My instincts told me this whole situation was heading south, fast. I’d just written up a detailed report on the security readiness at the plant, which, if compromised, could be used as a good playbook for the bad guys. I didn’t believe in being paranoid — but cautious and skeptical, yes. I analyze a situation and take action based on the facts and the most probable outcome. That’s why I’m good at what I do. But I was stymied on this one. I just didn’t have enough facts to analyze.
The coffeemaker gurgled, signifying it was done brewing, though nobody actually brewed coffee anymore. Now they just dripped hot water through some grounds. It was easy to do and something I took for granted. Gone were the days of percolators — a type of coffee pot I’d heard about but had never used myself. I pulled a mug from the cabinet and poured myself a cup. Normally I loved the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee, but today I barely noticed it. As I took a sip, I appreciated that this was quickly turning into something I hadn’t been expecting. Something was wrong, and as the caffeine kicked in, my mind started to extrapolate what little I did know. I had a few facts and several observations that were all somehow connected.
It helped sometimes if I talked through it. I pulled my satellite phone out of my pocket and dialed the restricted access number I had for the site vice president. Prichard answered with a simple, “Yes?”
“We need to talk. I’m on my way in. I’ll be there in an hour.” It really wasn’t a question or a request.
“I’ll be here,” said Prichard.
Hmmm. No arguments, no questions about why I wanted to see him. That definitely piqued my curiosity.
I went into the living room where Pete was doing a cold read on the security evaluation report. Sometimes seemingly unrelated incidents can mean something to someone unfamiliar with the details. I needed his take on this but knew it would be a little while before he could formulate an opinion.
“When you’re done with that, see if you can hack your way into the sheriff’s LAN and get us some information. What do they know that we don’t?"
Pete’s specialty on the teams had been communications and intel. He brought that expertise with him to NeXus, making him an extremely valuable guy to have around.
“Will do,” was all he had to say. “What are you gonna be doing?”
“I need to go back and talk with Prichard. He knows something he’s not telling us.”
With that, I threw on a light jacket and left for the plant.
CHAPTER 20
Prichard was sitting in his office talking to someone when I arrived fifty-eight minutes later.
“Hi, Nick. Come on in,” he said, getting up and shutting the door behind me — something he didn’t do the last time I was there.
As I moved into his office, my eyes were drawn to the woman sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs. Curious as to why she was there, I just looked at Prichard. He knew I was coming, and the fact that this woman was there meant that she was part of this somehow. The thought went through my mind that he probably wanted to see me, too, which might explain why he agreed to meet me on such short notice.
“Hello. Marti Callahan,” she said brusquely, reaching a hand out to me.
I glanced again at Prichard, who was taking his seat on the leather couch, obviously intending me to meet her. I took Marti’s hand in mine and returned her gaze.
“Hi. Nick Connor,” I replied, moving over to the second armchair. There was a faint scent of perfume hanging in the air. They say that smells evoke powerful memories. It had been a long time since I’d been in the presence of a woman who woke up my senses as this woman was doing right now.
Prichard spoke up. “I asked Marti to be in on this meeting. She’s our senior resident NRC inspector and just flew in from Washington D.C. I’ve briefed her on what you’re doing here, so you may speak freely in front of her.”
I knew that each nuclear power plant had a representative from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission on site to keep a watchful eye on how the plant was being run, though Marti looked young for such a responsible position. She appeared to be in her early-thirties. I knew you only get the position of senior resident after many years of experience or because you’re very good at what you do. Because of her age, I assumed this meant she was very good at what she did.
She was an attractive woman with a slight build, short, wavy black hair and an almost milky white skin under a gray silk blouse that hung gracefully off her shoulders. Dark blue business slacks covered what I assumed would be attractive legs, though why I was thinking that I didn’t know. Offsetting her ethereal complexion were almost steel-gray eyes with just a hint of makeup on them. The combination of all this created a striking effect, which would have caused me to notice her in a crowded bar had she not been sitting in a chair next to mine. She looked decidedly out of place in an industrial facility where almost everyone wore jeans, steel-toed boots and hard hats.
When I arrived I’d assumed this was my meeting, though now that the NRC was there, I wasn’t so sure. Nonetheless, I turned to Prichard and began.
“There’s something I felt you should know. Last evening after the drill, I stopped by The Tavern for a beer. There were two guys in there who tried to pick a fight with me.”
“You don’t look any worse for wear.”
“No, but they do.”
“You didn’t think it was important to tell me this earlier today?” Prichard said with some irritation in his voice.
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t. Bar fights aren’t necessarily unusual in the business I’m in. Besides, at the time I had no reason to believe it had anything to do with the plant. But after the events of this morning, I felt it was important to bring you up to speed on this.”
“If it’s not that unusual, why tell me now?” Prichard asked.
“These guys weren’t a couple of locals out for a beer in the middle of the week. What they did was deliberate. They were waiting for me.”
“Waiting for you?” Prichard paused for a moment, folded his hands, put them to his mouth, and looked over them at me as he absorbed the information. It appeared that he didn’t know what it meant either, though he was no doubt questioning the odds of these otherwise seemingly unrelated incidents happening in the last day.
“Where are these gentlemen now?” Prichard asked.
“My guess is that they’re in a hospital somewhere. When I left them, they were in need of some serious medical attention.”
“I see,” he said as if waiting for me to continue.
He knew there was certainly more or I wouldn’t have asked for this meeting. “You’ve got a dead plant employee washed up on a beach not far from here. As you’ve already noted, it’s hard for someone to fall in around here accidently. You also said the locks on the gates and fences hadn’t been disturbed. That means a ‘Farmer Brown,’ a term referring to an insider who was batting for the other side.”
Prichard looked at Marti, causing me to do the same. Her demeanor hadn’t changed, which I found strange. I didn’t know her well enough yet to venture an opinion as to why.
I continued. “All of this happened coincident with my being here and doing an evaluation of your security status.” I paused for a moment, to avoid sounding rushed or amped up. “This morning at the beach, you said you didn’t know if the dead woman was married to someone else on your staff. My guess is she was. And I’m betting he’s someone with a critical piece of information related to the operation of this facility.”