Nobility

by Dana Lyons

  He eyed them each up and down and notched his chin in respect. “What’s the risk level?”

  The horrific words stuck in her throat, but she had to let him know.“Extreme. Biohazard.”

  “I see, so you have containment on the way?” He tilted his head and lifted a hand as though listening for sirens.

  “Considering our suspect, we felt a low-key capture the best approach,” she answered. But his face was shutting down.

  He’s playing tough with the Feds, Rhys said.

  “Well,” Sam continued. “I’m paid by Dulles to protect the customers who pass through this airport. If allowing you to cowboy through here alone jeopardizes my customers, I can’t let it happen.”

  “I understand your concerns, but your problems are localized. My problems are global. I want to stop this contagion not only before it gets loose, but also by catching those in charge up the line. We’re not sure what we’re dealing with … and we’re not sure who’s behind it.”

  She leaned forward and locked eyes with him. “Do you want to catch the courier, or do you want the individual at the top who’s giving the orders?”

  As their gazes held, a brittle silence bore down on the room. She nudged. “I have an exceptional team with a reasonable chance of nailing someone bigger than the mule. We think we can catch him and his handler and start a trail up to the source. With your help.”

  He squinted, his movements saying he agreed with her, but the biohazard was holding him back. She knew the mindset he was operating in. Before Nobility, that’s what I would have thought, but we don't have time.

  She gave two slow blinks, drawing him in before applying pressure. “Or I can call for a warrant which will take time and we’ll lose our opportunity to stop this in its tracks. Dulles will become a ground zero event. On your watch.”

  “Sounds like we have the same chance of being ground zero no matter whose watch it’s on,” he replied.

  “Exactly.”

  “Then, are you willing to take responsibility?”

  She nodded. “Let it be on the FBI’s watch.”

  His eye twitched and she knew she had him.

  “All right. I’m going to trust in the recommendations of the FBI and give you jurisdiction.” He stood and brushed his hands on his pants. “How can I help?”

  She told Rhys, I want you in the air.

  “I’m going out to oversee the perimeter,” Rhys said and stepped from the room.

  Quinn asked, “Can I see maps of the area where these passengers are disembarking?”

  Collins tapped on a keyboard and schematics filled the monitor. “Got it,” Quinn said, and he and Simon moved in to study the floor plan.

  She pulled the chief aside. “Sam, what can you tell me about this Shenandoah Airport?”

  “It’s a good facility, well run for the most part. They had trouble with their x-ray machine—been waiting for a new one for weeks. But they have top notch baggage inspectors.”

  The news didn’t make her happy. But thanks to Simon knowing about the game board, they at least had Harper’s final instructions about dispersal.

  Quinn called them over. “I have a game plan.”

  She and Sam gathered with Quinn and Simon at the monitor.

  “Passengers disembark here and have to progress along this passageway to get to the hub leading to exits or to baggage pickup.” Quinn pointed. “If we can keep him from entering the hub, we have a better chance of containment.”

  “But that’s where the most congestion is after a plane unloads,” Sam said. “There’ll be hundreds of passengers pouring into that bottle neck.”

  “So, we need to catch him straight out of the loading bridge,” Dreya said. She gazed off, trying to come up with an answer she liked. Using a gun and causing a panic was out of the question.

  “Do you have a tranquilizer?” Quinn asked. I have no doubt there’ll be a handler, maybe two on site. I could use tranquilizers to take them down.

  I think that’s a good idea, she answered.

  “I have tranquilizers,” Sam said. “You can have whatever you need.”

  Quinn pointed to the monitor. “Dreya, we put you in an airline uniform and place you at the check-in desk where he’ll exit. He’ll come out, looking forward, you’ll have your face down with the cap on so he won’t see you. You’re going to try and get him from the rear or flank.

  “Simon, you’ll be a cleaning man with a cart right here. You’ll be between him and the hub.”

  “And you?” she asked.

  “I’ll have tranquilizers in case more than one handler is on site. There’ll need be at least one to witness mission accomplished.” He glanced at Simon. “Then once Harper fulfills his purpose, they’ll have a second man somewhere close by to kill him.”

  She studied the floor plan. There were too many congestion points and too many passengers to navigate around without alerting Harper. It was a no-win situation. “The most we can do is minimize crowd exposure.”

  * * *

  On the airplane, Vince checked his watch.

  Fifteen minutes to landing.

  He stood and extracted his backpack from the overhead bin and walked to the bathroom. Once inside he locked the door and sat on the seat. Sweat ran down his temple and his fingers shook.

  In a half hour, I’ll change the future of this planet.

  A slim voice of reproach tried to raise an objection, but he shut it down. “There’s no going back.” He pulled out the cigar box and removed the wrapping paper. The wood box was simply carved, nothing fancy, no adornment.

  Such an ignoble beginning for such a grand cause.

  Thinking it wise not to handle a fragile biohazard container with the jitters, he took several deep breaths to steady his hands and slow his heart. He let his chin drop and stared at the silver cigar tube in the purple velvet.

  How many foot soldiers were like me, approaching airports around the world to deliver this same biological? I’m certainly not the only one.

