by Nancy Mehl
“It could,” Alex said. “I’d also like to know about the chemist in Ethiopia. If he was working with Walker, it might help us to understand how far he was willing to go to help carry out this so-called prophecy.”
“The chemist’s name is Martin Kirabo. According to his coworkers, he was brilliant but troubled. Kept to himself a lot, but in the past few months he talked more than usual. Brought up concerns about someone getting their hands on a sample of Ebola and reengineering it into a superbug. Something that couldn’t be easily contained if released into the general population.”
“Didn’t the people he worked with find this odd?” Alex asked.
Harrison sighed deeply. “I guess these science nerds like to bounce around all kinds of theories. No one was really all that concerned. Until now. With the missing sample and the missing chemist, they’re more than a little worried. And before you ask, yes, he followed some kind of strange religion. Didn’t talk about it much, but I’m pretty sure we all know what it is.”
“Did he ever mention knowing someone in the States?” Logan asked.
“No, not really. But some of his coworkers said he would go off by himself to talk on the phone the last few months he was there.”
Harrison rubbed his forehead before going on. “Here’s what we’re concerned about. The thing Kirabo brought up more than once was how to make this strain of Ebola airborne.”
Logan’s stomach felt as if it had suddenly flipped over. “Did you say airborne?”
“Yeah, you heard me. Let’s just say that if he was able to do that, we’re looking at a virus that makes COVID-19, H1N1, and MRSA look like mild colds.”
No one spoke for several seconds.
Then Alex said, “Walker believes he’s carrying out some kind of sacred destiny. He won’t be stopped easily.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Harrison said. “These kind of perps are harder to catch because they’re usually prepared to die if they have to. They’re bold and determined.”
Logan grunted. “So now we have a virulent virus in the hands of a dangerous psychopath who has no conscience. No reason to change his mind. He intends to release this virus to the public. There’s no way to reason with him.”
“What about putting his own family in danger?” Harrison asked.
“I don’t think it would make any difference to him,” Alex said. “He places his calling above anything else.”
Logan didn’t disagree with her. She was right.
“If the guy in Ethiopia truly is with the Circle,” Alex said, “then this cult really is worldwide. Willow used to tell me it was everywhere. I didn’t believe her. I assumed it was one of her many delusions, but Jimmy Gedrose said the same thing.”
Harrison cursed and rubbed the back of his neck this time. “It took several days for the lab to realize there was a problem. Handling deadly viruses, inactive or not, should be overseen a lot better than this. It would have helped if we’d had a heads-up sooner. I’m pretty sure this lab will be shut down—at least until they can make certain it’s being run the way it should be.”
“Do we know any more about Walker?” Logan asked, trying to redirect Harrison to the information they needed.
“Not a lot more. His qualifications are perfect. Graduated at the top of his class, no arrests, no problems. The lab in Kansas City hired him without reservations. Nothing in the information he gave them raised red flags. His boss says his work was top-notch. He was a bit of a loner. Didn’t really spend time with his colleagues after work. Used to talk to some of them about his wife and kids. Seemed like a dedicated husband and father. The people he worked with figured he was committed to his family and didn’t have a need for other friends.”
“He . . . he’s married?” Alex said slowly. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Me either,” Logan said.
“Well, he lived in that small apartment near the lab, but he told coworkers his wife and kids lived somewhere else and that he went home on weekends. He just never mentioned where that was. We haven’t been able to trace it. Can’t find any cell phone records with calls or purchases he made with his credit card anywhere except in town. No property in his name. He’s a master at hiding his tracks. Detectives have been trying to find his family. Nothing so far. I’ll send you the details, and we’ll go over them when you get here, but that’s the gist of it.”
He frowned. “One of his coworkers said he hated Christianity. Once a guy mentioned he and his family were going on a church retreat. He wasn’t even talking to Walker, but Walker overheard it and went ballistic. Ranted about how he was worshiping a false God and he’d been deceived. Guess his outburst was reported to their boss, who cautioned Walker. It never happened again.”
“That’s interesting,” Alex said.
Harrison paused for a moment. “You know, this guy may have passed the virus on to someone else. We have no proof he’s still got it.”
Logan glanced at Alex, who raised her eyebrows. They were both convinced Walker had the virus. He wouldn’t let anyone else fill the role of the Destroyer.
“He’s got it,” Alex said. “Remember, he thinks he’s fulfilling a prophecy. He won’t let someone else take the glory.”
“You’re probably right, but keep an open mind. We don’t want to miss something because we jumped to conclusions. As soon as we end this call, I’ll send you everything new we have on him.”
“Where is Walker’s dad?” Logan asked.
Harrison shrugged. “Dead about ten years.”
Harrison put something into the printer next to him and clicked a button. “I’m sending you a photo of Adam Walker now. The lab where he worked finally dug it up. It’s similar to his driver’s license photo. File to follow.”
Alex opened the file that came through. A few seconds later she and Logan were staring at a young man who wasn’t bad looking. Dark hair with blue eyes. His face was plain. Nothing in his expression would make anyone think he was capable of murder. She noticed a scar on his chin. That made it easier to identify him, unless he’d taken measures to hide it.
