“If I were able to effect change,” the vice president said, “if I were ever to become president, I would never unfairly target pharmaceutical firms or the important work they do in improving the life and health of the American people.”
So.
Yes.
Cyrus had what he’d come here for. The reassurance that the VP would promote legislation that was in line with RixoTray’s goals.
“If you were ever to become president.”
Vice President Pinder looked at him knowingly, said in his eyes much more than he said with his words: “If that were ever to happen. Yes.”
Cyrus rose, warmly thanked the vice president for his time and his cognac.
“Have a safe flight back to Philadelphia,” Vice President Pinder said as they were walking toward the door. “I hope we’ll be able to speak again soon.”
“I’m confident that we will.”
Riah got the call from Daniel sooner than she thought she would. He asked her to meet him and his brother at 10:45 just off the I-76 Belmont Avenue/Green Lane exit. “Darren will call you with the exact location as soon as possible. Bring everything you’ll need.”
“I will.”
And then she began to gather her things.
Departure
Our hulking escort leads us to Dr. Riah Colette’s office and announces that we’re from the FDA and would like to speak to her. She appraises us, notices the official-looking documents attached to our clipboards, invites us into her office, and closes the door.
Gotta love those clipboards.
Her purse is on the desk. Her car keys and folded-up laptop beside it. Either she’s just arriving or she’s on her way out. But if she was following the schedule Fionna had pulled up earlier, I knew that Dr. Colette was not just coming in to work.
“My name is Jevin Banks.” Time for the truth all the way around. “This is Charlene Antioch.”
“Dr. Riah Colette.” She’s an attractive woman, dressed respectively but not pretentiously. She doesn’t look the least bit intimidated to see us or to have heard from the guard that we’re inspectors from the FDA. I have the sense that most people in her position would, at least to some degree, be nervous or defensive. Not her. She doesn’t ask why we’re here or how she might help us.
How to do this.
Don’t jump into talking about an assassination conspiracy. Find out what you can first. Find out if she’s involved.
“We have a few questions,” I tell her, “and we think you’re the right person to answer them.”
“I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have an appointment I need to be preparing for. Perhaps you could talk with one of my assistants?”
Charlene speaks up. “It really needs to be you, I’m afraid.”
“What is it concerning? Exactly?”
I take a breath. “The twins.”
She gazes at Charlene, then at me.
“You’re not from the FDA.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“No, we’re not. Yesterday at the Lawson Research Center in Oregon, we were investigating Dr. Tanbyrn’s research for a television documentary. A man named Glenn Banner started the building on fire. We barely escaped. Dr. Tanbyrn got out with us, but died this morning from complications caused by smoke inhalation.”
She takes a seat on the edge of her desk.
“I had not heard that.”
I don’t detect any sense of loss in her words, but there’s no coldness either. It’s as if the news is informative to her, that she’s acknowledging how tragic it is but isn’t in the place right now where she’s ready to mourn for the dead doctor.
Charlene lowers her voice. “A woman was also killed in the fire. One of Tanbyrn’s research assistants.”
Dr. Colette is quiet. “I’m not exactly sure how I can help you.”
From doing cold readings while emulating the tricks of professed psychics, I’d gotten good at reading people and I catch no sign that Dr. Colette isn’t being straight with us.
She isn’t involved. Trust her.
I go with my gut. “The man who started the fire, Glenn Banner, had been in touch with Dr. Arlington.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Banner’s cell phone. We know you’re in charge of the division that has a connection to Dr. Tanbyrn’s research. The Pentagon is involved as well.”
She studies me carefully. “You’re doing a documentary?”
“Right now we’re just concerned with stopping more people from being killed.”
A moment passes. “Is there anything else?”
Get to the assassination plot.
The twins.
“There’s a connection to the video that you, Dr. Arlington, Undersecretary of Defense Oriana Williamson, and the twins watched last night.”
“Well.” She seems more impressed than taken aback. “You have done your homework.”
Charlene steps forward. “Dr. Tanbyrn told us he was studying the negative aspects of the twins’ special abilities. His research points to using avenues of quantum entanglement to affect another person’s physiology in a negative manner.”
Dr. Colette doesn’t seem surprised by that. “Nonlocally.”
Man, she’s not hiding anything.
I nod. “Yes.”
“Anything else?”
The plot. Tell her what you suspect.
“The suicide bomber didn’t kill himself. He was shot by a sniper.” I take a stab at this, go for it: “We think the president of the United States might be the next target.”
“The president?”
“That’s right.”
“And why do you think that?”
I tell her about our line of reasoning about the telomerase research, Tanbyrn’s murder, the press release, the proposed legislation, the phrase the twins used about the eagle falling at the park, the Brennan Sacco email. The more I explained it, the more everything seems to fit together in a pattern of gossamer threads.
When I finish, rather than sticking to the topic of the potential assassination plot, surprisingly, Dr. Colette focuses instead on the footage in Kabul. “How do you know it was a sniper?”
I pull out my laptop. “I’ll show you.”
Dr. Cyrus Arlington was in the helicopter on his way to Philadelphia when he got the text from Caitlyn telling him that the police were waiting for him at the landing pad. “It has something to do with a man named Glenn Banner.”
Not a surprise.
He texted her back a word of thanks.
Then rehearsed what he would tell the officers about his relationship with the dead arsonist.
Riah carefully evaluated what the two people who’d been imitating FDA inspectors told her. They had all their facts straight, that much was true, but how could the enemy of the state mentioned by the twins be the president of the United States?
It wasn’t possible to tell for certain whether or not a sniper had been involved in detonating the suicide bomber’s vest in Kabul, but after reviewing the footage she had to admit that it was certainly possible.
The sniper might explain why the twins were so adamant that you help them.
But sniper or not, they had affected Adrian Goss’s neural processing abilities on their own, so the president could still be in danger. After all, what if they were able to do the same thing to one of the Secret Service agents guarding the president?
But some things just didn’t compute. Did the twins know that they’d been unsuccessful in Kabul? If there was a sniper, who hired him? The twins? Oriana? Cyrus?