Independence Day Plague (36 page)

The angry crowd was typical these days, Mitchell thought. Americans hated each other and hated their leaders. The world the lab workers left behind was fractured and destructive. They watched the violence and the protests from a distance when they entered the BL-4 seventeen years ago. Perhaps being isolated was a bad thing he mused. When the world changed, we failed to change with it.

The glimpse of movement in brown caught his attention. Park police began moving through the crowds, hands on their ears, listening intently or looking at their com-units. Mitchell knew they tracked the com-unit while the message played, but this was the final critical evidence that had to get out. Moving out of the Wi-Fi zone into another might disrupt the sending. The reporters would investigate, particularly after the noon demonstration. The general died under unusual circumstances. When the media investigated it, the truth about them would come out.

“
Wait just a little longer, Caroline.” He whispered as he began threading his way through the crowd, com-unit still partially open in his hand. The three officers moved too, pincher style, removing hats off the tourists and checking only white men. They took a few aside and fingerprinted them. He looked nervously around. The way west and north looked more open as the anti-Chinese crowds thinned out.

The com-unit finished its last transmission. As before, the machine buzzed and vibrated in his hand. He quickly silenced it and tapped the earpiece. “Yes.”

“
Are you responsible for the six shrapnel bombs we found outside of the Museums?”

Approaching the edge of the group, Mitchell stopped suddenly. The people moving around him shot him irritated glances. “No.” he replied.

The cop’s cool voice continued down the line, “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Not really your style. You want to kill more than just a few dozen.”

“
Then why mention it to me?”

“
To make a point to you. You see, I know you want to make a statement. We’ve started investigating some of your claims and there’s some evidence you’re for real. However, on a day like today, you’re just another broken chip in the machine. No one will listen to you. Lots of other groups want to make their statement today too. If you want to stop these guys, then let me bring you in. We’ll keep you safe. I’ve even got an Army colonel here who needs to know what the hell’s going on. He's investigating Forester's records and noted some problems. He seems like a good guy and he’s itching to talk to you. You tell us all the facts and we’ll investigate it. If what you say’s true, we’ll find the vials and put an end to this.”

Mitchell smiled slightly and began walking again. “We’ve had this conversation already, Lt. Dorado. I’m not a fool. And you’re wrong; I don’t want to kill hundreds. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“
Then tell us where the next bomb is. We’ll disarm it.”

Mitchell sighed and continued. His voice turned soft. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m a graduate of University of Virginia. Did my Ph.D. work at Johns Hopkins. It was in virology with an emphasis on emerging diseases. Search for me and I won’t exist. My wife, Caroline Mitchell was a brilliant vet. Under her maiden name of Sealy, she earned a Masters degree in animal science with a focus on primates. She studied the ability of diseases to jump from animal to man. The lab consisted of about a hundred and fifty of us, some of the best minds in medicine at that one lab alone. We’re gone now along with our families. Don’t you get it? We’re all dead and erased.”

“
Killing others won’t bring them back.”

“
I know.” He said quietly. “But when you or the federal people begin checking into the deaths of those that’ll die tonight, they’ll check these recordings. The world will demand an investigation and nothing will be swept away. Everyone’ll know our government’s dirty little secret.”

He heard Dorado forming a reply as he hit the exit toggle. He moved towards 17
^th
Street against the crowds. At the corner of 1
^st
and 17
^th
, he stood surrounded by the crowds coming out of the Farragut Metro station. The com-unit screen blank, now message finished. He bent and pushed it into the top of the overflowing garbage can. As he stood, he noticed a Metro police watching him and moving forward. Mitchell nodded, pulled his cap further down over his eyes, and crossed 1
^st
street heading east with a large group of noisy, boisterous teenagers, each wearing a
“Thank Jesus for the Day”
shirt. They turned towards Constitution Gardens but he kept moving along 1
^st
street. He noted the fewer police presence here with the crowds lowered down to a more manageable level.

The event was still hours away but he resisted the temptation to ride the trains, checking on the remaining systems. Ten stations surrounded at varying distances the area from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial. Only four suited his purpose and one, Navy Memorial/Archives had worked beautifully. However, now stations probably crawled with police. No, he thought. It was time to stay on the edge. He'd walk the streets outside of the festival area, move through the stores and cafes until time came to reappear again.

By nine, darkness crept across the sky yet ever held at bay by the city glow of streetlights, cars, and path lights. The collective humanity on the Mall area ceased to move like a writhing animal and settled down into a blanket of people across the grounds. Walking near the monument became a constant motion of weaving and overstepping blankets, baskets, and legs. Taylor stood on the path near the top of Washington Monument Hill off side of the speakers that blared out twenty-year old rock and country music. Taylor looked over the sweep of humanity that flowed without break down the hill and out of sight along the tree lined horizon. Dorado easily spotted him outlined in the monument lights, being taller and bulkier than most of the folks that flowed around him. Dorado waved as he crossed the last picnic blanket obstacle.

Together they moved behind the obelisk, using it as a block against the speaker noise. The noise from the crowd was loud but not uncomfortable. Then men bent heads together in order to hear each other without using their radio mikes.

“
Any more news?”

Taylor smiled white, perfect teeth against dark skin. “No. We had that one incident of the two gangs fighting around six. Arrested twenty then. Later we hauled off seven more punks showing gang signs. When we searched them, we came up with knives and a plastic manufactured snub-nose up one guy’s sleeves.”

Dorado nodded, “Good.”

“
Any more threats from the subway perp?”

“
We got the last message at seven.”

“
Yeah, what was it?”

Dorado turned his head and looked straight into his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“
That’s it?”

