CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – Monday morning
6:00 am. Jackie Bingham awoke and swung her feet off the leather couch in her office. After grabbing a coffee from the lounge, she returned to her office and pulled up the ILINet webpage. She was startled at the number of updates. Pine Bluff; two new. Cleveland, Tennessee; one new. Houston; three new. Somerset; two new. Greater Atlanta; four new. Clusters were sprouting like the petals of a morning glory. None of the new cases were identified as H7N9 since the cultures were still being analyzed. Considering the new cases were geographically identical to the only other bird flu incidents, Jackie was positive. It was H7N9. Thankfully, of the twelve new cases, there were no fatalities.
She freshened up in her office bath, then walked the stairwell down to the second floor. Apparently her late night call to Hill had come to fruition, for the EOC conference room was buzzing with activity. There were eight staffers busy working their computers and phones. She was informed more would be arriving. The large, wall mounted flat screen monitor displayed a map of the United States, with red circles interspersed that enclosed the clustering areas. The staffers were busy coordinating the development of response teams in each of the areas.
Jackie sat down next to Sam Mallory, one of the Emergency Operations team leaders. “When did corporate approve setting up the team room?”
“Three this morning,” Sam answered. “There isn’t a whole lot we can do to arrest spreading without a vaccine in our stockpile. The only neuraminidase inhibitors we have are not going to cut it. Do you know if we are getting any closer?”
“I’ll be working on that today. So will a lot of us, but my answer to your question is that I don’t think so. The strain is too new and exhibiting unusual mutative sequencing. Novartis is developing a synthetic version of the virus. If it grows in the lab, we may not have to wait months. Good God, we can’t wait months, even weeks is a scary thought.”
8:00 am. “Hello, Sheriff Kane?” This is Gloria Habersham up in Pulaski County.”
“How can I help you Gloria?”
“My husband, Cecil, is right sick with the flu, and my friends Tammy and Charlie Mayes are both down with it. Charlie is in isolation at Lake Cumberland. Do you think we could get some more NIL?”
“Sure, but I’m running low. Yesterday I had a real run on my supply from the church crowd. How much do you need?”
“If you can spare two jars it would be much appreciated.”
“Anyone else sick that you know of?”
“I don’t know, but Charlie says he’s sure he got it from a guy down in Georgia. Both Charlie and Cecil played softball down there, and they had a friend on one of the other teams that drank a few beers with them in our church bus after the games. That guy was sick then, but he lives in Georgia. That’s all I know about.”
“Can you send someone down to pick up the jars?”
“I can be there in thirty minutes. Is that ok?”
“I’ll be here at the station. Say, anyone from McCreary on your hubby’s softball team?”
“Umm, yes, I think Buster Lanahan lives down there somewhere, like either Parkers or Greenwood.”
“I know Buster. Ok, thanks. I’ll be here. Just come on down, ma’am.”
Autry hung up the phone and checked the closet where he stored the NIL. Just four jars left. He returned to his desk and looked up the number of Buster Lanahan.
“Hello, Buster, this is Sheriff Kane. Nothing to worry about by me callin’ ya. Just got word some of your softball team is comin’ down sick. So I’m callin’ to see how you are feelin’?”
“I don’t feel all that hot, Sheriff. Achy and chillin’, but I’m getting’ my chores done. Who is sick?
“Three people in Pulaski. A guy named Cecil, another one named Charlie, and his wife Tammy. We are kinda gettin’ concerned about a flu outbreak. I know where you live. I’m going to have my deputy run out some NIL to you, so look for him.”
Autry hung up with Buster and called Joshua. “G’mornin’. How’s things goin’?”
“Sitting here in the lounge with the Mehra family having the morning dose.”
“I am runnin’ low on NIL. Have you got some 57 ready? I can be there in ten to fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, come on up. I’ve got several jars ready to go. Before you come, could you stop by Martin’s and bring me some different colored stick-on labels. I need three different colors that I can write the mixture content on.”
“I’ll be there, but can’t stay but a minute. There’s some sickness goin’ on and I gotta get back as soon as I get there. I’ll see you in a few.”
