The Happy War

Prologue

PROLOGUE

She pushed the elevator button and stared at the ominous text. “Hurry, there’s something wrong.” Tom Rainer had sent it an hour ago. During that time, she had been bogged down, listening to a tedious analytical report ordered for a real estate transfer in North Virginia. Under the white lab coat, Dr. Jackie Bloomfield wore a gray pantsuit and fashionable red pumps. The stylish new shoes squeezed her toes. The lined, designer outfit started out comfortable, but now, bordered on sweltering hot. Maybe the message made her nervous.

Inside, the sleek, modern building of the New England Municipal Water Testing headquarters, everything appeared normal. Men and women in lab coats tested water for hardness, lead, copper and contaminants. Under bright florescent lights, scientists poured water into beakers, checking for unusual particulates under a microscope. Small plastic containers with tiny glass vials cluttered the countertops. Stainless laboratory freezers lined the pale blue walls.

“There you are,” said an agitated Tom. A few people turned, briefly greeting the respected doctor, but they turned back to the immediate chores they were working on. Pointing towards the back of the lab, Tom indicated she should follow. As the Environmental Operations specialist, he oversaw the wastewater treatment for over thirty-five water testing plants in several states. Always serious, Jackie didn’t like the look on his face. She especially didn’t care for his quick, long steps.

“What? Whatever it is, you should lighten up. It’s 2019, way past Y2K and certainly not, the end of the world.” She wanted to smile at him, but the pointy-toed pumps were bringing tears to her eyes. Once they reached the back, he presented his microscope with open palms, the way a host would seat someone at a luxurious restaurant; quietly, and with an air of superiority.

“When titrating and checking for scaling, this showed up. It doesn’t seem that bad, except this is from the water that goes through D.C. All the samples look like this.”

Dr. Bloomfield put her eyes on the microscope and tilted her head to get a better view. “Hmm,” she responded, staying bent over the instrument while trying to hide a smile. “This is the water going toward the White House?”

“Yes, Doctor. It’s not normal. We’ve tested it over and over, several times.”

She stood to face him. “Not much we can do about those enzymes. Rest assured it’s not lethal. I say we keep quiet, and hope it dissipates naturally.” A tear caused by her tight-fitting shoes rolled down a cheek. Tom turned around for a box of tissues, and while he did, he surveyed the room to make sure no one had listened to their conversation.

“Here, how about a tissue? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Oh, it’s not that,” she replied, tugging two sheets of the soft paper from the box. “I’m sure the President doesn’t drink tap water. Everything will be fine.”

“But….”

“Tom don’t worry about it. I’d say the marina needs some major testing. Have your team concentrate on that for now, and leave this to me.” Nature will take its course. Imagining the public turmoil something like this would bring upon the water district made her want to forget she ever saw those samples. Right now, the shoes were killing her, and she expected a call from the Bagram Air Base. “I have to go; my boy is going to call tonight.”