Viable Threat

by Julie Rowe

  Chapter Nineteen

  9:32 a.m.

  Ava wanted to do more than hit the people behind all this death and destruction. She’d like to kick and stomp on them, too.

  “I don’t blame you,” River said, his voice too agreeable. “I’d like to get in a few punches myself.”

  “Stop being so nice,” she hissed at him. She wasn’t a child to be placated with a few yes dear, you’re absolutely right dear phrases.

  River took a step closer, invading her personal space. “I don’t do nice.”

  She held her ground, sick to death of the whole situation. “What do you do?”

  She couldn’t see his mouth, thanks to the respirator, but his eyes told her he was grinning. His gaze slid down her face to focus on her lips.

  Really?

  She rolled her eyes. “Forget I asked.”

  “No changes.” His voice rumbled through her, ensuring she’d never forget. “No take backs.”

  She took a step away as Dozer came back. He handed River a new ECC device. “Your escort is waiting for you in the decontamination area.”

  “I thought it was overrun,” River said.

  “The area by the mobile lab wasn’t.”

  River nodded at the agent. “As soon as Palmer gets back, we’re on our way.” He glanced at Rodrigues. “Stay close to her,” he said to Dozer. “The terrorists may figure out she’s the one calling the shots, not the governor or FEMA.”

  “That occurred to me, too.” Dozer’s smile was so vicious Ava found herself backing away a couple of steps.

  “She said she worked with you before,” River said. “When was that?”

  Dozer’s face hardened. “SARs outbreak in 2003.”

  River had seen Dozer’s expression on other men. Men who’d survived monsters and death. “Watch your six,” River told him.

  “You, too.” Dozer nodded at her. “Doctor.”

  “Agent.”

  Dozer walked over to stand behind Dr. Rodrigues.

  “Something happened to him,” Ava whispered.

  “Something bad,” River agreed.

  “Sorry it took so long,” Palmer said, approaching them. He’d changed his shirt and washed the blood off his exposed skin.

  “I’ll take point. Palmer, you’ve got the rear.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  River glanced at her. “Let’s go.”

  “Yes, dear,” she said in a nasal whine that had both men looking at her like she’d lost her mind.

  River shook his head. “Let’s see if we can check in with Henry.” He led the way out of the ER via the staff exit.

  The mess outside had all of them slowing down.

  Yellow caution tape lay torn and limp on the ground, hugging cement curbs and broken safety barriers. Those barriers, made of wood and plastic, had been snapped into chunks and broken apart.

  A lone shoe and a black handbag had been shoved against the side of the building, blood splattered here and there on the pavement.

  Ava shook her head. “It looks like the ring at a pay-per-view wrestling tournament.”

  “I’ll have to take you to a live match some time,” River said, looking around.

  “No thanks. I prefer to leave my work at work.”

  “I can appreciate that. What do you do for fun?”

  “Sudoku.”

  He snorted and leaned down to whisper. “You are a prickly one, Mouse.”

  “Keep calling me a rodent, and you’re going to find out how prickly.”

  “I don’t know, that sounds like it could be fun.”

  Damned if she didn’t agree.

  Off to the left was a line of CDC vehicles parked bumper to headlights. A narrow gap between two vans was guarded by two soldiers in Army uniforms carrying rifles and wearing respirators.

  Henry’s lab sat on the other side.

  They approached the two soldiers. Ava held out her CDC ID badge. River and Palmer gave their names.

  “You’re on the list,” one of the soldiers said after he consulted his tablet.

  On the other side was another sort of chaos, one composed of a brigade or two of soldiers guarding the perimeter. Or was it a unit? She’d have to ask River what the different groups of soldiers were called.

  Inside the boundaries was another tent set up with food and drink, a first-aid station—about ten times too small—and an area covered by another larger tent where people were sleeping.

  They headed for Henry’s lab and were met by Major Ramsey and two armed soldiers.

  “Privates Hall and Castillo,” Ramsey said. “If you get them dirty, clean them before you return them.” He walked away.

  “Sir, ma’am,” one of the soldiers said. “Your orders?”

  “We’re going to interview a senator,” she told them. “He isn’t going to be happy about it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hall said.

  “Do you talk?” River asked the other man.

  Castillo finally opened his mouth. “Only when I’ve got something to say, Sergeant.”

  “Good enough.”

  “We’ve got a military vehicle standing by.”

  River gave Palmer the address of the senator’s home, and they headed out.

  The home they ended up at was only about ten minutes away and in an affluent part of the city. There probably wasn’t a house on the block worth less than a million and a half. The senator’s home was the largest Ava could see, and it had a gate across the driveway.

  It was closed and had a no trespassing sign on it.

  They parked outside the gate and tried to push it open. Locked.

  “Got a crowbar in that machine?” River asked the soldiers.

  Castillo nodded and got something out of the rear cargo area. The crowbar he handed River was black and looked like it had been used a few times.

  It didn’t take River two minutes to force the gate open.

