The Chemist

“Very smooth.”

“I told you it was nothing. I’ll see you soon.”

“Drive safe. I love you.”

Kevin shouted something in the background, and there was another thud close beside the phone.

“Are you kidding?” Daniel shouted back. “A knife?”

Alex ended the call and picked up the pace a little. She couldn’t leave them alone for twenty minutes.

Things had returned to normal – or her new version of it – by the time she got back to the apartment. Daniel was still studiously watching the news. Val had just brought Einstein back from a walk and was filling the lovely crystal bowl with water for him. Kevin was watching the feed from his cameras and sharpening a machete. Home sweet home.

“Anything?” she asked Daniel.

“Nothing about me. Apparently the vice president is bowing out before the election after all. I guess those recent scandal rumors aren’t entirely unfounded. So of course, everyone is speculating about who President Howland will select for his running mate.”

“Fascinating,” Alex murmured in a tone that implied the opposite. She dumped her bag onto one of the white bar stools, sat on the next one over, and opened her computer. All seemed quiet at Casa Carston, so she started scrubbing backward to see if she’d missed anything while she was out. So far she hadn’t discovered any regular visitors besides the housekeeper and the security service that drove by once daily in the afternoon.

Daniel flipped to a different news network, where another version of the same story was running. “You don’t care who the president runs with?” he asked. “Howland’s pretty popular. Whoever he chooses will probably be the vice president, and possibly the president four years from now.”

“Ventriloquist dummies,” Kevin grumbled, setting down the machete and starting to work on a long boning knife.

Alex nodded in agreement as she slowed the feed to watch two teenagers amble past Carston’s house and up the block.

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked.

“I don’t worry about the puppet,” Kevin said. “I worry about the guy pulling the strings.”

“That’s a pretty cynical attitude about the democratic nation you used to work for.”

Kevin shrugged. “Yup.”

“Alex, Republican or Democrat?” Daniel asked.

“Pessimist.”

She reached for the other computer, the one with the bugged calls on it, and plugged in her headphones.

“So nobody cares that the front-runner is some ultra-right senator from Washington State who used to work for the Defense Intelligence Agency?”

The first call Alex had missed was from the daughter again – she could tell from Carston’s warm, fatherly voice. She started fast-forwarding.

“Makes sense,” Val was saying, pulling a rubber band out of her hair. She was wearing sweaty workout clothes and looked like she should be on a Maxim cover anyway. “Howland is soft. Get someone with a conservative edge, pull some voters off the fence. Plus, the new guy is one part grandpa, one part silver fox, with a catchy two-syllable name. Howland could do worse.” She shook her golden hair out, and it fell into perfect waves down her back.

“It’s sad, but you’re probably right. Just a beauty pageant.”

“Everything is, honey,” Val told him.

Alex stopped to check the recording, but Carston was still just listening and muttering kindly mm-hmms. She sped it up again.

“I suppose I should get used to it, since I imagine I don’t get to vote anymore.” Daniel frowned. “Vice President Pace. Do you think he was born with that name, or did he alter it to make it voter-friendly? Wade Pace. Is that something you would name a kid?”

“I wouldn’t name a kid anything,” Val said. “Because I would never be dumb enough to bring one home.”

Alex’s fingers reached down automatically to stop the recording.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Just explaining that I’m not the mom type,” Val said.

“No, Daniel, what was that name?”

“Senator Pace? Wade Pace?”

“That name… it sounds familiar.”

“I think everyone knows his name,” Daniel said. “He’s been positioning himself for this kind of promotion, not exactly low profile.”

“I don’t follow politics,” Alex said. She stared at the TV now, but it just showed some news anchor. “How much do you know about this guy?”

“Just the stuff they’re running on the news,” Daniel answered. “Sterling service record, all the normal clichés.”

“He was military?”

“Yes, some kind of general, I think.”

“A lieutenant general?”

“Maybe.”

Kevin was paying attention now. “Wade Pace. Pace with a P. That our guy?”

Alex stared into space, unconsciously rocking slightly back and forth on her stool. “He’s from Washington State… he worked defense intelligence…” She looked up at Kevin. “Let’s say the DIA is theoretically exploring some biological-weapons options. This guy’s already got some political aspirations, so of course he makes sure the money gets spent in his hometown. They would have had plenty of innocuous goals on the surface – all the outsiders would see was the economic boost. Probably helped get him his seat in the Senate. Great. But then, years later, the fabricated virus is stolen. Obviously, no one can know that he ever had a hand in its creation. No one can know it exists. We track down the bad guys, and they give up too much information. Wade Pace has big dreams. Anyone who heard his name in connection with this virus —”