and was met by an armed air police sergeant who drove him to the visitors' center. In the distance Smith saw the grandstands, packed with NASA employees listening to the president's address. He very much doubted that Klein would be anywhere near the center of attention.
The sergeant showed him into a small office well away from the main exhibits. The place was barren except for a government-issue desk and several chairs. Klein closed the state-of-the-art laptop he had been working on and came to Smith.
“Thank God you're alive, Jon.”
“Thank you, sir. Believe me, I share your sentiment.”
Klein never failed to surprise him. Just when Smith thought that the head of Covert-One had ice water in his veins, Klein would demonstrate genuine concern for the mobile cipher he had sent in harm's way.
“The president will be leaving in less than an hour, Jon,” Klein informed him. “Tell me what happened so that I can determine whether or not to brief him.”
When he noticed Smith glancing around the room, he added, “The Secret Service swept the room for bugs. You may speak freely.”
Smith detailed, minute by minute, what had happened from the moment he had spotted Danko at St. Mark's Square. He noted how Klein flinched when Smith described the shooting. When he mentioned Bioaparat, Klein was clearly shocked.
“Did Danko tell you anything before he died?” Klein demanded. “He didn't get the chance. But he was carrying this.” He handed Klein the page with Danko's handwriting.
Bioaparat cannot go from Stage One to Stage Two. It is not a matter of money, but of inadequate facilities. Still, rumors persist that Stage Two will be completed, though not here. A courier is to leave Bioaparat no later than 4/9 with the cargo.
Klein glanced at Smith. “Who's the courier? Is it a man or a woman? Who does he work for? This is maddeningly inconclusive! And what are Stages One and Two?”
“They generally refer to viruses, sir,” Smith replied, then added, “I'd also like to know what the courier is bringing out. And where he's headed.”
Klein went to the window, which had an excellent view of a fuel depot. “It doesn't make any sense. Why would Danko run if this was all he had?”
“Exactly the question I've been asking myself, sir. Consider this possibility: Danko comes across information about the courier while he's rotating through Bioaparat. He starts investigating ? and ends up digging deeper than he should have. He makes someone suspicious and has to make a run for it. But he doesn't have a chance ? or doesn't dare ? to put down anything else he might have learned. If Danko ever discovered the courier's identity, payload, or destination, that information died with him.”
“I can't believe that he died for nothing,” Klein said softly.
“I won't believe that,” Smith said vehemently. “I think that Danko was anxious to get to us because whatever's headed out of Russia is coming our way.”
“Are you saying that someone is bringing a Russian bioweapon into this country?” Klein demanded.
“Given the circumstances, I'd say it's a strong possibility. What else could have frightened Danko so badly?”
Klein pinched the bridge of his nose. “If that's the case ? or even the suspicion ? I have to alert the president. Steps need to be taken.” He paused. “The problem is, how do we protect ourselves when we don't know what to look for? Danko didn't leave us any clues.”
Something in Klein's words jogged Smith. “That might not be true, sir. May I?” He gestured at the Dell computer sitting on the desk.
Smith logged on to USAMRIID and wended his way through the numerous security checkpoints until he reached the library, the world's biggest, most comprehensive compendium on biowarfare. He entered Stage One and Stage Two and asked the computer to bring up the names of all the viruses that had two distinct development levels.
The machine offered him thirteen choices. Smith then instructed the computer to check those thirteen against viruses that Bioaparat was known to have developed, manufactured, and stockpiled.
“Could be Marburg or Ebola,” Klein said, looking over his shoulder. “Some of the most lethal bugs in the world.”
“Stage Two implies reconfiguration, gene splicing, or some other form of alternation,” Smith told him. “Marburg, Ebola, and others can't be 'developed' per se. They exist in nature ? and, of course, in the bioweapons labs. With them, it's more a case of designing effective battlefield delivery systems.”
Suddenly Smith gasped. “But this… this can be tampered with. We know that the Russians were playing with it for years, trying to alter it to produce a more virulent strain. They were supposed to have shut down those labs, but…”
Klein was listening, but his eyes were locked on the screen where black letters blinked like death's-heads against a white background: SMALLPOX.
Virus is derived from the Latin word for poison. Viruses are so minuscule that their existence was unknown until the late nineteenth century, when Dmitri Ivanovsky, a Russian microbiologist, stumbled across them while investigating an outbreak of disease in tobacco plants.
Smallpox belongs to the pox family of viruses. Its earliest recorded history dates back to China in 1122 B.C. Since then, it has changed the course of human history, decimating the populations of eighteenth-century Europe and the native peoples of the Americas.
Variola major attacks the respiratory system. After an incubation period of five to ten days, the disease brings on high fever, vomiting, headaches, and stiffness of the joints. After a week, a rash appears, localized at first, then spreading throughout the body and causing blisters. Scabs appear, fall away, and leave scars that serve as incubation beds for a fresh assault. Death can come within two to three weeks or, in the case of the red or the black pox, in a matter of days.
It wasn't until 1796 that a medical assault was mounted on the virus. A British doctor, Edward Jenner, discovered that milkmaids who had contracted a mild form of the pox virus from cows seemed immune to smallpox. Taking samples of a milkmaid's lesions, Jenner inoculated a young boy who subsequently survived the epidemic. Jenner named his discovery vaccinia ? vaccine.
The last known case of the disease was reported and treated in Somalia in 1977. By May 1980, the World Health Organization had declared smallpox vanquished. The Organization also ordered the cessation of immunization programs, since there was no tangible need to subject people to even the slightest risk associated with vaccination.
By the end of the 1980s, only two stockpiles of Variola major remained on earth: at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, and at the Ivanovsky Institute of Virology in Moscow. In the case of the latter, the virus was subsequently moved to Bioaparat, located near the town of Vladimir, 350 kilometers southeast of Moscow.
Under an international treaty signed by both the United States and Russia, the samples were to be preserved in highly secure laboratories subject to international inspection. None of the samples could be used for any kind of experiment without the World Health Organization monitors being present.
That, at least, was the theory.
“In theory, monitors were supposed to be present,” Smith said. He glanced at Klein. “You and I know better.”
Klein snorted. “The Russians gave the WHO bureaucrats some song and dance about updated facilities at Vladimir and the fools let them move the smallpox. What they never realized was that the Russians showed them only the parts of Bioaparat that they wanted them to see.”
This was true. Through defectors and on-site sources, the United States had, over the years, managed to piece together a solid composite of what was really taking place at the Bioaparat complex. The international inspectors had seen only the tip of the iceberg ? the variola storage facilities, which were subsequently approved. But there were other buildings, disguised as seed and fertilizer laboratories, that remained hidden from the world.
