His voice trailed off, then returned.
"You know, I sit here and think a lot. Think about the things I've done and if it really accomplished anything."
"Now dad,"
"Well dammit, I do. I mean, I spent most of my time sitting on those damn boats going up and down the river, and what did it get me. I mean, look!"
"Dad, you were always there when we needed you, and..."
"Not as much as I wanted to be. You did most things without me. Sometimes it felt like no one ever really needed me. I mean, I drove those boats back and forth, going right through the middle of towns and cities and no one even noticed us going by. It was like I was invisible or something. Hundreds of cities and no one ever cared. What difference did it make? Hell, I could have done more for you if I had stayed home and sold cars."
These were the hard conversations. Honestly, his failing memory sometimes made things easier because he didn’t carry all of these regrets around with him. No matter how much reassurance she gave, it didn’t take his pain away. He did miss a lot of birthdays, and holidays, and plays and concerts. But Emily always realized that was just a part of the deal. Would she have rather had him there? Of course. But there was a good side to it as well. When he was home from the boat, he was completely home for thirty days, and sometimes more. There was no nine-to-five schedule, so sometimes when he came home, they just loaded up the camper and took off, coming back home in time for him to catch the next boat. Those were magic times and almost made up for all the rest of it.
"You know dad, I was thinking last night and remembering that trip we took to Cape Hatteras. Remember that?"
"Yeah, that was a good trip. But it sure has changed a lot. I was out there last week and couldn't even find that little campground we stayed in."
And that quickly, he was gone. The conversation turned to how hard it was to find a good pizza place anywhere near the hotel there in Chicago before he told her he needed to go take Duke out for a walk. Emily thought about Duke, the Labrador Retriever they had back around 1975, and as he hung up, she told him she hoped they had a great walk.
As she put her phone back on the table, an agent discovered a third container from the Grammercy Bridge device, about a hundred yards up the side of the levee, and Frank watched the city lights of Baton Rouge go by as the I-10 bridge moved silently over his head.
Chapter 32
"Emily, it’s Lennie. Sorry to call so early, but we need you at a meeting. How quick can you get back to the river?"
She looked at her phone. Her dad's call ended just after three, and now the numbers looked something like a four.
"Uh, I can be there in, um, about an hour; I really need a shower."
"Make it 45 minutes. You can jump in the river if you need it that bad."
"You're a funny man this early in the morning."
He didn't laugh.
"See you in forty-five," and the line goes dead.
Thirty-seven minutes later Emily got out of her car at the staging area. Lennie was standing outside a van that hadn't been there earlier, along with a half-dozen other trucks and trailers that had brought a hundred new people to play.
"Em, thanks for rushing it." Lennie risked the "Em" part, and she let it slide.
"You need to know that there's probably going to be some noise to pull you from the case. I mean, with your, uh, with, you know...Elliot."
"Yeah, we'll see about..."
"But we need you here right now. And I'll do my best to keep you here if that's what you want. If you think you can handle it?"
"Thanks, Lennie. I'm fine."
The van was an incident response command vehicle, filled with technology, lots of people, and a full-size conference room. Lennie and Emily took the two empty chairs as she looked around at the others. Since the FBI currently controlled the investigation, Lennie did the brief introductions. Emily recognized the two NRC agents from earlier and heard names of the new people from the NRC, Homeland Security, the New Orleans District of the Corps of Engineers, the Louisiana Department of Transportation (LaDOT), and several local law enforcement and emergency response agencies.
"I need to introduce one other person who is still on his way here."
Emily hadn't noticed the speaker in the center of the table.
"Agent Arturo Dasilva is on his way from D.C. and will be assuming command of the FBI side of the activity."
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Dasilva said through the speaker. “Agent Ryan will brief you on the basics of what we're dealing with, recognizing that we have already lost four very good people here."
Agent Dasilva mentioned the names of those lost, and brief words of support were spoken around the circle.
Now Emily understood Lennie's comment about being pushed from the case. She didn’t know Dasilva well, but remembered him from previous meetings and knew that he was one of those agents who likes the book, and had a way of getting what he wants. That's how he got to D.C. in the first place. Lennie seemed to know where her mind was going and his elbow brought her back to the table.
"I arrive in New Orleans at eight o'clock," Dasilva said, "and will be coming directly to the staging area. We will have a full briefing meeting at nine o'clock sharp. I expect to have more details before I get there. Now let's get to work."
Lennie opened the laptop in front of him.
"But before I go,” Dasilva said, “did I hear Agents Goodwin, Renshaw and Graham being introduced?"
"Yes sir, they are here."
"I want to say how sorry I was to hear of the loss of members of your teams. That is something we absolutely want to avoid, and something that we will not lose sight of as we move forward. However, I will remind you that policies are very clear at this point. We will make every effort to keep you informed about progress in this situation, but you need to have the time to deal with the personal impact of what has happened. With that in mind, you are formally relieved from any further involvement in this situation as of now. Again, we appreciate the work you have done thus far. Thank you."
