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Oscar
Oscar
Oscar
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Oscar

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The story opens with panoramic scenes of Richard Blast making his way through the dense Thai jungle to destroy a secret airfield. Captured before being able place the explosives, he is murdered by Tanaka, the Chinese operative responsible for the construction of the airfield and the evil conspiracy that threatens all of mankind.

Robert Tokor, Assistant Director of the CIA, learns of Richard's death in a hastily called meeting in Langley. Oddly enough, Director Byrd allows Jonah, the Israeli Director to inform Robert via video conference. Robert's temper flares as he swears vengeance on those responsible. The same day Director Byrd gives in to Robert and allows him to proceed with bringing Oscar on line, a so-called new system Robert had been perfecting since 2008. Robert and a select few comrades from Langley jet away to a secret mountain installation hidden within the Cherokee National Forest.

Ms. Reed, Robert's leading lady, is at first skeptical of Oscar. Oscar appears to the Langley group in the form of a grandfatherly Roman Senator complete with toga and sandals. Oscar is forced to demonstrate his unusual capabilities, conjuring up other images and offering intimate details into the lives of some of the group which ordinarily even the CIA would not know or have access to.

Within hours Oscar's investigation is underway. Bits and pieces of the conspiracy begin to appear. Ms. Reed remains at the new facility with Oscar while Robert and a select assembly of commandos disembark to visit first hand the Thai airfield.

Their raid is successful. All but one Iraqi soldier was killed while guarding the secret Chinese airfield. During the interrogation being performed by Robert and his men US Navy Tomcats swarm in and destroy what's left of the field, killing their only prisoner in the process. Robert and his men find themselves in bewilderment, seemingly targeted by their own forces.

Robert brings up and image of Oscar there in the jungle and learns that an unknown super computer had invaded Langley and the Pentagon and that it was responsible for the strike. Reluctantly, Robert allows choppers from the Enterprise to rescue them, the same carrier that launched the Tomcats.

Robert is at first hostile towards Captain Reichenback. He explains to all within hearing distance there on the bridge that they had found Iraqis guarding a base in Thailand. Only when Robert brings up Oscar as an exact duplicate of the Captain and allows Oscar to forcefully take over the entire battle group do the sailors begin to understand and admit that Robert and Oscar must know something they don't.

Back at the base Oscar and Tami (Ms. Reed) continue with the investigation. Tami begins to understand just how powerful and omnipotent Oscar really is. They become friends of sorts.

Robert is paranoid of everyone. The Director isn't himself. Jonah, the Israeli Director seems to be withholding information.

Oscar and Tami contact Robert and explain that Oscar has discovered a super computer called Armageddon is responsible for the air strike and that the Chinese probably created the computer.

Oscar's investigation then directs Robert and his men to a pharmaceutical plant near Tokyo. It is learned that the Chinese operative, Tanaka, controlled the production of a genetic polymer created by the Japanese scientists against their will. The substance was being transported to the airfield in Thailand to be dispersed around the globe by a C-130 rigged with spray equipment.

Before leaving Tokyo, Robert meets Gloria Yakmir, Jonah's stepdaughter. She convinces Robert to take her along to Washington to inform President Bratcher directly as to what they think is going on.

Tami and Gloria meet during the meeting with the President, both jealous of the other. Robert explains his theory to the President. He theorizes, with Oscar's assistance, in the form of Abraham Lincoln, that the Chinese plan is to systematically eliminate all HIV carriers

LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateMar 18, 2001
ISBN9781493169580
Oscar
Author

Don Kinkade

The author is a forty-two year old professional timber buyer living in the heart of hardwood country in west-central Kentucky. He resides on three hundred acres near Leitchfield with his wife and eighteen year old daughter. A son, twenty, attends Samford University in Birmingham and is working towards a law degree. A love of the land and all things natural in the great outdoors have over the years lured the author to remain connected with the environment. Interests include conservation-minded farming, amateur archaeology, ancient history and philosophical discussions of the universe. The author is a member of Longridge Writer's Group and aspires to write several novels that will offer alternative answers to age-old, misguided concepts our civilization sometimes labels laws of physics.

