by Fiona Quinn
Gage scribbled some more words onto his pad. “And this applies to your blood biomarkers how?”
“Let’s say that a tech picked up some blood on the scene, and the police have someone in hand they think is associated with that blood, the officer could ask for a blood sample. It would be a quick finger stick and a couple of drops of blood. The tech could then compare the suspect’s sample to the blood on scene and decide right there and then that no, there is no possibility that this is that person’s blood. Or yes, there is a possibility that this is the person’s blood, which would signal a need to order a DNA test. This presumptive test would help a lot of innocent people walk away without having the time and expense of proving their innocence. It would also save time, money and effort for law enforcement, the American court system, and even the U.S. prison system. Even though this only accounts for a small subsection of crimes where blood was left on scene by the perpetrator.”
“There has to be blood on the scene?” Titus asked.
“For my test? Yes. It can’t be a DNA sample from skin or hair follicles, or secretions like semen. My test only works on biomarkers found in human blood.”
“I can see that having an amazing effect on law enforcement and their ability to manage their resources better.” Titus said. “I notice that you keep saying America and the US in reference to law enforcement uses for your test. Why is that?”
Zoe looked at the ceiling. She was still grappling with what to tell them. Zoe could hear the wall clock tic-tic-ticking, otherwise there was absolute silence. The more she explained, the more her nerves tingled. Hadn’t she signed contracts that stipulated that to share any of this information outside of the very tight circle of people who signed the contract along with her would be an act of treason? Would she go to jail because she was trying to save her own life?
Chapter Fifteen
Zoe
Today butterflies, tomorrow wasps
~ Namibian Proverb
After a long minute sitting in silence, Titus pushed the conversation forward. “Were you able to make it functional?” He had leaned back in his chair, swiveling this way and that to follow Zoe as she paced. It made her feel like she was a duck in a carnival shooting game. She wished he didn’t scowl so much.
Zoe pursed her lips. “I’ll get to that. But there’s another big step that comes next.” Yup, she was going to take the leap. She had no way of seeing over the edge anyway, no idea where this was going to land her. “Christmas of my senior year, before I got my bachelor’s degree and entered grad school, my parents came to visit me from Hawaii. We went to Washington DC for few days to see the sights. One night, we had tickets to a concert at the Kennedy Center. Colonel Guthrie and his wife Maeve joined us for the show and then a late dinner.” Zoe stopped to clear her throat. She realized she’d been using a lot of filler. Telling a broad story as a means of stalling. She knew Gage had probably picked up on the change from her normally succinct exchanges. Zoe sought out his gaze. She read curiosity and worry in his expression, but also affection. She sent him a little smile of gratitude.
“Over dinner, my dad was asking how my research was coming. I was explaining the biomarkers and how I was investigating the efficacy of using them in the forensics field and what I planned to do in grad school to further that research. At the end of the night, Colonel Guthrie asked me to come and talk to him before I headed back to school, and I did. He thought that having a compendium of information about the unique markers could have a big impact on the war on terrorism. He envisioned having a parallel system to CODIS. CODIS being the FBI’s database of DNA. I told you about the Innocence Project, and that gathering DNA has prohibitive issues, mainly the back log and expense of testing it. But testing my markers could let the government know if this was a likely person of interest or not. Colonel Guthrie envisioned a military application for building a library of blood biomarker data to try to identify terrorists. The problem for the military at that time—this was back in December 2009 and our fight in Iraq and Afghanistan—was that it is very hard to identify the bad guys in the field. It’s still a problem with groups like ISIS. Their cultural dress and facial hair make it very hard to photograph them and use facial recognition software or ear identification marks.”
Both Gage and Titus nodded their heads.
“One of the things that I found was that ninety-one percent of the unchanging biomarkers I identified are familial. The remaining nine percent are unique to the family member.”
“What aspects are you measuring?” Titus asked.
Zoe blinked. How did he expect her to describe what she had developed to someone who didn’t know squat about the subject? “That’s classified. I’m sharing the absolute minimum for you to understand. And I’m probably breaching my contract by explaining this much.”
“Right now, law enforcement uses familial DNA to identify a suspect,” Titus said.
“Right, exactly. But there are groups that don’t want everyone’s DNA to be gathered and stored, even if someone is convicted of a crime by a court of law. They think it’s unconstitutional and the question needs to be decided by the Supreme Court. DNA, at this point, is our best identifier. We do need to be very careful about how we use DNA. My tests aren’t the same. They can’t be used—they were never intended to be used—to identify someone as the culprit. If anyone tried to do that, to use my test to prove guilt, I’d go to court myself to fight it.”
“How did Colonel Guthrie think your tests could help in a war zone?”
“He’s a director of DARPA, they subcontract with other entities who do defense research and development. They, for example, subcontract with me. One of the companies they work with is Montrim Industries. Colonel Guthrie wanted Montrim and their contractors to develop a system like the FBI’s CODIS. Only this would be for blood biomarkers. Running DNA on everyone is too time consuming and expensive.”
“Who is everyone?” Titus asked.
“Everyone in conflict zones.”
