“Oklahoma,” Eric prompted. “Does that help?”
Oklahoma? That sounded right, somehow, but the details eluded him. “Guys, I don’t remember. What happened in Oklahoma?”
“The bombing,” Deion said. “You don’t remember Oklahoma? McVeigh? The Murrah building?”
“Sure, I remember now. A bombing.”
A cool spring day. Had he seen it on television? Yes. He remembered his classroom in Pasadena and how Mr. Henry wheeled a metal cart with a television into the classroom and soberly explained that a federal building had been bombed. “I was in school. We watched it on the news.”
“Right,” Eric said. “That was ammonium nitrate. Just like this. Ring a bell?”
“Vaguely.”
“It was probably the same thing they used in the IED that hit your convoy in Iraq. They also used it in the Red Cross bombing.”
The IED happened so fast. A pile of debris on the side of a dusty road, so familiar, they had passed a million just like it, the heat beating on them, making it hard to concentrate, the fear and the sweat and the dust covering them. The smell of garbage was everywhere and they just wanted to finish their patrol, head back to base, get some chow in the mess, and get back to their air-conditioned tent.
“John?” Eric asked, breaking his reverie. “The Red Cross bombing?”
The memory faded and he stared at Eric blankly. “The Red Cross bombing?” he asked, softly. “I don’t know.”
“Virginia. Someone blew up the Red Cross building? How do you forget that?” Deion asked.
Eric shot a dark glance at Deion. “Are you sure you’re not having any side effects from the concussion?”
“No,” he said. “I mean, I don’t have nightmares anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No side effects at all?”
“Sometimes I get a little foggy,” he admitted.
“Maybe we’ll have Doc Barnwell check you one more time,” Eric said. “Just to be sure.”
“I’m fine,” he protested. “Have I done anything to let you down?”
Deion smiled. “You’re good, man. You know how Eric is, he’s nervous in the service.”
“This isn’t a joke,” Eric said. He turned his glare to John. “We’ve put a lot into you, John. Another checkup won’t kill you.”
John nodded. “Whatever you say, Eric.”
Nancy leaned back in Eric’s chair. “What does he remember?” she asked.
Eric gave Deion a sidelong glance. “He doesn’t remember anything.”
“The memory overlay is holding,” Deion agreed. “Frankly, I’m surprised.”
Eric shook his head. “You still don’t like him, do you?”
“Hell, no, man. I try to put it out of my mind, but it’s a hard thing to forget. How can I trust him? How can you trust him?”
“Good question,” Nancy said. “How can you trust him?”
“I put it out of my mind,” Eric said. “I treat him like a recruit. He performs his job. I encourage him. I haven’t forgotten what he did but I don’t have the luxury of doubt. He can’t second-guess himself. Or us. For this to work, he has to believe in the mission. I have to believe in him. To be honest, I kind of like the man he is now.”
Nancy’s face went blank. “How so?”
Eric sighed to himself. He had planned to breach this with her in a more private conversation, but it was too late for that. “If he hadn’t been in that Humvee, if he’d finished his tour, he would have come back, and yeah, maybe he would have struggled. But sooner or later he would have found some job, maybe a girl-”
“That’s a lot of shit,” Deion interrupted. “He grew up without friends, and when he finally did make them, it was with the guys that died in that Humvee. No, he was off, even before the IED. If he hadn’t gotten hit, he would have come back to the states and worked a dead end job until he snapped.”
Eric shrugged. “Sorry, but I can’t think that. I have to believe in him. If he goes sideways, then I’ll deal with it.”
Nancy took a hard swig of her coffee, watching him over the top of her mug. “You can put him down?”
He leaned back in his chair. “That’s the job.”
She eyed him warily. “You always do the job, don’t you?”
He shrugged.
“He ever tell you how he got the call-sign Steeljaw?” Deion asked
“No,” Nancy said. “I don’t believe I’ve heard that one.”
The last thing he needed was Deion telling that story. “Let it go, Deion.”
Deion grinned. “Whatever you say, man.”
“Look,” Nancy said. “Your little experiment is on track, but keep your eyes open. If anything seems off, let the docs know. The last thing we need is Frist going bat-shit crazy. Again.”
Eric stood in the War Room with Deion and Nancy, watching the monitor as Clark and Kryzowski walked them through the day’s threats.
“The North Koreans are at it again,” Clark said. “They fired on a Japanese fishing boat.”
Eric sighed. He finally felt he was getting a handle on the influx of threats, but there were always surprises.
“Dear Leader wants more concessions during the next round of negotiations,” Nancy said.
“The SEALs are in place,” Deion said. “They could take the ship. The North Koreans would claim sabotage, but they wouldn’t have proof.”
“That’s true,” Clark agreed. “It could also harden the Chinese position. We’re counting on them to reign in the North Koreans. I’d say we hold off until the negotiations are over. Speaking of the Chinese, we’re seeing a coordinated cyber-attack against US companies. The People’s Liberation Army recruited a branch of hackers to probe the nation’s cyber-defenses.”
That was news to Eric. “How do we know this?”
“We have an asset,” Clark said. “He’s confirmed they get their funding and orders from the PLA. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do. We’ve provided details to the NSA, they’re working on a plan to publicly disclose the attacks.”
“It’s a tough call,” Deion said. “China could pressure the US on monetary policy. Or, they refuse to pressure Kim Jong-il. But, if we do nothing, the PLA will think it’s open season on the US.”
“Exactly,” Nancy agreed. “We recognize the threat, even before the rest of the intelligence community, so how do we respond?”
“We will have to see if our asset can get deeper,” Clark said. “We have limited access to him, he’s in a dormitory. We’ve been communicating through his trips to a local noodle shop.”
“If they figure out he’s turned, they’ll kill him,” Eric said.
“Which is why we have an extraction plan,” Karen said. “The asset has to be Chinese. They won’t trust an outsider.”
“Get him deeper,” Nancy said. “What else?”
“The white power group in Colorado, the APR,” Karen said. “We think they have acquired a supply of caesium-137.”
He jerked upright. “What? How the hell did that happen?
“I thought you had an eye on them,” Nancy said. “I thought they were mostly talk.”
“We did,” Clark said. “We thought it was just bluster.” He moved the mouse and the overhead monitor zoomed in on a facility twenty five miles south of Denver. “This is Landfrey Medical Waste. They have a contract to decommission and scrap medical devices, including those used for cancer treatment.”
“Let me guess,” Nancy snapped. “They contained caesium-137.”
“Correct. The company was slow to dispose of the devices and the caesium stared piling up. Now a truck-full is missing.”
Eric took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How much are we talking?”