Reprisal (30 page)

Paul stared at Joan. She refused to catch his eyes. He was furious. When they’d met, she hadn’t lied exactly, but certainly left out big chunks of what she knew. Paul forced himself to calm down. He’d deal with that problem later.

Dr. Samson continued, “Several things struck us as odd—the use of the medical mask. Of course, it could’ve been a disguise, but the killer used a respirator designed to prevent the spread of air borne contaminants. He wore glasses. We also found latex gloves, worn by the killer, at the crime scene. To prevent fingerprints? Maybe, but could they have been worn as a further protection against a contagious disease?”

“I still don’t see how this evidence is conclusive,” Valentini said.

“We agreed. Up to that point, the evidence was curious but not much more. For a while we stopped our investigation. We really didn’t know what else to do until we remembered an autopsy had been done on the victim. We contacted the Medical Examiner’s office here and obtained the records and specimens from the autopsy. When we viewed the tissue remains, we clearly saw the results of a Variola invasion.”

“What? You’re saying the victim had smallpox?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Dr. Samson answered. “So, the question became—if small pox doesn’t exist in the world, how did the young man contract it? Again, we were shocked but didn’t know where to turn.”

“Wouldn’t the victim infect others?” Conway said.

“Depends on the incubation period. Normally, it’s two weeks. It takes a while for the patient to be contagious. Maybe the young man was killed just before that point.”

“So, Doctor, where the hell does this leave us? And what can we do to help?” Conway crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs.

“Thanks to your agents, Bill, we just learned that some scientist was talking to young Somali men at the mosque.”

“You think he’s going to introduce smallpox?” Conway’s eyes opened wider. “We’re already tracking this guy and have the probable insertion point under constant surveillance. Well, it will be. But what I don’t get, is how’s he gonna do it?”

Dr. Samson shook his head. “We don’t know. Smallpox is highly adaptable to the human body and is considered to be the worst human disease. It’s estimated to have killed more people than any other infectious pathogen in history.”

People around the table shifted uncomfortably. Some looked into their coffee cups and drank. Murmurs bubbled around the room. Finally, Valentini spoke, “I don’t know … I mean, I’m not a doctor, but I remember the anthrax scare. Turned out to be a lot of fear and not much substance. How can this guy carry out such a plan?”

“You make an excellent point. Before an outbreak of smallpox could occur, two major problems must be overcome. One, the terrorist must get a hold of the Variola virus and be able to transport it. Until the theft in Russia, that hadn’t been accomplished by anyone that we know of, although we suspect several other countries have secret stockpiles they’ve purchased on the black market. Second, the person must develop a delivery method. That’s where we’re at now. Would they dump the virus in drinking water, drop a bomb of it on New York? To make it harder, the Variola virus can live outside the human body for up to several months. We’re wracking our brains trying to anticipate how a terrorist would deliver the virus.”

Conway’s assistant came into the room. He told her, “Get the director and notify the Strategic Information Operations Center in Washington.” She nodded and left immediately. Conway held up his hands. “Folks, let’s take a break to clear our heads. We need to all be at our best for this.”

Paul’s phone vibrated. “What’s up, Zehra? I’m very busy.”

“Sorry. I just wondered if you knew anything about a pair of latex gloves at the crime scene?”

“Uh … no,” he lied. “I’ve got lots of other problems. I can’t tell you much, but I want you to be careful. Stay away from Burnsville for the next few days.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We suspect uh … uh a problem may occur at the mosque there. Gotta run.” He clicked off.

As people wandered out of the room, Paul approached Joan. He cornered her near the window that looked out over downtown Minneapolis. He asked her, “Why? I realize you’ve got your secrets, stuff you can’t tell me, but this wasn’t a small item.”

“Paul, most of this is so highly classified. I couldn’t even write it in my own diary.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, whatever you believe, I was instructed to be careful with the intel.”

“But you were at the crime scene. Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because of the evidence we found.”

“Joan, this is bullshit.”

She interrupted him. “National security is all I can say.”

“I work for the god damn FBI! National security’s what we do, or did you forget? You knew how serious this case is to all of us.”

Joan sighed. “I’ve got my career to think of. If ICE busts this, I’m golden. I gave you the things I could give you.” She looked up at him. For a moment, her eyes softened. “Sorry. Shit happens.”

“I don’t …” Paul shook his head and turned away. Once again, ambition trumped cooperation and unfortunately, national security. Maybe now that everyone was literally in the same room, they could operate together. He walked away without saying another word.

Back at the conference table, many people had returned and sat in the chairs or stood. Valentini said, “I get how this works, Doc. But, do you really think it’s gonna be a problem? I mean, if smallpox has been eradicated, we can just snuff this out and we’re done, right?”

Dr. Samson’s eyes lifted slowly. He unwrapped a Snickers candy bar and took a big bite. He looked at his team grouped into one corner. He looked back at Valentini. “Agent, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the threat. You’d better sit down for this.”

Thirty-Six

Friday morning, Mustafa rushed from his second house to the mosque in the northern suburb. He knew the drop house had been discovered. He must move quickly now before the FBI found out any more.

Luckily, he had access to information through Zehra. He paused to think about her. In a different time and a different place, maybe she could have … he dismissed the thought abruptly. She would never submit to him as a faithful Muslim woman should.

For now, he must keep that channel open and pretend to be interested in her. He knew she had become suspicious. Mustafa planned to keep her fooled until the end. He’d dispose of her like the rest, a sacrifice she would make for Allah.

