Blinding Fear (13 page)

Chapter 20

Gnash and Javad silently reviewed the data that was arrayed in front of them. There were many reports, graphs, pie charts, spread sheets and other forms of analytic compilation. On occasion they would refer to photographic or video evidence projected on the big-screen monitor. Much of the intelligence had been derived from domestic agents and resources. A smaller portion originated from foreign authors and agencies.

One of them was satisfied, the other was not.

They were again meeting in the NSA conference room to track the course of efforts to control the “outbreak.”

“You can see the trends,” Gnash said.

“No question,” Javad agreed.

“We and our foreign associates have things under control,” Gnash added, “but exposures continue to occur at a regular rate. Astronomical forums and other on-line sites are becoming another annoying source of contagion transmission. We’ve been able to quash the vast majority but some remain untreated.”

“I don’t know if there’s much else we can do to significantly slow things further,” Javad noted as he pored over the data. “There are too many ways, too many places people can share what they found. We can’t monitor them all.”

“I talked to the Director last night,” Gnash continued. “He laid it out in no-uncertain terms. The Emergency Committee told her they need more time to implement counter-measures. Even then they don’t know how effective they will be. They’ve given us carte blanche to do whatever we need to keep the infections from getting totally out control.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to stop them,” Javad pointed out. “People are going to expose themselves and not even know it. Then they talk and they share. They instinctively want to tell someone else the exciting new thing they’ve discovered. Sooner or later there’s going to be a wide-spread outbreak.”

“True,” Gnash responded, “but now that we’ve taken over the CBAT website and set up our own servers to accept any new exposures, we’ll have much better control. When they send in the details of what they think is their new comet, they’ll get the warning letter. The same thing applies to astronomy chatrooms and subreddits. If somebody tries to reveal their discovery, we’ll inoculate them. Obviously, the e-mail has been worded strongly enough to keep the vast majority from immediately jumping on social media. You can see it here,” he gestured toward the many documents arrayed across the table. “The inoculation success rate is around 90%. If and when someone like Mr. Whalen or the other 10% or so we’ve discovered, are unsuccessfully inoculated, we’ll immediately do whatever is necessary to maintain the quarantine. And that is exactly what happened in some isolated cases.” He picked up a single sheet of paper. “Let’s see.....all tolled to date, worldwide there have been only 23 sterilizations. I’ve personally handled 11 while the rest have been accomplished by outside contractors here and abroad. Not nearly as many as I’d expected, though. From all we can tell I would have to say our efforts have been largely successful.”

Javad paused for a moment, thinking. “
Your
efforts, I must say.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Gnash said, intently looking at Javad.

Javad refused to look at him. “Quite honestly I’m beginning to find your methods......excessive. I don’t think it was necessary to take out Mr. Beckett.”

“He was the ticking time bomb. He probably discovered the microscopic evidence the Cambridge operation was no accident. If he’d continued down that investigatory road he would have eventually discovered the overall operation. His next step would have been to take it to the mayor or governor; perhaps even higher. I’m sure you can imagine what a disaster that would have been!”

Javad was unmoved. “Perhaps we could have called him in to reveal the true nature of the threat. After all, every human on the planet is in this thing together. There are already thousands of individuals at the highest levels of governmental, here and abroad, who know what’s happening. I’m sure he.....”

“What’s wrong with you! Are you going soft or something! After careful vetting, those other individuals were brought into the inner circle because of their deep and overriding concern for the greater good of all humanity. There were, and continue to be, some officials at the very highest levels of government in a number of countries who have no idea what is happening. Ours included. They can’t be trusted to keep the threat a secret. In the same vein, no one vetted Beckett as to his views on existentialistic threats, nor did we have time or inclination to do so. Once he found the scent he had to be taken out. Period!”

Javad leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, folded his hands and began to look around the table at the results of their operation, deep in thought.

Gnash continued to stare at him with a growing sense of unease, then finally cut into the silence. “All right Javad. Knock off the BS! What’s going on? I thought you agreed with what we’re trying to do here? I thought you
wanted
to be part of all this—that you volunteered?” He spread his arms wide above the table.

