There was a another long silence, punctuated by the squeak of unoiled hinges. “Come in.”
The scientist pulled the door open and entered a darkened living room. The rectangular space smelled as if ten-thousand cigarettes had been smoked inside it over the years. There were windows. But because the blinds were nearly closed all Devlin could see were thin horizontal slices of the outside world.
The interior was furnished. But outside of the purse and laptop computer which sat on the kitchen table there were no personal items to be seen. Just some mismatched chairs, the cracked mirror that hung over the couch, and wall-to-wall shag carpeting.
The woman who waited to greet Devlin looked out of place. Catherine Harris was tall, willowy, and almost regal in her bearing. She had shoulder length brown hair, penetrating eyes, and a long straight nose. And judging from the quality of her clothes Harris had money. So why the message? And why was the otherwise upscale matron living in a run-down trailer park?
Harris manufactured a wan smile and extended her hand. It was thin but strong. Like the woman herself. “I’m sorry about the delay in letting you in,” she said apologetically. “But I don’t know who to trust! I used to be able to get some information from the Le maudit web site but they closed it down. So I sent a message to Professor McCracken. Of all the people who posted comments on the message board he came across as the most knowledgeable.”
“‘They closed it down?’” Devlin wanted to know. “Who are you referring to?”
Harris was pretty in a severe sort of way, but when she frowned, it made her look like a stern school marm. “No offense, but the answer to your question is glaringly obvious. The word ‘they,’ refers to the government, Ms. Devlin. The government.”
Devlin remembered the way Agent Cooper had let himself into her house and no doubt searched it without a warrant. Perhaps she was naïve, Harris was paranoid, or both. “I’m sorry,” Devlin replied. “Like Professor McCracken, I’m a parasitologist. So I was able to solve the scientific part of the puzzle fairly quickly.
“In fact, I was present at the autopsy where the mass located between the professor’s shoulder blades was revealed. But I’m not sure I follow you where the government is concerned. Don’t we need their help?”
The other woman’s face seemed to soften slightly as she gestured toward the kitchen table and lowered herself onto one of two white plastic chairs. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I guess I might have said something similar. Back before Alita’s operation and everything that followed.”
Devlin took the chair across from Harris. “Alita? Is that your daughter’s name?”
Harris nodded and reached for her purse. Though no expert on such matters, Devlin could tell it was expensive, and therefore beyond her means. Or had been until very recently. “Here,” the other woman said, as she removed a photo wallet from the bag. “These pictures were taken prior to the surgery.”
There wasn’t much light on the surface of the Formica covered table. But what there was came from a copper colored disk-lamp that dangled from a long cord. Devlin held the photos below the fixture and examined each one. What she saw was a young girl of seven or eight with dark hair and bright smile.
There were various poses, in various settings, all of which showed the same thing: A little girl with a severe kyphosis. The question was why? Was the disfigurement the result of a hereditary degenerative bone disease? Or had an alien parasite taken up residence between her shoulder blades?
Harris told the story without being asked. “Alita is from Ecuador. She was living in an orphanage there. Once the hump appeared the church group that supports the orphanage set about trying to find a sponsor or sponsors who would pay Alita’s way to Texas. A group of Doctors had agreed to perform the necessary operation for free.
“My husband and I are childless, and when we saw those pictures, we fell in love. I went down to get Alita, and when we landed in Dallas, my husband Larry was there waiting for us. The surgery was scheduled to take place three weeks later.”
Harris paused at that point as if gathering her strength before launching into the next chapter of the tale. “Based on the knowledge you already have you can guess what happened next. Rather than the tumor that they expected to find, the surgeons stumbled across a living organism, the likes of which none of them had ever seen before! They were afraid to remove the mass, given the extent to which the parasite had already integrated itself with Alita’s nervous system, so they took biopsies, and stitched her up.
“A team of ten government agents and physicians arrived four days later, packed everything up, and were about to take Alita away when I arrived. They wanted me to butt out, to forget the whole incident, but Larry’s a state prosecutor! So once I got him on the phone—the tone began to change.
“Finally, after considerable negotiation, Alita and I were taken into something similar to the Federal Witness Protection Program, while government doctors continued to study Alita’s condition. They promised to operate. To remove the parasite. But after a couple of weeks passed I knew they were lying to me. I could leave—but without Alita.”
“Lying to you?” Devlin echoed sympathetically. “Why?”
“Because,” Harris replied, her anger clear to see. “They wanted to let the infection run its course. To learn more about the parasite and ultimately breed more of them!”
The scientist was dumbfounded. “You’ve got to be kidding! Breed more of them? Why on Earth would they want to do that?”
“They never told me,” Harris replied darkly. “But I can guess…. What if the parasites could be altered? Bioengineered to be more responsive? What if the government could arrange for a particular person, or a group of people, to be infected with the new strain? You can see the possibilities.”