“How can this be our guy?” Logan asked. “We were told he’s thirty-two, but he looks a lot younger. Early twenties.”
“Walker is thirty-two,” Harrison said. “But he does look younger. That might actually work in his favor. If someone saw an older man tagging a train, it would seem strange. His youngish looks make him seem like any other tagger.” He blew out a quick breath. “The KCPD is doing everything possible to try to stop him from killing again, but they just don’t have enough information to get ahead of him. Neither do we.”
“We’ve been running behind finding these bodies,” Alex said. “Number five may be waiting somewhere.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that, but the truth is we need to move faster.”
“Alex and I still need a copy of The Book, especially the part about the six sacrifices and the Destroyer.”
“I’ll send you those pages as quickly as I can, then give you a complete copy later. I need you back here as soon as possible so you can share your assessment with our team. Looks like the snow will have moved out of our area by tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Alex said. “But I have to tell you, this guy’s a little different. He confuses me some.”
“Well, that concerns me.”
“I really didn’t think he’d be married. I have to rethink a few things. Most serial killers have compulsions that can be easily understood. They hate their mothers, or they just hate women in general. Some of them are sexual sadists. Each one has his reason for what he does. It’s his signature. But this guy . . . I don’t know if the prophecy is enough. I’m still wondering about his childhood.”
Alex stood and went to the desk, then pulled out the file they’d brought with them from Quantico. “I noticed some confusion in the way the Train Man left the bodies too.” She took out some of the photos and placed them on the table in front of Logan. “Look, he lays them out str
aight with their hands folded. Usually that would mean he has some kind of concern for them. Some remorse. But he stabs them. That’s up close and personal. Shows anger.”
“This guy is complicated,” Logan said. “Like I said, I’m not sure he’s going to be easy to understand.”
Harrison opened a folder in front of him and flipped through the pages. “The people at the lab said his wife’s name is Sally. The kids are Gabby and Trey. Not sure of their ages, but he acted as if they were young. Under ten. Problem is the police can’t find them either. Neither is enrolled in school in Kansas City—Missouri or Kansas—or in any surrounding school district. They had to comb through almost one hundred Gabby or Trey possibilities. Good thing their names aren’t John or Mary.”
Logan wasn’t sure many kids were named John or Mary these days, but he understood the point. “So none of these kids led back to Adam Walker?”
“Not even close. The police were careful to check out every single parent. Nothing.” Harrison sighed. “Look. Do what you can. I realize this isn’t an actual profile since we know who we’re looking for, but I still need everything you can give me about this guy. Work it up and send it to me. We need to get it out to law enforcement right away. Like you said, the fifth sacrifice may have already been made. We’ve been finding these bodies several days after they were killed. The first body wasn’t discovered for almost a week.”
“But trains are still being watched carefully, right?” Logan asked.
“Yes. By railroad authorities and personnel and the police. But some of the trains are long, and it’s almost impossible to keep an eye on every single car.”
“If we make it too hard for him to use a regular train car, is it possible he might make a change?” Alex asked.
Harrison looked alarmed. “To what?”
“All kinds of trains are out there. At zoos, entertainment parks, even in malls.”
Harrison stared at them through the computer screen. “I don’t like the way you’re thinking, but you might be right. We can’t ask the police to leave the trains unprotected, but I guess we have to tell them to find a way to expand their efforts.”
Alex sighed. “If it’s not already too late.”
“This is one time we can’t allow Walker to stay ahead of us. We have no idea when or where he’ll release that virus.”
“He has a plan,” Alex said. “Trust me. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
“She’s right,” Logan said. “How long was this Martin . . .”
“Kirabo,” Harrison said.
“Martin Kirabo. How long was he at the lab in Ethiopia?”
“Twelve years.”
Logan glanced at Alex, whose expression made it clear she was thinking the same thing he was. “Twelve years is more than enough time to create a new virus. Something different. Ebola plus.”
“Okay, give me what you can as soon as possible,” Harrison said. “I’ll get those sections of The Book to you.” He broke the link without another word.
Logan turned to Alex. “I know we’re both exhausted, but let’s get to work.”
19
Adam checked several times to see if the police had found the fifth sacrifice. Nothing. He cursed loudly. These fools were so incompetent and slow. Would he have to lead them to it? He was itching to get on with the sixth sacrifice so he could put his next plan into action. Once it was done, he’d get Sally and the kids away from Kansas City. Far away from the destruction that would quickly spread.
He had the perfect plan to multiply the virus, and those fools would never figure it out in time. He was told it would take a while for the symptoms to show up. By the time they did, the virus would have spread all over the area, and others would be sharing it around the world. The results would be much worse than any outbreak mankind had seen.
He went to his desk and pulled on his gloves. He always wore them when he was working. Then he penned a letter to the police in block letters. When he was finished, he put it in an envelope, then sealed it and placed a stamp on it.
