They’d failed to find Sutsoff but after questioning her island staff and searching Sutsoff’s lab and her residence, Lancer knew they were gaining on her. For in a short time this had become an international investigation with new leads coming nearly every fifteen minutes.
Would they get her in time?
Lancer’s attention went back to the slow, meticulous probe of Sutsoff’s lab, which was being transmitted live via satellite to the Crucible scientists and other experts at Fort Detrick in Maryland.
Analysis under the microscope in Sutsoff’s lab was being shared with the former CIA scientists via secured U.S. military laptop computers and secured satellite Internet links.
“We can’t identify what’s been created down here. What does the team at Fort Detrick think?”
“Foster Winfield here. We conclude from our analysis that what you’ve got there was applied in the death of the cruise passenger.”
“Are you certain that was a homicide, Doctor?” Lancer asked.
“Absolutely, and we can also say the lethal agent used has its foundation in material from Crucible.”
“Stolen material?” someone from Defense Intelligence asked.
“Yes.”
“Would you testify to that in court, Dr. Winfield?” Lancer said.
“If I live long enough, yes, but I’m sure Phil and the others would, as well.”
“Then,” Lancer said to the others, “we have enough to put out a warrant for Sutsoff’s arrest and deem her a fugitive suspect.”
“One moment, gentlemen,” Winfield said. “You must understand that based upon the new material found in her lab, it is clear that Gretchen has created an even more powerful lethal agent than what was used on the cruise-ship victim. She remains well ahead of us. Again, we stress the critical need for more analysis on this newer agent. We don’t know how, or when, or if she intends to introduce it or even if we can stop it.”
Frustration rippled among the investigators in the crowded room. A moment later, one of the men nudged Lancer to look out a window at someone pointing at him.
“They need you outside.”
Lancer welcomed the fresh air and Caribbean sun as he headed toward a Jeep and the FBI agent waiting behind the wheel.
“Bob, they found something in Sutsoff’s residence you should see.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know-they told me to get you.”
“Any word on how they did with the warrants at the child-care center?”
“We just heard that the operation went well but there may be more victims. Homicides.”
“What?”
“It just came in-we don’t have anything else.”
Lancer climbed in and as the Jeep rumbled down the road, Lancer saw that his phone signal was strong now that he was outside of the sealed lab buildings. He called Hal Weldon, his supervisor at FBI Headquarters in Washington.
“Hal, it’s Lancer. Have you heard anything on the takedown at the child-care center?”
“It’s sketchy. The operation went well but there could be other victims. It’s all hot right now. We’re trying to get more. What do you have?”
Lancer updated him and made the urgent request for warrants for Sutsoff’s arrest and to prepare her fugitive file.
“We’re getting what we can,” Lancer said. “The CIA, the Bahamians, Interpol, the French, Portuguese and Spanish police are sending stuff on her passports. We should have recent photos.”
“We’ll take care of it up here, Bob. Keep me posted and we’ll blast something out to Homeland and Customs and Border Protection ASAP to warn them to watch for entry while we track her aliases.”
When Lancer arrived at the house, Bahamian and U.S. computer experts were searching Sutsoff’s private computer files and e-mails. They’d bypassed encrypted and password-protected files to find a list of some seventy names and addresses around the world.
“Any idea what this means?” one of them asked.
They scrolled through names and locations in Toronto, London, Shanghai, Berlin, Moscow, Paris, Buenos Aires, Mexico, Tokyo, Hamburg, Chicago, Dallas-and the list went on to include some of the world’s largest cities.
“I think it means a strike is imminent.”
“But when and where?”
“That’s the question,” Lancer said as his phone rang.
63
Nassau, Bahamas
The rotating blades of the ceiling fan offered no relief in the stifling offices of the Central Detective Unit’s headquarters on Thompson Boulevard.
“The new air-conditioning unit has quit again.” Inspector Franklin opened his window wider, before resuming reading his statement. “Don’t worry, Mr. Gannon, we’re almost done.”
Gannon checked the time.
It had been several hours since he and Emma had discovered the two bodies at the resort and that Emma’s baby was alive. During that time, Gannon was permitted to go to the washroom, where he made some secret phone calls. He alerted the WPA’s Nassau Bureau to the story, and he tried unsuccessfully to reach Lancer for help.
In the early part of Gannon and Emma’s questioning, the Nassau police were suspicious about them. Detectives interviewed them separately and were wary to link the two deaths with the child-care center until more information had emerged from the FBI. From what Gannon could gather, a second police action was unfolding on an island in Exuma Sound, but he was not sure what it was. Finally, Inspector Franklin tapped the collection of papers together, indicating he had finished.
“Here is your passport. Thank you for your cooperation. You are free to enjoy your stay or return to New York. We will contact you if necessary.”
“What about my friend, Emma?”
“She should be joining you in the reception area momentarily.”
Gannon stepped from the building and called Lancer’s number again.
Come on, come on.
This time the connection clicked.
“Lancer.”
“It’s Gannon. I need your help.”
“Where are you?”
“Nassau. I just finished up with Nassau detectives. You know that Emma Lane and I found two corpses in the hotel where you sent us?”
“You found them?”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t been fully debriefed, but I will be. I really have to go.”
“Wait, you owe me a few minutes. I need your help.” Gannon spotted Emma and waved her over to him. They moved to a couple of palm trees, which offered them shade and privacy. “Emma Lane’s baby is alive.”
“What? How do you know this?”
“When we came upon those dead people, Emma feared for her son. She’d learned at the care center that he was supposed to be with that couple. For as long as we could stand being in that room we looked for her baby, for any sign of him. There was nothing. But we found Albanian passports for Valmir and Elena Leeka and one for Alek Leeka with a new picture of Emma Lane’s son. It confirms what she’s feared, that her baby was stolen and is alive.