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    Oscar - Don Kinkade

    CHAPTER 1

    Richard’s coarsely treaded government issue boots dug viciously into the soggy mush of the Thai jungle floor. The all-night deluge had made each step a noisy one and he knew his pace was much quicker than his usual haltering, take-a-few-steps-and-scan routine used on most CIA missions. Time was his enemy now and he felt a certain degree of justifica-tion for his swiftness, knowing all the while this particular mission possessed the potential not only to destroy him, but everyone he held dear back in the real world.

    Rain droplets gathered on elephant-ear sized leaves high above and fell with such cumulative force that he was certain the noise would all but, drown out his own rustle. He had to risk it. Who would be out in this anyway? Time and again he repeated it to himself until he wished he could remove the nagging thought from his mind, much like the hook line of a favorite new tune that just wouldn’t be silenced.

    A parting of the canopy of trees ahead told him the clearing lay exactly where the cowardly guides said it would, just before they hightailed it back towards the village they’d skirted a few kilometers to the south. Instinc-tively, he knelt and peered from still a hundred yards out, his head carefully scanning the terrain like a slowly rotat-ing tank turret searching for its next target. Then, long moments passed as all movement ceased and he froze in place searching straight ahead, keenly alert to any unnatural sounds coming from the jungle. Damp fingers played back and forth between the safety and trigger of the scaled-down M-16, milliseconds away from action.

    Booby traps. The last hundred yards was where they lived, waiting patiently, daring not to be disturbed. They were there to annihilate unwanted guests, there to do the work of dozens of sleepy-eyed sentries. They were depend-able. The infrared goggles fit snugly over his face and with the flip of a switch were activated as he flowed forward into an inch-by-inch crawl, methodically searching for the tell-tale beams that should be crisscrossing the trail leading to the clearing.

    Too easy. No booby traps. Finally, he was at the edge of the airfield. Zero activity. One slow tug on the goggles and he was back in the world of color at last.

    With a pace that would make a snail ashamed, Richard’s left hand released the forearm of the M-16 and slid down alongside his body to retrieve the rubber-coated 10X Nikon binoculars from a flapped pocket just above his waist. His elbows dug into the soft earth as he tried to prop himself up just enough from a belly-down position to carefully inspect the airfield in every minute detail.

    Commingling shades of greens and grays, just like the Smokies, he whispered, as his internal computer filed every bit of data his eyes gathered. One small, tin shed with one personnel door and no windows. One big, ugly, C-130 cargo plane with no markings. No signs of life.

    Silently, he rolled over on his back and laid the binoculars on his chest, his blue eyes staring skyward through the trees as if pondering the movement of the rain clouds hurrying past. He tried not to blink as the ever-present droplets pelted his face. He sighed and breathed a few deep breaths.

    Shit. I’m too late. They’re done with this field. Dozens of mosquitoes hovered menacingly over his face, zeroed in on his scent, threatening to dive low and soak their pointy weapons into the soft tissue around his eyes. If only I could have told Robert, this would all be over by now. Too late for this Seal to feel sorry for itself.

    In an instant, Richard rolled and came swiftly to his knees and faced the airfield with a renewed sence of urgency, his hands busily preparing a packet of C-4 and the detonator. He’d done this in total darkness a thousand times and didn’t have to look at it to know he was doing it right, his eyes still trained on the airfield.

    Still no signs of life. Within his mind he envisioned every step he’d make during the next sixty seconds after bailing from the security of the jungle to swing across and around behind the big cargo plane to plant the charge where he knew the fuel tanks were. He’d be hundreds of yards back inside the jungle before the sound of the explosion reached his ears.

    That’s when the feeling hit him. The feeling a man must feel half a second before the hangman trips the lever to hurl a condemned man downward. The feeling a man gets when a policeman knocks at the door and informs him his wife was just killed in a car versus train accident. His stomach knotted in an instant when he heard that terrible, sickening sound, the crisp, clean, metallic sound of a safety being pushed into the off position.

    Richard slowly turned his head just enough to allow his peripheral vision to tell him that Tanaka had leveled a pistol at his head less than three feet behind him.

