We All Fall Down (11 page)

CHAPTER 23

I got up at a little after nine, found Maggie’s leash, and took a walk. A dark seal of clouds pressed in off the lake, bottling up the city in a jar of shiny glass. I leashed the pup outside Intelligentsia, grabbed a coffee, and pulled out the binder Ellen Brazile had given me on CDA.

The first few chapters laid out the basics of black biology. I flipped to the middle and found a section called “Smart Clothing.” As an offshoot to their research, CDA had developed something called nanofibers—essentially carbon nanotube molecules woven into the fabric of clothing. According to the binder, nanofibers added less than an ounce of weight to any garment and rendered it virtually bulletproof. The fibers also monitored the wearer’s vital signs and were capable of holding and releasing small amounts of stimulants and antibiotics directly into the bloodstream. For a soldier freshly shot on the battlefield, pretty handy.

I took a sip of coffee and turned the page. The next chapter talked about piezoelectric nanofibers capable of storing kinetic energy generated by the human body. When woven into a shirt or pair of pants, they turned the garment into a portable battery pack, charging up a cell phone, radio, PDA—anything you might carry in your pocket.

I thought that was pretty cool as well. I also thought the word “piezoelectric” gave me a headache. So I put the binder away, and watched a good-looking woman put cream and sugar in her coffee. Then I pulled out my cell—noting how pedestrian my pockets suddenly seemed—and dialed Rita Alvarez’s number.

“Michael?”

“Rita. How are you?”

“I’m fine. What’s up?”

“You tell me.”

She didn’t respond.

“You talk to your boyfriend?”

“I talk to him all the time.”

“You talk to him about last night? About the address you gave me?”

“You know I did, Michael. I had no choice.”

“Did you know Lee was peddling dope?”

“Christ, no. All I knew about Lee was what I told you. He was acting as a middleman on the medical supply contracts.”

“Why was Lee talking to you?”

“He was
thinking
about talking. Seemed to me like he might have a score to settle with someone, but I couldn’t say for sure. I told him I’d keep his name out of any story.”

“Who do you think killed him?” I said.

“You really need to ask?”

“The Fours?”

“If he was selling dope, I’d say that’s a good bet.”

“Nothing to do with your story?”

“I doubt it.” A pause. “I know this sounds selfish, but did you find anything that might help on that?”

“On your story?”

“Yes.” Her voice was soaked in guilt, which made it that much easier to forget I hadn’t told her about the cellar full of body bags.

“Lee was dead when I got there, Rita. Sorry. By the way, you and Vince need to start talking to each other about your work.”

“Thanks, Michael.”

“No problem.” I looked up as the front door to Intelligentsia creaked open. Another good-looking woman walked in. This one, I knew.

“Rita, I need to call you back.”

“Why? What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it about my story?”

“Gotta go, Rita.”

“Not a word to anyone downtown.”

“Good-bye, Rita.”

“Michael.”

“Good-bye.”

I clicked off. Rachel Swenson slipped into the seat beside me.

“I went by your place,” she said, “but there was no answer. Saw Mags tied up out front.”

We both looked out the front window. Maggie was huddled against the side of the building, tail sucked between her legs.

“She’s scared of the weather,” I said. Rachel nodded and made a soft sound in her throat. The pup was our common ground. Our surrogate child. The only safe patch in the shifting terrain of a relationship.

“I thought you’d be in court today,” I said, my voice easing.

“I had an early morning conference call.”

“You want a coffee?”

“We need to talk.”

“What is it?”

Rachel glanced around the shop. It was mostly empty, but her voice dropped anyway. “Late last night, Homeland requested an ex parte order allowing them to take control of the National Guard in the event of a health emergency on Chicago’s West Side.” A pause. “This morning, they withdrew it.”

“And you think I know something about this?”

“I already know about the lightbulbs. I know about the subway. And I know you got called into something yesterday. Something you thought might be heavy.”

A double burst of lightning split the sky into shards of purple and white. Maggie lay down on the pavement, curling herself into a tight ball and tucking her nose between her paws. She kept one eye fixed on us.

“We’d better get her,” Rachel said.

“In a minute. You ever heard of CDA Labs?”

“What does CDA have to do with the government’s petition?”

“You’ve heard of them?”

“I know who they are, yes.”

“How?”

“I didn’t come here to answer your questions, Michael.”

“It’s important.”

“Isn’t it always?” Her voice mocked my own, and, for a moment, I saw her, clothes torn, face bruised, tied up in an abandoned Cabrini-Green high-rise, wondering if the shotgun pointed her way was loaded. Then there was nothing, save the creaking wreckage of our relationship and the knowledge there was little I could do to fix it.

