Lethal Savage

by Dave Edlund

  Fortunately, it was still too early for visitors to the park. She stopped at a picnic table and seated Darnell on the ground. She pulled his hands forward and unlocked one side of the cuffs, then secured his hands again, passing the chain around the table support bracing. Darnell would have to carry the table if he planned on making an escape.

  “Don’t worry, the key is universal, so the police will uncuff you when they arrive.”

  “And when will that be? I could freeze out here,” Darnell complained.

  “It’s thirty-five degrees and the police will be here in…” she checked her watch, “twenty minutes, maybe thirty. You won’t freeze.”

  Danya hustled back to the idling truck and sped off. She had to be away from the park before law enforcement showed up. Still wanted by the FBI and the Oregon State Police as a person of interest, she knew that if she was anywhere near Darnell when the police arrived, she’d be arrested. And if that happened, she’d likely be sentenced to prison for the rest of her life.

  As she left Sawyer Park, she should have turned west. That was the direction across the Cascade Mountains, and the tracking app indicated Peter had already crossed the mountains into the Willamette Valley, approaching Eugene. She stopped and bit her lip, a habit of hers when she was torn with indecision. Then she yanked the wheel to the right, toward downtown Bend. I hope I don’t regret this.

  She still remembered the directions to Peter’s condo in the Old Mill District, and it wasn’t long before she pulled her truck to a stop in front of his residence. Recalling that his girlfriend, Kate, was house-sitting and taking care of Diesel, she decided to take a big chance.

  Danya took the steps up to the entry door two at a time, then rapped her knuckles on the solid wood door. She was just about to knock a second time when the door creaked open and a woman’s face peered around the edge.

  “Good morning,” Danya said. “You don’t know me, and this is going to sound like a strange request, but I really need your help.”

  “Oh?” the woman answered.

  “You’re Kate, right?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Yes. How do you know that?”

  “I’m a friend of Peter’s, and he needs our help.” Danya spent a full two minutes—time she couldn’t afford to waste—sharing the highlights with Kate.

  “Have you called the police?” she asked.

  “They can’t be trusted. We think they’re involved.”

  Kate shook her head. “You’re being silly. Look, if you won’t call them, I will.” She moved away from the door for the kitchen. Her cell phone was resting on the counter next to a steaming cup of tea.

  Danya followed her through the door and was stopped by Diesel. His feet were planted evenly, his head lowered. It looked like he could charge in a heartbeat—but he didn’t.

  Danya froze. “It’s alright boy. I’m not going to hurt you or Kate.”

  “Diesel, sit,” Kate called.

  Danya walked into the kitchen. “I can’t let you make that call. If the police are involved, and we’re pretty sure they are, it will only make things worse. They don’t know I’m tracking Peter.”

  “What?” Surprise was evident in Kate’s voice.

  “We’re wasting time. Please! I need your help. We only have one chance to get Peter back alive. You have to trust me.”

  Kate locked eyes with Danya and after several long seconds decided she needed to trust her. “Okay. What do you want from me?”

  Diesel had settled for watching the intruder from the entry hall. He wasn’t displaying aggression, but he was wary. Danya was certain that if she made any threatening or aggressive moves toward Kate, the red pit bull would be on her in a flash.

  “I need him,” she nodded her head toward the canine. “As backup.”

  “You know Peter’s dog?”

  Danya nodded. “We’ve met.” She decided not to elaborate.

  Kate clapped her hands and Diesel jogged up to her, tail wagging. She rubbed her fingers over his thick neck and blocky head. “It’s up to Diesel to choose.”

  “But, he’s a—” Danya’s objection was cutoff.

  “Peter tells me that Diesel is a good judge of character. And from what I’ve seen, I have to agree. So, if he agrees to go with you, I’m good with it. But if he refuses, I’m not going to force him. You’d be wise not to try, either.”

  Danya quickly realized this wasn’t a negotiation. “Okay.” She knew that canines were very perceptive at understanding body language, scenting and interpreting pheromones that were indicative of stress and fear, and reading the emotional state of people. She hoped that her sincerity and urgency would be correctly interpreted by Diesel. She had one chance, and if it didn’t work, her odds of success would be greatly diminished.

  She squatted, facing the red pit bull, holding her hands outstretched with the palms up. “I need your help,” she said. “Peter… he’s in trouble. At least I think he is.” She paused for a moment of reflection. This is ridiculous. I’m actually trying to have a conversation with a dog.

  Diesel cocked his head in response, and his eyes brightened. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Danya raised her eyes to Kate, who simply shrugged.

  She decided it was a make or break moment. “Okay, buddy. Ready for a car ride?” His tail wagged vigorously with anticipation. She breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  Kate wrote her phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to Danya. Then she said, “His leash is hanging by the door.”

  “Thank you.”

  While she was clipping the leash to Diesel’s collar, Kate added, “You’d better bring him back safe, or there will be Peter and me to answer to.”

