VECTOR

Chapter 14 FBI

CHAPTER 14

FBI

Matt Hohen showed his credentials to the guard and slipped into the puzzle palace. Thats what some FBI agents called the CIA. The puzzle palace was where the ghosts analyzed a thousand pieces of information in order to synthetize a single actionable fact. It was the place where data was pored over for days at a time. Were the data real? Or had some clever foreign service sent over fake facts? To Matt, the FBI was much cleaner, much simpler. He dealt in domestic issues for the most part. International intrigue touched him only when it landed on U.S. soil. Yet, here he was, ordered to meet a CIA something who had something that needed FBI attention. He had had these meetings in the past, and they hadn’t always lived up to the hype. He hoped this one wasn't a waste of time. He checked his suit and tie for stains before he entered the meeting room.

The meeting room was sparse. A single man sat, facing a screen that showed a man with obvious central Asian genes. To Matt, the man was typical of the region. What his face was doing on the screen seemed obvious. If the CIA was looking for this man, then he was inside the U.S. That meant that Matt and his cohorts had a job, probably some bogus task like finding a Muslim who beat his wife, like that didn’t happen every day.

“I'm Oliver,” the CIA operative said.

“Matt.”

“No doubt, you’re wondering what this is about, and it's my job to brief you. Then, I hope we can work together to find the man on the screen.”

“This is a real task, right? Not some fishing expedition for some foreign dignitary?”

“As real as it gets, I think. The problem is that we have not verified the source of the information, so we can't vouch for the authenticity.”

“You called me over for some wild goose chase?”

“In this case, the goose has the wherewithal to kill off a good percentage of the population. We think.”

While Matt had heard all sorts of conspiracy theories about plots to destroy the U.S., he had not found any of them to be plausible. He hoped the tale Oliver had to tell was something better.

“It all starts with the man on the screen,” Oliver said. “His name is Ravi, and he's from Karachi.”

Matt listened as Oliver laid out what the CIA knew and surmised. Ravi, a wife beater (as Matt had predicted), had a wife who worked with biological weapons in a hush-hush facility in Pakistan. The CIA knew of the facility and of the people who worked there. Jasmine, the wife, was a real person although the CIA had not yet interviewed her. That lack would be remedied in the next few hours. In an act of revenge, Jasmine had infected Ravi with a deadly virus. According to CIA sources, the wife meant to keep Ravi home where he would die without fanfare. Ravi had not complied with her wishes. He came to the U.S., not knowing he was deathly ill. He passed through passport and customs, and he was loose somewhere inside the country. The CIA did not believe he had traveled far, but since he was on U.S. soil, he had become the FBI's case.

“Just what does he have?” Matt asked. “Ebola? Something worse?”

“Something much worse. According to his wife, he has smallpox.”

“Smallpox? I thought that had been wiped off the face of the earth.”

“In the wild. Several countries, including ours, keep stores of the virus in case it is needed to produce vaccines.”

“Just how bad could it be?”

“Most of our population has not been vaccinated. Mortality rates might reach fifty percent.”

“You're kidding.”

“I wish I were.”

Matt thought a moment. What the CIA was dumping was not some small here's-a-bad-guy search. This had the potential to turn the country upside down.

“And you have not verified this?”

“The source in Karachi lied. She said he was infected with tuberculosis.”

“Bad enough but not smallpox.”

“Bottom line, we need to find Ravi.”

“May I assume you've alerted local police?”

“Yes, but they don't know the reason why.”

Matt stared at the face on the screen and wondered just where he was, under what rock would the FBI find him?

“You understand,” Matt said. “I'll have to run this up the flag pole before we totally commit to a balls-to-the-wall search.”

“I know, and I ask you to do it quickly. I believe he is not yet infectious, but he soon will be. Once that happens.” Oliver shrugged.

“What else do you know about Ravi? Does he have family here?”

Oliver handed over a thumb drive. “Everything we know about Ravi and his wife is here. It's not much.”

“Does Ravi know he's infected?”

Oliver shook his head. “According to my source, her plan depended on him having no idea.”

“How along has he been in country?”

“He arrived this morning. I tried to intercept him, but I was too late.”

Matt could have made a snide remark about the CIA always being a day late, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Every agency acted on yesterday's information. While they might like to use predictive models, they understood that the science hadn’t yet advanced that far. He stood and offered his hand.

“I hope this is nothing but someone's overworked imagination,” Matt said.

“Me too, but I'm afraid it's not. After we vet the wife, I'll get back to you.”

Matt left the building and worked out the order of tasks that he needed to accomplish. He would need to brief a number of people before the wheels of the FBI would begin to turn. While that process proceeded, he would need to list the sources of possible information. The airport was the logical place to start, and while he had little hope any person had noticed Ravi, Matt was reasonably sure the cameras had captured something. He was hoping they had captured something. He also hoped Ravi, not knowing he was a time bomb, would act like any other visitor to the U.S. Rent a car, book a motel room, tap into an ATM, make a reservation at a restaurant. If he did those things, Matt felt reasonably certain the FBI would find Ravi.

