Eric had a point. He had counseled Eric to never forget what John had done, to never forgive him for blowing up the Red Cross building in Fairfax. During John’s training, he kept an eye on John, prepared to put a bullet in the young man’s head.
Just in case.
Now he worked directly with John, and found he actually liked the young man. John was practically killing himself to be part of the OTM. He was smart, focused, and courageous. Under different circumstances, they could even be friends.
But it’s not different circumstances.
John had killed a lot of people. Men. Women. Kids. He remembered reading the interviews with John’s unit in Iraq… the living members, anyway. John had always been something of an odd duck, and the IED in Iraq had pushed him over the edge.
No amount of drugs and memory replacement would change who John was, and he knew it would be a mistake to forget how dangerous the StrikeForce technology made him.
He spoke carefully. “He’s useful. He’s functioning. What more can I say?”
“What did you get from Hassan?”
“He saw something on the Rising Star. A biohazard sign. Men in rubber suits. Sounds like there was something aboard that ship besides the bomb.”
Eric’s face paled. “That’s why they scuttled the ship.”
“That’s my conclusion. Whatever was on that ship, it was worth killing everyone on board and putting it on the bottom of the ocean. It gets worse. There was a man with them and he left on a motorbike. Hassan doesn’t know where he went.”
Eric paced around the conference room table. Their enemy… their unknown enemy… had deep pockets, but it wasn’t money that worried him. Their enemy was committed to action. That, more than anything, gave him pause.
A committed enemy can do a hell of a lot of damage.
The conference room door opened and Fulton Smith entered, followed by Nancy. Smith took his seat at the head of the table while Nancy took the seat to his right. Smith nodded. “Begin.”
“They sank the Rising Star,” he said, “because they didn’t want us to find out what else was on board.” He took the seat across from Nancy. “There were men in rubber suits and there were biohazard labels. That’s why they scuttled the ship.”
“Perfectly reasonable conclusion,” Smith said. “What do you think of this?”
He glanced between Smith and his daughter. When Smith questioned him, it always felt like a test. “I think that someone is determined to strike us. To hurt us. They have money, and they have technology, and they have the will to use it.”
A smile spread across Smith’s face, and his pale blue eyes lit up. “An excellent analysis. What else?”
His mind struggled to wrap it all up. “Normally I would say it’s a nation state. Nukes and bio-terror. That’s the kind of thing I expect from Russia.”
“But not in this case?” Smith prompted.
“You’ve assured me the Russians aren’t involved, and bio-terror is not their style. I’ve read your files. They developed horrifying bugs during the Cold War. They could have used them then.”
“They were not the only ones who developed such things.” Smith leaned back for a moment, his eyes drifting around the room. “We had our own program, of course. Hobert theorized we had the means to kill most life on this planet with a modified version of the plague. I believe he was right. It was only by a gentleman’s agreement with my Russian counterpart that we bottled up the research. We destroyed as much as we could without our government’s knowledge.”
Nancy raised an eyebrow. “You both did?”
Smith’s eyes focused on her. “We were bad men, but we did not want to be evil men. I’ve kept things from the Office and from the Presidents I serve. I’ve done what I thought best to serve my country and to keep the world safe. Sometimes they are mutually exclusive.”
Eric gaped. Since being recruited, he had read many of the OTM’s old case reports. He knew that they weren’t complete… there were gaps that could not be explained. He suspected that Smith had sanitized the history, keeping things from being recorded. “What things have you done, sir? How far off the reservation did you go to save the world?”
The old man stared at him, his blue eyes turning icy cold. “I’ve never pretended to be a saint. I love my country, but above all else, I am human being.” He paused, shaking his head. “I will always serve my country, to the best of my ability, but make no mistake. The world you see now exists because of actions I’ve taken, and I would take them again. Nuclear weapons? Biological warfare? I’ve done terrible things to make sure they never saw the light of day.”
Smith paused, lost in thought, then continued, “We developed a new plague, one that would kill eighty percent of those infected. It worked slowly, so the carriers would have enough time to spread the disease. But, during the testing, the virus mutated. It became even more deadly, and we worried that once unleashed it might kill us all.” Smith’s voice grew rough and he shook his head sadly. “I halted the research and buried the program.”
There was a knock at his door and Eric stood to answer it. Karen was waiting outside, a paper bag in one hand and a cup holder with two large coffees in the other.
“What’s this?”
Karen smiled. “I figured you’d be locked in here, driving yourself crazy over the losses in Somalia.” She held up the paper bag. “Brought you some cheeseburgers. You don’t eat when you’re upset.”
He motioned for her to enter and she sat on his couch, in front of his wall screen. She glanced down at the stack of papers and Colt handgun parts on the coffee table. He grabbed them, clearing a space for the paper bag and coffee cups. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting visitors.”
She waved her hands around the room. “This is how it always looks, isn’t it?”
He watched as she opened the bag and handed him a cheeseburger wrapped in wax paper. He opened it and sniffed. His stomach growled at the smell of grilled beef and bacon. “I guess I am hungry.”
She laughed. “Of course you are. You haven’t eaten in almost twenty four hours.”
He realized she was correct. “I got caught up in the mission. Hey, are you stalking your boss?”
“Just looking out for you,” she said. “Everyone else is afraid of you, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Really?” He paused for a moment. Now that she mentioned it, people did defer an awful lot. “What about Sergeant Clark?”
“Haven’t you ever noticed the way he looks when you’re near?”
“How’s that?”
“When you enter the room he gets the same look on his face as when the Old Man enters.”
“People view me the way they view Smith?” It was news to him. Smith wasn’t just his boss… Smith was a force of nature. The man had shaped the second half of the twentieth century.
“They do. You have to remember, people were watching you for years before you were recruited. The Old Man was very interested in you. Now, eat your cheeseburger.”
He looked down at the sandwich in his hand, then took a bite and washed it down with coffee. Like everything the OTM did, the food at the base was top-notch. The coffee was black with a little cream, just the way he liked it. “Thanks for this.”
Karen took a bite of her own sandwich and chugged half of her coffee. “Can I ask what Deion found?”