A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10)

by Gerald Kubicki

  “Proceed,” Marlene ordered sharply. Banyon and his team moved to the edge of their seats as the screen filled with the picture of the elevator door. Everyone was very concerned that Bernard Schultz had left a reception committee of nanobots.

  Once the button for the elevator was pressed, the big door silently opened and nothing happened. There was enough room for the entire team to fit inside, so they piled in, with two shooters kneeling in the front for extra fire power. The picture on the screen was of the back of the head of one of the shooters. No one said anything as the elevator descended down into the earth below the barn.

  Suddenly, the elevator jerked to a stop and the door slid open. The men tensed for a possible struggle, but there was only a blank cement wall in front of them. In practiced style, the SWAT assault team deployed and realized they were in a corridor and would have to turn a corner to access the lab.

  As they rounded the corner, they were confronted with yet another turn and then a short hallway which led to a thick metal blast door. The SWAT leader realized the underground facility was directly under the barn. If it ran the full length of the barn, it would be huge. There could be many places to hide or plant a trap. But he didn’t hesitate.

  “Blow the door,” he ordered.

  One of his men stepped forward and placed a charge on the digital lock. Everyone stepped back around the corner. The shaped charge did the job with a minimal blast. The SWAT assault team flew around the corner, kicked the door open and flooded into the lab. They raced down the two aisles inside, looking for doorways and places to hide. They found none, but then came to the backroom of the lab. The leader looked through the same glass window that Bernard Schultz had a few hours before. He then reported.

  “Lab is clear. There is lots of equipment down here. I don’t know what any of it does,” The SWAT leader spoke.

  “Bring the scientists in now,” Marlene shouted. Time was running out and they still didn’t have anything to go on. She hoped that maybe the scientists could come up with something.

  Within two minutes, several trucks pulled up just outside the rear of the barn. People, wearing protective suits, started passing through the rear barn door and into the elevator. It took four trips to get them all down to the lab.

  While the forensic people entered the lab and began closely examining each beaker and piece of equipment, the cameraman kept filming the whole lab. He walked down the aisles, recording everything which was set out on the counters and anything on the floor. He had just reached the end of one counter when Banyon yelled out.

  “Marlene, can you have the cameraman zoom in on that carton he just passed,” Banyon requested excitedly. The camera steadied itself over a brown cardboard box. There were plastic packages inside.

  Marlene asked the cameraman to reach into the box and show them what was in it. He pulled out a small plastic bag. In the bag were a container and a spray pump. The container said “Major Mouth Spray. One spray and your troubles are over.”

  “It’s the other delivery system,” Banyon stated loudly. “It’s the one they used to go after the congressmen. They used a spray on them.”

  “How could you be so sure,” Haleigh challenged.

  “Look at the name on the box,” he nodded to the screen. The name on the box was “Goodness Products”.

  “Any questions?” he asked confidently.

  “Wow,” Loni gushed.

  “We’re found the order in the records,” Marlene broke in. “They didn’t buy the containers through their secret account, that’s why we missed it. Schultz bought them through the regular horse farm account, just two weeks ago.”

  “How many did he buy?” Banyon quickly asked.

  “It says here that they bought 700 bottles.”

  “But there are only 535 Congressmen,” Bart noted. “And there are only about fifty left in the box.”

  “Which means there is about a hundred not accounted for,” Haleigh quickly deduced. “They are still out there.”

  “And more people may die,” Loni lamented.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  A

  ldo was driving the van and he was very angry. “That bastard owes me money,” Aldo screamed as he pounded the steering wheel of the vehicle.

  “He owes us all money,” Raul the chef spat back.

  “Well, I want my money.” There was fire in his dark eyes.

  The others in the van cringed as he ranted on. They all knew that Aldo was a trained killer who grew up in Nicaragua. He had worked in the secret police there and had a bad reputation for losing his temper and the resulting uncontrolled violence he could dish out. He had come to America illegally and started to work for Bernard Schultz as a servant. Eventually he had also become a ‘fixer’ for the old man. Around the estate most all of the other servants tried to avoid him, but he had gotten them out of the house tonight and away from sure trouble, so everyone was grateful and kept their mouths shut.

  Aldo was nearly rabid with rage. He realized Schultz had thrown him to the wolves without a hint of sympathy. He had spent more than thirty years working for the man and now he was cast aside like a piece of old clothing. Schultz didn’t even give him time to run and access his stash. Revenge was on Aldo’s mind. He was not only going to steal Schultz’s secret treasure, but he was also going to take revenge on his slutty daughter.

  They were packed like sardines in the van as it sped down route 60 towards interstate I-94. The highway would take them to Milwaukee and the airport. There were actually twelve people in the van which explained why they had to jettison the baggage. One of the maids had a sister visiting. In all there were eight men and four terrified women. The men all had guns. The women mumbled prayers.

  Aldo was just coming up on the huge Hawthorn mall when he spotted the road block up ahead. “Goddamnit,” he roared and quickly turned into the mall. He instantly realized the cops were after them and knew they were in a white van.