    I warned you, Mr. Blast, whispered Tanaka in his usual, coarse voice, a sinister smirk forming on his face.

    Richard’s heart pounded. There didn’t seem to be a way out of this one. You gave me no choice, you bastard.

    One always has a choice, Mr. Blast.

    Richard peered skyward and smiled, noticing shafts of sunlight penetrated the canopy above and that the rain was over. Robert will be coming for you. He doesn’t have a family for you to blackmail.

    Tanaka’s face tensed. The smirk was gone. Say good-bye, Mr. Blast.

    Richard fell to his knees and slumped forward as the bullet shattered the bones through the back of his neck. Tanaka pushed him aside and rolled him over on his back to find his penetrating blue eyes following his every move, blood gushing from his throat. Richard was paralyzed from the neck down and was choking on his own blood.

    Tanaka smiled as he calmly reset the timer and placed the packet of C-4 on Richard’s groin. I’ll say hello to Robert for you… and your young daughter.

    Richard closed his eyes as he listened to Tanaka’s footsteps fade away.

    CHAPTER 2

    Robert’s jaw flexed sporadically as he inspected the driver of nearly every vehicle that happened to be alongside him in the heavier-than-usual traffic jam. Why, he wondered, didn’t the lady in the Volvo, that was busy applying mascara and electric-blue lip stick get up just a few minutes earlier and create her face at home?

    Not-so-subtle pressures brought on through being the Assistant Director of the CIA and the necessity of his living in close proximity to Langley, Virginia put him on edge about this time every day. Most of his thirty-eight years had subjected him to various rigors and disciplines of military life, but he still possessed those instinctive, laid-back qualities he’d learned as a child in a rural, mountain setting. He watched the lady brush her hair.

    Tami Reed crept into his thoughts as he pulled up to the gate, causing a slight smile. He hadn’t had time or the desire to marry and settle down, but now sensed his bachelor days might be in short supply.

    Good morning, Mr. Tokor, said the guard as he bent low to examine the badge from outside the half rolled down window. I’m afraid she was here first again today, sir.

    Oh no. Robert released the steering wheel and thrust his hands upward while shaking his head back and forth. What’s the score?

    The guard glanced at the clipboard and smiled. Two zip. One more day and you’ve lost another week to her.

    Robert eyed the creases on the guard’s shirt that looked like they must have been pressed by a steam roller. Couldn’t you just switch our times around once in a while?

    The guard lowered the clipboard to his side and stiffened to attention. Sir, you wouldn’t expect me to relax strict company policy for your personal gain, would you, sir?

    No, she’s too smart for that anyway.

    Robert noticed the movement of the security cameras as he made his way into the lot that had the space with his name on it. A tiny grin spread across his face, knowing she was up there watching him on the screens, recording exactly the time of his arrival so to more accurately detail the schedule she had to circumvent on a daily basis. He didn’t really mind that she almost always won the little game they played. Either way, the outcome was about the same.

    Good Morning, Geneva. Look, it’s really me! he said, walking up to the middle-aged lady with silver hair checking identifications just inside the full glass doors.

    You don’t have to show your badge to me, Robert Tokor. I’d recognize that tall, lean build of yours anywhere. She straightened her skirt, still holding Robert’s gaze like a sixteen-year-old wallflower at a high school prom. You haven’t forgotten about that night out on the town you promised me, have you?

    Robert winked and glanced around the cavernous entrance, pretending to be preparing to share something very confidential with her. As long as George doesn’t mind, we’ll do the town, he whispered into her ear with all the charm she and the other ladies in the building had grown to admire so much.

    With a smile, she quickly waved the metal detector between Robert’s legs and alongside his torso. Soon as he passes out in the recliner, I’ll slip out and call you.

    I’ll be waiting on edge.

    His open office door and the steam wafting lazily above his desk told him that Tami had placed his coffee there only seconds before when she saw the elevator coming up and was even now about to emerge from the ladies room with a fresh dose of her familiar rose fragrance.

