The Rhine River stretched out in the distance winding through the city like a dark snake. The airport was very distinctive from the air. The terminal and the walls of the parking circle were shaped like the Pentagon, but more surprising was that it was flanked by two buildings shaped like the Star of David.
Paul sat down and strapped in to prepare for landing.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” It was the young Australian with the sat phone, apparently returned from the land of the dumb-struck.
“Yes, very,” Paul replied.
“That’s terminal one where we’ll be landing. Are you flying back to America from there?”
Paul thought about it and chuckled. “I’m not sure, actually.”
The young guy grinned.
“I’m Paul, by the way. Paul Sardis.”
“Nathan,” the young guy said, with a nervous smile and a nod. He glanced at his superior. “You’re right, you know.”
“What?”
“The mouse pox. It’s unconfirmed but consensus has it.”
“Why?”
His superior stirred from his cat nap. The young Aussie just looked at Paul, his face a nervous worry.
Paul didn’t like what he read in his eyes.
The airplane made a relatively smooth landing, skidding down the runway about eleven hours after taking off from Beijing. With the six hour time difference, Paul figured he’d lost five hours.
Paul dragged himself into the terminal, and said his farewells to Dan and the others. Empty promises to get together, but they all knew. They could sense that change was coming.
Terminal One was a multilevel concrete structure that stepped up like a cruise ship in a u-shape, flanked by the two Star of David-shaped buildings which were only recognizable as such from the air.
Paul lugged around his carry-on, the only thing the soldiers had let him bring. One change of clothes, toiletries, and that was it. He made his way to a public washroom to splash some water on his face and try and wake himself up for the second leg of his journey.
Refreshed from a shave and a Red Bull, Paul looked around for an internet kiosk or phone. He needed to get the news to Leslie. If the young Aussie was right and this is mouse pox the world was about to change.
Chapter 9
Leslie was sitting on the old wooden double swing integrated into the structure of the dock. Her arms were crossed and resting on her raised right knee, her thoughts lost in the rhythmic patter of rain that fell on the lake’s dark surface. If it weren’t for the subtle sweeping motion of the swing she might pass for Rodin’s famous statue the thinker only more troubled. She wore a green windbreaker with the hood down. Her sandy blonde hair was matted, as dark as the water. It fell lifelessly in long wet spikes cascading over her shoulders and raised knee.
Hurricane Gabrielle had moved inland after striking the Gulf Coast of Florida. It lost energy after thrashing Sarasota, and then gradually slowed as it moved inland. Gabrielle was eventually downgraded to a tropical storm that cut an eastern swath across Florida before fading into the Atlantic. The early estimates of its destruction were staggering, with severe damage to Sarasota, St Petersburg, and Tampa.
In Spring Lake, the only remnant of the powerful hurricane was a light but steady rain.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Jake had crept up on Leslie.
“Morning, Jake.”
Jake removed a copper coin from his pocket and skipped it across the lake. Leslie smiled and looked up at him.
“I’m just worried.”Leslie confessed.
A droplet of rainwater fell from her eyelash and rolled down her cheek.
“No word from Paul?”
She shook her head. Jake moved around to face her.
“Move that skinny frame over kiddo.”
Jake sat beside Leslie and removed his ball cap, slapping it on his leg to knock the water off.
“That jean jacket looks about as rough as I feel,” Leslie joked, trying to deflect from her obvious foreboding.
“This is my newer one.” Jake chuckled.
Jake ran his hand through his hair then snugged his cap back on. Leslie wondered if he was as nervous as he looked, but she waited for Jake to speak.
“He’ll be all right, Leslie.”
Leslie looked up into the kind eyes that had comforted her so often after her father died and almost believed him.
“I hope you’re right, Jake.”
Jake was still fidgeting, and Leslie was dying to press him, but she sat silently while he chose his words. For a man whose life had been marked by heroic acts that some called reckless, Jake suddenly seemed like a bashful teenager asking a date to the prom. Leslie knew whatever he had to say must be important.
Finally, Jake spoke. “I’ve been thinking about those doctors, Leslie.”
“I’m so glad you said that,” Leslie said, grateful they were thinking alike. “It’s really been bothering me.”
“I’ve got an old friend from the base. He was an MP turned private detective. You might remember him. John Rolston?”
“Of course, I haven’t seen him since Dad’s funeral.”
“He’s older. We all are, I guess. Anyway, he’s retired, but he’s still got connections. And he’s like a fuckin’ bloodhound once he gets a scent. If those Doctors are out there, he’ll find them.”
“How much time till you think it would show up here?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll bet one of those doctors can give us an idea.”
“Then what?”
“I’m going to get all the supplies I can fit in the truck. When the time comes, we run. If it’s mouse pox, isolation’s our only chance. We’ll need guns, too.”
Leslie looked at him. Somehow, as bad as she imagined it would be, Jake obviously thought it was going to be worse. He saw the look in her eyes and continued.
