Waterkill (Dave Henson Series) (18 page)

Dana had sensed the Mercedes sway into another lane while she lie prone on the back seat. She had thought little of it as she was exhausted and defeated from her recent failed escape attempt. The sudden surge of power in the Mercedes, with the simultaneous explicative issued from Spencer’s mouth, however, piqued her curiosity. With her bound hands she raised the upper portion of her body and head off of the seat and looked out the passenger side window. A white SUV was trailing right beside them on their right. It was rapidly accelerating towards them. Though she only got a quick glimpse of the vehicle before she lost her balance on her bound hands and fell back onto the seat, she was sure she looked into the eyes of Dave. But it couldn’t be she told herself, as she tried to push herself up again for another look. How could he have found her? How could he be only meters away from her in the middle of the desert? Hope flickered again in her heart.

Dave could see that the Mercedes continued to accelerate. He knew his SUV would be unable to keep up with it for very much longer. He had to act fast if he hoped to save Dana. He mashed the SUV’s accelerator pedal to the floor. The 1.3 liter engine responded instantly, propelling the vehicle forward. He aimed the front of his SUV directly towards the rear of the Mercedes. A second later the SUV slammed into it, the sound of crunching bumpers and metal confirming the impact. Unfortunately the collision had been weak due to the vehicles near equal velocity.

With the sudden jolt from behind, the lines on Spencer’s face tightened in anger as he looked in his rearview mirror at the white SUV behind him. Dave Henson’s eyes glared directly back at him. A new look of determination set into Spencer’s eyes. So this is how Dave Henson wants it to go down, thought Spencer. He immediately yanked the steering wheel to the right, causing the Mercedes to switch lanes, then stomped on the brake pedal, causing the SUV to shoot right by him. As the SUV’s right rear end began to pass by the nose of the Mercedes, Spencer juked the steering wheel back to the left, causing the Mercedes left front panel to slam into the back right quarter panel of the SUV. The SUV instantly turned sideways and shot across the road sliding in front of the Mercedes. When the SUV’s front wheels hit the shoulder of the road it immediately flipped and started rolling as it flew through the air.

Dana had propped herself up again just as the two vehicles slammed into each other for a second time. As the Mercedes accelerated forward after the collision, the last thing she saw in the rear window of the car was the white SUV tumbling through the air and coming to a stop, upside down on its roof. Dana collapsed onto the backseat, tears flowing from her eyes, her body shaking uncontrollably. She had lost the man she loved.

Chapter 29 (April 16, Saturday 11:00pm, McCall, Idaho)

Ron walked down the long brightly lit hallway, the normal spring in his step gone and exhaustion showing on his face. It had been a very long day. He had been up and at the NSurv offices for over eighteen hours straight, since Dave had called him from Yemen.  He had spent most of those waking hours in his office or in a conference room, on the phone and in video conferences with scientists and medical personnel from USAMRIID in Fort Detrick, Maryland. The two men he was about to pay a visit to had had a similar day. He had contacted them immediately after getting off the phone with Dave early this morning.

              He turned left at an intersection in the hallway. Immediately on his right were large plate glass windows that extended halfway down the hallway walls. Ron looked through the windows, into a large medical laboratory. It was filled with shelving, cabinets and lab benches, all supporting various types of scientific and medical research equipment, some of which had been developed at NSurv and that did not exist anywhere else in the world. NSurv’s Nano-Science Medical Research (NSMR) laboratory was state of the art and one of a kind.

When Dave and Ron had founded NSurv a few years earlier it was with the express purpose to focus on nanoscience research and development. One of the key areas of application that they had decided to concentrate on, besides advanced surveillance systems, was in the field of medicine. Nanoscience offers nearly endless possibilities in the detection and cure of diseases, including infectious diseases such as cholera, which was now threatening the lives of millions thought Ron.

Ron pushed on the main door to the NSMR laboratory and entered a large vestibule area. Inside the vestibule, on both his left and right side, were floor to ceiling shelves that contained various types of protective medical clothing and gear. In the center of the room, bolted to the floor, was a metal seat-bench that went the length of the vestibule.

Ron quickly donned a sterile gown, cap, gloves and boot covers made from spun bonded polypropylene. Lastly, he put on a pair of goggles and a surgical mask before continuing on into the main area of the laboratory. He stopped after walking through the vestibule portal and into the lab. He listened for a brief second to the quiet hum of equipment and overhead lights. The lab looked void of any NSurv personnel, but he knew that was not the case.

He walked to the far right corner area of the NSMR laboratory. Two men were seated at a lab bench, one bent over a compound microscope, the other looking into a computer screen.

“Good evening Doctor Hayden and Doctor Gillian,” said Ron in a tired voice. “I see the two of you are still working hard at it.”

