"If she's not out buying water right now, there's not much of a chance she'll get her hands on any," Darryl said.
"Then I'll buy it down here and drive it up to her. Easy fix," Cheryl said.
"I'll head out right now to buy the water."
"It sounds like some kind of terrorist attack to me. I think the whole Monchegorsk angle is fear mongering, though," Cheryl said, turning off the television.
"I don't know. It may not be that farfetched. I might know someone with inside information," Darryl said, wishing he hadn't made the statement.
"You're not calling him."
"If anyone knows, it'll be him. If they expect more attacks, we need to know."
His wife stared at him for five long seconds with an impassive face. Darryl didn't like seeing this face and could imagine the effect it would have on her staff or co-workers. She finally spoke to him.
"No requests or favors. Berg has two strikes against him at this point. One more and you're out."
"You mean he's out."
"I didn't misspeak. One more strike and you're out. Make sure to get a hold of Emily. She's on the other side of the country, but now you have me nervous," Cheryl said.
"I'll call her before I call Berg."
"Just hearing that name makes me cringe. I need to get moving here. I have a feeling we'll have more to discuss today than next year's curriculum and staffing levels. Keep me in the loop," Cheryl said and leaned over to kiss him goodbye.
"I will. Have a great day, my love," he said, returning the kiss.
His wife could be a real hard-ass at times, which was why he loved her even more. She'd set him straight a number of times, saving his ass from bad career moves and bad associations. The one bad habit she had never been able to break was his friendship with Karl Berg. They had a bond that could never be broken. Darryl walked through the kitchen into the den and opened one of his desk drawers, removing a "throwaway" cell phone. He dialed Berg's cell phone and waited. His friend answered on the third ring. Ten minutes later, Darryl Jackson called his wife and told her that he would take the day off and drive up to New Jersey to deliver their daughter as much bottled water as he could fit in their Suburban. He confirmed that Mount Arlington had experienced a terrorist attack on its water supply, but decided to omit the part about how the FBI and CIA couldn't account for fifty canisters of the same virus used to poison the city of Monchegorsk and turn it into a scene that would make George Romero jealous.
Chapter 19
Sharpe sat next to Mendoza at the head of a large conference table in the largest interior room attached to the NCTC's watch floor. The camera imbedded into the table transmitted a digital video feed of the two agents to the White House situation room, where their bright, smiling faces would be plastered on the largest flat-screen monitor available within sight of the president and most of his senior staff. To Sharpe's left, just out of camera view, sat O'Reilly, who would simultaneously transmit support media to another screen within the situation room. Ideally, she would display maps or diagrams that would provide a visual reinforcement of his talking points. They had discussed the synchronization of a few slides with his highlights immediately prior to the videoconference, but he wanted her to use her own judgment, which he trusted implicitly.
Then again, she hadn't been happy to hear about their illicit affair with General Sanderson's gang. He wouldn't be surprised to see his senior year high school portrait appear during the presentation, or much worse. O'Reilly's talent for data analysis was matched only by her proficiency with digital imaging software. He tried not to think of what might appear on the White House situation room screen if she was still as pissed off as she had been when Mendoza nearly had to drag her back into Sharpe's office. He'd hit the button to fog the windows like a panicky bank teller during a robbery, hoping that the windows were somewhat soundproof in addition to shatter resistant. He was pretty sure she would test all of those performance parameters after being pulled by her arm back in by Mendoza.
They all waited nervously, trying not to fidget or touch their faces. The director of FEMA, along with the Secretary of Homeland Security, provided an update regarding efforts to contain the poisoning of a portion of Morris County Municipal Utilities Authority's water supply system through the Mount Arlington pump station. Confirming what he already knew, FEMA's director explained how a critical error in Al Qaeda's target selection had likely spared them a major disaster. The Morris County Municipal Utilities Authority served as an indirect supplier of water to local water companies. None of the water that passed through their pump stations went directly to consumers. It was all stored in tanks owned by the townships or water companies, and subsequently piped to residents, creating a significant delay. CDC personnel, supported by state health officials, had been testing community water throughout the night and hadn't detected signs that the Zulu virus had been distributed. This had been a lucky break for Morris County residents. Their counterpart utilities provider in southern Morris County piped water directly to consumers. If the terrorists had chosen a pump station connected to the southern Morris County loop, they would be facing a catastrophe.
The president finally asked Director Shelby for an update regarding the Task Force's investigation. Joel Garrity, NCTC director, looked up from his terminal at the other end of the table. The technician next to him nodded, which prompted Garrity to give Sharpe a thumbs-up. They were live.
"Mr. President, Deputy Assistant Director Ryan Sharpe will brief us on Task Force Scorpion's progress. Agent Sharpe, you have the floor."
"You can skip all of the formalities, Agent Sharpe. This is a brass tacks meeting," the president said. "Where do we stand?"
"Yes, sir. Shortly after midnight, Hamid Muhammad, the Imam with known ties to at least three of the terrorist cells assassinated yesterday, escaped from a site under active and direct FBI surveillance. He may have been abducted. The disappearance was timed with a sophisticated cyber attack on FBI computer equipment at the stakeout site."
"He's gone? How could he have escaped?" demanded Jacob Remy, White House chief of staff.
"I'll get to that very shortly, sir. The good news is that we received an anonymous tip a few hours later that led to the apprehension of the last terrorist cell. They were hiding out in an apartment on the edge of a well-established Muslim community in Bayonne, New Jersey. We recovered four virus canisters from this site. This still leaves fifty canisters unaccounted for, but given the intelligence provided to us by the CIA, these were the last canisters in Al Qaeda's possession. We can now focus our investigation on the domestic terror network, True America. As you know, we've identified one of the previous evening's murderers as Julius Grimes, a known True America militant."
"You still haven't answered my question, Agent Sharpe," Remy insisted.
"I apologize, sir. One of the cell phones recovered in Bayonne showed calls to a landline inside an Arab market in Brooklyn. The market is located on Coney Island Avenue, Kensington. This is one of the biggest Muslim communities in the tri-state area. We're putting this site under surveillance as we speak. The calls were placed yesterday, prior to noon prayer. We think someone at the market coordinated the pedestrian delivery of a message to the Imam, who was hiding in the mosque at the time."
"The Imam was hiding in his own mosque, and you lost him? I think it's time for a sweeping look at FBI surveillance procedures. I can't believe this!" Remy fumed.