Chapter 14
Posted: July 17, 2007 - 01:30:45 am


It was nearly three in the morning before Mike finished with the decontamination process. The decontamination process had been humiliating. He had been required to strip completely naked because any clothes, even underwear, could harbor radioactive dust. He had stripped before removing his mask. The scrub brushes had stiff bristles that hurt when applied vigorously and they had been applied very vigorously. The water was cold despite the summer heat.

After decontamination, he went over to medical where they checked him for radiation. The man with the Geiger counter kept running it over him and fiddling with the knob. After a minute of that, he said, "This must be busted. You've got the lowest levels I've measured all night."

"I put on a mask right after the first hit. I never removed it," Mike said.

"Smart. I've been reading high levels of radiation in the chest area all night. That means that people's lungs are filled with that crap and we can't get it out. Hopefully they'll cough it out over the next couple of days," the man said. He handed Mike a bottle of pills and said, "Take one of these twice a day until the bottle is empty. It should prevent some damage from radiation."

"Thanks," Mike said grabbing the bottle. He looked around and asked, "Have you got any water? I haven't had a drink since the explosion."

"You're real smart. There were some folks that went in and got soft drinks thinking that the liquid inside was safe. The problem is the dust on the outside. They pop the top with their dirty hands and then drink the soda. God only knows how much radiation they swallowed. We actually had an idiot that went back into the building and drank out of a water fountain," the man said shaking his head.

Mike grimaced at the idea of what that would have done. He asked, "So do you have water?"

"After you get through the next station there's a Salvation Army truck. They'll fix you up with everything you want," the man said.

Mike said, "We saw a lot of people doing some pretty stupid things. How bad has it been?"

"The folks that were right at the location of blast aren't in too good of a shape, but it could have been worse. There wasn't actually that much material so people who were even halfway cautious should survive it. I imagine that there'll be an increased cancer rate among everyone here, myself included. The ones who were really stupid won't be around for long," the man said.

"That's about what I figured," Mike said biting his lower lip. He thought about the men who had just driven off. They had no idea that they were going to be breathing that dust for the rest of their short lives.

"We ran out of clothes a couple of hours ago. One of the cops broke into one of the local stores and liberated a bunch of bathrobes. We ran out of those a little while ago. I'm afraid that you're going to have to wear a sheet," the man said pointing over at pile of sheets.

"Hey, just so long as I can get home," Mike said going over to the sheets. He picked up one and looked at it for a minute. It was huge and he'd probably trip on it if he wrapped it around himself. He asked, "You got a knife?"

"What do you need it for?"

"I want to cut a hole in the sheet so that I can wear it home," Mike answered thinking there had been a time when he would have had his trusty pocket knife with him. Those days were long gone as a result of the increased security in public buildings.

The man tossed Mike a knife and turned to take care of Tim. Mike cut a strip off the sheet and then cut a hole for his head. He put the sheet on like it was a poncho and tied it closed with the belt he had made. He posed in front of Tim and said, "I never did figure out how to wear a toga."

Tim laughed at the comment. He rubbed his mouth and said, "I'm so glad to get rid of that mask. I swear that my teeth were itching."

Mike went over to the next station and waited for the person there to finish with the person ahead of him. It was a short wait since everything the man had carried with him was contaminated. When it was his turn, the man asked, "Are you Bowman?"

"Yes," Mike answered.

The man held up a plastic bag and said, "You were smart and didn't put your hands in your pockets. Your keys, coins, and wallet came through okay."

"I'm glad to hear that," Mike said. He hadn't even thought of protecting the items in his pockets having assumed that they were history.

"We've got a couple of cell phones over there if you need to call someone to let them know that you're okay. We aren't releasing any of the cars from the parking lot until we've checked them out for radiation. If you can't get a ride home, we've rounded up some volunteers. While you're waiting, the Salvation Army has a wagon over there. They'll give you some food and something to drink," the man said handing Mike his possessions.

"Hello, Karen."

"Oh, Mike! Are you okay? I've been so worried about you," Karen said. The voice of his wife over the phone lifted his spirits.

"I'm fine. I just got through decontamination," Mike said. He took another sip from the bottle of water.

