The Janus Reprisal

44

Klein stepped into the situation room where the president and a secret service agent waited. A large conference table dominated the rectangular area, and flat-screen televisions, turned off at the moment, lined the walls. The president nodded and the agent left, closing the door behind him.

“Tell me your urgent news,” Castilla said.

“I think we’ve figured out why the terrorists stole the bacteria.” He laid out Smith’s theory and told him about the subway malfunction.

Castilla shifted. “I think I should inform you that the DNI briefed me on the situation involving Russell and Smith. He said that the CIA believed that she’s gone rogue, and he’s one of her more questionable assets.”

Klein wasn’t surprised. The director of national intelligence usually gathered information from a broad range of agencies before preparing his daily report. The CIA would have notified him of the action against Russell and Smith.

“And the DNI? Did he believe it? I mean, technically, placing field officers in responsible positions within the CIA was his policy decision. The CIA didn’t like the idea from the start.”

“Actually, that was my decision. I thought we needed to close some of the disconnects that I was seeing between the knowledge of the officers in the field and that of the officers Stateside. At the time the DNI agreed with me.” Castilla shook his head. “He, too, thought that Russell was a convenient scapegoat. However, he said that he wouldn’t interfere with the CIA and their handling of the situation unless it became clear that they were trumping up false charges against her.”

Klein sat down in a chair opposite the president. “I’m convinced that Smith is solid, of course, but I’m also fairly certain that Russell is as well. I haven’t known her that long, but I know she’s very good at what she does. I think there’s a mole in the CIA, but I don’t think it’s Russell.” Castilla stared at Klein and said nothing. Klein let him think it through.

“Let’s put the question aside for the moment. Tell me about the subway. Did you send the NYPD to check it out? Along with an FBI officer responsible for the region?”

Klein shook his head. “Neither yet. Smith was concerned that they’d fill the station with personnel and, if he’s right, all will get infected with the virus. That’s a concern of mine as well. I’m afraid the Seventy-second Street station has already been swarmed with MTA personnel because it malfunctioned first. The good news is that they’ve done a routine check of the rail and reported to the NYPD that they found nothing unusual. With regard to the 191st Street station, I’ve agreed to give him some time to verify his theory.”

“Have the NYPD called in hazardous incident teams?” Castilla said.

Klein shook his head. “The NYPD is currently under the mistaken impression that Smith is a killer and Russell a mole, and I’m concerned that they’ll tip off the real one to our knowledge of the plan and he’ll get Dattar out of there before we can nab him. Especially since they have a CIA officer working in their intelligence-gathering arm. His name is Harcourt, and he has a direct pipeline to the agency. Whatever they discover might immediately be transferred to the agency and, by extension, the mole. This problem is best resolved by Covert-One operating alone.”

“Dattar is the least of our problems. Let’s secure the subway from the top and let Smith do the initial reconnaissance. After that we can send in the NYPD to sweep the area and flush any suspects,” Castilla said.

“With all due respect, I don’t think we can afford to let Dattar slip through our hands now. What if Smith’s theory is wrong? Then we’ll be back to square one, and Dattar will be long gone. We need to buy Smith some time to check it out.”

Castilla paused and again Klein let him consider all the angles.

“Okay. We’ll do it your way. Give me worst-case scenario.”

Klein inhaled. “Assuming that Russell and Smith don’t find the source and stop it?”

“Yes.”

“The Shewanella multiplies rapidly and begins to communicate through the nanowires feeding the virus upward. It travels along the electrical current through to the grid and outward. To everywhere the grid touches, disseminating the virus throughout the New York City region. Then nature takes its normal course and everyone who is infected becomes a carrier. The New York subway has over five hundred miles of track and five million riders each day on a weekday. Once the bacteria starts pumping the virus into the air, those five million will be exposed.”

“So a flu pandemic. Survival rate?”

“We believe it’s a mutation of H5N1 or avian flu. Regular avian flu has a fifty percent death rate. This one kills ninety-seven percent. No treatment or cure.”

Castilla was up and pacing. Klein could sympathize with his agitation. It was all Klein could do to deliver the scenario in a calm voice.

“How about turning off the third rail at the affected station? Can the MTA shut down in sections? Then the bacteria will lose its transportation source.”

“Yes, the rail control center can shut down individual sections of track, and that will slow the progress, definitely, but the bacteria can also generate its own electricity that will be conducted through the metal rails. Given enough time, it will reunite with a live section.”

“How much time?”

Klein shook his head. “I’ve heard it can reproduce every forty minutes. How far down the track can it get in that time without an outside source of electricity? I don’t know. And there is the additional problem that we may have the wrong station.”

“Or the wrong theory entirely,” Castilla said.

“Agreed. This theory could be wrong. But if it’s right, the most effective way to stop the bacteria is to shut down the entire subway system.”

Castilla stopped pacing. “That’s a massive undertaking. Not pulling the plug, mind you, but ensuring that after you do, thousands of people on every line remain safely inside the trains. Plus, if I make such a drastic call, it’s likely that someone in the NYPD is going to learn of it. If they do, then that information will be shuttled to the mole, and Smith is at risk and Dattar takes off.”

“I thought of that as well. NYPD often deals with the rail control center,” Klein said.

“I think we roll the dice and shut down the affected station. It’s an occurrence that won’t raise too many eyebrows, and we’ll keep it short enough to ensure that the riders stay put, and long enough for Smith to determine whether his theory is solid.”

Klein nodded. “Agreed.”

“I’ll give Smith half an hour. That enough time for him to make his way through the station with the malfunction?”

“I think so. And at this time of night there’s a fifteen- to twenty-minute headway between trains, which should buy him a bit more if we time the shutdown right. Can you black out the area around the suspected subway station? Target a small section on either side? Maybe just the electric substation that handles the neighborhoods in question?”

Castilla thought a moment. “Probably, but why?”

“Two reasons. The signals work on an AC circuit separate from the track, and Smith wants it dark in there. Also, some stations have cameras. Fifty percent don’t work anyway, but I’ve made inquiries and can’t get a straight answer on whether those at the affected stations are functioning. I don’t want one catching Smith and Russell on the job. Another chance that a cop could get ideas and interfere.”

“Done. And if they find that it’s already spread? What then? Tell everyone to turn off their lights? Shut down every appliance? At least then they won’t be drawing the stuff into their homes, and it can buy us some time to address how to destroy the bacteria.”

“Even if we could ensure one hundred percent compliance, there would be the televisions to consider,” Klein said.

Castilla resumed pacing and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Your television is never really off. The power switch just makes it appear so.”

Castilla rubbed his forehead. “Okay, total blackout. We shut down New York City. No power whatsoever.”

Klein nodded. “Yes, that’s what I keep coming back to. The bacteria can double every forty minutes under ideal conditions, but destroying just that should be manageable if Smith gets there in time.”

Castilla sat down. “So we’ll start slow. First, shut down a section. Half hour maximum. Give Smith some time to reconnoiter at the affected station. He finds it, fixes it, we’re done. He doesn’t, we shut down the entire city. What will he need to eliminate it? Bleach? Alcohol wash?”

Klein inhaled again. And Castilla put up both hands.

“Whenever you do that, I know you’re preparing to give me more bad news.”

“I’m sorry, but I am. Shewanella can form a biofilm. One of a few found in nature. It can’t be killed with any substance. Even bleach won’t get to it. Heat will initially kill the individual bacteria, but once it’s formed the biofilm, it will be immune. It needs to be scraped away manually. So now you see the problem. If it’s allowed to spread, there’s no way we can conceivably scrape over five hundred miles of track effectively.”

Castilla headed to a phone. “I’m making the call now.”