Rick Mofina - The Panic Zone

“What’s the purpose of your visit?”

“My daughter will be joining us in New York for a visit to see the city, then taking Will home with her. He stayed with me for a bit while she dealt with a career change.”

“And where does your daughter live?”

“Wyoming.”

“All right, thank you.”

After she cleared Immigration, the inspector’s shift ended. He closed his station and directed other passengers to the next desk. Sutsoff went to baggage claim, then lined up for U.S. Customs, handing her information to the female officer who yawned as she processed her entry.

In the half minute after Sutsoff had cleared Customs, the officer’s computer beeped with an alert, but she’d already turned from her desk to allow a colleague to take her place for a break.

The relief officer’s eyebrows rose when she read the details of the alert, but she had no inkling that a wanted fugitive had just cleared her very post.

Struggling with the stroller and her luggage, Sutsoff made it to the arrivals area, where she’d spotted a man wearing a black chauffeur’s cap, a sport coat, white shirt, black tie, black pants and holding up a sign reading M. Conrad NYC.

“Over here,” Sutsoff said. “Thank you. Do you have the car seat I reserved?”

“Yes, we’re all set, ma’am. Let me get your things.”

The driver helped Sutsoff and Will settle into the luxurious Buick. After loading the luggage and stroller, he got behind the wheel and confirmed their destination.

“The Grand Hyatt in Manhattan?”

“Yes.”

Sutsoff had requested to be dropped off there, but she planned to walk three blocks to another hotel. As the gleaming black sedan glided along the freeway, she took another pill. The miles clicked by and the span of the magnificent George Washington Bridge ascended in the distance just as they passed a huge billboard announcing the Human World Conference.

Sutsoff felt her stomach lift as she gazed across the Hudson where Manhattan’s skyline awaited them.

She turned to the baby, content in his car seat, then she contemplated New York City, then her float pen.

This was the power.

Ahead was the glory.

Fort Detrick, Maryland

That night, the ramifications of Gretchen Sutsoff’s new creation dawned on Foster Winfield.

He turned to his colleagues Tolkman, Weeks and Kenyon, seated at the table in a small meeting room. They had worked nonstop, analyzing material transported by jet fighter from Sutsoff’s secret lab on Deus Island. The four scientists sat in silence, then Kenyon said what everyone was thinking.

“She’s insane.”

“This defies the science,” Tolkman said. “How did she do it?”

“Why did she do it?” Weeks asked.

“I’m responsible,” Winfield said. “I brought her in to Project Crucible.”

Major Powell entered the room carrying a briefing binder.

“They’re all set in Washington.” Powell positioned a telephone console and speakers at the center of the table, keyed in several numbers and linked them to an emergency teleconference call with a spectrum of security agencies working on the new threat.

“Who’ve we got there?” a voice asked.

“Major Powell in Fort Detrick. With me are the four agency scientists who’d worked on Project Crucible.”

“Thank you. Everyone, identify yourselves when you speak, please. We’ll get started with the chair of the meeting.”

“This is Lincoln Hunter, assistant to the National Intelligence director, the president’s advisor. Time is an issue here, let’s keep things simple and keep it moving. We’ll go to the FBI. We have a suspect-a former agency scientist, Sutsoff, developing an attack. Updates, please.”

“Robert Lancer, FBI. She’s a Bahamian national. We believe she’ll attempt to enter the U.S. We’ve alerted Customs and Border Protection.”

“And if she’s already here?”

“We’re going out with a public fugitive alert as soon as possible.”

“And the target city for the strike, Lancer?”

“We have information suggesting it’s New York. We suspect it could be the Human World Conference.”

“In Central Park?”

“Yes. We strongly urge consideration be given to canceling the event. We’re working with the NYPD, the Port Authority and New York State Police.”

“Are we even close to this suspect’s trail, Lancer?”

“We’re working 24/7, assessing information obtained from Sutsoff’s island lab, her residence, her staff and from the child-care center on Paradise Island. We believe a number of foreign families with children will be traveling to New York and could be involved in the operation. We’re working with police agencies around the world.”

“Anything else?”

“We’re analyzing new information on other potential players. A person of interest is Drake Stinson, a former employee with the agency, now based in Brazil with a law firm that has ties to the operation through illegal adoptions. Stinson may have knowledge of the bombing of the Cafe Amaldo in Rio de Janeiro. His last known whereabouts was Europe.”

“And the weapon? I understand Sutsoff’s stolen something from Project Crucible and will turn it on us, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Winfield cleared his throat. “Foster Winfield here. I was the chief scientist on Crucible.”

“I’ve been briefed,” Hunter said, “but need you to tell me in simple terms, Dr. Winfield, what we’ve got, so I can brief the director. I understand Sutsoff’s unleashed a new virus?”

“No, not exactly. It’s complicated.”

“Simplify it, please, Doctor.”

“She’s created a new super-lethal agent to attack DNA. She can manipulate it to work at a hyper rate to target any specific group, or combination of groups.”

“How?”

“We’ve just completed deeper analysis that shows evidence of molecular electronics and manipulation on a supramolecular nanoscale.”

“Which means?”

“She can control her new lethal agent using radio-frequency command via wireless technology, from a cell phone or computer.”

“But to do what, exactly? I still don’t understand. If I were carrying this super Pariah V1 agent, infected as it were, wouldn’t I be dead?”

“No, that’s part of the sophisticated, unbelievable aspect of her engineering. The agent acts less like a virus and more like a dormant remote-controlled bomb.”

“How?”

“I could carry it and remain in perfect health, then transmit it to you or a thousand people through contact. Those people could continue transmitting it to others and so on, that’s the virus-like aspect she’s developed. But the agent would remain dormant as it were. Nothing would happen to anyone until Sutsoff activates the agent using remote manipulation. And she could target people with specific DNA characteristics. It would be like creating armies of microscopic lethal time bombs, transmitting them to a large group and then commanding them to detonate in everyone in that group according to the targeted DNA characteristic. Or put another way, targeting everyone in the group who has a 212 area code, or everyone who has a 212 area code with a 555 prefix and so forth.”

“Or anyone at all?”

“Yes, she can establish whatever range she likes.”

“I’ve seen the photos from the cruise-ship victim and the two victims in Nassau. They’re gruesome. The potential here is apocalyptic.”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Hunter,” Lancer said. “While we do not have irrefutable evidence of a planned attack in New York, we strongly urge cancellation of the Human World event.”

“Agent Lancer, this administration does not govern by fear. You know as well as I that it will never allow potential threats to dictate its agenda. As you say, you do not yet have irrefutable evidence of a planned attack. You have not yet confirmed your suspect is in the country, or the city. There are many complications, many considerations,” Hunter said. “I need to know, what if Sutsoff succeeds in passing along this lethal agent but never activates it?”