  He removed the tube and twisted it open. Inside, a glass vial with a pump top was fixed in a protected position within packaging. Per the instructions, he pulled out the one packing piece labeled with a red X; this left the vial loose enough in the tube for it to slide out. He placed the cigar tube in his jacket pocket and stood to gaze at his reflection.

  No horns had sprouted, no reptilian scales developed, no wicked features appeared on his person for his part in this apocalypse.

  He nodded, understanding why.

  I was born for this. And we’ll be in a better place on the other side.

  * * *

  Dreya stood at the boarding gate where Harper would exit. She had two quick-inject tranquilizers in the pocket of her airline uniform.

  Simon, dressed as a cleaning man with a cart of supplies, managed to look busy while doing nothing as he maintained his station.

  You okay?

  Yes, boss.

  Quinn? See your guy yet?

  See twelve o’clock your position. Medium build, dark hair, sunglasses. He’s so obvious, it’s laughable.

  You mean the guy that looks like you?

  Yeah. I got him, no problem.

  Rhys? How’re the air currents up there?

  Effortless. And I have an operational view of the front.

  Good. The plane’s landed; everyone stay tight.

  Beside her, Sam Collins tensed. She wanted to keep him safe. Over her shoulder she said, “I got this. Don't get in my way.”

  The first passenger came from the loading bridge.

  Heads up, show time.

  * * *

  Vince jumped from his seat in first class. He smiled graciously at the attendants as he hurried by, entered the loading bridge and rushed up the ramp to stay ahead of the crowd. He stepped to the side and pulled out the cigar tube and gently extracted the glass vial.

  Boisterous voices. He looked up.

  Passengers. Only twenty feet.

  He stuffed the cigar tube
in the breast pocket of his jacket to free his hand and twisted the nozzle on the pump to activate it.

  It didn’t move.

  Shit. What do I do?

  The crowd was overtaking him and he joined in the flow of passengers.

  * * *

  Dreya spotted Harper.

  Grey sweater with a backpack. He has something in his hand.

  She eased into the stream of passengers with a group of giggling girls between her and Harper. He doesn’t seem to be spraying. I can’t get to him.

  * * *

  From his position at a table along the wall, Tom watched as Harper approached his dispersal location, and reported into his microphone. “He doesn’t appear to be delivering. Repeat, failure.”

  Jerry answered, “Give him time.”

  “He’s fucking up, I’m telling you.” He stood to watch as Harper went by.

  * * *

  Quinn was ready when his target rose. He forcefully jostled him from behind, knocking him off balance. “Sorry mate,” he said and grabbed the man’s arm to steady him while his other hand slammed the injectable cartridge into his neck. Before the man’s lips could form a word, his eyes rolled up and he slid back into his seat.

  Quinn set the guy’s arms and head on the table. “Good boy. Sit. Stay.”

  Target one neutralized.

  Do you see any others? Dreya asked.

  Negative. Possible outside?

  * * *

  Vince passed through the area where he was instructed to spray. Up ahead, he spotted where traffic branched in several directions over a tile floor.

  I can bend down to tie my shoelace, slip the vial under my boot. Crush it when I stand.

  Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He abruptly stopped and turned around.

  Her. That cop with the eyes!

  He broke into a run.

  * * *

  Quinn saw Harper take off running. Heads up Rhys. Players in motion. He ran the perimeter, flanking Dreya. On the other side, Simon cut through the crowd.

  * * *

  Panic grabbed Vince. Before he reached the tile floor, he shouted, “Out of the way.” A path cleared in front of him and he tossed the vial into the air. It came down on the hard floor and shattered.

  He kept on running.

  * * *

  Dreya pushed people away to get to Harper, but they weren’t clearing fast enough. Harper shouted, “Out of the way!”

  Someone screamed.

  Time seemed to stop. In slow motion, people scattered in all directions. Harper jumped and tossed the vial into the air. It came down and shattered on the tile floor.

  With no time to think, she threw herself onto the vial.

  * * *

  Simon’s heart stopped when Vince tossed the vial. Before he could move, Dreya jumped face down on the shattered glass. From across the way, Quinn shouted at him, “Go!” Simon sprinted after Vince.

  Having a head start, Vince barreled through the crowd at a dead run, crashing into people and shoving them aside, heading for the exit. Simon chased him down an up-escalator, leaping over luggage and pushing people out of the way.

  Anyone who tried to stop Harper got slammed. He shot through the exit door, his head turned to search over his shoulder when he bolted into traffic.

  “Vince,” Simon shouted.

  A squeal of rubber tires and a black SUV plowed into Harper and knocked him twenty feet. The SUV veered away and sped off.

  Simon knew it was bad for Harper. Rhys, follow the black car. It just hit Harper.

  I have it, Rhys answered.

  Simon ran to Harper. He lay crumpled against the curb. One arm and leg had multiple breaks, and his sternum and ribs on one side were collapsed. Blood came from his nose and mouth.

  Knowing the injuries were fatal, Simon rushed to get answers. “Vince. Who the hell are you working with?” Fear that Harper would die before revealing anything ripped through him. “Come on Vince. Who paid you to do this? Who?”

