After yet another circuit around the target, Tanner was about to suggest they break off — the same repetitive pattern for too long would also trigger increased scrutiny — when he caught a flash of something far out to sea. A glint of sunlight off glass, perhaps. He wasn’t sure, but once the flash attracted his eye, he could pick out the outline of a slow-moving vessel of some kind. He couldn’t yet discern its direction. It could be heading out to sea, or straight past the harbor. He couldn’t be sure, but since it was possible it could be headed their way, he decided to keep an eye on it. It did come from a somewhat unusual angle of approach, he noted — threading between the outlines of two distant islands, which kept it somewhat hidden from direct line-of-sight to the harbor. He gripped his handlebars as he rounded the yacht’s stern.
Liam waved to get his attention, wisely reminding him that they needed to break out of the pattern they’d been holding. Tanner looked out toward the bay and Liam aimed his craft in that direction. Time to leave the harbor for open water. They could check out the big, incoming vessel.
The mouth of the harbor was choppy where the bay water slacked out with the tide, and they had a bumpy ride through the chop out into the bay. They dodged a pair of racing sailboats before pointing their waverunners toward the slow craft Tanner had noticed.
Liam ramped off a sloppy swell made unpredictable by a passing boat wake and slammed head-on through another wave, his entire ski and body submerging for a few seconds as he passed through the swell. He shook his head like a dog shedding water after getting out of a pool and kept going, looking over at Tanner and giving him a thumbs up sign. A small crowd of people on a passing boat whooped and hollered, loving the show. Now that’s good tradecraft, Tanner thought, maintaining course with the mystery ship.
As they neared their vessel of interest Tanner could see that it was some kind of barge. Not rusty and decrepit looking, but simply a Spartan workhorse, plowing through the waves as if it had all day to get wherever it was going but would definitely get there. It wasn’t easy to tell for sure, bouncing around as he was on the ski, but he could see no persons aboard from this distance. He signaled to Liam to loop around the back of the ship, so that they could follow it from behind. Liam nodded and they raced out to sea.
Overhead, the sky buzzed with activity as Coast Guard choppers patrolled the skies, vying for airspace with media helicopters and police aircraft. Tanner knew that an SR-71 Blackbird fighter jet squadron was lurking in the clouds, ready to strike on a moment’s notice should an aerial threat to Carmichael’s yacht materialize. He and Liam could make a difference out here on the water, though, should danger rear its ugly head. At least he hoped so, as he led Liam into an arcing turn far behind the barge’s broad stern.
The number of boats thinned out here, but there were still large sailboats visible plying the island waters in the distance. Tanner scanned the waters to make sure he wasn’t ignoring some other suspicious vessel or even aircraft, but saw none. He wished the whine of the waverunner engines wasn’t so deafening, but there was nothing he could do about that other than to stop, which could also arouse suspicion.
He and Liam began following the barge in toward the harbor. Although the workboat kept a straight-as-an-arrow path, they were sure to keep up a series of carving, swerving turns as they followed the boat, so that to anyone watching they would look like a couple of guys having fun on their toys.
Before long they entered the harbor, by now having gotten used to the skis, Liam in particular really putting on a show, ramping off boat wakes in spectacular aerial displays, while Tanner tried some trick-riding of his own, standing with one hand on the handlebars while circling, having a good time for the benefit of all who might be watching.
Still, he couldn’t help but notice that the plodding barge inexorably continued its course toward the Lincoln, while the brunt of law enforcement was centered on the waterfront walkway, containing the fire, treating victims and bracing for possible further attacks. He waved an arm at Liam, indicating that they should close the distance to the barge. The two riders veered away from one another in a V pattern, into the harbor, closer to the barge. And the president’s yacht.
As Tanner passed by the starboard side of the barge’s stern, with the yacht in front of him and to his right, maybe an eighth of a mile, a blur of movement caught his left eye.
He eased back on the waverunner’s throttle just a bit in order to get a better look.
There!
What was a black streak had temporarily steadied before setting into motion again off the barge’s rail.
A tiny helicopter…but of course to Tanner, coming from a barge in close proximity to the President of the United States of America, this was no remote controlled kid’s toy.
It was a drone. A quadracopter — a simple helicopter consisting of a basic circular frame containing four rotors, the entire craft no more than a foot in diameter. He knew they could either be pre-programmed to follow a particular route, or remote controlled by a human operator. He also knew that they could carry specialized payloads, such as cameras, bombs…STX misters?!
A micro-drone.
FORTY-FIVE
“It’s been five minutes now and I’m still getting worse.” Jasmijn sat on a stool in front of the lab bench, watching the clock on the wall tick away her final remaining minutes. Her legs suddenly felt rubbery. She would have fallen from the stool if not for Dante and Stephen who moved quickly to hold her up.
“It just needs a little more time to take effect,” Naomi offered. She of course had no idea if this was true, but didn’t want Jasmijn to give up hope.
“No.” The scientist held her head in her hands. “Oh God, no. I remember now. It’s not going to work.”
The battle-hardened trio of operatives were taken aback to see Jasmijn so distraught.
“What is it?” Naomi put a hand on her shoulder.
“No,” she said, lifting her head and wiping away a string of tears. “It can’t work the way I did this last iteration. I realize now what I did wrong but I don’t have time to explain it to you.”
Stephen got down on one knee so that he could level his gaze right into her eyes.” Then don’t explain. Just do it. Make the next iteration.”
Jasmijn took a very deep breath and looked at the ceiling for a second. “I can prepare it. I can set it up and leave instructions to you as to how to complete it…”
She started to cry. “…but there won’t be enough time for me to use it. There are multiple stages — mix these two samples together, autoclave for twenty minutes, chill in the fridge for thirty minutes and so on. Over an hour prep time altogether. By then, I’ll be…” She broke down again.
“Stay with us, Jasmijn,” Nay said. “There’s no time to feel sorry for yourself.”
“Or to kick yourself for mistakes you might have made,” Dante added.
The scientist took another deep breath — or was it just a normal breath that was more labored than usual? “You’re right. Let me get to work. I’ll write out the instructions so that you will be able to cookbook it to completion. Then you just need to test it on a rat. Be extremely careful handling the STX–I’m spending my last remaining minutes trying to save people, not get more of them killed.”