“And who knows?” Harris continued bitterly. “Maybe I would approve, or at least acquiesce, if it wasn’t Alita…. But I’ll be damned if they will be allowed to experiment on my little girl! That’s why I took Alita and ran…. The government has been hunting for us ever since. But they can trace credit cards, I’m running out of cash, and Alita is getting steadily worse. She’s taking a nap right now—but that's rare. She’s been irritable lately, somewhat irrational, and increasingly hard to control. What she needs is an operation to remove that thing—but where would I get that? Which is why I took a chance and sent the email. But, given Professor McCracken’s death, I guess that possibility no longer exists.”
Devlin was in the process of reaching out to take one of the other woman’s cold hands in hers when a dog barked outside. Harris was on her feet in an instant. She crossed the room in three quick strides and bent over to peer out through the blinds. “Why you rotten bitch! You led them here! And stalled me so they could sneak up on us!”
Devlin was at the window by that time and taken aback by what she saw. What looked like a medic unit was parked behind the Mustang. Two black Crown Victorias had pulled in behind that. And a group of what Devlin assumed to be government agents were struggling to deal with the pit bull. The dog had its teeth locked onto a meaty calf and refused to let go.
“That’s not true,” Devlin said desperately as she looked up. “I didn’t know!” The back-handed blow caught her by surprise. She staggered, lost her balance, and fell. When Devlin heard three muffled gunshots it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the pit bull had been killed.
She was struggling to get up when she saw Harris remove something shiny from her handbag and knew it was a gun. Was the matron planning to shoot her?
No, the fugitive had already turned away by then. Her shoes made a hard rapping sound as she left the kitchen and disappeared into a hallway. Harris was already pulling the bedroom door open when Devlin shouted, “No!”
But it was too late by then. Seconds after Harris disappeared two additional shots were heard. Then, after a slight pause there was a third pop, closely followed by an audible thump. Before Devlin could react the door slammed open and Agent Cooper burst
through the entryway followed by a group of combat-ready men.
The scientist was forced to lay face-down on the soiled carpet at that point. Then she heard a male voice say, “God damn it to hell!” and knew that both Alita and Catherine Harris had escaped. Not from the trailer. But from the physical world.
Devlin felt a hand grab hold of her collar as Cooper jerked her up onto her feet. Then, having spun her around, his face was so close to hers that the scientist could smell the cigarettes on his breath. “Goddamn it, Doctor…. I told you to keep the next one alive.” And that was the moment when Devlin knew everything Catherine Harris had told her was true.
***
Bremerton, Washington
The twin autopsies had been conducted at the naval hospital in Bremerton. Partly because it was relatively close to Shelton. And partly because the military complex could be secured in ways that civilian facilities couldn’t be. Previously scheduled operations had been canceled. All of the operating rooms had been sealed off in accordance with the provisions of the pre-established ERPT (extreme risk pathogens and toxins) plan. Navy SEALs were stationed throughout the area.
Meanwhile, in operating room two, the specially convened XT team was busy closing the incision on the little girl’s back. Though not a member of the medical team Dr. Wilson had primary responsibility for the investigation and stood a few feet away. Wilson had seen quite a few dead bodies over the years. And prided himself on his professionalism. But there was something moving about the two that were laid out on neighboring tables.
The little girl named Alita lay face down, so that a navy doctor could sew up the wound from which the alien parasite had so recently been removed. Meanwhile the woman who had given her life in an effort to protect the youngster lay only a few feet away. Her eyes stared sightlessly up into the bright lights, and her once shapely body had been disfigured by the long Y-shaped incision which extended all the way down to her pubic area. The deaths were a damned shame—and the question was why?
According to a quick check carried out by his staff both Harris and her husband were solid citizens. Neither of them had demonstrated the least bit of instability, until recently that is, when Alita Sanchez entered their lives.
So now in the wake of the murder-suicide, and the interview he had conducted with Dr. Sara Devlin, Wilson had grown increasingly suspicious. Because, according to Devlin, both Harris and the child had been in a witness protection program prior to the day they went AWOL. And that raised an important question. The Department of Biosecurity didn’t have a witness protection program. So, who had been protecting them? Or holding them? And, why?
Those questions were foremost on Wilson’s mind as he thanked the operating room staff, stripped off his scrubs, and left the surgery. He was tired, not having slept in about nineteen hours, and determined to get some answers.
The meeting room was one floor up and halfway down a long highly polished hallway. The walls were decorated with photos of hospital ships past and present. And having once served in the navy himself Wilson would have paused to look at them had there been sufficient time.
The door was ajar so Wilson pushed it open and walked in. That was when he saw that the Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services was present in addition to George Ponty, his Chief of Field Operations.
Secretary Roster had reddish hair, light colored skin, and was forty-something. The pin striped suit looked great on her as did the red lipstick and the matching fingernail polish. She was the only person who was standing—and immediately came forward to greet him. Her eyes were green and very intense. “Good afternoon, Dr. Wilson…. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
The truth was that Wilson had only met her once before and that had been at a party. So why the surprise visit? The only answer that made sense was politics. Or some combination of strategy and politics. Wilson directed a dirty look at Ponty, who shrugged as if to say, ‘I didn't know either.’
