here.”
“This is bullshit.”
“We’re setting up a task force, and I’m sure your department will be involved, but for now, we need to question Dr. Locke and Dr. Kenner privately. I have full cooperation from your chief of police if you’d like to check with him.”
Miles worked fast, Locke thought, if he had already convinced the FBI to take over the investigation.
The police detective grumbled and walked over to his partner. He jerked his thumb at the FBI agents. After a few more choice words from his partner, they nodded at Dilara, and she came over to Locke, who introduced her to the agents.
“We know about your involvement in the Scotia One incidents,” Perez said. “Although that’s out of US jurisdiction, we’ve been asked by the Canadian government to lend any assistance we can in identifying the assailant. We’ve also been briefed by Miles Benson about your situation, Dr. Kenner. He was persuasive in convincing my superiors that there is some kind of link between these events. Dr. Locke, did you receive any verbal threats before the attack downtown?”
“I think whoever was behind this made their intentions known when they crashed the helicopter and tried to blow up a billion-dollar oil rig.”
“We don’t know the helicopter crash was anything other than a mechanical failure.”
“A couple of days ago, I thought the same thing,” Locke said and looked at Dilara. “Now I’m going under the assumption that it was crashed on purpose.”
“Have you ever seen either of the men before?”
“No,” Locke said. Dilara shook her head in agreement. “All I know is that they’re completely fanatical. One of them committed suicide rather than let himself be caught, just like the intruder on Scotia One.”
“Do you know why they would want to kill you?”
“I have to assume it’s because of the incident with Sam Watson at LAX that Dr. Kenner witnessed and the downing of Rex Hayden’s plane.”
“How?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“These assailants were definitely targeting you. The other witnesses on the monorail and inside the Space Needle said they didn’t care about anyone but you and Dr. Kenner.”
Perez took a digital camera from his pocket and showed the screen to Locke. He cycled between two shots. Each showed a close up of the perpetrators’ faces. One was of the man with the miniature Space Needle still embedded in his eye, but with the skull cap removed. The second was the man who fell to his death from the elevator. The back of his head was misshapen from the impact with the ground. His mustache was gone, and his hair was now short-cropped brown instead the shaggy black it had been. Obviously a disguise.
“Now do you recognize them?” Perez asked.
Locke hadn’t seen either man before. He shook his head.
“This guy,” Perez said, pointing at the second man, “had pictures of both you and Dr. Kenner in his pocket.”
“Did they have any ID?”
“No. They were pros. We’re checking their fingerprints now. But using the fingerprints Miles Benson said you obtained on Scotia One, we do have an ID on the oil rig bomber. He was a former US Army Ranger. Dishonorably discharged. Went into private contracting, but we can’t identify his employer. All of the C-4 was destroyed, so we can’t trace it. For now, that trail is a dead end.”
“Maybe you’ll get luckier with these guys.”
“I’m not counting on it. I’m sure they’ve covered their tracks. What I’m curious about is why they would try to take you out in broad daylight in front of dozens of witnesses. That’s pretty risky.”
“Because they only have five days left,” Dilara said. “They think we know something that would harm their plans.”
“Do you?”
“Not really,” Locke said. “It’s still a big puzzle to us. But we think the Genesis Dawn is the next target.”
“Why?”
“Because of something Sam Watson told Dilara.”
Agent Harris spoke for the first time. “We’ll have the autopsy rechecked, but preliminary reports showed no trace of poison in Watson’s system. The coroner concluded it was a heart attack.”
“That’s what they wanted it to look like. Sam worked in a pharmaceutical company. Maybe it was them. They might have access to untraceable poisons.”
“That sounds pretty farfetched to me,” Perez said. “Why would they attack you in broad daylight with guns but kill an old man with an untraceable poison?”
“They’re getting desperate,” Locke said. “They thought it could be contained if they killed Sam Watson and Dilara in seemingly natural or accidental ways.”
“What’s ‘it’? Who’s ‘they’?”
“It all has to be related to the bioweapon on Hayden’s plane,” Dilara said.
“Hold on,” Perez said. “We’re still not sure it was a bioweapon. It could be some natural phenomenon.”
“Oh come on, Agent Perez!” Locke said. “Did you read what happened to those people?”
“We’re working under the assumption that it was a terrorist attack, although no one has claimed responsibility, but we also don’t want to jump to conclusions and panic anyone. That investigation is still ongoing.”
“Yes,” Locke said, “and Dilara and I are returning to Phoenix tomorrow to help with it. A lot of the wreckage has already been trucked back to our TEC facility, and our technicians are sifting through it all. We’re hoping to find some kind of clue in it. We have to work fast, though. The Genesis Dawn sails Friday morning.”
“We can have security beefed up at the Genesis Dawn gala and sailing,” Agent Harris said, “but you’re not giving us much to go on.”
“What gala?” Locke asked.
“There’s a huge party for big wigs the night before the maiden voyage. Lots of big names will be there.”
That sounded like a tempting target to Locke, but he thought the real attack wouldn’t occur until the ship was at sea. It fit the MO of the airplane disaster better.
“We have to stop the sailing,” Locke said. “Or at least postpone it.”
“Impossible,” Perez said. “Unless I have a concrete threat to the ship, there’s nothing more we can do.”
“We have one more lead,” Locke said.
“Let’s hear it.”
“Coleman Engineering and Consulting. We have reason to believe they may be involved.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. John Coleman and his top engineers were killed in an accident. I’m guessing the answers might still be in his records.”
“What makes you think Coleman is involved?”
“Sam Watson said his name to me before he died,” Dilara said.
“Can you get us a search warrant?” Locke asked Perez.
“With what? The accusations of dead man? The judge would laugh me out of his office.”
“You don’t think this shooting spree is enough?” Locke asked.
“But how is it related? You’ll have to come up with a more tangible link than Sam Watson’s dying words before I can get into Coleman’s firm. I think our time will be more productive spent looking for the identity of the two dead assassins and seeing if they are linked to the man on Scotia One.”
“So we’re just forgetting about Coleman?” Dilara protested.
“Unless you have evidence to justify a warrant, yes,” Perez said, “I suggest Dr. Locke focus on Hayden’s airplane crash.”
“But…” Dilara began, but Locke held up his hand.
“We’ll head back down there tomorrow,” he said.
“While you’re in Seattle,” Perez said, “I want the police to provide protection for you.”
