CHAPTER TEN
Davidson used his ISB uniform - and the Visitor's Pass he was given the day before - to drive through the heavily guarded checkpoint into the Center for Disease Control carpark. He parked and strolled into the building, where an elevator took him down to the huge laboratory in the basement, already crowded with laboratory staff.
He wandered into the ante-room of Doctor Carpenter's suite and presented himself to the secretary. She picked up a phone and notified her boss that he had arrived. Dr Carpenter emerged from his office, looking a little flustered. "Ah, Major Davidson. You're here to see Fiona?"
"Of course. Has she arrived?"
"Yes, about fifteen minutes ago. I collared her before she could talk to anyone and took her into my office. I haven't told her about Robert's death. I just said that someone from the Internal Security Bureau wanted to talk to her."
"How'd she react to that?"
A raised eyebrow. "She got worried, of course. You guys are quite frightening. I told her she's not in trouble - you just need help with an inquiry."
"Good. She's still in your office?"
"Of course. Come in."
Davidson followed Doctor Carpenter into his office, where a woman in her early twenties, with curly ginger hair and elfin features sat on a chair facing the desk. The City Regulations said a woman's hair could not touch her collar. Her hair came very close. She also had a small tattoo on the back of her wrist, which was forbidden.
She jumped out of her chair and looked fearfully at Davidson's uniform.
"Good morning. My name is Major Carl Davidson. I'm from the ISB."
She squeezed her hands together. "Umm, ah, Doctor Carpenter said you want help with an inquiry."
"Yes, But first, I'm afraid I've got bad news."
She sat and clutched the armrests with white knuckles. "Really?"
"Yes, your boss, Robert Meredith is dead."
He'd wanted to break the news himself, to gauge her reaction.
She looked genuinely stunned. "He's what?"
"He's dead. He fell from his apartment on Tuesday night. His body was found yesterday morning."
She bent over and sobbed. "Oh, that's terrible - terrible."
Doctor Carpenter picked up a box of tissues sitting on his table and passed it to her. She desperately extracted a couple and used them to mop her eyes and blow her nose.
Davidson gave her about a minute to recover and said: "Have you got any idea why he fell?"
She took out more tissues and sobbed into them. "No."
"Is it possible he jumped?"
She looked up from the bed of tissues, surprised. "Why would he do that? He was a happy, sensible kind of guy."
Davidson flung a thigh over the corner of the desk, and pulled out a pen and notebook. "Alright, I'd better get a few details: where do you live?"
"In Sector 12." That sector was far inland, near the City Wall.
"By yourself?"
"No, with my parents."
"Where were you on Tuesday night?"
She looked nervous. "I went to the movies, with a couple of girlfriends."
"What are their names and where do they live?"
"Do I have to tell you?"
"Yes."
She sighed and gave him the details, which he jotted in his notebook.
He said: "There's evidence that Robert Meredith was seeing a woman. Do you know anything about that?"
She rubbed her nose. "No. I mean, he didn't mention anything to me about a woman."
"If he was seeing a woman, would he have told you?"
A shrug. "I don't know. Maybe, or maybe he'd have been afraid I'd tease him about it. I can be a bit annoying. It's hard to say."
"Alright. Now, when was the last time you saw him?"
Before she could answer, a siren hooted three times and a metallic male voice said: "Intruders in the building ... intruders in the building ... intruders in the building."
Christ. Davidson looked at Doctor Carpenter. "Have you ever heard that before?"
"Not for real - only during a practice drill."
"Is this a practice drill?"
"I don't think so. They always say so."
"OK. You both stay here; don't move."
Davidson pulled out his Glock 17, slipped through the ante-room, past the cowering secretary, and pushed the door slightly ajar. Nobody outside. He slipped into the corridor. Several lab-coated staff scurried around a corner and dashed towards him. He raised his pistol and took up the trigger slack, before letting them pass.
Heart thumping, he slid along the wall to the corner and peered around it. The huge laboratory area looked empty: the technicians had either fled or were hiding under the benches.
