Josie couldn’t hear the conversation but she saw her boss drop his jaw, his mouth remained open as he swung around. She listened as Big Bill told her where to go and what to do. He clicked a finger and sent an index finger pointing towards the door. Do it NOW.
“OK sir, I… I have someone doing that.”
“Good, now this is what else you have to do…”
When Bill Lomas finally did get off the phone he understood exactly what he had to do and how to do it. He’d been told the local police would be the first on the scene, followed by Homeland Security. He was cautioned to remain tight-lipped about any suspicions he might have regarding what this was all about, as even the police didn’t know. He gave his word.
Chapter Nineteen
174th Fighter Wing, Hancock Field Ground Control Station, Syracuse, was approximately one hundred and fifty miles north-northwest of Albany.
“You are cleared for take-off.”
“Roger, tower.”
The pilot increased ground speed before easing back the joystick. Once off the ground he sat more comfortably in his leather armchair. “This mission is a bit different, makes a change from going to Afghanistan. Deborah wants me to go out tonight to her parents’ place.”
“So, you’d be looking forward to that then?” the Sensor Operator said, sipping his cappuccino.
“I’ve been out twice this week already, once to a damn ballet and then one of the kids had a birthday party to go to. How are the computer diagnostics reading?”
“Reading AOK. Optics looking good, cloud cover minimal. It’s a beautiful day out there.”
The MQ-9 Reaper drone maneuvered around and headed for Inox. At a cruising speed of around two hundred and thirty miles per hour, the unmanned aircraft’s destination was less than one hour away.
“A green Ford Explorer. The call came from Homeland — it must be one hell of a high priority for us to be called in.”
Directors Hall and Lopez studied the large map on the wall. Lopez drew an imaginary circle around Inox. “New Jersey state and local police are placing road blocks on all major roads within this area. They’re also targeting all other known livestock auction centers, as well as slaughterhouses, within a hundred-mile radius of Inox.”
“Good,” said Hall. “I’ve sent a chopper with a biohazard expert to Inox to neutralize the two discarded cans and take them directly to Plum Island for diagnostics. Inox police have placed a non-movement order on the remaining livestock at the auction yards, while Plum is sending out a team to see if we have an outbreak of the virus, and organize any necessary countermeasures if we do. One small consolation is that the owner of the auction business says there were no cattle transported after they had the run-in with our Arabs, as he calls them.”
“At least that’s a small mercy.” Lopez sounded pleased. “Any more news on the terrorist cell?”
“Nothing. Lilburn and his team are on their way to Inox by chopper and the drone should be searching for the cell any moment now.”
“Sir.” A staffer approached.
“Yes.”
“We have live feed up on the screens from Reaper, sir.”
“Very good, thank you. I want two personnel watching the feed at all times.” The staffer acknowledged and left.
“What’s your gut feeling, Suzanna, do you think we’ll get lucky or do you think the US now has foot-and-mouth?” Hall lowered his voice as he spoke. “Are we going to be winners or losers?”
Lopez stared down at her feet then lifted her head. Looking into Hall’s hard eyes, she could almost see her own reflection. “There won’t be any winners after this has finished. Just losers.” Lopez turned abruptly and walked over towards the monitor with the live stream from the Reaper.
Hall was bemused; her reply had been unexpected, and not what he would have picked. Suzanna Lopez was an incredibly ambitious woman who had succeeded in what was very much a male domain. It hadn’t been easy but she had paid her dues and overcome, outwitted or outgunned a lot of criticism and negative response to rise to her current position. Hall narrowed his eyes, and nodded to himself, before joining her at the live stream.
Once it arrived at its destination, high above the cattle yards at Inox, the Reaper began a systematic search. The images it sent back were carefully studied at two separate locations. The team at Homeland could see when the sensor operator at Syracuse, guiding the camera, spotted any vehicle or point of interest on the ground, as the camera zoomed in for closer inspection. The next twenty-five minutes clicked slowly by; minute by minute.
“Sir, ma’am, possible target identified.”
Hall reacted to the message quickly and came up behind the two seated men, who never took their eyes off the screen. One had a phone headset, in direct contact with the sensor operator at Syracuse. The vehicle matched the description of the suspect vehicle perfectly. The camera focused on the four-wheel drive as it sped westward away from Inox, along a gravel road and sending up a cloud of dust.
“Someone show me on the map exactly where they are,” demanded Hall.
“Right here, sir.”
“Do we know one hundred percent that’s our target?
“No, sir.”
It was a familiar dilemma. Put valuable strategic resources into this vehicle or hold off and wait for further confirmation of the target’s identity?
“Is that Syracuse you have on the phone?”
“Yes, sir.”
Hall took the man’s headset. “Director Hall. Can you get in closer so we can see the occupants?”
“We’ll see what we can do, sir.” Hall could hear the operator giving instructions to the pilot in the background. “Going in closer now, sir.”
Hall handed the headset back to the staffer.
“But is that our vehicle?” asked Lopez.
“Could be, the drone’s going in for a closer look. Lilburn and his team will still be about ten minutes away. That vehicle is sure going like a bat out of hell. There are cattle ranches right through this area, any place they could pull over, stop, lean over a fence and release the virus into the face of a cow. You know I…”
“Wow!” One of the watchers reeled back in surprise. “Holy shit, did you see that?”
Everyone’s concentration returned to the live feed. The Ford Explorer had spun around and around on the gravel road before coming to a halt, enveloped in a cloud of thick dust.
“What the hell just happened?” Hall bellowed.
“A small tractor pulled out onto the road from nowhere, sir. The subject vehicle had no chance to avoid it and clipped the front before going into those three-sixty spins. Last I saw of the tractor before it was obscured by the dust, it was going over.”
The team gathered around the live feed could barely see — the dust was only just starting to settle. The Reaper pilot had now put the drone into as tight a pattern as he could. The accident scene began to appear. The Ford had remained upright and come to a complete halt, facing the way it had come and by pure good fortune, still on the road. The tractor was lying on its side. A person could be seen in a spasmodic run heading for the Ford and away from the tractor. The running man made it to the vehicle, everyone saw him bend down and look inside. The man suddenly stepped back away from the Ford, his actions stiff, unnatural. He turned, then started running back the way he came but fell down flat on his face. He didn’t move.
There was a sharp intake of breath, then Lopez gasped. “I think he’s been shot!”
The operations room at Homeland went quiet. No one other than the four around the live screen had seen the event but most heard Director Lopez.