8:20 am. Ankur’s cell phone rang while he was seated at his desk in The Taste of Old India restaurant. “Yes?”
“It is Baldev. The rental car was found late last night at a motel parking lot in Corbin, Kentucky. None of the targets stayed at the motel, a Day’s Inn. The clerk there says the security cameras caught an image of a single person who left the car and then got in another one that drove off. It was foggy so the image was blurred, but it wasn’t the Dobbelaere woman. It was a man. The Kentucky State Police arrived just minutes after the man left in the other car.”
“The police were looking for the rental car?”
“Yes. They were all over it, inside and out. In a couple of hours a tow truck hauled it out of there.”
“Please hold.” Ankur thought a few moments, then returned to the call. “Do not call me again.” He terminated the conversation. Who else would be looking for them, he thought? It had to be the Americans. If Khalil was going behind his back with another agent, he would not be able to utilize the Kentucky police. Was Dobbelaere playing a game?
He opened his laptop and attempted once again to triangulate her cell phone. This time he struck pay dirt. Her cell phone was located in northern Kentucky, just east of Louisville. He zeroed in on the coordinates, and was shocked to find that the cell phone was located at a prison for women. So, Ankur thought, the woman has been apprehended, but the police searching for the car made it appear to him that the Mehras were still at large. But where are they, and who will find them first? He must build a bigger net.
8:22 am. Mike Littleton opened the blinking box. Ankur’s cell phone conversation with a man named Baldev appeared, as did Ankur’s computer search of the Dobbelaere cellular. Littleton printed out the screen and walked it to his supervisor.
“We may have found one of the targets in the Mehra case,” Mike related to his super. “The Dobbelaere cell pinged at a prison outside of Louisville. I looked up the number of the prison. The warden’s name is Hattie McCombs.”
“Good job, Mike.” Stephen Justice, the day super, picked up the phone.
“Hello, Warden McCombs, this is Steve Justice from NSA, Baltimore. We need you to transfer custody of Tracy Dobbelaere to us. We’ll have someone there before noon.”
“Wait just a minute, sir. I don’t have an inmate by that name in my custody. I only have a cell phone that belongs to that name.”
“Where is the woman?”
“I don’t know that information, sir.”
“How did you come to have the cell phone in your possession?”
“It was found on our grounds at first light today. I think someone must have thrown it over the fence before daylight. Honestly, sir, I don’t have any idea what this is about or who she is or where this woman can be found. I found out the owner’s name by playing around with the phone just an hour ago.”
Stephen Justice paused, wondering if the warden was lying. “Warden, I carry a much bigger club than you do. Don’t let me find out that you know more than you’re saying. Contact me immediately should you find out anything more about this. I am sending someone there to retrieve the cell phone.”
Hattie slammed the phone down after the call had ended. She was not going to implicate Patricia Reid, nor reveal the south, central Kentucky location of the Dobbelaere woman, whoever in the hell she is.
8:25 am. Joshua heard the diesel engine laboring up the ent
rance road. He went out to greet Autry in order to allay his concern about the strange car in front of the barn.
“Good morning, Sheriff. The car here is being used by Namanda’s parents. Didn’t want you to pull your sidearm.”
“It’ll be good to finally lay eyes on those mysterious people. I have your labels, but man, did Gizelle grill me about who you are. She saw you Saturday night when the girls were in her store.”
“Autry, I need someone to do me a favor, and I need it done fairly quickly. We’ve handed out almost two hundred NILs now. Do you know of a person that can collect written testimonials from at least half of the recipients? I have a list of names, and in most cases, phone numbers.”
“I’m thinkin’ a good choice would be Janie Cook, and I think I know how to reel her in. How ‘bout we offer her free NIL for a while in exchange for collecting the testimonials? By the way, you are going to have at least three new people using the NIL within the hour. Seems like the flu is hitting this area.”
“Hmm, I considered that when Patricia and Adele told me about the guy they met in Somerset. As far as Janie Cook is concerned, I’m fine with that. Come inside with me for a few seconds. I want to introduce you to the Mehras and give you two cases of NIL. Just so you know, I am going to ask them to leave later today. I don’t think they are safe here.”
