Crescent City Chronicles (Books 1-3)

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Crescent City Chronicles (Books 1-3) Page 73

by Judith Lucci


  Jack thought for a minute and said, "Yahwa, or Amir, had the virus. No question. He died from the same strain we're treating over at CCMC. He was strangled and the syringe shoved into his chest."

  Bodine shook head in disgust. “These terrorists are mean sons of bitches. They think nothing of killing their own. No matter what the skill level and degree of training,” he added.

  Houser shook his head. "What the hell does this mean? Why strangle your own man, especially if he was almost dead anyway? This is screwed up." He looked around the room, "What do you guys think?"

  Stoner shrugged his shoulders. "We'll probably never know. Jack, do you have a theory? But remember, gentlemen, these men don't have the respect for human life we do. No question about that."

  Jack was amazed at how calm Stoner was under stress. He didn't appear tired, was totally calm, and in control. His clothes were pressed and he looked impeccable. Jack looked like he still had on yesterday's shirt and pants, but he didn’t. He’d showered and shaved earlier in his office. The other men either looked tired or had stress lines all over their faces. And, the President hadn't even gotten to town yet. It was gonna be a long two days.

  Jack paused for a moment and then nodded in agreement, "You got that right Stoner. These bastards are savages. Sicko mothers. But yeah, I'm working on a theory. I'm thinking that maybe the terrorists were afraid he would become incoherent and babble or that he'd check himself into the hospital and get better. At any rate, they didn't need him anymore. Whatever the deal, the bastards didn't trust him anymore so they killed him."

  Jeff Bodine contemplated Jack's assessment and added, "Yeah, it could be that. At any rate, he was no longer useful to them and he was sick, so they offed him."

  "Okay, but what's the message with the syringe sticking out of his chest? That has to have some sort of meaning. What's the deal with that?” The question came from John Houser. “Why the hell would they stick a full syringe of the virus in a chest wound? That's pretty sick, wouldn't you agree?" Houser's face displayed his contempt for the actions of the terrorists.

  "Yeah, as I said, a bunch of sick bastards. This is just another power play. I think they were showing us they were in charge, in charge of the virus and in charge of the city, and they would do anything, even kill their own to bring us down. At least, that's what Ms. Destephano and I believe." Jack reported and gave a tight half smile to the group.

  Ted was reflective for a moment and added, "You're onto something, Jack. Have you reported what happened at the hospital early this morning, before we discovered the body downtown?"

  "Thanks, Commissioner. I have not." Jack almost looked apologetic, or as apologetic as Jack ever looked, as he faced his colleagues around the table. "Sometime early this morning, most likely between two and three a.m., one of the terrorists managed to get through the police barricades, NOPD, National Guard, and FBI agents, got his/her hands on the virus, and contaminated every sterile supply kit in the operating room, surgical floors, and radiology with the virus. They were able to move through the hospital without detection or even raise any suspicion.” Jack stopped for a breath. “These are the skill sets of the people we are working against. They are trained, and very smart."

  Bodine shook his head. "What a bitch. They are relentless bastards. We've got some clever people here. Why do you suppose they didn't contaminate all of the supplies on all the floors? You think time was a factor?"

  Jack shook his head. "Don't think there was time. Alex thinks it's because they only wanted to kill healthy people. Would make a bigger impact - killing healthy folks. Patients on medicine and in the ICU are generally critically or chronically ill. She thinks the perp only wanted to spend his time on people who are basically healthy."

  Stoner shrugged his shoulders and spoke up. "I agree. I also think they want the killings and the virus to last as long as possible. Anything else, anyone?"

  John Houser raised his hand. "Are you sure they got the virus from the hospital? Could they have brought it with them?"

  "Dr. Charmaine reported the virus in the syringe and injected into the sterile supplies was an identical match to what she is treating in the emergency department,” Stoner answered. “At least, that's what we're assuming now."

  "Either that or someone has broken into the City Morgue and raided the Medical Examiner's lab," suggested Commissioner Scott. “Is it possible that someone on the CDC team could have done this? They would have ready access.”