He was about to step out when four men and a woman wearing white overalls, all armed with automatic rifles, emerged from a corridor on the far side of the lab and headed down a narrow lane between the benches. They were about 50 yards away, coming straight towards him. Jesus. They weren't CDC security officers or police. Definitely intruders. Must be Freedom Alliance fighters.
As if to confirm that, three security officers stepped out of an elevator to the right of the intruders, raised their pistols and immediately started shooting. The female intruder screamed and went down, but the rest swiveled around and sprayed bullets at the officers, cutting them down. Their coolness and precision said they had plenty of combat experience. Definitely from the Freedom Alliance.
While they directed their fire at the security officers, Davidson dashed towards the nearest laboratory bench while firing off several shots that knocked an intruder over. He'd just reached the bench when the three survivors turned and hosed the area around him with bullets. The cough, bark and chatter of the weaponry made his ears ring and heart batter his chest bone. Cordite tickled his nostrils.
He peeked around a corner of the bench and saw three more security officers emerge from a side corridor and exchanged gunfire with the intruders. Two were cut down and the third retreated back up the corridor.
After a long pause, two intruders stood up and sprayed bullets in Davidson's direction while a third, wearing a heavy pack, leaped to his feet and dashed across the laboratory towards the Vaccine Storage Area. Davidson crawled to the other end of the bench, got a bead on the third intruder just before he reached that area and put a couple of bullets into his chest. The intruder crumpled to the ground.
The two surviving intruders stopped shooting and ducked below a bench. One yelled to the guy Davidson had just shot. "Zorro ... Zorro …" No response.
The survivors had a hurried and inaudible conversation. Then they sprayed more bullets in Davidson's direction and sprinted back towards the corridor from which they had emerged. Davidson leaped up and nailed the trailing one, who topped over. The other one already had a big red blotch on his left shoulder and was limping badly. Davidson fired a couple of shots that missed. Then the intruder disappeared into the corridor.
Heart buzzing and ears ringing, Davidson ejected the empty magazine in his pistol and inserted another he took from a pouch on his belt. He had stopped breathing long ago and his lungs were empty. Breathe hard; breathe hard. After sucking in several deep breaths, he dashed across the laboratory towards the fleeing intruder. As he passed the blood-drenched bodies of the other intruders - two men and a woman - he covered them with his pistol in case they could still retaliate. None moved.
He dashed up the corridor, following a trail of blood on the floor and reached a bisecting corridor. He turned left and followed the blood for about thirty yards, until he reached another intersection. He glanced around the corner and saw the fleeing intruder, about twenty yards away, laying on his back, pistol gone, in a growing pool of blood.
To his surprise, Helen Watkins stood over him, pointing a pistol at his head. She had said she couldn't join Davidson in the basement because she had appointments. Yet now she was down here. She must have heard the announcement there were intruders and sprinted downstairs.
He was abou
t to step around the corner and approach her when the guy on the ground croaked: "Do it."
Her pistol shook and she shrieked: "I can't."
He wheezed through clenched teeth. "Do it, do it - you must."
"No."
"You must. I can't be captured. Do it, please."
While Davidson watched, transfixed, she sobbed loudly, turned her head away and fired three bullets into the intruder's chest.
Davidson suppressed a gasp, slipped back out of sight and leaned against the wall, heart thumping and brain churning. The intruder begged Watkins to kill him to avoid capture and she obeyed. She was obviously on their side - a traitor.
He was tempted to step around the corner and confront her. But he didn't want to be hasty. Maybe he could use the fact she was a traitor, who didn't know she'd been unmasked, to his advantage. Best to back off and consider his options.
With a trembling hand, he holstered his pistol and strode back the way he came, still shocked at what he'd just seen. When he reached the laboratory, five or six security officers were running about, waving automatic rifles or pistols, looking for targets. A couple trained their weapons on him, then recognized his uniform and lowered them.
