Dead Love - By Wells, Linda Page 0,16
route by chopper to the FBI Laboratory Services in Quantico, Virginia. The FBI lab had a quick response team that specialized in forensic science, including chemical, biological, explosive, and various hazardous materials. The FBI investigating team was gathering samples from t he subway platform, placing them in sealed bags, to ascertain whether any weapons grade agent contamination was present.
Marty, Joey, and the other subway workers who were on duty at the time of discovery were instructed to remain in the station office and wait until further notice. The few passengers who had been waiting on the platform were mingling, talking in low tones to each other or on cell phones, calling their workplace, office, or family and friends, alarmed and scared, seeing these masked figures swabbing the area and doing whatever they were doing. It looked like a scene out of a bad science fiction movie.
Joey was feeling so frightened, somewhat queasy, and nervous about what was happening. He called Donna, knowing that she probably had been watching the news, and explained that it was just an “unknown spray can or something,” and that it was a precautionary shutdown.
He admitted that he was a little upset, and she said, “It is probably nothing, Joey,” but she didn’t want him to worry or know how concerned she was.
“Kiss Rosa for me,” he asked.
Donna said, “I will. I love you, Joey.”
“You too, sweetheart.”
After the call, Joey walked over to Marty, who was getting some coffee, and said, “Hey, Marty, what do you think is going on?”
Marty held the warm cup in his hands and said, “Dunno, Joey, but I don’t like it.”
Joey said, “Me either, and honestly, I’m not feeling so good.”
“What do you mean?” Marty looked Joey square in the face and saw that he was pale and sweating a lot.
“I am sick at my stomach and feel crummy. Maybe it is my nerves.”
Marty said, “Look, have a cup of tea. That settles my stomach. Just go relax on the couch. All this craziness makes me edgy, too. Plus, I gotta report on all this shit. Just take it easy. We are all feeling the pressure.”
Joey said, “Sure, Marty.” He didn’t think the tea would help, but he would give it a shot.
Joey saw the box of teabags, grabbed one, and filled a mug with hot water from the industrial sized urn. He dropped the teabag in the cup, grabbed a packet of soda crackers, and headed to the couch. He was glad to get off his feet. One of the other workers was there, waiting like the rest of them.
“Hey, Eddie, how are you feeling?” asked Joey.
Eddie was impatient and said, “I am sick of waiting and not knowing what is going on.”
His eyes were glued to the small TV, sitting on an old card table against the wall across from them. Other guys were watching too, sitting in chairs, scattered around the crowded, stuffy office. Occasionally there would be a news bulletin about the subway shutdown, and there was a steady crawl of information going across the bottom of the screen, with the announcement of Breaking News highlighted in yellow.
Eddie heard the cup hit the floor, shatter, and hot tea splattered on his feet.
“Shit, man, look what you did, asshole.” Then he saw Joey tumble sideways, falling off the couch, hitting his head on the worn brown carpet, landing on the broken cup, his vomit mixing with the wet tea stain.
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Ft. Detrick, in Maryland, code name, Area A, conducts biomedical research and is home to the Bio-Defense Agency, the US Army Medical Research and Material Command, and the US Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases. Most Americans don’t know of its purpose or even its existence.
All biological weaponry is initially evaluated at Ft. Detrick and is then transported to the Aberdeen Proving Ground for testing and development of “Collective Protection Systems.” The deadly samples are safely stored in a special “security access only” containment lab, located at the Edgewood Laboratory facility at the APG. The Edgewood lab, the Edgewood Chemical and Biological Center, is run by the military, and security is stringent, especially since 9/11. The deliveries of weapon grade agents normally occur at one a.m. when the building is empty except for skeleton staff members and military police. These items are received by assigned chemists, expert in the handling and storage of these lethal toxins and bio-agents.
The deadly agents are obtained from various places, often from combat zones or other sources, such as foreign terrorist cells. Numerous