They heard Dasilva disconnect from the line.
Lennie stared at the laptop screen. Others in the circle glanced around the group with a mix of understanding, surprise, concern, while Agents Goodwin, Renshaw and Graham looked at each other knowing that their involvement in this situation had not changed. They stayed in their seats as Lennie began the summary.
After reviewing the basics of what had taken place over the past eighteen hours, Lennie began cutting new ground.
"The NRC has an update for us on the radiation risk. Agent Goodwin, fill us in."
"Thank you. Fortunately, our current analysis supports the survey conducted immediately following the explosion. There were multiple containers inside the device that hold the radioactive materials. However, it appears that the containers were not damaged in the blast, and there is no evidence of any release of radiation."
Nods and relief all around the table.
"At least three of those canisters have been located, and based on their size, and the size of the device itself, we believe there may be two or three additional containers still missing. But again, there is no sign that any of those containers have dispersed any radiation. "
Lennie attempted a smile, "Thank you, Agent Goodwin; we can use some good news like that this morning."
"Do we know why the containers did not disperse the materials?" A local law enforcement member asked. "They aren't on some kind of delay or something, are they?"
Lennie nodded to Goodwin to respond, "No, we believe it’s because the device was damaged when it landed on the barge. Devices like this are usually designed to direct the force of a detonation in a very specific way, creating enough force to shatter the canisters and disperse their contents. We believe the damage reduced the direct force of the explosion and ended up just scattering the canisters rather than shattering them."
Everyone seemed satisfied, so Lennie continued.
"Ok, as
Agent Goodwin said, the first report from the technical team is in agreement with the conclusions of the NRC agents last night. This was not a simple device and would have required several people with some very specific skills in some highly-sophisticated areas. A behavioral investigation team is preparing profiles of the types of individuals who might be involved, and where they might come from. We hope to have an initial report from them by midday."
The behavioral teams were made up of a mix of psychologists, sociologists and others who had some unique understanding of human thinking and behavior. Rather than focusing on the device, they asked questions like:
What might someone be trying to do with a device like this? What kind of person might think like that? What kind of person had the ability to create this? Where might that kind of person spend their time? Who might that person associate with? Where might that person be right now, and where might they be going? Might that person be sane and just angry, meaning we might be able to use reasoning with them, or might that person be someone well beyond reason?
It was part science, part intuition, part hunch, and involved a lot of ‘mights.' But this type of behavioral analysis had repeatedly proved to be an invaluable asset in cases like the Unabomber.
Lennie continued, "The behavioral team also agrees with the idea that there may be other devices involved. They rank the possibility of other devices at a ninety percent level."
There were mumbles and shaking heads around the table as Goodwin joined in.
"Last night we made the decision to not attempt to search other bridges for devices at that time, but, based on this information, we are going ahead and taking that step. The plan is to use fully passive search methods, which is how we accidentally found the first device. It may be that we only found it because of the leaks from the damage, but we believe it is worth the attempt. We currently have NRC boats in route to the Hale Boggs Bridge, downriver from here, as well upriver to the Sunshine Bridge. We should have reports from them by the nine o'clock meeting."
"Do they actually believe someone was able to transport these devices across that much territory?" The question was from the Department of Transportation. "We have radiation sensors at multiple locations throughout the city and metropolitan area. I think it’s quite a stretch to think..."
Lennie smiled politely, recognizing the possibility of bruising the ego of a powerful organization. "We don't know what to believe yet. We found the first device because it was damaged. Otherwise, the NRC sensors would most likely have passed right over it. It is possible we are dealing with people who have designed something far better than our current technology is prepared for. At this point, we need to see what we can learn."
"I have a question, if I may." One of the local law enforcement officers raised a hand.
"Certainly."
"We are getting pressured to release something to the media. The explosion last night, the evacuation, and now this massive response, do we have information to release at this point to kind of soothe the hounds? Can we tell them that a device was found, but that there doesn't appear to be any real danger at this point?"
Everyone smiled at the image of the hounds.
"No. There is to be no mention of a device. That will just spark more questions. Trust me; we've been down this path before."
"We need to say something, don't we?"
"Yes. For now, we are saying that there was an incident in the river near the Grammercy Bridge that was fully limited to that area. There was no damage to the bridge and no damage to anything around the bridge. The river will remain temporarily closed while the channel is rebuilt, and to avoid congestion so the work can be completed more quickly the immediate neighborhood will remain under mandatory evacuation. That won't satisfy them for long but should hold them until we know more. Does everyone understand?"
As the group talked among themselves, Emily glanced at Lennie. Sometimes she forgot how capable he was in tough situations. When you spend so much time doing the mundane stuff, you can forget just who everyone really is.
"Alright then, I think that covers it for now. I'd like everyone to prepare an update from your teams for the next meeting. I'll see all of you back here at nine o'clock."
Emily gave him a grin as she stood up, "Yes you most certainly will."