    One more and it’s my choice, she said as she opened the door with perfect timing, coming face-to-face with him just long enough for the scent to overtake him before proceeding to her desk. Then, she’d play the game of having a lot of work to do at the desk where she’d also pretend to ignore him.

    Ordinarily he would wink at her, go to his office, fetch the cup of coffee and read the reports that had also been placed there by other members of the staff. Instead, he followed her to her desk and leaned over very close to her face and whispered, Either way, I win.

    A tiny grin escaped her crimson lips. Just remember the rules of engagement. The winner is the master and the loser is the slave. She picked up a manila file and began leafing through it. You’ll do everything I demand of you. Her tongue circled her lips as she pretended to busily read the contents of the file. If by chance you ever win, you’ll have that luxury.

    Robert loved what she was saying and how she was saying it. He loved her positive, sexy attitude that overflowed with confidence.

    Thanks for the coffee, he said, seeing that it was over for now, winking as he caught a final glance from her before turning back towards his office.

    Robert’s thoughts quickly shifted to the routine that he’d carelessly allowed himself to slip into. His timing was becoming so predictable that his staff was now able to provide him with a hot cup of coffee a few seconds prior to his arrival. What other notes were they keeping on him and what about foreign operatives? They could be doing the same. He made a decision then and there to purposefully disrupt his schedule and make it quite a bit more difficult for anyone to pattern his movements. Many a good man had been lost because of the ability of the opposition to pattern ones habits, knowing when to be where.

    Robert stood for a moment and eyed the reports, reading tiny bits from each as he sipped the coffee. It was his job to decide if anything had been learned during the night that was interesting enough for the company to direct its full attention to. Nothing on the satellite photos. Nothing very interesting anywhere. The few isolated conflicts scattered around the globe seemed to be normal. Robert recognized the knock at the door as that of the director’s, two quick taps.

    Director Byrd’s eyes remained glued to the carpet, evading contact with Robert’s. No expression whatsoever. None of the usual good morning chitchat. Call the group together, Robert. We’ll meet in five minutes. He was gone as suddenly as he’d appeared.

    Robert’s jaw tensed as he lifted his sleeve to note the time. He straightened the files and touched the intercom switch. Tami, assemble the group and have them in the dark room in four minutes, please. Something’s up.

    Yes, sir, came the reply.

    Then, remembering he’d just vowed to change his routines, he tossed the files haphazardly onto the desk and left them where they lay, scattered here and there. He knew some of the staff would see the mess and reorganize it, but he knew he would make them wonder why he’d left it that way.

    He glanced in at Tami and raised his eyebrows as if to ask her if she knew what was going on, only to see her shrug and do the same while shaking her head and talking on the phone. Her shoulder-length, dark brunet hair shimmered in the office light as her head moved back and forth. Robert knew every curve of her flawless face.

    One by one they joined him as he made his way down the hallway towards the soundproof room they used for staff meetings. Some had reports tucked under their arms or papers in their hands while others, like himself, were empty-handed. All greeted Robert in some way as their eyes met, some nodding and saying good morning, sir.

    Robert quickly surmised that Director Byrd must have gone directly to the room after ordering him to assemble the group because he was already there, sitting in his usual place waiting for the meeting to begin. Robert studied every face as the others entered and seated themselves, comparing each successive expression with that of the apparently worrisome look the director displayed. Conclusion number one had been cast; no one knew what was up except the director.

    Scenes flashed through Robert’s mind of similar times when they filled the room and learned of troubles somewhere in the world, requiring them to act or prompt someone else to act, as was their usual way.

    In silence they waited for Tami and Barney, the two remaining members of the group not present. Robert eyed his boss and noticed beads of sweat forming on his forehead, still denying all but the slightest amount of direct eye contact. Innate glances from the others betrayed them, revealing that they too felt the enormous tension within the room.

    Enough was enough. So, what’s up? he finally asked the director, knowing what his answer would be before asking.

    Director Byrd shook his head with an expressionless face, the held up a hand towards Robert as if he were stopping traffic at a crosswalk. You’ll be briefed sufficiently when the others find time to join our meeting, he grumbled.