  Oh shit, I hadn't even considered that, Jack thought to himself, feeling like a moron. Yvette will kill me when I ask her this question but I have to. "Yeah, I suppose that could have happened but I haven't heard of anything missing or amiss in the ME’s office. I'll check it out. I’ll also check with Dr. Charmaine about her team’s potential part in this." Jack wanted to crawl under the table. He wasn't thinking well. He needed to rest and take another shower. Hot water cleared his brain and made him think better. As soon as this meeting was over, he was disappearing to his district office for a nap. It would be a long day and he'd never recovered from yesterday.

  Stoner stood and addressed the group, "Guys, we'll meet this evening. We still need to determine where POTUS will speak and that location could change several times based on the intel we receive. Currently, we're planning for the Hyatt since we know the terrorists have the plans for the Convention Center. Actually, we're operating on the assumption they have the plans for all the local hotels. I do know the first lady will not be coming to New Orleans. Her husband believes the threat is too great. See you at five this evening. Stay safe."

  As the men filed out of the conference room, Jack couldn't help but notice the desperation in their eyes. They weren't sure they were going to win this and neither was he.

  Chapter 30

  Alex was a half an hour late meeting her grandparents and she was frantic. Knowing her grandfather and his level of impatience, there was a high probability he'd rented a car and was on his way to her house. She shook her head in exasperation. Damn the traffic in New Orleans. She had texted her grandmother but had gotten no answer. As she drove through the flight arrival area, she saw no sign of her grandparents. Alex was surprised and circled around the New Orleans International airport hoping they'd be sitting outside on the bench, but they were not. Finally, she pulled into the garage adjacent to the airport, walked into the daylight, and called her grandmother's cell phone.

  "Alex, so sorry we’re late. They held the flight on the ground in Dulles because they were concerned about terror activity or a terror threat or something. Finally, they let us leave but the plane was 45 minutes late getting into New Orleans. We still have to pick up our luggage but we'll be right out as soon as we can."

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief. "That's fine, Grand. I was afraid I'd missed you. I’m right outside. Do you need me to come in and help you with luggage?"

  "Oh no, your Grandfather will arrange for a skycap. We'll be fine. Just give us a few minutes."

  "I will. I'll go and get the car out of the garage and then circle around the flight arrival area. I’m so excited to see you! I was getting worried," Alex could feel the relief pulse through her body. She'd really been freaked out when they hadn't been there. I need to get control of myself. I've got several long days ahead and I don't want to upset my grandmother, she thought as she backed her black Mercedes out of the parking space. She failed to see the tall bearded form of Syed in the corner and she also missed Habib peering at her as she slowly exited the parking ramp.

  Her grandmother was seated on a bench in the passenger pickup zone, and her grandfather, whom she had once thought larger than life itself, was talking with an enormous skycap who looked like Magic Johnson. The skycap was guarding their two Pullman suitcases. Oh my goodness, they look so old. When did this happen? How long has it been since I’ve seen them? Alex could feel tears spring into her eyes as she looked at her aging grandparents. Her Grand looked frail as she sat on a bench surrounded by her omnipresent books and knitti
ng bag.

  Alex had tried for several years to get Kathryn to use her Kindle eBook reader but Kathryn declared she would only read books where she could feel the paper and touch the cover. Upon further inspection of her grandmother’s seated figure, Alex wondered if she had lost weight. She'd been in Virginia visiting her grandparents with Robert and Jack a little less than six months ago but she could swear her grandmother looked 20 pounds lighter. Besides, Alex didn’t think her grandmother’s color looked good. Kathryn’s usually beautiful complexion was pale and wan and her vibrant blue eyes were dull and tired. I need to get Robert to check her out while they’re here. I don’t like the way she looks. Could she be sick and not telling me?

