Biowar

88

Rubens avoided glancing at his watch as the discussion continued. It was now early morning in Moscow; they had just under four hours to strike.

And he had just over twenty minutes to give the order.

Technically. In reality, Rubens had foreseen the possibility that the discussion might continue past the optimum moment and so had instructed Telach to have the strike aircraft ready. To keep operational secrecy — and to prevent accusations that he had jumped the gun later on — he had also told her to use the crew from the Syrian mission, giving them information only on an as-needed basis. The final strike order would be given only if he approved it.

“I think Mr. Rubens is a warmonger,” said Sandra Marshall.

Even Rubens had to take notice of that. He looked up at her as she continued, telling the President that the national situation was well on its way to being under control. Attacking a hospital was uncalled for.

Her position was eminently reasonable, calmly presented, and in its way entirely logical.

She was quite good, Rubens realized. Quite good.

“Preemptive action may well be justified,” said Debra Jodelin. “But there is a lot of risk to innocent people there. Can’t you strike the bacteria while it’s being transported?”

“We have a much better chance here, much better,” said Hadash. “Hitting a moving object can be quite difficult, especially when you’re launching your weapons from sixty or seventy thousand feet. We would run the same risks of collateral damage, with a much higher chance of failure. Considerably higher.”

“What if the bacteria survives the attack?” asked Jodelin.

Before Rubens could open his mouth, the Secretary of Defense, Art Blanders, jumped in.

“The weapons they’re talking about using would obliterate the lab area,” said Blanders. “And I assume pile debris in such a way that it could not be easily accessed.”

“That’s correct,” said Rubens. He and the Defense secretary occasionally disagreed, but Blanders could be a very useful ally. “Without a support medium, the bacteria should die within twenty-four hours. All of their machinery will be wrecked and of course the electricity will be turned off. We’ll infiltrate the recovery teams, just to be sure.”

“If we strike them like this, there may be consequences,” said Secretary of State James Lincoln. “Severe consequences. We should explain our rationale.”

“They won’t know it’s us,” said Hadash. He seemed to be a firm supporter of the plan, albeit a reluctant one.

“The weapons are sterile,” explained Rubens. “Everything is arranged to make it appear as if it’s a terrorist attack. We’ll plant information so that the Russians have plenty of evidence.”

“Devious,” said Marshall. Her tone was closer to mocking than admiring. Rubens realized that the performance was mostly meant for him — she was showing him that she could be an enemy as easily as an ally.

Marcke, apparently mindful of the time line Rubens had laid out earlier, raised his hand to end the discussion.

“Do it,” said the President. “Let’s talk about what Dr. Lester should be saying on the talk shows, and then let’s all take a break.”

Rubens called the Art Room from inside the White House.

“We’re go on the project,” he told Telach.

“Yes.”

Her voice sounded distant but no longer shaky. Progress, he thought.

“Where else are we?”

“We’ve downloaded data from the Syrians. Lia and Dean are just getting out of there; we’re setting up to debrief them and run back the mission.”

“Have you analyzed the bacteria from the school?”

“We haven’t gotten it physically to the mobile lab yet,” said Telach.

“We’re positive the Swiss don’t have the bacteria?”

“If you want to talk to Johnny Bib about it, I’ll be happy to put him on.”

“Not necessary, Marie. What about Karr?”

“Tommy’s ready in Bangkok. We’ve tracked the detonator.”

“Very good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I have it under control.”

He considered this. Marie had been out of sorts the other day but now seemed back on her game — the sharp come-back earlier and the bristle over his hurrying back were exhibits A and B.

“You seem more yourself this morning, Marie,” he told her.

“I always feel better after a sleepless night,” she told him. “Excuse me, but I have a job to do.”

“Very good,” he said, hitting END.