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. Finally, Karen said, "Your father is over at our house. I think you should stay there with him for the next couple of days."

"What happened to him?" Mike asked getting concerned.

"They hit the Pentagon, too," Karen answered.

"Is he okay?" Mike asked. He hadn't heard about any other places getting hit, but it made sense that there were other places. The Pentagon was a high value target.

"He was contaminated too," Karen answered. She was silent for several seconds and then said, "We think that you should stay away for a couple of days. I don't want any contamination around the baby."

Surprised, Mike was about to object, but realized the folly of doing so. After all, Karen was watching out for the health of this son. He said, "Okay. I'll go to the house and keep my father company. I'll call you in the morning."

Karen gave a weak laugh and said, "It is morning."

"Oh, yeah."

It was seven in the morning and the four men were still waiting to get home. The pool of volunteer drivers had disappeared long before the time they had finished getting through the process. Sanjay's wife had finally showed up to get Sanjay and the couple was going to give Mike a ride home. Jack and Tim were going to be picked up by their wives.

"Sanjay," Jack called out.

"What?" Sanjay asked with irritation evident in his voice. He was tired and feeling rather cranky. All he wanted to do was get to bed.

Jack walked over and said, "Remember that your membership in the Intelligence 100 is classified. The only ones with a need to know are others in the group."

"Okay," Sanjay said.

"We don't even talk about it among ourselves," Jack said.

"Yes, sir. I won't say a word about it," Sanjay said.

Nodding his head, Jack said, "I'll be by your house tomorrow to fill you in on the details that you need to know in order to contribute."

"Thank you," Sanjay said.

The men parted with Mike getting into the rear seat of the car. Sanjay's wife was a surprise. Mike had been expecting her to be an Indian woman, but she was actually Asian. Sanjay said, "Mike, this is my wife Teva. Teva, this is Mike Bowman."

The tiny woman turned in her seat and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mike Bowman. Sanjay has told me much about you."

"I'm sure that anything good he said about me was a lie," Mike said with a smile.

Mike walked up to the door of the Internet Café near his home. The atmosphere was very different than his normal visits in the past. For one thing, there were two Marines guarding the door. One of them looked at Mike as he approached and said, "They're closed today."

"I'm Mike Bowman."

"Sorry Dr. Bowman. I need to see some ID," the Marine said. After Mike opened his wallet and showed his CIA identification, the guard said, "Go on in, sir."

"Thank you," Mike said. He entered the building and looked around at the men and women seated there. Joe, wearing a Marine uniform, snapped to attention. He didn't salute since Mike was a civilian. In a loud voice, he announced, "Mike Bowman, I'm glad to see that you survived the attack."

The waitress stared at Joe wondering what was happening. She had appeared at work that morning and had been admitted by the two Marines at the front door. She was floored when everyone else in the place turned to look at Mike. She thought of him as Pervert John. One of the men turned to another one there and said, "I heard that he led a hundred people out of the building and held vigil with a dying man."

"It was closer to twenty-five," Mike said overhearing the comment. He didn't count the others who had followed them out.

"He was the one who predicted the attacks," another man said to the person at the next table.

One of the people asked, "Are you one of the Intelligence 100?"

Mike ignored the question and said, "I'd like everyone here to introduce themselves. We're going to be working here for a long time and it would be best if we can call each other by name rather than 'Hey you.' I'm Mike Bowman from the CIA and supposedly I'm the supervisor here."

Joe said, "I'm Master Gunnery Sergeant Joe Dinkins from the United States Marine Corp. I'm in charge of security here."

"I'm Jim Donnelley from Naval Intelligence."

"I'm Harold McKinsey from the FBI anti-terrorism task force."

"I'm Shirley Holbrook from the CIA anti-terrorism task force."

"I'm Jack McElroy. I work for the FBI in the Organized Crimes division."

The introductions continued until the only one who hadn't identified herself was the waitress. After hearing all of the alphabet soup agencies, she wasn't really in a condition to know what to say. When all eyes turned to her, Joe said, "The young lady is Cathy Connor and she is the only real employee of this Internet Cafe. If you need anything, she'll bring it to you."

