“Yes. And according to my virologist in Koenig—the only person there not infected—it’s the perfect virus to weaponize because of that. And the fact that only just a couple of days after very mild symptoms, it morphs into this killing machine inside the infected person’s body. Quickly taking them from okay to dead.”
“So everyone will think they have a cold—”
“Then they will drop dead.” Donna was blunt.
It was clear there was no time to waste. “Okay, please let Robert and me have the room. I want an update every fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
Everyone but Robert left the Oval Office.
“Okay Robert. Please give me some good news.”
Bobby went back behind his desk and took his seat. Robert sat down across from him.
“Alexander King checked in with Sam and was able to confirm that Dmitry Kuznetsov is in fact at the Volkov Mining company under an alias.”
Bobby’s mood lifted. “This is fantastic news.”
“It is. He is awaiting your instruction.”
“Well, hell, Robert, you’re the director of the CIA. You know more about this than anyone. What’s the next move?”
“That depends.” Robert sat forward in his chair. “We can send in a team and shut the entire facility down. Or we can wait . . . and watch.”
“Okay. I’m assuming you mean wait to see if we can get to who is responsible.”
Robert nodded.
“But I have to keep the American people safe,” Bobby said as he sat back in his chair, trying to think it through.
“Look, we can shut this facility down in a matter of hours. King could take Kuznetsov down tonight.”
“I feel a but coming on,” Bobby said.
“But . . . I don’t think that would stop anything. We don’t know enough yet. While whoever is building this virus might very well be doing it in Barrow at the Volkov facility, that doesn’t mean they have kept everything there. I can almost guarantee you they have already sent samples back to wherever this entire thing is being orchestrated.”
“So shutting down the facility and killing Kuznetsov might not actually stop anything,” Bobby said.
“Right. I would almost guarantee that whatever strain of this virus was tested in Koenig is already in the hands of someone who can distribute it. And that isn’t in Barrow, Alaska.”
“I agree. So what is the next move?”
“I know it doesn’t feel right to just sit on this, with so many Americans in danger, but we have to let King do some more digging in Barrow. And maybe just as important, we have to let Sam run down where this thing is ultimately being concocted. We need to know if Russia is planning to start World War III with a bioweapon or not.”
Bobby couldn’t believe this is what his first few days in the White House were consisting of. Possibly the biggest threat to America since its inception. But clearly the threat was real. If for no other reason, he could see it on Robert’s face.
“So you think it’s Russia,” Bobby said. “How confident are you?”
“Confident enough that Sam has already been there for a week. And I think she may have found out just who Kuznetsov is communicating with in Moscow.”
Bobby thought about it for a moment. “Shouldn’t we have King in Moscow if you think that is the epicenter?”
“I think Sam is every bit as good as King. And right now we need King in Barrow. They could just as easily distribute the virus from there. All we can do is hope they haven’t already.”
Bobby swallowed hard. He had a long night ahead of him. After the coronavirus outbreak, the sitting president had been good about making sure there was a strong pandemic team in place in case this happened again. It was time for Bobby to make sure they were getting prepared. He wasn’t going to let this thing get away from him. And he just hoped the agents in place could do the same.
“Okay. It’s settled then,” Bobby stood. “We wait . . . and pray we haven’t made a monumental mistake.”
7
Moscow, Russia, 8:00 p.m.
Sam Harrison sidled up to a row of boxes piled seven feet high inside the hangar. As she pulled her Glock from her concealed hip holster, she was hoping she hadn’t overextended herself. She had to gain some information about what was going on with the virus here in Russia, if something was actually happening. As she peered through a crack in the boxes at the private portion of the Domodedovo Airport in southeastern Moscow, she felt certain it could be a matter of millions of people living or dying. All her instincts from her days in MI6 and with the CIA, running down baddies with Alexander King, were telling her that this could be her first real lead. Some answers would be found here.
Up until two hours ago, Sam had been spinning her wheels a bit in Russia. She had located the famous virologist Dmitry Kuznetsov’s protégé, Veronika Kamenev, and even learned she’d been seen meeting with some of the higher-ups in the Russian government. However, none of that was concrete evidence that Veronika was involved with anything Kuznetsov might possibly be doing with weaponizing a virus.
Things were completely different now.
Sam had zero question whether Veronika was involved with Kuznetsov. And the only reason that was the case was due to sheer luck. Intel from an agent-in-place in Moscow led Sam to a meeting between Veronika and a supposed agent for the Foreign Intelligence Service, or FIS, the Russian equivalent of the CIA. It wasn’t anything that Sam found out by being a few tables away from the meeting. In fact, she hadn’t understood a word of what little she could hear. They were speaking Russian. The point of luck was that Sam actually knew the person Veronika was meeting with. And Sam knew she was not Russian intelligence because she used to be a part of Reign, Alexander King and Sam’s clandestine team in the CIA that was disbanded a couple of years ago when Alexander King was forced to fake his own death.
Sam couldn’t believe her eyes when she’d watched Zhanna Dragov walk into the cafe. Sure, she was Russian, and Sam was in Moscow, but last she’d heard about Zhanna was that she’d fallen in love and subsequently fallen off the grid.
Looks like that had been just a cover.
Sam had managed to follow the two of them all the way from the city center to the airport. Zhanna had been ushered into the same vehicle as Veronika, and Sam couldn’t imagine how Zhanna had become involved with what she and Alexander were trying to run down there in Russia.
Zhanna hadn’t changed a bit. She and Sam were built a lot alike. Five feet eight, athletic, fit, but not overly muscular. However, the similarities ended there. As Zhanna was talking to Veronika at the other end of the hangar, her fiery red hair sparked in the yellow overhead lights. To the left of them, the hangar door rattled and began to open. Though Sam was tucked in a corner behind some boxes, she was still exposed. There was a door behind her, and if someone came through now, she would be forced to fight. That was the last thing she wanted to do.
Beyond Zhanna and Veronika, standing beside a small propeller plane, there were three men. Sam didn’t see any guns, but there was little question in her mind that they were strapped. As the hangar door continued to rise, Sam could hear a plane approaching from the runway. She crouched even further and found a different slot to peep through. Everyone’s attention was now on the jet that was pulling to a stop just outside the hangar. As the engine shut down and the cold air seeped into the open room, Sam sat motionless, listening.