Eric Tanguy, holding a sawn-off shotgun, stood over the corpse of an intruder - a pretty woman with short blonde hair.
Davidson approached him, still regularizing his breathing. "One of them got away. I followed him up that corridor and lost him." He used his thumb to point over his shoulder. "I think he's wounded."
Tanguy turned to a security officer next to him. "You heard that. Take three men and find him. Take him alive if possible."
"Yes, sir."
The officer summoned three comrades and sprinted up the corridor.
A red-faced Tanguy looked around. "What a mess. Looks like four intruders are already dead, and five of my men. How many did you kill?"
"Your men took down one; I took down the other three, including that guy over there." He pointed at the corpse outside the Vaccine Storage Area.
"Good work - damn good. Sorry I missed the party, though. Not fair."
"Who are they?"
"Must be Freedom Alliance. Seems they drove a sanitation truck through the main gate, using fake IDs, then used a swipe card to slip into the building. Fortunately, one of my officers saw them on a surveillance monitor, walking down a corridor with their weapons. He raised the alarm."
"What was their objective?"
"Not sure." He pointed at the corpse outside the Vaccine Storage Area "But that guy over there has a backpack full of plastic explosives. It looks like they wanted to destroy the storage area, or maybe even the whole building; would have succeeded if you weren't here." He looked around. "Where's Helen? Wasn't she with you?"
He resisted the temptation to say he had just seen her mercy-kill a Freedom Alliance comrade. "No, she had appointments this morning. I came down here by myself."
A frown. "Really? Then where is she?"
"I'm here," a frail voice said.
They turned and saw Helen Watkins strolling towards them, eyes gleaming and face ivory white. The pistol she used to kill her Freedom Alliance comrade was now in its holster.
Davidson wasn't surprised she looked shattered and was curious to see how well she played the role of loyal citizen.
Tanguy said: "Where have you been?"
Her voice quivered. "I had some things to do this morning. When I heard the siren, I sprinted down here." She pointed back the way she came. "Bumped into an intruder back there, running away."
"You got him."
"Yeah, he's dead."
"Good, good. Well done."
She looked ready to faint. "Thanks."
"You OK?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You look upset."
She gulped. "I - I've never shot anyone before."
Tanguy waved dismissively. "Forget about it. They're scum. You'll get used to it. I'm just sorry I couldn't bag one." He glared at Davidson. "Some people get all the luck."
Davidson shrugged. "Sorry about that. Next time I'll give you a phone call." Davidson remembered that he left Doctor Carpenter barricaded in his office suite with Fiona Clarkson. "Now, I've got to rescue Doctor Carpenter. I'll be back."
He strolled around to Carpenter's suite and found the door locked. He knocked hard. "Doctor Carpenter, it's Major Davidson - open up. You're safe."
A voice behind the door yelled. "There was a lot of gunfire. Is it all over?"
"Yes, it's all over. The bad guys are all dead."
"You're sure?"
"Yes. Don't worry, you're safe."
He listened while Carpenter moved furniture away from the door and inserted a key in the lock. Eventually, the door opened slightly and Carpenter exposed one eye. "You're on your own?"
His fear would have been funny in funnier circumstances. "Of course. Open up."
The door swung open and Davidson stepped into the ante-room. He followed Carpenter into the office, and found Fiona Clarkson and Carpenter's secretary standing with their backs against the far wall, braced for death. "Don't worry, you're safe."
Fiona Clarkson's eyes glowed. "You sure?"
"Definitely."
Both left the waiting room of death and started their long journey back to the land of the living.
Carpenter said: "What happened? What was going on?"
"A Freedom Alliance team broke in and tried to blow up the building."
"They're all dead?"
"Yes."
"Thank God."
Davidson was too busy to continue his interview with Fiona Clarkson, who looked almost catatonic anyway. He'd complete it another day. "Can I use your phone?"
"Yes, of course."
He picked up the receiver, phoned Colonel Prentice and told him what had happened. The Colonel said he would be there very soon.
