“You must be the woman who wanted to talk to me,” Dr. Olson said.

  Alex nodded, knowing that he had stopped by the office and Jeanne had told him. “Yes, sir, I am. Do you think you will have any students coming by? I don’t want to interrupt if you do.”

  Dr. Olson shook his head. “No, I doubt it today. Too soon in the semester. Another two weeks and I will have them lined up halfway down the hall. But, who do I have the pleasure of meeting with now?”

  Alex stuck out her hand and Dr. Olson shook it. “My name is Alex Watkins.” She pulled out her identification and showed it to him.

  He blew out his breath. “Department of Justice. This must be something important.”

  “Yes, sir. It might very well be. That is what I need your help with.”

  “Okay. Then I think we had better go inside.”

  Dr. Olson took his keys out of his suit coat pocket, unlocked the door, opened it and then flipped the light on as he walked inside his office. Alex followed him inside, closing the door behind her. She needed this conversation to be private.

  The office was small, about ten feet wide and twelve feet long. Fortunately, he did not share the office with anyone else. A five-foot long dark oak desk sat near the back of the room. On both sides of the room were two six-foot wide and five-foot tall bookcases, each filled to capacity with technical books. She had no idea that someone had published that many books on biochemistry. A table behind his desk held a printer and a microscope. Test tubes, a box of glass slides and other smaller items used with the microscope were also sitting on the table.

  Dr. Olson went behind his desk, sat down on his desk the file folders he was carrying and then he sat down on his chair. Two wooden chairs sat in front of his desk. Alex sat down on one of them. She took a deep breath. She was nervous. Nervous to find out what the formula is. Nervous what Dr. Olson’s reaction to it will be. A knot in the pit of her stomach told her this is not going to be good news. Still finding out what the formula is will be a major clue.

  Dr. Olson laid his arms on his desk and looked at Alex. “So, what can I help you with?”

  Alex opened the notebook, turned to the page with the formula and then laid the notebook on his desk, turning it so it was facing Dr. Olson.

  “Can you tell me what this formula is?” she asked, pointing to what she figured was the final formula.

  Dr. Olson pulled the notebook closer and read the formula. Alex watched as his face darkened. That is not a good sign. Then he sucked in his breath. He looked up at her.

  “Where did you get this?” he angrily asked.

  “From a man who worked as a biochemist at a nearby company that I am investigating. He is deceased, but his wife gave the notebook to me. It was the last project he was working on before he died.”

  “When was this project started?”

  “About two weeks ago, but I am sure he finished it at least a week and a half ago.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Is someone actually making this?”

  Alex shrugged. “I am not sure. Why?”

  “You better hope to god no one is.”

  Dr. Olson was angry and the sternness of his voice told her he not only knew what the formula made, but the answer she needed is not going to be good either.

  “Why? What is it a formula of?”

  He blew out his breath and his face relaxed a bit. “Mostly, it is a chemical substance called Tabun. It is extremely toxic; it’s a colorless and tasteless liquid with a faint fruity odor. It is classified as a nerve agent. It is also controlled and stockpiling is outlawed. But, there is a bigger problem with this formula. This chemical is combined with another nerve agent called cyclosarin. Cyclosarin is also a liquid, but it is very volatile. So, if these two nerve agents are used together in a missile, it will explode even more than the missile itself would normally do and with the wind the explosion makes, the liquid will dissipate and quickly spread.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why they combined these two, but this is the worst I have ever seen.”

  Alex leaned back against the chair. She closed her eyes a moment, slowing let out the breath she had been holding, as what Dr. Olson told her sunk in. Now she knew why the three men died. They knew about the nerve agents, knew what they would do and figured out what someone was going to do with the formula and the container. More than likely Michael and Peter conferred with Sam Mulligan. They may not have known who is going to use the formula and container, but they understood would happen. She looked at Dr. Olson.

  “Basically, this is chemical warfare, isn’t it?”

  Dr. Olson nodded. “Yes, it is. Is this going to be made in the U.S.?”

  Was it? She had no idea what country was involved. The only thing she knew was that the emails went out of the U.S. Alex shook her head. “I don’t think so. My guess is some country outside the U.S. will get the formula and a prototype of the container the liquid will be used in.”

  “Do you also know what the container is?”

  Alex nodded. “Yes. I have a diagram of it that the man who developed it wrote. As far as I can determine, the container is six inches long, four inches around and metal will be used.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I certainly hope you can stop this. The container is only as good as what goes inside. No one needs to get this formula. Do you know what is going on?”

  Alex shook her head. “Not completely, but with this information I am getting a good idea.”

  “And you can’t tell me?”

  “No, sir, I am sorry I can’t,” she said shaking her head. “Although, I guarantee I will make sure no one gets this formula.” She pulled out her notepad and made a note of the two nerve agents the formula represented. Mr. Jenkins is not going to like this news.

  “Thank you. And I hope you get whoever is behind this.”

  Alex looked up at him and nodded. “Yes, sir, I definitely will.” She was not sure right now how she is going to do that, but she is definitely going to try.

