Final Winter

A hammer blow, right to the gut. ‘No,’ Bocks said. ‘Not yet. I require something else.’

She could not speak. Only nod.

~ * ~

Bocks said, ‘No offense to you and your companions here, Miss Scott, but I need to verify your bona fides. All right? Every other op I’ve ever done for the CIA and anybody else in DC, I’ve checked and rechecked what’s been requested of me. Everything from sensitive packages to sensitive people, I’ve risked equipment and aircrews for my nation. But this one…this one dwarfs everything, miss, and I’m not going to proceed until I’m comfortable. So. Who do you have?’

‘Hold on, general,’ Adrianna said, and he wasn’t sure, but the woman seemed more pale than when she came in. What was going on there? he thought. The pressures? The responsibility? The burden of having to come to this office and plead a case that could end with all of them going to prison?

She went to her leather bag, took out a notepad, scribbled something and passed it over. Bocks glanced at the name and number, nodded. ‘I recognize the name. That’s a big point in your favor. We ran some items into Bagram couple of years back on his say-so. How’s his leg?’

‘He never talks about it.’

‘Figures.’

He put the slip of paper down, picked up the phone, dialed the number. It rang just once and a female voice answered the phone by repeating the last four digits of the number.

‘Four-one-twelve,’ she said.

‘This is General Alexander Bocks, of AirBox air freight,’ he said. ‘I need to speak to your Director. The Colonel.’

‘Hold on, sir,’ came the voice.

Dead silence.

Bocks looked over again at the trio sitting across from his desk. ‘I’m on hold,’ he said. ‘At least there’s no elevator music.’

No reply, nothing, just the somber looks on their faces. He had no envy for what they did and what they lived with, day after day. Running a multimillion dollar business was tough, but the spreadsheets he worked with didn’t have collateral damage of tens of thousands of civilians.

A click. ‘General Bocks?’ came a male voice.

‘That it is, colonel, that it is.’ He switched the receiver to his other hand. ‘I have before me three people who say they work for you. An Adrianna Scott. Doctor Victor Palmer. Detective Brian Doyle. True so far?’

‘You’ve got it.’

‘I’ve just been briefed by Adrianna Scott of an operation called Final Winter. You’re familiar with it?’

‘Yeah, quite familiar. And I’ll remind you, general, we’re not on a secure line.’

‘Understood. Question I have for you, has Final Winter been vetted?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re comfortable with what’s been presented, its outcomes and variables?’

A sigh. ‘Never comfortable with something like this, but as best as I can say, yeah, we’re comfortable.’

Bocks kept his eye on Adrianna. She looked like she had been carved out of marble. ‘I’m concerned about the liability on my part.’

‘There’s protocols that have been signed with you and your company and the Justice Department, am I correct?’

‘Yes, five or six years ago. When I first started…doing favors.’

The colonel laughed. ‘Now that’s a word. Favors. Yeah. General, the liability is covered. Don’t worry about it. The question I have is that Adrianna probably mentioned a tight deadline. Can you do it?’

Bocks took a breath, looked at the solemn faces of the people sitting across from him. ‘I don’t think I have a choice, now, do I.’

‘I don’t have to tell you the debt we’ll owe you if you’re able to provide this assistance, general.’

‘No, no, you don’t.’

Another pause. Bocks said, ‘All right, then, you’ve answered my questions. Thank you.’

‘No, sir, thank you…’

Bocks hung up the phone, looked at his visitors.

~ * ~

Adrianna had one thought, and one thought only:

Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.

Somehow she knew the general would have to do something to verify what she was proposing, but she hadn’t thought that he might go right to the colonel heading the Tiger Teams. The briefing she had given the Director a few days ago had so far worked well; all that anyone knew in the Tiger Team oversight was that Final Winter was merely a harmless bacterial test to determine air patterns and detection methods over various American cities. My God, if Bocks had said one word about anthrax, one word about deaths being caused and lives being saved…

Could she have gotten out of the building in time?

Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.

Bocks shook his head. ‘All right, I’ll take care of my machinists. In the meantime…Miss Scott, it looks like you’ve got me and my aircraft.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Adrianna said, disgusted at how weak her voice sounded, exhilarated at what she had just pulled off.

My word, wouldn’t papa have been proud.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO