He had made her swear. On the lives of her children. On the lives of her babies.
Amber slid open her top desk drawer and stared down at the horrible weapon of destruction that lay there among the pens and paper clips and pushpins.
A ring of keys.
They lay there, pretending innocence, looking like nothing. Keys to the lab, to the vault. The keys were right there. No one would think twice if she picked them up, walked out of her office, walked down the line of cubicles to the elevator. Took it to the basement. Opened the door to the lab. And the one to the vault.
The rest was a security code, and that was in her head.
Simple actions. Each one easy. Each one unobtrusive. So easy.
After that …
God.
Nothing existed beyond that thought except horror. Amber Taylor closed her eyes and prayed. She had not been to church since her husband died. Not even to take the kids. Religion and God were as dead to her as Charlie.
And then …
Something happened that had she possessed any faith she might have thought was divine intervention. But Amber lacked that belief, that optimism.
And yet.
There was a sound. Five beeps from the PA system and then a voice: “This is a security alert. This is a security alert. All employees are required to turn on your intranet. There is a critical news bulletin from Homeland Security. All employees are required to watch this bulletin. It will be broadcast in real time in sixty seconds. This is not a training exercise.”
The message repeated.
Amber blinked several times, unsure of what she was hearing. On the third repeat it logged in: Homeland Security.
Her hands lifted by reflex, her icy fingers making the necessary keystrokes, logging on, pulling up the intranet.
The screen changed. First black and then the red, white, and blue eagle shield of the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. Then the shield dissolved into a man seated in what looked like an airplane seat. He was big, blocky, in his sixties, but he looked strong. Dangerous. Amber could recognize dangerous. He wore tinted glasses, but she knew that if she could see his eyes they would be fierce.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Dr. Bishop, director of special medical services for the United States Department of Homeland Security. You are all probably aware of the tragic event that occurred in London two days ago. The world press has called this an act of terrorism, and so it is. But it is far more than that. The security at the London Royal Hospital was compromised by two or more of the employees at that facility. Those employees did not, however, do this out of choice. They were coerced. A group of terrorists made threats against the families of these people. These threats were as terrible as they were insidious. As a result, good people were forced to do terrible things.”
Amber’s hands contracted to fists.
“And while this recent act of terrorism did not occur on United States soil, the investigative divisions within Homeland Security believe that there is a strong possibility that some Americans may be victims of the same kind of coercion. Coercion that could lead to further heinous acts.”
“I am speaking now to employees in hundreds of private companies and government facilities. If you are watching this video you are employed in a critical area of viral research, energy, health sciences, or defense.” If you have been approached by people who have asked you, or attempted to force you, to do something that could lead to harm to others and damage the safety of your community, I urge you to act. If you have been threatened, or if your loved ones have been threatened, you must make the correct and courageous choice. You must contact the authorities. I know you have been told that to speak out will bring harm to your family. I know that you are afraid. Probably terrified. However, you cannot believe or trust these people. They will not keep their word. They will attempt to harm those you love even if you do what they want. Do not destroy your own life, the lives of your friends and colleagues, and, most important, the lives of your family by believing the threats of cowards and criminals.
“There is a toll-free telephone number and an e-mail address at the bottom of this screen. Use them today. Use them right now to contact me and my team. We are ready to act immediately. We will protect you and your family. And with your help, we will stop these criminals before they can hurt other families.”
There was more. At least Amber thought so, but her mind refused to process it. She sat there in her chair, alone in her office, at the monitor that was flanked by framed pictures of Emily and Mark. All she saw, however, was the telephone number.
Tears burned in her eyes.
The keys were still in the drawer. The world still turned.
“God … ,” she whispered.
Chapter Forty-three
Philadelphia International Airport
December 19, 11:39 A.M. EST
We landed under a sky so bright and sunny that it seemed like it was intended as mockery with all that was going on. As Circe and I hustled out of the gate we were met by one of the junior DMS agents from the Baltimore office, a red-haired kid named Riordan, waiting for us at the departure gate. He nodded to me, but he was looking at Circe. I glanced covertly around. Everyone was looking at Circe. Her face was neutral and I wondered if the attention was an ego boost or a total pain in the ass.
“You supposed to be our driver?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, sir. Delivery boy. Mr. Church said that you wouldn’t want a driver.”
“Nope.”
He held out a set of keys. My own keys. “Your Explorer is parked outside. My partner is getting your bags and arranging for your dog to be transported to the curb.”
He said all this to me but was still looking at Circe.
“Get her bags, too,” I said, leaning on the tone of voice enough to snap him out of his love daze. After Circe described her bag and the kid went away, she looked at me and laughed.
“What?” I asked.
“Alpha wolf bullies young pup.”
“Oh … stick a sock in it, Doc.”
She was still laughing as we stepped out into the December wind. Fifteen minutes later we were on I-95 and heading north.
Interlude Thirty-one
Valley of the Kings, Egypt
One Month Ago
REUTERS NEW STORY
CAIRO, Egypt—Yesterday, tomb raiders broke into the recently discovered burial crypt of a previously unknown mummy who many top archaeologists believe may have been the firstborn son of Pharaoh Amenhotep II. In what seems like a bizarre modern twist on Indiana Jones, Amenhotep II is believed to have been the Pharaoh during the time of Moses. If so, then biblical scholars feel confident that this son was killed by the Plague of the Firstborn, the tenth plague directed against Egypt by God, and the one that resulted in the Israelites being set free.
Archaeologist Zahi Hawass, head of Egypt’s governmental Department of Antiquities, was quoted as saying, “This was a pristine tomb. Unopened. To have broken the seals and looted it is a great loss to science.”
According to Cairo police officials, the mummy’s wrappings had been cut and long sections of skin had been removed with what appeared to be medical precision. Officials have declined to speculate on the nature and purpose of this desecration.