  Alex put her notepad and pen back in her purse, stood up, shook hands with Dr. Olson and thanked him for his help. Then she picked up the notebook, said goodbye and walked out of his office.

  Ten minutes later, she got into her Cherokee. She sat for a few minutes. What should she do? Tell Mr. Jenkins what she had found? She could, but until she knew who is going to get this information, then she would have to wait. She still had a few hours before she met with Jillian and Ken, so she had to do more research. She had to find out which country someone is dealing with.

  CHAPTER 22

  When Alex got home, her mind was racing. The formula was dangerous at best, extremely deadly at worst. She could not imagine why anyone would want this formula. Someone with a vendetta against someone else was the only explanation. Somehow, she has to stop this. But, first she had to find which country is involved. Then she has to find out who is responsible for this arrangement.

  She dropped her purse on the couch, walked into the kitchen, grabbed a cold Pepsi from the refrigerator, opened it and took a long drink. Then she walked into her office and sat down. She sat the can on her desk. Taking a deep breath, she focused on what she had to do.

  First, she checked the two routers and Phil Abrahamson’s email. Nothing is going on, but she knew it is just a matter of time. The container diagram and the formula are finished. Had Sam Mulligan made the container? No, the email she read said he had finished the diagram, but had not made the prototype. The prototype was probably finished before he died. So, the project is finished. They are using a delay tactic, but when will that end? She was sure it will be soon.

  Alex also realized that no one else was involved. The project finished before the three scientists died. They were playing with whoever they are dealing with. Sounds like something someone in Washington would do. She thought of another problem. What will happen when they notify the country that the project is finished? Is someone going to pick it up from Triangle? Or, deliver it somewhere? Maybe, with luck, that information will come in an email, or she will never know when it happens.

  There is not much she could do right now, except to wait and see what happens. With everything plugged into her laptop, she would know when the end conversations began. Then she will have to decide what to do.

  Just then, Alex heard a sound on her cell phone. She picked up her cell phone. It was a message from Mike. He had sent a file on Michael Simms. She forwarded the file to her desktop computer. Then she opened her email program on her desktop computer and waited for it to come in. Once the file came in, she turned on her printer and printed it out. She wanted to read it, but that will have to come later. There is one more important thing she has to do.

  Alex found the paper where she had written down the destination code she’d found on the Los Angeles router. She had narrowed the code down to where the telephone number the email was going to. The beginning of the number told her it was not in the United States. The number began with 850-2-381 and four more numbers. While she wasn’t sure who the number belonged to, what she was concerned with now is which country it was going to.

  It took just a minute to Google the 850 country code to see which country it belonged to. And when the results came up, Alex was shocked. Oh, my god, she thought. Now what am I going to do?

  Then she began pacing. She had to make a decision, but none was coming. Four hours later, Alex still did not know what she should do. She had paced the floor of her entire condo. She had mentally gone over what would happen if this country got their hands on the container and formula. Somehow she had to stop this from happening, but how?

  She was mentally and physically exhausted when she finally realized it was time to get ready to have dinner with Jillian and Ken. Half an hour later, with Jillian’s laptop and notebook in hand, she walked out of her condo.

  Forty-five minutes later, Alex knocked on the condo door. Jillian opened the door and Alex handed her the laptop and the notebook.

  “Thanks for letting me borrow these,” Alex said.

  “Did you find anything in them?” Jillian anxiously asked.

  Alex nodded. “Yes, I did. I believe I know what your father was working on at the time of his death.”

  “Does it explain why he died?”

  Alex shook her head. “Not directly, but I am beginning to understand why. I just do not have the proof right now, so I will have to tell you that later.” Alex paused a moment. “Are you and Ken ready for dinner?”

  Jillian nodded. “Yes, we are. Where are we going?”

  “Well, there are plenty of choices. What is your favorite meal?”

  Ken came up and stood next to Jillian. He was a head taller than her. She looked up at him and they smiled at each other.

  “Chinese,” they both said at the same time.

  Alex laughed. “Then Chinese it is. I know of a good place near here. Are you both ready to go?”

  Jillian nodded. “Yes, we are.”

  They walked out to Alex’s Cherokee and got inside. Fifteen minutes later, Alex pulled into the restaurant parking lot. Then they got out and walked inside the restaurant.

  Alex had been to this restaurant before and liked the food. She knew Jillian and Ken would too. The restaurant was busy, so they waited for a table to become available. While they waited, she found out what kinds of jobs Jillian and Ken had. They both graduated with business degrees from Georgetown University. Jillian works as a business manager at a major big box store and Ken works as an accountant at a pharmaceutical company, which means their futures are secure.

  Half an hour later, a hostess led them to a table. While they all checked the menus, Alex wondered what to have. She had a Chinese meal yesterday, but there are many choices and this is one of her favorite meals. Actually, she had a lot of favorite meals.

  When the waitress came, she ordered stir-fry beef with rice noodles. Ken and Jillian both ordered dim sum and steamed rice. The waitress nodded and walked away to get their drink orders. While they waited for their meals, Jillian looked at Alex.

  “I have been curious. What happened when you went to my mother’s house yesterday?” she asked.

