Cardinal Rule: A James Kendrick Thriller

by James Kendrick

“What’s on God’s earth had happened?” he exclaimed.

  “VECTOR. There was a P4-level break in last night, sir.”

  “A break-in? At VECTOR?” the director repeated.

  “Yes, sir. I have just got off the phone with USAMRIID. They have received confirmation from the Russians that a P-4 biohazard sample was stolen last night.”

  “Jesus…,” exclaimed the director, placing his palms on his forehead.

  “How did this happen?”

  “Apparently it was stolen by one of their own staffs. A certain Dr. Garri Basov.”

  “Garri Basov?” the director said, nearly jumping from his seat, “No. Not Garri. That can’t be. I know him personally. We collaborated together when I was in Russia a couple of years ago. He would never do a thing like that. Are you sure?”

  Caroline nodded her head and then said, “I’m afraid so. He’d access to the labs. And his security details were logged in when the samples were stolen. Plus, camera surveillance had placed him at the time and scene of crime.”

  “Christ,” the director sighed and plunked back onto his chair, “I can’t believe it.”

  He sighed heavily and then shook his head.

  “What samples were stolen?”

  Caroline transfixed her eyes on him. She debated with herself if she should just break the news to him slowly or not. Then took a deep breath and decided to get if off her chest as soon as possible. She opened her mouth to speak but her voice cracked. The words came out soft like a silent whisper.

  “Variola major.”

  “What?”

  She cleared her throat again and forced the words out with more conviction, “Variola major, sir.”

  The director’s features morphed. An expression of absolute shock and disbelief washed over his face. His eyes shot wide open and his mouth hung ajar from his jaw.

  “Oh my God!” he exclaimed, then slapped his bald crown with the palm of his hand.

  “Variola major as in…?” he stopped, not wanting to say what was next.

  Caroline nodded her head somberly.

  “Yes, sir. I’m afraid so. And that’s not all. According to the USAMRIID...,” she hesitated.

  “What?”

  “It’s an enhanced version of the virus, sir… a more deadly variant.”

  The director fell silent at her remarks.

  “Jesus Christ,” he murmured.

  12

  10 hours earlier, Moscow Time.

  Tverskoy District

  DIMITRI YUMASHEV FELT a slight vibration in the left pocket of his slacks. Then a tiny ping. It was a message. He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out his IPhone and peaked at its screen.

  “PACKAGE SECURED. ELENA,” it said.

  Dimitri smiled and then slipped the phone back into his pocket. He eyed the perky young Russian brunette sitting behind the counter.

  “Sir, the earliest flight to Chicago is in an hour’s time. Will that be okay for you?”

  Dimitri nodded his head and said, “Yes. That’ll be perfect. How long will the flight take?”

  “About ten hours. Would you like an economy or business class, sir?”

  “Business.”

  She smiled and nodded her head. Then punched the keyboard furiously. Then stopped abruptly. She stared at the screen and eyed him again and said, “Do you have any check-in luggage or cabin luggage, sir?”

  “Just cabin luggage.”

  “Okay. Please make sure that your cabin luggage is below eight kilos. If you carrying more than that you will have to check-in your luggage.”

  Dimitri smiled at her and then said, “It’s below eight.”

  The perky brunette flashed a smile at him and then glanced at the backpack that was slung over his shoulder. It hung loose. In a gauche and ungainly sort of way. He was probably telling the truth, she surmised, and then glanced back at the terminal in front of her. She jabbed at the keyboard again. With the same, exaggerated, ferocity as she did before and then said, “Okay, Mr. Sergei. I am printing out the boarding pass for you.”

  Dimitri heard the printer churned. Then spew out his ticket. The attractive concierge ripped it out from the printer, slid it neatly between the pages of his passport and handed it over to him.

  “Have a safe flight Mr. Sergei,” she wished him, flashed a trained smile and then glanced back at her terminal.

  * * *

  DIMITRI SLID HIS hands into his pocket and pulled out the IPhone. He swiped the unlock button and punched in a series of nine-digit numbers. Then clicked a button and pressed the mobile to his right ear.

  It tooted a few seconds. Then heard a click.

  “Hello?” a man answered. The cadence of an American inflection evident in his voice.

  “I’m boarding the plane now.”

  A quick reply followed.

  “Good. Everything’s moving smoothly?”

  “Yes. Is the money wired in? ”

  “Yes. And you’ll get the other half when the job’s done.”

  Dimitri lips crumpled into a thin smile.

  “Good. I’ll check the amount before I board the plane. One more thing. Have you located the target like I asked you?”

  “Yes. Download the app through the link that I’ll send to you. In it you’ll be able pinpoint his position precisely. One more thing.”

  “What?”

  “There’s someone else looking for the target.”