“Fear breeds panic. Panic means riots, looting, and worse. Fear’s like walking a razor’s edge. Some folks will fall to the side of good, some to the side of evil and an even larger number of folks will fall to the razor’s edge. I suspect we’ll witness extreme displays of both good and evil. Some folks’ll take what they need, and some’ll just take. Let’s remember we’ll be walking the same razor’s edge. ”
Leslie sat silently for a moment, considering this.
“Okay, Jake. Call John and give him the doctor’s names.”
“Already done, I called him last night.”
Leslie smiled. Jake was nothing if not decisive, and while he may have felt fear, he never let it stop him from taking action.
“I’ll check my contacts too,” Leslie said. “If these doctors worked for the CDC or the World Health Organization, they’re probably published. I should be able to find them.”
Jake nodded. “Why don’t you go inside and get warmed up. Maybe Paul sent an e-mail or something. It’s almost one-thirty in the afternoon over there.”
Leslie jumped up. “Paul should have landed by now.”
“I’m going to see John and do some shopping. Tell your mom so she doesn’t wonder where I got to. Help me up, princess.”
Jake hadn’t called her that since she was a little girl. She grabbed his hand and pulled him up
“Come on you old fart.”
Leslie knew he didn’t need help. It was a con, his way of holding her hand.
They walked toward the back of the house, following the flagstone through the garden, across the spongy grass to the back door.
“Remember to tell your mother where I went.”
“I will.”
“See you soon, kiddo.”
Jake kissed Leslie on the forehead, let go of her hand, and proceeded around the side of the house to his pick-up. He pulled forward to get around Leslie’s SUV and rolled his truck onto the loose gravel backing out onto Kristen Ave.
Leslie slipped off her shoes and hung the wet windbreaker from the oak coat rack on the wall in the back entrance.
She tip-toed around the now we
t doormat and climbed the three steps to the kitchen.
“Good morning.” She leaned in to give her mother a kiss.
“Did you get any sleep, Leslie?”
“Not much.”
Her mother was washing last night’s dishes. An extremely uncharacteristic break from routine, but last night’s news was anything but routine.
“Where did Jake go?
“He went to see John Rolston. Jake thought that he could help us with that list of doctors.”
“Hopefully that won’t be necessary. Paul didn’t say it was definitely mouse pox so let’s try to remain optimistic.”
Her mother had never been naive, but she could be a bit of a Pollyanna.
“I’m going to see if Paul e-mailed me.”
Leslie shuffled out of the kitchen and went to the spare bedroom. The dull skies cast a low light that filtered through the sheer window coverings. Being in this house always brought back memories. The walls in the room had always been pale yellow; as far back as she could remember. She marveled at the bedroom furniture, which had been her parents.’ It was the same five piece set, stained dark with a worn spot in the wood where her mother’s jewelry box had sat for many years.
There was a ring on the nightstand beside Leslie’s laptop from where her mother placed her tea cup. Tea relaxed her mother and had always been part of her nightly routine before bed.
Leslie had slept on the left side of the bed and the sheets were still pulled down, yet barely wrinkled on the rest of the bed. Whether it was comfort or habit, she had always taken the left side even when Paul was away.
She sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the lamp, casting a blunt circle of light on the nightstand. She opened the laptop, took a deep, hopeful breath, and pushed the power button.
The screensaver filled the screen with a picture of Paul and the kids hamming it up for the camera in the backyard pool in St Petersburg. She rubbed her eyes, fearing her children may never again feel such happiness.
In the bottom right corner of the screen was a pop up, an icon of a closed envelope. Leslie breathed a sigh of relief and clicked on the icon. Small victories, big hurdles.
Chapter 10
Jake wheeled down South Belvidere Street headed north, picking his way through the heavy construction and the midday traffic
Belvidere Street was a divided six lane road, three lanes north and three south. It had been a long time since Jake had been there. Nothing looked familiar to him. Munroe Park was the first familiar site to jog his memory as he headed north on the 301 to West Broad Street. He made a quick left and then another on North Pine, heading south again toward Grace Street. He made a right on West Grace, looking for North Harrison.
Jake remembered this bustling neighborhood. It was the stomping grounds for Virginia Commonwealth University and catered to the student population which filled the sidewalks. VCU’s many buildings stretched out along West Grace Street. Light posts and shop windows were covered in flyers advertising local events, mostly bands that played the trendy bars in the area.
Jake turned into a parking lot just past the Village Cafe and backed the truck into the only empty spot against the brick wall just under a huge hand-painted Coke mural.
The Village Cafe was where Jake was meeting John Rolston. John had been with the military police at Fort Bragg and was a friend of Robert’s. Robert had introduced Jake to John more years ago than Jake cared to admit. John had started his own private detective agency after his military service, using all the investigative skills he’d learned as an MP to good advantage.
Busy joint, Jake thought as he walked by the bank of windows running along the front. The cafe looked small from Grace Street, but it stretched out down Harrison. The building looked new but judging by the area it had likely been refaced. The bottom half of the exterior was red brick, topped by tan wood with a long red and white awning over the windows. Yellow and blue neon lights lined the top of the building over pictures of burgers and fries.