Davidson strolled back to the laboratory. The full impact of taking three lives had not hit him yet. His mind was still focused on handling the aftermath. However, past experience and his trembling hands told him there would be a reckoning.
He found Helen Watkins, standing alone, watching her boss and several other security officers check those shot to make sure they were dead, and search for evidence.
He said: "You OK?"
She spun around, eyes primed with fear and guilt. "Yes, of course. Just shocked."
Until the shootout, he'd pegged her as a pushy career woman loyal to the City. Now he knew she was a traitor. A lot of questions washed through his mind. Why was she working for the Freedom Alliance? When did she start doing that? How much damage had she done? One thing was certain: she gave the Freedom Alliance fighters the fake IDs and swipe card they needed to access the CDC building. She obviously didn't accompany him to the laboratory that morning because she was warned of their attack and expected him to be killed. Big mistake.
However, the big question was whether to denounce her. It was his job to do so. But he was becoming increasingly tired of his job: he was no longer convinced the cause he fought for was just and already regretted killing three FA fighters. He wasn't in the mood to arrest and torture a woman he'd got to know and was starting to like.
It also occurred to him that, until he knew what the hell was going on around him, he should keep a few cards up his sleeve. For the moment, he would let her run and monitor where she went; he would attach an invisible string to her that he could tug any time he liked.
He said: "I'm not surprised."
She shuddered and looked ready to throw up. "I've shot at lots of targets. That was the first time I've shot at someone."
Davidson couldn't remember the first time he killed someone: it was so many years and deaths ago. "Did he shoot at you?"
A pause. "Umm, no. He was on the ground when I found him. I tried to take him alive." Her face crumpled. "But he reached for a pistol and I had to shoot him."
He was impressed that, despite being under immense stress, she lied so smoothly. "I see."
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Professor Fisher trotted down a flight of stairs wearing a disheveled expression and a smooth lab coat. He made a bee-line for Eric Tanguy who was talking to an underling. Davidson and Watkins sidled over to hear what they said.
The Professor stumbled over a blood-soaked corpse, recoiled and glared at Tanguy as if he was to blame. "What the hell happened? Who broke in?"
"Freedom Alliance fighters."
"They're all dead?"
"Yes, all five, and five of my men."
The Professor offered no commiserations. "Why did they attack us? What did they want?"
"Looks like they wanted to plant a bomb."
"A bomb? You'd better explain what happened."
Tanguy explained how the Freedom Alliance team appeared in the laboratory and shot it out with Davidson and several security officers. He then took the Professor over to the corpse of the intruder outside the Vaccine Storage Area. "Major Davidson shot this guy. He has about ten kilos of plastic explosives in his pack. That's enough to destroy the whole storage area and most of the building."
The Professor looked shocked and edged away from the corpse. "My God. Are we safe? Will the explosives go off?"
"No, one of my men removed the detonators."
"Thank God." The Professor frowned. "But you haven't explained how five heavily armed subversives with high-explosives got into this building ..."
Tanguy lost some color. "Umm, they entered in a sanitation truck using fake IDs. Then they used a swipe card to enter the rear of the building. One of my men saw, on a surveillance monitor, that they had rifles. He set off the alarm."
"How did they get the IDs and the card?"
"That's something I've got to investigate."
"Make sure you do." The Professor frowned and turned to Davidson. "Thank you for your help. Without you, we'd probably all be dead."
A shrug. "Just doing my job. Helen Watkins downed one of the intruders and a security officer got another. They were all very brave."
The Professor turned to Watkins. "Thank you, Helen - well done."
She nodded and was barely audible. "Just doing my job."
Davidson looked at the Professor. "Any idea why they would want to destroy the storage area?"
A shrug. "Not really. That's where we keep our vaccines while they're tested and before they're distributed. Maybe they wanted to disrupt Immunization Week, which starts in a few days; or maybe they wanted to show they can strike anywhere in the City - this was really an attack on our morale."
