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"That depends on how you want the agent to work. As I previously stated, I can modify the time element on how fast the agent reacts to water. The sample you received reacted in one hour. I can modify that up to fourteen days. The longer the delay, the more expensive it is. The time that the agent is active remains the same. In ten hours, it is virtually gone."

"Can that be modified, as well?"

"No. Once the activation process begins, it cannot be altered."

"I would like the agent to activate quickly."

The blond-haired man remained silent, thinking. "In that case, for the amount you requested, the cost would be one hundred million dollars."

"That is considerably more than I was expecting," scoffed Ali.

"It is what it is. No one is forcing you to purchase my product. You are welcome to look elsewhere. You will not find its equal."

"I will pay fifty million," Ryyaki Ali said.

"Then you will pay nothing, and this meeting is over." Smith stood to leave.

Ryyaki Ali threatened, "What makes you think you may just walk out of here?"

Ryyaki Ali had four of his guards with him, all with handguns drawn.

Smith turned and stared at him with a look that would freeze hell. "And what makes you think that the next drink of water you have will not kill you? Do you think I am so foolish as to not take my own precautions? You have insulted me. The price is now two hundred million dollars. You have thirty seconds to decide," Smith declared.

Ryyaki Ali was raging inside. He was sure he would be able to negotiate the price down, but his plan had backfired badly. He was also sure he could not take a chance that this man had not tampered with his own water supply. At that moment, he didn't trust this man that if he simply refused the product that he would just let it go. He was between a rock and a hard place, and he knew it. And this man Smith knew it. Ali also realized further attempt to negotiate a price reduction would be fruitless.

"Agreed, per my instructions on the timetable," Ali stated, not hiding his fury.

"Agreed. I will be in touch for the financial transaction and instructions on how the product will be delivered to you. You will wire half the money and you will receive the product, and then you will wire the remainder. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

The blond-haired man walked over to Ali and offered to shake his hand. Ali hesitated and then accepted the invitation.

"One other very important item," Smith added. "If you try to skip the second payment, you know what will happen."

"I will abide by our agreement. I have no wish to make an enemy of you. America is my enemy."

"Then I foresee no problems. I will be in touch with the delivery arrangements." With that, he turned and walked out of the dank warehouse.

Rijah Ellhad called Ryyaki Ali. He had heard the entire conversation by cell phone held by one of the guards. "I have people in place to follow him. Should we?"

"No. This is a very dangerous man. We will not give him any reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary. We will receive the weapon and then decide just how to proceed."

"He is asking for a very large sum of money."

"Yes, but for the pain we can cause the Americans, to me, it is worth it. I also don't want the concern of him attacking us. He fights by methods we are unfamiliar with. I believe that it would be in our best interest to just pay the amount and proceed. I was not prepared to spend that amount of money, but I believe it is the right path to follow. We may want to do business with him again in the future should our actions succeed."

"As you wish," Ellhad replied.

8

Bernard Backersley was back in his office at CIA headquarters. It was surprisingly modest. Only his desk would draw any admiration, an early twentieth-century piece constructed from mahogany with a fine hand-rubbed oil finish that he'd imported from England. At the moment, he was sitting behind it bristling with annoyance. He was incensed that the president had shown him a video that he knew nothing about. Furthering his ire was the president not revealing how he had obtained the footage. Backersley was used to being the one holding the cards. He picked up his phone and summoned the chief of his cyber unit to his office.

Ten minutes later, agent in charge Myra Banks knocked and entered.

"Take a seat, Myra."

"Yes, sir."

"You don't have to 'sir' me when it's the two of us." Backersley had known Myra Banks for ten years, and they enjoyed a "friends with benefits" relationship, though very few people knew.

"What's eating you, Bernie?"

"I just came from a meeting with the president and the other directors. He had access to an extremely sensitive video that I knew nothing about. I couldn't get him to say how he'd obtained it."

"And you're mad because he had something before you."

"Damn it, Myra, it's my job to have everything before everybody. I can't figure out where in the hell it came from."

"Was it concerning the fish kill?" she asked.

"Yes. It was an infrared image that showed an individual tossing something into that lake. I wasn't aware that particular technology was far enough along to be utilized from a satellite and able to show that type of detail."

"Infrared has come a long way, but to pick up one individual's heat signal with that detail does surprise me, at least from the satellites that I think would have been utilized."

"Well, the president just showed it to me."

"I don't believe we have that capability, at least not yet. I could be wrong. I don't know of anyone else who might have it."

"Any guesses?"

The slender brunette sat quiet for a minute, curling her long hair around her right index finger, thinking. "I can only surmise that it could be done in one of two ways. Either somebody hit upon a new and much stronger technology, which I'm sure we would have heard about, or someone was able to write some type of program utilizing existing technology that created a much larger expansion into the revelation of minute detail. Given the choices, I'd bet on the second."

"Okay, who could do that?" Backersley asked, his ruddy complexion even redder than usual.

"Currently, no one who works for us. One woman comes to mind — Darlene Phillips."

"Isn't she the one that the president stole from us for that new DOP agency he created?"

"Yes. I worked with her for almost four years, and she's without doubt the best computer geek I've ever seen. She has a knack that can't be taught; it's just the way she's wired. Her ability to think outside the box only magnifies her capability. I'd say if anybody could create that type of program, it would be Darlene. That she's part of DOP would explain how the president obtained the video."

"How can we find out for sure? We need to know if it's us or someone else."

Myra Banks groaned inwardly. For such an intelligent man, sometimes you ask the stupidest questions. "It certainly seems to me it would have to be us; otherwise, how did the president obtain it? Bernie, I think you should come right out and ask. Use the pretext of national security. You should at least get your answer."

"I'm not sure I want Williams knowing what I know."

Both sat quiet in Backersley's office for almost five minutes, Backersley deep in thought. Finally, he looked up. "I'm starting to wonder if there isn't more to this DOP Williams created than just gathering intel."

"What do you mean?" queried Banks.

"Starting with the hit on those terrorist suspects back in Indianapolis, it appears that someone, or some group, has been a step ahead of everyone in certain matters. If Williams did have such a group operating at his disposal, this DOP group would be perfectly capable of giving him all the info he would need to dispense the information that all the other agencies have acquired. He's ordered that the DOP be kept in the loop on all terrorist activities in real time, so he's always up to date. That places him in the perfect position. Don't you see?"