Adam left his office and went into the living room. Sally was reading a book, her lovely legs tucked under her as she sat on the couch.
“Going to the post office. Be back soon,” he said.
“Okay, honey.” She smiled. He leaned over and kissed her, then left the house. It would all be over shortly, and then he would have fulfilled his destiny. The Master would reward him, and Adam would live the rest of his life with the knowledge that he was one of the most important people who’d ever lived.
Logan reached over and pulled a large spiral notebook lying on the coffee table toward them, next to the remnants of the Chinese food they’d ordered in. “So what do we know now?” he asked.
Alex had just started to answer him when the fax machine they’d hauled from Quantico began spitting out pages. Logan got up and snatched them.
“They’re from Harrison,” he said. “The information about Walker and Martin Kirabo.” He gathered the papers, waiting until the fax machine fell silent. Then he brought everything over to the couch. He was worried. This virus could be incredibly deadly. Still, it would be almost impossible for it to spread the way the Train Man wanted it to. Especially since they’d had a heads-up. The CDC would have already issued a warning to hospitals and doctors in the area.
Yet Logan felt a strange uneasiness about this guy. He was smart enough to get away with these murders, leaving no evidence behind. Was he on his own? Or was someone helping him? Were the murders of Willow and Nettie connected to him? Or did the Circle really mete out punishment so severe? They didn’t have answers to these questions, but they did know Walker understood deadly viruses. Why did he think he had something so lethal that unleashing it would kill millions of people? Could this really be a mutated form of Ebola?
“We need to know more about these men,” Alex said as Logan sat down next to her. “Something doesn’t add up. Adam Walker and Martin Kirabo worked in labs. They had to know their theft would be discovered.” She slowly shook her head. “Don’t you find that odd?” She’d taken her long hair out of the band that usually held it, and her hair flowed onto her shoulders, just like it had when he’d come to her hotel room the first time. Her gray-blue eyes locked onto his. Logan’s throat constricted, and he had to take a deep breath to get the words in his mind to tumble out of his mouth.
“Yeah . . .” He cleared his throat and tried again. “I was just thinking about that. Ebola is dangerous. Walker had to know the lab would notice the discrepancy.”
“He clearly wasn’t worried about it. He must have been planning this for a long, long time. Already knew when he’d get the sample. Had probably already moved out of his apartment. He may have shifted to where his family is or secured someplace else close to the lab even before the sample arrived. Like I said before, a place where he thought he’d be safe.”
Alex nodded. “This was carefully planned. Down to the last detail.”
Logan realized he was holding his breath and quickly blew it out. “That means . . .”
“That means Martin Kirabo probably had plenty of time to prepare this shipment of his superbug.” Alex turned her head and frowned at him. “They waited until they had the exact virus they wanted. I think this thing may be exactly what Walker says it is. Something powerful enough to kill a lot of people.”
Logan didn’t respond. There was nothing to say. He put his hand on his chest and tried to calm himself. His heart felt as if it would pound right out of his rib cage.
“Let’s look through this information before we start writing up our assessment,” he said. Logan silently handed her the report about Adam Walker, then began to read the information gathered on Martin Kirabo.
He’d barely started when Alex said, “Adam Walker is left-handed.”
“We were certain he was since, based on the writing on the boxcars, the Train Killer is too. But that helps to confirm they’re the same person.”
“Yeah. You know, there’s not a lot
here. Like Harrison said, his coworkers don’t have much to say about him. No one ever saw him outside of work. He has a cousin who lives in Michigan, but he told investigators he met Adam only once. When they were kids. This guy is a ghost.”
“Could Kirabo have come here to help Walker with this plan?”
Alex was silent as she considered his question. “I don’t think so. But after you read that report, tell me if you think it’s possible. I’m sure flights from Africa are being checked carefully. If our colleagues find out he came here, they’ll tell us.”
They both went back to reading the paperwork in front of them. After Alex finished hers, she pushed her file toward Logan. Then she got up and went to the kitchen to brew more coffee. When she was done she brought the cups in and put them back on the coffee table. By then Logan had finished reading and had picked up the file on Adam Walker. As she’d said, not much was there.
“Martin Kirabo doesn’t fit the profile of a serial killer,” she said after a few minutes. She pulled his photo from the file and put it down between them. Logan had to agree. He had a nice smile. A friendly face. He was married and had four children. His mother lived with them. How in the world did he get caught up in this? Not just the Circle but this plot?
As soon as Alex finished speaking, the fax machine beeped and more pages began to slide out. Logan grabbed them before they fell on the floor, then returned to the couch and held them out to Alex.
“Pages from The Book,” she said, her voice choked and low.
He was alarmed by the expression on her face as she stared at the papers in his hand.
He recognized that look.
Alex Donovan was afraid.
20
Once again, Alex felt as if a life she’d ignored for years was rushing at her, determined to drag her back to the pain she’d endured as a child. Hiding in her room, overcome by fear. She’d sat on the floor, leaning against her bed, repeating one of several mantras. I will not be afraid. I will overcome this. I will be okay. One day I’ll do something great.