Jake walked through the double glass doors at the corner of the building, and scanned the tables. He spotted John immediately. He was a hard man to miss with an enormous square head that seemed to sit on top of his shoulders without the benefit of any neck. He was a lot greyer than Jake remembered but he was still sporting the army crew cut. His barrel chest and massive arms were as impressive as ever, with little to no fat intruding as he’d aged. The man looked like he’d have to get hit with a two-by-four just to get his attention.
“How are you, John?” Jake said, extending his hand.
It was like shoving his hand into a vice and cranking it one turn too tight. He pulled Jake into a bear hug and slapped his back hard enough to break wood.
“Let's go upstairs. It’s quieter.”
Jake nodded and caught his breath just as a cute waitress walked by.
“Amy!” John called out. “Can we get a table upstairs and a pitcher?”
She winked and the two of them followed her up the stairs, which was not an altogether bad experience.
The place was packed with university students who would normally love the patio atmosphere on a nice day, but today the sky was dull with the threat of rain, keeping them inside. The tiny balcony area had four empty tables and the rest were stacked in a corner.
“Sorry about all the kids, but the food is excellent and my office is just around the corner.”
“No problem.”
At that moment, Amy had finished wiping down the table and turned to get their beer when they caught each other watching her leave.
John laughed heartily. “Okay, so the food’s not the only thing that brings me here.”
Jake chuckled, amused.
“You haven't aged a bit,” John said.
“I'm aging on the inside.”
“I hear ya.”
They made small talk until Amy came back with a pitcher and two glasses.
“You still drink beer Jake?”
“Only when I’m awake.”
Amy put two menus down on the table.
“You need some time John?”
“Just come back when you get time, doll.”
Amy turned and walked away.
“Makes you wish you were thirty again, huh Jake?”
“Or that she went for older men,” Jake mused.
“Not gonna argue with that,” John agreed as he tipped the pitcher, filling both their glasses.
“How's June?” John asked. “I haven’t seen either of you since Robert’s funeral.”
“She's good. I moved into the apartment above the garage to help her out keeping up the house.”
“Nice you two can keep each other company.”
John raised an eyebrow, but Jake didn’t take the bait and that was the one subject John would never broach.
“Leslie and the kids are up now.”
“Right. Hurricane Gabrielle,” John said, nodding his head, “Heard St. Pete got hammered.”
“Yeah, it’s bad, but at least they're safe.”
John looked around before leaning in and getting down to business.
“I looked into that list of doctors you gave me.” He paused. “Pretty unsettling.”
“What did you find?”
“Out of twelve names, my contacts couldn’t locate five. Worse yet, the five I found...”
“What?”
“Dead.”
Jake looked at him, stunned.
“And you might say they all came to a suspicious end.”
“Jesus,” Jake muttered. “I can’t say I expected anything like this.”
“Car accidents, hiking accidents and one unknown. Guy just fell asleep and never woke up.”
“No autopsy?”
“Apparently not.”
Jake’s mind was racing. Things were getting more complicated than he’d anticipated.
“That’s not even the strange part,” John said.
“What the hell could be stranger?” Jake asked.
John pau
sed and leaned forward in his seat.
“They all died the same year. 2004.”
Jake took a minute to comprehend what he was hearing.
“Same year as Robert?”
John nodded.
“What about the other two?” Jake asked.
“One was with USAMRID, but retired, whereabouts unknown. Last known residence was Australia. Canberra, I think.”
John pulled a notebook from his inside coat pocket and continued.
“He’s got a son. Dr. Andrew Bryce who heads a research team at the St.Louis University.”
John squinted at his notes.
“Molecular microbiology and biological genetic engineering. That’s a mouthful.”
Just then Amy came to check on them.
“Have you decided or is it another liquid lunch, John?”
John chuckled. “I'll take a club sandwich and fries, smart-ass and another pitcher of beer.”
Amy laughed and made a note, turning to Jake.
“Same for me dear. Keep it simple, “Jake replied.
“Thanks guys.”
She scooped up the menus and scurried back down the stairs, but not before giving Jake an appraising glance he didn’t notice. John did, but said nothing. He could see Jake was all business now.
As soon as she was out of earshot they resumed their conversation.
“What's your take on this?” Jake asked.
“Can’t say for sure, but I’d guess after Panama, the five were approached by our military or maybe the CIA. Their whereabouts were classified, that’s for damn sure. Be easier finding them in the witness protection program. My contacts couldn't dig up shit. The other five either wouldn’t play ball or played ball and then wanted out. One thing for sure, whatever they were working on was worth killing them over.”
Jake shook his head, incredulous. But what John told him next was even more shocking.
“And apparently the mouse pox outbreak in Panama never happened. Erased.”
“I was there, John. It was in the fuckin’ papers.”
Jake knew how the government, in particular the CIA could make evidence disappear, but this was truly scary since Jake was a witness to some of what happened.
Playing God Page 6