network.”
There was another one from his old section, the Joint Terrorism Task Force.
“East African sources report chatter of operatives preparing to mount a ‘large action.’ Target and method of attack unknown.”
Lancer reflected on that one as the meeting continued with other reports, including an intriguing one from the FBI.
“A forty-one-year-old male U.S. national died mysteriously aboard a Spanish passenger ship returning to Fort Lauderdale, FL, from a Caribbean cruise. Cause and manner unknown. The Broward County medical examiner conducted an autopsy then alerted the CDC. CDC now investigating and accelerating testing. No other signs of illness among other passengers, nor any indication of foul play at this time. Cruise liner scrubbing entire vessel as a precaution.”
Near the meeting’s end, the U.S. Secret Service reiterated that there was a fifty-fifty chance that the president and first lady would be attending the Human World Conference in New York City. All advance work was continuing. It was processing some sixty individuals on its watch list and analyzing ninety-four threats, everything from a letter to the White House stating the president will die if he comes to NYC, to boasts by fringe extremists groups that they will have “martyrs” in Central Park “for the day of reckoning.” The Secret Service had the security lead and was working with federal, state and local agencies.
As the meeting finished, Lancer stayed to make notes when he was approached by two CIA officials he knew: Raymond Roth and Nick Webb.
They were not smiling.
“Isn’t Canada nice this time of year, Bob?” Webb asked.
Lancer knew that they were aware he’d been poking around in the CIA’s backyard and had expected this.
“I’m curious,” Lancer said. “Why didn’t you raise Crucible at the meeting?”
“We’re still working on it. There’s nothing to report.”
“Did you find Gretchen?”
“Stay out of the way, Bob,” Roth said. “We’ve got this.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“All we have is a few dedicated aging scientists expressing some concerns. We’re looking into it,” Webb said.
“I can understand why the CIA wouldn’t want this little embarrassment getting out of hand-rogue former scientist, lethal top-secret experiments. It’s the stuff of thrillers, movies, congressional hearings and the death of many careers.”
Roth stepped into Lancer’s space.
“We’re on this, Bob. I think we know what constitutes a threat.”
Lancer’s jaw line pulsed. Roth had hit a nerve in sacred territory.
“You know, Ray, the last time I heard talk like that my wife and daughter came home to me in coffins.”
“Bob, you’d be wise to stay out of our way.”
He stared at Roth and Webb, the tension rising, then his cell phone vibrated and flashed with a call, cuing Roth and Webb’s departure.
Lancer had a security-encrypted text. He entered his password to read the message from one of his new sources overseas.
Got new data linked to SS in D es S. Need to meet U in North Africa. Advise.
Lancer responded.
When amp; where?
34
Benghazi, Libya
Time was ticking down on Dr. Gretchen Sutsoff.
After launching her experiment against the cruise ship passenger, she flew to Libya to confront the angry leaders of her inner group.
The secret meeting was at the new National General People’s University. Drake Stinson had arranged it with the help of Professor Ibrahim Jehaimi, one of her inner circle. Jehaimi had worked with Sutsoff on some sensitive projects while he’d studied in the United States. Since then, he’d remained a believer in her cause.
The university’s campus featured a vast palm-lined water mall that was deserted today, for Jehaimi had scheduled the meeting on Saturday evening when few students were present. Stinson’s private security teams were positioned throughout the building. The meeting took place in a room within the engineering department where Sutsoff sat patiently at a boardroom table.
As Stinson and Jehaimi ushered the members of her inner circle to their seats, Sutsoff surveyed their faces: General Dimitri, who once led the corrupt intelligence agency of a former Soviet Republic; then Goran, the unshaven man in torn jeans, who operated a global human trafficking network out of Istanbul. There was Reich, the man in the tailored suit who headed a web of criminal corporations out of Zurich; and Downey, the well-built man who was an international arms dealer from Newark.
“You know, Doctor-” Goran, the trafficker, scratched his whiskers then studied his fingertips “-there are people who want you dead for failing to deliver on your promises.”
“Such a shortsighted view,” Sutsoff said. “It will guarantee our failure when all I require is a little more time to ensure our success.”
She put up with this unholy alliance because each member provided resources she needed for her work.
“How much time before we see results?” Reich asked.
“Soon.”
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” Downey said.
“We’ve been pouring money into your secret tests that we know nothing about. When are we going to see a return?” Reich asked.
“Stinson told you of security breaches in Brazil, Dar es Salaam and other places,” General Dimitri said.
“It’s your job to take care of them,” Sutsoff said.
“We have, but the longer this takes, the greater our vulnerability.”
Goran the trafficker scowled at Sutsoff. “I don’t like what I’m hearing, Doctor. My people don’t like it. We want results now!”
“I’ve told you, the prototype’s been launched,” she said. “Watch for news reports. Watch how they’ll scramble. Every indication points to a successful outcome. All that remains is for me to obtain the key component to strengthen our formula, then initiate the last stages to activation. I leave tomorrow to personally oversee the final part of the operation.”
“You haven’t told us what the ultimate target is,” the general said.
“The Human World Conference in New York City.”
“That’s just over a week away. Will you be ready?” Downey asked.
“Yes,” Sutsoff said. “That’s when E.D. will demonstrate its power to reshape human destiny. The return on your investment will exceed anything you could ever imagine.”
Goran smiled.
“Now, Drake, if you will.” Sutsoff nodded and Stinson began removing the cork from a dark bottle and pouring its contents into six glasses. “My apologies to our host for violating local custom with this wine, but I picked up a lovely red in Paris and I believe we must toast destiny.”
Jehaimi checked his cell phone then excused himself from the room, making Sutsoff curious as to why he was leaving just as all the men joined her in raising their glasses. Each of them drank; however, Sutsoff’s glass held wine from a different bottle.
As each of the men swallowed his wine, Sutsoff smiled.
“Now, if you’ll allow me to say good evening, I’d like to head back to my hotel. I have an early flight.”