  “Are we going to hide in the mall?” One of the women nervously asked.

  “I’m sure the cops spotted our white van,” he spat back. “The police will be here in minutes. We need to split up,” he added as he skidded to a stop in the middle of the large, crowded, lot.

  “Why are we running? We’ve done nothing wrong,” another woman cried out. “Let them catch us.”

  “You’re illegal in the country to start,” Aldo snapped back as he sat in the driver’s seat. “Our employer has also done some really bad criminal things. Do you think anybody will believe that we are innocent?”

  “But where will we go?” Another woman cried out. “We haven’t any money.”

  “Get out now,” Aldo yelled. No one argued with him.

  As they exited the van, Aldo produced a huge wad of money. “Break up into pairs,” he ordered. “You all have my cell phone number. Find a place to hide and call me tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock. I’ll tell you where we can meet up.” He then handed each person some money. Aldo knew that in order to protect himself, he had to protect the others right now. The longer the servants were on the loose the better chance he had of getting away and he fully intended to get away. He turned to leave.

  “Where are you going?” Raul the chef demanded.

  “I’m going to get our money,” he said in a hiss.

  “Then I’m going with you, my friend,” Raul replied as they heard sirens coming their way.

  The servants began to run in many directions. Fortunately, they had all changed from their servant uniforms and now could blend into the crowds in the mall. The longer they stayed undetected, the better chance Aldo had of getting away. He knew they would not evade the police for long — none of them were trained like he was.

  Aldo and Raul went in search of a car to hijack. They found one, five rows over, just as several police cars pulled up to the van with lights flashing. They could hear many more sirens coming in the distance. Aldo jump started the car and calmly pulled out of the lot and on to route 60, but this time he h
eaded back west towards the horse farm.

  Within minutes, the entire mall was locked down. No one could get out. The police officers, security agents, and firemen blocked all the entrances and exits. Trained detectives flooded into the mall and began to clear each person, one at a time. Others worked through the crowd. They all had pictures of the servants for comparison. It took less than one hour to find all the servants. They were shooed into police wagons and whisked to downtown Chicago for some intense questioning. But Aldo and Raul were safely away by then.

  ***

  “Where are we headed? We can’t get around all these cops,” Raul complained as he looked back at the mall.

  “We may not be able to go around them, but we can go over them,” Aldo replied with an evil grin.

  Aldo made several turns and eventually came to Milwaukee Avenue, he then headed south. Soon Raul saw a small airport off to his left. The sign said Chicago Executive Airport, formerly Palwaukee Municipal Airport. Aldo turned into the gate and slowly drove past several buildings. He stopped in front of one which didn’t have any cars parked out front and got out of the stolen car.

  “Let me do the talking,” Aldo said as he and Raul approached the front door.

  As soon as they got inside the door, Aldo politely asked the pretty very young woman at the front desk if they had any planes available to rent. When the girl replied they only had one jet and one pilot, he quickly told her they needed a fast jet, right now. She quickly called the pilot on her intercom and he ambled out to the front.

  “Can your jet make it to Laughlin, Nevada?” Aldo asked the pilot as he reached the counter.

  “Its range is much more than that and she’s all fueled up too,” the pilot confidently replied.

  “Good,” Aldo responded. He suddenly produced his gun and waved it at the young, now frightened, girl. “Then you are going to take all of us to Nevada right now.”

  The pilot was a veteran military flyer and cool as a cucumber. “It’ll cost you ten grand,” he said. “You got that kind of money?”

  “I have the money,” Aldo said and produced a wad of bills. “I have it in cash.”

  “But we don’t have a flight plan,” the pilot immediately replied. “The tower won’t give us clearance. That could take a couple of hours.”

  Aldo aimed the gun and placed a shot into the wall inches from the girls head. The gunshot scared everybody. “How long before we take off now?”

  ***

  Ten minutes later, the pilot fired up the engines and requested clearance. Raul was seated in the co-pilot seat and the girl was tied up on one of the executive seats in the back. Aldo wanted to spend the flight getting acquainted with her.

  “I don’t want us to be on radar either,” Aldo informed the pilot as he pressed the gun into his neck from behind him.

  “I’m going to have to fly real low and slow then. It’s going to be real bumpy,” the pilot warned him.

  “Take your time. I’ve got my inflight entertainment already planned.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  T

  he President of the United States had set up shop and was working in the bunker well below the White House. He had heeded Colton Banyon’s warning and locked himself in the bunker with only a few trusted aides. He and Banyon had been involved in several cases together over the years and he trusted Colton Banyon’s judgment.

  The President had learned about Banyon’s secret from Special Agent Gregory Gamble, before he was killed, and had never told anyone else about Banyon’s secret. He swore to Banyon he would not betray him if Banyon helped him with delicate issues. He told him he would also be paid for his work. The President set Banyon up with the law offices of Dewey & Beatem and his college roommate Bart Longwood. Banyon was the President’s ace up his sleeve.

