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The Y-Files

Case File #1Y4 - 1077: Sweet & Sour

Part III

Feb. 3, 2000

From: Elisheva

To: SamanthaJ3

By the time I inserted my key into the door of my motel room, it was 3:30 a.m. I was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Usually, I don't mind the paperwork that goes along with the job, but tonight it was like wearing an anvil around my neck and running the obstacle course back at the Academy.

I closed and locked the door behind me and threw my keys, cell phone, and gun onto the bed. As I walked across the room, I peeled off layer after layer of clothing, leaving a trail behind me. 'Too tired' I told the anal voice in my head before it even had a chance to complain about the mess I was making.

I climbed into the steaming shower and stood there as long as my weary legs would bear my weight. Finally feeling I could stand no longer, I heaved each foot up and over the side of the tub, grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around my body.

Pulling back the covers and falling into the bed, my body thanked me for the moment of exquisite pleasure. I threw the covers over myself, turned off the lamp and shut my eyes. The sandman was a very welcomed guest.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

*Later that morning, 7:30 a.m.*

The knocking at the door woke me from a very deep sleep where I was enjoying a very nice dream...something about Sk...never mind!

"Elisheva," knock, knock, knock, "Elisheva are you awake?"

It was Samantha giving me a personal wake up call. 'Thank goodness' I thought. I had forgotten to set the alarm. I climbed out of bed, and realizing that I had lost my towel during the night, grabbed my trench coat and slipped it on.

Wiping my nappy bed hair out of my face and praying my morning breath wasn't too offensive, I hopped over the scattered clothes that littered the floor and unlocked the door.

"'morning Sam." I mumbled, waving her into my room.

As I shut the door, it was met with resistance before I could completely close it. "Damn, what's the matter ..." I exclaimed as I swung the door open again to inspect what the problem was. It was a shoe...a man's shoe, attached to some trousers... a belt... a jacket... a tie...OH SH*T...it was Skinner!

My haphazard appearance must have caught him off guard. "Ummm, I saw Agent Samantha come into your room and thought perhaps you were ready to leave to track down Pro. Markham." If I didn't know THE MAN better, I would have sworn he was stifling a smile as he looked around my room and then at me.

"Yea...ummm...well......." I stammered, totally dumbfounded by my embarrassment.

"Sir, I think Agent Elisheva is trying to tell you that she needs about twenty more minutes and she will be ready to go. She had a late night last night and was just about to jump into the shower when I knocked." Samantha covered for me. Bless her little SAC heart.

"Okay...then...ummm, when you're ready, I'll be waiting across the street," Skinner raising his hand and pointing out the door, "at the little coffee shop just over there."

I pretended to look and promptly agreed with him. Oh PLEASE let this moment end, I silently prayed.

"Okay sir, we'll be there shortly." Samantha seemed to be the only SAC in the room thinking coherently.

I basically closed the door in the man's face, never giving him the chance to say a word in reply.

Samantha burst into laughter and pointed to my trench coat.
"You don't have a stitch of clothing under there, do you?" she blurted out. "What are we going to do with you and Kiwi?"

"Well, as a matter of fact I don't. But give me a break! I wasn't expecting half of the Bureau at my door this morning as my wake up call!" I only half feigned my anger.

I proceeded to the bathroom and turned on the shower again. I returned to the mirror in hopes that I could brush the scum off my teeth before the mirror steamed over. "OH MY GOSH!!!!" I screamed at the reflection in the mirror. I could hear the ringing of Samantha's laughter from the other room. How Skinner had kept from running away screaming was beyond me. 'It was either love or he needs new glasses' my alter ego piped in. 'I did not think that, I did not think that!' was my mantra during my entire shower.....

In 17 minutes and 38 seconds I had become a new woman, a woman who hoped could face A.D. Skinner again with her dignity still intact. Samantha handed me my things and we headed out the door, yet another chuckle escaping her lips.

