Frankie had spotted Harry’s cutting motion just before the computers died.
“What are you doing Harry?” she asked confused.
“What happened?” asked Turner, looking up at the blank bank of screens that towered over the room.
The sound of boots running into the room answered Turner’s question as the outer perimeter of the room filled with military personnel.
Turner looked at Carson with great confusion and betrayal.
“People, I want to thank you for all the hard work you have put in over the last few week—”
“What in the hell are you doing Harry?” protested Turner.
“We have arrived at a point in the investigation when this has become a military matter. As such, I would ask all non-military personnel to vacate the building immediately.”
“No fucking way! We’ve just cracked the emails!” screeched Turner.
“We cracked them thirty minutes ago,” said Carson.
“We?”
“Defense,” replied Carson.
“What are you going to do?”
“Whatever we need to, to protect the United States of America,” replied Carson before adding. “And her allies.”
“What are you doing, Harry?” asked Frankie quietly.
Carson looked at her. She could see he was struggling. He turned back to face the main center.
“Ladies and gentlemen, once again, I thank you for all your efforts. But action will be taken here that none of you have signed up for. I must ask you to leave now, or you will be removed forcibly.”
“Oh Jesus, you’re not, Harry. Tell me you’re not?” pleaded Turner.
“What?” asked both Reid and Frankie.
“He’s going to shoot the plane down!”
“Just stop it from taking off!” said Reid.
“They won’t, they want to make sure they get rid of the virus and any carriers that may be aboard. If they stop the plane they may not get them all and risk a European outbreak,” Turner worked out.
“Harry?” asked Frankie, looking for confirmation.
“Everyone out now!” screamed Carson.
Chapter 75
“There must be something we can do!” said Reid as they walked dejectedly out to the parking lot of the NCTC.
Turner looked back at his center where a ring of very serious-faced young soldiers stood guard. “He’s the Secretary of Defense and I’m fairly sure he’ll have informed the President of what he’s doing.”
“Shooting down an American airliner?!” said Frankie in disgust.
“That’s if it’s just one. We’ve got five different flight bookings for James Smith,” reminded Reid.
“Where’s that NSA guy?” asked Turner urgently looking around the hundreds of agents that were pouring out of the center.
“He’s probably still there. NSA’s part of the DoD,” said Frankie.
“Well, not the right part,” said Turner, spotting the young agent amongst the crowd. He pushed through the crowd with Frankie and Reid in tow.
“The emails, what did they say?” asked Turner.
The NSA agent looked behind him. “I’m sorry Deputy Director, I can’t say.”
“You got kicked out just like us though?!”
“Only because I don’t have the correct clearance to stay.”
“What clearance are you?”
“Top secret,” he replied. “To be honest I thought I was cleared for anything.”
“So what clearance level is left in there?” asked Frankie.
“Top Secret, SAP.”
“SAP?”
“Special Access Program. Only those cleared for the program are allowed to stay.”
Turner looked back at the center. “How many was that?”
“There were only about ten left in the Operations center when I left. They checked my clearance and kicked me out.”
“Ten?!” said Reid. “That’s hardly enough to man the front desk!”
“But you cracked the email?”
“Yes but I can’t tell you what was in it.”
“Can you tell us how many there were?”
“Hmm, probably not,” he said, looking back once again to the center.
“Was your guess right?” asked Turner.
“Way off.”
“One zero?” asked Turner.
“Two, sir,” he said.
Turner paled at the understanding of how big the number was.
“How many?” asked Frankie.
Turner didn’t want to say it out loud in case the Agent confirmed it. He was still hoping they had crossed wires. “Ten thousand?” he said tentatively, hoping he’d be corrected. A faint smile from the NSA agent told him he was correct.
“That can’t be right!” said Frankie. “That’d need hundreds of flights. They’d be on every flight leaving Europe for America!”
“He can’t shoot down every plane heading for America,” said Reid.
“What’s a hundred thousand lives compared to over three hundred million?” questioned Turner.
“Just cancel all the planes!” shouted Frankie.
Turner shook his head. “They’re assuming the jihadists aren’t going to be contagious in Europe. Nick threatened America not the rest of the world. If Europe gets Ebola, the Middle East and the Muslim world gets it. The carriers will plan to become contagious during their flights. Remember what Colonel Barnes said, there’s a four-hour window from infection to being contagious. They need the flights to go ahead as though nothing’s wrong. They need the carriers in the air when they become contagious. Otherwise, hundreds of millions or even billions would be at risk.”
“So they’ll just massacre tens of thousands of innocent passengers?” asked Frankie sharply.
“They’ll already be dead, they just won’t know it yet. Shooting the planes down will save them an excruciating death. Remember that poor guy in France?”
“If we stop the planes, they won’t be exposed,” argued Frankie.
“They will. And all of Europe will be exposed if the planes don’t take off. The terrorists are probably already taking their injections. Some of those flights are probably already in the air, or at least boarding, and they’d need to take the injection before the security gates.”
“Do you need me anymore?” interrupted the NSA agent. He did not want to be seen talking to the group. Carson had told him personally not to divulge what he had discovered.
“Anything else you can tell us?” asked Turner.
“No,” he said, leaving quickly thereafter. As desperate as he was to tell them about the incorrect assumption they had made, Secretary of Defense Carson had made it very clear that his life would not be worth living if he ever discovered the young agent had divulged what he had uncovered.
Chapter 76
Walid checked the corridor as per Nick’s instructions. It was clear.
“What do you think?” he asked, his head still outside the door.
“I think you should come back into the room before you speak!” said Nick.
“Sorry,” said Walid, quickly closing the door.
“I think we’ll go ahead as if nothing has happened.”
“But if they know your room, they’ll know your flight.”
Nick shook his head. “I’ve got a booking on the Washington flight at 12:20 p.m. in a different name.”
“But they’ll be looking for you?”
“It’s a different airline using a completely separate area of the terminal and I don’t look anything like Nick Geller.”
“But what about the name you were going to use?”
Nick pulled out the passport for James Smith, opening it at the photo page. It looked exactly as he currently did — a man in his late fifties, with a heavily wrinkled face.