Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Langley, Virginia
Robert Martin drank his coffee, aware that his pulse was still rapid. It had been like that since he’d awoken that morning in what he assumed was a property belonging to the CIA.
I need to be careful. His doctor had warned him to avoid stressful situations.
Escorted onto a plane at midnight, flying to Virginia with two CIA agents, enduring a sleepless night, and then taken in a car to Langley.
All his questions had gone unanswered, to the point where he’d begun to doubt he was really there.
Because if they saw him, then why the hell didn’t they answer?
Hardly conducive to avoiding stress.
The small windowless room in which he found himself wasn’t helping matters either.
He’d never been in an interrogation room, but he’d seen enough on TV to know this was nothing like that.
The walls were white and bare, the floor covered in gray carpet.
The only furniture was a small table and three chairs, one facing the other two.
He couldn’t see any cameras or microphones, and there were no buttons to press in case assistance was required.
Which implied whoever was conducting the interviews was quite capable of dealing with any situation that might arise.
He finished his coffee with a grimace. It was disgusting, but the agent sitting across from him didn’t seem to mind.
I guess you get accustomed to it.
Robert had been there for maybe half an hour, and in that time, all the agent had done was to stare at his phone.
Is this supposed to unbalance me?
A late-night visit from Homeland Security had already achieved that, plus the fact that he had no clue where Michelle was.
The test’s failure didn’t perturb him—there would be other tests.
At least he assumed there would. He also assumed his late-night visitors had been telling the truth.
For all he knew, the test had gone off without a hitch, and everything they’d said had been a pack of lies.
Michelle’s continued absence sent a current of fear coursing through him that he couldn’t ignore.
Dammit, I want answers.
He cleared his throat.
“How long must I sit here?”
The agent glanced up from his phone and gave him a pleasant smile. “We’re waiting for someone. He won’t be long.”
Hallelujah, a response.
Then he stilled.
Waiting for who? Someone high up in the CIA?
He heard footsteps, and a moment later, the door opened. A distinguished-looking man entered, and Robert straightened.
This was Someone.
He wore a dark blue suit, white shirt, and matching blue tie. His hair was peppered with gray, and Robert put his age somewhere in his fifties. The agent stood for the visitor, relinquishing his seat.
The man smiled. “Thank you, Agent Golding. I’ll take it from here.” His voice was low and even, with only the slightest midwestern twang. He waited until the door closed before leaning back in his chair, the poster boy for relaxed.
“Professor Martin, do you know why you’re here?”
“All your men told me was to pack a bag and accompany them.”
He arched his eyebrows. “They weren’t my men.”
Robert’s racing heartbeat sent pains shooting through his chest. “You… you’re not with the CIA?” Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. The agents who’d escorted him had been professional, poised and cool.
This guy was ice.
“Let us say I’m employed by the US government. You can address me as Mr. Price.”
Robert couldn’t wait another minute.
“Mr. Price, where is my wife?”
“She’s safe. In fact, she’s here in this building. I’ll have her brought to you.” He inclined his head toward the door. “Agent Golding?” It opened, and the agent stood in the doorway. “We’re ready for Mrs. Martin to join us now.”
“Yes, sir.” Agent Golding disappeared from view.
Price leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table. “Our conversation can wait. You both need to hear what I have to say.”
Yet another move to unbalance him, undoubtedly.
It was working.
Robert’s pulse was still way too fast, and he knew fear to be the cause.
Footsteps again, and he lurched to his feet when Michelle entered, wearing pale gray sweats. Her eyes widened, and she hurried over to him. He clung to her, his heart hammering.
“I was so worried,” he murmured, his face pressed into her hair. She tilted her head, her hand cupped his cheek, and he kissed her on the lips.
“Professor, Mrs. Martin, please, take a seat.”
Robert was reluctant to let go of her, but he nodded. He pulled out a chair, and she sat. He retook his seat, covering her hand with his under the table.
Price leaned back once more. “Professor, you’re about to announce your retirement—and your resignation from Harvard Medical School.”
He’d expected as much. They could hardly let him continue with his work, not once this got out.
“I’m not under arrest, am I? No one has read me my rights.”
Price’s dark eyes gleamed.
“You are guilty of preparing and executing an act of international terrorism which—if it had been successful—would have had far-reaching consequences.”
Then his visitors had told the truth after all.
Price flashed a cold smile. “But if we tried every such person, the courts would never be empty. Most of those people are useful idiots. You, Professor Martin, are just useful.” He leaned toward them, hands clasped once more.
