He straightened in his chair and sat very still for about five seconds. Then he abruptly reached into his pocket, activated his cellular, and called one of his section mates.
A woman answered.
“Michelle?” he said.
“Jimmy, hi, what’s up?”
“Better head over to my office. I think I’ve got something figured.”
Her tone was crisp. “Be right with you.”
“Thanks.” Carmichael’s finger paused over the disp connect button. In his excitement, he’d almost forgotton to ask for what he wanted her to bring along. “Michelle, still there?”
“Yeah, Jimmy, I was just putting back the phone.”
“A favor. It’s no big deal, I suppose. We can get the info easily enough on-line or something-”
Impatience: “Jimmy-”
“Sorry, Michelle, I’m a little hyped,” he said. “Since /you’re passing the reference library anyway, would you see if you can find that book on the American presidents?”
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Tom Clancy’s Power Plays
The highway’s posted speed limit was sixty-five miles per hour. The jet black Beemer’s speedometer had ticked up near ninety. This was the Bay Area. Megan Breen was at the wheel. She was in a rush to get to the hospital and hadn’t bothered with the radar detector.
Belted into the passenger seat, Rollie Thibodeau gripped his assist handle as she wove in and out of the left lane to pass a Suburban snailing along at a mere seventy-five miles per hour.
She snapped a glance at him through her sunglasses. A deep crease had established itself across his brow. He was very quiet. It occurred to her that six months was not very long ago when someone was recovering from the kind of internal damage he’d suffered in Brazil.
She resisted the urge to sway around the Lincoln now in front of her.
“Rol, everything okay?”
He nodded. “Just thinkin’. Don’t slow down on my account.”
“Oh. That’s not why-”
” ‘S’okay, chere.” He patted her shoulder. “You my favorite gal.”
She checked the rearview and passed.
“Those thoughts,” she said. “You feel like sharing them?”
He turned to look at her.
“Guess I better.” He hesitated. “Came to me what happened to the president-elect in Brazil last month. Colon. I was recollectin’ how he took sick, died so sudden. His symptoms … ones we know about… ones his government didn’t cover up …”
He didn’t have to say any more than that.
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BIO-STRIKE
His symptoms, Megan thought, had been strikingly f similar to Gord’s.
She felt her heart clamp in her chest.
“Rollie, UpLink was about to cut a development deal | with his administration. Our advance team met with him ^weeks before he died. You remember us talking about it t-.on the PomonaT
He made an affirmative sound.
“There’s my thoughts,” he said. “All wrapped in a Ibundle.”
Megan nodded and jammed down on the Beemer’s tgas pedal, shredding over the road like the devil’s black Istallion.
“Megan phoned,” Nimec said. “She’s with Ashley and |Rollie at the hospital.”
Ricci’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly.
“The boss … ?”
“He’s hanging on.”
“Oh.” Ricci breathed. “I didn’t know my arch nemesis Iwas heading over there.”
Nimec was silent a moment. They were in his office. pust the two of them, by his choice. He’d wanted a |ichance to toss things around with Ricci before calling kVince Scull.
“Megan grabbed him, hustled off.” Nimec paused. i’Tom, the docs and lab coats have turned something up. |And I’ve got to tell you, it blew me away.”
Ricci looked at him.
“Long and short?” he said.
“Looks like the virus that’s affecting Gord was bioenfeineered. We’re not talking about something cultured in |some Iraqi or Sudanese ‘baby milk factory.’ The bug’s
331
Tom Clancy’s Power Plays
some kind of mutant created with black bag technology.”
“How sure a thing is this?”
“Sure enough for us to run with it,” Nimec said. “I asked Meg to give me a dumbed-down explanation of their testing processes. From what I understood, there are confirmed techniques for scanning plant and animal genes for evidence of modification. Before UpLink sold off its biotech division to Richard Sobel, we were doing it for the ag department and other clients. You take a cucumber that has some superficial difference to all the rest at the green grocer, bring it to the lab, and they do a PCR exam, same as they would on a crime suspect’s genetic material. The DNA doesn’t compare with that variety of cuke, they move on to another level of testing. There are places on the gene string where scientists know to look for… I guess they’re the equivalent of splices.”
Ricci rubbed his neck. “A cucumber isn’t a virus,” he said.
“But the scientific principles behind the tests are identical. Or close to identical. Meg could give you a fuller rundown. All I can tell you is that these are confirmed procedures,” Nimec said. “They’ve only had, what, a day or two to do the lab work, so I don’t know whether the findings meet a standard of proof that would satisfy the scientific establishment. Doesn’t matter. Nobody’s writing any articles for the New England Journal of Medicine. We’ve been given an inside line, and that’s how it stays for now.”
