Дэвид Балдаччи - Walk the Wire

“So what exactly was down there in the ground?” asked Jamison. “No one’s told us.”

“That’s because we don’t know for certain. But since I learned of your discovery, I have been in touch with some high-level contacts from the DoD and informed them of the situation here. With some prodding from my superiors, they, in turn, did some deep digging within certain old records.”

“With what result?” asked Jamison.

“It seems that decades ago certain elements within the Air Force community might not have followed the presidential directive to discontinue all work on such weapons and destroy the stockpiles that did exist. Work on one project may have continued. The results of that work may well have been what ended up in that bunker.”

“There’s no maybe about it,” said Decker. “It did.”

“Any idea what that project was?” asked Jamison.

“We can’t be sure until they get into that bunker and examine the contents. That will take some time. In addition to the concrete that was poured down that pipe, they will be using vapor seals, pressure chamber technology, and other protocols to ensure that what is in the pipe and bunker remains there until it can be permanently dealt with. The problem is that if an explosive was used in piercing the bunker, some of the contents may have escaped already into the surrounding earth. The response team understands that and is using every tool they have to contain it until a complete study is conducted and a full-scale remediation plan can be implemented.”

Jamison persisted, “Don’t you have some idea after talking to those people?”

“I have come to learn that back then the Air Force, as an alternative to the deployment of nuclear weapons, was very keenly working on developing ‘synthetic’ airborne weapons, including ricin, anthrax, sarin, a substance today known as compound 1080, and an inhalable form of the world’s most lethal poison, botulinum. If I had to guess, I would say that the medium used was some type of laboratory-crafted spore . I say that only because I was aware of a similar project being undertaken by the Soviets during the Cold War.”

“Wonderful how really smart people spend so much time trying to kill each other,” commented a clearly disgusted Jamison.

“Yes, well, anyway, it was intended that these weapons would be deployed from aircraft — making the Air Force the perfect medium to deploy them, of course. I have also learned that the intent back then was to devise these toxins in such a way that once released they would linger in the ground for centuries, in the same way that radiation from a nuclear explosion would. Years later, if you happened to walk along and disturb such toxins on the ground and then inhaled them, you could be dead within hours or even minutes without ever knowing what had killed you. And I was told that one of the other goals was to make some or all of these poisons, once inhaled, capable of being transmitted through the air from one living thing to another. In other words, they wanted to make a synthetic plague that was actually far deadlier than the original version.”

“That is absolutely horrible,” said Jamison.

“But effective, if mass death over a long period of time is your goal,” pointed out Blue Man. “It’s no wonder they eventually buried it in that bunker. They probably didn’t know how to destroy these weapons safely. You couldn’t burn them or blow them up without risk that some of the airborne contaminants would escape. And once they did, they could be there a long time waiting to kill the unsuspecting. And with prevailing wind patterns, storms, and unsuspecting, contaminated people moving here and there, it could have affected a far larger area than simply North Dakota. It would have been truly catastrophic and beyond this country’s capability to adequately respond.” He smiled at the pair. “But you two and your brother-in-law managed to stop it.”

“My brother-in-law deserves the credit there,” said Decker.

“Decker,” admonished Jamison, “if you hadn’t figured it out, Stan would have had no chance to stop it.”

“I think there’s enough credit to go around,” noted Blue Man. He looked expectantly at Decker. “Now, it’s one thing to stop such a plot. It’s quite another to catch those who did it.”

Decker said, “We’re talking deep pockets. The mercenaries they’ve used aren’t cheap, and neither was paying for the land and all the equipment to do what they almost succeeded in doing.”

“We’re making inquiries, but I’m afraid it will be a long and involved process and it may well be that no definitive answer comes from it. And even if we do determine who was responsible, our options may be limited in how to respond.”

“That’s bullshit,” said Jamison.

Blue Man smiled demurely. “And it’s also the nature of geo-politics. For better or worse, some of the players undoubtedly behind this are countries we need in other areas to keep the world relatively stable.”

“So they’ll get a pass?” said Jamison. “If there are no consequences, what will stop them from trying again?”

“I didn’t say there would be no consequences,” said Blue Man. “But there may be no public consequences.”

“So a cover-up?” exclaimed Jamison.

“And since I know you were a journalist, every molecule of your nature rises up in protest at the very thought of such a thing. And I can’t say that you’re wrong. I can only say that the matter is complicated and not everyone in power believes in transparency. Or if they do, it’s their version of it.”

Jamison shook her head in resignation but said nothing.

Decker said, “We still have the matter of finding out who killed Irene Cramer and Pamela Ames, and abducted Hal Parker. And who probably killed Ben Purdy and did murder his mother.”

Jamison added, “And who was also blackmailing Walt Southern. It has to be the same people behind the biochemical weapons scheme.”

“It could be that someone local was working with foreign elements to bring this plot about,” said Robie.

“I think that’s exactly what happened,” said Decker. “Now we just have to find out who the local is.”

Decker, Baker, and Jamison were having dinner at the OK Corral Saloon that evening.

“Don’t think I’ve been poked and prodded that much since I was in boot camp,” said Baker as he sipped on a bottle of beer.

“Well, it could have been a lot worse,” noted Jamison. “We could be in a morgue.”

Baker nodded. “So do they know what’s down there? Saw a big crew poring over the place until they put up these screens to block the sight lines.”

“Let’s just say it was some serious shit from the past that never should have been put down there in the first place,” said Jamison.

Baker shook his head. “Damn military playing God like always. I mean, when are they gonna learn?”

“Don’t hold your breath,” said Decker. “I suppose you heard about Hugh Dawson?”

Baker nodded, looking sad. “I tried to visit Caroline at the hospital, but they said she was still medicated and asleep. How’s she doing?”

“It’s going to take time,” said Jamison. “She’s been through a lot.”

“Shane lost his father, but it wasn’t the same situation,” noted Decker. “Although we’ve learned Hugh was no saint.”

“Considering Hugh Dawson killed McClellan, I think they both have it pretty bad,” Jamison countered.

“What the hell are you talking about?” exclaimed Baker.

Decker quickly explained what had happened.

Baker sipped his beer, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Guess it shows you money can’t buy happiness. I mean those two were rolling in it, and now they’re both dead and won’t enjoy a penny of it.”