Hearing Ron’s voice, Doctor Gillian who had been staring at the computer screen, swiveled around on his lab chair.

“That we have,” said Doctor Gillian with an unseen smile, his face hidden by the mask he was wearing. “And we have some good news to report.”

“Excellent, I could use a little good news before going home and getting a little shut eye.”

Doctor Hayden lifted his head from the microscope to face Ron.

“Doctor Hayden has come up with a way to neutralize any public water supply contaminated by the cholera bioterrorism weapon.”

Ron shifted his goggled covered eyes over to Doctor Hayden. “How so?” asked Ron with piqued interest sounding in his voice.

“Doctor Gillian and I have been able to expand upon the same techniques employed in our specialized water testing kits to effectively detect and destroy the terrorist’s cholera bioweapon,” responded Doctor Hayden in a dry and clinical tone. “By introducing iron-oxide nanoparticles coated with the complex sugar dextran into a known cholera infected water supply, we can draw the cholera bacteria to the iron-oxide nanoparticles. The bacteria effectively ends up attaching itself to the iron-oxide nanoparticles. Then, when we direct the water supply through an electrically magnetized metal screen coated in polyethylene plastic, the iron-oxide nanoparticles, along with the cholera bacteria clinging to them, magnetically adhere to the screen. Thus, the water passing through the screen becomes bacteria free.”

“But what about the screen with the cholera bacteria attached to it,” Ron questioned. “How do you destroy the bacteria, and won’t it clog up at some point, preventing the flow of water?”

“By periodically stopping the flow of water through the screen, and then introducing a large current source across the screen, the iron-oxide nanoparticles, along with the attached cholera bacteria, are super-heated. The intense heat instantly kills the cholera bacteria. Then, when the electric magnetic field is pulsed off, the iron-oxide nanoparticles, along with the neutralized and harmless bacteria, fall from the screen. They end up dropping into a collection hopper, if you will, that sits directly below the screen. Before the water supply flow is resumed, and the screen magnetically recharged, the hopper door is closed, isolating the iron-oxide nanoparticle waste from the main water supply flow.” 

“Incredible,” said Ron as he looked at the two men in awe.

“Doctor Hayden was just checking another water sample from a series of tests that we conducted earlier to prove the concept,” responded Doctor Gillian.

Doctor Hayden glanced over at the compound microscope before turning back to Ron and nodding his head. “After looking at several water samples that have undergone the process I just described I am convinced that we have a viable counter-terrorism solution to this cholera bioweapon.”

“How soon do you think you could have a large system put together in the event there is another attack on a public water supply?” asked Ron.

“It depends upon how big of a public water supply we are talking about,” answered Doctor Hayden.

“So far the terrorists have chosen to deploy their cholera weapon in relatively small towns,” responded Ron. “However, I suspect they have much bigger targets in mind, possibly one or more large cities is my best guess.”

Doctor Hayden shook his head incredulously, not just at the sheer audacity of the terrorists, but to also what Ron was suggesting. “It would take us at least a month to build a system large enough to support a single major city water supply,” responded Doctor Hayden. 

“I don’t think we have that much time,” said Ron shaking his head in disagreement. “Look, I need the two of you to design a system large enough to support the public water supply of a major United States city. When I return early tomorrow morning I will take your design and personally put a plan in motion to have a single system built in one week.”

The two doctors looked incredulously at him before slowly nodding their heads in agreement.

“Great, I will put another pot of coffee on in the break room for the two of you before I leave,” said Ron. “Just keep in mind that as you work tonight, you may very well be saving the lives of millions of people.”

“We understand,” responded Doctor Gillian. “You will have a set of design plans on your desk when you arrive in the morning.”

“Thank you both for all of your hard work today,” said Ron as he turned to leave.

“Ron, any word on Dave and Dana?” asked Doctor Gillian.

Ron pivoted back to face the men, concern showing in his eyes, a hidden fear in the back of his mind, and guilt for disobeying Dave’s order not to say anything about the kidnapping of Dana. “I spoke to Dave just a short while ago. I should know within the hour if he was able to rescue Dana. If he does, I will send you a quick text to let you know.”

Ron abruptly turned and left the men, a hollow concern growing in the pit of his stomach. He could feel something had gone terribly wrong.

Chapter 30 (April 17, Sunday 6:30am, Sofia, Bulgaria)

His world was turned upside down. Sand and dust choked his vision and throat. His head and left shoulder ached. Blood dripped from his hands and head that were hanging inverted in the SUV. He could hear a ticking sound coming from the vehicles otherwise silent engine, a hiss of steam escaping from the cracked radiator. A wheel still spun, but was slowly grinding to a halt.

