Thaba Tshwane, Pretoria, South Africa
November 12, 11:15 A.M.
Upon arriving unheralded in Illing’s helicopter, Major Breen had immediately gone to the refueled C-21 that was still waiting to take them home.
Williams gave Illing all his South African money for fuel, which the pilot gratefully accepted.
“I’ll take my wife to dinner with this,” he said gratefully. “In Paris.”
Williams smiled as he went to join Breen. En route, he had received a text from Lieutenant Lee stating that their mission had been accomplished and that they were returning to Pretoria with “the man who made this all necessary.”
While the two men waited, Williams contacted General Krummeck. He put the man on speaker so Breen could hear.
“Congratulations. I heard you had arrived,” the general said.
“Mr. Illing was an able pilot. You should use him again.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about his talents. The police aren’t sure whether to give him a legal citation or a medal.”
“I think he’d be happy with both. So you’ve heard from East London, then?”
“Just. We were discussing Katinka Kettle. It seems she was apprehended by ‘two of my people,’ as they put it.”
“A convenient stopgap. What do they intend to do with her?”
“That depends. They’re waiting for a court-appointed barrister to take her confession.”
“Consider interceding,” Williams urged. “She was not an accomplice and appears to genuinely regret what her employer did.”
“There is a sense that she intended to attack the police station,” Krummeck remarked.
“She could have done so, if that was her true intent. She had time to open and throw the container. And keep in mind, General. She had, not more than thirty or so minutes before, been subjected to a deadly barrage by the STF. I’ve seen enough combat to know the effect that has on seasoned warriors. A young gemologist is something else again.”
“True,” Krummeck agreed. “And I would be willing to help in light of the service your people provided here and at Prince Edward. I understand they are going to return on a SAN helicopter.”
“Along with Dr. Raeburn, whom I believe you know well,” Williams said. “I understand this bacteria was his work? Team work?”
Breen frowned at that.
“Sir,” the general said, “if it is your intent to try and intimidate me while you are still on South African soil—”
“You wrong me, General. Dr. Raeburn appears to know more about this bacteria than anyone. He has told my people he wishes to find a cure. It is my intent to encourage you to help him do that. I am prepared to offer any assistance he might require. That includes anything our people discover by researching the sample I have with me.”
“Dr. Raeburn will require that for his work,” Krummeck said. “It is my understanding all other samples have been destroyed.”
“I doubt that,” Williams said. “You have dozens of victims with dormant samples. Samples, I might add, which can be reconstructed and replicated. No, you do not need this active set of specimens.”
“But Washington does? You’re an old military lion, I saw that the moment you walked through the door. You’ll do what Beijing was prepared to do—find a cure for what you will weaponize.”
“That may be. But you also opened the door to Moscow. I’ll bet they have already hacked the phones and computer of the chief forensic pathologist in East London. Beijing has probably done so as well, along with our own Department of Defense. We at least—and you have my word on this—will share with you and Dr. Raeburn anything we find. No one need know where this came from, only who was the key to making sure it never happens again.”
Breen frowned a second time.
Williams smirked and muted the phone. “Okay, it was a threat. But I knew where I was going with it.”
General Krummeck sounded appeased and agreed to what Williams had proposed. The Americans had no doubt his sudden urgency to get off the phone was to secure the devices of the East London CFP.
Williams ended the call and sat back in the thinly cushioned seat. Breen still had a disapproving look.
“You don’t think we should take the sample back?” Williams asked.
“Actually, I do,” Breen said. “Mutual assured destruction is an arguably necessary attitude. I just don’t have to like it.”
“No argument.” Williams rose. “But we have a few hours until Grace and Rivette get here—I’m going to see what they’ve got to eat in the galley and then take a nap.”
“I like when we’re in agreement, Mr. Williams.”
“Yeah.” The commander smiled.
Williams bit off the rest of what he wanted to say. Agreement was a diplomatic idea. Wrong was an ethical one. With Salehi, and now with Katinka, any course of action they might have chosen had legitimate moral weight.
I like it when we’re in agreement, but I learn a helluva lot more when we’re not, Williams thought as they made their way forward.