In The Defendant's Chair

by Lynn Moon

  Alex leaped to his feet knocking his chair to the floor. He knelt beside Early and placed his hand on her shoulder. Early hesitated only slightly before falling into his arms. She screamed and cried inside her husband’s tight embrace.

  “We’ll go away, Early,” he said crying on her shoulder. “I’ll be more careful and I’ll never let anything like this happen again. I was told you were all over the news. But we were forbidden to watch TV. They secluded us from the world.”

  “How did you find out about me then?”

  “An employee named Hope. She dropped me a note and inside was a newspaper clipping. It was of your trial,” he cried. “I was so angry and scared. I didn’t know where to start or what to do. I started making phone calls. At first I wasn’t sure who to trust so I wrote down everything I could remember.”

  “His notes are now a valuable piece of evidence,” Carrie added patting Early on the back. “It helped us to piece the rest of the story together.”

  “Early,” Drake said standing next to Carrie. “From what I can tell, Alex knew as much as you did. He is innocent of any wrong-doing sweetheart.”

  Early dried her eyes and stared at Drake. Her eyes were red and swollen, but she looked happy. “You see, Drake,” Early said between tears. “I told you my family was alive. I told you.”

  “You told me sweetheart, and you taught me a valuable lesson,” Drake replied as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I will always listen and hear what my clients are telling me. I never doubted you Early… never.”

  “I know,” Early cried. “I know.”

  Chapter 101

  “I WANT TO speak to the pilots myself,” Nestle ordered to the frightened man standing in front of him.

  “But sir,” he stuttered. “Our pilots are all over the world.”

  “Then put me through on a mass conference call, you idiot,” Nestle yelled. “It’s not difficult.”

  “Yes sir,” the man said stumbling on his words.

  Nestle sighed. “This project’s not happening as easily as I’d hoped. I requested the two genetic scientists be present for the mass spraying, but of course they’ve been assigned to another project. I’ll have to have that Ryan Williamson removed as Director before the day’s over. But at the moment, I’ve more important things to tend to.”

  “You’re going through with this I see,” Geeshmore said. “You’ve actually lost your mind.”

  “Come here,” Nestle demanded as Geeshmore entered.

  “What?” Geeshmore asked standing in front of the man.

  Nestle grabbed Geeshmore’s shirt and pulled him in. “Don’t you ever say that to me again. I’m the one who’s saving mankind. It will be ME they will be paying their respects to… and DON’T YOU FORGET IT!”

  Geeshmore pushed Nestle away and adjusted his shirt and tie. His face was red with anger. He’d had just about enough of this crazy lunatic. He stared at him for just a moment before he left the room with his hands in a fist.

  “Stupid asshole,” Geeshmore said pushing the elevator button for the lobby.

  “Who’s an asshole?” Derrier asked as the elevator started to move.

  Geeshmore was so angry he didn’t look to see who else was riding down before speaking. He jumped and gasped at the same time. “Damn it, Crystal. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Vernon,” she said gliding her lip gloss over her thick lips. “Who’s an asshole?”

  “No one,” Geeshmore said turning to face the doors.

  “Could you possibly be talking about dear sweet Ro?” she asked placing her arm through his and grabbing on firmly. “Not my precious Ro?”

  The doors opened and they exited the elevator into the lobby together, arm in arm toward the waiting black cars parked along the curb.

  * * * * * *

  The screens blinked on and the airmen watched as Dr. Roland Nestle’s face appeared before them. From Nestle’s side, there were many screens each only a few inches in diameter. To him, everyone looked different, but in reality it was the same group of men. If Nestle had taken the time to look at the uniforms, he would have seen they were all the same. But today, Nestle was too busying becoming a god and he wasn’t paying attention to the trivial details.

  “Men,” Nestle said with his back firm and his chin held high. “Today’s assignment will be the most important of your life. Stay on your flight paths; do not deviate. It’s critical you release your load at the coordinates given. Do not waste your precious cargo. But do not spray sparingly either. I wish you Godspeed as you propel us into the future.”

