“Yes,” Barry nodded, then looked over at Christine. “It’s good, but it’ll be more significant to talk about after you cover the account information.”
Olivia motioned toward the screen, “Kevin, would you mind going over the account data for Eric?”
“Sure,” he answered, as he stood up and commandeered the cord to the projector. Looking at Eric, he expounded, “I put together a flow chart.” Adept with the projector, Kevin got it plugged in quickly, hit a few keys, and seconds later the pull-down screen glowed with a six-foot image of his computer’s LCD. “We’ll go through this from a bird’s-eye view and drill down as necessary into the details.”
Kevin stood up and walked over to the wall. It was covered in glowing boxes and triangles connected by labeled lines. He spent ten minutes going through the steps, following the money from the transaction back to an account held by Najid Almasi’s father at a Swiss brokerage—an account controlled by Najid. Kevin talked for a moment about how the data had been acquired—at least where that extra information was available—as well as how confident he was with each step in the process. His bet, he explained, was placed on the money coming from Najid Almasi.
“How confident are you?” Eric asked.
Still standing in front of the room with the contents of his computer screen glowing behind him, Eric simply said, “Ninety-eight percent.”
“That solid?” Eric was not surprised.
“Yes,” Kevin confirmed.
Eric looked around the room. No one voiced disagreement. He stopped on Olivia. “This is your baby. What do you think?”
“I agree with Kevin,” she said.
“And you’ve been over all the data in detail?” Eric asked.
“In detail. As did Barry and Christine.” Olivia tried her best to keep a clinical air about her. Outward excitement over the importance of the account data would undermine her credibility with Eric. It would make him want to look at the data himself.
Eric leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “Good. Very good. I think we can say for certain something is up. Katherine, please notify your boys at the CIA.”
“I have,” she answered. “Preliminarily. I’ll let them know you concur.”
“Let’s see if we can figure out what we’ve got here.” Eric looked to his right. “Barry—” He stopped and looked back at Olivia.
Olivia was surprised that he was deferring to her. He was trusting her to run the investigation. She swelled with pride as she turned to Barry. “Please tell us what you and Christine came up with.”
Barry smiled at Olivia, also deferring, which didn’t surprise her. Left to his own devices, Barry Middleton might turn into a brilliant troll living under a bridge, but with someone to lead him who appreciated his talents, Barry was a loyal team player.
He leaned over the table. “This is going to be really exciting.” All of his pent-up, squirmy excitement was coming through his voice. He took a deep breath and sat back, then looked over to his right. “Christine found it. I’ll let her go through the details.”
Barry motioned for Kevin to pass the projector connection cable across the table to him. He plugged it into his own computer.
Christine looked away and flushed. She clearly didn’t want to be in the spotlight. She cleared her throat, sat up straight in front of her laptop, and pointed at the image of Barry’s computer monitor, projecting only blue on the screen. “Barry will have something for us to look at in a second. Without going into the technical details, I was able to collect data that ties a couple of satellite phones to Najid Almasi.”
Eric sat up and smiled. “I already like where this is going.”
“One of the phones hasn’t been used in days,” Christine said, “but one has been steadily calling numbers all over Europe and the Middle East for the past forty-eight hours.”
“Who is he calling?” Eric asked.
“This is better,” Barry interrupted.
The computer screen projected on the wall flashed from solid blue to the image of a map.
Christine proceeded, “I’ve been focusing on the origin of the calls rather than gathering information about who’s on the other end.” She pointed at the projected map, and all eyes in the dimly lit room turned to the screen.
Olivia couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Christine continued, “This is a map of eastern Uganda. You know the departure city of each of the airline tickets we’re tracking put all of the men in Nairobi. This part of Uganda isn’t maybe but a six- or eight-hour drive from there. We think Najid Almasi is in or near a little town in Uganda.” She stood up and walked over to the map, pointed to a cluster of short roads at the intersection of two others, north of a big green-colored park area. “Kapchorwa.”
Olivia gasped.
Chapter 50
Najid turned away from watching the two young men run. “Seven doctors were coming this way up the road. They are dead now.”
Dr. Kassis nodded.
“More doctors will come with soldiers—or without—but there will be more soldiers eventually. We cannot hold out against the Ugandan army if they come in force. We didn’t come here prepared for that kind of confrontation.”
“So we leave,” replied the doctor.
“Yes, we leave. However, we need more time. We need to get these men on their planes before the world understands what evil face this Ebola virus has exposed here. Once they understand that evil—the way that we understand it—we will be out of time.” Najid looked down the road at his two runners nearing the place where the diesel tank stood.
“But what do you hope to gain by burning the village?”
Najid turned and looked at Dr. Kassis, unable to read anything unspoken. The Tyvek, the mask, and goggles hid his face. The goggles pulled at the skin on the doctor’s face and contorted the subtle movement of muscles around his eyes, and the mask fogged and dripped inside with condensed sweat. Looking at Kassis wasn’t much more effective than looking at a telephone for unspoken inflections during a conversation.
Najid took a breath. “I am not an evil man.”
“Of course not,” Dr. Kassis instantly offered.
“It was never my wish to kill any of these people, certainly not these villagers. They have done nothing, aside from being unlucky enough to be here when airborne Ebola arose.” Najid thought for a moment about how to put his thoughts into words. “Perhaps one day if the West prevails, they will work their way back through events and figure out what happened here. If they do, their history writers will paint Najid Almasi in colors more evil than Adolf Hitler. My family’s name will become an epithet of evil in the next century.”
Najid drew a deep breath to cover the pain he felt at that possibility. Such a thought would be enough to break his father’s heart. “But if we prevail, this Kapchorwan incident will be seen as it is, a necessary tragedy. These people, like the soldiers in ten thousand armies since men first picked up swords and swung them at their enemies, unwittingly and unwillingly pay for the victories of their generals and kings.”
Najid looked in Dr. Kassis’s eyes and did his best to convey the gravity he saw in his decision. “I understand what I do, and why. It is not evil that drives me, but necessity. I wish to keep this strain of Ebola and knowledge of it hidden in this village for as long as I can.”
Dr. Kassis said, “Most Africans are uneducated folk.”
“I am aware of this.” Najid didn’t like being schooled, and he let his tone communicate his displeasure.