  They all got back into the Hummer painted in desert camo and drove up to the front door.

  “Stay here,” River said to Palmer. “Everyone else with me.” He hopped down and knocked on the door.

  A scratchy-sounding man’s voice came from an intercom box next to the door. “You’re trespassing. The police are on their way.”

  “Mark Harris, this is the CDC,” River said. “We need to speak to you, sir. It’s a matter of some urgency.”

  “I’ve already spoken with Homeland Security.”

  “Yes, we’re aware. However, there have been a few developments. We have several follow-up questions.”

  There was no response.

  River knocked again. And again.

  “The police are on their way,” the voice said again. “I will have you prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

  “Actually, sir,” River said, his voice warm with apology, “the CDC will have you prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

  “Stay right there,” the voice said.

  “Like we were going to go anywhere,” Ava muttered. She gave River a narrow-eyed look. “Why are you being so nice to him?”

  “I wouldn’t call it nice,” River said in a wry tone. “More of a here’s something sticky-sweet so you’ll walk into my trap.”

  “You are a very strange man,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I blame it on the head injury.”

  The door opened. A silver-haired man with broad shoulders and a square jaw stood in the doorway. “Explain,” he barked.

  River held up his CDC ID badge. “Senator Mark Harris?”

  The man in the doorway stepped back and tried to close the door.

  River stuck his foot in the doorjamb, then put his shoulder to the door and shoved it open. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Ava followed, with the two soldiers right behind her.

  “Get out,” Harris ordered. “Stacy, call the police!”

  “You said you already called them.” River shook a finger at the senator. “You lied, didn’t you?”

  M
ark Harris ground his teeth together. “I will end your career.”

  “Really?” River asked, stepping into the senator’s personal space. “I’ve already survived three explosions today, so you’re welcome to take your best shot.” It was a threat.

  This was getting them nowhere. “Where is your son, Senator?” Ava asked.

  “None of your damned business.”

  “It’s very much our business.” She sighed. “He ran away from Homeland Security.”

  The senator’s face didn’t change. So, not a surprise then.

  “He was in protective custody.”

  That got a snort out of him.

  “He was showing symptoms of an illness that’s killed sixty-three people so far today.” She searched his face for any sign that he might understand just how much danger his son was in.

  Nothing.

  “Mr. Harris, your son’s roommate, Roger, had the same symptoms before he died. His other two roommates were found dead in their apartment. An apartment with a bathroom full of chemicals and bacterial cultures.”

  “Don’t forget the half-dozen fragmentation grenades,” River added. “We have a lot of unanswered questions, and Ethan is the only person who can answer them.”

  “You don’t know what was in that bathroom, because, oh yes, it exploded. All you have is guesswork and assumptions based on too little information.” The senator drew himself up and pronounced like a preacher on Sunday, “I won’t let you accuse my son of anything just because he’s convenient. These terrorist attacks have nothing to do with him.”

  “Sir, we need to talk to him so we can rule him out as a suspect. By accident, he may have overheard or seen details that could save lives and prevent any other attacks.”

  “You have no proof he’s involved any more than any other college student.”

  “One,” River held up a finger. “His roommate had a backpack full of explosives, which were detonated in a public place. Two”—another finger went up—“his apartment contained several military-grade explosive devices, two dead bodies, and a bathroom full of science equipment. Three” —a third finger went up—“we attempted to search the college biology lab he used as part of a course he was taking. The door was booby trapped. The room exploded, killing three FBI’s bomb squad agents and taking out the entire second floor of the building.” River dropped his hand. “Three strikes, Mr. Harris.”

  Mark Harris frowned at them. “What biology course? He wasn’t taking any classes like that.”

  “It’s in his student profile.”

  “How did you get that?” Harris asked, his face turning ruddy. “The college challenged your right to that information in court.”

  “Sir, given the speed at which the infection is spreading, and killing, the court convened an hour ago. The case was thrown out, and the CDC’s authority in this state of emergency was upheld.”

  Harris staggered back a step, his jaw slack. “No. My lawyer would have informed me.”

  “I suspect he will soon. But it means that if you lie to us or hinder our investigation, you will be charged with obstruction of justice.” Ava took a step toward him. “Please, if Ethan has the illness, and I think that likely, he needs immediate advanced medical care. He won’t survive on his own.”

  The senator drove his hands through his hair, clutching at the short strands like he wanted to rip them out. “He’s not responsible for it. He couldn’t be.”

  “Where is he?” Ava asked.

  “Not here,” Harris answered, all of the fight gone out of him. “He said he was in trouble early yesterday, but it was a misunderstanding, and he could handle it himself. He didn’t want us to get involved.”

  “But you asked someone,” River said. “A friend, in Homeland Security, to look the other way?”

  “Geer is a family friend. He wanted to help.”

  “Geer is dead.” River dropped that bomb without any warning.

  Harris jerked back like he’d been punched. “What?”

  “A few hours ago. He collapsed in the college dorm where your son lived. I barely got him out before the explosion, but he died shortly after.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “He was showing symptoms of the illness.”

