“So, what’s the problem?” Valentini said.
“I’m getting to that. Our defense department actually funds much of the present research at Vector in order to have access and to control it. We received word two weeks ago that a sample of the smallpox virus and the vaccine against it had been stolen from the secured facility.”
“Where’d it go?”
Samson shrugged. “Disappeared. The Russians are questioning all employees but that’s a lot of people. As of now, they don’t have any answers.”
“So … what’s that mean for us?” Valentini asked slowly. “After being frozen, are these samples dangerous?”
“As a rule, the Soviet scientists preferred to manufacture their viruses in dry, powder form. That wasn’t true of Variola because the liquid form retained its viability for months when deep frozen and would be extremely stable if converted to aerosol form. That means the stolen samples are probably extremely hot.”
“Huh?”
“Dangerous, contagious,” Dr. Samson said. “The Soviets had a three hundred gallon tank that looked like the hot water heater in your home. I’ve seen it. They filled it with live kidney cells from African green monkeys and pumped in smallpox. They ran it at warm temperatures and in a few days, the reactor became hot with amplified smallpox.”
Paul could tell people still failed to catch on to the danger. When Dr. Samson looked around the room, he didn’t get any reaction.
Dr. Samson continued, “A single run of the reactor could’ve produced one hundred trillion lethal doses of smallpox-enough to give everyone in the world about two thousand infective doses. It would be easy for someone to draw off samples that could’ve been freeze-dried in small vials and easily carried anywhere in the world. I’m sure you remember that smallpox invades the respiratory system from human to human. It’s spread by coughing, sneezing, saliva, anything that can be airborne. So, it’s easy to transmit and wouldn’t take a lot of the sample to start a pandemic.”
“And,” Conway interrupted, “you think the samples are here.”
Dr. Samson stopped to sip his coffee. He swallowed slowly. “Yes.”
“What evidence do you have?” Valentini demanded.
“When the young Somali man was killed a few months ago, the local Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents were alerted, as they’d been tracking these young men for months. Agent Cortez,” he nodded at Joan, “worried there may be something more to the murder since he returned to the country, rather than stay in Somalia to fight like the others. In turn, she alerted our contract scientist in Minneapolis to accompany her to the crime scene.”
Paul stared at Joan. She refused to catch his eyes. He was furious. When they’d met, she hadn’t lied exactly, but certainly left out big chunks of what she knew. Paul forced himself to calm down. He’d deal with that problem later.
Dr. Samson continued, “Several things struck us as odd-the use of the medical mask. Of course, it could’ve been a disguise, but the killer used a respirator designed to prevent the spread of air borne contaminants. He wore glasses. We also found latex gloves, worn by the killer, at the crime scene. To prevent fingerprints? Maybe, but could they have been worn as a further protection against a contagious disease?”
“I still don’t see how this evidence is conclusive,” Valentini said.
“We agreed. Up to that point, the evidence was curious but not much more. For a while we stopped our investigation. We really didn’t know what else to do until we remembered an autopsy had been done on the victim. We contacted the Medical Examiner’s office here and obtained the records and specimens from the autopsy. When we viewed the tissue remains, we clearly saw the results of a Variola invasion.”
“What? You’re saying the victim had smallpox?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Dr. Samson answered. “So, the question became-if small pox doesn’t exist in the world, how did the young man contract it? Again, we were shocked but didn’t know where to turn.”
“Wouldn’t the victim infect others?” Conway said.
“Depends on the incubation period. Normally, it’s two weeks. It takes a while for the patient to be contagious. Maybe the young man was killed just before that point.”
“So, Doctor, where the hell does this leave us? And what can we do to help?” Conway crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs.
“Thanks to your agents, Bill, we just learned that some scientist was talking to young Somali men at the mosque.”
“You think he’s going to introduce smallpox?” Conway’s eyes opened wider. “We’re already tracking this guy and have the probable insertion point under constant surveillance. Well, it will be. But what I don’t get, is how’s he gonna do it?”
Dr. Samson shook his head. “We don’t know. Smallpox is highly adaptable to the human body and is considered to be the worst human disease. It’s estimated to have killed more people than any other infectious pathogen in history.”
People around the table shifted uncomfortably. Some looked into their coffee cups and drank. Murmurs bubbled around the room. Finally, Valentini spoke, “I don’t know … I mean, I’m not a doctor, but I remember the anthrax scare. Turned out to be a lot of fear and not much substance. How can this guy carry out such a plan?”
“You make an excellent point. Before an outbreak of smallpox could occur, two major problems must be overcome. One, the terrorist must get a hold of the Variola virus and be able to transport it. Until the theft in Russia, that hadn’t been accomplished by anyone that we know of, although we suspect several other countries have secret stockpiles they’ve purchased on the black market. Second, the person must develop a delivery method. That’s where we’re at now. Would they dump the virus in drinking water, drop a bomb of it on New York? To make it harder, the Variola virus can live outside the human body for up to several months. We’re wracking our brains trying to anticipate how a terrorist would deliver the virus.”
Conway’s assistant came into the room. He told her, “Get the director and notify the Strategic Information Operations Center in Washington.” She nodded and left immediately. Conway held up his hands. “Folks, let’s take a break to clear our heads. We need to all be at our best for this.”
Paul’s phone vibrated. “What’s up, Zehra? I’m very busy.”
“Sorry. I just wondered if you knew anything about a pair of latex gloves at the crime scene?”
“Uh … no,” he lied. “I’ve got lots of other problems. I can’t tell you much, but I want you to be careful. Stay away from Burnsville for the next few days.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We suspect uh … uh a problem may occur at the mosque there. Gotta run.” He clicked off.
As people wandered out of the room, Paul approached Joan. He cornered her near the window that looked out over downtown Minneapolis. He asked her, “Why? I realize you’ve got your secrets, stuff you can’t tell me, but this wasn’t a small item.”
“Paul, most of this is so highly classified. I couldn’t even write it in my own diary.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Well, whatever you believe, I was instructed to be careful with the intel.”
“But you were at the crime scene. Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Because of the evidence we found.”
“Joan, this is bullshit.”
She interrupted him. “National security is all I can say.”
“I work for the god damn FBI! National security’s what we do, or did you forget? You knew how serious this case is to all of us.”
Joan sighed. “I’ve got my career to think of. If ICE busts this, I’m golden. I gave you the things I could give you.” She looked up at him. For a moment, her eyes softened. “Sorry. Shit happens.”
“I don’t …” Paul shook his head and turned away. Once again, ambition trumped cooperation and unfortunately, national security. Maybe now that everyone was literally in the same room, they could operate together. He walked away without saying another word.