Feeling more than a little overwhelmed, Cathy gave a little wave of her hand. She was definitely confused by the activity going on around her. She did manage to squeak out a simple, "Hello."

Mike said, "As you know, two days ago we were attacked by terrorists supported by Iran. They used rail guns to launch canisters containing radioactive material into the CIA building, the NSA building, and the Pentagon in a concerted effort to eliminate our ability to wage war. Although the individuals involved in the attack were members of Hezbollah, Iran was in charge of the entire mission.

"According to the results from tests on captured canisters, it appears that the material came from a canister of abandoned radioactive waste from some laboratory that was probably shut down in the 1950s. That's a hypothesis only, but the materials are consistent with it. Investigators from the ATF and FBI are working around the clock to identify where the terrorists found it. Odds are good that they were discovered in a trash dump somewhere. That is not our problem although it is good to know what kind of materials with which we're dealing."

Mike walked around to the coffee machine. After mentally debating whether he should interrupt his speech to pour a cup of coffee or not, he said, "We do know the following facts. There were originally ten of these devices built here in the states. We have not identified where they were constructed. Pennsylvania State troopers found one of them after a gunfight with terrorists several weeks ago. Capitol police captured another three of them before they were able to launch at the White House and the Capital Building. Two more were captured outside the CIA and NSA locations. Two were captured outside of the Pentagon; one before the attack and one after the attack. That means that there are two rail guns that haven't been found."

Pausing for effect, Mike said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we've been tasked with locating the last two rail guns. Are there any questions?"

"Have we learned anything from the people who were caught?" Jack Elroy asked.

Mike frowned and said, "No. They asked for and received lawyers. Members of that fine profession have taken their cases. There will be no advanced interrogation methods allowed because it strips them of their dignity and violates their civil rights. On the basis of their lawyers' advice, they have insisted on their rights to remain silent."

"That sucks," Cathy blurted out. Everyone in the room chuckled at her reaction. Embarrassed she looked around for something to do and noticed Mike eyeing the coffee. She went over to pour a cup of coffee for him and decided that everyone could probably use a cup.

"I agree with you, Cathy. That sucks, but the President has insisted that all legal formalities be followed. We are supposed to follow legal due process in obtaining evidence. There will be no short cuts allowed. A prosecutor from the Denver office of the Attorney General is flying here to provide legal advice," Mike said accepting the cup of coffee from Cathy. The prosecutor was one of the few who held a security clearance high enough to sit in the office. He was going to be running from Internet Café to Internet Café working hard.

Cathy moved around the room filling coffee cups while the question and answer session continued. Finally, one of the analysts in the room asked, "All of our databases are inside contaminated buildings. How are we supposed to do our jobs?"

Mike smiled and said, "We have access to a back up source of intelligence data. You'll find that when you log into your machines that you'll have access to far more data than you've ever had before. All of the normal compartmentalization of data has been suspended during this crisis, so you'll have access to information that will blow your socks off."

From his location at the counter, Joe said, "There is one thing that you'll need to know. One of the security features built into the software is to show a pornographic picture if two or more people are at a machine. It's tied into the monitoring cameras overhead and I don't know how to disable it. We're waiting for one of the NSA folks to come by and disable that feature."

A number of eyes all turned to look at Joe. One of the men said, "It sounds good to me. Any of you guys are welcome to look over my shoulder anytime the mood strikes you."

As one of three women in the room, Shirley rolled her eyes at the chuckles from the men in the room. She said, "I'm stuck in a room full of testosterone."

Cathy turned to stare at Mike as she realized what Joe was saying. She realized that Mike wasn't Pervert John. He had been doing something entirely different all of the times he had been in the Internet Cafe. She was about to say something when Joe shook his head. Deciding that she didn't want to lose this job now that it had gotten very interesting, she closed her mouth and poured coffee. Joe said, "Cathy, when you are finished there, I'd appreciate it if you joined me in my office."

"Yes, Joe," Cathy said hoping that she wasn't about to lose her job. She didn't know that she was about to be informed that a full background investigation had been performed on her and she was being given a security clearance.

