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Disruption: A River Of Secrets And Betrayal

Page 14

by J. B. Jamison


  "I'm glad you are able to join us," was what Dasilva was beginning to say, but Emily spoke first, "I apologize for the delay everyone, but I believe we have just obtained information you will all want to hear. I have asked Commander Reyes to join us to explain."

  She and Nichols found their seats and Emily pulled a chair to the table for Reyes.

  "First,” Emily said, “we have our boat. Colonel Nichols can give us the details, and Commander Reyes and I will join in."

  "Thank you, Agent Graham," Nichols said. "In our last meeting, I explained that because of the work of the NRC we had been able to narrow our search window significantly. Based on that, we reduced our list to three possible targets that fit the profile we were looking for. We began looking more closely at those boats until news we just received from the ARG helped us even more. We believe our boat is the Francis B., a boat owned by Arbel Fleet Services out of Louisville. She is the type of long haul boat we are looking for, and fits our travel profile perfectly."

  "And it gets better," Emily said as she looked at Commander Reyes.

  "Yes, it does. She's hot." Reyes said.

  The room was silent enough to hear the ceiling fan running.

  "What I mean is, one of our AMS helicopters scanning the bridges was also tasked to side-scan any long haul boats it passed as it moved downriver. It passed the Francis B. just below Natchez and got a reading."

  Side conversations arose around the table, then fell to hear more.

  "They had just completed a full scan of the Natchez bridge with negative results. After hearing of the hit on the Francis B., we sent the bird back upriver to Natchez after the boat had passed there. This time, the scan was positive. In other words, there was nothing under the bridge before the boat passed, and was something there after the boat passed."

  "Son of a bitch." came from somewhere around the table.

  "So at this point," Emily continued, "we believe the Francis B. is our target. We are currently finding out as much as we can about the boat and company. And I can also tell you that we now have full confidence in the identification of Dr. Peter Shallenger as the nuclear expert, and a Lawrence Abbot, one of Shallenger's students, as the individual who designed the devices. We also are looking at a Susan Handling, another grad student, who has the experience from three rounds of in-theater Navy service in nuclear activities. We believe they may all currently be aboard the Francis B."

  Conversations continued all around the table.

  "This is good work everyone," Dasilva said. "It sounds like we are making some real progress. I was going to give an update on the media circus taking place out there, but let me just say that we seem to have things under control for the moment. With that in mind, I want to stress that this latest information regarding the boat and personnel is to remain in this room, and is not to make its way to the public yet. Is that understood?"

  Nods all around.

  "If these guys learn that we know who they are, well, we don't want to spook them into doing something drastic."

  Dasilva paused a minute.

  "For now, we need to come up with ideas for what to do about that boat. Get your teams working on it, and we'll meet again here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

  As Emily collected her things, her boss leaned over, "Em, we need to talk before you leave."

  "Agent Graham," Colonel Reyes stepped up, "we need to speak with you about one more item before you go."

  "Certainly."

  "Go ahead and take care of them, and I'll be outside when you’re finished," Lennie said as he leaves the room.

  The room was empty except for Emily, Commander Reyes and Colonel Goodwin of the NRC.

  Goodwin began, "I'm afraid there is more, and it may mean that we have even a larger problem on our hands. We thought we should speak with you about it before bringing it to the full group."

  "Ok, what's going on?" Emily asked, looking at Commander Reyes.

  "You'll remember that our Grammercy Follow-on team had located another canister from that device, and this canister appeared to be designed differently than the others."

  "There was no radiation from that canister if I recall," Emily said.

  "Correct. And the design was different from the other canisters. As it was examined further, we discovered that this canister was also constructed from a different type of material than the others."

  "Is that why the radiation was not seen?"

  "No, ma'am. There is no radiation with this canister; I'm afraid it may be worse."

  "Worse?" Emily almost laughed.

  "Yes, ma'am. This canister is built from material that is specifically used to insulate things from heat; to protect something from being destroyed by very high temperatures."

  "Like from an explosion." Agent Goodwin said.

  "Yes, like heat from an explosion."

  "And we're certain of this?" Emily asked as her eyes have narrowed, and she leaned against her chair.

  "Yes, ma'am. Ma'am, I'm afraid this device wasn't designed for radiation. This is the type of canister that is designed specifically to hold and protect materials that would be destroyed by heat; such as biologicals."

  Emily heard her heartbeat and felt it throbbing in her ears.

  "It is now our belief, ma'am, that this container contains some form of biological materials."

  "A biological weapon?"

  "Yes ma'am," Goodwin said. "we believe that is a very real possibility."

  "The canister is en route to a secure bio facility where it can be fully examined." Commander Reyes glanced at his watch. "We should know more within the hour."

  "So, you are telling me that in addition to holding several canisters of radioactive materials that can be blown all over the place, these things may also have one or more canisters that are biological weapons as well? Is that what I'm hearing?"

  "Ma'am," Reyes said, "we believe that is correct ma'am. We will update you as soon as we hear more, ma'am."

  “Ok,” Emily said. “And, by the way, let's keep this on the QT until we know exactly what we've got, ok?"