“I was assigned to this operation, okay!” he snapped. “Yes, my boss gave me a summary of what it entailed. Yes, I agreed to the severity of the measures we might have to take. But now.....when I start to see the bodies piling up.....I just don’t know.” He stopped for a moment, then continued with what appeared to be renewed purpose. “Maybe there is such a thing as a people’s right to know their collected and common destinies—to know when and how they will pass from this life into whatever lies beyond.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Gnash snarled, failing to see his own ironic exclamation. “Stop being a philosophical, naive fool! You sound like some kind of religious zealot! Look at the big picture! We’re trying to ensure that all of us have a life that isn’t going to end in a few months! If this thing breaks out into the public consciousness all of us are toast: You, me, your wife and kids, the kids around the corner, the kids on the other side of the world in some isolated piece of nowhere! Doesn’t it make more sense that we help those masses out there by keeping them in blissful ignorance so we can better deal with the threat?”

Javad slowly shook his head. “Sorry. I just don’t see it anymore.”

Gnash was suddenly calm. He stood up. “Then you’re done here. Get out and report back to your boss. I’ll let him know you’re coming. Of course you understand you’ll need to sign some non-disclosure documents before you leave tonight and that any violation of those documents and the agreements they contain would bring grave consequences?”

Javad said nothing in response; staring straight ahead, his face vacant of any expression.

“Javad!”

“Yes, I understand,” he responded, his voice dead flat.

“Then get out!”

Javad pushed backed from the table and stood. They looked at each other, then Gnash turned his back, pretending to look at the TV monitor behind them. As he did, Javad quickly, yet silently, picked up multiple pieces of paper from the table, then reached into Gnash’s open briefcase and blindly grabbed several others. He placed them all into his open briefcase and closed it. He left the room without looking at or acknowledging Gnash in any other way.

As the door closed, Gnash sat back down and retreated into deep thought for several minutes. Finally, he dug around in his briefcase for a few moments and pulled out a business card. He picked up the telephone and punched in a long series of numbers.

“It’s Gnash. We’ve got another problem.”

Chapter 21

With a bit of relief, Claire felt the Stearman biplane’s wheels touchdown on the runway of KS Spaceport. She’d enjoyed the two-hour, scenic flight from DFW International Airport but was nonetheless glad to be on solid ground again.

Scott Service taxied toward one of the smaller hangars. Once inside he killed the engine, hopped out, ran to grab a small ladder and help Claire down. As she stood on the polished concrete floor and pulled off her flight helmet, he opened the small luggage compartment and pulled out her carry-on bag and larger suitcase. He placed them on the floor, took off his helmet and tossed it back into the pilots seat.

As he finished he asked, “You must be thirsty. Let me get you something to drink. We’ve got soft drink and snack machines in the shuttle waiting room. Coke, Pepsi, fruit drink, bottled water? How about a snack?”

“Water’d be fine. Thanks!”

As he walked quickly away she shook out her hair, trying to restore it to some kind of normalcy, noting at the same moment she was already beginning to sweat. ‘No, wait!’ she joked to herself. ‘Women don’t sweat, they glisten.’ Then again, she was in Texas. The temperature had to be close to 100, in spite of the fact she was in the shade and it was autumn.

Looking around the hangar she could see the large space was meticulously maintained. Everything seemed to be in its proper place, neatly arranged and clean. The walls, ceiling and aircraft door were fully insulated and looked freshly painted. Two other fixed-wing aircraft and a helicopter, each looking as if they’d been recently washed and polished, were lined up next to the Stearman. They were also painted navy blue and yellow but in differing styles. There wasn’t the slightest hint of oil, grease or dirt on or beneath them. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was for her benefit.

Service returned with the cold bottled water and handed it to her. He could see her looking around as she took a big swig. He pointed somewhat proudly to each of the aircraft in turn as he spoke. “These are the other guest shuttle aircraft I mentioned. The two-engine plane is a 1978 Cessna 421. Seats 6 and has a range of about 1,700 miles. That sleek, little single-engine is a new Cessna TT. She’s state-of-the-art and really sweet! She’ll take four passengers in comfort 1,000 miles at about 235 miles per hour. She’s one of the fastest single-engine, corporate planes in the world. The helicopter is a 6-passenger 2005 Bell 429. One of these days I plan to be certified in it, too.”