Davidson found neither explanation convincing. "Maybe."
The elevator doors opened. Colonel Prentice steamed into the laboratory with the beautifully coiffed and groomed figure of Captain Tony Delray striding behind him. Their stark ISB uniforms attracted a lot of stares. They crossed the laboratory, casually noting the corpses on the floor.
The Colonel smiled at the Professor. "Hello, Ted."
The Professor looked surprised. "Robert - what are you doing here?"
"Major Davidson phoned and told me what happened. I called the Chancellor and told him. He was very concerned to hear about a major security breach at a vital institution. He ordered me to assess the situation and make sure nothing is, umm, swept under the rug. He expects you will give me whatever assistance I need."
Davidson enjoyed watching the masterful way Prentice threw his weight around. While Prentice did that, "Captain Handsome" stood behind him looking handsome.
The Professor nodded dumbly. "Of course."
"Good. I understand there were five intruders, all accounted for?"
"Yes. In fact, your Major Davidson killed three."
A shrug. "As I would expect. So tell me: how did they get in?"
The Professor took a half-step back. "I've just discussed that with my Chief Security Officer, Eric Tanguy. He can explain."
Tanguy obviously saw his job and pension circling a drain, and shifted on his feet so quickly he was almost dancing. The reckless teenager Davidson knew in the Air Cavalry was a distant memory.
Slowly and haltingly, Tanguy repeated what he told the Professor.
Prentice's eyes launched a nuclear strike. "Fake IDs? A swipe card?"
"Yes."
"Jesus. How the hell did they get them?"
"That's something, umm, I've got to find out."
"They must have had inside help."
"That's possible."
"It's certain. You'd better find the rat."
"I will."
"Good."
Davidson was again half-tempted to reveal that Helen Watkins was the rat, but bit his tongue. He'd keep that card up his sleeve.
The Colonel looked around. "Alright, I want Major Davidson to tell me what happened. The rest of you are free to go if you wish."
The Professor fidgeted. "I'm going back to my office. If you need any help, let me know."
"I will."
The Professor strode off, leaving his Chief and Deputy Chief Security Officers behind.
The Colonel looked at Davidson. "Alright, Carl - what happened?"
Davidson spent ten minutes strolling around the laboratory, describing how the firefight unfolded, while the other four trailed behind. Then he took them to see the corpse of the FA fighter who Helen Watkins shot. When they reached it, Prentice got her to describe exactly what happened. With a gaunt expression, she reported, in a clipped fashion, how she found the wounded fighter on his back. "He reached for his pistol and ... and I had to shoot him."
The Colonel nodded. "Smart move. No point taking any risks."'
The last stop on their tour was the corpse of the intruder shot in front of the Vaccine Storage Area. He lay on his stomach and still wore the backpack containing explosives.
The Colonel said. "You've disconnected the explosives?"
Tanguy said: "Yes."
"Roll him over."
Tanguy rolled over the corpse, exposing the regular features of a man in his thirties.
"Jesus," Prentice and Davidson said in unison.
Tanguy frowned. "What?"
Prentice said: "That is Captain Zorro. He ranked third or fourth in the Freedom Alliance chain of command. We've never killed someone as high-ranking as him. Why would they send someone like him on a mission like this?" Prentice pointed at the sign above the door. "You store vaccines in there?"
"Yes. They're manufactured on the second floor and stored in that area while they're quality tested. Then they're distributed throughout the City. There are millions of ampoules in there."
"What would happen if it was destroyed?"
"I guess we'd have to delay Immunization Week for several months while new vaccines - particularly a new seasonal flu vaccine - were manufactured."
"I see." Prentice glanced at Tanguy and Watkins. "Alright. Thank you for your help. I now want to have a private discussion with Major Davidson, so please leave us - though don't go far; I won't be long."
They nodded and wandered off, leaving Colonel Prentice and Captain Delray with Davidson.
