“They’re full of plans. Question is: who has the balls to pull the pin?”
“What about a policy on those already infected?”
“Is that something you really want to know?”
“We can’t be part of that.”
“We’re not.” Stoddard pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and slipped it onto the desk.
“What’s that?”
CDA’s director shifted his shoulders, eyes taking a walk around the room. “I recorded Homeland’s presentation tonight-laying out its plans for how to deal with any infected on the West Side. Asshole went into great detail.”
“Why give it to me?”
“I know Danielson dragged you into this. And now he’s off the grid.”
“So you do think we’re going to be made scapegoats?”
Stoddard pushed the drive forward with his thumb. “A little insurance, Ellen. Days like these, it’s not a bad idea.”
She shook her head once but slipped the drive into her pocket. Stoddard stood and walked to the door.
“Let’s hope we’ve got it all wrong,” he said. “I have a six a.m. call with Washington. I’ll catch you up after that.”
And then Ellen was alone again. The clock on her computer read 4:12 a.m. She typed and clicked for a few minutes, even as cold tears filled the cracks in her cheeks.
“Hey.” Molly Carrolton had slipped in without a whisper. Or maybe she’d been there all along.
Ellen grabbed a Kleenex from a box on her desk. “I’m sorry. Long day.”
“And night. You okay?”
“Been better.”
“Stoddard?”
Ellen shook her head. “It’s not his fault.”
Molly took the chair Stoddard had just vacated and inched it closer. “What is it, then?”
“Nothing. Everything.”
“You heard from Anna?”
Ellen felt the cell phone, heavy in her pocket. “Not yet.”
“I checked the hospitals,” Molly said.
“Thanks. I did as well.”
“She’s fine. Probably forgot to turn on her phone when she landed.”
“I know.” Ellen recognized the lie between them but didn’t have the energy for anything else.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?”
Ellen shook her head. “The government wants us down at Cook County Hospital within the hour.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s where the dead people are, Molly. Now, help me pack.”
Ellen began to shove files into a leather case. Molly hesitated a moment, then did the same. By 5:00 a.m., they were back down at Cook. A half hour after that, they started cutting people open and saying hello to whatever killed them.
CHAPTER 23
I got up at a little after nine, found Maggie’s leash, and took a walk. A dark seal of clouds pressed in off the lake, bottling up the city in a jar of shiny glass. I leashed the pup outside Intelligentsia, grabbed a coffee, and pulled out the binder Ellen Brazile had given me on CDA.
The first few chapters laid out the basics of black biology. I flipped to the middle and found a section called “Smart Clothing.” As an offshoot to their research, CDA had developed something called nanofibers-essentially carbon nanotube molecules woven into the fabric of clothing. According to the binder, nanofibers added less than an ounce of weight to any garment and rendered it virtually bulletproof. The fibers also monitored the wearer’s vital signs and were capable of holding and releasing small amounts of stimulants and antibiotics directly into the bloodstream. For a soldier freshly shot on the battlefield, pretty handy.
I took a sip of coffee and turned the page. The next chapter talked about piezoelectric nanofibers capable of storing kinetic energy generated by the human body. When woven into a shirt or pair of pants, they turned the garment into a portable battery pack, charging up a cell phone, radio, PDA-anything you might carry in your pocket.
I thought that was pretty cool as well. I also thought the word “piezoelectric” gave me a headache. So I put the binder away, and watched a good-looking woman put cream and sugar in her coffee. Then I pulled out my cell- noting how pedestrian my pockets suddenly seemed-and dialed Rita Alvarez’s number.
“Michael?”
“Rita. How are you?”
“I’m fine. What’s up?”
“You tell me.”
She didn’t respond.
“You talk to your boyfriend?”
“I talk to him all the time.”
“You talk to him about last night? About the address you gave me?”
“You know I did, Michael. I had no choice.”
“Did you know Lee was peddling dope?”
“Christ, no. All I knew about Lee was what I told you. He was acting as a middleman on the medical supply contracts.”
“Why was Lee talking to you?”
“He was thinking about talking. Seemed to me like he might have a score to settle with someone, but I couldn’t say for sure. I told him I’d keep his name out of any story.”
“Who do you think killed him?” I said.
“You really need to ask?”
“The Fours?”
“If he was selling dope, I’d say that’s a good bet.”
“Nothing to do with your story?”
“I doubt it.” A pause. “I know this sounds selfish, but did you find anything that might help on that?”
“On your story?”
“Yes.” Her voice was soaked in guilt, which made it that much easier to forget I hadn’t told her about the cellar full of body bags.
“Lee was dead when I got there, Rita. Sorry. By the way, you and Vince need to start talking to each other about your work.”
“Thanks, Michael.”
“No problem.” I looked up as the front door to Intelligentsia creaked open. Another good-looking woman walked in. This one, I knew.
“Rita, I need to call you back.”
“Why? What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Is it about my story?”
“Gotta go, Rita.”
“Not a word to anyone downtown.”
“Good-bye, Rita.”
“Michael.”
“Good-bye.”
