Independence Day Plague (29 page)

He pulled out a crumpled piece of newsprint from his backpack. The schedule of events listed the parade at ten, reading of the Declaration at eleven with the Smithsonian festival running from nine in the morning until sunset. The museums closed by six except for special invitation-only parties being held in each.

For the last three days, Mitchell repeatedly walked through the Smithsonian Mall between the Capitol Building and distant Lincoln Memorial memorizing the features and noting the increase of security fences and checkpoints. Ten-foot fences surrounded the Folklife Festival to control crowd flow in and out of the festival grounds and through the museums. In order to enter a museum, the person needed to exit the Mall park grounds through erected police checkpoints and go through another normal security inspection and metal detector right inside the museum.

And again, visitors had to leave one fenced area, through checkpoints and cross the street that divided the Smithsonian Mall and the Monument Park to enter another fenced area that ran around the Washington Monument and all the way to Lincoln Memorial. Although the space could contain thousands of people, the fences interfered with free movement.

Studying past celebrations, Mitchell discovered that crowds gathered in two main areas: near the Capitol for the concert and at the other end of the hill and valley park area that led from the Washington Monument down past the World War Two Memorial for the fireworks. The city promised a forty-five minute extravaganza, fifteen minutes longer than previous years. Somewhere between 4:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m. every square foot of sitting space would then be covered with blankets, butts and chairs as people vied for best seating.

Of course, the rooftops of surrounding buildings filled up too. Private parties and rented roof space from L’Enfant Plaza, Farragut Metro Station, and Navy Memorial/Archives traditionally packed tight with people as well as many Tonians sought to profit from the celebration. The White House, sitting slightly beyond the Washington Monument, offered an excellent view for the President and his staff to join the Chinese Delegation on one of the balconies.

Mitchell stared at the schedule and the subway map. He then pushed and twisted against the firm bottom of the backpack and felt it give under his fingers. With the false bottom removed, the ten com-units became accessible, each no larger than a double hand span. With black inked numbers on top of their silver casing, each com-unit’s email system contained identical information from the old databases of Bio Lab-4, with the exception of the one prewritten message they needed to send out.

The trick, he thought, is simply blend in with the crowds and trigger off each email at the right hour. He had timed the longest email and knew it would take approximately four and a half minutes to be sent to all recipients. Four minutes was a long time to give tracer programs so he needed to keep changing position throughout the day. The other danger was the Park Police doing bag checks at gates and security inside the museum. Mitchell planned to piggyback off their wireless frequencies. He removed the first machine before reattaching the false bottom and adding back the food and water items.

He stood, stretching to pop limbs back into place before shouldering the bag. His watch glowed 6:30, time enough to ride the rails and check the mechanisms just once more. He breathed deeply the dewy wet smells, smiled and left the bridge area in search of breakfast.

In the news today, the Chinese visitors took the day off from the Peace Talks to enjoy the Independence Day celebrations. Escorted by members of the Secret Service, and government representatives, the delegates plan to visit the National Archives, tour the Library of Congress and then dine with the President and First Lady this evening, followed by a viewing of the fireworks show from a White House Balcony.

On a related story: news from behind closed doors hint that the Peace Talks are far from concluding. Critical issues include intellectual property laws and the creation of “space boundaries zones” proposed by the Chinese government. When asked about the US position, one delegate replied, “They are tense but ongoing. There is no clear resolution in sight.

Yesterday’s protestors at the Chinese embassy turned violent as some threw rocks and police had to break up…

Brian turned off the television’s volume but left the pictures of the protesters pushing against fences flashing across the flat desktop screen. He sighed and slumped back in his chair. “Ever feel like you’re that frozen moment just before the shit hits the fan? You know it’s going to hit. You can practically hear the splatter coming and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

“
Every time the captain calls me in for a special favor.” Dorado closed the file in front of him. “Any more word from the boundary fences?”

“
Nah, crowds are still small and everybody’s happy. The festival doesn’t open until nine. Bet the Park Police guys are going to have an interesting collection of knives, pens, sprays and pocket items when the day is through.” Brian leaned back, putting his hands behind his head.

“
You'd think people would listen to the warnings.” Dorado growled. “We’ve only put them on the airwaves, Internet, news feed, and in the newspaper. You’d have to be dead to not know to leave your shit at home.” He picked up the next folder, marked “Incoming Transmissions.”

“
We’ll start the dog patrols at ten but most of them lack training in bomb detection. Most of the hounds do drug work. Mayweather says that they keep getting distracted by greenies sneaking in some pot.”

Dorado nodded without looking up.

“
It'll probably be too crowded for the dogs by three.”

Dorado nodded again.

“
Yo, chief, what’s bothering you? We’ve done all the threat assessment we can. We should be down walking the crowds.”

“
Maybe later,” Dorado passed over the email printout. “We’ve received twelve threats today so far and it’s what, 8:30. Only this one made through the threat assessment program as being 85% real. We have to take seriously anything above 75% and assume the damn terrorist can’t spell.”

McAfee read the note aloud, “
When the crowds are at their peak at the Fourth of July National Celebration, I will detonate a biological weapon that will spray the nearby people with a deadly pathogen. Once people are infected, millions will die before you can control this virus. I do this in vengeance for my wife, my daughter and all those that died at Bio Lab-4. This horrible act proves that the American government and military has illegally developed and stored biological weapons of mass destruction for the last twenty years. They plan to use them as an option for war. I have only a few samples of the massive amounts of pathogens available to the military. The many other samples are in four cryo-units. The military has hidden them and they must be found and destroyed. These are not safe in anyone’s hands. The world must know of the existence of these terrible weapons and their danger. The military killed all of us who worked on the project, all of us who developed these weapons, may God have mercy on our souls. The Sole Survivor of Bio Lab-4, Dawson, North Dakota.”