“Mr. Seok really needs all of these?”

“Oh yea! As I said, there are all kinds of people coming and going all the time from all over the world: government, private industry, Hollywood, you name it! He’s also got a couple of corporate jets in the hangar next to this one. They’re both Gulfstreams. One’s a G650ER. It’ll take 19 passengers in style 7,500 miles non-stop at around 600 miles per hour and near 50,000 feet. He’s also got a G150. It takes four to six passengers 3,000 miles at about 460. Many aviation buffs consider them to be the top of the heap when it comes to corporate jets.”

“Does your boss really need all this expensive flying hardware?”

“If you were going to shell out a boatload of bucks for a joyride into low-Earth orbit, wouldn’t you expect every part of the experience to be first class?”

“Yea, I guess so,” Claire said. She walked over to the nearest aircraft, the Cessna TT. She ran her hand over the gleaming fiberglass fuselage. It did feel as if it’d been recently polished.

“Once we officially get up and running,” Service continued, “one of Kay’s limos or aircraft will pick you up wherever you are in the world and deliver you directly here in unabashed luxury. No need for you to schedule regular taxis, boring limos or commercial fights. We’ll handle it all: First class, door to door.”

Just then a navy blue and yellow, covered electric golf cart zipped into the hangar through the main doors. It squealed to a stop in front of Claire’s bags. An attractive young Asian woman, dressed in denim shorts, the usual Cowboy’s T-shirt and flip-flops, jumped out of the driver’s seat and placed them in the back then walked toward Claire.

As she did she turned to Service and with a big smile said, “Hey, Scott! We still on for tonight?”

“You bet! Six still okay?”

“Sure! See you then.” Quickly she turned back to Claire as Service began the process of securing the Stearman. “I’m Christina Miyamoto,” she said as she extended her hand. “Kay has asked me to be your host for your stay with us. I’ll also be your personal chauffeur. If you have any questions, just ask. No question is off-limits, although I may not have all the answers. If you need to go anywhere, just let me know by text and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

As the two shook hands Claire smiled and asked. “Is there anyone over 25 in this organization and is everybody a Dallas Cowboy’s fan?”

Christina laughed. “Yes and no. Actually, we’ve got a very diverse work force. I’d guess that most of Kay’s employees are well over forty and composed of virtually every nationality. He likes for the younger ones, like Scott and I, to start at the bottom of the ladder and work our way up, even if we’ve got lots of education or relevant experience. Me for example: I’ve got a Master’s in Finance from Texas A&M. I’m hoping to get into the financial side of things down the road a bit. In the meantime, I’m happy. He pays us well, gives good benefits and is great guy to work for. Anyway, Kay thinks the ground-floor-up approach cultivates the correct work ethic. You won’t see any 20-somethings with Ph.ds around here hired right out of Stanford or MIT running the show. He wants team members who’ve been ‘seasoned’ in the workplace and life in general. And some of the more insane ones around here root for the Texans.” She laughed again then looked at her smart phone. “We’d better get going. We’ve got about 20 minutes to get you to your room and then back to the main office for your appointment with Kay.”

Claire walked to the cart and sat down in the cushy passenger seat as Christina hopped in and quickly took off. In a moment they burst out of the cool hangar into the blazing mid-afternoon sun. She was very thankful for the cart’s sun shade.

As they drove Christina provided additional background on the massive complex. Claire had assumed she’d get most of the details directly from Seok but what Christina was saying would help her with new questions for the boss himself.

She pointed to the eight-story buildings. “The top two stories of each are reserved for VIPs and their guests. Each has two, two-bedroom, two-bath luxury apartments. Once the spaceport gets into full swing, along with other governmental and industry types, actually-paying guests will be housed there. They’ll need to be here two weeks before launch for training and acclimation, so we want them to be very comfortable and relaxed.”

“Looks like he’s spared no expense.”

“Yes, and it gets better. On the bottom floor of each building are two restaurants. Each will be a different kind of cuisine and generally upscale. I’ve heard they’ve been negotiating with a major, high-end steakhouse chain. Rumor has it that it’s Ruth’s Chris. Another name that’s being whispered around is Gordon Ramsey.”

