“The virus?”
Elliot shook his head. “We’ve detected free-floating cancer cells.”
“I see. How much time does he have?”
“I don’t know.” Before Eric could speak, Elliot continued. “I’m not just saying that. Even the best oncologists in the world can’t accurately predict how much time a patient has left. I’m sorry, Eric.”
“Me, too,” Eric said, then closed the laptop, cutting off the connection.
He had no reason to complain. They had stopped a potential pandemic, at great cost to Mark Kelly. They had quarantined the people exposed to the virus and sterilized the Sakra factory before burning it to the ground.
John was a different matter. The tech inside his body was killing him. He glanced over to John’s bubble, where John was resting peacefully.
He was going to have to make a decision about John. Soon.
He only wished the team Smith sent to Hawaii had found Huang Lei instead of an empty office. But, the OTM would never rest until they had captured the bastard who almost killed them.
The President stared at them. “How did this happen?”
Smith shook his head. “Your predecessors were committed to certain types of research. One of the men, Huang Jin, was instrumental in creating virulent bioweapons, some of the worst known to man. He became distraught when I stopped his research, and he fled to China with his son. I can only imagine how he poisoned the young man’s mind.”
“You caught him?”
Eric started to speak, but Smith raised his hand. He was proud of his young protégé and glad Eric had bounced back within the week.
Unfortunately, Mark Kelly had not been so lucky. He was still adjusting to his wheelchair, trying to make do without the use of his legs and arms. The swelling in his brain had reduced him to a quadriplegic. The OTM members were there, helping, offering moral support, but Kelly was deeply depressed as the full extent of his injury sank in.
“I’m afraid not,” he said softly.
“You mean he’s still on the loose?”
“Yes,” Eric said. “We’ve seriously degraded his ability to cause harm. We’re following the money trail. We’ve recovered thirty companies worth over five billion dollars in assets.”
“Five billion dollars? How could he have amassed that kind of money?” The President slammed his fist against the table. “Is that even possible?”
“He was a bright young man,” Smith said. “Dedicated. Idealistic.” It was a shame he was so misguided. Given more time, perhaps he could have redirected the young man’s energy. Alas, it was not meant to be. “The facility in Feofilivka has been sanitized.”
The President sighed. “Why the Russians? What did Lei hope to achieve?”
“The Russians acquired his father’s research,” Smith said.
“You mean they stole it,” the President said.
Smith nodded. “The Chinese would not allow Huang Jin to continue his work. When Jin found the Russians were continuing with his research, it only drove him further toward madness.”
“So this Huang Lei wanted to unleash a deadly virus?”
Smith shook his head. “Far from it. The Chimera virus wasn’t designed to be lethal. It is more insidious. Perhaps forty percent of those infected would suffer flu-like symptoms—”
“The flu? That’s it?”
“The flu kills fifty thousand Americans each year, Mr. President,” Eric said. “It can be deadly.”
“In smaller numbers, this virus also causes a severe form of meningitis,” Smith said. “Imagine five-hundred thousand Americans suddenly paralyzed by an inflammation of the brain and spinal cord. No, Lei planned to infect the syringes used in the influenza vaccine. Imagine as word spread that the flu vaccine was causing deaths, and in some cases, paralysis. There would have been mass panic. Then, if it was discovered to be an engineered virus, created at a Soviet facility?”
The President slumped back in his chair. “It would have been mayhem. Putin thinks he’s still fighting the Cold War. He would have assumed we did this to ourselves as a cover for pushing closer to his borders. I can only imagine Congress would have voted to deploy more interceptors for the missile shield.”
“I believe you understand,” Smith said. “I don’t believe Lei intends to kill millions. I believe he is more cunning than that. Why kill millions when thousands will do? Why start wars when sowing discontent accomplishes the same thing.”
“What is he trying to accomplish?” the President asked. “What is his strategic plan?”
Eric cleared his throat. “We can only guess, Mr. President, but we believe he wants to cripple both the US and Russia. China and India are chomping at the bit to fill that gap, especially China.”
“You have no idea where he went?”
“He had time to prepare,” Eric said. “He had the money and the means to escape. We’re still searching. When he reappears… and make no mistake, he will reappear… we will be there.”
The President sighed heavily. “Thank you, gentleman. I know I sound ungrateful, but I understand what you’ve done for your country.”
“No thanks are necessary,” Smith said. “It’s what we do. Now, we have another matter to discuss.”
Eric turned to him. “We do?”
“Yes,” Smith said, “Mr. President, effective immediately, I’m turning over the day-to-day operations of the Office to Eric. I have a few things to finish up before my retirement, but Eric will now run the Office.”
Eric swallowed hard. “I… thank you, sir.”
“Don’t look so shocked,” Smith said, finally allowing himself to smile. “You knew this day was coming. Mr. President, it’s been an honor.”
The President stood, glanced between the two of them, then snapped off a passable salute. “Mr. Smith? No words can honor the service you’ve performed for your country.”
Smith saluted back. For a moment, he felt like the raw young recruit called to speak with Truman in the basement of Davis House. “Mr. President? It has been my pleasure. Come, Mr. Wise, it is time we leave the President to his business so we can attend to ours.”
Eric followed him out of the bunker, through the tunnel connecting the White House to the Eisenhower building, and soon they were in the back of the Lincoln, with Smith giving directions to Roger to drop them off near the reflecting pool.
As the Lincoln slowed, Eric asked, “Who are we meeting?”
“You’ll understand soon enough.”
Roger pulled the Lincoln into a parking spot and Smith got out with Eric in tow, and they walked through the throngs of tourists until he saw Vasilii standing at the pool, staring across the water.
“Vasilii?” Smith said.
The old Russian turned to him, his face registering surprise. “You bring someone after all this time?”
“Eric, meet Vasilii Melamid. He occupies roughly the same position that you do.” He saw the shock on both their faces. “Yes, the Russians have an equivalent to the Office,” he said to Eric, then turned to Vasilii. “And yes, I’m stepping down.”
Vasilii nodded, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “Is good. A man of your years must get rest. Or, perhaps be put in one of those nursing homes I see on television?”
Smith laughed. “You’re not that much younger, you old bear. Soon your country will be calling you home. Eric, you can trust Vasilii.” He saw the surprise on Eric’s face. “Oh, not completely, he is still the enemy, but occasionally there are… overlaps. Places where it is of mutual interest to work together. Vasilii understands that it does no good to win the war if it means the extermination of the human race. Compromises can be made.”