Chapter 11
Robert’s a Loose Cannon
Steve never thought he’d miss having Robert around but he did. Sitting at his desk in the small research facility he drummed a pencil absentmindedly on the desk and looked at the plot of the newest data set. The results were good and it looked like everything was going to work but he had questions. He’d tried Robert’s cell phone a couple of times but it always rolled to voicemail and when he got a call back it was always abrupt, Robert speaking in quick, harsh words.
The past few weeks had been marked with progress, especially when Robert had given Steve the brand new laptop, complete with cellular data card so he could get a connection to the internet from anywhere. Steve liked the flexibility of the computer, especially since he could connect to Foundation and keep up with his email and other information that was being shared without going to the office every day. The work there was moving forward and the corporate attorneys were pushing the U.S. patent office to expedite the patent requests they had filed for the delivery invention.
Robert had suddenly vanished last week, sending Steve a quick mail that said “Need to go to D.C. for some reconnaissance, not sure when I’ll be back. Call the cell if you need anything.” Steve was busy for the first few days and had relaxed the next few days but now he needed some guidance on what to do next. He’d even gotten to the point where he was so bored he spent a lot of each day in the Vietnam vet forums, something he’d never done outside of his family room at home. The recent election campaign had raised awareness of prisoner of war issues and even though the majority of America only knew Vietnam from movies, history books and stories it meant something else to an aging generation of men and the wounds seemed fresh for Steve. He’d gone from being depressed to being withdrawn and was now getting angry. There were a fresh batch of antagonists in the forums, minimizing POW suffering and throwing gasoline on the memories of the veterans.
He wrote a long email to Robert that detailed the progress, asked what the next steps should be and also inquired as to when he’d be back from D.C. Steve thought about other work he could focus on but everything that crossed his mind was very Foundation oriented and he didn’t want to get into any legal situations with where the testing had been done, especially since the government was involved. In the area adjacent to the lab was a well equipped machine shop with a mill, lathe, band saw and grinder. Though it was against common sense safety rules Steve spent a couple of days honing his skills on the lathe, starting with softer plastics and working his way to stainless steel, which was much harder to work with. There was some satisfaction in working with his hands and keeping his mind off chemistry. He had some old oak around the house and thought he could make Claire something interesting for their anniversary, which was in a few weeks.
Robert sat in a conference room somewhere in the D.C. corridor along with a dozen or so other men and women. His boss, James Richards, had been reading him the riot act for the past week, wanting some results and asking a lot of questions. This was their bi-weekly staff meeting, where all of the agents came back from the field if at all possible to provide most current information about their activities. Anna Flores was talking about possible infiltration of a fraud ring in Florida, something she’d been working for almost a year. It was a very complex operation and there were times when it was tougher for a woman field agent to make entry because of the male biases but she was doing a good job and said the hook was set. Terry Horvath went next, he was involved with stopping illegal immigration activities that were happening on the Mexico/Texas border. This was a newer class of activities though, with a lot of Asians coming in via Mexico, especially from China. Robert wondered how they ever got out of China with all the surveillance the Chinese government has in place. Maybe they were abroad and looking to defect. The reports were largely uninteresting and Robert was daydreaming when James asked him to provide his update.
“The chatter continues but has slowed down in the past few weeks, not sure if they’re getting ready to move or still mobilizing. It’s still unclear what the specific threat is but it appears to be either chemical or biological in nature.”
“I thought you said last time that you were sure it was biological in nature and very specific to smallpox.” Terry said.
“That’s what the early reports looked like when we analyzed them. I’m following up on some possible mitigations in the event we do have an outbreak. If it is smallpox, one of the problems we’re going to have is vaccination. We don’t know if people who were vaccinated decades ago are really immune and there is an entire generation that has not been vaccinated against the disease.”
“So what, specifically, do you really know?” Anna asked.
“I know that there’s something going on and that smallpox is possibly involved and it’s going to take time to get to the bottom of it!” Robert snapped back, suddenly red in the face at having to defend his work.
“Don’t take it personally but when we’re talking about an attack on our own soil I get nervous in a hurry.” Anna replied.
Robert clammed up and refused to acknowledge her reply. They all worked with him for years, should know by now not to question every detail and step in the process – Robert is damn good at what he does and way beyond being micromanaged.
“Settle down Robert, we all know that you’re making progress. You’re working on the touchiest case right now and we all want to be kept up to date.” James looked at Robert and wondered if the old man wasn’t really hiding something. He’d been assigned to this section a couple of years ago and had a great relationship with the team but always wondered about Robert, who worked alone, only shared information when it helped him with an investigation, and used unorthodox tactics to get results. He was what the whole “spook” image was based on and he earned that image. Robert knew things about people, embarrassing and illegal things that kept him protected. He had been assigned to James as a punishment because James hadn’t handled a situation in Central America well. Robert knew all of the details, how James went from paradise back to D.C. and almost out on his ass in a matter of a few weeks. He sat and stared at James, unwilling to budge on his silence and basically calling him out as weak. James had no choice but to move on after attempting to get Robert to say anything else about his current assignment.
