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Story: Edge of Danger
“Could that be the target? Las Vegas?” she asked sharply.
“We’re not sure the helicopter has anything to do with that attack,” Ian cautioned her. “For all we know, the helicopter isa preparation for another attack at a later time. Or part of an escape plan.”
Piper frowned. “I think the PHP has one grand gesture in it. They don’t strike me as the types to engage in a prolonged terrorist campaign. They’ll do one thing and then want to retreat to their compound and resume their regularly scheduled reclusive lives.”
“I concur with that,” Alex added. “They don’t have the resources to sustain an ongoing terror network.”
“Not unless El Noor plans to bankroll them for the foreseeable future,” Ian commented.
Alex replied, “If I were building an effective terror network, I would pick people more suited to the task. These PHP guys are amateurs. Honestly, as a group, they’re little more than subsistence farmers. There are a few men with educations of note among them—Joseph Brothers has an electrical engineering degree, for example. But most of them are pretty average.”
“Okay. So they’re one-shot wonders. If that’s the case, the helicopter must play into their one big plan.”
“Along with the Cessna in their shop,” Piper added.
“You could ram each of them into a structure 9/11-fashion,” Ian suggested.
She shook her head. “The damage two small aircraft could inflict on a big building would be minimal. If we’re talking about Las Vegas, the casinos are sprawling places with low concentrations of people at any one spot within their structures. Given all the elaborate planning and coordination that seems to have gone into this attack, aiming for such a small end result seems unlikely.”
“I agree,” Alex chimed in. “I’ll think about what I’d do with two small aircraft if I were El Noor. Meanwhile, you two becareful. Whoever’s behind this EL Noor persona is rich, smart, and dangerous.”
“Kinda like you, huh?” Ian quipped.
Alex hung up without deigning to respond to the jab.
She felt like they had all the pieces but hadn’t yet discovered the shape of the puzzle. If only they had some idea of the big picture, it felt as if all the little pieces would fall into place quickly.
Ian looked over at her and smiled wryly. “Hey, baby. Wanna go to Vegas?”
15
Piper stepped through the glass door Ian held for her and into the lobby of the regional CDC office in a Las Vegas hospital. She told a receptionist their names and that they had an appointment with the office’s medical director.
She and Ian cooled their jets for about ten minutes before being shown back into a typical doctor’s examining room.
“You did tell this guy we’re working on a possible viral outbreak, right?” Ian muttered.
“Maybe he thought it was us infected,” she muttered back.
The door opened and a bespectacled doctor in a white lab coat stepped into the room. “Hello. I’m Doctor Vargas. How can I help you?”
“You’ve gotten the alerts from the FBI to be on the lookout for unusual viral infections? Particularly of a hemorrhagic nature?” Piper asked.
“Yes, yes. We have a protocol for such things with the local emergency rooms and urgent care clinics. Everyone’s on high alert.”
Jeez. The guy sounded bored out of his mind.
“This is a credible and real threat, Doctor Vargas,” she responded sharply.
“Do you have any idea how often a high visibility city like Las Vegas is the possible target of a terrorist attack? We go through this routine at least three times a year. And those are just the credible threats. We know how to respond, young lady.”
“So there are currently no flu-like symptom outbreaks being reported locally?”
“No. I’d hear about them if there were.” The man shook his head. “All this fuss about Ebola. Yes, we’ve had a few cases of it brought into the U.S. But we contained it successfully. While its symptoms can be spectacular, it’s just not that contagious a disease. I do wish all you conspiracy theorists would get over your fixation on it.”
Piper opened her mouth to tell the guy that a genetically engineered form of the virus damned well was worth fixating on, but Ian surreptitiously took her hand and squeezed it painfully tight. She got the message. Reluctantly, she snapped her jaw shut.
“Okay, Doctor. Thank you for your help,” Ian said pleasantly. “For the record, the FBI is taking this particular threat seriously. We have direct intelligence that an attack may have already happened and be in an incubation phase.”
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