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Authors: James M. Tabor
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from her lab and was not happy. “And who is
he
?”
“Agent Rivers is with HHS. Office of Internal Security.”
Rhodes was smooth and utterly composed. A lawyer’s lawyer. His cologne smelled like sun-warmed roses. The other one wore a cheap suit and his tie had a stain just below the knot. A double-dipping ex-cop or maybe ex-Bureau.
His
cologne smelled like industrial disinfectant. Rivers’s face was a collection of wrinkles and pinches from a lifetime of frowning. Rhodes’s was smooth as dark ice. He had a thick neck and that quiet, precise voice. A manila folder lay in front of him, perfectly squared to the angles of the table. Looking at it, and at his huge hands, she saw that he wore a Penn State ring.
Linebacker
, she thought.
“You need to know that I am in the middle of extremely critical—”
“We
know
whachure workin’ on.” Rivers cut her off, bored, looking at the ceiling.
“And we are aware of its importance.” Rhodes kept his eyes on hers. “That’s one reason we’re here. There has been a security breach. Traced to you.”
First came denial: she laughed. “A security breach? Is this some kind of prank? Did Don Barnard put you up to this? The lab people?”
“No joke, Doc.” Rivers hacked out a smoker’s phlegmy rattle. He did not cover his mouth, and microdroplets of saliva sprayed the table.
Buy time
. “Show me some ID, gentlemen.”
They had valid credentials. Rivers’s included a gold badge with blue numbers. When he put his black leather ID folder away, she noted that he made sure to flash the Glock 9mm in its brown Bianchi shoulder holster.
“What kind of complaint?”
“It appears that you have been providing secure research information to an outside party for unauthorized remuneration.”
She translated the bureaucratese in her mind. “You’re talking about selling government secrets?”
“That’s right.”
“First, that is a lie.” Hallie tried not to sound like it, but she was furious and afraid. “Second, if there is to be an investigation, you are required first to inform me and my immediate superior, allow me to retain counsel, and present your allegations before a panel headed by the associate director of science and including at least one CDC employee of my choosing.”
“You’ve read your personnel manual.” Rhodes seemed impressed.
Rivers did not. “What the
personnel manual
don’t include is that with national security, that
personnel process
goes in the dumpster.”
National security
. Twenty-first-century McCarthyism.
“How long has this inquiry been going on?”
“I’m not at liberty to divulge that.” Rhodes tapped the manila folder with his index finger. A fly buzzed around Rivers, who seemed not to notice. “But we’re confident that a court would find probable cause to believe a security breach occurred and that you were responsible.”
“This is insane!” Hallie jumped out of her chair. “I’m getting the hell out of here and calling my lawyer, gentlemen.”
Rhodes’s voice, soft but urgent, stopped her. “Dr.
Leland
. I seriously advise you to wait. Hear us out. Then you can always retain counsel … and so forth.”
That was reasonable. Still furious, she sat back down. “So tell me.”
“Emails have been intercepted. From your home computer to and from an external source, containing secure BARDA information. Deposits have also been tracked to an account in your name at Grand Cayman National Bank. They correspond to payments and dates in the emails.”
“This is unbelievable. I don’t have a Cayman account, Mr. Rhodes. Never have.”
Rivers suddenly sat up straight, put his elbows on the table. “We don’t even have to talk to you, Doc. We could refer this to the United States attorney. Like
that
.” He snapped his fingers and in the small room it sounded like a slap. “For criminal charges.”
It was like trying to fight her way through a whiteout in the mountains, no points of reference, cliffs and
he
?”
“Agent Rivers is with HHS. Office of Internal Security.”
Rhodes was smooth and utterly composed. A lawyer’s lawyer. His cologne smelled like sun-warmed roses. The other one wore a cheap suit and his tie had a stain just below the knot. A double-dipping ex-cop or maybe ex-Bureau.
His
cologne smelled like industrial disinfectant. Rivers’s face was a collection of wrinkles and pinches from a lifetime of frowning. Rhodes’s was smooth as dark ice. He had a thick neck and that quiet, precise voice. A manila folder lay in front of him, perfectly squared to the angles of the table. Looking at it, and at his huge hands, she saw that he wore a Penn State ring.
Linebacker
, she thought.
“You need to know that I am in the middle of extremely critical—”
“We
know
whachure workin’ on.” Rivers cut her off, bored, looking at the ceiling.
“And we are aware of its importance.” Rhodes kept his eyes on hers. “That’s one reason we’re here. There has been a security breach. Traced to you.”
First came denial: she laughed. “A security breach? Is this some kind of prank? Did Don Barnard put you up to this? The lab people?”
“No joke, Doc.” Rivers hacked out a smoker’s phlegmy rattle. He did not cover his mouth, and microdroplets of saliva sprayed the table.
Buy time
. “Show me some ID, gentlemen.”
They had valid credentials. Rivers’s included a gold badge with blue numbers. When he put his black leather ID folder away, she noted that he made sure to flash the Glock 9mm in its brown Bianchi shoulder holster.
“What kind of complaint?”
“It appears that you have been providing secure research information to an outside party for unauthorized remuneration.”
She translated the bureaucratese in her mind. “You’re talking about selling government secrets?”
“That’s right.”
“First, that is a lie.” Hallie tried not to sound like it, but she was furious and afraid. “Second, if there is to be an investigation, you are required first to inform me and my immediate superior, allow me to retain counsel, and present your allegations before a panel headed by the associate director of science and including at least one CDC employee of my choosing.”
“You’ve read your personnel manual.” Rhodes seemed impressed.
Rivers did not. “What the
personnel manual
don’t include is that with national security, that
personnel process
goes in the dumpster.”
National security
. Twenty-first-century McCarthyism.
“How long has this inquiry been going on?”
“I’m not at liberty to divulge that.” Rhodes tapped the manila folder with his index finger. A fly buzzed around Rivers, who seemed not to notice. “But we’re confident that a court would find probable cause to believe a security breach occurred and that you were responsible.”
“This is insane!” Hallie jumped out of her chair. “I’m getting the hell out of here and calling my lawyer, gentlemen.”
Rhodes’s voice, soft but urgent, stopped her. “Dr.
Leland
. I seriously advise you to wait. Hear us out. Then you can always retain counsel … and so forth.”
That was reasonable. Still furious, she sat back down. “So tell me.”
“Emails have been intercepted. From your home computer to and from an external source, containing secure BARDA information. Deposits have also been tracked to an account in your name at Grand Cayman National Bank. They correspond to payments and dates in the emails.”
“This is unbelievable. I don’t have a Cayman account, Mr. Rhodes. Never have.”
Rivers suddenly sat up straight, put his elbows on the table. “We don’t even have to talk to you, Doc. We could refer this to the United States attorney. Like
that
.” He snapped his fingers and in the small room it sounded like a slap. “For criminal charges.”
It was like trying to fight her way through a whiteout in the mountains, no points of reference, cliffs and
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