  Alex shook her head. “It was not a reaction I expected to get from her. I had gone to see the other two widows to see what they knew and your mother was the last stop. When I told her what I was doing, she shook her head and laughed. A man came to the door and stood beside her. She told him what I was doing and he got angry. She told me she knew how he died and did not care to know more. He told me under no circumstances was I to look into the accident.”

  Jillian nodded. “That’s my mother. My parents did not really have a good marriage. He loved his work and she loved the society she runs around with. Just about every day, she is off doing something. Some meeting, a party, or an afternoon tea. I rarely saw her at home when I was growing up.”

  “Did your mother’s family have money?”

  “Oh, yes, they did. My grandmother was not happy when she married my father. He was not the quality type she wanted her daughter to marry. She told me that every time I saw her, right up to the day she died. When both of my mother’s parents died, they left her a lot of money, along with her brother and two sisters. She even left money to my cousins, but not to me. I didn’t care. I hated being around her and the attitude the rest of her family had. I wanted nothing to do with them.” Jillian paused a moment. “You said a man was at my mother’s house? Do you know who it was?”

  Alex nodded. “Yes, I do. Phil Abrahamson. Fortunately, the gardener was there and he gave me his name. He told me a few other things too. Do you know what kind of relationship she has with him?”

  “She has known Phil Abrahamson since my father began working for the company. Has to be about twenty years now. I was young when my dad started working there. Sometimes he came over to the house when my father wasn’t there.”

  “He put his hand protectively around your mother’s waist,” Alex said. “I guessed their relationship was intimate.”

  Jillian nodded. “I wouldn’t doubt it. I think they were having an affair even when my father was alive. As far as I know, it went on for years. He even sat next to my mother during the funeral. Ken and I sat in the row behind her. She never said a word to me during the funeral, at the cemetery or the meal they had for the family at the country club. Not that I minded. I was too much like my father and she didn’t like me any more than she liked him.”

  “What about your father’s side of the family?” Alex asked.

  Jillian perked up. “Oh, I really like them. Dad had two brothers. They were at the funeral, so I got to talk to them. One lives in California and the other is in Washington state. I had not seen them in a while, so it was good to talk to them. My father’s parents died fifteen years ago. But I really liked them too. I always looked forward to when we went to see them.”

  Alex nodded. “At least you have your father’s side of the family to associate with.”

  “Thank goodness for that. I do keep in contact with them and their families.”

  Just then, the waitress came with their meals. For the next hour and a half, they ate and talked, with Jillian and Ken chatting about their work and their plans for the future. Alex was happy for them and was glad Jillian had someone in her life. Except for her father, and Emma the cook, Jillian sure did not have a good home life. She had found out what kind of a person Nancy Mulligan is. Nancy and Phil Abrahamson’s relationship did not surprise her, not after what she had seen yesterday. It still bothered her how vehement they both were about not looking into Sam Mulligan‘s death. Made her wonder if they were responsible for the accident. Or at least knew the accident was going to happen.

  CHAPTER 23

  When Alex got home, her mind was racing. After what Jillian had told her about her mother, it explained a lot. She was sure Nancy Mulligan was having a relationship with Phil Abrahamson, but is that all it is? Somehow she doubted it. Especially after the gardener told her about some of the company he had seen come to the house. She still could not get over the fact that Nancy Mulligan was glad her husband was dead. She did not blame Jillian at all for not wanting to see her mother. If that was her mother, she wouldn’t go see her either.

  Alex grabbed a cold Pepsi, turned off the living room lights and headed for her office. She sat down in her chair and took a long drink. She checked the two routers and Phil Abrahamson’s email, but nothing was going on. She now knew what Triangle Diagnostics was making and who it will eventually go to. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but there was no question she would stop that formula from leaving the country. Right now, it is a waiting game to see when this was going to happen and how she can stop it.

  What she really needed to do now is to find proof who is behind this. She remembered the email address she had seen sent to Abrahamson when they were in California. She found the printout. Then she went to a website where you can find an IP address and put in the email address. Once she found the IP address, she searched for it. All she found is that the email address is in Washington, D.C. area. Nothing more. What she wanted is a name. She wondered if she would ever find out who was behind this.

  Then she remembered she hadn’t read the information on Michael Simms that Mike had sent. She picked up the papers, leaned back in her chair and began reading.

  Michael Simms is forty-five years old. Married Sandra Williams twenty-three years ago and they have three grown children. On son is married and the other two children, a boy and a girl are still in college. Simms was born in Virginia to a lawyer, Jonathan Simms, and Marilyn Tyler Simms. His father died in a car accident when Michael was five years old. Two years later, Marilyn Simms married Steven Rodgers. Three more children came into the family. Steven Rodgers was career military. He was in the Army, reaching his highest rank of Lieutenant General and served in the Pentagon for six years, until he retired five years ago.

  Alex paused a moment as a thought crossed her mind. Steven Rodgers had been a stepfather to Michael Simms for most of Simms’ life. Did Simms know some of the men Steven Rodger’s served with? It seemed logical that he did know a lot of military men and women. She wondered how many people in the military Michael Simms still knew. She shook her head and went back to reading the file.

 

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