The rest of the meeting went quickly, everyone else understanding the mood that their boss was in and not in the enviable position of having leverage against him. Nobody wanted to turn James’ anger against them. They shuffled out of the room when the meeting was called to an end, Robert still sitting in his chair, not interested in all of the small talk that accompanied a walk back to their work area, which was in another building on the campus. James also stayed behind and Robert rolled his eyes and let out an audible groan, knowing what was coming, the never ending tug of war.
“When are you going to start being a team player?”
“How many times are we going to have this conversation? I get the job done, work alone and answer to pretty much nobody in this company or country.”
“One of these days you’re going to get yourself in a jam and won’t have anyone there to bail you out. This isn’t the 1970s anymore, we have had enough public controversy over the past decade and want to portray a much more positive image. Those who refuse will be shipped out, mark my words.” James didn’t wait for a reply, simply got up and walked out of the room, steam coming out of his ears. Robert enjoyed the moment and had lost count long ago how many times they’ve had something like that conversation. He checked his cell phone voice mail messages. Steve had called again; Robert didn’t like the fact that he required so much hand holding. It was important that he kept him isolated and focused on the task at hand.
He dropped by his desk, logged on to his computer and read email, picked up other correspondence and left the building without saying another word. There was some new information from the CDC that had been hand couriered over and he was interested to see what in
formation Atlanta had sent. The ride home was short and there was no traffic but as he got out of his car the skies opened up and he was nearly soaked by the time he stepped into his house. He poured himself some scotch and sat down at the dining room table to review the CDC information.
The document was market Top Secret and Robert was surprised as he reviewed the contents that they’d passed it to him. There was information detailing the CDC’s own and sponsored research activities into smallpox and some results that were quite staggering. Turns out that the CDC had in its possession a strain of such virulence that they were reluctant to compare it to the ferocity of known strains. It hadn’t been easy to get a copy of this report and Robert knew that there wasn’t a person within the CDC who would admit to the information or releasing it to anyone. Fortunately for him, he had strong leverage over a senior director there and had politely reminded him of some of the messes he had cleaned up for him and how it would be embarrassing if that information was released to the press. The man had some choice words to say to Robert and slammed the phone down but the material came just the same. It was about the result, the ends always justified the means.
The first fifteen years of Robert’s career with the CIA had primarily revolved around traveling the world cleaning up other peoples’ messes. His job was one that nobody else wanted and he relished because when he came into a situation he had every local asset as his disposal for the duration, no questions asked. Robert was smart though, capturing photographic evidence of all of his trips using Polaroid cameras and tucking the pictures and notes away where nobody could find them. He knew that if he didn’t have leverage there would come a day when he would be cleaned. There had been a couple of close calls and Robert had been saved by showing copies of what would be released in the event of his death. He didn’t mention who all knew where his stash was for fear that those people would conveniently disappear at the same time. Truth was that nobody else knew where everything was and only a few close friends had ever seen bits and pieces of it, but there was enough of a whisper that he was off hit lists throughout the government and especially in the CIA.
Many of the people that Robert had helped over the years had grown in responsibility and were now leaders in various branches of the government. He had about ten more years of good leverage built up and didn’t plan on working that much longer. He scanned the rest of his mail and shredded it, nothing there. The CDC report was worth a second look and he thought if the North Koreans were even close to something this strong there could be big trouble. He thought of calling his CDC contact to thank him for the report but didn’t want to rub it in. He scanned the information and encrypted it on his hard drive, validated that he had it, backed up the encrypted data and shredded the report.
The sun was setting behind the gloom and Robert was on his third scotch. He was going back to Ohio in the morning but was now restless. He lit the fireplace and burned the contents of his shredder, never can be too careful. The fire did nothing to ease his edginess so he decided to take a walk, ending up at the Metro station that was about a half mile from his house. He rode around and switched trains a few times, mostly out of habit, before departing at a station across town, not in the best neighborhood of our nation’s capital.
The walk to the strip club was dangerous but Robert enjoyed the feeling that someone may come after him, sometimes looked forward to it. Even though he looked like a bird, there was a sense that he gave observers that he wasn’t to be messed with. Part of it was the fact that he dressed like an inner city detective and nobody wanted to get up a cop’s ass in this town. There were too many businessmen and low ranking government workers who made good marks. Robert even stopped by a group of thugs and made small talk, asking if there were any new street walkers that didn’t mind the rough stuff. There were some shrugs and Robert knew they weren’t going to help him, probably thought he was D.C. vice, so he continued to the strip club.
