On the fourth day, Snowfeather wearily opened the door to her hotel room, having spent the entire day in public appearances. She resolved to book a flight to Seattle before Berker and the Sisters could book yet another appearance for her.
——
Across the country, Gabriel Standing Bear was disembarking at Sea-Tac International, having arrived for a quick, pre-vote meeting with Dr. John Owen, Senator Thurston Smith and Washington Senator Lance McKernon in Edge Medical’s downtown offices. The historic ratification vote on the Earth Restoration Treaty would proceed in three days.
Gabriel’s friend and colleague, Senator Lance McKernon, was still sitting alone at his desk in downtown Seattle. It was 6:45 P.M. and getting late for that strategy meeting at Edge Medical. Lance was bone tired. The biggest vote of his career was just two days away and he was on the minority side. And it would be dramatically close as a Super Bowl in overtime.
Lines had begun to crease his movie-star handsome black face. Gray was rapidly spreading from his temples. Maturity sucks, Lance mused. He began to carefully fill his briefcase with the essential papers. Damn. Those college football injuries still hurt…every last one of them.
McKernon swallowed four ibuprofen, washing down the analgesic with a sip of scotch from a small flask he kept in his desk drawer.
He scooped all the papers from his desktop and dropped them into the case. He snapped it shut and rubbed his eyes. His flight back to DC from Sea-Tac was scheduled to depart at midnight, leaving time for the strategy meeting with Gabriel and Senator Smith at Dr. Owen’s office. He knew that the meeting was important but he desperately, desperately wanted to be home with his family.
“Line two.” The voice came from the speaker on his desk.
“Who is it, Jean?”
“It’s Ms. Berker of the Environmental Opinion Research.”
“Christ. Third call?”
“Fourth.”
Another sigh. “Put her on.”
“Senator, we would like just an hour of your time to discuss the Treaty vote.”
“I don’t have an hour. I don’t have a minute. But I do have a critical meeting to attend and a plane to catch, Ms. Berker. And you know my position on that vote very well.”
“We think your misgivings are unnecessary. Certainly you are not refusing to hear us out?”
“Ms. Berker, I have studied every version of the Earth Restoration Treaty carefully. I have declared my position, after due consideration. This Treaty, if ratified, will end the authority of Congress—”
“Which Congress has misused—”
“And hand it over to a non-elected Commission—”
“Dedicated to saving the earth.”
“Dedicated to ruining the economy. This is insanity, Ms. Berker. Give me one reason I should spend four more minutes listening to you.”
“Your son.”
“WHAT?”
There was a long silence, and a small, familiar voice came on the line.
“Dad? Dad? Are you there? Please come get me! I’m still okay…” Johnny! Good God.
“Thank you, dear.” It was Berker’s voice, again. “Take him into the other room—now!” A cold, dead silence followed. Finally, Berker’s calm voice: “Senator, your son will be safe with us for one hour…until we have our little meeting with you. At the Waterfront Hotel, room 205. We just want a little of your time.”
“This is kidnapping.”
“This is invitation, Senator. We’ll see you very soon.” Click.
Lance McKernon stared at nothing. Then he looked at his watch. 6:05 P.M. His hands were shaking as he speed-dialed his wife. “Where is Johnny?”
“He isn’t home from school. Isn’t he with you?”
“No, he isn’t.”
Ice. It spread from his heart to his chest, then his arms. Senator Lance McKernon stood slowly.
“Wait a few minutes. I’ll call right back.” He let the phone fall to the desk. “Jean,” he shouted. “I need a cab. Now.”
——
While McKernon was rushing to the Waterfront Hotel and Gabriel was rushing from Sea-Tac to the meeting at the offices of Edge Medical, John Owen was about to be distracted by another element of the ongoing personnel crisis involving the death of his chief scientist, Dr. Christoph Fischer.
In Bellevue, Washington at 7:04 P.M., Dr. Elisabeth Owen-Larson repositioned her phone, her father, Dr. John Owen, having finally answered a call.
“Sorry. Been a real bust, Elisabeth. What’s up?” he said.
Elisabeth looked at her toes, wiggling near the fire. Her legs were almost invisible below the formidable bulge housing her unborn baby. A half-eaten pizza languished on the coffee table next to an open novel. “Dad, I do not think Christoph was mugged.”
“I really don’t have time, sweetie… Not mugged?”
“Christoph Fischer, your chief scientist, the man whose cure almost saved Mom, was definitely not mugged. He was obviously murdered, Dad. You haven’t has a chance to look at the coroner’s final report I put on your desk this morning.”
“That has very scary implications. But I’m pressed. We are in an emergency situation here. Sorry, gotta get off I have to go for now. Love you.” Silence.
“Damn.” Elisabeth was sitting in front of a tall stone fireplace in her own home in Bellevue, Washington, not far from her father’s home. Her husband Josh was working at the Vector plant. Cradling the phone against her neck, she realized that John had disconnected her. She knew her dad was involved in politics tonight and was hurrying to his Edge Medical offices in downtown Seattle.
She redialed and got her father’s message. After the beep, she left a message. “This is important, Dad. Follow this thought. This Treaty vote, all the attention directed at you in the press. Dad, something in all this just feels very wrong. Call it a premonition, but if you get this, please, please increase your security. Tonight, I was looking for my prescription list and I stumbled on an unopened envelope with Coroner’s report of Christoph’s death. Did you know that he still had cash on his body; and he was taken a good distance away from the office before he was killed? The sedative found in his blood was an uncommon one. The coroner missed that. It is not typically prescribed. Dad, spies use that stuff. It is much too sophisticated for a common street thug. If this was an assassination, think about what that might mean. Who would want to kill Christoph, a harmless scientist working to save lives? …And why?” The fire crackled while rain spattered gently on the skylight. “Second question while you’re pondering that one. Is anyone else at risk? Are you at risk? Why pick on a pharmaceutical maker. You save lives. You follow the logic wherever it leads, just like you taught me. And that leaves just one thing.” Elisabeth paused, suddenly chilled. “My God, Dad, what if someone is on the side of the germs? Please, please call. I love you.”
Then Elisabeth called her husband at work, he was at Vector’s data center in South Seattle. “We need you home,” she said.
“Hi, sweets,” Josh said. “How’s little Josh coming?”
“Now you know we haven’t peeked. We might be having a girl. Little Josh or Elisabeth is not coming fast enough, partner. She or he is kicking and I am ready to get on with it. So very ready. When are you coming home, big guy?”
“I need to stop by the Vector plant for five minutes; they are working three shifts because of the India emergency. Then home. Promise. An hour tops. What can I bring?”
“Just that warm body of yours. I want to see the man I married at least once before he becomes a dad.”
“Message received.”