“The government withdrew its petition, Rach. If there was a problem, it’s been taken care of.”

“Not necessarily.”

“What does that mean?”

She folded her hands together, stared at her crossed thumbs, and drew a cleansing breath.

“Five years ago, George W. issued an executive order giving the feds specific power over the Guard in the case of a national emergency. From what I understand, one of the geniuses in Justice realized this morning they could mobilize in Chicago without any action from the courts.”

“Can they?”

“There might be some constitutional issues, but probably.”

My phone rattled on the table. I held up a finger and checked the caller ID. “I gotta take this.”

I stepped outside and gentled Maggie as I picked up the call. Molly Carrolton didn’t bother with the formalities.

“Where are you?” she said.

“Just got some coffee. Why?”

“We need you back at CDA.”

“What’s going on?”

“Things are escalating.”

The first volley of thunder cracked and rolled overhead. The pup shivered under my hand. Inside the shop, Rachel had gotten herself a cup of tea. She was staring at me through the glass as she added milk and sugar.

“Where’s Ellen?” I said.

Silence.

“Molly?”

“Get down here. Before they come get you.”

“Who are ‘they’?” I said, but the line was dead.

I flipped the phone shut as Rachel walked out of the coffee shop.

“I’ve gotta go,” I said.

“Your case?”

“One of them. Listen, I’d like to talk about this. Let me give you a call.”

“So there is a connection to what you’re doing?”

“Let me call you later. We can grab dinner or something.”

She took a sip of her tea. “You’re not going to be able to play them, Michael.”

“Play who?”

“Not like you do everyone else.”

“Rach  … ”

“It just won’t work. Not with them.”

“Dinner, tonight. I’ll call you.”

Rachel scratched Maggie behind the ears and left me standing on the sidewalk. As I arrived back at my apartment, the first spit of rain began to fall.

CHAPTER 24

CDA’s lobby was full of three men in dark suits and sunglasses. They didn’t look very friendly, so I took the road less traveled. Also known as the freight elevator. It didn’t make a damn bit of difference.

“This way, Mr. Kelly.”

Two more guys wearing dark suits and shades were waiting on the third floor. They led me down the same blank corridors, past the lab where I had gotten my first taste of black biology, and into yet another conference room.

“They’ll be right with you.”

The suits left before I could ask who “they” were, or why “they” all wore sunglasses during a thunderstorm in March. Three minutes later, the door opened again. It was Molly.

“Sorry, Michael.”

“Not a problem. When did the Men in Black show up?”

She tried to smile, but her features wouldn’t cooperate.

“What’s going on?” I said.

“Come with me.”

She walked me down the hall and back into the lab. I didn’t see any of the government types along the way. In fact, I didn’t see a soul.

“Everyone go out for a liquid lunch?”

“They’re over at our level-four facility.”

I skimmed her eyes and saw dark shapes, swimming fast just beneath the surface. ”What’s going on, Molly?”

“We might have a release.” Her voice caught on the words, but they tumbled out anyway.

“Of a weapon?”

She nodded and glanced at the door.

“Are they coming back here?” I said.

“Pretty soon. We’ve been down at Cook all morning. They decided to take it back here for a conference call with Washington.”

“Then you better hurry.”

Molly took a breath. “Ellen told me she saw you last night.”

“What did the blood turn up?”

“It’s still not entirely clear. Cook County morgue picked up two bodies yesterday. Homeless men. Both were originally thought to be dead of natural causes. They get a lot of that in the winter.”

“It’s not that cold.”

“Yeah, well, an orderly didn’t like the look of one of these guys. So he called us. Blood work finally came back early this morning as definitive for some sort of anthrax exposure.”

“Just the one?”

“The other was asphyxiated, but they’d both been exposed.”

“Where were they found?”

“About two blocks from the Clinton entrance to the Blue Line. The thinking is they might have been sleeping in the subway. And then there’s the cop you mentioned to Ellen  … ”

“Donnie Quin?”

“His blood came back positive as well. How did you know to have him tested?”

“He was on the West Side yesterday. And he was dead. Just a hunch, really.”

“Yeah, well, it turns out Quin found the bodies of our two homeless men and called them in. We’re still putting together the rest of the timeline, but it looks like the Blue Line might be a point of origin.”

“Your tests said the anthrax we found was irradiated. Harmless.”

“It was.”

“So?”

