Stillness

by Eldon Farrell

  “That’s about the gist of it. So consider if Jacob actually did kill the Sullivan’s then who else would have a better motive for keeping the case closed?”

  Thinking aloud Lynne says, “Does Jacob really have a motive though? He wasn’t convicted years ago and double jeopardy would protect him now.”

  “No it wouldn’t,” Caleb smiles knowingly “He wasn’t found not guilty—the charges were dropped! Double jeopardy doesn’t apply.”

  Realizing that he’s right Lynne says, “Well then I guess he’s got a motive.”

  “And the best part is,” Caleb explains, “Castle would’ve known—as the reporter—that Sullivan was in jail. There doesn’t have to be a link between the local police and the mastermind if Castle is the mastermind.”

  “I don’t know,” Lynne begins, “Not to play devil’s advocate but, I think you’re still missing something.”

  “What can I say Lynne, you’re right again. I can reasonably connect Castle to Sullivan, but as yet I can’t connect him to Markov. When the evidence was planted, Nikolai had yet to be identified as the body found in the cave.”

  “So whoever planted the evidence did so before Nikolai was connected to the outbreak, meaning they knew him personally.”

  Touching his finger to his nose Caleb nods at her. “So Castle may not be the mastermind, but I’d bet my pension on him being involved.”

  Lynne looks from Caleb to the open folder on her desk then back to Caleb. She’s thinking about just how much information she should share, then decides that since he took her into his confidence, she’ll do the same.

  In for a penny, in for a pound.

  “The riot that just happened was started mainly by the publication of an untrue and undocumented story on flu vaccines. The story was written by Jacob Castle.”

  Nodding Caleb says, “There’s a copy of it in his file.”

  Leaning over she motions for Caleb to come closer and lowers her voice to just above a whisper.

  “After the story ran I realized that there had to be a leak among those who attended the status meeting where Wendy Rojas put forth the suspected connection to the flu vaccine. What if the connection between Jacob and Nikolai was at that meeting?”

  “I thought you didn’t believe Nikolai was a terrorist?”

  “I don’t,” Lynne beams, “And I don’t think this is bioterrorism either. But something is definitely going on here.”

  She absently begins to flip through William Sullivan’s file when she comes across his mug shot. The color drains from her face as recognition dawns on her. It’s like the stopper in a dam has been pulled—allowing the full force of her dream to flood into her consciousness.

  “Omigod,” she breathes.

  “Lynne,” his voice full of concern Caleb asks, “What is it?”

  “I remember,” she points at the mug shot. “He was in my dream but I didn’t know who he was.”

  “You must have seen him somewhere before.”

  Ignoring the comment, Lynne continues describing her newly recovered dream memory. “He gave me a shovel and told me to dig for the truth. Then…”

  She shudders at the recollection of the skeletons and dissolving flesh. Lowering her gaze she places her hands on top of her head whispering “Peccavi.”

  “Peccavi,” Caleb repeats “Guilty conscience?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s Latin for ‘I have sinned’.”

  Not knowing what to say, Lynne shakes her head and reveals the rest of her vivid dream to him. When she tells him of the connection to four stars, Caleb blanches and she asks, “What is it?”

  Reaching for the folder he leafs through it silently until he finds a copy of the Stillness Sound. Pointing to the stylized font of the heading at the top of the page he shows her the four stars that rest underneath.

  Both of them stare at each other unsure what to make of this development. Finally Caleb asks, “You said you had another meeting when I got here, you mind if I tag along and see what I can find out?”

  Looking at the clock on the wall she realizes that she’s late. Standing she says, “Come on.”

  “Sorry I’m late,” Lynne says as she hurries into the conference room and takes a seat at the table. The now familiar television screens are setup at the opposite end of the table, with Danny Gordon between them and her.

  All eyes focus on Caleb Fine as he follows her into the room. “This is Special Agent Caleb Fine with the FBI,” Lynne introduces him, “I invited him to sit in on this briefing.”