  "Yes, ma'am. No problem."

  Reyes and Goodwin left Agent Graham alone in the room, leaning against her chair, trying to follow her mind going in about eight directions at once; not one of which was a good one. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath, shook her head to clear it, and stepped out the door. Lennie was waiting.

  "What do we know about this Arbel Fleet Services company?" he asked.

  "We're looking at it now. The CEO is a Gilbert Arbel, the son of the founder. He goes by 'Gil,' and he looks clean so far. We don't think he is involved in this, at least not directly."

  "And what about the crew on the boat?"

  "We're looking there too. At some point we need to talk with someone at the company about that, probably start with Arbel himself, once we make sure he is clean."

  "Good. Let me know what you find out."

  Lennie began walking to his car. He stopped and turned back.

  "Em, how long will it take you to pack?"

  "Pack?"

  "I think you're right about needing to talk with Arbel directly. You need to get to Louisville and see if you can learn anything useful. I'll have a plane waiting for you at four o'clock. I suggest you go get a bit of sleep. But first, see what else you can find out about this Arbel guy, so we're not going in blind."

  Lennie walked to his car and drove away. Emily stood still, staring at nothing in particular.

  Chapter 45

  It was almost twelve hours between bridges at Natchez and Vicksburg, and it had been quiet since the meeting in the galley. Frank opened the pilothouse door so the fresh air could help keep him awake. It was quiet. Really quiet. Quiet enough to think about what the hell he was doing on this damn boat.

  Down South, Emily handed her bag to the man standing beside the small jet and climbed up the stairway. Lennie was already on board.

  "Good morning Agent Graham. I trust you slept well."
/>   Emily took a seat as the engines began to spool-up.

  "Well, this is a surprise. What's the matter? Didn't think I could handle it myself?"

  "No, of course not. It’s still your show. I just thought an extra pair of ears might be useful."

  They exchanged glances to show that they both understood how serious this whole thing was.

  "I'm glad you're here," Emily said. "I always enjoy having a chauffeur."

  "Yes, ma'am. Always happy to be of assistance."

  As the jet leveled off for the brief flight to Louisville, Lennie started the work conversation.

  "So, what have you found about Arbel?"

  "He looks clean. If there are people involved inside the company, I don't think he's one of them."

  "Do you think he knows what is going on?"

  "Hard to say, but I doubt it. This company is his baby. Took it over when his father died, and he's built it into one of the strongest companies in the business; small in size but with quite a reputation. I just can't see him doing something that would risk that."

  "So, if the company is that small, do you really think he doesn’t know what's going on with one of his boats?"

  "If he knows, I'm guessing he just found out and is trying to figure out what the hell to do about it; just like we are. I think it’s worth talking with him to see."

  "Ok, then. That's what..."

  The vibration reminded her that she hadn't turned off her phone. She pulled it out and saw 'Torchwood.'

  "Go ahead and take it," Lennie said. She hit the button.

  "Hello?"

  "Em, it’s dad."

  "Hi, dad, what are you doing up at this hour?"

  "I was thinking about that thing you asked me; you know, about someone sneaking stuff on to a boat?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Well, I just remembered that did happen to me one time; some asshole sneaking booze onboard, but I caught him and threw his ass off my boat. He was a sneaky bastard, but he had his wife helping him."

  "What do you mean, dad?"

  "Well, she used to get the stuff, wrap it all up in burlap sacks, and stick them on a barge tied up there at Peoria. You know there's always barges tied there below town. I never did find out how the hell she knew which barges to put the shit on. So, we'd pick up the barge and when no one was watching he'd just go out and get the stuff. But I saw him one night. I didn't say anything, but when we got to the next lock, I told him the lock master had radioed and said he had a phone call up at the lock wall. He got off the boat to answer the call, and I just kept the boat moving."

  "Oh, dad."

  "A few minutes later I got a call from the lock master saying, 'Hey captain, you left a man here.' I told him to watch real close, and he'll see the guy’s suitcase floating down that way in just a few minutes. What's that noise I hear?"

  "I'm on a plane dad."

  "A plane? What the hell are you doing on a plane? And when are you going to bring me my ice cream?"

  "I brought that last night dad, remember?"

  "Oh. Well, thanks for calling. Give me a call the next time you come to Chicago; we'll get a drink."

  She put the phone away and saw that Lennie was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed. This probably wasn’t the best time to tell him about the biological weapons issue, which was fine with her. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and saw a beautiful beach; with people carrying ice cream cones with radiation labels on them, some woman burying burlap bags in the sand, and some guy selling biological weapons. Jimmy Buffett was standing there shaking his head.

  Chapter 46

  "Red sky at morning; sailor take warning. Isn't that how it goes?" the man in the back of the boat said as he saw the orange glow rising over the trees to the East.

  The man in the front nodded his head, "I think so. I can never get that straight. It’s red sky at night, and, um,"

  "Sailor's delight."

  "Yeah. So, I guess the weather guy was right; it’s supposed to rain later."

