“Fire department officials tell us they've detected traces of fluorine gas in the victim's classroom, though they haven't confirmed whether this was the cause of death,” the reporter went on.“The highly toxic chemical can be fatal in small concentrations and would explain the rapid onset of symptoms that apparently left Morrison unable to call for help.”
Miles paused the video and stared at the screen.Fluorine gas.It was impossible to not try attaching this to everything he'd been tracking for three years.
He pulled up his mental catalog of elemental murders.Hydrogen in Detroit.Helium in Portland.Lithium in Phoenix.The sequence had continued through eight elements before Diana Hartwell's gold murders in San Francisco.If this was connected, if his theory was correct, then someone had resumed the periodic table killings with fluorine.
His hands shook slightly as he considered not only what this meant, but as he began to formulate a plan in his mind.Elena would be in meetings all morning at her pharmaceutical lab.She wouldn't see the news reports until later.Which meant he had time to act before she could voice the concerns he already knew she'd have.He had no doubt that if she saw or heard about the story, she’dknowwhere his head was going.
Miles saved the news articles to his computer and exited his office in a hurry.The walk to Assistant Director Hayes' office felt like the longest five minutes of his professional life.Every step carried him further away from the quiet laboratory work Elena and his better sense wanted him to focus on… and deeper into the world of elemental killers that had consumed his thoughts for weeks since San Francisco.
Hayes' door was open when Miles arrived, but the assistant director was on a conference call.Miles waited in the hallway, checking his phone for additional news updates.The story was spreading quickly through local media.Parents were demanding answers about chemical safety at schools.The mayor's office had issued a statement about increasing security in all public buildings.
“Sterling.”Hayes' voice called from inside the office.“I saw you lurking around out there.Come on in.”
Miles entered to find Hayes pushing aside a stack of documents to allow for less clutter in front of him.By the look of the mess on his desk—forms and files and papers—he’d been quite busy these past few days.
“I assume you're here about the school incident,” Hayes said without looking up from his paperwork.
“Perceptive as always, sir,” Miles replied, jokingly, before realizing this wasn’t the sort of situation he should joke about.
“Well, as I’m sure you know, local PD and hazmat teams are handling the scene.The bureau won't be involved unless they request federal assistance.”
“Sir, I think this is connected to the San Francisco case.”
Hayes' pen stopped moving across the page.He looked up with the expression of someone who'd been expecting this conversation, but hoping to avoid it.
“Connected how?”he asked.
“Fluorine gas, sir.It’s element number nine.The victim was a kindergarten teacher, someone who worked with children and represented innocence and education.The precision of the attack, the symbolic choice of location.It fits the pattern I've been tracking.”
“The pattern that died with Diana Hartwell.”Hayes set down his pen and leaned back in his chair.“Sterling, we've been through this.Your periodic table theory was interesting, but it ended when we arrested Hartwell.She's dead.The case is closed.”
“But what if she wasn't working alone?”Miles pulled out his phone and showed Hayes the news article.“Look at the sophistication of this attack.Fluorine gas is extremely difficult to handle safely.Just like melted gold.It requires specialized knowledge and equipment.The same kind of technical expertise we saw in San Francisco.”
Hayes read the article quickly, his expression growing more serious as he absorbed the details.“This could be a copycat,” he said.“Someone inspired by the media coverage of Hartwell's crimes.”But Miles heard no conviction in his tone.Even Hayes knew this was a poor excuse.
“Or it could be someone from the same organization.Someone who's continuing the sequence where Hartwell left off.”Miles felt his excitement building as he articulated the theory he'd been developing since reading the news report.“Sir, if I'm right about this, we could be dealing with a coordinated group that's been operating for years.Multiple perpetrators, multiple cities, all following the same periodic table methodology.”
“And if you're wrong, you'll be chasing shadows while a real killer operates without any connection to your theory.”Hayes stood up and walked to his window, looking out at the Quantico training grounds.“We’ve had this damned conversationtoo many times,Sterling.”Hayes took a deep breath to calm himself and locked eyed with Miles.“Look… you did good work in San Francisco.Excellent work.But you can't turn every unusual death into evidence of a vast conspiracy.”
Miles felt frustration building in his chest.“Then let me investigate.Give me forty-eight hours to examine the crime scene and determine whether this is connected to the other cases.If I can't establish a link, I'll drop the theory entirely.”
“You'll drop it entirely?”
“Yes, sir.”He felt a sting at making this promise, not fully processing what it could mean.
Hayes was quiet for a long moment.Miles figured he was weighing the request against the political implications of deploying federal resources on what might be just an isolated, local crime.Miles could see his boss calculating the costs and benefits of indulging another of his analytical hunches.
“If I authorize this, you work with Agent Stone again.I'm not sending you into the field alone.”
“Of course, sir.Agent Stone's fieldwork was essential to solving the San Francisco case.I’d be thrilled to work with her again.”
“And you focus specifically on determining whether this incident connects to your periodic table theory.No expanding the scope.No pursuing tangential leads.You answer one question: is this fluorine death related to Diana Hartwell's gold murders?”
Miles nodded eagerly.“That's exactly what I want to investigate.”
Hayes shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he’d just caved, and reached for his phone.“I'll contact Stone and have her meet you at the crime scene.You have forty-eight hours, Sterling.If you can't prove a connection in that time, you're back to laboratory work permanently.No more field investigations.No more periodic table theories.Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.Completely clear.”