  Caleb takes the seat across from Danny as Lynne asks, “Where’s Henry?”

  “On the ward,” Danny answers.

  “And Rahlings?” she asks pointing at the darkened screen that should be showing the NIAID.

  Danny looks away from her deferring to Roger in Atlanta. “You were late and Chris didn’t want to wait for the information. It was weird though, as soon as he heard the results he…he just left.”

  Closing her eyes Lynne’s afraid to ask the question but does anyway. “You finished the DNA sequencing?”

  She notices the apprehensive look between Wendy and Roger before he replies, “We did. We found something Lynne.”

  She examines the faces around her who have already heard what she’s about to hear and can tell from their expressions that she’s not going to like what Roger has to say.

  “DNA sequencing revealed the presence of restriction enzymes and DNA ligase.”

  Looking over at Lynne, Caleb can tell that she’s crestfallen at this news. “Excuse me for asking,” he speaks up, “But what exactly does that mean?”

  Turning to him Lynne explains, “Restriction enzymes and DNA ligase are used in recombinant technology. They’re modifying enzymes. DNA ligase can join two pieces of DNA together while restriction enzymes have the ability to cut DNA at sequence-specific sites.

  “These enzymes are isolated from bacteria and while the transfection could’ve occurred naturally, I’m guessing from the mood of the room, that’s not what happened this time.”

  “I’m sorry, transfection?”

  “In nature, bacteria are constantly coming across one another. When this happens, a lot of the time bits of genetic material are exchanged between them. It is how for example, a bacterium can become resistant to antibiotics.”

  Seeing the blank faraway stare in Caleb’s eyes, Lynne smiles saying, “Let’s take a common bacterium, say Staphylococcus aureus, at some point it comes across another bacterium that houses a resistance gene to the drug Methicillin.

  “The Staph bug would say, hey this is something useful to have and it would swap bits of DNA with the other bug to acquire resistance to Methicillin. When this happens it is called transfection.

  “If it happens naturally—which as I said happens all the time—it’s called passive diffusion. Of course, it can also happen in a lab, cutting to the very heart of bioterrorism.”

  Turning to Roger she asks, “So what was inserted in the sequence?”

  Wendy punches a few buttons on her keyboard switching the screen image from their office in Atlanta to a photograph of a genetic sequence.

  Roger’s voice commands the room’s attention. “What you’re looking at is the documented gene sequence for Yersinia pestis. Now, take a look at what we mapped.”

  The screen changes to another photograph of a fractionated agarose gel—the medium used to display the results of a polymerase chain reaction.

  Though the difference between the two photos is minor the trained eye can spot it immediately. The screen changes again to display both photos top to bottom highlighting the spot where the sequence differs.

  “A bacteriophage was inserted.” Roger declares as the screen switches back to the CDC office in Atlanta.

  “What kind?” Lynne asks.

  “Lambda genome,” Wendy speaks up, “And as soon as Rahlings heard that he split.”

  “Excuse me,” Caleb says rubbing his head, “Can we back up for a moment
. What is a bacteriophage?”

  “A virus that infects bacteria,” Danny answers.

  “Whoa,” Caleb raises his hands in front of him, palms open. “Are you telling me that bacteria can get…sick?”

  “Essentially…yes they can.” Roger explains, “A bacteriophage will infect a bacterium in much the same way a virus infects any other type of cell. Without going into too much detail, they are naturally occurring and are also at the forefront of many types of gene therapy.”

  “Which is why finding one points to bioterrorism?” Caleb ventures cautiously.

  “Well,” Roger answers, “It’s not completely that cut and dry—”

  “When is it ever with you guys,” Caleb jibes.

  “But,” Roger finishes, “It is highly suggestive.”

  “And what about the lamb genome?”