  Alex’s eyes traveled to her grandfather’s face. She could tell he was upset. The lines around his eyes were accentuated and deeper than usual. His body spoke exhaustion to her. He also appeared older and unwell and that was upsetting to her. She’d never considered the likelihood that her powerful, opinionated, and passionate grandfather could grow old or weak. As the possibility occurred to Alex that she could or would soon lose two people that meant the most to her in the world, she wiped away hot, blistering tears. In order to pull herself together and regain her composure, she circled the arrival loop at the airport one more time before pulling over to gather her grandparents.

  As Alex slid her Mercedes right in front of her grandparents, her granddad jumped up in anticipation. Her grandmother rose as well and wrapped Alex in a huge hug the moment she exited her vehicle.

  “Alexandra, you look lovely but I must say I’ve seen you look better,” her grandmother noted as she scrutinized Alex’s rust colored suit and all white silk blouse. “Of course, that russet-colored suit is spectacular for this time a year and it sets off your auburn hair beautifully.”

  “Hell, Kathryn, leave the girl alone. We just got here and I think she looks as good as ever.” Congressman Adam Patrick Lee retorted as he gave his granddaughter an enormous bear hug, held her at arm’s length, and then commented, “You do look a little tired. What the hell has been going on here in Satan’s city? Should your grandmother and I believe everything CNN, Fox, and network news are reporting?”

  Alex laughed and said, “I have no idea. What are they reporting? Wait, before you answer let’s get our luggage loaded before the NOPD throw us in the slammer for loitering with airport security as their witness.” Alex motioned for the skycap to load their bags.

  Once the three were comfortably settled in Alex's car and on their way to uptown New Orleans, Adam began his news report.

  “CNN has reported more than 10 deaths from an unknown virus that for some reason the best minds at the CDC cannot identify. They have also suggested the virus may be part of a terrorist plot against the city and our country. Fox news is reporting that the terrorist plot is aimed at destroying as many American politicians as possible as well as many of the citizens of New Orleans. Both networks say that security is tight. What do you think?”

  Alex held her grandfather’s eyes in the rearview mirror and replied, “I’d say that’s pretty accurate, for once. Humph, pretty impressive actually. I wish I could say it was different, but unfortunately, it’s not. Actually, it’s a little worse. What is you intel telling you, Adam?”

  “The exact same thing,” Adam snapped.

  “Oh, no, my God, Alex! What else is going on? Isn’t this enough?” her grandmother lamented. “When this is over would you please consider a move somewhere else, hopefully closer to Virginia? I do worry about your living here,” her grandmother bemoaned, touching her beloved granddaughter’s knee tenderly.

  That sentence said a million things to Alex about the state of her grandmother’s mind. Never had Kathryn interfered in her personal or professional life. Kathryn had always encouraged her to take control of her destiny. Alex knew that her grandmother had given up her professional life as a Washington D.C. lawyer to be a congressional wife to Adam. Oftentimes, Alex believed her grandmother wondered about the life she had given up and possibly had regretted her decision. The fact that she was asking Alex to move closer to Virginia reinforced that worry and the same gut feeling that Alex experienced earlier, and she knew she would need to explore these issues with her grandmother over the coming days. She made a mental note to mention it to Robert who knew her grandmother and her grandmother’s support for ‘all things Alex’.

  “Come on Alex; tell us what’s going on. What the hell else has happened in this heathen city?” her grandfather questioned impatiently from the back seat. “Spit it out so we can figure it out.”

  “Keep your pants on, Granddad. I’m gonna tell you. But you’ve got to promise to pipe down.” Alex saw a bright smile cross her grandmother’s face. That lifted her spirits a bit.

  She continued, “First of all, someone crossed through the NOPD barricades, the National Guard, and the Louisiana State Police defenses at CCMC last night and managed to inject all of our sterile supplies with the virus throughout most of the hospital. Secondly, sometime last night someone burglarized my house looking for God knows what, and escaped through the French door in the living room.”

  Alex thought Adam was going to jump through the roof. She heard his quick intake of breath and could feel the heat of his rage in the front seat. She wished she hadn’t told him. It was only an instant before the barrage of words assaulted her. She felt her grandmother stiffen beside her in anticipation of the angry volley of words.

