Michael Palmer - A Heartbeat Away

But at the same time, he had to trust someone.

Kennedy had his brother Robert, members of the National Security Council, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Jim Allaire had the people in this room: the president’s physician, an architect, the head of the Capitol Police force, and Gary Salitas, who, along with the president, was the only one who knew the whole truth. Some of Allaire’s newly formed inner circle still looked stunned at his order for an instant kill. If they possessed full knowledge of the peril presented by the rogue virus, and they were about to, Allaire had the utmost confidence that each of them would take exactly the same course.

That logic, however, offered only cold comfort.

“Hank, I’m giving the Capitol Police full operational authority over our outer perimeter. This place has got to be sealed and sealed tightly. The virus we’re dealing with is highly contagious and infectious. There’s no telling what the consequences would be if it got loose.”

Tomlinson nodded, as did Jordan Lamar.

“With all due respect, Mr. President,” Tomlinson said, “you haven’t given us much information on what’s really happening here. I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect and serve our country, but sir, please, we can’t fight what we don’t understand.”

“Yes, of course, Hank.” Allaire again paused to solidify his composure. “What I am about to share with you goes beyond any security clearance for top-secret information. I’m trusting you to keep this confidential. To do otherwise could result in a panic with the potential for an incalculable loss of life. Can I trust you on this? Do I have each of your words?”

The group exchanged looks in a silent poll.

“You have our word, sir,” Tomlinson said.

Allaire nodded. For the first time since the previous group was assigned tasks and sent from the Hard Room, the president directly addressed his personal physician, Dr. Bethany Townsend.

“Dr. Townsend, do you recall the Kalvesta files?”

Bethany Townsend, petite, with a pretty smile and weathered face, creased her brow in thought.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “That goes back almost two years. You asked me to review the pathologist’s report. It was a family of five if I recall. No, six. A husband, wife, and their four children, all of whom expired at some point in their sleep. Carbon monoxide had been quickly ruled out as a possible cause.”

“Correct. They lived in a house that we supplied for them in Kalvesta, Kansas. The husband, Army Lieutenant Colonel Jeremy Jackson, worked at a top-secret Level Four biocontainment facility in Kalvesta. None of the Joint Chiefs of Staff out there is aware of the existence of such a facility. Gary?”

The defense secretary took up the narrative.

“There was limited and tightly controlled operational knowledge of our efforts in Kalvesta. Lieutenant Colonel Jackson’s wife believed her husband held a position with the Kansas Department of Wildlife and Parks. In reality, he was part of a team developing a new biological agent for the United States government. Because of the military implications of our work, I was the only Cabinet member fully informed of Kalvesta.”

“Go on, Gary.”

“If word of this research got out prematurely, we would have had a public relations nightmare on our hands. The biological agent we were developing had that much implication for our national security.”

“And just what agent was that?” Townsend asked, her expression suggesting she had just come upon the answer to her own question.

“WRX3883,” the president replied.

Dr. Bethany Townsend’s expression was equal parts disbelief and fear.

“Are you implying that what killed the Jackson family is the same biological agent that we’ve all been exposed to?”

“Unfortunately, that is exactly what I’m saying,” Allaire replied. “Both you and the pathologist failed to pinpoint the cause of death because we intentionally kept you unaware of Project Veritas. But we did learn a great deal from your findings about how WRX3883 attacks the body.”

“Excuse me, sir, but Veritas?” Townsend asked.

“Veritas for truth. Even Vice President Tilden did not know about it, although I was going to tell him at the time I decided to pull the plug on the project. But by then, after funding was stopped and the whole project was shutting down, there seemed no need to tell anyone.”

“A little too late for the Jackson family,” Townsend said.

Allaire bowed his head. Salitas, sensing the president needed time to gather his thoughts, spoke up.

“The people at Veritas conducted a close inspection of Jackson’s biocontainment suit and found a tiny opening by the wrist, probably from bumping against a syringe or scalpel,” Salitas said. “At the time, Dr. Chen’s team was working with a new strain of the virus, trying to increase its potency and effectiveness. That pinhole-sized leak in Jackson’s suit turned him into a carrier. He went home feeling fine and spent the night with his family. He infected all of them without his knowing he was a walking hot zone.”

“Jesus,” Hank Tomlinson murmured.

“The Veritas team immediately destroyed the viral line and resumed work on an earlier strain. They augmented it and controlled how fast it acted when administered. But they never perfected it. Then the president shut down the program.”

“What happened to the Jacksons?” Tomlinson asked.

Allaire looked at Salitas through reddening eyes. The defense secretary walked to the water cooler and returned with water for both of them. Allaire drank his cup dry in a single swallow, then was able to continue.

“They were tightly quarantined, and treated as best our doctor knew how with massive doses of IV antiviral drugs. But nothing worked. They died in just a few days.”

“My God. And that virus is what we have been exposed to?”

“That or a variant, yes. We were all devastated by what happened to the Jackson family, but we had to weigh that tragedy against the possibility of ending the war on terror.”

“Ending the war on terror? Mr. President, just what does this virus do?” the police chief asked.

“The target organs of the germ are a group of structures in the midbrain including the hypothalamus, the anterior cingulate cortex, the amygdala, and the limbic system. These structures in the gray matter of the brain influence many functions, but taken as a whole they control the will—the ability to make voluntary decisions, the uniquely human ability to lie. When the microbe was first brought to my attention by Dr. Chen, a professor at Columbia, her animal studies had shown that cats infected with the virus would swim without resisting. Hard-core carnivores could be trained to eat a mix of vegetables and vitamins. Mortal enemies could quickly be taught to live in the same cage.”

“So? Since when did we get into the development of biological weapons?”

“Since terrorists flew airplanes into the World Trade Center buildings,” Gary Salitas said, returning to the table. “That’s when. And I wouldn’t call WRX a weapon. This country is pockmarked with cells of enemy combatants who don’t feel much like sharing their plans with us.”

“And you’re suggesting this virus will make them?”

“That was the idea,” Allaire said. “With the liberal press holding a constant magnifier on our techniques of interrogation, we have a very limited toolkit when it comes to extracting information from these … individuals. We were developing and testing the virus in hopes of making them share what they knew without resorting to more stringent measures, or having to move ahead based on their version of the truth. And for a time it looked as if Veritas was going to be a success.”