Autry was amused to see how small the Mehra parents were. Amit shook Autry’s hand and attempted a hello. Shreya formed a steeple with her hands under her chin and bowed slightly. Joshua helped him out with the NIL along with the list of prior users, then said as they approached the SUV, “I am thinking of taking Pat’s offer of the Mehra’s using a safe house in Frankfort.”
“I think you are right, Joshua. Let me know if there is somethin’ I can do? I gotta git back.”
8:35 am. Joshua was a little surprised to see the incoming call on his new cell phone was from the Lexington Police Department. It must be Jack. Who else would have this new number? Joshua leaned against the hood of the Intrepid and answered the call.
“Hello.”
“Joshua, its Jack. I want to make you aware of a problem. KSP just put out an APB for the Mehras and Dobbelaere. They are going to concentrate on your area down there, Josh. The Mehra rental car that was found in Corbin was traced late last night and found to be travelling east to Corbin. That leads them to believe your county of McCreary is hot, as well as three other counties down your way.”
“That’s the first I have heard about the car. I didn’t know what your plan was. Did your man make it back safely?”
“Yeah, he did, but just by the skin of his teeth. It was too close for comfort. Listen, I think you better wash your hands of the Mehras and get them out of there. Adele told me about Reid’s idea of a safe house. I think you’d better talk some sense into the Mehras for their own good.”
“I intend to do that. I will call Patricia and make sure that the safe haven is available, and if it is, I will persuade the Mehras to leave. I’ll let you or Adele know what happens. Jack, do you want to wash your hands of their name change?”
“I have stuck my neck out far enough, Joshua. I just don’t want to keep taking risks. Adele and Patricia talked long into the night on the phone. Why don’t you find out what Patricia has up her sleeve before you do anything else? I’m hoping she can take some of the heat off of me, ok? If anyone comes around your place inquiring about the Mehras, tell them they had been there but left for St. Louis. That’s where the car rental agency listed the terminal destination. Got that?”
“I do. Thanks for the heads up, Jack.”
Joshua had barely finished the call with Jack when his phone rang again.
“Good morning, Joshua, it’s Patricia Reid. Listen, I’ve only got a couple of minutes so I’m going to be brief. First, I am so impressed with the NIL. I am alert and full of vim and vigor. Second, I am not so sure the safe house idea is a good one for the Mehras. I thought it was until a few minutes ago. My contact at the women’s prison in Louisville called and said the NSA is breathing down her neck. She didn’t mention my involvement, thankfully, and I sure don’t want to jeopardize my campaign by being complicit in a cover-up. Obviously the NSA is eavesdropping on the people in India that are hunting for Tracy and the Mehra family, and it appears the NSA has engaged the services of our State Police to hunt them down in your general area. At least that’s what Adele just told me.”
“I knew about the KSP. I had just hung up the phone with Jack Meadors when you called.”
“It’s not the end of the world if the NSA rounds up all four people, but it would be catastrophic should the bad guys get there first. I imagine the FBI has surveillance teams staking out domestic RAW operatives as we speak, but you never can underestimate their capabilities. It would be much more favorable to have Namanda’s talents misused here in the States than abroad, for if she screws up there, her body parts would be fish food, and her dead parents would only be a memory.”
“Patricia, I will take it from here, but I’m not going to tell you what course of action I take just to keep your involvement to a minimum.”
“I am immensely sorry, Joshua. From a selfish point of view, I wanted to utilize the kid’s talents for my own benefit, but that is just so wrong. I wish I had a better solution. One more thing and then I’ve got to run. I am having dinner tonight with one of the UK trustees. Did Adele tell you about my idea?”
“Not much. She said I should talk with you about it.”
“Ok, we will talk at another time. I intend to plant a seed tonight to see if a door creaks open. I’ll get back with you. By the way, I love Adele. What a character she is.”