    A slight smirk escaped Robert’s face, although he had a great deal of respect for Director Byrd, even though it was sometimes obvious that he intentionally tried to test and aggravate the old man. Robert was raised to always respect elders, or even supervisors, as was the case here. He considered Director Byrd a mentor of sorts even though he privately amused himself with Byrd’s appearance every time he thought about how much he resembled the old guy that used to do the oatmeal commercials many years ago. Robert wondered if Byrd might be subconsciously trying to imitate the actor. Both had the problem of being somewhat overweight, which was natural enough, but the mustache and the exact same wire-rimmed glasses did tend to make them suspiciously appear as though they might have been twins separated at birth.

    Byrd raised his arm dramatically and peered at his watch when Tami and Barney finally came through the door to fill the two remaining seats. Punctuality and precision were two traits the director demanded of the staff and rarely allowed anyone to slop by. Tami avoided his constant stare.

    Director Byrd stood and cleared his throat, his left hand nervously jingling loose change within his trouser pocket. I’ve just received word from the Israeli Director, Mr. Jonah, that’s not good at all and in fact will be quite hard for some of you to deal with. He hesitated, reluctant to proceed, glancing at Robert from the corner of his eye. I still have Jonah on the line and rather than give you secondhand information, have decided to put him on the screen and let him go over this with you himself. He stared at the floor for a few seconds, then whispered, Ms. Reed, would you please activate the screen?

    Yes, sir, she answered, turning halfway around in her chair, reaching for the controls located behind her near the bottom of a four-by-four high definition screen built into the wall.

    Almost instantly an image of yet another older man with white, neatly trimmed hair and a deeply tanned, leathery face became visible, sitting patiently, silently preparing to conduct the meeting from his side of the planet. All the staff repositioned themselves towards the screen. It seemed Jonah was nearly there in the room with them.

    We’re ready now, shouted Byrd, speaking louder than necessary as if Jonah might not be able to hear him very well.

    Yes, yes, I can see and hear you as well, Director Byrd. Jonah’s eyes began a methodical survey of the eight inhabitants of the meeting, circling the room, spending just a few seconds with each face. His English was slow and halting, disguised with a heavy Middle-Eastern accent.

    We’re ready, Jonah. We can hear you and the picture is perfect, said Byrd, nervously stroking his beard.

    Very well. I will get straight to the matter. Jonah paused and quickly reviewed the information on the reports in his hands one last time. In the past thirty-six hours Israeli operatives have learned one of your people has most likely been murdered in the northern Thai jungle. I believe our reports to be accurate. Jonah’s eyes fell directly on Robert. The man’s name is Richard Blast.

    No, no, no, that can’t be. Robert got up and quickly approached the screen. You’ve made a terrible mistake, Mr. Jonah. Richard Blast is based in Tokyo and he’s not even on assignment. He checks in with me almost every day. Your information has to be wrong… somewhere.

    Jonah seemed to be expecting Robert’s denial, calmly sitting and waiting for a chance to continue. I am sorry to have to present you with such sorrowful news, Robert. We know how close you and Richard Blast were.

    You’re wrong, damn it, you’re wrong. Robert’s voice seemed less certain than seconds before.

    We took extra measures to be certain about this. Our information is correct. I am deeply sorry. Jonah didn’t attempt to answer Robert’s comments about Richard’s whereabouts, obviously not wanting to make it appear that Robert didn’t know what all his men were up to all of the time.

    Robert fell back down in the chair and became mesmerized by the brilliant wood grain patterns of the table. Instinctively, thoughts of revenge and anger formed in his mind as well as panoramic visions of hundreds of days and nights he and Richard had spent together over the last twenty odd years. They were like brothers and had saved each others life more than once. He silently vowed to himself then and there not to rest until those responsible paid with their lives.

    Director Byrd cleared his throat, prompting Robert to snap out of it, if he could. Robert’s eyes found Byrd’s and detected the slightest nod from his old friend.

    Please proceed, Mr. Jonah. Tell us what happened, pleaded Robert.

    Jonah read a few more lines of the reports before looking back out into the group.