She had called him a few minutes ago with more valuable information. For some reason, Zehra also wanted the exact location of the school where they would go for the science fair tonight. Mustafa assured her that he would drive and return her home early. Her brazen questioning bothered him, but he’d been smart enough to let her talk. She revealed that she’d contacted the FBI. Mustafa learned they had discovered the southern mosque. If they had not already flooded the area, they would soon. Since Mustafa had worked at three mosques with three different groups of kids, it didn’t make any difference anyway. He wouldn’t be there.

Instead, the science fair would be crowded with hundreds of people.

Would Zehra inadvertently tell the FBI? Mustafa worried about the possibility, but she still did not connect him with anything of interest to the FBI. He was probably safe for now. That was why he had to keep her with him tonight—so he could control her movements and communication.

It would work perfectly.

He ran over the details. Because many of the private companies had such good relations with the schools, he was given free access to the building anytime he wanted it. Mustafa had purposely spent time wandering in the basement of his school to the point the maintenance people ignored him.

In twenty minutes, Mustafa pulled his Benz up to the faculty parking lot of Hiawatha High School. He got out, locked up, and hurried into the school. It was between classes, so the halls were full of students. Mustafa walked to the main office and checked in. The receptionist recognized him.

“Hey, Dr. A. Nice to see you again. Ready for tonight? I’m like, so excited to see all these projects.”

He nodded at the stupid woman and hurried past her with the ID she handed him. She deserved to be one of the first to go, he thought.

He had already made precautions to avoid exposure during the release. In addition, he’d already taken the vaccine that came with the package in order to immunize himself, just in case.

He walked to a long hallway at the end of the building and let himself through a door that led downstairs to the extensive spaces underneath the school. The area was used for storage mostly. Mustafa looked for the air ducts he’d found earlier. Although he’d gone over this many times, he would inspect it all again.

He reached a corner of the lower level directly below the classroom where he and his students would present their projects. He looked at the vents on the outer walls to make certain they were open and clear, as he did also with the return vents in the center walls.

Next, he went over to the air pump attached to the return vents. He flicked it on and went back upstairs. Today the room was not used, which was why Mustafa picked that one to have his students occupy tonight. He had unencumbered access now. Lighting a match, he held it in front of the vent and watched as the air pulled the flame down toward the basement. It would create a negative pressure condition in the room to assure the process worked efficiently and quickly.

Back in the basement, he shut off that pump and inspected the aerosolization device attached to the inflow air ducts from the air conditioning. He also turned on that pump. It hummed quietly. Mustafa repeated the match test upstairs and found air blowing hard out of the vents in the room.

He decided to launch it at precisely eight o’clock when he calculated the maximum number of visitors would be present.

He had personally devised the special equipment that would take the dried sample and vaporize it with just enough moisture to adhere to the respiratory tracts of the boys and every single one of the hundreds who would trudge through the classroom. Mustafa had designed it to release a prescribed amount for two hours—plenty of time and quantity to infect them all easily. And with the high concentrations, the incubation period in people would be considerably shortened.

The unsuspecting people would not smell anything or feel anything until the symptoms showed up in a few days. Even then, it would seem like the flu, and Mustafa doubted any doctor would know enough to make an accurate diagnosis—at least not quickly enough.

Back in their homes and schools, the people would be unbelievably hot and lethal. That was the key to the plan. By the time the authorities figured out what happened and where the epicenter was, the second transmission would have occurred. The supply of vaccine in the United States was inadequate for that stage of an epidemic, and it would be impossible for them to contain the spread. The multiplier effect would take care of everything else. Nothing devised by mankind could stop the explosion.

Mustafa felt his groin tighten at the prospect. To further protect himself, he would leave the country to view the carnage from afar. He detested suicide bombers as crude and limited in their effect. His way would shock the entire world. The casualties would be immense and would lead to mass chaos. It would bring about the kingdom of Allah in the heartland of the infidel.

He stopped and sat on a stool in the classroom to savor the moment. All the years, the planning, study, the double life he had led, the fools he had to pretend to enjoy, the enormous costs to obtain the samples, and the risks weighed on him. He felt sweat moisten his forehead. When he reached up to wipe it off, his hand trembled.

Almost all alone, he would bring the victory for Allah and revenge!

Thirty-Seven

While Valentini trudged back and forth in the conference room at FBI headquarters, Dr. Samson sat on the opposite side of the large table. He invited others to sit. Paul was too nervous. He wanted to catch every word. What was unfolding shocked him beyond anything he’d imagined. He hoped to God the scientists had some answers.

Dr. Samson had filled his coffee mug from the carafe in the corner. “We were talking about the technical difficulties facing a criminal. First, they’d have to obtain the virus, and they’d need the help of a scientist who understood how to deal with it. We assume that’s already been accomplished. Next, they’d need a vaccine to protect themselves and they’d need a delivery system.”

“Why not just drop a bomb?” Valentini asked.

“Maybe. In 1965 Army experts conducted secret field experiments to asses the country’s vulnerability to a smallpox attack. They ran the test at Washington’s National Airport where they fitted briefcases with small aerosol generators that sprayed a harmless fake, like the release from a bomb that had the same properties as smallpox. The results were disturbing—one out of every twelve people passing through the airport would have become infected, rapidly dispersing the contagious disease around the country.” He crumpled another Snickers wrapper and set in on the table. “It would be almost as bad as eating candy bars all the time,” he chuckled until he realized no one responded.