Loving did a double take. “Mike?”
“Yeah. You’re sure Ben isn’t lurking around somewhere?”
“He’s busy with the trial. What are you doing here?”
“Keep your voice down.” Mike glanced up the hill. It was a steep slope they had just rolled down, but there were still men in the driveway waiting for Dr. Sentz to return with the mysterious goods. “We don’t want to tip off those smugglers upstairs.”
“Do you know what’s goin’ on? What they’re doin’?”
“Don’t you?”
“Well…”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m tryin’ to find out who killed Christopher Sentz.”
“I thought that was obvious.”
“Ben doesn’t think so.”
“What else is new? Ben thinks all his clients are pure as driven snow. Even the cop killers.”
“Yeah, but I’m beginnin’ to think he may be right this time. Something weird was goin’ on at that hotel.”
Mike cocked his head slightly. “And you think that has something to do with the smuggling ring?”
“I know Peter Shaw is one of the goons up in that driveway. And he was also at the hotel that day.”
“Then the foxes were guarding the henhouse.” Mike paused a moment. “You know, that would explain a few questions I’ve had.”
“Why are you tracking smugglers, anyway? Isn’t homicide your beat?”
“There was a homicide. A man who died in the most grotesque manner.”
“Some kinda mutilation?”
“Worse. Intense radiation poisoning. What the docs call ARS-acute radiation syndrome. Burns all over the body, even more serious internal damage. Organs baked from the inside out. Immune system shutdown. GI tract disintegrated. Stomach lining aspirated. Stress on the body triggers a cardiac arrest in the most painful-”
“I get the idea.”
“That’s what started my investigation.”
Loving remembered the radiation warnings he had seen on the hospital doors in the oncology wing. “There’s something inside the hospital? Something dangerous?”
“Very dangerous. And valuable. If you’re a terrorist.”
Loving glanced up the side of the hill, making sure they weren’t doing anything to attract the attention of the men waiting for Dr. Sentz to come out with the contraband. “Can you clue me in?”
“Ever heard of cesium?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“It’s one of several radioactive materials used by hospitals today for radiation therapy. That’s one of many purposes. It’s also used in the oil industry to create a more effective drilling fluid. Scientists use it in atomic clocks. Photoelectric cells. But cancer treatment hospitals are the primary users in the United States.”
“For what, chemo?”
“It’s primarily used to treat gynecological cancers.”
Loving thought for a moment. “That was Joslyn Thomas’s specialty.”
“Cervical and uterine cancers?”
Loving nodded.
“Apparently they place the cesium inside a woman’s uterus to irradiate the cancerous growth.” Mike swore under his breath. “That’s the real irony here. The same stuff docs use to cure cancer patients can also be used by murderers and terrorists to make dirty bombs.”
“Dirty bombs? Is that for real? I thought that was a myth. Like Red Mercury.”
“Just because we haven’t seen one explode in the United States doesn’t make it any less real. Dirty bomb is basically a catchphrase for any radiological dispersal device. A weapon that combines conventional explosives with radioactive material.”
“Does that make it more effective?”
“In a way. You can actually kill more people immediately with conventional bombs. The primary purpose of the dirty bomb is to spread radioactive material over a large area. High-intensity exposure to radiation can kill a person in a few hours. If released in a limited and controlled environment, it could make the place uninhabitable for centuries. In any scenario, thousands could be irradiated. Even if it’s not fatal, you know what that means.”
“Panic.”
Mike nodded grimly. “Terror. Which is the primary objective of terrorists.”
“How hard are these bombs to make?”
“Unfortunately, not very. Contact with water is enough to set cesium off. Ice, even. Like all alkali metals, it’s highly reactive.”
Loving’s lips tightened. “Criminy. I thought this case was about vengeance. Not weapons of mass destruction.”
“More like weapons of mass disruption. It’s all about the psychological effect. Which can actually be a great deal more devastating than killing a lot of people in an explosion.”
“You think those guys up there are terrorists?”
“I think they’re supplying materials to terrorists. Through the black market.”
“There’s a black market for this stuff?”
“Big-time. Has been steadily growing since the mid-nineties. The main problem is transportation. This junk can be deadly. You’ve got to have a protective carrier. Most people wear protective clothing, especially if they’re handling it. Even your major-league zealots don’t want to be around it. Who would?” He sighed. “But the black market still seems to flourish. Greed and zealotry can be a lethal combination.”
