“But what good will keeping us silent about the cure do?” Suzanne Elliot asked. “As soon as the Mexican authorities realize we have lost touch, they’ll send someone to come check on us and the word will get out then.”
“Not if we’re all dead by the time that happens,” Shirley answered, her voice grim. “The only scenario I can think of where silencing us for a short while makes sense is if whoever is doing this knows we won’t be around to spread the word about the cure later.”
“But, that’s crazy,” Suzanne said. “Why would anyone in their right mind want to keep the existence of a cure a secret? What would they have to gain?”
“I didn’t say they weren’t crazy,” Shirley said. “But it could be as simple as money.”
“Money?” Sam asked.
Shirley smiled grimly. “I know we’re not used to thinking in terms of monetary gain,” she said, “especially considering the slave wages the CDC pays us. But do you have any idea how much money a cure would be worth to the world? Whoever controls the cure could literally ask for billions of dollars and every country in the world would be lining up to pay the ransom to save their people.”
“What if it’s not money the person wants?” Joel asked quietly. “What if the cause is ideological? Suppose a person wanted just one country or one regime to have the cure so that all of their enemies would be killed off by the plague?”
Shirley shook her head. “Whatever the reason, monetary gain, ideology, or some misguided sense of patriotism, it doesn’t matter much in the end. What matters is that for the person to succeed with their plan we all have to die.”
“But… but that’s monstrous!” Sam said forcefully.
“So is condemning millions upon millions of innocent people to a horrible death by anthrax,” said Shirley. “Once you get by that, the death of a half-dozen or so scientists doesn’t count for much.”
“But, we’re all friends here,” Lionel said. “We’ve worked and practically lived together for years. I can’t believe one of us could do such a thing.”
“Me either, but unless you want to postulate some third party hiding out somewhere close by in the jungle and spying on us, I’m afraid that’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Suzanne stood up. “Well, I for one don’t believe it for a minute. None of us could stand by and let such a thing happen to our friends.” She turned to stare at Joel. “Joel, you must be wrong. There simply has to be another reason our communications gear isn’t working right… maybe the jungle humidity has rusted the inner circuits, or the heat has fried the diodes, or something equally simple.”
Joel shrugged and turned toward his communications cubicle. “I doubt it, but I’ll run all the diagnostics again to make sure there was nothing I overlooked.”
Chapter 36
Grant Battersee was busy shuffling papers and taking phone call after phone call from doctors all over the country pleading for help in dealing with the plague. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could tell them except that the CDC was working as fast as it could to develop either a cure or at the very least a vaccine to prevent further infections and that in addition the CDC was releasing its stockpiles of antibiotics and other pharmaceutical supplies to help to ease the shortages that seemed to be cropping up everywhere.
His phone rang again almost as soon as he’d hung it up from the previous call.
“Hello!” he said, somewhat more stridently than he’d intended.
“Hello, Dr. Battersee,” a pleasant male voice said. “I have Congressman Michael O’Donnell holding for you.”
A moment later a somewhat deeper voice asked, “Dr. Battersee?”
“Yes.”
“This is Congressman Michael O’Donnell, and I am a member of the House Select Committee on National Security and also on the House Military Research and Development Subcommittee.”
“Hello, Congressman,” Battersee said in a more reasonable tone. “Of course, I know who you are and how important the work your committees do is to the nation’s welfare. However, if you are calling me to try and get CDC to work harder or to do more about the current anthrax outbreak, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you. We are working double and triple shifts and are…”
“No, no,” O’Donnell interrupted. “You misunderstand the reason for my call.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve just gotten off the phone with a person who claims to be a spy working on one of your Wildfire Teams, and this person, code-named Janus, informed me that Colonel Woodrow Blackman along with General Mac McGuire have concocted a plot to steal some plants and blood samples from one of your doctors and to use these samples for their own nefarious purposes.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding…”
O’Donnell gravely answered, “No, Doctor, I assure you I am not, and furthermore this information backs up a line of inquiry my office has been pursuing for some time into the activities of USAMRIID and Colonel Blackman. However, I have to admit this is the first time General McGuire’s name has come to my attention.”
The congressman went on to tell Battersee everything that Janus had told him about the operation and the mercenaries involved.
“Oh my God!” Battersee exclaimed. “Just a short while ago my doctor in the field in Mexico called to tell me he had specimens that he was sure would lead to a cure for the plague and that he was being pursued by a group of armed men. He asked me to arrange for a ship with a contingent of Marines aboard to meet him on the coast of Mexico to save him and the samples from the mercenaries.”
“Good,” O’Donnell said. “Then maybe we’re not too late to foil Blackman’s plan.”
“No, you don’t understand. The man I asked to arrange the pickup was General McGuire.”
“Shit!” O’Donnell exclaimed, though he very rarely cursed. “Quick, give me the details of the pickup location and what your man needs and I’ll get the admiral in charge of Naval Operations to intercede as fast as we can. Maybe we can still get those Marines there in time to save your man.”
As the chopper neared the place on his map labeled Tehuantepec, Bear could see that it was more of a large village than a city. The roads were dirt or gravel and none were paved, and there were no buildings over two stories high and damn few of them.
He tapped the pilot on the shoulder. “Circle around to where the river merges with the ocean and let’s take a look.”
The pilot nodded and banked the chopper in a wide turn, buzzing low over the small harbor where the river entered at one end and the ocean opened up at the other side. There were numerous boats on the river and in the harbor but they were all small and all seemed to be occupied by natives with no white people around.
Bear nodded. Good, they’d gotten here in time and before the doctor could make it to the open ocean. He snorted. Not that it mattered since the ship the doctor was planning on meeting was not going to be showing up.
“Okay, take us down to that beach just where the river begins to curve into the harbor.”
As soon as the helicopter’s wheels touched down, Bear’s team had grabbed the Zodiac boat and thrown it to the sand, followed quickly by their duffle bags. The men jumped to the ground and within seconds had the boat floating in the water.
Bear made a slicing motion horizontally in front of his throat and the pilot cut the engines.
“Refuel the chopper and keep it shut down until I return.”
“But, señor, I was ordered to return to Mexico City as soon as I let you off.”
Bear rested his hand on the butt of his Glock .45. “Give me the keys,” he said, holding out his other hand.