  “That’s right sir. The Senate no longer can function without a quorum and technically the federal government can’t function, either,” an aide nervously informed him.

  “How could so many asshole Congressmen not believe the warnings I gave them,” he ranted in frustration. “All they had to do was stay out of the limelight until we found out who was trying to kill them. But noooo…,” he roared and waved his hands in the air as he paced the room. “You know, I’ll bet some of them thought it was some kind of a political ruse set up to make them look bad. Politicians are such idiots.”

  “But now that they are dead, sir, you have to do something,” the aide responded.

  “What’s the situation in the capital?” The President suddenly barked out.

  “We have only had two more deaths since the last full report from Marlene Moore. The majority of deaths, other than the Congressmen, are at the Pentagon, so we are able to contain the media for now, but there are already several riots and much looting in the city. The CDC insists we quarantine the metro area. We need to call in the National Guard or the Army before this gets too far out of hand,” his aide said.

  “And we still don’t know what is killing these people, do we? We still are nowhere on this crisis.”

  “Homeland Security thinks the people doing the killing are using a small plastic pump-sprayer. They believe nanobots are mixed into the spray, but we don’t know what the containers are carrying. It could also be poison or some sort of plague. And sir, there appears to be about a hundred more containers of the spray missing.”

  “Dear God,” the President muttered and put his face in his hands.

  “Are you ready to make the call?”

  The President was pensive for a minute. “Very well, let’s call in the army. Who is in charge right now?”

  “That would be Vice Admiral Michael Meyers,” the aide replied as he read from a chart. “He is the commandant of USNORTHCOM.”

  “Get him on the phone,” the President ordered.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  “W

  e need to find the other hundred spray containers before more people start dying,” Haleigh spoke logically.

  “Maybe they sent them by mail to Washington. Are there any large postal charges on the horse farm records?” Chase asked Marlene.

  “We don’t see any, but they could have paid cash at any post office. There would be no record,” she replied. Everyone was frustrated. The solutions to the many problems seemed just out of reach.

  “What do you think Colt?” Loni inquired, knowing that Banyon probably had more information from Wolf.

  “I think the containers are still someplace in the Chicago area,” Banyon said after a few seconds.

  “Why do you think that?” Haleigh quickly challenged. “The deaths are occurring in Washington D.C.”

  “Well,” Banyon said, as he rubbed the day old stubble on his chin. He stood up and began to pace the room. “There are several clues. We can’t find any record of any shipments of the containers and yet we know the real killings are scheduled to start tomorrow in Chicago. We also know Schultz wants chaos in the streets of the city — that way — martial law will have to be declared. The Effort also has a very strong following in the Chicago area. They have well over one hundred members there. My guess is the Effort will be out in force spraying people tomorrow.”

  “I’m going to have every known member of the Effort in Chicago picked up immediately. We’ll charge them all with domestic terrorism and get them off the street,” Marlene said and turned to someone off screen to give the order.

  “But can we get them all?” Steve asked.

  “Probably not,” she answered professionally. “But maybe we can seriously damage their plans. That’s better than nothing.”

  “But we still need to figure out who the Effort will be attempting to kill tomorrow with the nanobots,” Loni said. “If we can figure out who their target is we will have a fighting chance of stopping them.

  “I believe the people who will be sprayed will be people in the same targeted group which will receive the credit cards,” Banyon offered. “Remember, these Effort assholes think they are protecting America and
want to get rid of anyone they consider undesirable. It’s logical to assume they will try to be as effective as possible.”

  “They should spray themselves,” Bart said sarcastically. “They are the real undesirable ones.”

  “If only we knew who the targets were, we could figure out where the Effort will hit,” Haleigh the detective whined.

  “We may know something in a few minutes,” Marlene replied as she read from a piece of paper that was handed to her. “Postal inspectors are going through the mail at the main center in Chicago as we speak.”

  “Hope they can work fast,” Loni said in a worried voice.

  “What do we know so far?” Banyon suddenly asked.

  “Okay,” Bart said and clapped his hands. “I’ll recap. We know who is causing the killings — Bernard Schultz. We know what they intend to do — kill millions of targeted people. We know when they will strike — tomorrow morning. We know where — Chicago, and we know how they will attempt to do it — by using nanobots. Finally, we should know something about the people being targeted in a few minutes. We also think we will have a line on where Schultz is going as soon as they reach their new destination and Carl Catfish fires up his computer. Is there anything we have forgotten?”

  “Yeah, there is” Banyon muttered. “We need to figure out who the person who wants to be a dictator is. Then arrest him.”

  “Colt’s right,” Steve agreed. “No matter what happens, the country is already in crisis. There are riots in the streets of Washington and the government is paralyzed. The President will have no choice but to implement martial law as soon as more killings start. The military dictator could be an Effort member and have immense power.”

  “Marlene, have you run background checks on the possible appointees?” Bart asked. “Maybe there is something to learn there.”