  The screens went blank and the men stared at each other with surprise on their faces. Then the laughter stared. They continued laughing as they stood and retrieved their trash carts from the side of the room. The Agency janitors continued to laugh as they headed to their floors to begin their daily cleaning.

  * * * * * *

  Nestle wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. He prayed he didn’t look too afraid to the military pilots around the world. It was the first time he’d ever delivered such an important speech, but he also knew it would not be his last. He left the small conference room and walked down the hallway to his office. The large CDC complex in Fairfax, Virginia offered him the privacy he required for this special project. His room was small but comfortable. He knew the spraying would be over before he sat down for his dinner. Nestle was so excited he couldn’t wait to get home to the six o’clock news.

  Throughout the day, progress reports dropped on his desk by his assistant, Amelia, included location of military planes and amounts of cargo released, as well as current weather conditions for those areas. Nestle was more than excited when he read not one storm dared to dampen his goals today. Obviously, Mother Nature was on his side.

  He watched the clock as the minutes ticked away. As the little hand got closer to five, Nestle’s anticipation increased to a level about to explode. At exactly a quarter to five, Nestle bid good night to Amelia and ran from his office.

  Amelia watched as the elevator closed behind her boss. She picked up the phone and dialed the number given to her earlier that morning.

  “Amelia Anderson speaking, I’m reporting Dr. Roland Nestle has left the building,” she said as clearly as she could. “Good night.” The dial tone echoed in her ear as she studied the phone. That was the weirdest call she ever had to make.

  * * * * * *

  Nestle’s dinner consisted of a granola bar and a cup of coffee. He was not about to waste time stopping to pick something up and he had no spare minutes to stand in front of a microwave. With his wife at their home in Atlanta, Georgia, Nestle sat contently alone and hungry in front of his TV with a small snack and a cup of hot caffeine. He watched and listened through the local news, political views and daily accomplishments of those in the sports arenas. But not one word was mentioned about the jets or the intense spraying. It had been years since the citizens had seen the white streaks in the sky. Any signs of new spraying would have brought immediate attention and complaints.

  Ranting and raving, Nestle called his contact at the Department of Defense and tapped his foot waiting anxiously for the man to answer. After several rings, a voice echoed through his ear.

  “Extension 7742,” the voice said. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, this is Dr. Nestle of the CDC, I need to speak with Special Agent Fallon.”

  “Yes sir,” Nate replied covering the mouthpiece to hide a laugh. “Please hold.”

  Nate sat the receiver on the table and chuckled heading into the bathroom.

  “Maddie,” he yelled. “Are you finished with your bath, sweetheart?”

  “Not really,” she replied, “what’s up?”

  “The call came in earlier than expected. Special Agent Fallon is being requested.”

  “Damn,” she said dripping with water. “Can you grab my robe and another towel please?”

  Maddie ran to the living room laughing all the way. She paused for a
few moments to steady herself before sitting in the chair. Calmly she picked up the receiver and placed it next to her ear. “This is Special Agent Fallon.”

  Water dripped from her hair and into her eyes. She dried her face with the corner of her towel. Her job is one of the best ever.

  Nestle hesitated. He was expecting a man not a woman to be his contact. But he decided it didn’t matter as long as the spraying took place.

  “I saw nothing on the news this afternoon,” Nestle stated.

  Maddie rolled her eyes and grinned. She waited a few seconds before speaking. It was important to intensify his apprehension. Taking in a deep breath, Maddie spoke slowly. “Project Hygeia was completed at twenty-three twelve GMT.”

  “Damn it woman,” he yelled. “What time would that be here… in Virginia?”

  Maddie had to hold the phone away as she tried hard not to laugh. When she regained her composure, she replied, “That would be eighteen twelve eastern standard time, or twelve minutes after six this afternoon. It is now nine thirty in Virginia. Or approximately three hours ago. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “I don’t see any lines in the sky!” he yelled.

