Everyone in the room was stunned, especially Bernard Backersley of the CIA. How in the hell?
Styles and Starr were up front in the cockpit of the jet, headed for Baltimore and talking with Christman. Styles left the group and walked rearward.
"Care to join us up front?" Styles asked Phillips.
"Be right there." Thirty seconds later, she joined the three men in the cockpit of their jet.
"Okay, guys, here's the deal. I think I made a mistake that may leave a door ajar for someone to find me, which would lead to us. I thought this could wait, but now I'm not so sure," Styles asserted.
"I vote we go dark," stated Christman emphatically.
"So do I," agreed Starr.
"I need to see my mother, but you know where I stand," offered Phillips.
"You guys know what this means, right? We lose contact with everyone we know, probably for the rest of our lives. We'd lose pensions, medical benefits, the whole deal."
"Unless they agree to go dark with us," interjected Phillips.
Styles looked at her. "You sure you can do that?"
"I could create our own little witness protection program: my mother, your father, and anyone else Starr or J. C. might want to bring along."
"No one on my end," Starr said flatly.
Christman was thoughtful for a few moments. "There's someone I need to speak with, but after that, no."
"I need to speak with my dad," asserted Styles. "I'm sorry to spring this on you like this, but we can't afford to take chances. Phillips, you said you could make us disappear? Make us disappear. Start ASAP."
"As you know, I already started with you. I've already deleted everything from military records to social security. People who know you will just wonder what happened. The smart ones might guess, but it won't matter; they won't find us."
"For what it's worth, I wish it hadn't come to this," Styles said in an almost apologetic tone.
Starr looked at him and declared, "We agreed to wage this war. If this is where it takes us, then this is where we all decided to go. As the three musketeers said—"
"Not to keep being repetitive, but you three have thought this through carefully and understand just how it will affect us, right?"
"Marv, chill. We know. We three have talked about it. We're in with no regrets," Starr affirmed.
"J. C., how fast can you get me to Sarasota?" Styles questioned.
"From here, hour and ten minutes, give or take."
"Do it. Thanks." He retreated to the rear of the plane and called his father.
"Hi, Dad, it's me. I need you to meet me at the Sarasota-Bradenton airport in about an hour and fifteen minutes. It's critical. Sorry for the short notice, but it's necessary." After a short pause, Styles replied, "Yeah, meet me in the main bar. If you get there first, grab a table off to the side. Keep this to yourself. See you soon."
Phillips called him over to her workstation and motioned for Starr to join them. "I've been working on the video of the yacht I've been watching. I went back over it with the same program that I used on the Alaska lake video — you know, the one that was able to distinguish heat signatures? Something interesting happened the night before the attack. Watch this." She played the program on the large LED screen. It showed three orange figures very close to one another. After a few moments, one of them seemed to break away from the other two, and then the color of the object dimmed before disappearing altogether.
Starr asked, "What do you make of that?"
Styles answered, "Well, something eliminated that third heat source."
"Correct," agreed Phillips. "I've watched it about ten times, and with the hour involved, three fifteen in the morning, I think that two people threw a third overboard, and sinking in the water caused the loss of the heat signature. It's only a guess, but it's an educated guess based on a theory I came up with. For argument's sake, let's say that is the boat, which I think it is, that picked up the diver that killed President Williams. If the boat is registered outside of this country, at some point it would have had to go through customs. There would be a record of everyone on board. Now all of a sudden there is an extra person. If the boat is rechecked, how would they explain that? The answer is to keep the number the same, which involves eliminating one, thus tossing somebody into the water. It would be easy enough to just switch the photograph on the paperwork. If they're checked now, everything matches."
Styles whistled softly. "That's a hell of a deduction, Darlene. It explains a lot, answers a lot of questions. I think you've hit it."
"I think you're right. It makes good common, logical sense," Starr inserted.
"As soon as I'm done talking to my father, we'll head for Baltimore and come up with a plan," Styles added.
"Hey, guys, we're about twenty minutes out of Sarasota!" J. C. hollered back at them.
36
Back in the Oval Office and still drinking coffee, President Lamar demanded, "Okay, Irving. Just how did the CDC end up with that horrid toxin with their people when the people who are supposed to find it can't?"
"I have no clue. This Watson woman is sticking to her guns about not revealing information. I talked with Director Lang, and he believes that she will continue to do so, no matter what we threaten her with. She apparently is very strong on conviction. He threatened her with her job, and she told him point-blank that she didn't care. You, yourself, threatened her with jail. Her stance is that we possess it, and that should suffice."
"Nothing suffices until I say so."
"Yes, Mr. President. I agree with you; unfortunately, Ms. Watson does not."
"There are ways."
"Do you seriously want to go down that road? Ms. Watson has a lot of friends. If you try anything that is not completely above board, it will bite us in the ass." He regretted the last word immediately, as his boss did not approve whatsoever of swearing, though on the rare occasion he had done so himself. Luckily, he received only a hard glare. "Sorry."
"How do we know that the entire batch has indeed been recovered? Are we supposed to just take her word for it?"
"Sir, that was discussed with Director Lang. He believes, with certainty, that Ms. Watson is correct in this assessment."
"But how do we know?"
"In truth, I guess we don't. If you think it's appropriate, we can continue looking."
"That makes me rest a bit easier, Irving. Keep it low-key, though."
"In other words, don't let Lang know?"
"Exactly."
"Sir, I have one more thought on this subject."
"By all means, let me hear it."
"Invoking the KISS concept—Keep It Simple, Stupid—my feeling is that Ms. Watson was given this toxin by the people who recovered it. That's a gimme. If that's the case, and I'm sure it is, this new group does not want to be found. Looking down the road, this just might play well into our hands. Plainly speaking, the fact this new group found it speaks volumes of their ability. Sometimes it's just best to let a sleeping dog lie."
"So you are suggesting just letting this go?"
"I'm saying it is strongly worthy of your consideration. All things considered, we got lucky. Why kick that?"