contagious. Maybe the young man was killed just before that point.”
“So, Doctor, where the hell does this leave us? And what can we do to help?” Conway crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs.
“Thanks to your agents, Bill, we just learned that some scientist was talking to young Somali men at the mosque.”
“You think he’s going to introduce smallpox?” Conway’s eyes opened wider. “We’re already tracking this guy and have the probable insertion point under constant surveillance. Well, it will be. But what I don’t get, is how’s he gonna do it?”
Dr. Samson shook his head. “We don’t know. Smallpox is highly adaptable to the human body and is considered to be the worst human disease. It’s estimated to have killed more people than any other infectious pathogen in history.”
People around the table shifted uncomfortably. Some looked into their coffee cups and drank. Murmurs bubbled around the room. Finally, Valentini spoke, “I don’t know … I mean, I’m not a doctor, but I remember the anthrax scare. Turned out to be a lot of fear and not much substance. How can this guy carry out such a plan?”
“You make an excellent point. Before an outbreak of smallpox could occur, two major problems must be overcome. One, the terrorist must get a hold of the Variola virus and be able to transport it. Until the theft in Russia, that hadn’t been accomplished by anyone that we know of, although we suspect several other countries have secret stockpiles they’ve purchased on the black market. Second, the person must develop a delivery method. That’s where we’re at now. Would they dump the virus in drinking water, drop a bomb of it on New York? To make it harder, the Variola virus can live outside the human body for up to several months. We’re wracking our brains trying to anticipate how a terrorist would deliver the virus.”
Conway’s assistant came into the room. He told her, “Get the director and notify the Strategic Information Operations Center in Washington.” She nodded and left immediately. Conway held up his hands. “Folks, let’s take a break to clear our heads. We need to all be at our best for this.”
Paul’s phone vibrated. “What’s up, Zehra? I’m very busy.”
“Sorry. I just wondered if you knew anything about a pair of latex gloves at the crime scene?”
“Uh … no,” he lied. “I’ve got lots of other problems. I can’t tell you much, but I want you to be careful. Stay away from Burnsville for the next few days.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We suspect uh … uh a problem may occur at the mosque there. Gotta run.” He clicked off.
As people wandered out of the room, Paul approached Joan. He cornered her near the window that looked out over downtown Minneapolis. He asked her, “Why? I realize you’ve got your secrets, stuff you can’t tell me, but this wasn’t a small item.”
“Paul, most of this is so highly classified. I couldn’t even write it in my own diary.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Well, whatever you believe, I was instructed to be careful with the intel.”
“But you were at the crime scene. Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Because of the evidence we found.”
“Joan, this is bullshit.”
She interrupted him. “National security is all I can say.”
“I work for the god damn FBI! National security’s what we do, or did you forget? You knew how serious this case is to all of us.”
Joan sighed. “I’ve got my career to think of. If ICE busts this, I’m golden. I gave you the things I could give you.” She looked up at him. For a moment, her eyes softened. “Sorry. Shit happens.”
“I don’t …” Paul shook his head and turned away. Once again, ambition trumped cooperation and unfortunately, national security. Maybe now that everyone was literally in the same room, they could operate together. He walked away without saying another word.
Back at the conference table, many people had returned and sat in the chairs or stood. Valentini said, “I get how this works, Doc. But, do you really think it’s gonna be a problem? I mean, if smallpox has been eradicated, we can just snuff this out and we’re done, right?”
Dr. Samson’s eyes lifted slowly. He unwrapped a Snickers candy bar and took a big bite. He looked at his team grouped into one corner. He looked back at Valentini. “Agent, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the threat. You’d better sit down for this.”
Thirty-Six
Friday morning, Mustafa rushed from his second house to the mosque in the northern suburb. He knew the drop house had been discovered. He must move quickly now before the FBI found out any more.
Luckily, he had access to information through Zehra. He paused to think about her. In a different time and a different place, maybe she could have … he dismissed the thought abruptly. She would never submit to him as a faithful Muslim woman should.
For now, he must keep that channel open and pretend to be interested in her. He knew she had become suspicious. Mustafa planned to keep her fooled until the end. He’d dispose of her like the rest, a sacrifice she would make for Allah.
She had called him a few minutes ago with more valuable information. For some reason, Zehra also wanted the exact location of the school where they would go for the science fair tonight. Mustafa assured her that he would drive and return her home early. Her brazen questioning bothered him, but he’d been smart enough to let her talk. She revealed that she’d contacted the FBI. Mustafa learned they had discovered the southern mosque. If they had not already flooded the area, they would soon. Since Mustafa had worked at three mosques with three different groups of kids, it didn’t make any difference anyway. He wouldn’t be there.
Instead, the science fair would be crowded with hundreds of people.
Would Zehra inadvertently tell the FBI? Mustafa worried about the possibility, but she still did not connect him with anything of interest to the FBI. He was probably safe for now. That was why he had to keep her with him tonight-so he could control her movements and communication.
It would work perfectly.
He ran over the details. Because many of the private companies had such good relations with the schools, he was given free access to the building anytime he wanted it. Mustafa had purposely spent time wandering in the basement of his school to the point the maintenance people ignored him.
In twenty minutes, Mustafa pulled his Benz up to the faculty parking lot of Hiawatha High School. He got out, locked up, and hurried into the school. It was between classes, so the halls were full of students. Mustafa walked to the main office and checked in. The receptionist recognized him.
“Hey, Dr. A. Nice to see you again. Ready for tonight? I’m like, so excited to see all these projects.”
He nodded at the stupid woman and hurried past her with the ID she handed him. She deserved to be one of the first to go, he thought.
He had already made precautions to avoid exposure during the release. In addition, he’d already taken the vaccine that came with the package in order to immunize himself, just in case.
He walked to a long hallway at the end of the building and let himself through a door that led downstairs to the extensive spaces underneath the school. The area was used for storage mostly. Mustafa looked for the air ducts he’d found earlier. Although he’d gone over this many times, he would inspect it all again.
He reached a corner of the lower level directly below the classroom where he and his students would present their projects. He looked at the vents on the outer walls to make certain they were open and clear, as he did also with the return vents in the center walls.
Next, he went over to the air pump attached to the return vents. He flicked it on and went back upstairs. Today the room was not used, which was why Mustafa picked that one to have his students occupy tonight. He had unencumbered access now. Lighting a match, he held it in front of the vent and watched as the air pulled the flame down toward the basement. It would create a negative pressure condition in the room to assure the process
