Dansinger reached for the bottle of single malt, poured two new drinks. He raised his glass.
"To the dream."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Billy Elroy worked as a janitor for Dansinger Enterprises. It was a pretty good job. He had health insurance, a 401K, two weeks off a year, sick days if he needed them, and $13.50 an hour, 40 hours a week, time and a half for extra hours. Some people thought Billy wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack, but he was smart enough to know a good thing when he saw it. Working here was a good thing. He was careful about what he pilfered.
He never took anything important. An extra package or two of toilet paper. Soap. Sometimes a little food from one of the refrigerators in the lab. Billy liked a good salad with his barbecued ribs, and a lot of times he had an assortment of greens to choose from. No one ever missed a bowl of salad fixings.
Billy worked the last shift, from four in the afternoon to midnight. He liked the quiet of the big place after everyone had gone home. There were other janitors, of course. Everyone usually got together in the main cafeteria around eight for their meal break. The cafeteria was closed at night, but people brought their own food. Machines provided hot coffee, snacks and sodas, if you wanted something.
At the end of the break everyone went their own way. From meal break to quitting time, Billy worked alone. His job was building four, including the meeting rooms and the lab. Each building had it's own laboratory, where Dansinger's plant geniuses did their thing. Billy had a key card that granted access.
Billy had a regular routine. He always started with the meeting rooms. Then he'd move on to the bathrooms and halls and offices, then the lab to finish up. The lab had the refrigerators. He never had to go in the largest part of the building. Billy didn't know exactly what went on in there, except it was where they experimented with growing things. He didn't really care. He was just grateful he didn't have to clean it.
He finished ten minutes before the end of his shift, which gave him time to see if there were any goodies in the fridge. Five huge refrigerators lined one wall of the lab. He ignored the first four. They held test tubes, vials, small round dishes with weird stuff. Nothing edible. Sometimes the fifth had good things in it.
This time the fifth had nothing green. It was filled with row upon row of pepper jars filled with black grains, just like the ones in the store. They had blank red labels, waiting for whatever would identify the contents, like Cayenne or Black Pepper or Chili.
He was almost out of pepper at home. Billy liked a lot of pepper on his food. He chose a container from far in the back of the lower shelf. He opened the lid and shook a little on his hand to make sure. Fine black grains settled on his palm. He sniffed it and sneezed. Pretty fine grind, but it would do. No one would miss one jar. He put the jar in his pocket.
Time to go home. It was Friday. He had two weeks of vacation coming. Tomorrow he was headed to Nebraska to visit his brother and help with the spring planting.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Elizabeth hadn't heard from Yakov. She was worried. What if Vysotsky went to his boss? Anything might happen then.
Stephanie came in.
"The Pentagon. I found something."
"What have you got?"
Steph sat down. "They really had this buried. That place is like a Chinese puzzle box. I had to go through four separate revolving firewalls, each one worse than the one before."
Elizabeth waited.
"They have a war game scenario called Black Harvest."
"What's it about?"
"Occupying Russia."
"You have got to be kidding."
"No. Of course it's hypothetical."
"Sure it is. Unless they decide to implement it."
"It's a detailed plan based on one key element, catastrophic crop failure across the entire country. It assumes collapse of the government, chaos and famine. That provides an opportunity to enter Russia as the good guys bringing food and relief. Of course, supplies have to be protected by troops and the logistics to back them up. The phrase they use is 'Humanitarian Advisors'."
"They do turn a good phrase, don't they. Who can argue with that?"
"There's more."
"There always is."
"Guess how they propose to restore the food supply?"
Elizabeth reached for her pen. "Seeds." She began tapping. "Dansinger."
Steph nodded.
"Any mention of Demeter?"
"No. But the association seems obvious. Demeter must be a plan to initiate the crop failure. Black Harvest is the follow up."
"Lodge and Dansinger are going to do something to cause it."
"Demeter's curse. Something that kills crops and causes famine."
Harker thought about it. "Campbell finds the reference to the urn. He doesn't know anyone has it, he just wants to find it. He also doesn't want the Pentagon to know about it. He tells two people, everyone dies."
Steph brushed a speck from her shoulder. "Dansinger and Lodge didn't want anyone following up on it. Even though it disappeared more than two thousand years ago."
"Dansinger must have it. If anyone could use old virus material to create something new it would be him. He's got brilliant geneticists working for him."
"Lodge would be able to plant those bombs. But how did he know about Campbell?"
"He must have someone at CDC, Steph. Someone working with Campbell who knew Wiesner and Campbell were working on a bio-warfare program. Or maybe someone in the Pentagon."
"It still doesn't explain Gelashvili coming after Selena in Greece."
"I think Lodge sent him. He's gone to a lot of trouble to keep everyone away from that urn. It was a mistake."
"How so?"
"If he'd stopped after he killed Campbell and the others, it would have ended there. He probably thought it would. He couldn't have known McCullough would call Selena and give her a copy of those tablets. Somehow he knew she'd talked with McCullough and got worried. By sending Gelashvili and going after us he raised the ante."
"How would he know about Selena and McCullough?"
"I don't know."
"What do we do next, Director?"
"We wait for the team to get back. And we wait to hear from Vysotsky."
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Besida Gelashvili paced back and forth in Zviad's study. The day was sunny. She could see children playing in Gorky Park. Damn him. Damn all of them. Damn Iosif for getting himself killed. She couldn't gain control of the organization without him. The vultures were already circling and she was a disposable liability. She knew too much. She needed to get out of Moscow. Her daughters were young, no threat to anyone. They were safe but she wasn't. She felt her belly, where Iosif's baby was growing. She thought about what she'd take with her.
A servant came into the room. He was nervous.
"What is it?"
Before he could answer, three men entered the room. One of them held up his identification. A round, gold badge. In the center, a five pointed star surrounding a blue lined globe. A banner of red, blue and white spread under the star and globe.
SVR. Not FSB, but foreign intelligence. Besida forced herself to remain calm.
"Besida Gelashvili?"
"Yes."
"You will come with us."
"What…"
One of the men took her arm. "Shut up. Come with us."
A black Mercedes waited outside. The men pushed her into the back seat. One sat on either side. No one spoke until they reached SVR headquarters.
"Get out."
The men took her inside, down a long flight of steps, into a dingy corridor. They weren't gentle about it. One of them pulled open a door.