and tedious as he tried to explain the capabilities of SAVIOR to Enzo—his system, his baby. He’d now have to share it with others. But, it was no time to fret. He needed to eat his overdue dinner, and then prepare for a good night’s sleep.

  10

  A PRIMER ON SAVIOR

  I’ve been waiting for this moment.” Enzo displayed a huge smile. Noble also smiled in response. “It is best if you use the virtual keyboard to get started,” he suggested.

  Enzo flipped the switch on the top of the conference room table. Instantly, a black keyboard image with white numbers and letters projected on the surface of the table.

  “Type in, z-z-z dot u-s-a-s-a-v-i-o-r dot g-o-v.” Noble instructed.

  Enzo proceeded to type, zzz.usasavior.gov, then hit the Enter key. Promptly, an official looking screen appeared on the multi-touch monitor, which was mounted on the right side of the wall closest to where Enzo sat.

  In the center of the screen was a prompt for a security ID requesting a thumbprint.

  Enzo looked up. “Now what?”

  Noble, this time sporting a huge grin, replied, “I took the liberty of transferring your thumbprint from your record in the Interpol database and transferred it to SAVIOR. I trust that meets with your approval.”

  Enzo gave Noble a reproachful stare as he placed his thumbprint in the square box image projected on the table to the right of the keyboard.

  Immediately, the massive screen displayed a series of boxes that looked more like a video game.

  As Enzo studied the boxes diligently, Noble began giving instructions on how to use SAVIOR.

  “The top four squares represent a window into each of the databases of the four agencies from which SAVIOR aggregates the information into a pool.” Noble pointed to each of them, moving his index finger from left to right. “This contains access to the FBI database, next the CIA, followed by the IRS, and then, of course, your database, Interpol.” Sounding thoroughly professorial, Noble continued. “The center box on the second row is referred to as the Hot Spot, the box to the left is the Pending File, and the one to the right is the Interrogation File.”

  “I trust this will start to make sense?” Enzo interrupted quizzically.

  “Hang in there.” Noble continued to elaborate. “The center box on the bottom row is where the data for a suspect, a possible suspect, a connection to a suspect, or a profile of a crime will be entered by SAVIOR, based on the answers to relevant questions. That accounts for the remaining two boxes on either side. The left-hand box contains the questions, the right-hand box or square contains the answers to those questions. Are you following me thus far?”

  “So far. Now, do I get to play the game?” Enzo requested eagerly. He had learned about the capabilities of SAVIOR and had been champing at the bit ever since he discovered the U.S. government was giving Interpol access.

  Noble gave him a nod.

  “SAVIOR is designed to pose a series of control questions. Depending on your answer to one question, SAVIOR may generate a succession of other related but more penetrating questions. Various questions may solicit the same information, but from different perspectives, leaving no stone unturned. A single answer may trigger activity in various databases, providing multi-dimensional responses.”

  “What is the purpose of that form of questioning?”

  “The design of questions is similar to a polygraph test, except the questions are directed to the investigator. They are not designed to identify deception, but for identifying correlations. Frequently, an investigator will unknowingly look for clues to fit his or her preconceived notions or subjectively target a specific suspect. SAVIOR’s form of questioning reduces the human factor. It’s a foolproof system, which clinically and logically will lead the agent inputting the data to a conclusion.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  “There have been several instances when the FBI and CIA worked on the same case, but the agents used competing methodologies and inadvertently ended up working at cross-purposes. SAVIOR eliminates the guess work,” Noble beamed with pride.

  “I understand. So the answers will provide the system with potential clues to pursue.” Noting Noble’s acceptance, Enzo asked with unabashed enthusiasm, “Now do we get to play the game?”

  Noble thoroughly enjoyed the catbird seat. “Yes, but only a practice run.” He explained that it would take hours, possibly days, to answer all of the questions—especially those relating to the evidence on the New Year’s Eve bombing uncovered thus far. He described, however, the method of questioning and explained how SAVIOR would start out with simple closed questions, soliciting one-word answers, leading to other questions that would be more complex. “Try to keep those answers as concise as possible. Each question will ratchet up the level of detail, similar to the questioning you use when interrogating a suspect, but much more comprehensive.” He offered to demonstrate. “Let’s work a case, with which we’re already familiar, as our example.”

  Noble turned on the switch on his side of the table and an identical keyboard appeared. He pressed the Ctrl and Q keys simultaneously.

  The following question displayed in the lower left-hand box.

  Are you looking for a:

  (A) Suspect

  (B) Possible Suspect

  (C) Connections to a Suspect

  (D) Case Profile

  Noble hit the C key, followed by the Enter key.

  Enter Name of Suspect appeared in the question box, replacing the previous question.

  As Noble tapped on the keyboard, Enzo watched the name Anwar al-Awlaki appear in the lower right-hand Answer box.

  Noble looked up at Enzo and noticed his smile.

  “I know where this is leading,” Enzo chuckled.

  In
the bottom center box, the photo of the Yemen-based cleric and American-born citizen, Adam Yahiye Gadahn, known worldwide as Anwar al-Awlaki, appeared. This self-appointed al-Qaeda spokesperson was a global terrorist who recruited other Americans to join his cause. In September of 2011, he was killed in Yemen in a drone attack orchestrated by the U.S. Two weeks later his sixteen year-old son, also of American descent, was killed in another drone strike.

  “Wasn’t Anwar al-Awlaki quickly replaced by Abu Yazeed al-Bastamy, another terrorist of American origin?”

  “Yes, but let’s stick with al-Awlaki. This trial run will be to determine whether he had any connections with the terrorist attacks on the U.S.” Noble continued to respond to a series of other questions appearing in the lower left-hand Question box.

  Enzo relented and sat back, patiently waiting for the results. A few minutes later, he observed the question in the left-hand box as Noble typed in a series of dates. Enzo continued to watch as they were unveiled, one-by-one, in the right-hand Answer box.

  11-05-2009, 12-25-2009, 04-30-2010

  “Notice, in all the boxes on the top row, the files for potential suspects have been stacking up as I enter the answers to the various questions. Now watch.” Noble stood up and walked to the monitor on the right. He tapped the Hot Spot in the center. The suspects’ profiles from the top boxes began to cascade downward into the center box as if a dealer were dealing from a deck of cards, except at warp speed.

  As these actions took place, Noble explained, “SAVIOR is now cross-referencing all likely suspects in the databases, identifying those who meet at least ninety-five percent of the criteria, including any connection to the prime suspect in the bottom center square. The profile of anyone meeting the criteria is placed in the Hot Spot as it’s being consolidated. If a person were to have multiple files—for example, a file in the FBI and CIA databases—the information is combined into one file.”