Fallout

“I agree,” Lambert said in Fisher’s ear. “This is unexpected.”

Fisher had already compressed the flexicam’s video feed and sent it to Third Echelon via encrypted burst transmission. Grimsdottir had quickly isolated the Korean’s face, pulled a still frame from the video, and was now running it through the NSA’s database — whose reach encompassed the CIA, the FBI, Homeland Security, and Immigration — looking for a match.

“You’re tracking them?” Lambert asked.

Fisher checked his OPSAT. “Yeah, hold on… They just stopped.” As he watched, the cluster of blue dots that represented Stewart and the Korean split in half, one staying in place while the other headed forward, in the direction of the bridge. “Okay, I think they parked him somewhere. Gotta move. Sandy’s going to give me twelve minutes before she hails them again. Don’t know if they’ll move him again, but I’d better assume so.”

“Agreed,” Lambert said. “Go.”

Zooming and panning the Gosselin’s blueprint as he went, Fisher followed Stewart’s RFID cluster down three decks, deeper into the bowels of the ship, then finally into the aft cargo area. He found himself at the mouth of a long, dark alleyway bordered on both sides by winch-lifted cargo bins, each the size of a mobile home and fronted by a padlocked ten-foot-by-ten-foot door.

He flipped down his goggles and switched to NV, then tracked the signal to the end of the alley and stopped before the last bin on the port side. On his schematic, the blue cluster was pulsing steadily on the other side of the door.

Fisher knelt before the door and went to work. The padlock was tough, resisting his picks for a full two minutes before popping open with a muted snick. He hooked the padlock on his belt, then unholstered his pistol and flattened himself against the bin, opposite the hinges. Using his foot, he swung open the door and peeked around the corner.

There, lying in the fetal position on the floor of the bin, was Stewart. He looked asleep, but as Fisher stepped through the door, Stewart gave a whimper and curled himself into a tighter ball, forehead touching his knees. He started rocking.

“Please, please, please…” he muttered. “Leave me alone…”

Good Christ, Fisher thought.

He swung shut the door, then knelt down and flipped up his goggles. He touched a button on his web harness, and an LED light came out, casting the still-balled-up Stewart in a pool of light.

“Mr. Stewart.”

“Please, please, please…”

“Mr. Stewart,” Fisher repeated, this time more firmly. “I’m here to help you.”

Stewart stopped rocking. He cracked an eyelid and squinted at Fisher. “What?”

“I’m here to help you.”

“Who are you? What’s going on?”

This was going to be a tough conversation, Fisher knew. He needed Stewart to cooperate, and he couldn’t risk taking him off the ship. This man was his only link to Carmen Hayes; she his only link to whatever had gotten Peter killed — and in turn the PuH-19 itself. It was a chain he couldn’t afford to break.

He briefly considered using Spigot, but Stewart was clearly frazzled, both physically and mentally. Spigot could turn him into a vegetable. So, how to convince Stewart to remain a prisoner, in what was likely his closest imagining of hell, keep his mouth shut, and play the role of human beacon while Fisher tried to put the puzzle together? There was no easy way to do that. He decided to play it straight.

“Mr. Stewart, I need a favor. Can I call you Calvin?”

“What?” Stewart replied. “What, yes, okay, sure. You’re going to get me out of here, right? Let’s go… now, before they come back.”

“Calvin, the favor I need from you is this: I need you to stay here, keep your ears and eyes open, and play dumb.”

“Huh?”

“The people that kidnapped you also kidnapped a woman a few months ago. She’s a scientist, like you.”

“I’m sorry about that, really, but I can’t—”

“If I take you off this ship, these people will—”

“I don’t care what they will or will not do. Get me out of here.”

“Keep your voice down, Calvin. You’re a physicist, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“You know what PuH-19 is?”

Stewart’s face changed, his eyes and lips narrowing. “Yeah, I know what it is.”

“We believe someone connected to the people who took you and this other scientist have some PuH-19. They’ve already killed one person with it. We don’t know how much they have or what they plan to do with it. You take a coffee can full of that stuff, disperse it in a city… Well, you know what happens.”

“Yeah.” Something interesting happened as Fisher watched Stewart’s face. The color returned to his skin, and the muscles on both his jaws bunched. He took a deep breath and said, “PuH-19. You’re sure?”

Fisher nodded.

“Oh, God,” Stewart rasped. “Good God, I was afraid of that.”

“If you can hang on for just a little while longer, we can put the pieces together and track these people down. But it only works if you stay here and ride this out. I know it’s a crappy deal, and believe me, if I could do it any other way, I would. Can you do it?”

Stewart swallowed hard, hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I can do it. One thing, though.”

“What?”

“Don’t forget to come get me, huh?”

Fisher smiled. “You have my word.”

Fisher checked his watch. Time was up. He held up a finger for Stewart to be quiet, then said into his SVT, “Talk to me, Sandy.”

“The Japanese cargo ship is two miles off Gosselin’s bow. We better do it now before they’re close enough for a visual. If that happens, the jig is up.”

“Go ahead.”

Fisher switched comm channels, turned back to Stewart, and said, “In a few minutes they may come back and take you back to the cabin. If they do, I’ll come find you.”

“Okay.”

“Be right back.”

Fisher slipped out of the bin and crept to the end of the alleyway. He planted a Sticky Ear at the entrance, set the OPSAT to STICKY EAR — ALERT ON CLOSE PASSAGE, then returned to the bin. In his ear he heard Sandy’s voice:

“Cargo vessel Gosselin, this is the Canadian Coast Guard patrol ship Louisbourg, over.”

“Louisbourg, this is Gosselin, roger, over.”

“Be advised, Gosselin, we have been ordered to break off and assist a search and rescue. You’re released; continue on course, over.”

“Uh… roger, Louisbourg, continuing on course. Gosselin out.”

Fisher switched back to the primary channel and said, “Nicely done, Sandy.”

“At your service. Standing by for extraction.”

Fisher sat down beside Stewart. I’ve got an alarm set; if they come back, I’ll know.”

Stewart nodded.

“What can you tell me, Calvin? Who’s the Korean?”

“I don’t know.”

“When did you first meet him?”

“Just when I got aboard here. They had me locked up somewhere, I don’t know where. It sounded close to the water. They had a hood on me.”