  “Well,” Maddie replied as professionally as possible. “Since the sun has all ready set, I don’t see how you can see much of anything other than stars right now. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “Yes,” Nestle screamed. “Go fuck yourself.”

  Nestle slammed the phone down so hard Maddie had to hold it away from her ear. Her laughter was loud and Nate could hear it echoing down the hallway as he tossed the wet towel onto the side of the tub.

  “My God I love my job,” Maddie shouted at Nate. “This is just too much fun and we get paid for it.”

  * * * * * *

  Nestle sat in his office the next morning steaming. He spent most of the evening pacing his room. Sleep finally caught him a little past two in the morning, and after a restless night of fighting his blankets, Nestle could probably count a total of three hours of sleep. His coffee cup was empty again, and he didn’t feel like walking down the hall.

  “Amelia!” he yelled.

  “What?” she hollered from her desk.

  Nestle had to bite his tongue. The woman was new. She was assigned to him only a few months ago, and he hated her. She couldn’t type, couldn’t file and had terrible phone manners. But her ass was nice and her boobs bounced when she walked. So at least she had a few good secretarial qualities.

  “Get your sweet ass in here please,” he yelled.

  Amelia stood at his door and stared at him with her hip swayed to one side. “You rang?”

  Nestle held out his empty cup and wiggled it.

  “Honestly?” Amelia whined. “What am I your wife or something?”

  “Just go get the fucking coffee,” he sneered. “Please?”

  “Well. Since you said please, how can I refuse.” Amelia yanked the cup from his hand and the few remaining drops splashed him in the face. “Oops,” she said as she left his office.

  Nestle wiped the coffee from his chin and growled. Not only did he need to get rid of Ryan Williamson, but now he needed to figure out how to get rid of this bitch of a secretary. The phone rang, which startled him. Excitement ran through him as he thought of the possibilities. This could only be good news.

  “Dr. Nestle,” he said into his phone.

  “This is the office of the president. Dr. Nestle, this is Tina Killian, Senior Advisor. Please hold for Madam President.”

  What in the hell could she possibly want? Nestle waited for the woman to come to the phone. She was always calling at the wrong time.

  “Nestle,” Strickland stated with a staunch professionalism that frightened him. “A car is waiting for you downstairs. I need you in my office immediately.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said replacing his receiver.

  “Your coffee, sir,” Amelia said sitting his cup on his desk.

  “Not now. I’ve just been summoned to the White House.” Nestle grabbed his jacket and ran from his office.

  * * * * * *

  Amelia watched as the elevator doors closed. She grabbed her purse and her two personal items, a picture of her and her husband and a small clock. The door clicked as she pulled it behind her. Another assignment completed and she was ready to check out.

  In the parking lot, her cell phone rang twice before a sweet voice answered. “Dr. Lewis’s office, Connie speaking.”

  * * * * * *

  Nestle stood in front of Tina tapping his foot. His anger was rising because he really didn’t have time for this shit. He had important things to do.

  “Tina,” he snapped. “You called me remember?”

  “Yes sir,” she replied.

  Tina was irritating him, but to explode on a Senior Advisor to the president probably wouldn’t be a good idea. He had to maintain his composure if his project was to be successful.

  “Tina?” he asked. “How much longer?”

  “I have no idea sir,” Tina replied. “Please have a seat. Madam President will be with you shortly.”

  With nothing else to do, Nestle plopped into the nearest chair. He pulled out his cell to check his emails, nothing new. Obviously the virus hadn’t reached its full effectiveness yet. The genetic scientists did tell him it could be days before any symptoms appeared in the general population. After shoving his phone back into his pocket, Nestle was surprised to see Geeshmore enter the waiting room.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked with a growl.

  “I was summoned.”

  “Summoned?” Nestle repeated. “What are you a witness or something?”

  “No,” Geeshmore answered. “I received a call a car was waiting for me and to get into it. What are you doing here?”

