malaria, Imran Sayed had returned to Yale as a visiting Professor of Epidemiology. Professor Sayed was now on contract to USAMRIID and to the World Health Organization, and the Secretary General of the United Nations valued Imran as a friend and a trusted advisor. Wassenberg buzzed for his J3.
‘Sir!’ Tall and gangly to the point of being awkward, Marine Captain Donald Crawshaw appeared inside the Colonel’s door in an instant and snapped to attention. Crawshaw wasn’t the sharpest spine on the porcupine but he’d worked out quickly enough that the very short ex-Marine Corps Colonel was a man of explosive action who detested being kept waiting. Captain Crawshaw aimed to please. His performance report from his last unit hadn’t been too complimentary and he had also missed out on the last round of promotions, but he figured that all was not lost. A strong recommendation from an ex-Marine like Colonel Wassenberg might help him to replace his two bar insignia for Captain with the coveted oak leaf of a Major.
‘We have a security problem on this base, Crawshaw. A security problem!’
‘Sir!’ The colour drained from Crawshaw’s face as he wondered whether or not he was responsible.
‘Come around here, son. You see this man – he’s a goddamn Muslim! This is a Christian country. A Christian country that is at war with these motherfucker Muslims and now I find that we’ve got a goddamn Muslim scientist in the middle of a top-secret base. I want a security review done on every one of these motherfucker scientists without delay. Without delay d’ya hear!’ Colonel Wassenberg slammed the folder shut and shoved it towards his J3.
‘Yes SIR! USAMRIID SIR!’ Captain Crawshaw rammed the folder under his left arm, snapped to attention again and saluted before marching back to his small desk just outside the Colonel’s door.
Walter Wassenberg breathed in deeply. His predecessor had not only been pushing for the destruction of the country’s stocks of smallpox, for chrissake, he’d allowed a Muslim on his staff. Another poodle-faking-motherfucker doctor who’d never seen a shot fired in anger, he thought resentfully. The Muslim would have to go and the stocks of smallpox would be destroyed over his dead body. For the third time in as many minutes he checked his watch. On his first day he’d timed the walk from his office to the conference room down the hall at precisely 59 seconds and his watch now showed 0858 hours, just over a minute before he would leave the office.
Colonel Wassenberg got up from behind his desk and stood in front of the full-length mirror he’d had installed behind the door of his office and adjusted a shirt fold above his belt. He also made an adjustment to the position of the large nameplate that took pride of place in the front centre of his desk, specially made in polished silky oak, with WALTER C. WASSENBERG III embossed in large gold letters, and COLONEL COMMANDING underneath. On the wall behind his desk he’d had two flags installed in a polished wood cabinet. The Stars and Stripes always had pride of place, but in a breach of protocol for a medical unit Colonel Wassenberg had insisted on installing the Marine Corps flag, as well as the Marine Corps seal on the wall above – a huge bald eagle atop the Western Hemisphere with a foul anchor behind it. In its beak the eagle carried a scroll with the Marine Corps motto – Semper Fidelis ‘Always Faithful’. Satisfied, Colonel Wassenberg ran his hands over his Marine Corps combat gear that he kept hanging on two wooden pegs inside the door, just in case he got the call. He made a final check of his watch and as the sweep hand passed the hour he strode purposefully through his J3’s office and down the corridor towards the conference room.
CHAPTER 19
P resident Harrison broke the silence. ‘So if you think CDC and USAMRIID might leak, where does that leave us?’ he asked.
‘There is another option, Mr President,’ Vice President Bolton said smoothly. ‘You will recall that we agreed that from time to time, Halliwell might have to work on Level 4 pathogens and the classified contract for Halliwell Pharmaceuticals included the construction of a full Biosafety Level 4 laboratory.’
Esposito’s jowls trembled alarmingly as he jerked his head up from his folder of notes. A surge of white-hot anger pulsed through his veins. He seethed, wondering why he hadn’t been told. It wasn’t the first time the arrogant and ambitious Vice President had kept him in the dark on classified projects. As Esposito brought his fury back under control he made a mental note to remind the President that his electoral advisor needed to be aware of absolutely everything that crossed the President’s desk – everything. There had been a great deal of resistance from the Vice President, but one of the reasons Esposito had insisted on being present at meetings of the war cabinet was to ensure that the Republican Party’s re-election strategy wasn’t threatened by foreign policy decisions. Bolton’s day would come. The Vice President’s chances of gaining the Oval Office lay somewhere below zilch and fuck all.
President Harrison nodded. The Vice President had informed him that the Halliwell laboratory was now protected by security guards, motion alarms, triple fencing and CCT cameras that were monitored 24 hours a day from Halliwell’s main operations centre.
‘That area is completely secure but we need to keep things small,’ Vice President Bolton said, a quiet insistence in his voice. ‘The scientists will have to be leaders in their field and we’ll have to disguise the funding, but I’m sure Richard Halliwell can be trusted to keep access to an absolute minimum. If there is a leak, any scientist on the project will know we won’t be looking very far.’
Dan Esposito’s piggy little eyes narrowed even further. He already had a separate long-range plan for Richard Halliwell. As the Vice President outlined the proposals for bioweapons research, another idea quickly took shape in his agile mind.
‘The funding will have to be black, Mr President,’ Esposito said calmly, looking at the Vice President, giving the impression he already knew about the Halliwell construction.
‘CIA?’ the President asked.
Esposito nodded. ‘It has to be deniable. It can be funded out of O’Connor’s budget and that way you’re at arms’ length.’ Dan Esposito felt a surge of satisfaction at his stroke of genius. This way all the risk would be carried by O’Connor and if anything went wrong he could hang him out to dry.
‘And what do we do about this Dolinsky guy?’ the President asked.
The Vice President had already ensured the Secretary of Defense was on side and he let him make the running.
‘I’ve had my people check him out independently,’ the Secretary of Defense replied authoritatively. Not satisfied that the other agencies that had served the United States for decades were giving him the answers he wanted to hear, the Secretary of Defense had set up his own top-secret cell that provided more palatable intelligence. It would prove to be another disastrous mistake.
‘He’s a brilliant molecular biologist and virologist, Mr President,’ the Secretary of Defense continued, ‘and quite frankly I’d rather he were on our side than al-Qaeda’s. If he wants to defect we should ensure he comes over to us, and the CIA should be told to make that happen.’
‘I agree, Mr President,’ Vice President Bolton said, sensing that even if the President might still be against the development of bioweapons, he would be reluctant to allow al-Qaeda and the Islamists to get their hands on someone like Dolinsky; not to mention that Dolinsky also held the key to his plans for the Beijing Olympics and the dominance of the United States as the world’s only superpower. ‘If you approve the re-introduction of research into biological weapons and I don’t think we can afford not to in light of the latest intelligence reports,’ Bolton pressed, sensing that the President was not yet convinced, ‘Halliwell is going to need the best.’
Vice President Bolton was determined to back the intelligence that best suited his aims of maintaining US supremacy – and his own personal power. Little did Bolton realise what he was unleashing on the world.
CHAPTER 20
