Chapter 14

It was nearly three in the morning before Mike finished 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 of the 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.