  Harris stared at River like a man who’d just discovered that he’d lost everything.

  “Where did Ethan go?” Ava asked.

  Mark Harris’s voice shook. “He said he had proof the police would want to see and friends who could help him.”

  “Which friends? What proof?”

  “I don’t know!” Harris’s eyes were bloodshot and full of tears. “He said he would call.”

  “How did he get to these friends? Does he have a car?”

  “He took mine.”

  “GPS?”

  “Yes, it’s got it.”

  River pulled out his cell and punched in a number. “Dozer? I need to find a car registered to Senator Mark Harris.”

  Ava watched the senator’s face, noting his shaking hands and the sweat beading on his forehead. “Sir, were you in close contact with Ethan today?”

  “He’s my son.”

  She’d take that as a yes. “May I check your temperature?”

  He nodded, and she pulled out the packet of disposable temperature patches and put one on his forehead. It displayed the indicator for a severely high fever.

  “Sir, you need to go to the hospital.”

  Chapter Twenty

  10:03 a.m.

  River heard the word hospital and stopped pacing to look at the senator. Sweaty, flushed face, glassy eyes, and emotional.

  “Does Ethan have a phone with him?”

  “He left it in his room,” Mark Harris said. “He said he didn’t want the police to be able to find him until he was ready.”

  “And that didn’t make you nervous, him talking about hiding from the police?”

  “At the time, it seemed more reasonable.”

  “How about now?” River snarled. “Still reasonable?” When the senator just looked at him blankly, River shook his head. “Where’s his room?”

  “Up the stairs, second door on the left.” Harris’s shoulders drooped, and a sob shook him. “I’m sorry. He’s my son.”

  River didn’t answer his plea for forgiveness. Neither did Ava.

  He nodded at Castillo to stay with Ava, then went up the stairs to Ethan’s room. It had all the normal things a college student would have: bed, chest of drawers, desk with a laptop computer on it, and dirty clothes on the floor. The housekeeper hadn’t had time to clean up after him. Good. He’d bag up the clothes and give them to the FBI for their forensic techs to look at.

  He opened the laptop and stared for a moment at the prompt for a password. He tried a few of the most popular ones with no result, then tried a few that might be on a home-grown terrorist’s mind. He hit pay dirt with jihad.

  The computer was virtually blank. No files, documents, or spreadsheets. His internet search history was empty, and he had no email.

  The shithead had erased everything.

  But maybe not good enough. The FBI’s tech guys might be able to resurrect it.

  A cell phone sat on the desk next to the laptop. It looked blank, too, as if it had been reset to factory settings.

  He’d take both devices with him.

  A look around the rest of the room didn’t reveal anything new about the kid or what he might be involved in. It was all so ordinary and average, but it was also all so superficial, as if he were a character in a movie and this was nothing more than a set. Hadn’t his father noticed any changes in his son’s behavior? Or was he just too wrapped up in his own little list of issues, grievances, and events to pay attention?

  He picked up the electronics and dirty clothes, then left the kid’s room. Nothing left there but broken promises and discarded dreams.

  As he went down the stairs, his ECC device beeped.

  “River.”

  “The GPS on that car isn’t functioning.” />
  “Thanks.” Fuck.

  He raised his voice. “We’re heading back to the hospital.”

  Mark Harris grabbed Ava’s arm and pulled her to a stop. “Please, help my son. I can’t believe he’d willingly do anything to hurt anyone.”

  “You think he’s been coerced?”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Ava,” River said. “We’ve got to go.”

  They got into their vehicle, the sound of sirens everywhere in the city, and filled Palmer in as he turned the Hummer around and drove back the way they came.

  “Do you think we’ll find Ethan Harris in time?” Ava asked.

  “In time for what?”

  “To stop whatever is supposed to happen next.”

  “I don’t know,” River answered her. They’d been five steps behind the orchestrator of all this evil all day. “I’m not even sure we’ll find him alive.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of, too.”

  “What are the chances he’s the brains behind all this shit?” Palmer asked.

  “Nah, it’s not him,” River said. “How this kind of terrorist cell works is pretty consistent. A slightly older student plants a few seeds, talks about how government is too big and wants too much control over people’s lives and money. Then a teacher comes in, someone not too old or too young, to explain how the world really works and that America is actually the school-yard bully. The leader is the one who sells you bad weed and watered-down alcohol, then beats you up just to feel like he’s in control of something.”

  They weren’t more than two minutes from the hospital now.

  “Ethan Harris isn’t in charge, he’s cannon fodder. Disposable. But he might know enough for us to figure out who the leader is.”

  “If he’s like Roger Squires, he’ll be prepared to die for his cause,” Ava said. “That makes him dangerous.”

  “Makes him a weapon. Something none of us should forget.” River glanced at Ava and at the soldiers in the backseats to include them in the warning.

  Ava met his gaze and nodded.

  Palmer slowed the vehicle to a stop behind a line of cars and trucks. None of them were moving.