  “Lambda genome,” Lynne corrects him. “A lambda genome is a type of bacteriophage that consists of double stranded linear DNA of roughly 40 kilo base pairs. It’s much larger than a typical plasmid and offers the advantage of having it’s DNA stripped out and replaced with foreign DNA without sacrificing the phage’s ability to infect bacteria.”

  “Which has happened here,” Wendy begins, “We looked at the lambda genome but so far…”

  She trails off looking over at Roger who rubbing his finger along his upper lip divulges, “So far we can’t say what the inserted genes do.”

  “What do you mean?” Danny asks in a disbelieving tone, “You have to have some idea what they do.”

  “They do nothing,” Roger admits, “Our research shows that these particular genes are harmless.”

  “Who would go to all the trouble of inserting genes that don’t do anything?”

  Staring at Caleb, Roger shrugs his shoulders saying, “You see the problem we’re faced with then?”

  “Well maybe,” Caleb offers “The harmless genes were inserted naturally? Maybe Lynne’s right about this not being bioterrorism?”

  “’Fraid not,” Wendy answers, “One of the inserted genes was synthetic. We may not know what it does, but we know it’s not found in nature.”

  Ever the cop, Caleb steers the conversation away from talk of science towards ground that he feels more comfortable on. “Then we’re under attack?”

  Roger glances at Wendy beside him before exchanging a look with Lynne. It reveals years of familiarity between them and conveys Roger’s sorrow over what he has to say. He knows how strongly Lynne fought this fight and wishes that she could’ve been on the winning side. He knows all too well from experience what being on the losing side means and fears that it will haunt her for some time.

  But he has no choice and grudgingly admits, “The official CDC finding is that this outbreak does not have a natural cause.”

  “Any leads on who would do this?”

  “We’re looking at this as an act of domestic terrorism as opposed to the result of any foreign aggression.”

  “Why is that?” Danny asks before Caleb has the chance to.

  “The restriction enzymes used were patented 17 years ago right here in the United States by USAMRIID.”

  All eyes turn to General Alex Cummings who has for the entire meeting so far remained stoically silent. Clearing his throat he replies, “USAMRIID holds many patents in this area. Many of our patented enzymes are available to labs worldwide on the internet. I fail to see how their use here points to a domestic connection.”

  “What do you know about recombinant genetics General?” Wendy asks.

  “I’m not completely naïve on the subject.”

  “When a geneticist inserts a foreign gene into a genome, the type of enzyme they use leaves behind a trace signature. Like any signature, it sets the geneticist apart. The signature we found here doesn’t match any foreign signatures we’ve seen before. It matches to the American practice of genetics.”

  “So you can tell who did this?”

  “Not exactly Agent Fine,” Wendy explains, “The signature is broader than that. It doesn’t specifically identify any one person, it just denotes where they were trained in their craft. The person behind this outbreak was trained in the United States.”

  Glaring at the monitor and General Cummings, Wendy pointedly declares “At Fort Detrick.”

  The General remains silent as the obvious accusation hangs in the air of the meeting. Finally he nonchalantly responds, “Dr. Rojas, we have trained many geneticists over the years. Just what are you implying?”

  Raising his hand to stall what he knows is part of Wendy’s fiery temper; Roger interjects “No one is implying anything General. We simply know that this is not the result of foreign interests. If you could investigate your past employees for anyone you think might be involved in this, it would be appreciated.”

  “I’ll have my people get right on it.”

  Turning his attention back to Lynne, Roger plows forward with the task that he’s been dreading having to do. “Lynne, I’m sorry about this but Josh Fisher is on his way there to assume control of this investigation.”

  She is silent under the weight of his rebuke. Danny and Caleb both look from her to Roger with surprise etched on their faces.

  Finally Lynne glares at Roger asking, “Why am I being removed? Because I was wrong?”

  “No…not because you were wrong.” Roger’s voice betrays the empathy he feels for her as he says, “My opinion was overruled. Those above me feel that you won’t get behind the bioterrorism explanation and that the public interest would be better served by a more experienced agent.”