  Harper’s lips parted. Simon bent closer.

  “Pocket.”

  Simon scrambled to search Harper’s pockets. He found a small bag containing a piece of plastic and a thumb drive. “Is this the who, Vince?”

  Harper blinked slowly in a silent ‘yes’. His lips parted again and Simon put his ear to Vince’s mouth. “Sorry,” Vince whispered, and died.

  * * *

  Dreya lay flat on the floor, the broken glass cutting through her clothes and the liquid from the vial soaking through her shirt.

  “Agent?”

  She couldn’t see from her position as she tried not to move around, but she recognized his voice. “Hey, Sam. I wish you weren’t so close. Can you back up a little?”

  His voice was tinged with sadness. “Oh, I think it’s a little late for that. You know we’re all exposed.”

  “You called it in?”

  “Yes. We’re locked down. Hazmat is on their way. I see your team member bringing in a suspect.”

  “I need you to lock this suspect up tight and I mean where no one will find him. Then, bring me a tarp and a roll of duct tape.”

  Silence suggested resistance. She reminded him, “I have jurisdiction at this scene, and if you refuse to follow an order, I’ll have your badge. Since I’m not in a position to initiate this paperwork, will you please, for the sake of God and what’s right, get what I asked for?”

  Quinn arrived with the handler.

  “Quinn, go with Sam and take your suspect,” she instructed. “Sam’s going to give you items I asked for. Please bring them, okay? And hurry.”

  “I can’t leave you alone on the floor like this,” Quinn protested.

  “Has security contained the crowd?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Sam answered. “There’s no panic, in fact, they’re watching, I think, to see what happens to you.” He cleared his throat. “I don't think you have to worry about anyone coming to disturb you.”

  “Go, please. And hurry, Quinn.”

  * * *

  Simon pocketed Vince’s small bag. In the distance, he heard sirens … lots of them. He asked, Dreya? What’s happening?

  We’re contained in here. Quinn’s with me, and Sam, too.

  To hell with—dammit, princess, what were you thinking?

  I did what had to be done to minimize exposure.

  What if you—

  Don’t go there, Simon; I’ll be okay. Nothing’s going to happen to me.

  Simon’s breath slowed to a stop.

  You think Nobility …?

  Let’s just say I have faith in Nobility. What about Harper?

  Simon touched the pocket holding the small bag. Vince is dead, but I have something from him. It may tell us who’s behind this.

  I need you to stay with his body. Don't let it out of your sight—you’re officially in charge of chain of custody. Call Jarvis, he’ll get you whatever you need. And Simon, I’ll be okay—don't worry.

  * * *

  “You want me to do what?” Quinn asked.

  Dreya felt his emotional push back and heard the resistance in his voice. “Just throw down the tarp over me,” she insisted, “and tape it to the floor. We’re trying to contain whatever this is until hazmat gets everyone relocated. Now hurry. That’s an order.”

  You’re sealing yourself up with it?

  Yes. Now hurry, please. Just do it, Quinn!

  She closed her eyes and lay her cheek on the cold tile floor. The crackle of the tarp as it was unfolded brought a shiver to her shoulders, but she mentally shook it off. The tarp settled and she heard the tape being ripped off. Gradually, darkness filled her space as she was enclosed; an opening had been left as an air hole.

  Darkness surrounded her but she wasn’t alone. Unlike her time in Fallujah with a black sack over her head for days, this time was different … she had Nobility and she had her pack. What’s going on out there? she asked.

  I’m in the ambulance with Harper, Simon replied. I called Jarvis to
get a car and some clothes and go pick up Rhys, who’s sitting on the location for our hit-and-run vehicle.

  Quinn added, The handler from inside is locked up in Sam’s office; I’ll stay with him. Hazmat is here. They’re coming in.

  Jarvis arrived with reinforcements, Rhys reported. Suspect from the vehicle is cuffed and detained. I’m taking charge of him.

  She whistled a breath through pursed lips. Everyone was working as a unit. Everyone had their job. Still, she felt their thoughts and their concern. Sam’s here watching over me. Hazmat is in control, so you all stick with your charges. Quinn and I will see you in quarantine. I don't expect to be in there for long. And, oh, Rhys, call Lazar. We’re going to need him.

  Until Hazmat collected her, the time seemed like days. As it was in Fallujah, her sense of hearing became acute. Small sounds seemed to come from everywhere, large sounds were distorted around the edges. Disorientation settled over her, and she controlled her bodily responses with bio-feedback practices she learned in the military. Her heartbeat slowed, respirations grew deep and muscles relaxed as her body went into a partial parasympathetic state.

  “Agent Love?”

  A muted voice pulled her back from a deep level of consciousness. The tarp had been untapped and one corner lifted; she saw a containment tent had been erected over her.

  “Agent, can you give us a swab before we soak you down with antiseptic?”

  She took the container he presented and removed the wooden swab. Easing onto her side, she ran the swab over the broken glass on the floor. She capped the swab and handed it back to him.

  “Due to your level of exposure, we’re going to soak you down with your clothes on before we spray you again without your clothes.”