Part 25 (1/2)
Nothing was found to be wrong.
All pa.s.sengers exhibiting any flu-like symptoms were swabbed and tested as were all members of the crew. Nothing of concern had emerged.
This was puzzling because if Tippert's death was the result of a virus, that virus should thrive in the s.h.i.+p's confined environment.
They'd expect to find some further evidence of it.
Perez noted that the pa.s.sengers in the adjoining cabin were tested and a female child did exhibit cold symptoms so mild as to be insignificant.
Early indications were that a quarantine of the s.h.i.+p was not necessary.
The cruise line intended to initiate a complete scrub down after the s.h.i.+p docked and all the pa.s.sengers disembarked.
Marcott paged through his notes.
This case made him uneasy because it was baffling.
The external hemorrhaging from orifices was characteristic of the Ebola virus. But there were no other symptoms. It was as if something were mimicking Ebola. And if that wasn't bad enough, there was the speed at which this thing moved.
Marcott shook his head and cursed to himself.
He punched an extension on his phone line.
Once the connection was made, he activated his speaker phone.
”Yes, Wayne?”
”Isabel, have you got the samples from 92787 ready to s.h.i.+p to Atlanta?”
”We're good to go. I called ahead. They're standing by.”
”Thanks.”
Marcott reviewed his notes again.
His office had followed procedure and alerted the U.S. Centers for Disease Control.
Those hotshots need to take a good hard look at this case fast, because as far-fetched as it sounds, it looks to me like we may have a new killer on our hands.
33.
Fairfax County, Virginia.
In an airy, secured section of a subterranean floor of the National Anti-Threat Center, intelligence a.n.a.lysts hunted for ex-CIA scientist Gretchen Sutsoff.
They focused on monitors and keyboards, processing data at a configuration of desks that suggested the bridge of a s.p.a.cecraft.
The Information Command Unit: what insiders called the ICU, where the nature of the work was top-secret cyber sleuthing.
ICU a.n.a.lysts had diverted some of their resources from other cla.s.sified a.s.signments to accommodate Robert Lancer's request for a ”full-court press” to find Gretchen Sutsoff.
He needed to interview her about Project Crucible.
The room was taut with quiet pressure, underscored by the clicking of keys. In a process known as data mining, experts searched secure government archives, property records, court records, news articles, obituaries, Web sites, chat rooms, blogs and social networks--just about everything available online.
They also searched law enforcement databases, drivers' records, criminal records, death records, obits, tax records, corporate records and fee-based sources. And through international agreements, they were able to scour government holdings from foreign countries.
Sandra Deller, the chief a.n.a.lyst handling Lancer's request, had her eyes fixed to her monitor when Lancer arrived at her desk.
”Anything?” he asked.
”Nothing,” she said. ”In some smaller, developing island countries, they haven't transferred files to computerized databases. It's d.i.c.kensian. We have to request manual searches of paper files--it takes forever. There are cases where departments have lost records in hurricanes or earthquakes.”
”What about our sources? Like the IRS? Does she receive a pension?”
”Nothing's been found.”
”She may have changed her name.”
”We're looking into that, too.”
”Let me know if you get a hit.”
Back at his desk, Lancer loosened his tie and resumed writing his latest report on the CIA file to his supervisor. He'd revisited his list of sources from around the world. No one had gotten back to him with anything on his requests for help. He needed to close the loop on Foster Winfield's concerns about Crucible.
Lancer also noted the separate case he was pursuing out of Dar es Salaam, the claim of an imminent attack. He looked at his calendar. Time was ticking down on the Human World Conference in New York.
Was it a target?
There were so many other events and potential soft targets: airports, malls, amus.e.m.e.nt parks. It was overwhelming, but Lancer knew he was not alone in a.s.sessing threats. Other agencies were doing similar work.
His phone rang.
It was Martin Weller at the East Africa section. Reaching for the handset, Lancer glanced at his watch. He had fifteen minutes to finish his report before the meeting.
”Lancer.”
”Bob, we may have something coming to advance Said Salelee's information. We're picking it up from police sources in Africa.”
”Can you give me a summary, Marty? I've got to finish reports before the E-3.”
”Just some chatter. Something major in the works.”
”Where? When? Who? What? I need more, Marty.”