Robert was in the V.I.P. booth with a young thing who called herself Chandi, rhymes with Candy. She reminded him of some of the girls from Vietnam that he’d enjoyed during his tours there and he knew that it was going to be a fun night. She was shy, not knowing how far she could go. Before long she’d be giving head back there without concern but for now she was trying to stick by the rules. Robert kept his hands to himself, making her feel as comfortable as possible as he fed twenty dollar bills into her g-string. The girl was getting giddy from the money, it was unusual for this club to attract people with real money, she was usually stuck with groping drunks milking their last fifty bucks.
After almost an hour in the booth Robert popped the question. “Do you ever take your talent outside the club?”
“We’re not allowed to do that, don’t want to lose my job.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t, just thought you might like to pick up a couple thousand dollars for a few hours of fun.”
The girl thought of her young kids at home and how long it normally took to make two grand. That would get her through a few slow weeks and let her buy some new stuff. “What do you have in mind? You’ve probably heard this before but I’ve never sold my body for sex.”
“Oh, I believe it but I’m sure you have some special talents that someone like me could appreciate.”
“Just you and me? I’m not into multiple person sex.”
“Just the two of us in a quiet place from when the club closes until breakfast. I’ll even buy you breakfast if you’re up for it.”
“Let me make a phone call and think about it for a while.” Robert knew the hook was set and she probably just needed to let her mother or aunt or whoever she lived with know that she wouldn’t be home until the morning.
“Couple of things though. If you decide to do it I want you to take these pills. Even though you’ll be into it, it helps when there’s a little Ecstasy involved.”
She thought about it for a minute and started to get scared. Robert sensed this and pulled out five hundred dollar bills from his pocket. “Tell you what, I’m asking you to do something for me so I’ll show some faith. Here’s five hundred, take it and the pills and if you don’t want to come with me at the end of your shift you can just go home.”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah, just like that. As you can tell, I’m not the prettiest man on the planet and have done this a time or two in my life. Everything goes much better this way.” She took the money and then took the pills, Robert watching them slide down her slim, caramel colored throat. Now all he had to do was pay the manager a few hundred bucks to get her out of here in the next hour or so, as soon as she was done with her next set. He took a handful of Viagra, keeping the roofies and ecstasy for another date time. The manager settled for three hundred, which was cheap to Robert, so he ordered another scotch and waited in anticipation. As luck would have it, Chandi was up second so he only had to wait about twenty minutes and they were out the door. The girl said she was feeling strange but by the time they got to the CIA safe house a few miles away any inhibition she had was long gone.
The night was a blur for Robert and would be a blank for the girl, who was completely pliable to his twisted needs and was a pawn in his game of control and reliving the memories of his time overseas. Robert had taken out all of his anger and frustration in Vietnam using the local women, who relied on the world’s oldest profession to feed their families. He was ruthless, cruel and inflicted endless pain on the girls. Chandi was so high from the drugs that she just grinned when he hurt her, which made him go harder. By the time he was done, she looked like she’d been taken behind a building and attacked by several men. He helped her get her clothes on and basically carried her to the car. Breakfast for her was out of the question but he couldn’t have a cab pick her up here or drive her home, didn’t want to end up answering questions later. She was able to recite her address so Robert drove toward downtown D.C. and found a cabbie who was happy for a hundred dollar fare. Robert told him that if the girl didn’t get home in
one piece he was going to hunt him down and it wouldn’t be pretty for him. The cabbie nodded acknowledgement and helped load Chandi into the cab. Robert had buried three thousand dollars in her purse while he was getting her ready, knowing that he had received more value than that in return and she might need to see a doctor when the drugs wore off. He raced to the airport in time to catch his flight back to Cleveland, the girl long out of his mind by the time the short flight ended.
Steve was sitting in his office when he heard the front door chime. He thought it might be a delivery and was surprised when it turned out to be Robert. The man looked like he’d been awake for days and had been beat up, he could hardly walk.
“Are you ok? Looks like you got beat up.”
“Rough night last night, didn’t get much sleep. How have things been going here? Are you ready to start working with the vaccine?”
“I think so, the last batch came out as predicted and the material is edible. I ran some tests by ingesting some of them made with a small release cycle. My urine was Technicolor the past few days, kind of fun.”
“Glad to hear you’re having fun. I got a communication from the CDC while I was back there and it looks like the North Korean strain may be worse than projected. My boss is all over my back to move forward, we have a full support team back in D.C. in case we need anything.”
Robert went to his office and closed the door behind him. Steve could picture him climbing into the small sofa in the office to sleep off whatever he’d been through during this trip. He found it odd that the CDC could have a sample of whatever the North Koreans were developing and Steve wondered how they would get it. Maybe they had people inside the government over there. He shrugged and went down to the lab, not hearing from Robert the rest of the day.