Dave’s vision slowly came back into focus, consciousness returning to his brain. He was hanging upside down, held in place by his seatbelt, in the white Suzuki Jimny SUV. Dust still filled the air inside the SUV, and the steering wheel airbag blocked most of his view out the front windshield, but he could partially see out his side window. He stared out at vast empty flat fields, with just the occasional tree or scrub plant to break up the landscape. He twisted his head around to see if he could see the motorway. No sharp pain he thought to himself. At least his neck was not broken. Only his left shoulder felt a little sore. He could see the A1 motorway not far off in the distance. He estimated he was only a hundred meters from it.

Dave did a quick assessment on the rest of his body. He moved his hands and legs and they all seemed to be working. He checked his bleeding hands. They were speckled with numerous minor cuts caused by the small pieces of tempered glass that had rained down on him when the SUV rolled and the windshield apparently smashed, but otherwise they were in fine operating order. No broken bones. He wiped the blood from his head and face with the right sleeve of his shirt. Then, using his hand, he felt around on his head for injuries. There was a shallow half inch long cut on his forehead. The cut sat centered on top of a knot that had already grown to the size of a golf ball. His head must have slammed into the windshield he thought. The rest of his head was uninjured.

Dave worked his legs out from underneath the dashboard and, along with his left hand, braced them against the interior of the SUV’s roof. He then reached around his waist with his right hand and pushed the release button on his seatbelt. He immediately dropped down onto the roof interior, catching himself with his feet and hands. Wriggling his body around, and positioning his legs in front of him, he kicked the heels of his shoes in unison, smashing out the driver’s window. Finally, he wormed his body out of the twisted wreck of a vehicle.

As he stood up and looked back at the SUV lying upside down on its roof, he could not believe he was still alive. The backend of the vehicle was entirely caved in on itself, the rear axle bent and twisted, and the back passenger wheel completely torn from it. Suddenly, Dave heard a voice in the distance and turned his head in its direction, towards the A1 motorway. Two men and a woman were walking, half running, in his direction, their vehicle parked on the shoulder of the road. They were yelling to him in Bulgarian.

The two distinguished looking men got to him first and spoke in rapid fire. Dave had no idea what they were saying, but it was obvious that they were concerned with his well-being. One was looking at and pointing to the golf ball on his forehead, while at the same time rattling off in Bulgarian what Dave guessed was a series of questions to him. The other was looking back and forth between him and the wrecked SUV and gesturing with his hands, obviously impressed with the fact that he had survived the accident. Dave responded to the first man’s questions in English. The man immediately dropped his focus from Dave’s forehead to his eyes, recognizing, but not understanding, the English words spoken to him. He turned and said something to the woman who had finally arrived at the scene. Dave estimated her to be about thirty years old. Like the men, she was well dressed, wearing a blue skirt and white blouse.

“Are you okay sir?” said the young woman in perfect English. “Are you injured any worse than the cuts on your head and hands?”

Dave looked into the woman’s dark brown eyes and said, “No I am fine, just some minor cuts and bruises. Thank you.”

“How did this happen?” she asked, her eyes looking beyond him at the overturned and mangled SUV.

“I must have dozed off at the wheel for a second,” Dave lied. “When I opened my eyes the SUV was drifting off into the median. I instantly reacted, but apparently over-corrected the steering. The SUV shot across the road, into the soft shoulder, and then immediately began to tumble and roll until it ended up like that.” He looked back at the SUV.

“Well you will not be going any further in that vehicle,” she said, still somewhat in awe that he had survived the crash. “We are on our way into Sophia. If you would like, we can give you a ride and drop you off at a hospital to be checked out.”

“I would very much appreciate the ride,” responded Dave. “However, I do not need to visit the hospital. Instead, would you mind dropping me off at the airport?”

The woman looked at him surprised, while the two men questioningly watched her reaction.  One fired off a question to her from what Dave guessed. She spoke just as rapidly back to the man. Both men smiled at Dave as she responded to the man’s question.  When she finished her response the two men immediately came rushing up to him.

“Okay, we will take you to the airport,” the woman responded succinctly. She instantly turned on her heels, and started walking back towards their car, her long mane of brunette hair flowing behind her. Dave, along with the two men helping him walk, began following her in close pursuit.

Twenty minutes later the two men and woman dropped him off outside the general aviation terminal building at the airport. He thanked them profusely for their help and offered to compensate them. They waived his gesture of compensation away and said their goodbyes. “Good luck sir,” said the woman looking at him with a glint of amused suspicion in her eyes. “For some reason, I think you are going to need it.”