“In Oklahoma?”
“You might be surprised. It’s everywhere. Haven’t you read about the Chechen bombs? The spy assassinated with radioactive materials in London? Surely you remember that Jose Padilla, the al-Qaeda terrorist, was planning to detonate a dirty bomb in the United States. The first robbery from a radiotherapy clinic occurred in Brazil; the thieves got a capsule filled with cesium-137. It usually takes the form of a powder, or sometimes a piece of silvery metal about the size of a postage stamp. They keep it in stainless-steel tubes, but that doesn’t stop the radiation-only lead can do that. Those Brazilian thieves planned to sell it but got sick before they could. In the meantime, they managed to contaminate two hundred and fifty people and kill five.”
“Geez Louise.”
“Not too long ago there was another robbery on the East Coast. These little creeps made off with twenty-seven tubes. We know the stuff ended up on the black market. The authorities couldn’t stop it, but they shut down the facility. Terrorists started looking elsewhere. That brought them to Oklahoma.”
“When did you find out?”
“When we found the irradiated body in the woods just north of the Arkansas River.”
Loving winced. “Who was it?”
“That’s the thing-we don’t know. The body was too ravaged to be recognizable. Print and DNA checks didn’t produce results. After Dr. Barkley determined that it was radiation poisoning, I started investigating the hot lab at St. Benedict’s-the only source of radioactive materials in town. After talking to the head administrator, we began an inventory and I eventually learned that some of their cesium was missing.”
“How much?”
“A scary amount. Almost twenty tubes.”
Loving whistled.
“The security in there is a lot less than what you might find at a government stockpile or a nuclear power plant. Which is why those jerks upstairs have been able to get away with this.”
“There must be some precautions.”
“Only a few of the docs have access. You need a magnetic key card to get in and you’re supposed to sign out for anything you take. Not hard regulations to get around. Especially if you have an oncology doctor working for you.”
A light went off in Loving’s head. “Joslyn Thomas worked in oncology. Would she have had access to this stuff?”
“Probably.”
“You think she was in on this operation?”
“Either that or she found out about it.” Mike paused. “Maybe her accident wasn’t all that accidental.”
“Why did you come here tonight?”
“My investigation led me to the remaining oncologist, Dr. Gary Sentz.”
“The brother of Christopher Sentz.”
“Another disturbing bit of synchronicity,” Mike murmured. “I found out about his little rendezvous tonight because I, uh, managed to find a way to intercept his text messages.”
Loving grinned. “That was one busy signal tower.”
“What do you mean? You haven’t been doing anything illegal, have you?”
“Perish the thought.” He jabbed Mike in the side and pointed. “Look! Sentz!”
Loving pushed his night goggles back into place and started up the hill, careful to cling as closely to the ground as possible.
Dr. Sentz emerged from the back door. He was wearing some kind of outfit. A big baggy uniform with a helmet.
Loving looked more closely. It was a hazmat suit. Guess he couldn’t blame Sentz for being careful, given what Mike had told him.
“What’s that thing he’s pulling?” Loving whispered. It looked like a lawn fertilizer, but Loving suspected that wasn’t it.
“That’s the pig,” Mike whispered back. “It’s a transport vehicle. Basically a covered bucket on wheels. Made of lead, of course. Hospitals keep them around to transport cesium from one facility to another.”
“Or from a facility to a terrorist.”
“That too.”
They both crept closer. Loving could pick up some of what Sentz was saying.
“… map will get you to the exchange point in the desert. Everything has been arranged. They take charge of the stuff. All you have to do is be there.”
“Why aren’t you coming with us?” Shaw asked.
“Because I’ll be the first suspect when they notice radioactive materials are missing. I have to be inside making sure everyone remembers that I was here all night.”
“Shouldn’t we be wearing one of those suits?”
“Are you planning to open the canister?”
“No chance.”
“Then you’ll be okay. I had to handle it. You don’t.”
“How do I know these guys we take the hot stuff to won’t kill us?”
“You’ve been watching too much 24. They don’t want to kill off their source. Who knows when they might want more? Now stop talking and open the back of the truck.”
Loving steeled himself. If they were going to do something, this was the time.
“What’s the plan?” he asked Mike. “Do we move in or follow the truck?”
“I don’t want to rely on following the truck in the dark.”
“I put a GPS tracker on the back bumper.”