If he did those things.

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

Jasmine stepped out of her house, and the stranger simply appeared. For Jasmine, finding a strange woman on her doorstep was not a good sign. The woman smiled.

“Hello, Jasmine, my name is Fatima, and I wish to have a chat with you.”

“I am late for work,” Jasmine answered.

“Work will wait. Ravi, on the other hand, will not.”

Fatima was much like any other woman Jasmine knew. Fatima wore traditional clothes, clothes that could easily hide a weapon. Not that Jasmine was afraid. If Fatima wished to kill, she would have done so by now.

Jasmine opened her door. “I trust this will not take long.”

Inside the house, Fatima still smiled. “You are alone?”

Jasmine nodded. “My husband is—“

“In the United States. I know. That is why I am here.”

“Do you work for the United States or Pakistan?” Jasmine asked.

Fatima smiled. “Who I work for doesn’t matter. What matters is Ravi and the disease you may or may not have given him.”

Jasmine understood. While Claire had shared her knowledge with U.S. authorities, the authorities needed to verify what was happening. They would not launch a full-scale search effort on a rumor.

“I hate my husband,” Jasmine began. “He beats and r***s me.”

Fatima's expression did not change. Jasmine supposed that if Fatima lived in Pakistan, she knew just how brutal a marriage could be. Wives were not persons in Pakistan. They were chattel.

Jasmine outlined her grievances against Ravi, preferring not to add detail. Jasmine wanted to retain some pride. However when she reached the part of the story dealing with smallpox, she talked slower and with frightening detail. Yes, she did work with infectious organisms, but smallpox was not one she actually studied. She stole the sample from another researcher. Yes, she had devised a method to infect Ravi, and she was reasonably certain Ravi did indeed carry the virus. Her plan was laid out for Fatima to examine and evaluate.

“What is the timeline?” Fatima asked.

“Ravi is not yet infectious. That will occur tomorrow. Although he will feel poorly today, he should become dangerous late tomorrow. At that point, he must be handled very carefully.”

“He told you he was going to Rome?”

“Yes.” Jasmine expanded the story to include how Ravi had hidden his real destination. When he didn't appear in Rome, she was surprised. Jasmine hoped that Fatima believed the story. If Fatima thought Jasmine had purposefully misled the Americans, Jasmine's life was not secure.

“Does Ravi have relatives in America?”

“Not that I know of,” Jasmine answered. “Neither do I.”

“Why would he lie about where he was going?”

“He has a mistress, which is not surprising. Perhaps he was taking her for a holiday.”

“As far as we know, he traveled alone. And he used his real passport. Is there another reason to visit the states?”

Jasmine thought a moment before she shook her head. “I do not know all of his business dealings. Perhaps he needed to do something there. I know he has business in Europe.”

“Tell me about the woman you emailed with this information.”

Jasmine hesitated. She did not wish to cause trouble for Claire, but then, Jasmine was reasonably certain Claire was already under scrutiny. The person who brought the message would be the first suspect.

“I met Claire in Paris,” Jasmine began. “We became friends.”

Jasmine outlined her time in Paris, including her time with Jacques. There was no reason to hide it, and it would lend credence to her wish to be rid of Ravi. Jasmine stepped through the correspondence she had with Claire, right down to the misleading messages about tuberculosis.

“And you did that why?” Fatima asked.

“I did not wish to alarm the Italians. I wished only that they intercept Ravi and send him back to Pakistan where I could oversee his…decline. I was trying to protect all involved.”

“Is there anything else you wish to tell me?” Fatima asked.

“I know that what I sought to do is wrong, and I am prepared to accept what punishment must come. However, I never wished harm to other people. You must believe that. I was out to rid myself of an abusive husband, not to create a disease vector that could devastate a population.”

Fatima smiled and stood. “Thank you for your time.”

“Wait,” Jasmine said. “What should I do now?”

“I recommend coming up with a solid excuse for your late arrival at work. Then, I think it would be best if you did nothing out of the ordinary. If what you told me is true, then, I don't believe we will take action. If you lied…” Fatima shrugged.

After Fatima left, Jasmine stopped for a moment. She had told the truth, but she knew as well as anyone that telling the truth would not be enough. If Americans died, then she would be retribution. As it was, she suspected that she was already a target. The U.S. was not known to overlook direct attacks. They had proven that over and over again.

What do to?

She knew that she had to go to work. Fatima or someone like her was no doubt watching, and if Jasmine went to the airport, it would be a telltale sign. She wanted to run. She wanted to fly to Paris and fall into Jacques’ arms. She wanted to be held and stroked and assured that all would be well. She wanted the moon. That was what Ravi would have told her. She wanted the moon, the stars, and all the planets. She might as well have said she wanted all the wealth of the world. As she left the house, she suddenly knew she would never see Paris again. She would never feel Jacques’ strength. She was already dead. She was a walking cadaver. If the Americans didn’t kill her, the Pakistanis would.

The deadness in her head slowed her steps as she left the house.