“So fleas and flies? That’s all?”

“No, that’s not all. He strung them both upside down from one of the rafters. If Emily’s neighbor hadn’t shown up when he did, they’d be dead.

“Wait a second,” said Harvath. “They’re alive? Emily and the dog?”

“Yes, but only barely. I’m on my way to the hospital in Manassas now.”

“When you get there, make sure the doctor and the vet monitor them both for boils and any sort of plaguelike illness. In fact, you should recommend that they start courses of antibiotics right away. This guy has been combining scenarios from the ten plagues of Egypt. The flies and the fleas were the third and the fourth, or in this guy’s case, the seventh and eighth. Just tell them to be on the lookout.”

When Lawlor said, “Scot, there’s something else I need to tell you,” dread seized him.

“Who else?” was all Harvath could manage.

“Carolyn Leonard and Kate Palmer. They were infected with some kind of staphylococcus aureus-bubonic plague hybrid.”

The knife had been shoved into Harvath’s heart the minute he found Tracy lying in a pool of blood on his doorstep; now it felt as if acid were being poured down the blade. The pain of having it twisted for Emily and the dog was one thing, but with Kate and Carolyn added to the mix, it was almost too much to bear.

“Where did it happen?” he asked.

“At Tysons Galleria,” replied Lawlor.

“The shopping center? In public?”

“Some guy was offering perfume samples. We think he had the hybrid aerosolized. Kate gave the Bureau guys a description. Macy’s sent over pictures of all their employees, contracted or otherwise, and none of them are a match.”

“Are they looking at CCTV footage?”

“The tapes have already been pulled and both Kate and Carolyn are working with sketch artists.”

“Will they be okay?” asked Harvath.

“This bug is very fast-acting. They showed symptoms in less than twelve hours, which is pretty much unheard of with either staphylococcus aureus or bubonic plague.”

“If I remember my medical training right, staphylococcus aureus causes some pretty nasty boils.”

“And can be a real bear to treat because of resistance to most antibiotics,” said Lawlor. “The best thing they have going for them is the fact that it was caught early. Even so, the medical people are pretty concerned about how fast-moving it is. They’ve both been quarantined.”

“There’s no question in my mind that we’re dealing with the same guy,” stated Harvath.

“Nor in anyone else’s. They found a card in Carolyn Leonard’s purse, the kind perfume samples are sprayed onto. It had the name of some bogus perfume and a tagline written in Italian.”

“Let me guess,” said Harvath. “That which has been taken in blood, can only be answered in blood?”

“Exactly,” stated Lawlor.

“Does the president know?”

“Yes, he knows.”

“And?” asked Harvath.

“And it doesn’t change anything. He still expects you to turn yourself in.”

“Well, he’s going to have to wait until I’m finished.”

Chapter 71

THE WHITE HOUSE

Jack Rutledge prided himself on his ability to read his people. When Charles Anderson was shown into the residence, the president knew he hadn’t arrived bearing good news.

“We’ve got a problem, sir,” said Anderson, confirming the president’s suspicions.

Rutledge closed the report he’d been skimming and motioned for his chief of staff to take a seat. “What is it?”

“I just heard from Director Vaile. His team managed to take Harvath into custody.”

“That should be good news. What’s the problem?”

“Harvath escaped.”

“He what?” demanded Rutledge. “How the hell did that happen?”

“It’ll all be in the DCI’s briefing,” replied Anderson, “but there’s more.”

“How much more?”

The chief of staff lowered his voice. “Before he escaped, Harvath was debriefed about his recent trip to Jordan. Apparently, he was able to lure Abdel Salam Najib out of Syria to Amman.”

The president could feel his chest constricting. “Harvath killed him. Didn’t he?”

“Yes, sir, he did.”

“God damn it!” Rutledge bellowed. “First Palmera and now Najib. When their people realize what’s happening they’re going to strike back. We need to assemble the National Security Council.”

The president had his work cut out for him. He knew there was no way the United States could provide continuous protection for every single school bus in the nation. It wasn’t just a logistical nightmare; it would also create widespread panic. American citizens would rightly wonder if school buses weren’t safe from terrorists, what was. Would movie theaters be safe? Would shopping malls? How about public transportation? Should they even keep their children in school? Should they even be going in to work?

The specter of terrorism, especially when given weight and legitimacy by the government, had an amazingly corrosive effect on society. The president had read the classified reports on the impact of the D. C. sniper shootings and had studied the extrapolations of how quickly the U. S. economy would suffer if a similar threat was played out nationwide. After the economic ramifications began to unfold, the societal problems would erupt. If law enforcement couldn’t bring the perpetrators to justice, citizens would begin to take matters into their own hands. Hate crimes would spike, and groups who felt they were being persecuted would begin to strike back. If the situation was not addressed quickly and effectively, rioting would ensue. In a word, the situation would devolve into anarchy. The psychological effects of terrorism were absolutely insidious.

The president’s chief of staff interrupted his thoughts by saying, “There’s also something else we need to talk about.”

Rutledge shook his head as if to say What else could there be?

“A reporter from the Baltimore Sun contacted Geoff Mitchell’s office for a statement on a story he’s about to run. As you know, being the White House press secretary, Geoff gets asked a lot of wild, conspiracyesque questions, but this reporter has his teeth into something. Geoff’s afraid it could get some traction if not put down immediately with a direct repudiation from you.”

“What’s the story?”

“The reporter is going to claim that you authorized the removal of a John Doe corpse from the Maryland Medical Examiner’s Office to dupe the people of Charleston, South Carolina, into believing that their school bus hijacker had been shot and killed.”

Rutledge gritted his teeth and grabbed the arms of his chair. “Where the hell did that story come from?”

“At this point, sir, it doesn’t much matter. What matters is that it’s pretty damaging, and he’s going to also allege the White House was complicit in a homicide.”

“A homicide? What homicide?”

“According to this guy Sheppard, a Maryland assistant medical examiner and one of his investigators were approached by two men posing as FBI agents who told them to leave the case alone. Shortly thereafter they were killed in a traffic accident.”

The president was livid. “Why the hell wasn’t I told about this?”

Anderson shrugged his shoulders and said, “I assume you’ll have to ask Director Vaile that.”

“Get him over here right now,” ordered Rutledge. “And after I get to the bottom of this with him, I want to talk to Geoff. We absolutely cannot let that story run.”

“Do you still want me to assemble the NSC?”

The president thought about it for a moment and replied. “I want the confirmation on Najib directly from Vaile. Then I’ll decide what our next move should be.”

The chief of staff nodded and disappeared.

Once he was gone, Rutledge drilled his thumbs into his temples. He could feel a monster migraine coming on. Things were spinning so wildly out of control that they were starting to fly off the track. He didn’t want to even think of what might happen next. Deep down, though, he knew that things were going to get much worse before they even had a prayer of getting better.