Mike arched an eyebrow. “I can see now why Ben pays you so well.”
“I wish.”
“But I still think it’s too risky. I want to bring these thugs in now. Especially if they have something to do with two murders.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
“Uh-uh. There’s more of them than us. And I think there’s at least one more accomplice somewhere on the premises.”
“Don’t you carry a gun?”
“Yeah, and so do both of those men up in the driveway. I don’t want to start a shootout with radioactive cesium in the crossfire.”
“Good point.”
“I’m going to crawl back to my car and radio for reinforcements.”
“Better hurry.”
“I will. It won’t take long.” He grabbed Loving’s arm. “I know your rep, Loving. Do not go in there on your own. Understand? No matter what. Wait for me.”
“Whatever you say. You’re the professional. I’m just the talented amateur.”
Mike grimaced. “Back before you know it.”
Mike skittered down the hill and into the parking lot. Loving decided to move in for a closer look. He had no intention of doing anything stupid. But the more he saw and heard, the more useful he would be later when they were trying to drag out a confession. Or to extract information about the murders.
Lying flat on the ground, he crept forward, pulling himself along by his elbows. In less than a minute, he had made it back to the retaining wall. He was barely fifteen feet away from them.
Shaw and his accomplices finished loading the pig into the back of the truck. Loving saw now why only a small but secure truck was required. Their cargo didn’t occupy that much space. But it was far more valuable than most cargo that did.
“Careful going over any bumps,” Sentz said.
Shaw gave him a harsh look.
“That was a joke.”
Shaw wasn’t laughing. “This stuff is secure, right? No chance it’s gonna go off and blow us sky-high?”
“Of course not.” He smiled. “It wouldn’t blow you anywhere. It would burn you up from the inside out.”
“Like what happened to Parsons?”
“I had nothing to do with that. That was my boss. But still… I wouldn’t take any sharp turns.”
“You want to drive this rig yourself, jerkface?”
“No, I do not. Safe journey, gentlemen. Text me when you’ve achieved you goal. We’ll meet later to distribute the proceeds.”
Sentz started back inside the hospital.
Where was Mike? Loving turned around-
The fist careened out of the darkness and knocked him in the face so hard his head slammed back against the retaining wall. He barely had a chance to react before the second blow came, even harder than the first. A thunderous hammering sound split his skull even more than the blows.
He spread his wobbling arms, trying to push himself to his feet. A well-placed kick to the pit of his stomach stopped that short. He fell back onto the ground with a painful thud.
“Hey, Shaw!” an unfamiliar voice cried. “Look what I found!”
Loving heard footsteps running toward him. He tried to get his bearings, but the pain and the darkness made it impossible.
Someone grabbed him by the hair and jerked him upward. “Know this guy?”
Even though his vision was blurred, Loving could make out Shaw’s ugly mug right in front of his face. “I sure do.”
“He made us. You know what we have to do with him.”
Shaw took a deep breath. “We can’t do it here.”
“We can’t be late, either,” the accomplice said.
Shaw slammed the flat of his hand against Loving’s face, hard. “We didn’t need this complication, Loving.”
Several replies came to Loving’s mind, but he knew none of them would help his situation.
“We’ll take care of him somewhere else, after we drop off the goods.”
“That’ll be days.”
“You in a hurry?”
“No, but-it seems kind of dangerous. He could get loose or something.”
Shaw shook his head. “Give him some of that stuff. You know. Like you gave Thomas at the hotel.”
Loving’s ears pricked up. Did he hear that right? It was hard to hear anything over the ringing in his head.
Loving heard something liquid pouring from a bottle, followed by a strong acrid scent permeating the night air. He didn’t like this at all.
Shaw was back in his face. “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you, Loving? Had to butt into stuff that didn’t concern you. Turn against the cops and cuddle up to the cop killer.”
Loving knew any explanation would be futile. What he needed to do was make a break for it before it was too late. If he could just get free, he could run fast, all the way down the hill. Sure, they had guns, but it was dark. There was a chance he might make it. Better than his chances if he didn’t.
Before he could try anything, someone pressed a cloth over Loving’s nose and mouth. He knew he would soon be unconscious.
“Now put him in the back of the truck,” Shaw growled.
“You mean with the-the-”
“Yeah. What does it matter?” Even as consciousness faded, Loving felt himself being dragged over the pavement. “He’s gonna die anyway.”