“Yea,” Claire added. “I’ve seen his reality TV shows a few times. Personally find him a bit much but love his taste in food and success as a restaurateur.”

Christina turned down a freshly asphalted street that Claire could see from a street sign was named “Busan Avenue.”

“Sounds like a Korean name.” Claire said as she pointed at the sign.

“Yep. Every street here is named after a Korean city. Kay wanted to honor his home country in some way.”

“That’s interesting. I’ve heard that his early life there was pretty horrific; that he faced a lot of persecution because of his mixed-race heritage.”

“You’re right about his early life, but once he got into high school, things started calming down. By the time he got into college he was well respected for his intellect and achievements. He made another big decision once he got into his mid-twenties: He forgave everyone he could remember who’d abused him. He even wrote letters to some of them. He realized that to harbor such destructive feelings would doom him to a life of unresolved anger and frustration. He credits that decision as one of the keys that opened the doors for his successes as a businessman and life in general.”

“Really!” Claire responded. “Pretty amazing! Not a whole lot of people could’ve done that, including me!” She also realized she now had a whole new line of questioning for Seok.

As they drove down the street Claire recognized that this was what she had seen from the air and assumed to be a housing development of some kind.

Christina continued her guided tour monologue. “These are duplex homes for the employees who live too far away to commute and decided instead to move here. Most are two-bed, two-bath but some are three-bed for employees who decided to bring spouses and kids. Some are one-bed for singles. Residents pay rent that is close to the market price for the region, which is fairly low. The company pays for everything else except TV, phone and internet.”

Claire couldn’t help but be impressed again by the sheer scale of what Seok had done here. She did have some reservations, however. “No offense,” she quipped, “but you’re almost painting a picture of Mr. Seok being some kind of fairy godfather, benevolently looking after your every need.”

Christina shook her head and snorted quietly. “Yea, that’s the typical reaction of most of our guests when they first arrive. But make no mistake, it’s not all peaches and cream here. Kay’s a great boss. But like many very wealthy men who’ve fought tooth and nail for everything they have, he expects nothing less from us. If we screw up or slack off in any way he’ll be right there in your face. He demands complete accountability from every one of us for everything we do or fail to do. There’ve been a few employees who were here one day and gone the next. But most of us prefer it that way. We know exactly what’s expected of us. If we blow it, we know there’ll be immediate and appropriate consequences. If we succeed, we also know we’ll be commended and rewarded accordingly. I might add that Kay has a very generous bonus program for any employee who finds a better, faster or more efficient way to accomplish any job.”

She paused in her running commentary as she turned down another road labeled “Seoul Boulevard,” then added, “Kay has reserved a two-bed unit for you. This is it just ahead.”

They pulled into the driveway of one of the duplexes. Claire noted it was typical of any modern home: tastefully constructed, decorated and landscaped. Christina briskly got out the cart, retrieved Claire’s bags and headed to the front door.

Claire followed and was relieved to find the interior wonderfully cool. She slowly walked around the interior taking in the refined finishes and colors. The furniture looked sophisticated but comfortable. She’d expected a “hotel” look but was gratified the interior decorator had discriminating tastes. Again, Seok had gone to great lengths to ensure his guest’s comfort.

Christina came out of the bedroom where she’d deposited Claire’s luggage and handed her the key. “I’m sorry you don’t have more time to freshen up but we’re supposed to be in Kay’s office in 10 minutes. One of the things he’s famous for is punctuality. Wherever he goes he insists that he be on time. His drivers and planning teams make sure that happens without fail. There’ve been instances where he’s arrived on time for important meetings but turned around and left when he was kept waiting for more than a few minutes. He expects the same of all his employees. And since I want to keep my job we’d better get a move on!”

“Of course.” Claire replied as they headed back out the door. “I’m used to this kind of thing. Dealing with people and events in the news tends to fill my life with unpredictability. I must say, I find it refreshing to interview a very busy CEO who doesn’t keep me waiting for hours. And believe me, it’s happened on more than one occasion!”