Memorial Day

Eighty-Four

VIRGINIA

The NEST helicopter came in over the garage, hovered for approximately ten seconds, and then departed. A deputy stood in the driveway with his slicker on watching the entire thing. About a minute later a second deputy arrived and then a third, and then they just kept coming. Within ten minutes the long driveway was lined with police cruisers, government sedans, and SUVs.

Debbie Hanousek and her Search Response Team were already on their way when they got the call from the tech onboard the helicopter that the site had come up positive. They arrived in two Suburbans and barged their way past the vehicles that nearly blocked the driveway. When they got near the house they drove right across the lawn to the garage.

Hanousek had her door open before the truck came to a full stop. She grabbed her Baltimore Orioles cap from the dash and hit the soggy ground running. She found her way through the throng of law enforcement officers and saw the trailer. She turned to the group and said, "I need everybody to back up at least a hundred feet."

None of the men had any idea who she was and instead of moving, they just stared at her.

"Guys, I'm a federal agent, and we have reason to believe that trailer contains toxic material. If any of you are still thinking about fathering children, you're going to want to back up right now."

That did the trick. All of the men backed up except one. She surmised that he was probably the owner since he was in shorts. "Sir, are you the owner?"

"My parents are."

"Well, I'm going to need you to back up." One of her techs came running over wearing a backpack that contained a sensitive gamma neutron detector. Hanousek pointed at the trailer and said, "Get right to it."

The man still hadn't budged. "I want to know what's going on right now."

"I can't tell you because I'm not sure, myself, but for your own health you need to back up right now."

"I show up here this morning with my family. My mom and dad aren't here but their car is, and I've got a cab and a truck sitting in their garage and that trailer over there." He came closer. "I have three little kids inside who want to know where their grandparents are, and all of these cops are scaring them to death."

Hanousek could see this guy wasn't going to simply walk away. She grabbed him by the elbow and walked him over to the first man she saw wearing an FBI windbreaker. Hanousek pointed at the agent and looked at the guy in shorts. "Tell this agent everything you just told me and answer his questions." She then looked back at the agent. "I want you to relay everything he tells you directly to Assistant Director McMahon up at CT Watch."

Hanousek marched back to the trailer and hooked up her earpiece and mike for her secure mobile phone. She hit the speed dial for her boss and a second later he was on the line asking her in his typical SEAL talk for a "sit rep," which to the nonmilitary types was short for situation report.

"It appears to be the trailer. We're running a quick check with the gamma neutron detector right now."

The tech finished his sweep and said, "Gamma five, neutron three."

Hanousek repeated the reading to Reimer.

"That's a little lower than I expected."

"Well, they might have shielded it," replied Hanousek.

All of the sudden a voice Hanousek didn't recognize came on the line. "Paul, what's going on?"

"Debbie, we've got Mitch Rapp from the CIA, and Skip McMahon on the line."

"This is the trailer we've been looking for and it's hot...just not as hot as we expected it to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rapp asked.

"They've either shielded it, or the device is no longer in the trailer and we're seeing contamination."

"Debbie," said Reimer. "Get an HPG count and skip the X-ray. Have the FBI drill a hole in the side of the trailer. Do it nice and high. You know the routine."

Hanousek relayed the order to one of her techs who grabbed a black case and ran over to the trailer. Another man pulled out a cordless drill and Hanousek pointed to a spot on the top third of the trailer. It took little effort for the drill to pierce the thin metal skin. A small fiber optic camera with an infrared light on the end was fed through the fresh hole like a snake.

Hanousek cupped the small video screen in her hands, shielding it from the rain with the brim of her hat. She strained to make sense of the grainy black-and-white image. After a second she closed her eyes and said, "The trailer is empty."