CHAPTER 23

DAY 3
5:00 A.M. (EST)

Griff was the last person to pass through the airlock. He came through naked, but rather than feel self-conscious, his thoughts were keyed on the seven hundred people imprisoned in the building he was leaving. This was already hell for many of them.

It was going to get much worse.

He reflected on the remorselessness of Genesis, whoever they were. Death at power stations in New York. Death in a museum in San Diego. Death in a public garden in D.C. And now, death on a truly grand scale. His own passions ran deep in many areas, but none were even close to being intense enough to kill for. He could intellectualize terrorism, but he had never really been able to understand it.

And now, he had been placed squarely in the path of the extremists to whom cause was everything and killing was nothing. Even if he somehow managed to survive, even if it all came together for him in Kalvesta, Genesis might be damaged, but their hatred and their cause would endure. They would come up with something else. Some new demonstration of their commitment and resolve to accomplish—to accomplish what?

And along the way, more people would die.

The best he could hope for was to stay alive and try to disrupt their plan … this time.

Griff stepped onto the waiting train and Angie, facing away, handed him a towel and a set of hospital scrubs.

“We’re going to have to get some meat back on those bones, Doc.”

“You peeked. Well, I did yoga and calisthenics almost every day while I was locked up in solitary, but I guess my equation for staying in shape was missing useful nutrition.”

“When we get to Kansas, I’ll handle the cooking. For the past few years I’ve been on a Chinese kick. You’ll love it. There’s more calories in those bean sprouts than you think.”

“There were times when I considered chowing down on one of the guards.”

“Ugh!” She made room for him on the bench next to her, and instantly he felt stirred by her closeness. “Griff, tell me something,” she said. “Given the status of your research when they arrested you, do you think you can do this?”

“I was getting pretty close to something useful. That may be why they came after me. But at best, what we’re facing is a long shot. I’ve been running through some hypothetical figures while I was waiting for the shower. I came up with a two percent chance of solving the design problems that were there when the militia came and hauled me away.”

“Two percent doesn’t sound like much.”

“Okay, make it three. I’ll be restarting cultures from the blood samples in those containers. In addition, Allaire said he was having a line of the virus flown up from the CDC, where they have it in storage.”

“When you come up with something, I’m going to have one hell of a story.”

“When you get started beefing me up with your cooking, be sure to stir in some of your optimism.”

The team was relieved to be free from the biocontainment suits—especially, it appeared to Griff, those who finally got to cradle their assault weapons in ungloved hands.

“We’re ready to roll,” Sergeant Stafford radioed in.

Moments later, the fiber-optic backbone controlling the Automatic Vehicle Operation engaged, and the fully enclosed trolley moved silently ahead. The car came to a gentle stop at the Rayburn building subway station, and the doors swooshed open.

“I’ve never been to Kansas,” Angie said.

“Just imagine Lake Victoria in Kenya, and the lush jungle surrounding it, and the cries of countless wild beasts, and then flip the scene over to the reverse side.”

Stafford and the other soldiers surrounded Griff and Angie and led them through a maze of corridors and stairwells on their way to the surface. Once outside, Griff took a grateful breath of the cool, early morning air, and held it until he needed to exhale.

The Capitol was to the north of them now. Even from a distance, Griff could tell that the crowd levels outside the barriers had increased substantially, as had the military presence maintaining some semblance of order. There were three ten-person vans waiting with their engines running. The vans had black tinted windows and Griff assumed they were bulletproof, too.

“How many are coming with us?” Griff asked Stafford.

“Eight.”

“That’s a lot of vans for eight people.”

“Two are decoys. Let’s go. Move it.”

The side doors to one of the vans slid open and Griff and Angie were the first inside. One of the soldiers carelessly swung Griff one of the refrigerated cases containing the blood samples.

“Easy with that!” Griff admonished the man. “Unless you want to be responsible for finding out just how dangerous these bugs really are.”

The solider just grunted and continued loading gear into the van. There was heat in the van, but not enough to enable Griff and Angie to remove their camouflage field jackets. Angie slid in beside Griff and pressed her body against his. He took hold of her hand. She glanced at him curiously, but made no attempt to pull away.

“I heard Allaire mention something about a second team working in tandem,” she said. “Is that true?”

“We’re not exactly working in an atmosphere of mutual trust, as the guardians, here, will attest. There’s a Bio Level Four facility in Alaska someplace. Allaire has enlisted my assistant, Mel Forbush, to set up a data-sharing network between us. As long as they don’t slow me down, it won’t be an issue.”

“Thank you for asking them to send me with you.”

“I don’t trust Allaire to keep his word, and he doesn’t trust me not to bolt. You’re like the proctor.”

The last soldier stepped inside and the van door slammed shut. Stafford sat in the front passenger seat, his radio pressed to his lips.

“We’re moving,” Stafford said. “Launch the birds.”

He lifted a pair of high-powered night-vision binoculars to his face.

Griff felt suddenly edgy.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Angie seemed to sense it too. Her grip on his hand tightened.

Stafford passed the binoculars back.

“What am I looking for?” Angie asked.

“The doctor’s decoy,” Stafford said.

“My what?”

“Griff, he’s right,” Angie said, as she fiddled with the focus. “There’s a man, thin, bearded. I can just make him out getting into a helicopter.”

“What are you talking about?”

The driver shifted the van into gear and the quick acceleration pushed Griff back into his seat. They were headed toward Canal Street. The two other vans split off and headed in opposite directions on C Street. Griff stiffened. He did not need binoculars to see the black silhouette of the chopper, rising above the treetops after takeoff.

“Stafford, what in the hell is going on?”

“President’s order,” Stafford said. “We use this protocol or something like it to protect him. Now it’s been instituted to protect you. When it comes to saving the country we don’t leave things to chance.”

Barely able to breathe, Griff kept his gaze locked on the helicopter as it grew smaller on the horizon. Suddenly, a trail of fire burst into view, seemingly from out of nowhere, and began to chase the climbing chopper.

“God, no!” Griff whispered. “No!!”

He screamed the word.

There was an explosion, and a patch of dark morning sky erupted into a bright ball of fire. The van shook from the force of the explosion. Griff watched through the window as fiery pieces from the helicopter fell to earth like meteorites.