Page 58 of Every Last Breath

He’d been ticked they’d lost the bioweapon, but his obvious concern for their welfare, his relief they were alive, had been overwhelming. Undeniable. Her gut was sure that Sanborn could be trusted with the full truth, with their lives, but listening to her head was for the best.

“The news station?” Gideon asked.

“Yeah.” Cutter yawned. “The one right next to the Department of Homeland Security and the National Presbyterian Church.”

“The drone tracked Novak and his companion after they exited the building but lost them somewhere in the square,” Sanborn said. “We only had one drone, so we also lost the helo and Van Helden, which means we have no link to the seller. Willow managed to get a tail number and she’s trying to track down the helicopter.”

For a second time, the Ghost had slipped right through their fists.

Harper rushed into the conference room and handed Maddox two folders. “Thick one is everything on Aleksander Novak. Slim one is everything unclassified, the way you asked.”

“Thanks.” Maddox guzzled more coffee and opened the thick folder.

Sipping coffee from a flag football mug, Sanborn gave Harper the nod to begin. She tapped the screen on the table, bringing up a picture of the Ghost.

A phantom vise tightened around Maddox’s neck. She massaged her throat, trying to erase the sensation of asphyxiation, of dying. No air. Choking. Fear throbbing in her heart.

Remember this mercy, Agent Maddox Kinkade.

“Aleksander Novak. Born November 4, 1969, in Berat, Albania. Served as a sharpshooter in the Albanian Special Forces. Married Sonia Shehu March 9, 1987. Son Valmir, born later that year. Daughter Mila born 1995.”

Harper clutched a pen, fingers strained bloodless, disgorging facts about his military service without any notes, validating her reputation as the factinator. No other analyst could sort through copious amounts of data, stringing together the relevant pieces and memorizing it, in such astonishing time.

Maddox fingered through the thick file while Harper briefed everyone.

Novak had a pristine military record. Special Operations Battalion, most elite unit in the Albanian Army. One of the finest sharpshooters in his battalion, broke records for number of kills, known for going deep and staying out in the field for long periods. Several early promotions. Commendations and decorations up the wazoo.

“There was a photo of the son as a young boy in his file,” Harper said. “I ran it through age-progression software. Ninety-five percent probability he was the man with the Ghost on the yacht.”

“Any idea about the current whereabouts of his wife and daughter?” Sanborn asked.

“No, sir.”

“How does a highly decorated guy in special forces go from the fast track to becoming an assassin stealing a bioweapon?” Maddox wondered out loud. They were missing something.

“Harper, what kind of discharge did he get?” Castle asked.

“Honorable, with thirteen years of service. He had just reenlisted the year prior. After he left the army, he fell off the grid with his family. There’s nothing on him until the CIA started tracking him as the Ghost.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.” Maddox shook her head. “He reenlisted three times. That was a career for him and he was one of their best. Why would they discharge him after he’d just signed up to do four more years?” She looked around the room, but of course everyone was stumped the same as her.

“Lifers don’t just quit,” Reece said. “And distinguished lifers aren’t honorably discharged right after re-upping. There’s more to the story. A lot more.”

Maddox rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension in her muscles. “Harper, reach out to the Albanian Army under the guise of Homeland Security and try to find out why he left.”

Harper nodded and sat, strumming her fingers on the desk. Sanborn flicked a glance at her hand.

Catching the look, she cleared her throat and started playing with her necklace. “That’s all I have.”

“From the deep web video, I estimate that if the bioweapon is released out in the open,” Doc said, “say on the street, depending on the wind speed and direction, it would infect those within a one-hundred- to two-hundred-yard radius. If this was deployed in the air system of a contained air-conditioned environment such as a mall, there’s no telling how many could be infected. If the weapon sold had a larger payload than what we saw on the video, that changes things again.”

Doc brought up a startling pictograph on the monitor, showing potential branches of infection based on exposure and contact.

“We know this new strain takes five days to kill a person,” Doc said, “and in the initial four hours before someone knows they’re sick, they’ll infect everyone they encounter. The old vaccine immunities will be irrelevant. The worst-case scenario is if it’s deployed in an international airport. It could spread to any city in the world within a day and we’d have a pandemic within weeks. I’m talking a potentially species-threatening event.”

“Goodness.” Cutter leaned back in his chair, horror stamped on his face.

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Gideon said, cool and detached, chewing on gum.