    We’ve had operatives in and around Thailand, as you are well aware, for quite some time, in hopes of monitoring the escalating situation with the Chinese. Your Mr. Blast, that incidentally was supposed to be working out of Tokyo, ventured into Thailand on the trail of some kind of lead. Our operatives observed him there several times. Mr. Blast confided in our people to a degree and allowed them to assist him, although they never learned exactly what he was trying to find out or who he was after. We have reason to suspect a possible biological problem.

    Cut to the chase, damn it, and tell me who killed Richard! shouted Robert, coming to his feet once again.

    Robert you’re out of line. Sit down and allow Jonah to finish, demanded Byrd, seeing that Robert was unnerving the rest of the group with his lack of self control.

    Tami grasped Robert’s hand and silently urged him to sit.

    Robert examined the concerned faces around the table and understood instantly the disturbing effect he was having on the staff, including Tami. He knew his emotional response to the situation must have left them all wondering about his state of mind and fitness for duty. Slowly, he calmed the anger and allowed the years of training under pressure to take over.

    I’m sorry, sir, he said to Byrd. Then turning to Jonah, I apologize Mr. Jonah, it’s just that Richard and I were… Robert removed his tie and tossed it onto the conference table and sat down, staring once again into the table.

    Don’t be concerned with apologizing to me, Robert. I told you from the beginning that we knew about your close relationship with Mr. Blast, still yet, this had to be done. Jonah was making every effort to be as compassionate with Robert as possible.

    Please continue, sir. I’m sorry. Robert’s voice was low keyed and subdued. His eyes still studied the table, his mind racing.

    Our people questioned the guides Mr. Blast hired to take him into the jungle after they returned without him. They said he never made it back to the prearranged location where he told the guides to wait." Jonah paused, looking to Byrd, wondering if he should proceed with all the details.

    Is that it? asked Byrd, knowing there certainly was more, forcing him to continue.

    One of the guides finally admitted to following Mr. Blast on to the edge of a huge clearing that had recently been carved from the jungle. There the guide claims to have witnessed Mr. Blast being shot from behind and moments later blown to bits by an explosion. Jonah wiped his forehead with his hand and paused for several moments.

    At least it was painless, whispered Robert, still peering into the table, studying all that he had heard.

    What about the clearing, Jonah? asked Byrd.

    We think it’s a base, possibly an airfield. Jonah watched Byrd’s reaction carefully, his concern definitely no longer Robert’s feelings.

    I assume you’ve made no further efforts to determine if something is in fact going on there? asked Byrd hurriedly, nervously flipping his sleeve back to check the time.

    Jonah repositioned himself in his chair while shaking his head back and forth. No, but our people are still in the area on hold. We wanted to inform you of the situation and were in great hopes we could somehow assist you, knowing you will no doubt want to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible.

    Robert looked up long enough to realize that Byrd wasn’t overwhelmed by Jonah’s offer to assist.

    Yes, thank you, Byrd finally managed to say. We’ll start the process of gathering and formulating the information into a workable plan within the next few hours and be back into contact with you. We’ll let you know if we need your people to help, since they are as you say, still in the area and all.

    Robert nudged Tami, directing her to witness Byrd’s newly acquired nervousness, his checking the time every few minutes and the now profuse sweating. He’d never seen anything cause Byrd to sweat.

    I shall await your communication, replied Jonah, his glances now alternating from Robert to Director Byrd and back, almost if he too sensed something strange. Soft static now filled a silent screen as Jonah faded from view. Tami reached for the switch causing complete silence to envelope the room.

    Robert had said no more since the earlier outbursts and was now clearly trying to rationalize all that he’d just seen and heard. Ms. Reed scribbled notes on a yellow legal pad even though the entire conversation had been taped for future use. The others pretended to be busily studying notes, anticipating further orders, perhaps also feeling the tension Robert was detecting from Byrd’s peculiar mood.

    One deep sigh and Robert looked up, seeming ready to proceed. Richard stumbled onto something in Japan that caused him to go to Thailand, he said in a low, unusually sinister voice none of the staff seemed prepared for. Did he share anything with any of you that seemed out of the ordinary, say in the last couple of weeks?