  "For once. Ya know, that's a job I think I'd like; they can be completely wrong and still don't get fired."

  "Yeah, and you get to...shit! Watch that log! Cut er' hard left."

  The guy in back jerked the tiller to miss the big piece of driftwood, tilting the small aluminum boat almost enough for water to spill over the side. Both men leaned to balance the boat, and as it tipped back, they almost rolled it over in the other direction. "Damn. We'd better pay more attention here...is everything ok?"

  The man in front checked the bag under his seat, then opened the cooler. "Yeah, we're fine."

  "Ok, good. Keep an eye open; it’s not light enough for me to see anything yet. Hey, here comes the boat."

  The Francis B. came out of the left-hand bend about eight miles below Vicksburg. This time the fishermen were taking their materials straight to the boat since this wasn't an area where barges sat along the bank. As the Francis B. got closer, the two men forgot about sunshine and weathermen and stayed focused on the task at hand. A sixteen-foot aluminum fishing boat was no match for a five-hundred-ton towboat. The massive screws from the Francis B. churned up the water behind it enough to capsize anything that got within fifty feet. And if they ended up in the water, the suction from the props would pull them under and treat them much like two pieces of asparagus dropped into a food processor. So, as they pulled alongside, they were fully focused. Neither man relaxed until both packages were handed off and they were headed back toward the shore.

  "I hope we don't have to do that again," the man in front said.

  "Not until Memphis. And that's going to be something like two o'clock in the morning; pitch dark."

  It was quiet as the men watched the early orange sky. It stayed quiet as they loaded the boat back on the trailer and pulled it to the top of the levee.

  As the fishermen took the levee road toward Quimby, another truck pulled into a parking space at Riverview Park just north of the Vicksburg Bridge. The passenger got out, carrying what looked like a small portable television with two joysticks on it. The driver opened the truck tailgate and lifted out a radio-controlled airplane, checked the various connections, moved a few switches, and then gently tossed the plane into the air.

  "Is that a drone?" a young boy with a fishing pole asked as he walked up.

  "Yep," the driver said. "Sure is."

  "Cool! Whatcha doing with it?"

  "Just flying around a bit; doing some testing."

  The boy sat his fishing pole down and stayed to ask a few dozen questions as they watched the drone fly around.

  "Checking to see how high it will go?" the boy asked. He was an observant lad. As the Francis B. approached the bridge, the drone increased altitude until it was invisible unless you knew exactly where to look. It flew down below the bridge and followed the boat as it passed the small group in the park.

  "Yep," the driver said, "it did pretty good too, didn't it?"

  "Sure did. That was awesome!"

  There was more conversation as the men packed up the airplane until the boy remembered his fishing pole and headed down to the riverbank.

  "Did you see anything?" the driver asked.

  "Yeah, I think we got what we need." the pilot said.

  "Let's get that sent right away."

  "Just sent it. Let's go get some breakfast while we wait for orders."

  Chapter 47

  Grandpa was in his seat as Ronnie walked in the door. The old man waved him over to the table.

  "Hi grandpa, let me get a drink; do you want something?"

  "Let's wait a minute to order. Sit down, let's talk."

  Ronnie realized his caffeine fix would have to wait a few more minutes, and sat down.

  "So, what's the rush? Are you finally going to let me in on this little secret thing you've been hinting at?"

  The old man smiled, but if there was such a thing as a sad smile, this was it.

  "Not quite yet, Ronnie, I need to make sure you are really ready to take
that step."

  The younger man looked down and shook his head. "Grandpa, come on. I told you yesterday that I want to do this. I don't know what else to say?"

  "I know, I know. But what I do need you to understand right now is that if you take this step, everything begins to change. As your grandfather, I've kind of been this magical kind of person, taking you fishing and telling stories, and..."

  "Sometimes really dumb stories."

  "Yes, that's true. But listen, this is important. If you do this, that magic is going to change. Up to this point, I've been in a position to try and make your life easier; to help you work through hard times, and to, you know, just be a positive thing in your life."

  " Are you saying you won't be there for me anymore?"

  "I will still be here, but if you take this step, we will be doing things together, no longer as grandfather and grandson, but as two equals, each doing our role."

  "Ok."

  "And Ronnie, you will learn things about me that no one else knows or understands. And some of those things may be very difficult to accept at first. And you will see that sometimes I may do things that seem wrong, even cruel at times; until you come to understand why those things are done."

  "Now you're scaring me a bit."

  "That's good. That's what I'm trying to do. And just to make it even scarier, there will be times that you will have to do things that will feel wrong or cruel, and will cause you to lie awake at night thinking about them."

  "But you said my family would be safe."

  "Yes, absolutely, of course. This has nothing to do with your family. This will be about you, and the questions you will ask yourself over and over, until..."

  "Until I fully understand."

  "Exactly; which will just take some time."

  "But it’s worth it?"

  "Nothing will ever be worth more."

  "Then I'm in."

  The old man looked into his grandson's eyes. Seconds passed. It felt like one of those long moments standing at the airport gate having run out of words to say to the person leaving you, but you’re not ready to let them go climb into the plane.

 

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