D Carpenter - Infertile Grounds

“You’ve talked to Agent Pelletier?”

“Yes, we got a few minutes with him.”

“Did he say anything insightful?”

Carl’s normally nasally voice rose an octave. “While we were in his room with the doctors, Pell was babbling, in and out of consciousness. He blurted out bits and pieces of the story.”

“Bits and pieces of the story?” Arthur didn’t like the sound of this at all. Carl was obviously being evasive and in this business, evasive would lead to disaster because the truth always comes out. In this day and age, hiding the truth was damn near impossible. “Look, Carl, cut the bullshit. What exactly are you saying? Did the doctors hear anything?”

Carl swallowed hard. His eyes flicked away from the screen briefly and Arthur’s heart sank. This was about to go tits up. “Yes.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Arthur moaned as he pressed his hand to his forehead. “Spit it out.”

“When they heard the word virus, they wanted to start containment protocols. They were going to lock down the ward or even the hospital! I had to act fast or everything would have been exposed and we don’t even know if it’s real yet. Can you imagine that? Jesus, I had to contain the situation at all costs.”

“So how many people were in the room?”

“Excluding myself and an agent, two. Dr. Epstein, the Head of Critical Care and his intern.”

“And what did they hear?”

Carl recounted the conversation.

“And where are they now?”

“I assume they’re in the hospital.”

Arthur shook his head in disbelief. “You mean you just let them carry on with their day?”

“What was I supposed to do, Arthur? This guy is a senior staff member of a major medical institution. We detain him over something like this and we’ll have their lawyers all over us.”

“So what makes you think they’re going to keep their mouths shut?”

“I told them this is a national security matter. Any leaks could be considered treason. The Patriot Act is broad and sweeping, certainly nothing they want to get wrapped up in. I got the message across, loud and clear. They won’t talk.”

“And what if they do?”

“Then we bring them in immediately but they won’t.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, Carl.”

“I needed them to bring Pell around so we could properly debrief him but they weren’t budging, Arthur. Epstein is a tough bastard. We had to push him hard to get time with Pell. He almost threw us out. Duty to his patients and all of that righteous medical bullshit but I got him over the hump.”

“Okay, so we can’t undo it but I want those doctors to know that we’re serious. Have agents remind them, tail them, let them know we’re serious.”

“Already done,” Carl replied.

“So where does it stand now?”

“I’ve got a man stationed outside Pell’s door at the ready to speak to him if he comes around again.”

“Alright but, for the future, you should have called. I could have gotten to the director of the hospital through political channels and we could have achieved the same thing without having to involve anyone.”

“But Pell told them—”

“I don’t care about that. You should have called me.”

“I know, I know. There just wasn’t time. It’s not the way I wanted to do it but we needed to talk to Pell.”

“How many men do you have working on this?” Arthur asked.

“Right now, only three. I just sent one up to northern Maine to handle that end. I’m going to need to put more out there, but I wanted to talk it over with you first. We need to reprioritize and I’ll need bodies. Fast.”

“How do you know that this virus really exists?”

“I don’t. It’s a gut feeling, Arthur.”

“I don’t like gut feelings. I like facts.”

“You and me both but there’s just too many coincidences happening in a normally quiet state.”

“But where’s the proof of a connection? What ties them together?”

“Chris Foster.”

“Who is he?”

“The guy who saw the plane go down and who contacted the Bureau.”

“So maybe he’s up to something. Have you thought of that?”

“He’s just some guy. There’s no way he’s orchestrating all of this. What could he be up to?”

“How the fuck do I know? That’s your job. All I’m saying is that I’m not hearing anything that shows me this virus even exists,” Arthur said as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the SAC. It was a little interrogation trick he had learned years ago. Most people don’t like prolonged direct eye contact, particularly when there was nothing else happening. Getting people uncomfortable was always a good thing. He did it all the time, generally as a way to think something through. Why look at the ceiling or close your eyes – it was more effective to use the moment to unnerve your opponent while formulating your thoughts. “Okay, Carl. This is what I want you to do. We don’t want to put too many agents on this thing until we get more solid corroboration because the word would get out. If the press gets a hold of this…”

He didn’t have to finish that thought, they both knew what would happen if something like this leaked. He continued, “Put together a package of all the facts that you have. I’ll need to know the information sources, the databases, and every tool that you’ve used so far. We don’t have time to be duplicating effort here. If what you told me is true, we’re going to have to move fast on this one. When can you have the information for me?”

“In a few hours. I’ll have to bring in the agents that were doing the work.”

“Excellent. I’m going to send my Tiger Team up to Boston. They’ll be at your disposal but reporting back to me. They’ll be in your office in a couple hours. And, you need to put additional resources on this until we know if it’s real or not.”

“Thanks, Arthur. I will,” Carl said as he jotted something down. “When you say that they’ll be reporting back to you, what do you mean?”

He understood where Carl was going, and he couldn’t blame him. This could be a huge case, and Carl wanted to keep it under his control. Giving him the illusion of control would be okay for now. If things blew up, Carl would take the fall. Political astuteness was like a gift and Arthur was one of the best. “Don’t worry, Carl. They will be keeping me informed, but they’ll be under you.”

“Great. I could use the manpower.”

“Okay. Then I’ll expect to see that report by the end of the day today. We’ll talk after I analyze it.”

Chris was getting tired. He had been following Albert for almost ten hours. At first it had been exciting – tailing another vehicle, keeping out of sight but after doing it for most of a day, he found that it wasn’t exciting at all – it was tedious. He needed to stretch his legs, not to mention get some food. The only stop had been at a massive truck stop four hours earlier. The place was big enough that he had filled up on the other side of the station without Albert seeing him.

They had driven north from Malibu, past San Francisco, and now were in the northern part of the state. Albert drove at an irritatingly slow sixty-two miles an hour, and Chris found himself creeping up behind him frequently. He was certain that Albert was clueless about the tail as they drove into a small town, Fresh Water.

Albert pulled into a strip mall and Chris took the opportunity to stop at a gas station across the street. He filled his tank as he watched Albert fiddling with his phone. They must be getting close. His tank was almost full when Albert suddenly started to drive away.

Chris yanked the nozzle, spilling gas down the side of the rental car and ran to the small kiosk. A trashy looking girl and the cashier were arguing over a problem with her credit card. He leaned around her, flicked a couple twenties through the slot at the bottom of the window, and said, “Keep the change.”