Silent Creed

17

Benjamin Platt knew better than to offer assistance to the man walking beside him, despite his slow and laborious effort. The two men saw each other almost every week either at meetings or during their weekly lunch together. Colonel Abraham Hess had been Platt’s mentor for almost twenty years. He was the backbone of DARPA, a valued consultant at USAMRIID. Never once would Platt think to use the word “old” to describe Hess, yet today he thought he glimpsed a tired and worn-out fatigue in the man’s step.

He knew that Hess was concerned about the DARPA facility affected by the landslide in North Carolina. But Platt sensed there was something more than just concern. By the time they reached Hess’s office, Platt could hear the older man’s raspy breathing. Perspiration beaded on his upper lip and forehead. Platt watched him as they took their seats, careful not to let Hess know that he saw him using both hands to steady himself as he dropped into the club chair. His office was massive and included a huge desk and floor-to-ceiling bookcases. There was also a sitting area with a small kitchenette in the corner.

“Should we have some coffee?” Hess asked.

Platt knew the offer meant that Hess wanted his guest to make and serve it. He didn’t mind. He was on his feet before he answered with “That sounds good. I’ll make us a pot.”

“Little Ellie Delanor,” Hess said, shaking his head and smiling. “She turned out to be a beautiful woman. She was all knobby-kneed and skinny as a girl. She has her father’s eyes. Reminded me how much I miss him.”

“I never had the pleasure of meeting Colonel Delanor.”

“He was one of the best men I ever knew. I’m glad to see his daughter is on our side.”

Platt knew “our side” simply meant a public official willing to stay out of the way of their jobs to research and develop what was necessary to keep the military and U.S. citizens safe. He wasn’t sure what made Hess think Ellie Delanor was on their side. As soon as they had left the conference room, Hess was handed a subpoena by a young staff member whom Platt recognized as one of Senator Delanor’s.

He said nothing, however, as he scooped and measured coffee grounds from the economy-sized, discounted can. The man could more than afford one of the fresh-ground designer brands and still chose this one. Platt saw it as a telltale sign that the genius behind so many innovative and technologically advanced ideas still liked to keep some things just the way he’d always had them.

“I need to ask a favor of you, Benjamin,” Hess told him as Platt handed him a ceramic cup that rattled against the saucer as soon as the two were in Hess’s brown-spotted hands.

“I already told you, Abe, I don’t mind testifying. The committee should hear about all the groundbreaking research USAMRIID is working on. All of us could be affected by the results of this hearing.”

“And I appreciate your help, but that’s not what I was going to ask.”

Hess pursed his lips to take a sip as he held up his finger, a familiar gesture that Platt knew meant to hold on a minute and he would explain.

“I’m concerned about the facility down in North Carolina. If there’s an investigation, it could be messy, especially now, during these hearings. I wonder if you might know someone, perhaps at the FBI, who might be able to go down there. Someone who would be discreet.” Then he waved his hand and said, “You know, someone on our side.”

Again that term, only this time it brought Platt to the edge of his chair. “How badly was the facility affected?”

Hess shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal, but his eyes flitted back and forth across Platt’s face without settling.

“It’s too early to know. I haven’t been able to talk to Dr. Shaw yet. I’ve asked Peter Logan to find out what’s going on. He promised to send down a few of his people.” He glanced at his wristwatch and shook his head in disappointment. “I expected to hear from him by now with an update.”

Platt knew Peter Logan. He was a soldier, not a scientist, and Platt had never quite understood why Hess had taken him under his wing — so to speak — even making him a deputy director. But that was what Hess did with many young men, including Platt. He saw potential where others did not, and as a result fostered an amazing loyalty. There were men who would literally take a bullet for Colonel Hess. Platt wondered if Logan was one of them.

Logan and Platt were about the same age. Both had served in Afghanistan and Iraq, though Platt served as a medical doctor and surgeon and Logan as a platoon leader. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t like the man.

“Why the FBI?” Platt finally asked when Hess didn’t offer anything else.

“They will, most likely, be the ones asking questions if something has gone wrong. I’d like to know we at least have someone who will be—” He stopped, as if to select his words carefully. “Someone who will be on our side.”

There was that phrase again, as though they were schoolchildren choosing up sides for a game of flag football.

“What exactly was at this particular facility?” Platt asked.

Another shrug from Hess, and Platt noticed how slumped his shoulders had become.

“I’m not sure at this time. You know we purposely allow our facilities and directors much leeway for their research.”

Platt did know that. There were dozens, perhaps more than a hundred, research facilities across the country like the one in North Carolina. Giving them a generous amount of independence was an attempt to relieve them of the many constraints the politicians tried to saddle them with. Platt understood all too well from his own experience at USAMRIID how much politicians could get in the way. Everyone wanted a cure for Ebola but few wanted to know the deliberate and tedious process it took to develop a serum or vaccine. Until recently they couldn’t even experiment on human cases.

“I do know Dr. Shaw, who’s the director of this facility,” Hess told him. “She’s a brilliant woman. Very impressive. I doubt there’s a virus she wouldn’t be able to replicate.”

Platt felt a knot tighten in his stomach with the sudden realization.

“Hold on, Abe. Are you saying there could be Level 3 or Level 4 samples at this facility?”

“You can’t find cures without having the samples.” When he saw Platt’s concern, he continued, “They take every precaution to keep them safe. Our laboratory lockboxes are made to withstand a terrorist explosion.”

“But can they withstand the destructive forces of a landslide?”

The phone began to ring on Hess’s desk, interrupting them. Before Platt could offer to get it for him, Hess struggled to his feet, shuffling as quickly as he could to pick up the receiver.

“This is Colonel Hess.”

Platt watched the colonel’s face as he listened to the caller. The downturned mouth, the taut jaw, the perpetual lines in his forehead remained unchanged. The perfect poker player except for his eyes, which again darted from side to side, giving away his worry.

He was quiet for almost a minute before he said, “I’ll get back to you with instructions.” And then he hung up.

He stayed behind the desk, leaning against it as if needing an anchor. This time when he looked up at Platt, he couldn’t hide the anxiety.

“One of the scientists was found.”

Platt waited to see relief that never came.

Then Hess added, “He’s dead.”

“He died in the landslide?”

“No. Probably before. It appears that he was shot in the head.”