“
Olson says it has all the right aspects to be taken seriously: a specific target, a motive, a weapon and the fact it's getting wired to every damn media outlet. Implies the guy wants a big bang and the fame.”

“
Yeah but don’t terrorists tend to keep quiet until after the show's over?’

“
Groups do; a loner doesn’t necessarily if he wants to create fear. He wants the attention. Yet psychologically this guy writes like he's the hero. He performs a little badness to stop a bigger evil. That implies he’s not playing with a full deck.”

“
Think it’s someone trying a little death by cop? A wirehead popping out big time maybe?”

“
I don’t know but we've seen too many damn biological incidents lately. Have you seen this?” Dorado tossed a file over which spilled out pictures of a burned house.

McAfee thumbed through the pictures slowly and then scanned the report. “Yeah, I heard about it from Charro. Did they find bodies?”

“
No, although the fire was definitely arson. The report came in late yesterday afternoon. The fire pretty much destroyed the house. When the investigators started in, all hell broke loose when they found some glassware and the remains of an incubator. They also found maps and schedules of today’s events. The owner of the house gave us copies of the renter’s ID. The ID turned out to be fake but the name listed was James Mitchell.”

“
Holy shit, Olsen’s ghost.”

“
Yeah,” Dorado rubbed the side of his jaw. “Problem is, Mitchell burnt the place to cover his tracks yesterday. We got a picture of what may be his family that we can use to track him down. We got fingerprints but Sherrie’s found no match so far except to the APB the military put out.”

“
What about military files?”

“
We’ve asked the Army to run the pictures of the women. If they got a hit, they haven’t told us.”

“
The threat doesn’t use a name. You think the threat is connected to Mitchell?”

“
I think when a person destroys their base of operation; they’re preparing to make their move. Whether the threat is related or not, we got every indication of a potential bad guy out there. The lone wolf is the worst scenario and now we’ve got one. We’ve contacted LaCroix too and faxed everything over to him. FBI agrees it is a credible threat but they are as stumped as we are. They can’t help with any kind of manhunt because their people are all wrapped up monitoring museum exhibits so the damn Chinese delegates can play tourists.”

“
So we’ve got fingerprints and a picture of a guy who by all forms of ID does not exist. So far, the ladies in the photograph don’t exist either. Let’s put all three people’s pictures and notice on the patrol’s com-units. Print up some posters on Mitchell himself and circulate them at all the Museums' security posts.” McAfee said.

“
Yeah, I’m thinking the same. Work up a poster. Put it on the legal hypernet system with a priority red status. Take the printouts down to the checkpoints. Taylor’s on the Smithsonian Mall and Cardell is working the Monument area. Charro’s working the Capitol area. Have the pictures at every checkpoint and give the crowd control officers notice too. Chances are, he’ll be down there sometime today.

McAfee’s feet thumped when they hit the floor, “Okay, I'll make up the posters now.” He turned to his computer, activating the screen.

“
Brian.”

McAfee turned to face him.

“
When you go to the checkpoints, tell folks to consider the guy potentially armed and dangerous. He’s only to be approached with extreme caution. I don’t want any dead heroes at the end of the day.”

McAfee nodded solemnly, “Will do, chief.”

The nine o’clock message faded off the screen as the last address, a biographer’s email address blinked off the screen. The message ran long and therefore was more risky to send. Mitchell didn't worry. He closed the com unit with a soft snap. They knew all about him by now, but it didn’t matter. He felt like the walking dead, existing as only a shadow on society. The police, the Army, they’d all searched to no avail. He sipped the cooling coffee while watching the other customers around the Internet café. The police might trace the message back but he’d be long gone. This particular machine, like the other nine, contained data artifacts from BL-4, progress reports, lab analysis and lists of product, the few pieces of evidence he’d amassed in those last days before they burned the place to the ground. When the machine was found abandoned, the new owner might break the password—nine com-units acting like nine seeds of truth that he had strewn all over the Mall area.

He stood, cleaning his table of trash and then quietly slipped out of the crowded shop and out the front door. The day shone bright and breezy, the dew having burned off earlier. Sunlight glinted off the water falling down the walls of the Navy Memorial outside the Navy/Archive station. Children played on the metal sailor statue and the seating area in the large plaza as the sound of popping flags filled the air.

Olsen swung open the glass door without knocking as McAfee stood by it, ready to leave. “Another message came in at 9:00. It’s unsigned but definitely from the same guy.”

“
What do you have?” Dorado demanded, glancing down at his watch with a frown.

She set the small stack of papers in front of him. “It took time to print out and it’s just a long list of names. The threat assess program won't work on this because it has no actual analyzable content.”

“
How do you know it is the same guy?”

“
It's also signed Bio Lab-4.”

Dorado pulled the papers forward. McAfee moved round the desk and read over his shoulder. The first line was larger and bold. It read, “Members and Relatives of Members of Army Base Bio-Lab 4, then a column of names that ran for pages. Military rankings and titles filled the middle column before each name. The first line read, “Daryl Stegan, Colonel and commander of BL-4.” Dorado scanned through the pages. The list included words such as veterinarian, viral expert, microbiologist, and medical doctor. Yet he saw other labels of secretary, store clerk and administration. He noted with a sickening feeling that some of the names only had the label
“spouse”
or
“child”
next to the name.