Roster's grip was cool but firm. “Please allow me to apologize for the surprise visit. But I think you'll agree that this is a very serious matter. So much so that the president has requested regular briefings. And I plan to deliver this one myself.”
It made sense in a way—but Wilson hadn't written his report yet. So how did Roster know? He directed a nod towards Cooper. "I suppose he works for you?”
“Agent Cooper works for both of us,” Roster said smoothly. “Perhaps I should explain.”
“That would be nice,” Wilson agreed mildly.
Roster produced a well rehearsed smile. “Please allow me to apologize on behalf of the department. It’s clear that communications could have been better. As you know we, which is to say DHHS, were already working on the possibility of an XT threat before the Department of Terrestrial Biosecurity was authorized by congress. Agent Cooper was part of that effort.
“And, when Alita Sanchez entered the country, we were the only ones who understood the true nature of the problem. Later, once it was clear that the Sanchez girl was infected, we worked with the Department of Justice and the U.S. Marshal’s Service to place Catherine Harris and her charge in protective custody. The true nature of Alita's condition was withheld from all but the most senior members of those organizations in order to maintain security."
Wilson felt a rising sense of anger. “Okay... But tell me this. While in protective custody the parasite was not only allowed to live, but to grow! Why? So the ghouls at the CIA could figure out a way to replicate it?”
Roster frowned. “I must say, I don’t appreciate your characterization of the men and women who risk their lives to keep this country safe. But, yes, the essence of what you say is true. It isn’t nice, and it isn’t pretty, but that’s how the real world is. Like it or not our mission is a good deal broader than preventing a flu epidemic.
“Or perhaps you believe that we’re the only ones who know about the parasites? Well, I can assure you that other governments are aware of them too. Including the Chinese who are hard at work on this issue.”
Wilson felt something cold trickle into his veins. He was a scientist as well as a patriot. What if the Chinese were to weaponize the parasites? It was a horrible thought. “Point taken,” he said grudgingly. “So, how will you handle Dr. Devlin?”
“There are a number of ways to deal with the doctor. We could have the FBI charge her with a crime and take her off the streets. Or just leave her be. The choice is up to you.”
“We wouldn’t want her to talk to the press,” Ponty put in. “The public would go crazy.”
“So slap her with a gag order,” Cooper suggested. “That should keep her mouth shut.”
“I get the impression that you want her on the loose,” Wilson observed. “Why?”
Cooper smiled. “Because this Devlin person has a talent for nosing around. Plus there’s no way to know what, if anything, she’s holding back. So, if it were up to me, I’d let her run.”
“And follow her,” Ponty added grimly.
“Yes,” Roster agreed thoughtfully. “I think that’s an excellent suggestion.”
Chapter Eight
Shelton, Washington
It was pouring, and the rain thundered against the roof of the car as Cooper guided the black Crown Vic into the Shangri La trailer park, and through a large puddle. The wheels threw up waves of water which surged away to break against the nearest curb. Devlin was seated in the back. During the last forty-eight hours she had been detained and interrogated by almost a dozen government officials before finally being released. Had the process been legal? She wasn’t sure. But she wanted the government to respond to the parasite threat and was willing to help. Fortunately Dr. Wilson seemed to share her anger regarding the way Alita's case had been handled. And that had a great deal to do with her cooperation.
The red Mustang was right where Devlin had left it. And no wonder since the area around the trailer had been under guard by federal agents until an hour earlier. Cooper pulled in behind the Ford and put the
transmission in park. The wipers slapped back and forth in a futile attempt to keep the windshield clear. “Here,” Cooper said, as he turned to hand Devlin her purse. “Your keys are inside.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically. “Did you have fun going through it?”
“No,” Cooper said without any trace of embarrassment. “It was pretty boring.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to spice it up next time. Can I go now?”
“Not until I give you this,” Cooper said, and passed an envelope back over the seat.
“What is it?” Devlin demanded suspiciously, as she examined the envelope.
“A gag order,” Cooper answered matter of factly. “If you speak with the press, start a blog focused on alien parasites, or open the First Church of Parasitology people will come and take you away.”
“Don’t worry,” Devlin said, as she stuffed the envelope into a pocket. “I won’t tell anyone what an asshole you are.”
***
Devlin opened the door and got out. Cooper watched her get into the Mustang and drive away. Then he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag before opening the hard sided briefcase that rested on the seat next to him. He pushed a button and watched as the color screen came to life. It wasn’t his responsibility to follow the parasitologist thank God. But the tiny GPS enabled devices hidden in Devlin’s handbag and both of her vehicles would make the job a lot easier for those who had been given the task.
Cooper watched the blue delta zigzag its way through the city of Shelton and turn onto the main highway. Then, having assured himself that the equipment was functioning properly, Cooper drove away. Curtains swayed and blinds closed as the watchers turned away from their windows. Shangri La was at peace.
***
It was late afternoon by the time Devlin arrived home. Having put the car in the garage, she was on the front porch, fumbling for her keys, when she saw that an envelope stuck in the door jam. Her name was scrawled on the outside, but she didn’t recognize the handwriting, and therefore had no idea who the message was from until she opened it.
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