Joshua, still leaning against the hood of the Intrepid after saying goodbye to Pat, closed his eyes, and smiled when he remembered something Van had said to Adele…….that the nucleus of global issues existed in this tiny, secluded forest. Van had also said that the Mehras should be allowed to do what they determined was best for them. He remembered back to his days on the reservation and the teachings of Hachika……… ‘Follow your heart, and another will follow his. That is as it should be’.
Joshua returned to the workroom in the barn. The Mehras were hard at work measuring each ingredient according to the 57 formula, depositing each level spoonful into an empty Ball jar. “Come, sit with me in the lounge. We need to talk.”
8:40 am. “I’m sorry I’m a little late, Sheriff.” Gloria Habersham entered the station and spoke her apology through a handkerchief.
“Are you not feeling well?” Autry replied.
“Not so hot, Sheriff Kane. I’m just not trying to spread a bug, if I am carrying one. I’ll be fine, I think. I’d like to fetch those two jars of NIL and then hit the road. My hubby and my friends up in Somerset are all flat on their backs. But first, may I use your facilities?”
“Take that door, then down the hall on the left.”
Gloria noticed on the right side of the hallway that there were two jail cells, one of which was occupied. She was certainly surprised to see a beautiful, young blonde woman incarcerated in one of them. “Mercy, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in here?”
Tracy answered, “Come close. I have to talk to you.” She grabbed the cell bars and began to whisper. “I’m being held against my will and for no legitimate reason. Do you have a pen and paper in your purse? I need you to text someone on your cell phone. Please help me.”
Though Gloria was suspicious, she fished out a pen and a Kleenex, then handed it to the illogical prisoner. Tracy jotted down a number with instructions. “Please send a text with this message.” Tracy pointed out the script, which read, ‘Rahul, its Tracy. I am in a jail in Whitley City, Kentucky’. “Please do it, I have no one else to turn to for bail money. I’ve already missed a day’s work. You must help me.”
Gloria returned to Autry’s desk, wondering if she should show the Sheriff the note. She decided against it, at least for the moment. “Thank you so much for the jars of NIL, Sheriff. I must be ge
tting back. No telling how many more may be needing this. Gloria was still speaking through her handkerchief, which caused Autry to wonder if she was carrying, and possibly spreading, the bird flu virus.
“Any time, ma’am. Ya’ll git better, ya hear?”
As Autry watched the lady leave, Donna, Autry’s secretary, entered his office with a sheet of paper in hand. “You’d better take a look at this Autry. It just arrived on the fax.”
It was an all-points bulletin from the Kentucky State Police. The message read….. ‘APB, Tracy Dobbelaere, Amit Mehra, Shreya Mehra, Namanda Mehra; foreign nationals from India. Believed to be in the south, central area of Kentucky. Wanted by the NSA. The Mehras may be using the last name of Singh. Detain and contact the following authority immediately upon interaction with any of the subjects’.
Autry laid the fax down, then ran his rough hands through his thinning hair. After considering his options, none of which were good, he inserted the fax into the shredder. “I ain’t likin’ this one bit, Donna, but it’s what I gotta do. Don’t matter. My ass is in the sling no matter which way I go.”
“Whatcha gonna do, Autry?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just remember, we never received that fax. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, but I’m gonna stop at Martin’s on the way back.”
Autry grabbed the keys to Tracy’s cell. He unlocked her door, walked in, and cuffed her. “Come on, little lady, it’s time to go.”
Autry drove Tracy to the Tennessee line, then pulled to the roadside. He removed the handcuffs and set her travel bag in the grass. “Don’t be for comin’ back into my area or I’ll make it rough for you. This here highway gits a lot of traffic and goes all the way to Florida. You’ll git yourself a ride soon enough. Start walkin’.”
He made the U-turn to head back into Kentucky, but pulled off onto the shoulder for a few minutes. He watched in his side mirror as an eighteen wheeler smoked the tires with the air brakes screaming. In only seconds, the red hot blonde climbed inside the rig and accompanied the luckiest guy on the planet; but in four days, the lucky truck driver would run out of good fortune. He would run out of life, having succumbed to the H7N9 avian flu virus.