  “I’ll try,” and she slipped out the door.

  s

  Danya drove west as fast as she dared. She stole a frequent glance at her phone. The object she was tracking had just entered Eugene—she was still half an hour away.

  She picked up the phone and redialed the Bend Police number again. “Detective Colson, please.”

  “I’m sorry. She’s away from her desk—”

  Danya cutoff the receptionist. “Put me through to her cell. It’s important. Has to do with the case she’s investigating right now, the man at Sawyer Park.”

  After several seconds, Colson came on the line. “Hello? May I help you?”

  “Did you find him?”

  “You mean Darnell Price? Are you the person who left him handcuffed to the bench?”

  “Did he tell you my name?”

  Colson was taken aback by the unexpected question that implied a deeper meaning. “He said a woman named Danya did this to him. Is that who I’m talking to?”

  She remained silent. All of her training told her to avoid law enforcement at all costs. But that bridge had been crossed and she had to continue. The events she was embroiled in were far bigger than she could manage on her own. She needed help. “Yes. My name is Danya Biton.”

  “Where are you now, Danya? We have a lot of questions. Did he harm you? Did he attack you?”

  “You have no idea!” Danya shouted into the phone, before calming herself. “Mr. Price has been engaged in a plot to poison bottled water, produced by his company, with a virus. He tested it not far from you, on the reservation. The CDC has already begun an investigation, but they failed to find the source.”

  “Are you referring to the outbreak in Warm Springs?”

  “Precisely. Mr. Price will be happy to explain how he laced his water with the virus and then donated that water to the Warm Springs Tribal Council. He will also tell you how he came into possession of such a dangerous contagion.”

  “Why are you telling me this over the phone? I need you to come into the police station and make an official statement.”

  Danya let out a short, mocking laugh. “That will never happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  The line was silent while the det
ective collected her thoughts. “Should I?”

  “Oh, I think so. You see, we met at the United Armaments test facility in eastern Oregon. I was the woman who phoned to report the kidnapping.”

  Colson paused, searching her memory. “You were involved in the shootout on Broken Top.” She couldn’t mask her incredulity. “But at that time, you went by the name of Nadya Wheeler.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Why are you telling me this? Please, come into the station. Whatever happened before, you can help me clear it up. You don’t have to keep running.”

  “I said I’m not coming in,” Danya replied, her voice sharp.

  Colson’s mind was racing, recalling her conversation a few weeks ago with the Deschutes County District Attorney, and his revelation that fingerprints from one of the Broken Top shooters were found on a weapon at a homicide crime scene near La Pine.

  “Were you in La Pine a while ago?” she asked. “Were you involved in that dog-fighting ring? We have your fingerprints on one of the weapons.”

  “I don’t have time to waste. Are you interested in learning what I know about this bioterrorism or not?”

  Colson’s experience told her not to push, but play along. The longer she could keep Danya talking, the better. “Sure. But there’s something more, right?”

  Her question was answered with silence.

  “You didn’t need to speak with me. You could have simply left a note on the bench, or an anonymous tip. But you didn’t. Why?”

  “I need your help. There are lives at stake. I was told I can trust you.”

  “Told? By who?”

  s

  Danya spent the next thirty minutes bringing Detective Colson up to speed, stopping many times while the detective caught up with her note taking. When she finished Colson said, “That’s an interesting story. But sounds like the Eugene PD has jurisdiction; certainly not Bend PD. Perhaps if you knew where this lab was located, I could help get the sheriff engaged. Do you have anything more to go on?”

  “No, I’ve shared all I know.”

  “Well, I know a couple detectives in the Eugene PD. I’ll make a call and see what they know about Utopian-Bio and Simon Ming.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Ming has hired a security force that operates more like a paramilitary team. They seem to show little concern for attracting attention from the law, and I have reason to believe they have police officers on their payroll. If Ming is as wealthy as he’s rumored to be, paying large bribes would easily be within his means.”

  “Okay, Danya. You called me. What do you think I can do to help you?”

  “Keep Mr. Price in protective custody. They’ve already tried to kill him once. Since he knows about their organization, he represents an unacceptable liability.”

  “You sound like someone who is speaking from experience.”

  Danya bristled at the thinly veiled accusation, but she also knew it to be true. “And phone Dr. Julia Zhong at the CDC in Atlanta. You need to convince her to interview Price and shut down his bottling company while an investigation is conducted. She led the investigation at Warm Springs and knows Peter Savage.” She repeated the phone number Peter had shared.

  “Wait. Don’t tell me he’s involved, too.”

  “Yes. He’s been working with the tribal council to find the cause of the illness, and he’s the one who got the CDC to investigate.”

  “The two of you, working together. Just like old times. That can’t be good.”

  “Listen, Detective. Forget about what happened before. That’s history, done and over.”

  “I have your fingerprints linking you to a triple homicide and a dog-fighting ring. This isn’t over until I have you in custody.”

  “You aren’t listening! What part of bioterrorism don’t you understand? These people are serious! So if you want to do something positive to help avert a disaster, I suggest you focus and forget about the little shit.”