Davidson realized this was his last chance to expose Watkins as a traitor. If he didn't do it now and tried to do it later, he would attract suspicion. Despite that, he couldn't bring himself to spill the beans.
The Colonel turned to Davidson. "You think the purpose of the attack was to destroy the vaccines in that area?"
"It looks like it. I can't think of another one."
"But that makes no sense."
Delray interjected. "Why not, sir?"
"It's a minor objective. I can't believe that the Freedom Alliance really cares whether Immunization Week starts in a few days' time or a few months' time. There is no way it would have sent a senior commander and a highly-experienced team on a suicide mission - because that is what this was - to achieve that goal. It must have had another - bigger - purpose."
Davidson considered repeating Professor Fisher's theory that the Freedom Alliance wanted to demonstrate its ability to strike anywhere in the City, and decided not to. It was
a silly theory. The Alliance wouldn't send a top team on a suicide mission to achieve that goal either. "Maybe, like many things in life, this attack was a big cock-up."
Prentice smiled. "That's possible." He watched a couple of police forensic technicians get out of an elevator and sighed. "Anyway, whatever the purpose of the attack, it's very embarrassing for the ISB."
Davidson said: "Why?"
"An elite Freedom Alliance team penetrated deep inside this City and attacked an important institution, and we knew nothing about it. Thank God you stopped them. Otherwise, I'd have had to resign. Hell, I still might have to." He smiled. "However, fortunately, right now the Chancellor wants to declare victory and put a positive spin on the attack."
"How?"
"For a start, he wants to give you a medal. I told him how one of my officers single-handedly fought off the attack and he said you should be decorated."
"Really?"
"Yes. He's going to hold a press conference at 11 a.m. to announce the defeat of a dastardly Freedom Alliance attack and give you, and anyone else I care to name, a medal."
"What sort of medal?"
"The Chancellor's Medal of Valor, of course."
That was the highest award for bravery the City bestowed. There were only about twenty living recipients. Davidson felt a mixture of deep skepticism and childish glee. "Who else will get one? You?"
The Colonel pondered that and shook his head. "No, I've already got one. Getting another - particularly when I wasn't even here - would look rather greedy, don't you think?"
Delray looked agitated. "I'd love to get one, Boss."
The Colonel laughed and shook his head. "Sorry, Tony. I know you'd look wonderful with a big medal on your chest but, if you want one, you'll have to earn it the old-fashioned way - with bravery. Anyway, I'm sure you don't want to earn one on the cheap."
Captain Handsome's expression said he did. "I'm not fussy."
"Well, I am."
"You could nominate Officer Watkins. She shot one of the intruders."
Davidson realized that Delray, the envious bastard, didn't want him to be the sole recipient of a medal.
However, the Colonel frowned and shook his head. "No, I won't do that. On reflection, I think the ISB should get all of the glory for forestalling this attack, don't you?" He glanced at his watch. "Like I said, the press conference is at 11 a.m. We've got about 60 minutes to get to the Chancellor's Palace. We'd better get moving."
The three ISB officers wandered over to where Watkins and Tanguy stood chatting.
The Colonel said: "We're heading for the Chancellor's Palace. In an hour, the Chancellor is going to hold a press conference to announce that the City has foiled a Freedom Alliance attack and give Major Davidson here a medal."
Tanguy frowned. "You mean, no medal for any of my officers?"
Prentice frowned. "Not my decision I'm afraid. That's the Chancellor's call."
"Helen should get a medal, at least."
She shook her head. "I don't want one."
Tanguy looked surprised. "You don't?"
Watkins spoke with surprising urgency. "No, I don't deserve an award. I didn't do anything special. I just did my job."
She was a traitor who was forced to shoot a Freedom Alliance fighter to prevent him being captured. So Davidson wasn't surprised she didn't want to be awarded the City's highest medal. Indeed, it was deeply ironic that he would receive a medal, despite knowing of her treachery and saying nothing.
Prentice looked at Watkins. "I admire your modesty. Time for us to go."