  Dimitri frowned his brows. He was annoyed. He didn't like surprises. And he didn’t like people getting in his way. But that was why he also had a plan set-up before any mission. And that plan was already in motion.

  “Who?” he harrumphed resentfully.

  “Another operative possibly. We believe he could be working for the Feds or Interpol.”

  “And what do you want me to do with him?”

  “Kill him. Leave no ends loose. That’s what we’re paying you for.”

  Dimitri chuckled sarcastically and then ended the call.

  13

  JAMES CAUGHT LEE’s hands trembling as he sipped his cup of coffee. His face was pallid. Sweat streamed down from his forehead. He glanced nervously at the two kids sitting beside him.

  “Did you go to the police?” James said.

  “Who?”

  “The cops.”

  “No. I can’t go to the cops.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just can’t. I don’t know who to trust.”

  James pondered his remark. Then shook his head.

  “I don’t get it. Why are you trusting me then?” James said.

  Lee nodded his head slowly. Acknowledged the question. Then took a sip of his coffee and placed the cup down on the table.

  “I don’t know. Something tells me that I can…trust you. Plus…”

  He eyed James in the eyes.

  “You’re not connected to any of it,”

  James shook his head.

  “I think you should still go the cops.”

  Lee shook his head from left to right sternly.

  “You’re afraid that someone might get to you if you went to the cops?”

  Lee peeled his eyes from James and then looked away. He fell silent for a while. Then spoke.

  “These people…who are after me are connected to the government. And they won’t stop until they get what they want from me. Tara worked for them. And now she’s lying in a body bag. I’m next on that list.”

  James weighed in the man’s words.

  “And what do they want from you?” he said.

  “Something horrible. Something terrible,” Lee said morosely.

  He paused, then took a deep breath and said, “A couple of years ago, Tara, was stationed here in the Unites States. She was commissioned by Russia’s State Research Center of Virology and Biotechnology to…”

  “You mean VECTOR?” James cut him off.

  Lee was surprised.

  “Yes. VECTOR. It’s...”

  “It’s like the equivalent of our C
DC,” James said.

  Lee was surprised again. Then nodded his head slowly.

  “Yes, it’s like the equivalent of the CDC. But how did you know about…”

  “Doesn’t matter. Tell me what happen next,” James interjected.

  Lee eyed James, pondered for a second, and then continued his story.

  “You see, the first time we met, was at a symposium in Russia. She was presenting a paper. She was a brilliant researcher by her own right. An expert in disease spread pattern and applied epidemiology. And it’s our shared interest in spread patterns that brought us…close,” he said.

  James sensed the clip tone in his voice.

  “She kept me in good company. She was intelligent. Creative. Well-mannered. She loved playing with the kids. And through time we grew intimate. Even finished each other’s sentence at times,” he chuckled, as if reminiscing a precious distant memory.

  “But, there was something dark about her too. A certain part of her life always remained distant to me. It was like a mystery. And she’d always been afraid to share it with me. Thinking about it now, I realized, maybe she couldn’t. She was afraid that she was being watched. And that made her very cautious. Constantly looked over her shoulders. She had to, I think.”

  Lee stopped and then looked over his shoulders again to check on his kids. They were in their own world. Slapping each other’s hands in a rhythmic beat. Chiming an old elementary jejune tune.

  “Quack a dilly oso, quack quack quack,

  Señorita, your mother smells like pizza,

  Dolor dolor, I’ll kick you out the door, dolor.

  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9…10!”

  They repeated the tune over and over again. Unaware of the grave conversation that James and their father was having.

  “A couple of months ago, she started to become more and more paranoid. She thought somebody was following her. She believed it’d something to do with her research. Convinced that someone was after it.”

  “Why?” asked James.

  Lee sighed. Then palmed his cup nervously. He took a deep breath and then said, “Have you ever heard of Variola Major?”

  James shook his head.

  “What about small pox?”

  James eyes widened. He knew what it was.

  “Small pox?”

  Lee nodded his head.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought that disease was eradicated.”

  Lee bobbed his head up and down.

  “Yes. The virus doesn’t exist it in the wild anymore. In fact, the last known person to be naturally infected by this virus was a Somalian boy. In nineteen-seventy-seven,” he confirmed, “But samples of the virus still exist, Mr. James. And they are stored in two repositories. One in CDC. And one at VECTOR. In Russia. Only a few are privy to where the actual samples are stored.”

  Lee Dawson paused, and checked his watched. Then looked at James.

  “In nineteen-ninety-two, a Russian scientist defected to United States, bringing with him some insider information about a secret Russian biochemical warfare program. Codenamed Cygnus. He revealed later that the Russians were still mass-producing the virus by the tones and retrofitting them on specially designed warheads. But the buck didn’t stop there, Mr. James. Instead, the Russians invested heavily on researching the Variola Major virus. In improving its design. That’s why the World Health Organization couldn’t destroy the last known samples kept at the C.D.C.”