  Chapter 37

  Bend, Oregon

  March 29

  It was shaping up to be a very busy day, and Detective Colson didn’t have time to waste. Back at her desk, she dialed the phone number at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta. She was greeted by a pleasant, feminine voice. “This is Dr. Zhong.”

  The detective introduced herself. “I’m calling with information that may be relevant to a case you were investigating at Warm Springs, Oregon.”

  “Still am,” Julia replied. “We’ve not officially closed the case, but I am skeptical we will find the source of the outbreak.”

  “Well, that’s the thing. I have a suspect in custody who may be responsible for contaminating bottled water that was donated to the tribal council.”

  “Let me guess—the bottled water was produced by Cascade Aqua?”

  “Yes. You seem to be familiar with the company.”

  “The case was brought to my attention by Peter Savage. I believe he lives in Bend.”

  “He does,” Colson said. “We’ve met.”

  “An interesting character, I’d say. Rather persistent. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Interesting is an understatement when describing Mr. Savage. Anyway, please go on.”

  “He was advocating a theory that the virus was introduced through bottled water from Cascade Aqua. Trouble is, we couldn’t recover any samples of the manufacturing lot representing the donated water. All the bottles we were able to find in grocery stores were from different lots, and they all tested negative for any harmful pathogens.”

  “I have the CEO of Cascade Aqua in custody. His name is Darnell Price. Ever heard of him?”

  “No, not that I recall.”

  “He’s shared some interesting information under questioning.”

  “Really?” The surprise was evident in Julia’s voice.

  “I’ll come back to him in a minute. First, I’d be interested to hear what you think. You’re the expert.”

  “Let me tell you what I know. It was definitely a virus that infected the people at Warm Springs. But my team has been unable to find the source of the virus, and the cases of new infections ceased as abruptly as they started. This would be consistent with a transient source of the virus, rather than a persistent cause.”

  “So you think it could be a specific lot of bottled water that introduced the virus?”

  “That would be consistent with these facts, yes. However, few viruses that infect humans are transmitted through contaminated water. Those that are, such as hepatitis, result in much different symptoms. The cases we examined involved symptoms similar to mumps, but not identical.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Colson said. “Are you saying that this is a new virus? Something that you haven’t seen before?”

  “Yes. We’ve isolated the virus from blood samples taken from the patients and have been studying it in detail. Preliminary results from the gene sequencing are fascinating and suggest a new virus that has traits found in mumps, HIV, and hepatitis. That’s why this case is still open. I suspect we will be studying this for years to come.”

  “Is the virus fatal?”

  “No, we don’t think so. But it does target the human lymphatic system, with a proclivity to target the testes. The infection is severe, and based on similarity to the mumps, we believe sterilization of infected males is highly probable.”

  “Why only for males who are infected?”

  “Well, that’s one of the fascinating aspects of this virus. By blending select base sequences from three unrelated viruses—mumps, HIV, and hepatitis C—this new pathogen has acquired a measure of stability in water and it selectively targets the male reproductive system.”

  “Where do you think this virus came from? Could it be from a natural source, you know, a mutation or something?”

  “Doubtful,” Julia said. “The fact that this virus is a combination of genetic sequences known from other viruses suggests that it was engineered in the laboratory. What has your susp
ect shared about his source of the agent?”

  “He says it was manufactured at a biolab in Eugene named Utopian-Bio. Cascade Aqua is also located in Eugene. According to Mr. Price, the lab specifically engineered the characteristics you described into the virus.”

  “Have you contacted the Eugene police yet?”

  “No. I wanted to speak with you first.” She decided not to offer the theory of crooked officers on the Eugene police force.

  “I’m going to elevate this to the FBI and Homeland Security as a possible terrorist threat. Sometimes they jump on these threats right away, other times the agents require more evidence before they take it seriously. Just depends on who you talk to. So, I suggest you call local law enforcement immediately and see if they can get a warrant and search both the lab and the bottling line. If there is any physical evidence, it needs to be secured.”

  “We’re still questioning Mr. Price, and I’m not sure I want to contact the Eugene PD, not yet. I’d have to transfer Mr. Price into their custody. My boss may not agree that is the right move just yet.”

  “If this is an interjurisdictional squabble, I suggest you and your boss get over it. There’s a lot at stake, and time is of the essence.”

  “Relax, Dr. Zhong. This isn’t the CDC and we have our own way of doing things. I’m just glad we caught this in time.”

  “Don’t let your guard down. Mr. Price may control one piece of the overall plot, but there is still the question of who manufactured the virus, and can they move that operation to another, unknown facility. The threat still exists until the source of the virus is removed.”

  “You’re working on a vaccine, right? Just to be safe?”

  “I wish it were that simple, detective. Vaccines usually require years to develop, and even then, in some cases, we aren’t successful. That’s one of the reasons we’re concerned about this particular virus.”

  “I don’t understand,” Colson replied.