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49.
"Child," Louise said when she had recovered her aplomb. "Get out of that car and wipe all your fingerprints off."
"Oh yeah," Linsey said as she climbed out. "I get it. Nobody needs to know how this thing got here."
"I'd speculate the owner of that SUV drove the plane here."
"Right," Linsey said while wiping the steering wheel and shift knob with an oily rag from under the seat. "Ernie Walesky, one of the Lima Voyager crew members who has been missing."
Jack screeched down the ramp in his car and pulled up alongside. "You made it." He radiated respect and amazement.
"Get in," Louise told Linsey and pointed into Jack's car. "That's how you got here, got that? You came with Jack."
Linsey shrugged. "You want to take it from here?"
"I sure do. See the cars in here?"
Linsey saw a handful of car rear ends and rear windows.
"That's going to be a pissed off group of people when they find out this has become a HazMat Zone. Go on, get out of here, you two. Good job, Linsey."
"She gets the job done," Jack said in a faint, amazed voice. He looked at his wife with some fear. "Are you okay?"
"You mean, are we done doing insane things for now?"
"Next time, warn me and I'll stay out of the way."
As they drove out of the garage, she leaned back, squirming happily, and said: "You wanted to tag along, Jack. I have a feeling it's going to get far more interesting yet."
"Let's go home and catch some sleep," Jack suggested. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow." He amended: "Today." Groaning, he looked at the dash clock. It was five a.m.
* * * *
At noon, when Linsey drove in to work, still tired, the scene on lower Broadway was not surprising. A city block was sealed off. Traffic police were rerouting traffic with temporary barricades. Blocky red Fire Department vehicles stood out among marked and unmarked vehicles from various agencies. Rather than fight it, Linsey drove up to Park Boulevard a mile away, parked her car, and took a red MTA trolley down C Street to the Transfer Station near the Santa Fe Depot. The trolley crawled slowly down the congested street—all of downtown was impacted. Nice job, Linsey, she told herself and almost grinned.
What was most surprising was the occasional two or three foot button mushroom growing out of dusty soil in spots where only grass managed to eke out a living.
Linsey found Louise standing outside the building along with about 1,000 other persons. "Good morning," Louise said drily. "Good timing. We're just about to get permission to go back inside. The parking garage is totally off limits and will be for days." Louise leaned close and whispered in Linsey's ear: "I'll keep your little secret for you so you won't have to pay for the rental cars, for the night shift people from the computer networking firm, whose cars are stuck in there."
"You should be glad you have your evidence," Linsey whispered back.
"I am, don't get me wrong." Slowly the crowd began to surge toward the newly opened glass portals into the main lobby. "Nolan has already confirmed that the cloud seeding mechanism on this plane, especially the nozzles, contains oodles and oodles of that same fungus that killed Hugh Milton. It's a smoking gun." She was silent while they rode up in a crowded elevator. When they entered the task force's offices, she flicked on lights and Linsey started up the coffee pot. Louise continued: "We found out that Congressman Metrick ordered the mission aborted yesterday, and it wasn't hard to find out through my own contacts that he's in Lee Collwood's pocket. Collwood's family, and Anaconda Chemicals, has been adding rocket fuel to Metrick's reelection campaigns for 20 years through the usual third party conduits. Don't forget, Linsey, this task force is joined at the hip to a bipartisan House committee designed to oversee Homeland Security. I can pick up the phone and call my boss in Washington D.C., or call any one of the Representatives on the committee. There is already a procedural inquiry in to Metrick's involvement, since he's not on the committee and sidestepped all the proper protocols in freezing our police action. That's a serious matter, even though he couched in a lawsuit."
"What did Nolan find, if anything, about the Yellow Yuck?"
They sat down at a small round table in the cafeteria with their coffees. Louise said: "He's more convinced than ever the yellow fungus was sprayed as an accelerator to make all the mushroom species in the area grow huge at a fantastic pace."
"Lots of these huge mushrooms around town," Linsey said.
Louise agreed. "People are starting to get used to it. Funny how humanity is. Can't stand each other, but will take for granted that a morel the size of their kid is standing next to them at the bus stop. What's your plan for the day?"
Linsey stirred her coffee thoughtfully. "I'm switching back from mushrooms to people."
Louise winked. "You've got the mushroom side covered, child. Anaconda can't recover their plane, though they've got 20 lawyers on it from here to LA and Phoenix. I've asked my friends in Congress to override Metrick's cheap little lawsuit and get the Anaconda plant at Volcan locked down so we can send investigators in pronto."
"Keep me posted on that, will you? Jack and I would like to go in and have a look as soon as possible." Linsey's phone warbled and she answered. "Yes?"
"Linsey, " said a muffled voice.
"Yes? Who is this?"
"Cleve."
"You sound like you couldn't get your shirt over your head this morning. Are you stuck?"
"I need to see you."
"Sure. Where are you?"
"Lima Voyager."
"I'll come right over."
"Come alone."
"Cleve, are you sure you are okay?"
"Come now."
The line went dead. Linsey frowned. Louise had left the room. Linsey left a voicemail for Jack, in case he wanted to tag along: "Honey, it's me. Lin. Cleve called. He wants me to meet him. Call me, okay? Love you." She stuck her head in Louise's office, but her boss was away—possibly in the can, but Linsey didn't want to keep Cleve waiting.
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