Ricci was still and quiet in his chair.
“Ever miss the twentieth century?” he said after a minute.
332
bio-strike
i
..>
m
1*1
I
|fc”More and more.”
“But here we are in the future.”
‘That’s right.”
“If we have to put up with this bullshit, where are the
^ing cars? And the robots that pop hot food and drinks lit of slots in their chests?”
Nimec managed a half smile. “I always looked for- to the jet packs,” he said.
There was a brief silence.
“Where do we go with this, Pete?”
“I was hoping you’d have some ideas. Obviously
e’ve got to learn who developed the virus. And how
ord was exposed.”
“The forensics on Palardy might help steer us in the
tit direction. We’ve also got to know whether there’s nything to his E-mail,” Ricci said. He scratched behind is ear. “You hear from our code-breaking whiz?”
Nimec shook his head. “Not for a while. He stopped ing up his phone.”
“Booted me right out of his office,” Ricci said. “You we should go knock on his-?”
Nimec’s phone broke in with a twitter. He picked up,
tinted, nodded, grunted again, replaced the receiver, nd abruptly rose from behind his desk. “Timing,” he aid.
Ricci looked at him. “Carmichael?”
Nimec nodded, tapped Ricci on his shoulder as he
stened around his desk. “Let’s move,” he said. “He’s
: something big for us.”
t’s quirky but clever, when you take into account that
ilardy may have been on his way out when he devised
t,” Carmichael was explaining virtually as they reached
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Tom Clancy’s Power Plays
his door. “Sort of a cross between a polyalphabetic and I
geometric cipher.” j
What Ricci and Nimec saw on the flat-panel wall 1
monitor facing them was a large graphic: 1
PRESIDENTS 1-26 George Washington John Mum Thomas Jefferson Jams Madison JamatMonne John Quincy Adams Andrew Jack ton Martin Van Buren WlllamHemy Harrison JohnTyler James Knox Poft ZacharyTaytor Mllbrd FMrnore Frank*! Pierce James Buchanan Abraham Lincoln Andrew Johmon UlyuesS. Grant Rutherford B, Hayes JanwiAGarfieM Chester A. Arthur GroverCleveUnd Benjamin Harrison WlllamMcKinley Tlwodora Roosevatt Willbm Howard Tift
PRESIDENTS 1-26 IREORDEREP1 JanwcBuchanin Abraham Lincoln Aadrew Jackson UlynesS. Giant RuthwtofdB. Hayes Jam”A.GarWd Chester A. Artliur Graver Cleveland Benjamin Harriton mUamMcKinley TneodanRoosenlt William Howard Tail George Washington John Qulncy Adams Thomas Jeffarsoti JohnHonroe James Madison John Adams Andrew Johnson Martin Van Bunn WMam Henry Harrison JohnTyter James Knox Polk ZacharyTaylor MHIardFillmore FtiWitdJn Pt?fC6
ROUGH CIRCLE (CLOCK) TABU 2
21 [ JWH
;t/
JB-1″A
AL-24
AJ=3=C
UG^>0
RH=5″E
JSW
CA-7″C
GC-8-H
BH=91
WM>10=J
TR’11K
WT-12=L
GW=1*=M
JAM4-N
TJ=15″0
JM=16=P
JM=17″Q
JA”U”R
AJ-19øS
M\f=20BT
WH-21U
JT=22=V
JP=23=W
ZT=24=X
HF-25-Y
FP=2S=Z
00=R”pMf/n/(7.te
Puncliatan’Nulls
334
BIO-STRIKE
ttl
f
‘!/’! j|
: “Palardy did have a thing for clocks, Ricci, and it’s obvious he used one to work out his substitutions,” Car- michael went on. “Sooner or later, the computers would have solved this thing mathematically, even without your having made the observation. Just as they would have if some of those letter combinations hadn’t jumped out at my eye. The GW in particular … How many people don’t immediately think ‘George Washington’ when they look at that letter pair? Once I let my nose follow that clue, I started noticing other bigrams also corresponded to presidential initials. Jefferson, Jackson, and Teddy Roosevelt’s especially popped out at me.”
He paused, motioned them into the office. A trim, blonde woman of about thirty-five was standing near the middle of the room.
“Michelle Franks,” she said, putting out her hand.
Nimec and Ricci quickly introduced themselves.
She said, “We won’t waste precious time with a long explanation…”
Good, Ricci and Nimec both thought at once.
“… but want you to understand how we got this figured, and whipped together the chart in front of you.”