“So now there are two possible outcomes. We throw the full weight of the law at you, which will lead to a high-profile case and probably prison for as many years as you have left on this earth, or… you work with us.”
Robert stared at him. “With you? Or for you?”
Price blinked. “Oh, come now, Professor. We all work for someone. Our team can always use a new member. And while you weren’t successful this time, we will ensure your next tests provide you with all the data you require.”
“Now wait a minute.” Michelle glared at him. “How can you tell if the test wasn’t successful? It’s too early to see results. That will take weeks.”
Price gave her a sympathetic glance before directing his attention to Robert. “As you can see, we haven’t informed your wife that the pathogen was not deployed.”
“But I released it,” she protested. “Just like we planned.”
“No, you didn’t.” Price spoke in a firm voice, as though speaking to a child.
“What you both have to understand is that there was never any chance of success for your plan. We simply needed to see the breadth of your organization—and how far you were prepared to go. For all we knew, you’d made the pathogen, modified it, and released it on different continents already. ”
Robert frowned. “You set me up to fail?”
Price looked him in the eye. “Permit me to be blunt? Your device was crude, Professor, both in concept and construction.” Robert opened his mouth to protest, but Price held up his hand.
“That was to be expected. Your talents lie in the development of useful tools. Our talents lie in the use of said tools. You work with us, and we will ensure the next delivery system matches the brilliance of the pathogen.”
Robert swallowed. “My motivations were altruistic. Yours are nefarious.”
Price chuckled. “Come now. You follow one path up the mountain, we follow another, but we all reach the summit. And we would ensure the path is a pleasant one.” He relaxed in his chair.
“We have a… facility, located in Colorado. It’s in a truly beautiful setting, but far enough away from prying eyes to be safe.
We will provide you with a new home for your…
retirement, conveniently placed for a commute to this facility. ”
Michelle’s breathing hitched. “You want us to move?”
He nodded. “A new life. As far as your family is concerned, you’ve chosen that location to enjoy the clean air, to get away from all the stresses of city life. They’ll be able to visit you—it won’t be a prison, Professor, but you won’t be able to tell them what you’re really doing out there.”
“And if I say no?”
Price folded his arms. “As I said, you don’t have many options open to you.” He paused. “Professor Martin, you are unique, inasmuch that you have a burning desire to effect change in this world. You also have the mechanism to achieve that change.”
Robert was under no illusions. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t there to help Robert achieve his goal.
He hid his real objectives behind a polite facade, but Robert saw through it.
They wanted him to develop pathogens that would be deployed—maybe even on US soil—to effect regime change, destabilization.
And money lay at the root of it, not the reduction of the world’s population.
Does he think I’m that stupid? The US government doesn’t want to create a stable Utopia—it wants to create a world where the USA is the top dog.
Then Price sighed, and in that moment he seemed more human. “I do understand. My son was in the military too. The politicians around the world keep those body bags rolling in.”
Robert tightened his grip on Michelle’s hand.
“I know what drove you to take this drastic course of action, Professor, so let me put this another way. Look upon this arrangement not as you working for us, but more as a partnership. We will give you every facility you desire, no budgetary constraints, access to all scientific data. And I mean all, published or not. And in turn, you develop what we want.” He held his hands up.
“Certainly I cannot do what you do. And you’ve proved you can’t do what I do. ”
“And what precisely do you do?” Robert interjected.
Price smiled. “But working together, we can achieve your goal. Because your goal is our goal.”
Apparently he wasn’t prepared to answer that question.
Robert recognized he was being sold to. The house they’d provide would certainly be beautiful, even luxurious, but a gilded cage was still a cage. And Price was correct—his options were severely limited.
There seemed to be no way out of this.
This guy wants the same thing I do. He’s a kindred spirit.
That was probably complete bullshit, but if he was going to do this, he’d need a set of blinders before he set foot on this particular road.
Then he latched on to Price’s earlier words.
“You said my delivery system was crude.” Robert didn’t break eye contact. “But would it have worked?”
Price beamed. “You know it would have worked. That’s why you’re here. The only reason we stopped you was because it was the wrong place, wrong time. So that leaves only one question.” His eyes glittered. “When the right time comes, will you be with us?”
Robert glanced at Michelle, who stared back at him, holding her breath.
Waiting.
His shoulders slumped, a physical manifestation of his mental resignation.
“Let’s talk.”