“The incubation period for weaponized anthrax is five to seven days. This thing apparently kills in a matter of hours. And it appears it might be transmissible from person to person.”

“So it’s not good old weaponized anthrax.”

“It might be something more.”

“How much more?”

“Ellen’s still working on the blood. But people are getting scared.”

“Where’s Danielson?”

“That’s what we’d like you to find out.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Ellen and me. And the mayor.”

“The mayor. Of course, the mayor.”

“We spoke an hour ago. He’s concerned, Michael.”

“I bet he is. Danielson put you all in the subway yesterday morning, and now he’s disappeared. You’re worried he set you up.”

“You were there as well.”

“You gonna push on me now?”

Molly’s eyes ran away and hid. She twisted her hands in a bunch.

“Why don’t I just leave town?” I said. “Let you track him down yourself?”

“Ellen said  … ”

“What did Ellen say?”

“We can’t just leave.”

“Why not?”

“First off, as of this morning we’re no longer in charge. In fact, we feel like prisoners in our own lab.”

“Have you tried to leave?”

“I get the feeling it would be better if we didn’t. Especially Ellen.”

“Why did you bring me in?”

“Ellen wanted one of us to have a face-to-face with you.”

“See if I was worth trusting?”

“Homeland was going to pick you up anyway. They want to control everything until they’re ready to go public.”

“Yeah, well, now I’m stuck here.”

“Not necessarily.”

A radio squawked in the hall, followed by the low murmur of voices.

“Come on.” Molly walked me into a smaller prep area and pointed to a door. “That’s a fire exit. If you go down two floors, it lets you out into a paper-processing plant.”

“The envelope factory?”

“Yes.” She held up a couple of keys. “One of these should get you into their facility. They have an internal loading dock on the ground floor.”

“When are they going public on the release?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, things are starting to escalate. One of us will call when we get a chance.”

The sounds from the hall were closer now.

“Get going.”

I moved toward the fire exit just as the handle turned and the door opened. A compact man with hair the color of burnt straw stood in the stairwell. He wore a suit made of brown tweed and talked into a Bluetooth mike slung around his ear.

“I got them. Meet you downstairs.”

He walked us back into the main lab and pointed toward the corridor. “Molly, why don’t you give us a minute?”

She left without a look back. The small man pulled out a couple of chairs. We both sat.

“And you are?” I said.

“James Doll, Homeland Security.”

Doll had a face worthy of his name. Eyes like glass, rouged cheeks, and a shiny round chin. His features were screwed on tight to his face, and I swore his lips moved only when he blinked.

“Where’s Danielson?” I said.

Doll stood up. He wore shoes with wooden soles that clicked on the lab’s floor when he walked. Doll stopped in front of a monitor with a screen saver of Magilla Gorilla on a tricycle. He studied Magilla for a moment and, apparently, got all he could out of it. Then he turned back to me.

“I’ve heard about you, Mr. Kelly.”

“Where’s Danielson?”

“Funny. That’s what we want to ask you.”

“You have some sort of pathogen release in the city.”

“We’re aware of the situation.”

“Then you’re aware that what you do in the next hour or so will determine whether a lot of people die. Or just a few.”

“A task force has already been assembled and is discussing options.”

“I need to talk to them.”

Doll raised his right eyebrow and leaked out a smile. “Not a chance.”

“I can help you.”

“How?”

“I don’t think the release had anything to do with Danielson.”

“No?”

“I think he got played.”

“By whom?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“And you want us to let you run around and dig up all the answers?”

Doll waited. I didn’t say a word.

“I know. Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?” Doll sat down again and patted a small yellow mustache smooth. “Our priority, Mr. Kelly, is twofold. Identify the pathogen, if there is one. And contain it. Dr. Brazile and her people will focus on the first task. It’s my job to take care of the second.”

“How?”

“We’ve already identified sections of the West Side and Oak Park. People will be told to stay in their homes. Target areas will be isolated until the threat is brought under control.”

“Quarantine?”

Doll smiled. His teeth matched the mustache. “I like to think of it as a really bad snow emergency. As for you, quarantine is the perfect way to describe what we have planned  … ”

A woman’s scream, thin and high, tore through the corridors. It was a sound I’d heard before—broken, ragged nails of sorrow, digging furrows in flesh, willing anything to make it not so. Footsteps hammered down the corridor outside the lab. Doll hesitated for a moment, then ran toward the pain. Like most humans, he just couldn’t resist. I took out the key Molly had given me and headed in the opposite direction. Toward the fire exit, the stairs, and the streets.