As they drove away Dave turned and faced the entrance to the small terminal that housed the FBO. He looked to his left before entering the building and saw that his airplane was still tied down on the ramp. Well I may not have wheels anymore, but at least I still have my wings, thought Dave to himself. He proceeded to enter the building and went directly to the men’s rest room to clean himself up before anyone else saw him.

Fortunately the bathroom was empty, most likely on account of the fact that general aviation was fairly limited in Bulgaria. He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like he had been through Hell and back. His face and hair were matted with dried blood, his hands not much better. Thankfully the sink faucet had a long neck and the sink was relatively deep. He washed the blood from his face, hands and hair as best he could by ducking them underneath the faucet repeatedly.

After he looked somewhat reasonable he walked out of the bathroom in the direction of the FBO office, passing the Hertz rental car agency along the way. He decided there was no point in letting them know the status of their SUV. They would learn soon enough and he did not have time to deal with it. He needed to get out to his plane and contact Ron immediately. While cleaning himself up in the bathroom he had decided he had only one card left to play if he ever hoped to see Dana alive again.  

As Dave walked by the FBO office he gave a slight wave of his hand to the male attendant behind the counter. He kept his head down and slightly turned away to avoid eye contact with him, and to hide from view the large knot and cut on his forehead. He continued through the general aviation terminal waiting area to the exterior door that led to the airport terminal ramp. From there he proceeded directly out to his Cirrus SR22T. He removed the tie down ropes from the aircraft, along with the Pitot tube cover and engine cowl plugs, and placed them inside the aircraft’s rear storage cargo area.

After getting himself situated into the left seat of the cockpit, his aching left shoulder complicating the process, he powered up the General Dynamics PRC-155 radio sitting next to him. He punched in Ron’s cell phone number into the radio’s keypad and a few seconds later Ron’s voice boomed over the radio.

“Did you get her back?” asked Ron in an excited voice.

Dave held his hand over his throbbing head and looked in the direction of the terminal building. “No I didn’t,” responded Dave quietly.

“What happened? Did you miss them?”

“No, no, I saw them. They actually passed me on the motorway southeast of Sophia.”

“Then what happened?”

“I nearly got myself killed, or more accurately, Spencer almost killed me.”

“How?” asked Ron.

“Well, I attempted to run their vehicle off the road to stop them, but Spencer got the best of me and ended up running me off instead.”

“Jesus, are you all right? And what about Dana? Did you see her?”

“Yes, I am alright, and yes I saw Dana, but only for a brief second. She was lying low in the backseat of the car, a black E-class Mercedes sedan. Spencer was driving it. The other man, Abdul, did not seem to be with him. At least I saw no sign of him in the car.”

“So what do you want to do next?” asked Ron. “Try to fly ahead of them again and make another attempt at rescuing her on the road?”

“No, it’s unlikely I would have any better success. I don’t have a weapon and the next closest city with a large enough airport that would be sure to have car rentals is Istanbul, Turkey. Flying into Turkey, and landing at a major airport like Ataturk without a filed flight plan would probably lead to me being arrested and locked up as soon as I opened my cockpit doors.”

“So what do you want to do?” asked Ron.

“I need you to contact John Bates for me and have him get in touch with CIA Director John Cote. Find out if they can possibly extract me out of Turkey, at a remote airfield or desert strip.”

“Roger that, I will call Bates right away.”

“I am not done,” interrupted Dave. “I also want you to ask them to transport me to Tehran and imbed me in with their CIA deep cell agents that are searching for Aref Zarin. I am convinced, after my run-in with Spencer today, that he is indeed taking Dana to Aref, probably to use her as a propaganda tool, and inevitability to kill her.”

“Okay, I will call Bates immediately and will get back to you,” responded Ron with a clear determination and sense of urgency in his voice. “But what about yourself in the meantime?”

“I am going to continue on to Turkey, assuming the CIA will respond favorably to my requests. If they don’t, then I will land somewhere in Turkey and figure it out from there. One way or the other, I will make it to Tehran and find Dana.”

Dave hesitated a moment before continuing, formulating a plan in his head, and coming up with a flight plan.

“I will parallel the northern coast of Turkey, flying out low over the Black Sea. When I hear back from you, I will modify my heading towards the coordinates you provide. I had the tanks filled here in Sophia, so I should have sufficient fuel onboard to make it to as far east as the Turkey/Georgia border.”

“Alright, I will call you back as soon as I hear a response from Bates. Good luck, and Dave, I know we will recover her alive. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you Ron. I pray that you’re right. I don’t want to lose her.” 

Dave terminated the connection and began sequencing through the Cirrus SR22T engine-start checklist. Ten minutes later he was wheels up and headed southeast, in the direction of the Black Sea coastline on the Bulgaria/Turkey border.