12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter twelve
Samantha Gunn had her chair tipped back and a stack of reports in her lap, a small frown creasing her brow.
Her computer monitor showed reports from the small village outside of Belgrade.
Men in pale blue hazmat suits took samples from local water sources while a Kyron at the bottom of the screen tallied the dead.
The casualties had climbed to ninety-seven.
The population of the village, near as Sam could ascertain, was only two-hundred and twelve.
Nearly half the village. Wiped out from a single strain of an as yet unidentified virus.
Thus far all the reports were coming directly out of Serbia, where the sudden illness was headline news. The rest of the world hadn’t caught on, yet. But they would. And soon.
The head of the Romanian desk had come to Sam shortly after lunch to ask if she had any intel on a mysterious outbreak. She’d forwarded everything she had collected so far to him in an email.
Sam’s lunch, a Greek salad from the cafeteria in a clear plastic to-go box, sat mostly untouched on Sam’s desk. She’d eaten the potatoes and the feta cheese, a combination that now haunted her digestive system. The rest she had left.
Cal Halprin, head of the Hungary desk, appeared at Sam’s cubicle.
He had receding hair and one lazy eye that stared off to the left.
The lazy eye precluded Cal from field work, but he was a talented intelligence officer who ran his little corner of the information trade with consummate efficiency.
He could have been running the entire Eastern European section, but Cal mostly refused to play the political game.
His inability to dress himself didn’t help.
Today he’d paired a striped sport coat with a pair of checkered slacks.
He had a printout in one hand and hooked an arm over Sam’s divider wall. He held the page up and asked, “Shelly, right? Have you seen these reports coming out of Belgrade?”
“Samantha. And yes, I’ve seen them.”
“Does Kearns know about this?”
“She knows,” Sam assured him. “I briefed her myself. Yesterday.”
“And?”
“And nothing,” Sam told him. “She doesn’t think it rises to the level of actionable intel.”
This was more or less the same conversation she’d had with the head of the Romanian desk.
Cal frowned and explored a molar with his tongue. “Might be worth keeping tabs on. Can you forward me a brief with anything you’ve got so far?”
Sam moved the stack of reports from her lap onto the desk and opened her email browser. “I’ll send you the same report I sent over to the Romanian desk. It’s more or less up to date.”
“Thanks, Shelly.”
With that Cal, turned and left.
Trevor stuck his head around the divider. “Who’s Shelly?”
“I guess I am,” Sam said.
Trevor turned serious. “This is blowing up fast. Other departments are picking up on it. Pretty soon reports are going to start landing on CNN. Think it’s time to take another run at Kearns?”
Sam shook her head. She’d dealt with people like Kearns before.
Going back to her with the same intelligence would only make the situation worse.
Kearns was a bureaucrat. They hated nothing more than to be proven wrong.
Plus, Sam had a sneaking suspicion youth and looks were playing a factor.
Kearns was middle aged and plain. Some might even call her dumpy.
Sam had overheard Mitchell Nyquist telling Cal Halprin that Kearns had more chins than a Chinese phone book.
Being half Chinese, Sam had found the joke both funny and slightly offensive. It was also true. Kearns was not anyone’s definition of beautiful, and the unfortunate reality was, plain old fashioned jealousy was at work. Kearns didn’t like Sam because she was younger and prettier.
At least, Sam suspected that was the case.
She wondered briefly if that made her vane, or just realistic? Maybe a little of both.
She shook her head. She didn’t have time to ponder those higher questions of self-awareness.
The situation outside Belgrade was evolving rapidly.
By the time Kearns got around to moving her overly large backside into action, CIA would already be behind the proverbial curve and playing catch up.
At some point the president would be asking for information and Sam didn’t want to look like a complete dummy. She needed boots on the ground.
She turned to face Trevor. “How would you feel about a field trip?”
His brows went up. “You serious?”
Sam nodded. “This situation is going to escalate. Whatever happened at the village is not a normal outbreak of the flu. Something went down and pretty soon people bigger than Kearns are going to be asking questions. We either sit on our butts and end up looking like idiots, because Kearns has a giant chip on her shoulder, or we take action. Kearns won’t like it, but at least we’ll be able to say we did the right thing when it mattered. ”
“I’m game.”
“It’s probably going to put us in hot water with Kearns,” Sam warned. “She’s not likely to forget this any time soon.”
Trevor shrugged. “I don’t plan to spend the rest of my life working under Kearns anyway. This is just a temporary stop on my way to Director.”
Sam grinned. “Okay, Director. Then pack a bag. Your next stop is Belgrade.”
“You coming with?”
Sam shook her head. “Someone has to stay here and hold the fort. Hungary and Romania already asked for updates. Bosnia and Montenegro will be along soon. I’m surprised they haven’t come by already. If were both gone, Kearns will know we are up to something. Call me as soon as you land.”
“Will do.” Trevor stood up. “Give my best to Shelly.”