  “Am I to return to Atlanta?” she asks in a barely audible whisper.

  Shaking his head Roger answers, “You’re still part of this investigation Lynne. You’re just no longer heading it. I’m sure that you will be of a great help to Josh.”

  Her anger simmering just beneath the surface of her skin, Lynne demands to know “Is the Warden behind this?”

  After a moment of looking into her eyes and feeling her hurt and embarrassment, Roger answers “Yes, Larry was one of your detractors Lynne. Try not to take this personally.”

  “How else is she supposed to take it?” Caleb speaks up, “You ask me it sounds like political bullshit and nothing more.”

  Lynne casts a sideways glance at him—surprised to have him come to her defense. Wendy, she notices, is also looking admiringly at her defender.

  “We’ll talk again later,” Roger says as he disconnects the feed. Lynne can see the hint of a grin at the corners of his mouth and knows that he did everything he could for her.

  With the meeting over and the feeds down, Danny places a hand on Lynne’s shoulder saying sorry before he leaves the room.

  Still sitting Caleb asks, “What are you going to do now?”

  With her face a mask of concentration she answers, “The kill curves.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The lab never found any evidence of antibiotic resistance in the bacteria and yet antibiotics have been nearly useless. I’m willing to bet it has something to do with the lambda bacteriophage.

  “As long as I’m here, I’m going to do my best to help those sick and dying patients.”

  Smiling at her he reaches across the table and rests his hand on top of hers. “You’re amazing Lynne and clearly your bosses haven’t realized that yet. A loss—by the way—that is entirely theirs.”

  “Thanks,” she looks at him and not for the first time realizes just how nice he is to look at. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to pay Mr. Castle a little visit. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Chapter 38

  Pulling off to the side of the road Eric Lydekker twists the key in the ignition, turning off the SUV. The night surrounding him is quiet allowing him to hear the hushed ticks of his cooling engine.

  He’s parked out on the 4th Line about a mile past the railroad tracks. Farmers’ fields stretch out around him on both sides of the road.

  Stepping out of the SUV he liste
ns for any sound of movement. A murder of crows caws back and forth at one another before taking off. Their black forms fill the night sky over the field to his right.

  He’s all alone out here.

  Grabbing his cell phone he punches in the number he came out here to call. Normally he’d call this number from the facility, but these are not normal circumstances and he wants to make sure no ears are listening.

  The call is answered and he says, “It’s me.”

  The voice on the other end of the line replies, “You sound short. What’s wrong?”

  “Your protégé.”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s been asking questions,” Eric explains “He’s been in the archives…looking. He knows about Wellesley.”

  “If he knows about Wellesley it’s not from the archives,” the voice declares confidently. “Unless, that is, someone didn’t do their job properly.”

  “I did the job. There’s nothing in the archives about Wellesley.”

  “Then what’s the problem with him looking there?”

  Sighing heavily Eric bites his lower lip violently, drawing a drop of blood. “Tesla told him about Wellesley. He led him to the archives and your protégé has put enough of the facts together to cause me alarm.”

  “Well,” the voice calmly states, “I never did hire stupid people. How close is he to finding out the truth?”

  “Too close.” Eric casts a glance around the countryside saying, “Let me take care of him.”

  “You never did like him, did you?”

  “You know I don’t,” Eric complains, “He’s got no place in this. He’s a goddamn Muslim and his lot should never be trusted.”

  “Ah,” the voice replies, “But you’ve never been able to grasp the bigger picture. He serves a very important purpose.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “And you’d do well to start listening.” The voice’s inflection hardens. “I’m not ready to forfeit his purpose yet. Do nothing to him. I’ll handle him myself.”

  This has to end soon.

  Dr. Henry Abbot checks the chart of another new patient just admitted to the isolation of Centennial School. All around him the facility is pushed to the brink with overcrowding.