The specialist did as instructed.
Daugherty fixed him with a gimlet eye. “How long have you known about the possibility of this transfer, Hideo?”
“It came out of the blue this morning. I mean, I just opened the letter.”
“And we put it in for you… what, almost two years ago?”
“Year and a half, at least. Right after I came back from leave over there. Look, Sergeant, if you need me to stick around awhile, I'll be?”
Daugherty shook her head. “Doesn't look like I could do that if I wanted to.” With her finger she stabbed a memo on her desk. “I got this E-mail from the Department of the Army about the same time you must've opened your letter. Looks like your replacement's already on her way. Coming from Intelligence Command over in Kosovo, no less. She must've been on a plane before the letter even got to the office.” Daugherty's expression was thoughtful.
“You mean she'll be here today?”
Daugherty glanced at the clock on her desk. “A couple of hours, to be exact.”
“Wow, that's fast.”
“Yes,” Daugherty agreed, “it sure is. They've even cut travel orders for you. You've got a day to clear out your desk and quarters. You're to be on a plane tomorrow morning.”
“A day?”
“Better get at it. And best of luck, Hideo. I've enjoyed working with you. I'll put a good report in your file.”
“Yessir, er, Sergeant. And thanks.”
Still a little stunned, Takeda left Sergeant Major Daugherty contemplating the memo. She was rolling a pencil between her hands and staring off into space as he enthusiastically dumped out his desk. He repressed a war whoop of victory. He was not only tired of being away from Miko, he was especially tired of living in the USAMRIID pressure cooker. He had been through plenty of emergencies here, but this new one had everyone worried. Even scared. He was glad to get the hell out.
Three hours later, Specialist Four Adele Schweik stood at attention in the same office in front of Sergeant Major Daugherty. She was a small brunette with almost black hair, a rigid carriage, and alert gray eyes. Her uniform was impeccable, with two rows of medal ribbons showing service overseas in many countries and campaigns. There was even a Bosnian ribbon.
“At ease, Specialist.”
Schweik stood at ease. “Thank you, Sergeant Major.”
Daugherty read her transfer papers and spoke without looking up. “Kind of fast, wasn't it?”
“I asked to be transferred to the D.C. area a few months ago. Personal reasons. My colonel told me an opening had suddenly come up at Detrick, and I jumped at it.”
Daugherty looked up at her. 'A little overqualified, aren't you? This is a backwater post. A small command not doing much and never going overseas.
“I only know it's Detrick. I don't know what your unit is.”
“Oh?” Daugherty raised a blond eyebrow. There was something too cool and composed about this Schweik. “Well, we're USAMRIID: U.S. Army Medical Research Institute for Infectious Diseases. Scientific research. All our officers are doctors, vets, or medical specialists. We even have civilians. No weapons, no training, no glory.”
Schweik smiled. “That sounds peaceful, Sergeant Major. A nice change after Kosovo. Besides, haven't I heard USAMRIID is on the cutting edge, working with pretty deadly Hot Zone diseases? Sounds like it could be exciting.”
The sergeant major cocked her head. “It is for the docs. But for us it's just office routine. We keep the place running. Over the weekend there was some kind of emergency. Don't ask any questions. It's none of your business. And if any journalist contacts you, refer them to public affairs. That's an order. Okay, there's your cubicle next to Quinn's. Introduce yourself. Get settled, and Quinn will bring you up to speed.”
Schweik came to attention. “Thank you, Sergeant Major.”
Daugherty rotated her pencil again, studying the door that had just closed behind the new woman. Then Daugherty sighed. She had not been completely truthful. Although there was plenty of routine, there were moments like this when all of a sudden the army didn't make a damn bit of sense. She shrugged. Well, she had seen stranger things than an abrupt shift in personnel that made both transferring parties happy. She buzzed Quinn, asked for a cup of coffee, and put out of her mind the latest lab crisis and the strange personnel transfer. She had work to do.
At 1732, hours, Sergeant Major Daugherty locked her cubicle door, preparing to leave the empty office. But the office was not empty.
The new woman, Schweik, said, “I'd like to stay and learn as much as I can, if that's all right, Sergeant Major.”
“Fine. I'll tell security. You have an office key? Good. Lock up when you're finished. You won't be alone. That new virus is driving the docs crazy. I expect some of them will be on campus all night. If this goes on much longer, they're going to start getting cantankerous. They don't like mysteries that kill people.”
“So I've heard.” The small brunette nodded and smiled. “See, plenty of action and excitement at Fort Detrick.”
Daugherty laughed. “I stand corrected,” she said, and went out.
At her desk in the silent office, Specialist Schweik read memos and made notes for another half hour until she was sure neither the sergeant major nor security was coming back to check on her. Then she opened the attache case she had brought inside during her first coffee break. When she had arrived at Andrews Air Force Base this morning, it had been waiting in the car assigned to her.
From the case she withdrew a schematic diagram of the phone installations in the USAMRIID building. The main box was in the basement, and it contained connections for all the internal extensions and private outside lines. She studied it long enough to memorize its position. Then she returned the diagram, closed the case, and stepped into the corridor, carrying it.
With innocent curiosity on her face, she looked carefully around.
The guard inside the front entrance was reading. Schweik needed to get past him. She inhaled, keeping herself calm, and glided silently along the rear corridor to the basement entrance.
She waited. No movement or noise from the guard. Although the building was considered high security, the protection was less to keep people out than to shield the public from the lethal toxins, viruses, bacteria, and other dangerous scientific materials that were studied at USAMRIID. Although the guard was well trained, he lacked the aggressive edge of a sentry defending a lab where top-secret war weapons were created.
Relieved that he remained engrossed in his book, she tried the heavy metal door. It was locked. She took a set of keys from the case. The third one opened the basement door. She padded soundlessly downstairs, where she wound in and out among giant machines that heated and cooled the building, supplied sterile air and negative pressure for the labs, operated the powerful exhaust system, supplied water and chemical solutions for the chemical showers, and handled all the other maintenance needs of the medical complex.
She was sweating by the time she located the main box. She set the attache case on the floor and withdrew from it a smaller case of tools, wires, color-coded connections, meters, switching units, listening devices, and miniature recorders.
It was evening, and the basement was quiet but for the occasional snap, gurgle, and hum of the pipes and shafts. Still, she listened to make sure no one else was around. Nervous energy sent chills across her skin. Warily she studied the gray walls. At last she opened the main box and went to work on the multitude of connections.
Two hours later, back in her office, she checked her telephone, attached a miniature speaker-earphone set, flipped a switch on the hidden control box in her desk drawer, and listened. “… Yeah, I'll be here at least two more hours, I'm afraid. Sorry, honey, can't be helped. This virus is a bear. The whole staff's on it. Okay, I'll try to get there before the kids go to bed.”
