I had to walk or drive my car. I had to get away.
"An inch at a times" Marino repeated as the elevator stopped. "There ain't no inch or mile that's going to help this scenario. We re a day late and a dollar short. We started putting the pieces together after the game was goddamn over."
"it isn't over," I said.
We walked past the receptionist and around a corner, where a hallway led to the unit chief's office.
"Yeah, well, let's hope it don't end with a bang. Shit, If only we had figured it out sooner." His stride was long and angry.
"Marino, we couldn't have known. There isn't a way."
"Well, I think we should have figured out something sooner. Like in Sandbridge, when you got the weird phone call and then everything else."
"Oh for God's sake," I said. "What? A phone call should have tipped us off that terrorists were about to seize a nuclear power plant?"
Wesley's secretary was new and I could not remember her name.
"Good afternoon," I said to her. "Is he in?"
"May I tell him who you are?" she asked with a smile.
We told her, and were patient as she rang him. They did not speak long.
When she looked back at us she said, "You may go in."
Wesley was behind his desk, and when we walked in he stood. He was typically preoccupied and somber in a gray herringbone suit and black and gray tie.
"We can go in the conference room," he said.
"Why?" Marino took a chair. "You got some other people coming?"
"Actually, I do," he replied.
I stood where I was and would not give him my eyes any longer than was polite.
"I'll tell you what," he reconsidered. "We can stay in here. Hold on." He walked to the door. "Emily, can you find another chair?"
We got settled while she brought one in, and Wesley was having a hard time keeping his thoughts in one place and making decisions. I knew what he was like when he was overwhelmed. I knew when he was scared.
"You know what's going on," he said as if we did.
"We know what everybody else does," I replied.
"We've heard the same news on the radio probably a hundred times."
"So how about starting from the beginning," Marino said. -CP amp;L has a district office in Suffolk," Wesley began.
"At least twenty people left there this afternoon in a bus for an alleged in-service in the mock control room of the Old Point plant. They were men, white, thirties to early forties, posing as employees, which they obviously are not.
And they managed to get into the main building where the control room is located."
"They were armed," I said.
"Yes. When it was time for them to go through the x-ray machines and other detectors at the main building, they pulled out semiautomatic weapons. As you know, people have been killed-we think at least three CP amp;L employees, including a nuclear physicist who just happened to be paying a site visit today and was going through security at the wrong time."
"What are their demands?" I asked, and I wondered how much Wesley had known and for how long. "Have they said what they want?"
He met my eyes. "That's what worries us the most. We don't know what they want."
"But they're letting people go," Marino said.
"I know. And that worries me, too," Wesley stated.
"Terrorists generally don't do that." His telephone rang.
"This is different." He picked up the receiver. "Yes," he said. "Good. Send him in."
Major General Lynwood Sessions was in the uniform of the Navy he served when he entered the office and shook hands with each of us. He was black, maybe forty-five and handsome in a way that was not to be dismissed. He did not take off his jacket or even loosen a button as he formally took a chair and set a fat briefcase beside him.
"General, thank you for coming," Wesley began.
"I wish it were for a happier reason," he said as he bent over to get out a file folder and legal pad.
"Don't we all," Wesley said. "This is Captain Pete Marino with Richmond, and Dr. Kay Scarpetta, the chief medical examiner of Virginia." He looked at me and held my gaze. "They work with us. Dr. Scarpetta, as a matter of fact, is the medical examiner in the cases that we believe are related to what is happening today."
General Sessions nodded and made no comment.
Wesley said to Marino and me, "Let me try to tell you what we know beyond the immediate crisis. We have reason to believe that vessels in the Inactive Ship Yard are being sold to countries that should not have them. This includes Iran, Iraq, Libya, North Korea, Algeria."
"What sort of vessels?" Marino asked.
"Mainly submarines. We also suspect that this shipyard is buying vessels from places like Russia and then reselling them."
"And why have we not been told this before?" I asked.
Wesley hesitated. "No one had proof."
"Ted Eddings was diving in the Inactive Yard when he died," I said. "He was near a submarine."
No one replied.
Then the general said, "He was a reporter. It's been suggested that he might have been looking for Civil War relics."
"And what was Danny doing?" I measured my words because I was getting tired of this. "Exploring a historic train tunnel in Richmond?"
"It's hard to know what Danny Webster was into," he said. "But I understand the Chesapeake police found a bayonet in the trunk of his car, and it is consistent with the tool marks left on your slashed tires."
I looked a long time at him. "I don't know where you got your information, but if what you've said is true, then I suspect Detective Roche turned that evidence in."
"I believe he turned in the bayonet, yes."
"I believe all of us in this room can be trusted." I kept my eyes on his. "If there is a nuclear disaster, I am mandated by law to take care of the dead. There are already too many dead at Old Point." I paused. "General Sessions, now would be a very good time to tell the truth."
The men were silent for a moment.
Then the general said, "NAVSEA has been concerned about that shipyard for a while."
"NAVSEA? What the hell is that?" Marino asked.
"Naval Sea Systems Command," he said. "They're the people responsible for making certain that shipyards like the one in question abide by the appropriate standards."
"Eddings had the label N-V-S-E programmed into his fax machine," I said. "Was he in communication with them?"
"He had asked questions," General Sessions said. "We were aware of Mr. Eddings. But we could not give him the answers he wanted. Just as we could not answer you, Dr. Scarpetta, when you sent us a fax asking who we were."
His face was inscrutable. "I'm certain you can understand that."
"What is D-R-M-S out of Memphis?" I then asked.
"Another fax number that Eddings called, as did you," he said. "Defense Reutilization Marketing Service. They handle all surplus sales, which must be approved by NAVSEA."
"This is making sense," I said. "I can see why Eddings would have been in touch with these people. He was on to what was happening at the Inactive Yard, that the Navy's standards were being violated in a rather shocking way.
And he was probing for his story."
"Tell me more about these standards," Marino said.
"Exactly what is the shipyard supposed to abide by?"
"I'll give you an example. If Jacksonville wants the Saratoga or some other aircraft carrier, then NAVSEA makes certain that any work done to it meets the Navy's standards."