Chapter 33
Frank had become used to taking abuse for his morning cup of tea. Everyone else drank the strong dark coffee from the never-empty pot, as he put green tea leaves and honey into the fresh hot water. Some in the galley were, like him, getting off shift and heading for bed, while others were going to work. Every morning he sat with his cup, talking and taking abuse, until he was the last one in the galley, finishing a few more sips before heading to his cabin.
He stared at the leaves in the bottom of the cup and wondered what they might be saying about him this morning. The door opened, and the leader walked in with the doctor and Lawrence; the guy who designed the devices.
"But why didn't it disperse as it was supposed to? That's what I need to know. Oh, hello Frank, finished with your watch?"
Frank looked up, nodded, and returned to his tea, as the leader continued.
"Frank, we were just discussing something you might be interested in. We just learned that one of our devices was detonated late last night; the one that landed on the barge at Grammercy Bridge."
Frank looked up from his tea.
"And unfortunately, it appears that four people were killed, which as you know is not at all what we wanted to happen."
If Frank was supposed to offer a comment, he didn’t.
"But it also appears that the device did not work as planned, and did not disperse the materials inside. Since that is the entire point of the devices, we need to figure out why."
The leader looked at the doctor and his helper. Lawrence was the one to speak.
"I believe I can answer your question. The message we received said the canister had been damaged when it landed on the barge."
"But they said there was just a small crack." The leader shook his head.
"Yes, but even a small crack might do it. The explosion has to focus enough force in one direction to fracture the individual containers inside, to release the materials. That requires a specific form, and if that form is altered, the force is reduced. It is not a simple design, and that doesn't even include the need for the heat reduction..."
"Never mind about that now Lawrence," the doctor interrupted, "that has no impact on our question here...it is not important now."
"What about heat reduction?" the leader asked.
"Nothing to deal with at this point, I assure you." the doctor said. "We don't want things melting before they are able to do what they need to do; that is all. But I believe Lawrence is correct in his analysis, and we have nothing to be concerned about with the other devices."
The leader looked at the two men, as the doctor continued.
"If there is nothing else, I need Lawrence to help me in the workroom."
The leader nodded and turned to Frank.
"Frank, you look pensive this morning."
Frank stared into his cup.
"Did you have a good watch?"
Silence. The leader stood by the open door.
"Things are moving ahead on our end. We passed the Audubon Bridge a while ago, but of course, you know that."
Silence. The leader looked out the door.
"I see we're just passing the old St. Francisville Ferry landing. They shut that down a few years ago when they opened the bridge. Maybe after we complete our mission, they'll have to rebuild that old dock and start using those old ferries again."
Silence.
"Probably not here, though, its too close to the bridge. Maybe down closer to Baton Rouge. I guess we'll see. But wherever they put it, things are going to move a lot slower than they do now. That will shake things up pretty good, don't you think?"
Silence.
Frank got up from his seat, walked to the small kitche
n to rinse his cup and put it on the shelf.
"Frank, I'm trying to be polite here."
Frank walked across the galley to the door and turned to the leader.
"You son of a bitch."
"Frank, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"I'll tell you what's wrong with me. I've had it with your crap, and I've had it with this fucking mission of yours."
"Frank, you need to calm down."
"Calm down? Fuck your calming down! You promised me that no one was going to get hurt. You fucking lied to me. This whole thing is one big fucking lie. You used me."
"Frank, no one is using you. And I didn't lie to you. I told you that we didn't want anyone to be hurt and I meant it. Nothing has changed since we first talked."
"Four people are dead. And what about Danny?"
"Ah, I see. Yes, Danny."
"Yeah, Danny. What about him? That wasn't part of the deal."
"Frank, what you don't realize is that Danny was part of the team, just like us."
Frank's eyes narrowed.
"Frank, what did you know about Danny?"
"Well, not too much, this was his first trip with us. He didn't talk much, but he was one hell of a worker. Too good to waste like that. That boy had a future on the boats."
"Frank, he was more of a worker than you know. Danny is a tragic story, but not for the reasons you are thinking of. He was a wonderful young man; an eagle scout, great athlete, the kind of kid who would do anything to help anyone. His plan was to go into medicine; maybe become a doctor. That's what led him to the military, and what got him into special services and that stretch in Iraq. He spent his time taking care of people in the hot zones; treating chemical and radiation victims. And that's where things went bad."
The leader's eyes moved to the open door.
"After getting out, and after the leukemia had started up, he went to the VA for help. Just like Susan found, they ran him around in circles until it was too late to do anything at all. He went back to school, more to keep busy than anything else, and that's where he met Susan; our Susan. Unfortunately, his illness progressed a lot faster than hers, and it became more difficult for him to continue at school. One day they were talking, and he told her he wanted to commit suicide and end the pain, but it felt too much like giving up; like losing. That's when she introduced him to the doctor. It was clear there was nothing that could be done to cure him, so they came up with a way that he could end his pain, and do something meaningful at the same time. The young man had no future on the boats, or anywhere else for that matter."
Disruption: A River Of Secrets And Betrayal Page 9