    I’ve got all of Richard’s reports for the past three months here in this file and there’s nothing in here but routine crap. Here, see for yourself, offered Barney, attempting to hand Robert the file, only to have Robert wave it off.

    That’s not necessary, he said. Richard wouldn’t have put it in the routine reports. Robert massaged his forehead and frowned, still confused by the whole thing. I’ll find whoever’s responsible, he said in a low voice as he gripped the edge of the table in front of him.

    Director Byrd remained quiet and listened as they exchanged information, allowing the staff to begin the process of formulating a plan of investigation themselves. Robert sat there thinking to himself, also listening, but certainly noticing that Byrd’s nervousness had subsided considerably, almost as soon as Jonah had dismissed himself from the meeting.

    If I might point out, said Byrd, tapping on the table with his knuckles, interrupting Tami in mid-sentence, trying to explain a point to Barney, while it certainly is of the utmost importance to find Richard’s killer, we must also address the issue of why Richard was killed. Someone definitely wanted him out of the way. Jonah also mentioned a possible biological problem, did he not?

    Silence fell upon the group once again. The director was right. Richard’s murder was surely the secondary problem until they learned what was going on.

    Dozens of scenarios flashed through Robert’s mind’s eye in panoramic detail as he tried to imagine what could have happened. It could be anything. But, Byrd was right. Richard got in someone’s way and they had to take him out. Something was very wrong out there somewhere and they would have to figure out what it was quickly, and hope to find Richard’s killer at the same time.

    Right. Suddenly, Robert seemed to perk up, his eyes rapidly testing the faces of all those at the table with him one at a time. I want to see satellite photos of the Thai jungle of one year ago, six months ago, three months ago, one month ago, and finally every day for the last thirty days. I want to know what’s there that Richard thought important enough to go after without telling me.

    The staff began hurriedly making notes once again. Robert was swinging into action and they could feel it.

    Go back and recheck all electronic surveillance for the region for six months or so. Recheck all military traffic of all sorts, anything out of the ordinary. Check with the Centers for Disease Control and the National Institutes of Health and see if they’re onto anything new. Robert stood up and tossed his hands into the air, waving them wildly. Let’s get moving! Find out what it is that we’ve been overlooking!

    Barney stumbled towards the door, spilling the files. I’ll have the sequence of photos out of the computers in twenty minutes, he said, collecting the scattered papers there all over the floor.

    I won’t be able to process all of the electronic surveillance that quickly, said Tami, glancing at Barney as he slammed the door behind him, but I’ll stay with the boys downstairs and push it as hard as I can. She paused and stared Robert in the eyes with sincere determination on her face. Don’t worry, we’ll find ‘em. We’ll make ‘em pay.

    Don’t push so hard that we miss whatever it is again, said Robert in a cautious tone.

    I’ll be thorough, she replied with a wink.

    The investigation was under way. One by one the staff members excused themselves, intent upon discovering what might have been going on under their noses that caused the death of Robert’s most trusted operative. Robert and his boss sat in silence, alone and free to discuss matters they might not have so openly discussed while in the presence of the others, not that either one mistrusted any member of the staff.

    Robert noticed Byrd still checking the time.

    I’m sorry, Robert, there just wasn’t any other way to tell you about Richard. I know you two have been through a lot together. Byrd’s eyes avoided Robert’s.

    I’m past that now, mumbled Robert. Think no more about it. I understand how it works.

    Both men paused in silence and one of those awkward moments between friends consumed them. Robert suspected Byrd had to know what was going through his mind and that he was just sitting there waiting to argue the point. Perhaps that was what Byrd was so nervous about anyway. It was now or never. He decided in an instant to propose the plan to Byrd and hold nothing back.

    Sir, in light of the situation and all, I think this would be a good time to make the change to the new operational systems I’ve been working on.

    Byrd smiled, having indeed anticipated Robert’s proposal. I was wondering how long it was going to take you to bring up that thing, whatever you call it now.

    Robert held up a hand towards Byrd as if to stop him right there. "I know, you’ve told me hundreds of times how you think it’s a mistake to become reliant on one system, but I still think we

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