CHAPTER 32
Billy answered the ringing phone, yet again. It was Stanley Harper.
"Yes?"
"Sorry to bother you, yet again. There's been a new development Billy."
"What do you have?"
"I just received a call. Cassie Lowry, assistant to Greg Meyers, was found dead in her apartment earlier."
"Cause of death?" Billy asked, even though he was certain that he knew the answer.
"The plague. She's been dead, for several days. I think we might have discovered the initial point of infection."
"How sure are you of that?"
"She was scheduled for vacation all this week. She was in the office on Sunday afternoon, briefly. Greg was there as well. Trying to wrap a few loose ends before she left. You have to admit, it was perfect in theory."
"I don't want theories, I want the people responsible for this and I want them, now!"
"I know you do Billy, I know. I'll be in touch."
With that, the phone line went dead and Billy sat there in silence.
How many more deaths were going to happen until this thing was contained? How many innocent lives were going to be snuffed out for no reason other than a group of Russians who felt like having fun in tormenting them?
It didn't take Billy long to get the answer to the first question.
The ringing phone ensured that.
And with it, came the confirmation of yet another death.
Another life snuffed out by an invisible killer.
The Agency had just become another of the intelligence groups with a death toll.
Austin Smyth had just died.
"Sons of a bitches," Billy cursed, wishing right now that he had names, faces, someone to pin the blame on. But he didn't. He had nothing, no one to blame and nobody to take his anger out on.
He felt helpless and mad and there was little that he could do.
Sometimes, he thought, the big bucks weren't worth the paper they were printed on.