  “Please gentlemen,” Tina urged. “Voices carry from this room. I must ask you to be quiet.”

  “Sorry, Tina,” Geeshmore said taking a seat next to Nestle and crossing his legs.

  The phone on Tina’s desk beeped twice and she smiled. “The president will see you now.”

  “Thank you, Tina,” Geeshmore replied and opened the door leading to the oval office. “Good morning, Madam President.”

  “Good morning,” Strickland replied taking a seat on a couch. “Please join me, you too Roland.”

  The men sat on the opposite couch and tried to relax. Nestle kept pulling out his phone and checking for messages. Geeshmore crossed his legs, then adjusted himself, switched his legs, and adjusted himself again.

  “You two remind me of little boys sitting in a principal’s office,” Strickland stated. “What have you done now?”

  “Excuse me?” Geeshmore asked.

  “Neither of you can sit still,” she explained. “So tell me, what have you done?”

  “Nothing,” Nestle stated so quickly he didn’t even convince himself.

  “I see, well then,” Strickland said but was cut off when Tina rushed into the room and turned on her TV.

  “Madam President!” Tina stated with eyes opened so wide Nestle believed they would fall onto the floor at any moment. “You have to see this for yourself.”

  Tina turned on the TV and pointed to the screen. People were running madly through the street as an announcer explained the situation. But the sound was off. Strickland grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. The announcer looked terrified. Medical and rescue personnel were scrambling from victim to victim checking for any signs of life. Police were directing foot traffic and more medical personnel were arriving every second. Screams and pleas for help echoed throughout the room.

  “My God!” Strickland yelled. “What in the world is going on now?”

  …are trying to do everything they can to help those affected. We’re still not sure if this is a terrorist attack or something else. We’ve been warned about the overuse of antibiotics and perhaps this is the day we’ve all feared. People have been dropping like flies all morning. For those of you just turning i
n, this is Margaret Walsh, with Fox News coming to you live from Atlanta. Shortly after rush hour, people started showing signs of being ill… coughing, vomiting, fainting or screaming. Those still in their vehicles crashed into buildings or other cars. It is chaos here and we still don’t have any idea what is causing this sudden illness. So far the death toll has reached over a hundred and more are dying as the minutes pass…

  Strickland muted the TV and stared at Tina. “Do you know if this is a local event?”

  “No,” Tina stated. “It’s happening in cities all over our country. Could this be a terrorist attack, Madam President?”

  Greghardt burst into the room tossing a newspaper at Strickland. “Madam President. We have a deadly epidemic on our hands! Ah! The CDC and NIH have arrived. Thank God, men, we need your help.”

  Greghardt took a seat between Nestle and Geeshmore and stared at them.

  “So,” Strickland said crossing her arms and legs. “What should we do, Dr. Nestle, Dr. Geeshmore? Please advise.”

  The two men sat quietly. It seemed that neither wanted to speak. Geeshmore adjusted himself again by crossing his legs, and Nestle pulled out his phone to check for messages. But again, neither spoke.

  “Okay men,” Strickland added. “I need the advice from my two health officials. What should we do?”

  The men remain quiet. Geeshmore leaned forward and looked over at Nestle for guidance but when none came, he sat back.

  “Vernon?” Strickland asked. “You don’t look so good. Are you coming down with a virus?”

  Geeshmore coughed to clear his throat, “No, I don’t believe so.”

  “Maybe we should go outside and check for ourselves,” Strickland stated.

  Geeshmore leaned forward and glanced at Nestle. “Um… no?”

  “And why not?” Strickland asked. “Is there some reason we shouldn’t go outside and take in a deep breath?”

  “No? Not really. Not sure what we’d find.” Geeshmore’s face was now whiter than newly fallen snow. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “Why don’t you ask Roland?”

  “Ah come on,” Strickland urged. “Let’s take a walk. Roland, would you walk with me, Vernon? You too. I have a rose garden yah know. It’s quite beautiful this time of year.”