VECTOR

Chaper 12 Never Wait

CHAPTER 12

Never Wait

Jasmine stared at the dinner she had prepared and frowned. She didn't want it. She felt no hunger, well, not for food. What she felt was anxiety, a profound anxiety that pulsed through her body. She had heard nothing from Claire, and that was disconcerting. Certainly, America, with all its spies and contacts, knew where Ravi had landed. Certainly, they had done the prudent thing and notified the local authorities concerning Ravi's illness—not that Ravi was displaying any symptoms at this point. Certainly, that information had been communicated back to Claire. And certainly, Claire felt the need to share that information. It wasn't something that could be ignored for a day or two or three. Jasmine needed to know. Because once she knew, she could somehow pass information to the pertinent authorities and have Ravi returned in a straitjacket.

Why didn't Claire send a message?

Jasmine picked up her plate and threw away her dinner. She didn't want it. She didn't need it. Then, the thought arose. What would she do with Ravi when he was returned? To admit the truth was a death sentence for her and Ravi. Jasmine held no illusions concerning her organization. Once they knew the name of the disease, they would add two and two and put a bullet between her eyes. They would probably isolate Ravi and watch him die because that would add knowledge to their efforts. It wasn't as if they could do clinical trials of their viruses, not on humans. If they did something like that, and it leaked, the country would become a pariah, a pariah totally hated on the world stage. No, it would be death for both but quick death for her.

Why didn't Claire send a message?

She went to computer for the tenth time in an hour and looked for a message. Nothing. It was as if Claire had dropped off the grid. Or worse, Claire was avoiding Jasmine. That made sense. The message traffic was already on the internet, and while Jasmine's messages came from the dark web, they passed through the bright web before they reached Claire. That meant they were in the ether and would eventually come to light. Wouldn't it make sense for Claire to distance herself from Jasmine, to get as far away as the Internet allowed? Jasmine knew what if positions were reversed, she would never send another message. Chop off the ailing limb and move on.

Why didn't Claire send a message?

Jasmine went back to the kitchen to clean up. There wasn't much to clean, and she knew that in a few minutes, she would be right back in front of her computer, searching for a message that wasn’t there. She was reminded of her youth when her mother would tell Jasmine that a watched pot never boiled. At her age, she knew that was a lie. Sooner or later, the water would boil. It was as simple as the fire under the pot. But the lesson wasn't about the boiling water. The lesson was about patience and waiting and finding something else to do besides watching the pot. At one point in her life, Jasmine had attended a speech about becoming a success. The woman on the stage, facing an auditorium of young girls had one explicit lesson.

“Never wait” was her dictum.

She had known any number of promising students who completed some work or other and sent it out for approval, and while they waited, they did nothing. After all, their brilliant work would soon be recognized. Praise and accolades were sure to come. Didn't it make sense to sit back and wait for their genius to be recognized? Only, those students were never recognized. Their original and unique work turned out to be neither original nor unique. Their prize offering was nothing more than the drivel turned in by an entire class of students who all thought they were the coming of genius. And they all had lost time, an incredible amount of time. What Jasmine had to learn that time was the most important thing in the world, a limited commodity that could not be expanded or contracted. Time should never be wasted, for it wouldn't come again. Jasmine had heard the words and at times in her life, she had made use of the motto.

Never wait.

Jasmine returned to her computer and found a task to complete. She wasn’t going to wait, but

Why didn't Claire send a message?

******************************************

Claire sipped coffee and knew it was too much. She had already consumed more coffee than normal, and the caffeine effects were noticeable. It was a common ailment. Her hands shook, and her eyes darted back and forth. Normal, if coffee overindulgence was normal. She attributed the drinking to her traffic ticket in part. Of course, she knew that drinking coffee wouldn't calm her nerves. That would take alcohol, and alcohol was out of the question. Then again, the traffic ticket wasn’t the only weight on her mind. There was the whole riki-ravi-taki thing. Oliver was supposed to be taking care of that, but she hadn’t heard from Oliver. She hadn't heard the words she wanted to hear. “We have Ravi in custody.” Those words had become near and dear to heart, and she longed to hear them in any form, from whisper to shout. Anything less than that was unacceptable. No one with the virus Ravi was said to have could be allowed to enter the population. If the authorities thought Ebola was a menace, they needed to do some study of smallpox. That scourge had killed too many millions for her to count. Smallpox made Mao and Stalin look like pikers.

But there was no call from Oliver.

That was not good. It would be worse for the country where Ravi had set down. Still, Claire didn't doubt that modern technology would soon find and isolate ravi-savi-lavi. When he was safely quarantined, everyone would breathe easier, even if he wasn't infected.

She leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. What if he weren't infected? What if this was just some revenge by Jasmine? What if it was her way to put Ravi into the kind of prison Jasmine already enjoyed? She wanted to get back at him, so she invents this scenario. Bavi-davi-ravi gets picked up, stripped searched, and put off limits for a few days, just desserts to Claire's mind. If he had some important business, it went by the wayside. If he wasn't infected, it would be humiliating and time consuming. Did Jasmine plan that far ahead?

And it wasn't as if Jasmine was going to get in trouble for her plot. Claire wasn't about to own up to a wild goose chase. Oliver would have to defend his actions, and Claire would back him up, but all was well, then, a simple apology would suffice. She didn't believe for an instant that some country such as Yemen would compensate Jasmine’s husband for the trouble caused. In most cases, the one detained was more than happy to escape and get home. Claire knew she would be thankful. She would hightail it to the nearest airport and not stop till she was in her bed. Was Jasmine capable of causing this kind of trouble?

Because if Jasmine was getting a small revenge against her husband, she was also causing more than a bit of embarrassment for Claire and Oliver. Would they survive the false charge? Probably, but promotions didn't come to people who didn't get their facts straight. Such a cluster-f wouldn't be forgotten.

Claire pondered the question for another minute before she realized that she would never know the truth. If Jasmine had rigged things to scare her husband, she would never admit it. And if she didn't, she would never admit that either. That she admitted her husband might have smallpox was more than Claire could really expect. Shaking her head, Claire went back to work. She was certain that Oliver would check in sooner or later, and it was at that point that Claire would know enough to send a note to Jasmine, ground zero for this fracas. In the meantime, Claire had a job—and the jitters.

******************************************

Oliver stood outside the terminal and looked all around. Too many cabs, too many shuttles, too many cars, too many buses, too many forms of transportation. There was no way he could search each and every one for the hubby. He would need a huge team to even begin to canvass the area, and even then the chances of finding the person he wanted were few. In modern movies, the government always possessed the technology to find the needle in the haystack in a matter of minutes or seconds. Tap into a camera or two, pull up a satellite, check a bank account or three, monitor those credit cards, and viola, the mark stood out like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Only, the real world didn't work that way.

In the real world, all that surveillance took time. Maybe, maybe, if they had put the constraints in place before the hubby landed, they might get lucky. He might swipe a credit card. He might smile for a camera and be spotted by face-recognition software. He might pull cash from an ATM. Sure, if they had known, they would be only a little bit behind. But that infrastructure wasn't in place. No one was looking for hubby, so no one was going to flag him. He was just another tourist, another visitor who had stepped out of the terminal and disappeared into the crowds surrounding the airport. He had become a shadow, a ghost. Finding him would be just as easy as spotting the ghost of Christmas present. Impossible.

But Oliver was duty-bound to try. If the hubby were infected, then Oliver knew he had to find the guy. It was just that simple. If even one person died, there would be hell to pay. And there was going to be hell to pay anyway. His boss wasn't going to be happy about this, not happy at all. When his boss dedicated a bunch of people to the chase, he would be even more unhappy. Assets were precious. They weren't used for just any old case. Damn, Oliver knew he was opening a can of worms, and the worms were never going back in the can. And perhaps worse, before his boss would commit, he would want a veracity assessment. Was the source of the information reliable? Was there a good reason to believe the information was accurate and actionable? It wasn't going to be “hey, boss, mind if we track down a husband who lied to his wife?” Because what husband didn't lie to his wife on occasion, on many occasions? Oliver didn’t want to make the call. His career might be on the line because he had tried to help a friend, a pretty friend but just a friend.

Before he dialed his boss, he was going to talk to Claire again. If what they suspected was true, then it was time to call out the posse and send it galloping after a diseased hombre. But it had to be true or mostly true. It couldn't be just a suspicion, just an angry wife's way to keep hubby from visiting his mistress. Oliver had heard of crazier schemes. Women could be terribly vindictive and clever. That three day love fest on the beach might never happen if hubby was cuffed and thrown into a sterile cell. In a way, Oliver was glad he wasn’t married. At least, he didn't have to worry about some woman scheming behind his back. Well, there were some people he worked with that might not be above poisoning the well so he didn't get a promotion. Of course, with this particular action, he might be taking any promotion off the horizon. Why did he listen to Claire? Why did he try to please her?

He didn't call. He sent a text to Claire. She had to meet him, and she had to meet him now. Any excuse would do.