TWENTY SIX
Nell sensed Hasham behind her, sneaking up again, checking what she was doing, making sure she was finishing his blending, not sabotaging the weapon, not stalling.
She was stalling, looking for a way to weaken his weapon. Or derail his secret delivery system, whatever it was.
She rechecked her HazMat sleeves for holes. If she breathed just a few particles of what she was working with, she’d die in minutes. Sweat slid down her neck despite the air-conditioned suit.
She felt Hasham’s small, piercing eyes watching her every move.
“You have thirty minutes to finish, Doctor,” he said. “Then we’ll test the final weapon.”
“But I’m having difficulty achieving your exacting blend-consistency targets. I’m 1.9% short of your goal.”
She showed him the results, hoping he didn’t realize she’d tweaked them a bit.
He stared at the results, clearly not buying them.
“Fix this, or you’ll be 1.9% short of saving your daughter’s life.”
Her knees buckled.
“By the way - look!” He showed her his iPad screen.
Nell’s heart stopped when he showed her a photo of Mia surrounded by three masked men. Each held a long, curved knife, like the masked assassins who beheaded innocent captives. And Mia was no longer in her grandmother’s house. She was in a strange room, but her face was still frozen in the same terrified expression as before.
“Complete the work, Doctor, or the sheik gets her.”
Nell slumped against the lab bench and tried to calm herself. She felt helpless.
She had to fix the blend consistency. But helping Hasham was a death warrant for thousands of innocent men, women, and children. Could she help kill thousands to save her daughter? She felt like something was ripping her heart open. My best choice is to finish this blend – learn how he’s delivering the weapon, then somehow get word to the police.
But getting word to the police seemed impossible.
Which left her with one last-resort - unleash VX here in the cabin. It will kill us all, but maybe stop Hasham’s mass attack.
But even unleashing VX in the cabin seemed impossible. Only Hasham had access to the weaponized VX locked up in the lab. And he was with her every minute.
“Twenty-eight minutes and counting, Doctor.”
She looked out through the lab window at Aarif. The huge man slathered gobs of hummus on some pita bread. He bit off a big chunk and chewed. But when he saw her, he stopped chewing and stared at her.
His vacant eyes said it all.
Aarif would be her executioner. It was only a matter of time.
Twenty-six minutes later, Nell handed Hasham her final blend-consistency report. It reached his target goal.
“Excellent,” he said as he walked over to a VX container, unlocked it, and returned with a nose-drop bottle filled with the weapon.
“Test time!” Hasham said as he held the bottle up to the light. “It had better work, Doctor Northam.”
“It will. But . . . ”
“But what?”
“Its efficiency in the real world depends partly on how you will deliver it to your victims. But since you won’t tell me how, I can’t predict your ah . . . kill-rate . . . with any accuracy.”
“But I can predict it. With amazing accuracy and precision.”
“Precision is not possible with VX nerve gas!” she said. “Air dispersal, your most likely VX delivery, depends on too many environmental factors like wind, humidity, rain.”
He smiled. “Oh, but precision is possible with my delivery.”
“Based on what?”
“Based partly on top secret tests your own government conducted years ago.”
She had no idea which tests he referred to. And how could he possibly know about such top secret US military tests? Clearly, someone at Aberdeen or an ex-employee told him. She couldn’t think of anyone who’d betray their work. But then people could be bought or blackmailed.
“Follow me!” he said.
He led her down the hall toward the kennels where he’d shown her the beautiful Golden Labs.
She didn’t want to watch this. “You don’t need to kill the dogs. I promise that the blended VX will work.”
“I don’t accept promises from infidels.”
“Please don’t do this!”
“Okay . . . I won’t.”
Did he mean it?
He signaled for her follow him, a strange smile on his face.
They walked past the door to the dog kennels.
Where’s he going? she wondered. They continued walking around the corner and down a long hall with a door at the end.
He unlocked the door and they entered what looked like a small windowless room. She saw a sink, mirror, toilet. A low-wattage bulb hung from the ceiling.
She heard something. Wheezing . . .
She turned and saw a withered, older man with a gray beard, lying on a cot, snoring. His scruffy soiled clothes and wrinkled face suggested he was a homeless man they’d grabbed off the street. Beside the cot lay several empty Four Roses bottles. The room smelled like whiskey and sweat.
The old man’s eyes flickered open, then shut.
“You’re not going to - ?
“ – I am! A scientist always tests his product on the intended target.”
“But this is murder!”
“Au contraire. It’s mercy. Look at his pathetic condition.”
“He’s alive!”
“Not for long.”
She hated what he was about to do.
“Maybe test a cat or . . . dog.”
“My dogs are far too important.”
He’s going to kill this poor man. She felt dizzy.
“Please don’t do this. I guarantee it will work. What would I gain by lying?“
“I must see it work.”
Wearing gloves, Hasham took the nose-dropper containing the liquid, unscrewed the top, and drew some VX up into the dropper. He opened a small box and took out something she couldn’t see.
Nell refused to watch. She walked out of the room into the hall, placed her face against the wall, closed her eyes, and prayed for the poor man. She blocked her ears, but soon heard his breathing become labored, then heard gasping and groaning. She pushed harder on her ears, but still heard him wheezing, rasping to breathe. Seconds later, she heard silence.
“Look! It works perfectly!”
She knew the poor man was dead, knew his pain had been horrific, knew blood would soon spill from his body . . . knew that thousands of people would soon die the same way.
Her eyes filled with tears. She looked at Hasham, hating the merciless bastard. If she had a gun, she’d have shot him between the eyes.
“You’ve done your job,” Hasham said.
“YOUR job!” she shouted back at him. My job, she thought, is stopping you!
Hasham walked her back to the main lab. His phone rang and he answered it. He suddenly grew angry with the caller and started ranting and raving in loud Arabic, waving his arms. As he turned his back to her and continued his screaming tirade, she grabbed something from a nearby desk. He hung up two minutes later, still furious and mumbling in Arabic. Then he ushered her straight upstairs to the cabin.
“Return to your room. I shall come for you shortly.”
She headed to her room, but left the door ajar a bit to see Hasham and Aarif through the crack. Aarif began speaking in Arabic, but Hasham quickly reminded him, “English in America.”
Aarif nodded.
“Trucks on time?” Hasham said.
“Arrive tonight.”
“Good.”
“What about . . . ?” Aarif nodded toward her room.
Hasham glanced at her room and switched to whispered Arabic.
Nell didn’t need a translator. They were discussing what they’d do with her now that Hasham had seen the blended weapon kill the old man. Two things were clear: First, he didn’t need her any more - and second, he wouldn’t risk her escaping.
Nell realized her husband’s great fear had come true. Her job jeopardized her life. And Mia’s. She had long argued that there was no way terrorists could discover the weapons she worked with. But they had.
As a result, I probably have minutes to live . . .