There had already been hearings that produced studies that later went nowhere. A legislative bill passed the House in 2008, only to die in the Senate. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t bothered to read beyond those facts. She already knew this hearing would most likely be only for show, too. And that’s why she had signed up. Why she had fought to be included. She needed to look like she was fighting for veteran voters without really engaging in any controversy that could alienate her from the powers that be within Congress. It was a safe political bet for an embattled incumbent who needed to look like she was working hard for her constituents.
“These tests that a handful of veterans are complaining about nearly forty to fifty years later were not conducted with the intention of hurting them. These tests were to determine the vulnerability of U.S. warships to attacks with chemical and biological agents that we understood could wipe out more than just our troops if used by a willing enemy. These weapons could wipe out entire cities. So excuse me, Senator Quincy, if I insist that knowing a bit about history is important in this matter.”
Without raising his voice Hess had managed to deliver a scolding that silenced the room. Except for the clicks of the cameras. Hess milked it, waiting patiently with a stone-cold stare that made Quincy squirm and shift in his chair. Ellie watched him give a slight tug on his collar, as if it were choking him to release the four words he finally said: “By all means, continue.”
26.
Haywood County, North Carolina
Daniel Tate had discovered an entire tunnel system. Fractured walls and splintered furniture made it a challenge, as did the many cables and electrical wires tangled in clumps or strung from one side to another. Ceiling tiles dangled, and in some spots he could see all the way up to the clouds. He climbed over burst pipes that spewed disgusting sewer mixtures.
This was nothing.
He’d been through much worse—a bombed village outside of Baghdad. He remembered the soles of his boots melting from walking on the charred remains. As long as he lived he’d never forget the smell of burnt flesh.
Earlier, searching through a caved-in storage room, Tate had hit the jackpot. He found night vision goggles, something that looked like a Kevlar vest but was lighter, and a helmet with two different lighting options. With a flick of a switch he could change from LED to infrared. The helmet and the goggles allowed him to see whatever he wanted without filling his hands with a flashlight. And he needed his hands to pull and shove and push as he made his way through the tunnel system.
Despite all the gadgets, he had yet to find a pair of shoes. He had found bottles of alcohol and cleaned his bruised and bloodied feet by pouring stinging amounts of the liquid over them. Then he carefully wrapped them with ACE bandages. If he couldn’t walk—and if necessary, run—it wouldn’t matter what weapons he had.
Now if only he could shut down the prickly feeling that stabbed at his skin like a thousand tiny needles. His nose kept bleeding even after he had stuffed wads of tissue up his nostrils. And his heart raced in his chest so fast and so hard it felt as if it would crack his ribs open at any moment.
Enough time had gone by that Tate suspected these things were probably side effects of the drug that Dr. Shaw had given him. He tried to tell himself that they would wear off.
He heard a noise and stood stock-still. Cocked his head and listened to see if he could identify it. By now he knew the sound of pipes belching or walls cracking. There was something different about this sound. He didn’t have to wait long. He heard it again.
It came from somewhere in the tunnel ahead of him. A rhythmic clack-clack, then the crunch of glass.
Footsteps!
27.
They stopped after they pulled out the first body and realized it could be a crime scene because of the gunshot wound,” the National Guardsman explained. He looked back over his shoulder as he led O’Dell and the medical examiner through the mud. “We’ve had someone securing the area since last night. The only problem is that some of it’s underwater now.”
His long legs made it an effort for him to slow his pace to keep close to theirs. He maneuvered around the debris sticking out of the ground. The slight incline didn’t seem to affect him. O’Dell, however, found herself slipping just when she thought she had her balance. And still, she put out her arm to help the older woman beside her.
She guessed that the woman’s slight limp made her look frailer than she actually was. She swatted away at O’Dell’s offer and continued marching in big rubber boots that swallowed her feet all the way up to her knees.
When O’Dell first met Dr. Gunther she found herself thinking they had reached the bottom of their barrel—so to speak—and that all the more capable law enforcement officials must already have been overwhelmed in rescue efforts. The dead—or at least the dead not associated with the landslide—would have to settle for whoever was left.