late."
"Sounds about right," Jon said in revulsion. He turned his back on Haldane to face Peter and Randi. "We've got to---"
"Jon!" The cry was so loud and appalled that everyone whirled to its source. All but forgotten in the horror of the revelation, Marty had continued working the keyboard and peering at the screen. "They never stopped. Oh, no, no, no. They've not only put the virus in the antibiotics every year since, they're still doing it! It says here a shipment of contaminated medicine will go out today at the same time as the first antiviral serum shipment!"
A thunderous silence filled the room. They looked at one anotherJon, Randi, Marty, Peter, and Mercer Haldane---as if they had not heard correctly. Could not have.
Jon's voice was stunned. "He's creating a pandemic that will go on and on."
Randi added, "And make a nuclear bomb seem like a child's toy."
Peter's pale blue eyes pierced the lab. He gripped his injured arm as if the pain had suddenly increased. "Then we must mess up the arsehole's plans."
"We'd better hurry." Marty was still reading from the computer screen. "Blanchard will have a little over two billion dollars in payments wired electronically from many countries as well as America the instant the first shipment leaves the plant." He swiveled around. His eyes snapped with outrage. "And your Victor Tremont appears to have recently opened a bank account in the Bahamas. Probably in case of an unexpected emergency, wouldn't you think?"
"So if we don't stop him today," Randi said, "another shipment of the virus goes out, and Tremont probably flies the coop with a billion dollars or so."
"But how?" Mercer Haldane groaned, seeing any chance for redemption in the pages of history vanishing. "Victor gets the medal, and the shipment goes out in an hour! And the president will be at Blanchard with the secret service and FBI and every policeman the state and village can spare."
Jon nodded. "The president!" A plan was forming in his mind. "That's how we stop Tremont. We show the president what he's done."
"If we can get to him," Randi said.
"With the proof on paper," Peter added.
"And someone whom he'll believe," Jon finished. "Not a discredited scientist like me, AWOL from the army and wanted for questioning."
"Or a CIA agent who's probably been branded as rogue by now, too," Randi agreed glumly.
Marty, who was still printing out the records of the Hades Project, said over his shoulder, "May I suggest Mr. Mercer Haldane, former chairman of Blanchard Pharmaceuticals, who, at least on paper, appears to be one of the heinous conspirators?"
Everyone stared at the white-haired executive. He nodded enthusiastically, seeing a chance to reclaim his self-respect. "Yes. I like that. I want to tell the president everything." Then his eagerness faded. "But Victor would never let me get close."
"I'm not sure anyone could personally reach the president today," Randi agreed.
Jon pursed his lips, thinking. "Which leaves us back where we started. But we've got to stop Tremont some damn way."
"And very soon," Peter warned. "That bloody al-Hassan and his troops could show up here any second. Then where are we?"
"Who else will be at the ceremony?" Randi wondered. "The surgeon general? Secretary of state? The president's chief of staff?"
"They'll be just as well guarded," Smith knew. "Besides, Tremont's people will see to it we don't get close. Tremont's security uses violence as their tool of choice. In some ways, they're a worse obstacle than the secret service."
Randi ruminated, "I wish some of those foreign leaders were going to be there in person. We might have a chance to---"
"Wait." Jon suddenly had another idea. He sat on the stool next to Marty. "Mart, can you break into a closed-circuit TV transmission?"
"Sure. Once I broke into a CNN transmission." He laughed, remembering the prank. "Of course, that was only a local cable station, and I was in another studio in the building. I don't know about a national cable company. What's the company? What are the computer codes? Of course, I'd need a TV camera here, too."
Mercer Haldane suggested, "There's a local studio in Long Lake village."
"They'll be routing the feed through there," Randi objected. "There'll be technicians everywhere."
"We'll go in shooting if we have to. Could you tap into the cable from there, Mart?"
"I think so."
"Okay, that's what we'll do."
Peter was doubtful. "The whole village is going to be crawling with police tripping on each other's shoes."
Movement at the perimeter of the room drew their attention. The older male technician who had