The Panic Zone

34

Benghazi, Libya

Time was ticking down on Dr. Gretchen Sutsoff.

After launching her experiment against the cruise ship passenger, she flew to Libya to confront the angry leaders of her inner group.

The secret meeting was at the new National General People’s University. Drake Stinson had arranged it with the help of Professor Ibrahim Jehaimi, one of her inner circle. Jehaimi had worked with Sutsoff on some sensitive projects while he’d studied in the United States. Since then, he’d remained a believer in her cause.

The university’s campus featured a vast palm-lined water mall that was deserted today, for Jehaimi had scheduled the meeting on Saturday evening when few students were present. Stinson’s private security teams were positioned throughout the building. The meeting took place in a room within the engineering department where Sutsoff sat patiently at a boardroom table.

As Stinson and Jehaimi ushered the members of her inner circle to their seats, Sutsoff surveyed their faces: General Dimitri, who once led the corrupt intelligence agency of a former Soviet Republic; then Goran, the unshaven man in torn jeans, who operated a global human trafficking network out of Istanbul. There was Reich, the man in the tailored suit who headed a web of criminal corporations out of Zurich; and Downey, the well-built man who was an international arms dealer from Newark.

“You know, Doctor-” Goran, the trafficker, scratched his whiskers then studied his fingertips “-there are people who want you dead for failing to deliver on your promises.”

“Such a shortsighted view,” Sutsoff said. “It will guarantee our failure when all I require is a little more time to ensure our success.”

She put up with this unholy alliance because each member provided resources she needed for her work.

“How much time before we see results?” Reich asked.

“Soon.”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” Downey said.

“We’ve been pouring money into your secret tests that we know nothing about. When are we going to see a return?” Reich asked.

“Stinson told you of security breaches in Brazil, Dar es Salaam and other places,” General Dimitri said.

“It’s your job to take care of them,” Sutsoff said.

“We have, but the longer this takes, the greater our vulnerability.”

Goran the trafficker scowled at Sutsoff. “I don’t like what I’m hearing, Doctor. My people don’t like it. We want results now!”

“I’ve told you, the prototype’s been launched,” she said. “Watch for news reports. Watch how they’ll scramble. Every indication points to a successful outcome. All that remains is for me to obtain the key component to strengthen our formula, then initiate the last stages to activation. I leave tomorrow to personally oversee the final part of the operation.”

“You haven’t told us what the ultimate target is,” the general said.

“The Human World Conference in New York City.”

“That’s just over a week away. Will you be ready?” Downey asked.

“Yes,” Sutsoff said. “That’s when E.D. will demonstrate its power to reshape human destiny. The return on your investment will exceed anything you could ever imagine.”

Goran smiled.

“Now, Drake, if you will.” Sutsoff nodded and Stinson began removing the cork from a dark bottle and pouring its contents into six glasses. “My apologies to our host for violating local custom with this wine, but I picked up a lovely red in Paris and I believe we must toast destiny.”

Jehaimi checked his cell phone then excused himself from the room, making Sutsoff curious as to why he was leaving just as all the men joined her in raising their glasses. Each of them drank; however, Sutsoff’s glass held wine from a different bottle.

As each of the men swallowed his wine, Sutsoff smiled.

“Now, if you’ll allow me to say good evening, I’d like to head back to my hotel. I have an early flight.”

Sutsoff had started down the corridor but was halted by the sound of footfalls of several people approaching. It appeared to be an entourage. Jehaimi was among them, walking beside a large man in a white suit. “Doctor,” Jehaimi said, “allow me to introduce Shokri Kusa, senior science advisor to the colonel, he flew up from Tripoli.”

“I was in Surt, actually.” Kusa’s bored eyes fell on her. “Jehaimi speaks highly of you.” Sutsoff had been promised privacy. She shot Jehaimi a look of betrayal as Kusa continued. “I’ve been on the phone to the colonel telling him about your research. He’d like to meet you and invites you to be his dinner guest in Surt tomorrow.”

Sutsoff stretched her neck to see something behind Kusa, beyond his entourage. Her attention was drawn to a man in his late twenties wearing a wrinkled navy suit. He had his eyes fixed on them from far across the hall, watching as Stinson and the others exited the meeting room to join them. The man in the suit aimed something at them, then hurried off.

“Sorry, that man there-” Sutsoff said “-he took our picture!” Kusa, Jehaimi and Stinson looked to where she was pointing. “The young man in the blue suit heading down the hall! Ibrahim, do you see him?”

Jehaimi shouted something to two university security guards among the entourage who spoke into their walkie-talkies.

“Drake,” Sutsoff said into his ear, “do something!”

“I’m on it. We’ve got our people here.” Stinson fished into his pocket for his cell phone. “Clay? Yes, did you see that? White male, late twenties, dark blue suit. He was headed to the west doors.”

“Excuse me, everyone, but I must leave,” Sutsoff said. “I have an early flight in the morning. Ibrahim, thank you. Mr. Kusa, please pass my regrets to the colonel. I have to decline the honor. I have pressing matters I must take care of. Ibrahim, can you show me another exit and have my driver meet me there now?”

“By all means. I don’t know how this happened.”

Sutsoff leaned to Stinson’s ear.

“Find that fucker and deal with him, Drake.”