  “What do you mean by improving its design?” James asked.

  “The original variant of the virus had a kill rate of thirty-percent. The Russians improved this rate of mortality by seventy-five-percent,” Lee said.

  James was appalled at his statement.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  Lee nodded his head.

  “You think that’s bad, Mr. James? The…”

  Tim appeared at Lee’s side suddenly.

  “Dad, how long are we going to be here?” he prompted him.

  Lee patted him gently on his head. Then said, “I’m sorry kiddo. I know it must be tough for you. Just hang in there, okay, tough guy. We’re going to get through this.”

  “But I’m bored. Can’t we just go home?”

  Lee met his sad gaze. Deep down it hurt him to see his frustration and innocent exasperation. He was just a kid after all.

  “I know kiddo. I wish we could too. Soon, kiddo. Soon. Now go play with your sister for a moment. Daddy needs to talk to Mr. James over here. He’s going to help us get home.”

  James shot a glance at Lee. Didn’t recall promising him anything about getting them home. He’d only agreed to a cup of coffee. But he knew now that wasn’t the case anymore. He was caught in something deeper. Something more sinister. And he wasn’t sure what he was up against.

  Lee looked at him. His eyes filled with desperation. Searching for some sort of confirmation from James. That what he’d promised to his son wasn’t just a bunch of mumbo jumbo.

  James bit his lips. Then looked at the little kid.

  He wasn’t going to leave a fallen man behind. Let alone his kids.

  “So that others may live.” That was his cardinal rule.

  14

  THE SHINY, METALLIC red, Buick Lacrosse pulled to a stop at the car park of the second terminal. The driver killed the engine and got out of the car. He brushed his coat, pulled out a cigarette from one pocket and then lit it. Then slowly pulled in the fumes while he gathered his thoughts. The job wasn’t going to be an easy one, he thought. Security, was going to be tight. He couldn’t sneak into the terminals without clearing the checks.

  The target was smart. He’d chosen an airport. Where no one could sneak in a weapon. That conundrum put two options on the table. One, he thought, he could wait for the target to come out from the terminal, tail him and then engage him when he least expect it. Or, two, he could buy a ticket and get into the lounge and locate the target by himself. But he’d have to leave his piece behind. That meant he couldn’t kill his target effectively. Or protect himself effectively. That was a handicapped. But he knew he could take out his target in other ways if needed. Like snapping his neck in two, he grinned.

  Then he sensed the vibration from his left jacket. Two strong pulses and then it stopped. He fished out a mobile and peeked at the screen. ‘TERMINAL 5’, it said, ‘Secure the package. Kill the target.’

  Then he slipped the phone back into his jacket.

  “Oh. Snap,” he chuckled, then smiled.

  15

  “IS THERE ANYONE coming to get you?”

  Lee eyed James blankly. Then shook his head.

  “Not even someone you can trust?”

  Lee shook his head again. “No. I can’t trust anyone,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  Lee sighed. Reached for his luggage under the table, unzipped it and fished out a small black laptop bag. He flip the flap open and pulled out a small tablet. Then placed it on the table without switching it on.

  “Mr. James, I believe my life, and my family’s lives are in danger. And it’s because of…this,” he said pressing his index finger on the black screen of the tablet.

  James shook his head. Puzzled by his statement.

  Lee then clicked a button on the tablet and waited patiently for it to turn on.

  “Mr. James, I believe that they’re coming for me. That they’re trying to get this from me,” he said, palming the thin tablet.

  “Why? What’s in it?”

  The tablet vibrated. Lee picked it up in his palms and punched in an eight-digit number on the screen. Then placed it back down on the table.

  “A couple of months ago, Tara came to me with this tablet. She said she was on the verge of discovering something big. Something that could change the fate of millions of people around the world. But she was very troubled by it. I could tell. Very afraid. And very secretive. Frightened about the implications of her discovery. She felt that it was a gift and a curse at the same time.”

  James
shot him a questioning look.

  “What do you mean?”

  Lee nodded, and then explained himself.

  “You see, Mr. James, the Russians kept a strain of the virus locked up in a P4 Bio-Level lab. A highly guarded lab where the most dangerous biological agents are kept. With national security clearances. I was never privy to the inner circle of this. But Tara was. She worked there. At VECTOR. She didn’t have access to the labs. But she’d all the security clearances to the research files. She knew what the hell the Russians were up too.”

  James took a deep breath. He didn’t like where this was going.

  “She told me that they’d created a new virus. A biological agent codenamed Exidor that uses the Variola Major Virus research at its base. And they’d succeeded in enhancing its lethality. Created some sort of super virus. But you see, Mr. James, they’d made a big mistake in doing that,” Lee continued in a concerned tone.

  “What mistake?”