Chapter 4: Bearding the Lion

"Dillingham residence."

"Porter, it's Elizabeth. I need to speak with Grandfather."

"I'm sorry, Miss Dillingham, but he's on his way to the lab. He's just leaving."

"Then go get him now, before he gets in the car. It's that important."

"Yes, Miss. One moment." The phone was set down, and she heard the secretary call to her grandfather. After a minute or so, David Dillingham's voice came on the line.

"Elizabeth? What's so important you couldn't call me at the lab in fifteen minutes?"

Elizabeth's voice tensed. "How about that package of yours—is that important enough?"

There was a pause. "What about it?"

She sounded like she was fighting to keep her emotions under control. "I can't talk about it over the phone. Can I meet you at the lab? Myles will be with me."

"Myles? What's wrong, Elizabeth? Why is the FBI involved?"

"Can I just meet you at the lab?"

"Of course. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. I'll wait for you at the front desk."

"Good. We'll be there." She hung up and turned. Jack, Myles and Bobby were all staring at her. "What?"

Bobby shook his head, smiling. "I want you with me the next time I'm undercover. You're good."

Her smile was slight, and didn't reach her eyes. "After all I've heard in the last two hours, not much of that was acting, believe me. Well, we've got his attention – the ball's in your court now. He has a private lab at George Washington University."

Jack headed for the door. "Let's go."

s

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David Dillingham's eyes grew cold. "You said Myles was coming with you, Elizabeth—not half the Bureau."

"So I did," Elizabeth said quietly, meeting his glare evenly. "I suggest we talk someplace privately, Grandfather."

"Agreed. This way." He led them to the elevator. After descending three floors, they passed through several hermetically-sealed doorways, past a sign that said "Microbiology/Virology – Infectious Diseases," and into what was obviously his private lab. He motioned them all to lab stools, set down his briefcase and turned to face them. "Now, what's this all about?"

Jack Hudson took the lead. "Dr. Dillingham, we have reason to believe that there is an assassination attempt on your life being planned for sometime in the next few days. There's very little specific information at this point—"

"Which you wouldn't share even if there were," came the cold reply.

Jack ignored it. "—but there is enough, shall we say, subliminal, information that we'd like to keep an eye on you until and during the WHO conference this Friday."

"This isn't only for your safety, Doctor," Bobby added. "It's also for the safety of the others who will be attending the conference."

"I see." The tone of his voice indicated anything but. "Well, gentlemen, you do what you feel you have to, but I suggest you stay out of my way in doing it. I have a great deal of work to get done before the conference."

"Uh, Doctor," Jack replied. "We'll try to do that, but we would like to keep at least one agent with you at all times. I realize you have work to do, so I'm not suggesting a safe house, but—"

Dr. Dillingham cut him off again with a wave of his hand. "I don't need a babysitter, Agent Hudson," he said dismissively. "I've been taking care of myself for longer than you've been alive. Do what you have to do to protect the conference, and I'll do the rest."

Elizabeth started to say something, her face betraying her anger, but a gentle hand on her arm stopped her. Myles had remained quiet this whole time, but now he stood. Time to make another impression, he thought. He's not taking us seriously—yet. He stepped up until he was only about a foot away from David Dillingham's glare.

"Including endangering your granddaughter?" His voice was even, but his eyes were like ice. "You gave her a copy of your research and a sample of your serum—a possible treatment to one of the world's deadliest viruses and a potential bio-terror weapon. Obviously, you were concerned about exactly what we're talking about, and were aware of the possible danger. But why drag Elizabeth into it? You could have just as easily sent or brought it to me at the Bureau."

Blue eyes narrowed. "I don't think I appreciate your tone, Agent Leland."

Myles didn't even blink. "I know I don't appreciate your disregard for the lives of the people around you, Dr. Dillingham. So, like it or not, you will have someone with you until the conference—and that someone will be me."

"Just because you're dating my granddaughter, Agent Leland, doesn't give you—"

Elizabeth was on her feet now as well. "Grandfather!"

Myles held his hand up to her, his eyes never wavering from the virologist's. "Doesn't give me what, Dr. Dillingham? The responsibility to protect innocent people from terrorists who'd like nothing better than to put a bullet in your heart or rain Ricin or who knows what on that whole conference, just because you can't handle the fact that, in this case, you're out of your element? This is what the FBI is doing to protect the conference — protecting you just happens to be part of that."

He took a half-step closer, his voice lowering to a near-whisper. "And let me tell you something else — I do care a great deal for Elizabeth, which gives me the right to protect her from your stubbornness as well as everybody else. You think about that for a minute — I know she's planning to attend your conference on Friday. Do you want her to be in the crossfire of God only knows what?"

They stared at each other for another long minute; then David Dillingham shook his head. "No, Myles, I don't. You've made your point." Myles nodded once and backed off. Dr. Dillingham turned to Jack. "Agent Hudson, what exactly do you have in mind?"

s

s

While Jack and Bobby spoke further with her grandfather, Elizabeth watched Myles quietly, not sure what to say to him. There was a lot she'd say later, when he wasn't "on duty," but right now…

"You okay?" he asked very softly.

She nodded. "Mm-hmm. How about you?"

He let his breath out in a laugh. "I'm fine. Don't know if I'm still on your grandfather's good side, though."

Elizabeth smiled. "If anything, you just moved up on it, I'd say. It pretty much takes nerves of steel to go head-to-head with him like you just did. Nice job."

"Thanks," he replied with a grin. Then he grew serious again. "Jack wasn't getting through to him — I see what you mean about him tuning out what he considers irrelevant. I just figured it was time to make it relevant. And, regardless of what he may show, you are immensely relevant to him." He didn't say it, but she read it in his eyes: And to me, too.

"Well, it worked," she said, touching his hand briefly. "You're in…now you just have to put up with him."

He didn't smile, and his gaze dropped. His voice held a trace of pleading. "But you don't. Elizabeth, I know you're involved in this now anyway, but I want…I need you to keep your distance from him until Friday. The team can probably use your help in other ways." He looked up at her. "Please. I —"

She nodded. "Myles, I understand. You don't need a distraction. And at the conference – I'd like to help, but I promise I'll try not to be in your sight line. You'll have enough to worry about."

"Thank you." He looked over to where the discussion appeared to be heating up slightly. "What now?"

"…nonsense, I can use another research assistant right now, and —"

"Did you hear anything that Myles just said?" Bobby was asking incredulously.

David Dillingham stood his ground. "—and it will do her a world of good to learn what she can actually do with that degree."

Elizabeth groaned. "I know what this is about. My turn." She stood and walked over to her grandfather. "Absolutely not."

He looked down at her. "What?"

She met his gaze firmly. "You know what. This little ploy of yours to put me in the middle of this because you think I'll decide to do something besides private counseling. You are impossible, Grandfather. But it's not going to work, even if the FBI thought it was a good idea, which they obviously don't. I am not qualified in any way, shape, or form to work with the stuff you're talking about, and I damn well won't distract Myles from his job."

"Elizabeth!" The older man gasped. Even mild cursing was considered beneath the Dillingham dignity.

She didn't flinch. "Good. I got your attention. It's about time. I will see you at the conference on Friday, Grandfather. Not before. Now, I suggest you shut up and let these men do their jobs. Gentlemen," she added, turning to face the agents, "if you don't mind, I'll wait for you up at the front desk." She grabbed her coat and walked out.