The pilots of Homeland stick together — a select group of individuals with a common interest. It was nearing the afternoon coffee break and Lilburn hoped the man he was after was there, wounded arm or not. As he entered the cafeteria, eyes looked at him from the twenty or so tables evenly spaced around the room. Word had spread. But Lilburn was oblivious to sympathetic comments or praise as he looked for the distinctive flight suits. Three pilots were sitting together and one had a bandaged arm.
“Hell, look who’s here!” Gracie’s pilot stood up and offered his good hand to Lilburn. “Hey, Matt Lilburn, it’s good to see you home.” His smile dropped. “Hey man, I’m real sorry…”
“Sure, thanks. Listen, I didn’t know if I’d even see you at work…”
“Can’t keep a good man down.” The comment brought a howl of laughter from his fellow pilots. “Yeah, yeah, quiet in the cheap seats. What can I do for you?”
Sitting with the pilots, Lilburn told them in hushed tones what had happened and what he needed to do. When he’d finished, the men at the table were quiet, the mood somber.
“Shit.” The injured pilot was the first to speak. “What do you reckon, boys?” The response was unanimous. “Do it, Luke.”
Lilburn laid a hand of appreciation on Luke Major’s shoulder. Finally he knew the man’s name. “I was told there were no helicopters available today.”
“Who told you that? Apart from my girl, Grace WIA, we have near on a full complement. It was these two degenerates here who flew you back here.”
“Sure, sure. I must have misheard…”
“Have you had lunch yet?” Luke inquired. “No? Well, go grab something you can pour ketchup on and eat with us.”
The four men left the table after Lilburn had scoffed down a plate of meatloaf. After a quick but thorough pre-flight check, Luke and Gracie lifted off from Albany just before 1330 hours. The two other pilots watched, then set to work covering up the unauthorized flight.
“About one hour, Matt, and we touch down on Plum.”
Lilburn adjusted the mike attached to his headset. “Any word on the chopper that took Hall down this morning?”
“Let me see. Delta-Mike-Charlie, this is Bravo-Quebec-Alpha, Quarterback, over.”
“Delta-Mike-Charlie. How’s it going, Quarterback? Over.”
“Bravo-Quebec-Alpha. All good, Lineman. What’s your locstat and POB, over?”
“Delta-Mike-Charlie. Left the island and arriving at Bethel, ETA ten minutes. Two POB, over.”
“Does that include Sunray, over?”
“Roger.”
“Bravo-Quebec-Alpha. Roger, Lineman, thanks. Out.”
Luke looked at Lilburn. “The director’s on board. Did you pick up the conversation?”
“Yes. Where’s Bethel and why would he be going there?”
Luke shook his head. “No idea. Bethel is a small town in Sullivan County, about eighty miles nor’west of New York City. You heard of Woodstock?”
“Heard of it, yeah. Way before my time.”
“Humdinger of a concert, so I’m told. Near there. You still want to proceed to Plum?”
Lilburn nodded.
“There she is again. Plum friggin’ Island. Damn, I hate this place!” Luke initiated comms with the island and commenced landing. The flight down had been a fairly subdued affair with little conversation. Luke, aware his passenger was deep in thought and staring blankly out of the cockpit, decided not to press matters.
The helicopter touched down. Once again a black Jeep approached and waited. Telling Luke he wasn’t sure how long he would be, Lilburn disembarked and jogged to the vehicle. First stop — visitors’ reception.
“Good afternoon, Matt Lilburn,” he handed over his ID card to a lady with a friendly face and an equally welcoming smile on the other side of the counter. “I’d like to see someone about a virus recently secured at this facility.”
“Special Agent… Lilburn.” The receptionist looked up from writing down his details in a log. “Could you be a little more specific? We have quite a few viruses here. Just a little hint?”
“Foot-and-mouth.”
The woman gave nothing away. “Just one moment, please, while I fetch Dr. Harrington. She may be able to help you.”
Lilburn smiled politely. He looked around the reception. The only other person in the room was a man who sat side on, typing at a keyboard. He wasn’t paying him any attention. The receptionist had left the visitors’ log book open on the counter top, within arm’s length. Lilburn would have dearly liked to have turned the book around but he was aware of the security camera focused on him. Doing his best to read upside down, the last entry before his caught his attention. The four letters of the surname were just legible. Hall.
The receptionist reappeared followed by another woman. “Special Agent Lilburn.” A middle aged woman in a white lab coat addressed him while looking over the rims of her glasses. “My name is Dr. Harrington, I understand you’re inquiring about a particular virus?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m the agent who helped secure the spray cans.”
“Ahh, yes,” Dr. Harrington said, recognizing the name. She took off her glasses and placed them in her top pocket. “I just had the pleasure of showing your director around our facility.”
“Director Hall?”
“Yes indeed. A very nice man, extremely courteous.”
“May I ask if Director Hall advised you I couldn’t make it down with him, and would be arriving later?”
“No… did you also want to visit the laboratory where we have the virus contained?”
“Yes, if it would be no bother. It was a sort of… well, a sort of thank you on the part of the director for, you know, capturing the bad guys.” The moment he said it, Lilburn knew it sounded lame.
The doctor hesitated. “Well… I guess that shouldn’t be a problem considering what you’ve been through — and what you saved us all from.” Turning to the receptionist she made arrangements for the special request. A visitor’s ID tag was produced and a door unlocked, allowing Lilburn to follow the doctor.
As they made their way down the corridor, they were stopped by a number of security doors — each time Dr. Harrington swiped a card to allow access.
“As you are probably aware, Agent Lilburn, we have approximately seventy buildings on the island, not all usable, I might add, and we operate at bio-safety level three — one being the lowest and four the highest. Where we’re headed is to one of our animal rooms. You won’t find any animals in it today, but it’s a highly secured room where we’ve temporarily stored the two aerosol cans. Nearly there.”
The doctor placed her security card up to the last door. “In here is the anteroom, and that’s as far as I can take you.”
They walked into a small room with a desk, chair and a large assortment of books in shelves and notices pinned to walls. A man dressed in blue scrubs and a surgical cap rose from the chair as the pair entered.
“George, this is Special Agent Lilburn, he missed the tour with Director Hall this morning.”
The introduction was completed with a handshake.“George is one of our technicians authorized to work in the animal rooms. He’s specially trained in working with highly contagious and dangerous organisms.”