“
Yeah,” Dorado rubbed his eyes with one hand. “We’ve worn out the dogs checking the subways, the tents, the museums and came up with nothing.” He frowned, watching people continue climbing up the hill from the street. “Shit, they’re still coming in.”

Taylor glanced behind him. “Yeah, the crowds are monstrous this year but I guess the organizers predicted that.”

Dorado studied the man for a moment. “Have you worked many of these festivals?”

Taylor grinned again, “If I don’t work 4
^th
of July, I usually bring the family out. I love the fireworks and it’s usually a peaceful party.”

“
The subway trains were still packed at seven even though the museums closed at six.”

The tall man nodded, “Yes, People come out for the fireworks. It’s supposed to be particularly grand this year.”

Dorado nodded. He thumbed his radiophone on again. “Gate one: anything to report?” He ran one by one through the list of ten gates, each reporting a negative. “Patch me back to headquarters… Sherrie, any more notes? Okay. No, there’s no sign of activity.”

Both men jumped when the first rocket rose in the air and exploded above him. Taylor grinned and Dorado shook his head, scanning the crowds. The faces looked peaceful, all eyes turned upward to the brilliant color display exploding over their heads. Ooohhs and aahs rang out as a collective sigh and the speakers around the monument blared out a deafening musical tribute.

Taylor and Dorado moved down the thinly cleared walking path to the opposite hill towards 14
^th
Street weaving around the people who stood watching.

Once away from the speakers, Dorado spoke again. “I don’t get it. That bastard had us hopping all day and then nothing happened. Something's wrong here.”

“
Maybe the second mechanism failed.”

Dorado nodded, “Yeah that’s possible but we can't assume anyone's safe until we find it. We found three mechanisms under chairs and in signs at the Metro Center but they only contained water too."

“
The bastard’s playing with us for the attention. His broadcasts are all over the news.” Taylor replied. “I’ve gotten three calls since 1:00 from my wife asking about it.”

Dorado nodded. “We tried to have the festival shut down and evacuated. The control board said there wasn’t enough evidence to support evacuation.

“
The bombs at Navy/Archives?”

Dorado grimaced. “Said it proved the guy wasn’t serious. Besides, they’re worried about how it looks to our Chinese delegates. We’ve got to pull off a perfect 4
^th
despite all the protestors.”

“
Politics.”

“
Yep fucking politics. Can’t make a move without the stink of politics.” Dorado rubbed his face. “It has been too long a day.”

They watched the multicolored starbursts and streamers fill the sky above. The collective sighs and aahs almost drowned out the booming of the fire cannons.

“
Going to be a long night still. The roads are going to be packed when everyone tries to leave.” Taylor turned back to Dorado.

Dorado froze. He scanned across the vast people-carpeted field ahead of him and then turned around and looked at the sea of humanity that flowed around the monument and down the valley past the WWII memorial. The rockets screamed and exploded overhead. He pictured them all rising as a wave of bodies in the dark. He murmured “the crowds.” The color drained from his face. “That’s it,” he said. “The bastard never said it would be before the fireworks show. He only said when the crowds are at their highest. Son of a bitch!”

Taylor eyes went wide as he scanned the crowd again, but Dorado already put his earpiece back in. “Computer Control, Emergency patch through to operator Sherrie Olsen.”

After a moment, Olsen’s voice came on the line. “Information Control.”

“
Sherrie, the bombs are scheduled to go off after the fireworks." He turned, mike still on to the dark man beside him. "Taylor, how much time do we have left.”

“
Show’s been going on for about twenty-five minutes. Twenty minutes left.”

Dorado nodded. He tapped the big man and together they moved towards 14
^th
Street. “Sherrie, He’s hit Navy/Archives and Metro. What is the next biggest station on the list in this area?”

“
Metro and Gallery Place both service three train lines. L’Enfant services four train lines over two levels.”

“
It’s L’Enfant. Call for a Code Red, all officers on L’Enfant. Shut the damn trains down!”

“
Roger.”

Even along 14
^th
, the crowds sat packed, all faced upward watching the show. The men’s dash slowed to a crawl as they forced their way through. As they reached the edge of Independence Avenue, the explosions overhead tripled and the sky became fiery with light robbing the men of their night vision.

“
The finale!” shouted Taylor, pointing to the sky.

“
Com Control. This order is for all officers." Dorado yelled into his mike. “Code Red for all officers in the vicinity of Independence Avenue, Georgia Avenue heading towards L’Enfant Plaza. Secure a perimeter and stop anyone from entering the L’Enfant Plaza Metro station.”

Dorado redoubled his efforts to push through. As the show ended, the crowds rose and shifted, blocking paths and filling the streets. Although, everyone moved now, Dorado and Taylor’s progress slowed even more. The two men took to shouting and shoving in order weave through the tourists.

As they reached the station twenty minutes later, they saw one lone officer attempting to stop people but the huge wave of people split and flowed around him. The entrance doors and stairs downward were already packed with people. Dorado turned towards Taylor and the three other uniformed officers that trotted up. “Get these people off the stairs and stop anyone else. Use force if you have to. Tell Charro to get to the other entrance with men and guard it. When you can spare them, send down four more men to help clear people out.”

Taylor immediately sprung into action. “Okay folks off the stairway. We have a situation and we need you to move on to another station.” A few people turned and grumbled moving back upwards. Taylor’s voice amplified again, drill-sergeant style, “This is the DC Police. I need this stairway cleared now!”

Dorado flattened himself against the railing and forced his way downward throwing elbow jabs and body bumps. Once towards the bottom of the stairs, more people lingered. He flashed a badge and barked orders and they too reluctantly moved up the stairs. The first landing of ticket area of the station was a sea of humanity, pressed tightly and unmoving. He shouted again but the sound dampened out quickly as those closest to him turned to stare.