Perfect Weapon. Amy J. Fetzer
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“Maybe before I got down there, but I did.”
There was a slight lift of a brow. “That was very brave.”
“Are you always this much of a condescending asshole?”
“Yes.”
Wickum cleared his throat.
“The chemicals I worked with could be used as weapons of mass destruction. Shouldn’t you be looking for them instead of grilling me?”
“We are.”
“They have the gas, don’t they?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“What do you mean? You go down there, open the cold room and take inventory.”
“We can’t get into the Cradle by Tatiana’s Veil. It’s been sealed from the inside.”
“The escape elevator?” He shook his head and she frowned. “Mother didn’t automatically turn on the emergency compressors and vent?”
“Mother is down and with the Sarin threat inside, no.”
Slowly she stood, her voice a cascade of shock and outrage. “Good God, Cisco, they may be alive! If they’re trapped on a level, they have ten hours of air down there. Twelve max. But there was smoke and that eats the oxygen.”
“And if the vials were broken, they were dead in seconds anyway.”
“You know, I suspected you didn’t have a heart, now I’m sure you’re missing a soul, too.”
Cisco stood very still, his hands behind his back, his gaze direct. He’d had to weigh the deaths against the final outcome and the consequences. “If we turn on the compressors everyone above could die, too, Dr. Hale.”
“Not unless the dead guys had something like atropine and contamination suits on them. I didn’t see suits or lugging them either. No”—she shook her head—“they didn’t release the gas. The risk is too high. They attacked to steal it.”
“Yes.”
“So my entire staff is choking to death down there. Jesus, how do you sleep at night?”
His fists tightened.
“This is your mess, Cisco. The Cradle was supposed to be impenetrable. Mother should have operated on her own.”
“Yes, but it didn’t. And I’ll find out why.” Without another word, he moved to the kitchen and poured himself some coffee. Syd watched him dump heaps of sugar into the cup. Wickum followed him and the two spoke softly enough that she couldn’t hear. They did it to make her nervous.
It wasn’t working. He let her staff die. She wanted to hurt him. Bad.
“I know you worked on nerve gas countermeasures.” Cisco had his back to her.
“Goody for you.”
Cisco faced her, arching a black brow.
“I’m not breaking security, Agent Cisco, so either you two show me your clearance, or shut up.” He obeyed and she could tell it irritated him. “Yes, the Cradle team developed a cold implosion bomb.”
“How does it work? And explain it so I can understand.”
Syd had to think for a second, several formulas whizzing through her brain. “Since Sarin lacks odor, color and taste, we needed to create a way to see it and stop its spread, to dissipate the gas once it’s released. The implosion sets off high volume high pressure phosphorous Freon. Freon attacks and paints the gas first, suspends its drift because it gives it weight. The chemical mix goes airborne and neutralizes the most deadly pathogen components. The real success was that we made it work without heat generating blasting material so it remains highly effective after detonation.”
Wickum’s mouth hung open. “Wow.”
Cisco stepped in front of him. “Could it seal the doors?”
“No. It’s not that kind of bomb. It creates a flash burn if you’re close or holding it, but it’s cold. You’d end up with mild frostbite unless you got the mix in your eyes. That would blind you.”
“Was there one of these bombs inside the Cradle?”
“Yes. They were stored one level above the cold room.”
“We have to assume the intruders have both the chemical weapons and a means to stop it.” Cisco scowled, rocking back on his heels. Only his gaze shifted to her. “Is that the only project?”
Now it was Sydney’s turn to be silent.
“Please answer the question, Dr. Hale.”
She simply tipped her head to the side. Cisco wanted to push it, but admired her resistance. He was overstepping his authority as it was. He asked her to repeat what she saw and what happened for the third time. Cisco considered that the Marine who saved her life and went back into the fray was one of three lying in a makeshift morgue. But he’d find out for certain.
He reached for his coat, slipping it on. “You’re to remain here, Dr. Hale.” He headed to the door, his black coat flapping like wings.
“Cisco.” He paused to look back. “There were three vials of liquid gas left. Those were used to test the effects of a completed implosion bomb. We used the accelerants for development, in small amounts. They’re not easy to get after nine-eleven, but any good chemist with the formula could make a deadly gas like that.”
“One strike would be plenty. And right now, we don’t have the countermeasure. They do.”
“If they have the countermeasure bomb, they have three prototypes. We did development, not manufacture. They can’t recreate it quickly. It took biochemists and physicists two years to make that work.”
Outside the house, Wickum hunched in his black coat. “She’s not what I expected.”
“They never are.” Cisco had learned that brilliance didn’t have to be explained and most people with minds like Dr. Hale had a sheltered shyness. Dr. Hale was the exception. She’d come a long way from the woman he’d fingerprinted five years ago. She could barely look him in the eye then. Now, he suspected she’d like to see his ass kicked all over the mountain.
“Why didn’t you tell her about the dead Marines?”
Cisco opened a thin cigar and bit the tip, turning his head to spit it aside. He struck a match, the flare turning his features demonic. “No need right now. She’s lost her staff and her life’s work. Her house been filtered yet?”
Wick checked his watch. “It should be done by now. I think you have her all wrong.”
“What I have is a suspect and a witness. She’s smart enough to make a cold implosion bomb, what else could she do?”
“Hell if I know. I flunked chemistry.”
“I don’t trust her, neither should you. Get your hormones under control.”
“Hey, she’s pretty, intelligent, and she does have a nice rack.”
“Yeah, well. She used those charms to get past the Marine guard in time to escape the killing field. Who else did she con?”
“I’ll bet you twenty she’s clean.”
Cisco eyeballed him. “You’re on.”
“You’re going to release her.”
“We can’t mark her without her knowing it. She’d expect it. Get her place wired, and put a tail on her. Let’s see who comes to Dr. Hale. If she’s in this, she’s the brilliance behind it.”
“And if she’s not?”
“We’ll know within forty-eight hours.”
“Yeah,