“What?” Gage’s eyes went wide.
“Montrim sends in teams of health care workers contracted by the US government to help with the whole “win the hearts and minds” campaign. They go village to village, set up a tent, give everyone in the village a basic medical once over, offer them health care intervention, antibiotics, immunizations, vitamins, stitches—whatever is needed. As part of the field exam, they do a blood glucose test. Blood glucose is measured by poking a finger and putting a drop of blood onto a sample strip, which is then analyzed by the machine and the number displayed. The newer strips take the tiniest bit of blood to sample. Older strips, however, absorb a blood sample large enough to analyze for the biomarkers.”
“Right there in the field?”
“No. The analysis would happen back in the Montrim laboratory. Each of the strips was carefully stored, documented, and brought back to Montrim to be put through testing, and the results were stored in a computer database.”
“That sounds like what they were trying to do with Osama Bin Laden.” Gage leaned forward and posted his forearms on his knees. “Collect DNA samples from the compound where they thought he was hiding. They sent the people in disguised as health workers.”
“Montrim started collecting the samples in late spring of 2010. The CIA had access to the data, and when they killed or captured enemy soldiers, they took samples to add to the database. In April of 2011, the CIA decided to gather information from the Bin Laden complex. I only know this because I was in grad school then, and had developed a field test machine. It was a rough prototype, not a sleek finished project. They had to hook it up to a computer screen to read the answers, but it was workable. I only had the one. I allowed the operatives to use it for a ‘special project’ so they could get their results immediately. They came to me, and I trained them on using the machine. They took it away, and then brought it back unused. I put this all together as the news reported Bin Laden was killed by SEAL Team 6. Later, Colonel Guthrie, who had facilitated
the CIA’s access to my machine, confirmed my suspicions.” Zoe shrugged. “Colonel Guthrie said agents went to the complex under the same ruse that Montrim had been using in Iraq, Syria, and Afghanistan. But they were shooed away before they could get a single blood sample.”
Gage shook his head. “Yeah, but the US didn’t have a sample of Bin Laden’s DNA or blood to compare.”
“We had familial samples. If they got blood from the children, they’d do the presumptive test. If that was positive, they’d send the samples back to the US for DNA analysis. Of course, just because Bin Laden’s wives and children were in a complex didn’t mean Bin Laden was there. But it would have been a big clue. And the presumptive tests would tell them whether or not they should go through the effort to test for DNA.”
“That’s nuts, Zoe.” Gage was grinning.
Zoe frowned back at him. “What is?”
“I thought you cleaned beakers in a lab. But instead you were one of the masterminds trying to take down Bin Laden.”
“Yeah, right. That’s like telling the Sig Sauer manufacturer that he’s responsible for the Bin Laden takedown because he built the gun strapped to one of the SEAL’s ankles. I’m just the geek girl in the lab, trying to help the Innocence Project.”
“I’d like to go back to discussing Montrim and their database, if you don’t mind, Zoe,” Titus said. “Montrim set this all up. And you said you were developing a field test. I’d like to hear more about that and where you are with your research currently.”
“Hey, Zoe, are you okay?” Gage had fixed his gaze on her face. “Maybe you should stop and eat something.”
Zoe didn’t want to be “that girl”—the one who was delicate and needy. So even though Gage was right, and she was feeling shaky and sweaty, she wanted to power through this explanation. “I will in a second. Titus, to answer your question, biomarkers were proving helpful in the war against terror. But there was still an unfortunate gap between the time that blood was collected and archived in the States and getting the info back to the boots on the ground. DARPA pushed me to move forward with my long-term goal, helping law enforcement. In order to be of consequence to law enforcement here, and to the armed forces in the Middle East, they needed instant analysis, giving law enforcement the ability to hold a suspect rather than having to let them go while tests were being run.”
“You’re very careful about using the term law enforcement, so I’m assuming that this wasn’t for the police,” Titus asked. Zoe could see his mind churning.
“Right,” she replied.
Gage picked up one of business cards on the coffee table. “So for the FBI, like Special Agent Damion Prescott?”
Zoe debated whether she should respond.
“Did you work with Parker and Grossman?” Gage pointed at the cards.
“No, I don’t work with the CIA. But you were right about Prescott. He’s in charge of the FBI’s side of the field trial. It’s been going on since late 2012.”
“This would save so many resources. It’s an amazing invention. I’d like to get my hands on this for Iniquus,” Titus said.
Gage pushed the business cards back into a nice, neat row. “How did Prescott know you were in trouble? How did he get on scene so fast?”
“When I was under my bed, I sent him an SOS text.”
“And he wanted to safeguard you because of this tech. I wonder why he couldn’t come up with a safe house.”
“I have no idea. Sorry.” Zoe clapped her hands on either side of her head. “I really need to stop talking and get something to eat.” She glanced toward the kitchen. As she said that out loud she became acutely aware of the nausea that she felt when her mind got so busy that she forgot to take care of her body. She needed fuel. Now.
“I need to call Prescott,” Gage told her as Zoe made her way into the kitchen. “Ask him if he has anything new.”
“Yeah, I’d really like to know too.” She yanked the fridge door open.
“But after you eat I need you to tell me how Lily is involved with this. You started this whole story with Lily living next to you in the dorm and said that you’d get to her in a moment.”
Zoe gathered what she needed for a sandwich. She snagged a nectarine and bumped the door closed with her hip. “When I started my doctoral program, Lily had just graduated with her MBA, she’d taken the CPA exam and had that certification, but she was up against a really difficult job market. Competing against people who had ten years of experience under their belts, while she was still wet behind the ears.” Zoe slapped a quick sandwich together, and she took a big bite. She gave herself a moment to chew and swallow before she said, “Usually, UVA’s Darden program is a launching pad to the best jobs in the US, but with the recession in full swing and industries putting a moratorium on hiring, there weren’t any job openings to compete for. She told me that she had gotten a bite from Montrim Industries and was in town for an interview. We had dinner and she asked what I was working on.”
“Which was?”
Zoe took another bite to buy herself some time. Should she? Shouldn’t she? She swallowed, and then took a few breaths with closed eyes. The full force of both of the warriors sitting in the living room was overwhelming. She looked from one face to the other. She really didn’t have a choice. Zoe sucked a deep breath through her nostrils and on the exhale she said, “WASPs.”
Chapter Sixteen
GAGE
Titus lifted his chin in Gage’s direction to catch his attention. After years in battle, where micro-gestures protected their locations from enemy eyes, it didn’t take much to convey a message. Gage shifted silently toward his buddy while Zoe was busy eating.
“You said you got data off Lily Winter’s phone. When was that?” Titus asked under his breath.
“This morning in the morgue.”
“You had help?”
Gage moved Special Agent Prescott’s card over to him.
“They should have information from the autopsy by now. If Lily’s death was an accident it changes the dynamics of this situation. How about you give this guy a call and see if he won’t share his intel.”
Gage palmed the card and moved past Zoe, who sat in her own little bubble, munching her sandwich. He made his way to the bathroom and opened his phone. The call didn’t go through. He tried Titus’s number and got the same.
Gage moved to a bedroom and tried again. His alarm bells were ringing hard. He stood in the door, his eyes on Titus until Titus turned toward him then got up and strolled his way. Gage looked over at Zoe—she was off in Zoe-land thinking her thoughts, letting the gears grind and turn.
Titus moved through the door and shut it soundlessly behind him.
“My phones not functioning. No bars, where there had been four bars when I was here earlier. No connection. Unless you’ve got something going on here security-wise, I think someone’s messing with airwaves in the area.”
Titus did a quick check on his phone. When he looked up, he caught Gage’s eye and held it in a split second of silent communication. They had a plan and moved on it.
Gage surveyed the front room as he scooped up the business cards and shoved them in his front pocket. He swung his jacket on and snagged Zoe’s from the hook by the door.
Titus was busy packing the laptop and pad of paper Gage and Zoe had taken notes on. He grabbed Zoe’s overnight bag and tilted his head toward the bedroom on the right. Gage put his hand under Zoe’s elbow, his index finger making a hush sign. He swept the last of her food from the counter, dumping it into the garbage. Everything was cleared as if they had never been there except for the groceries in the fridge. Nothing he could do about that.
Zoe’s eyes widened, asking him what was going on. He didn’t have an answer other than the prickle that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It was the feeling he got when someone had a bead on him and was about to squeeze the trigger. He moved Zoe to the room that Titus had disappeared into, back to the open door of the bathroom. He could make
out Titus’s silhouette behind the rippled glass shower doors. He steered Zoe into the bathroom and shut the door.
Inside the tub, on the back wall, Titus had opened an escape hatch. Gage pressed Zoe forward, over the lip of the tub and into Titus’s waiting hands. Titus whispered in her ear and pushed her toward the opening. She lifted one foot into the hole then she was climbing down a ladder. Titus nodded toward Gage, who followed her down. Titus handed him the computer, followed by Zoe’s bag then her coat. Gage, in turn, handed them down to Zoe’s outstretched hands. Titus entered the tunnel, then pulled the hidden door shut, and locked it from their side, preventing anyone from following them along this escape route. Gage and Titus made quick work of the ladder, coming to rest in a dark underground tunnel. With a snap and a shake, Titus’s face lit up in the pink glow of a chem-light. He handed it to Zoe.
“What’s happening?” In the dim light, it was hard to read Zoe’s face, but to Gage’s ear, her voice sounded firm and strong.
“Looks like someone’s jamming the cellphones. Someone might have located this safe house,” he whispered.
“Are you sure there’s not an issue because of the materials used to construct the place?”
It was cold in the tunnel. As Zoe spoke, Gage handed her her jacket, and she quickly pulled it on.
“Or maybe it’s our distance from cell towers? Or a carrier malfunction? There are reasons for not being able to make a phone call other than there being wolves at the door, right?” she asked.
“Could be, but it’s always good practice to go over an escape route. Let’s chuck this up to doing a drill.” Titus pulled a bulletproof vest from a hook on the wall. “Here you go, Zoe, it’s going to be a little big, but you can make do.”