Mike returned home late at night. Three days had passed since the attack and Karen was still living at his parent's house. Robert was seated on the couch watching the news when he entered the house. Mike asked, "So what's going on in the world?"

"I should be asking you that question," Robert answered.

"I've been busy with other things."

Robert turned off the television and said, "I've got a pot of chili cooking in the kitchen. I thought you might appreciate something hot. We can talk while we eat."

"Thanks. We've been eating donuts and cold sandwiches at the Internet Café," Mike said heading to the kitchen.

His father followed him into the kitchen and got two bowls from the cupboard. Handing one of the bowls to Mike, he said, "I talked to Louise. She said that Karen is considering returning home. She figures if we haven't died from radiation poisoning yet that we can't kill little Robert."

"I don't blame her for being worried. It is the life of our son that she's worried about," Mike said shrugging his shoulders. He filled his father's bowl with chili.

"It's good that you understand. I'm sorry, but mothers tend to worry about their children. I really wish that I was sleeping in my own bed," Robert said carrying his bowl over to the table.

"What's going on in the Pentagon?" Mike asked while filling his bowl with chili. It smelled pretty good. He grabbed the package of saltines on his way over to the table.

"They opened up some more of the building for use. It's a big building and the amount of material was small. All that's closed off now are the floors that were hit and the floors above and below them. The closed areas extended just along the hallway about two hundred yards in each direction from the impact site," Robert answered. People were avoiding getting even close to those areas. He didn't blame them.

"That's good. I heard that the original CIA building is a total loss. It was hit three times and folks spread the radioactive materials around. They might be able to restore part of the NSA building," Mike said crumbling saltines in his chili.

Robert said, "I never thought I would see the day when our intelligence agencies were directly attacked. Even the Russians never threatened to do that, much less try to do it."

"We knew it was coming. I've got a feeling that things are only going to get worse before they get better," Mike said.

Shaking his head, Robert said, "The universities have all shut down. Students are being sent home."

"Why?" Mike asked. He hadn't heard anything about that. Of course, his day had been spent trying to find two missing rail guns.

"This morning three different universities were attacked. Terrorists roamed the hallways shooting students. Witnesses reported that the killers were shouting 'Death to the Infidels.' The death toll is well over a thousand," Robert said.

"Shit."

"Muslims are being killed in the streets and it looks like law enforcement is not able to control the situation. According to the news, over fifty thousand of them have been killed since the year began. Late this afternoon, New York, California, and Georgia activated the National Guard because of riots in New York City, Los Angeles, and Atlanta. We're on the verge of collapse," Robert said.

Mike shook his head and wondered what was going to happen next. He asked, "Is the National Guard armed?"

"You bet," Robert said.

The pair of men ate a little of their chili thinking their own thoughts. Mike was wondering what kind of world his son was going to inherit. Robert was wondering how long it would take people to get used to the new status quo.

Robert gestured at the television and asked, "Would you like to hear something strange that was on television and no one even noticed just how significant it was?"

"Sure," Mike answered.

"The airlines have tripled the number of flights between here and the Middle East because of the number of people wanting to leave," Robert said. He paused significantly and looked at Mike waiting for him to make a comment.

"What's so strange about that?" Mike asked, "If I was in some foreign country and people like me were getting killed, I'd be heading home too."

"The strange part is that the planes are just as full coming back," Robert said.

"Oh, God. And we can't detain them for questioning because the ACLU won the case against Homeland Security for profiling," Mike said shaking his head. Each plane out was bringing another batch of terrorists back with it. The country was getting flooded with terrorists and no one could do anything about it.

"That's right. For every Muslim we want to investigate at the airport, we have to investigate a Swedish granny, an English nanny, a German engineer, an Italian porn star, and a Japanese businessman," Robert said. That was only half of the story. He smiled and said, "It gets worse."

"What?" Mike asked wondering how it could get much worse.

Robert said, "The travel agents over in a couple of those countries can issue entrance visas without having to go through our embassy. There's no mechanism for us to even find out who is coming here until they are actually on the plane. Our embassy never sees them."

"Where did you hear about this?" Mike asked.

"You forget that Marines guard our embassies," Robert answered.
Lazlo Zalezac
Chapter 15