  “What the hell, did you just say someone broke into your house? What the hell for? What do you have that a terrorist might want?” Her grandfather's voice was angry, and his face was suffused with blood.

  “I’m clueless. Jack thinks they were looking for a diagram of the hospital or something. This occurred before they broke into CCMC. Anyway, it was fine and nothing happened. Nobody was hurt or anything. I wish I hadn’t told you now. You’ve got to stop getting so upset,” Alex chided her grandfather.

  After a moment of silence, her grandfather began again, “What the devil is happening? What does Jack think?”

  Alex shook her head. “What we think changes minute by minute. That’s most of it, at least, that’s all I know now. I’ve met Travis Stoner from the Secret Service and he seemed to have everything under control. They’re bringing in multiple resources. The FBI is bringing in specially trained hazard teams. Secret Service hasn’t decided where the President will speak for security reasons. Guess we will know tomorrow. I did hear the first lady isn’t coming.”

  “I would hope not,” Adam growled. “Damn city is under siege and you got the leader of the free world and half of the politicians in the same place. This is perfect for a terror attack, and plus, you have a ruthless killer running all over town killing good people ... good people and good politicians. This is a match in heaven for Red Jihad.”

  Alex almost ran the car off the interstate. “You know about Red Jihad? That’s who they think is behind this. The Red Jihad!”

  “Red Jihad? Of course, I know about Red Jihad," her grandfather scoffed at her. "I have been watching these MFers grow their organizations for 40 years. Yeah, I know all about them. Most of the activity is coming out of Chechnya and those bastards, the Chechen insurgents, hate Mother Russia as much as the West." Adam was silent for a moment and added, "These SOBs kill people over there all the time. Defenseless women and children, on the trains, on the subways. They’re a bunch of ruthless bastards. I probably know as much about them as anyone else in the United States.”

  As Alex drove her car into the double garage, she wondered what else her grandfather knew. She knew that he had grave concerns over the Middle East and had worked for years to pass sanctions against rogue countries. He had been all over the Clinton Administration prior to 9/11 for disregarding critical intelligence. Of course, he was also well connected with the NSA and the National Security Council, and he was a member of the Congressional Committees on Intelligence, Homeland Security, and Governmental Affairs. She’d never really put all of thi
s together before. In addition, he was a darling on the military. Well, there you have it. My grandfather is a major player in our national defense and I never even thought about it. I wonder what else he does that I don’t know about.

  Alex continued to think about the national security intelligence power wielded by her grandfather. She helped her grandmother out of the front seat and said, “Okay you two, let’s go in for some sweet tea.” She turned to her grandfather and said, “Martin is picking you up in about 30 minutes and taking you to the Hotel Burgundy to get Beth. I’ll have him bring in your luggage. After I get Grand settled, I’m gonna go into the hospital for a few hours and I will be home late this afternoon”

  Her grandparents nodded in understanding as they entered Alex’s house through the breezeway that connected the garage to the house. As planned, Martin arrived and whisked her grandfather downtown.

  Chapter 31

  Adam Patrick Lee was pissed, and when Congressman Lee was pissed, he didn’t always use his best judgment. When thinking clearly, one of Adam’s Lee best bits of wisdom was to remind people they couldn’t take words back and stick them in your mouth. Now, he was way past good judgment. He’d been concerned when he had seen the strain and fatigue on Alex’s face as she told them about what been happening at the hospital. His concern had turned to fury when he learned that someone, most likely the person who was instrumental in the attack against the city, had broken into Alex's home.

  How dare these Jihad sons of bitches come to America and assume they could destroy our nation, way of life and take over our cities. He’d show those bastards. He would use every smidgeon of power he had to lobby for and pass tougher and tougher sanctions against the problematic Middle Eastern countries. Besides, this whole thing with the Red Jihad had really got him thinking. He’d not been surprised when he learned the Red Jihad was responsible for the Boston Bombings. Damn Russians. In his mind, the KGB had never gone away. It had merely gone into hiding until once again they would emerge with a force far greater than their resources during the Cold War.

 

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