SAC Elisheva

Feb. 3, 2000

From: SamanthaJ3

To: Elisheva

After a rather quiet beginning at the cafe, during which time I grew to admire AD Skinner's self-control even more than I already appreciated it, I asked him what (if anything) he had learned after we left the warehouse earlier that morning.

"Not much," he admitted as he sipped his coffee. "It will take days to identify and catalogue everything which the local police investigators have found hidden in that building. Agent Elisheva would probably know many of the substances, but they've called in a team from of botanical experts who should be able to assist in that matter."

Wiping his mouth with a napkin, AD Skinner looked out the window towards the sidewalk for a moment. "The fugitive from last night's kidnapping incident is still at large. An APB was issued on him for assaulting a Federal officer in addition to kidnapping the two Nguyen women."

Skinner looked back towards Elisheva and me. "Do you really believe the Nguyen woman was involved in some sort of testing program? Using foods from the restaurant?"

I remembered the girl's warm hug when she had been rescued from the warehouse. I thought deeply about the interviews which Jadzia and I had conducted with Kelly Nguyen. "I can't prove anything," I admitted as I looked down at my half-eaten bagel. "But she just doesn't seem like a -- a criminal."

I was not a breakfast person, but in the field you knew that lunch might not be eaten until after suppertime. So I took another bite and considered my reply.

"If there was biochemical testing going on at Da Chavette, I just have a gut feeling that Kelly Nguyen was not knowingly involved. She was too distraught when we interviewed her, crying over the sudden departure of her fiancé. At one point, I was seriously worried that she might have some sort of a break down, and then she went to prepare tea and cookies for Jadzia and myself."

I looked at Elisheva and AD Skinner. "She seemed to take great comfort from preparing food. When she returned from the kitchen of their tiny house, it was almost as if she were a new woman. Calmer. Almost serene."

"Could that be because she had decided to poison you?" Elisheva asked in turn. "She reached her decision and now was fine?" Elisheva's own composure had been returning throughout our meal, and she finished her juice with a flourish. "Perhaps she was also agitated because you were onto her."

"It's possible," Skinner nodded his head and then looked down at his watch.

"Perhaps," I agreed. "But going grocery shopping with your mother is not the act of a fugitive." This case was still not adding up, but I shrugged. "It's just a hunch. So do we have an appointment with this Markham or are we just showing up?"

"We don't have an appointment," Skinner smiled slightly. "But I have a feeling that Professor Markham will see us.." Rising, he grabbed his coat and went up to the register to pay for the meal.

"You were easy on the expense account today," Elisheva teased as we also grabbed our trench coats and headed for the door.

"I'll make up for it later," I smiled automatically. I still had no idea how any chemicals had been transferred to the restaurant patrons, but perhaps the answers would be forthcoming from our interview.

"Oh, and Agent Samantha," Skinner gave me a stern look in the rear view mirror as we slid into our rental car. "Let's try not to let anyone abduct you while we're doing this interview, alright?"

"Yes, sir," I nodded and raised an eyebrow at Elisheva who had slid into the passenger seat in the front. I pulled out my field notes and silently reread them as we drove towards Professor Markham's office.

SamanthaJ3

Feb. 3, 2000

From: Kiwiphile

To: Samantha

I woke up in my bed with the telephone screeching in my ear. Replacing it on the receiver I looked blearily at the clock. 6:30am. By the time I had showered and called Jadzia to organize a start time, I had remembered the pile of paperwork awaiting me. Today Jadzia and I were to try and find a connection between Christian Phong and Mr. Wang. Since accessing the births and immigration records of China and Vietnam was something akin to getting a day pass to the Pentagon, Jadzia suggested that we try Kelly Nguyens. All paths kept leading us to her door; we may as well move in, I thought.

I munched some toast and sat on the bed trying to fill out the stack of forms in front of me, and was interrupted by the 'phone.

'Hello?'

'SA Kiwiphile? Its SAC Foxphile here, I'm calling from the DC office.' She sounded suspiciously smug, like a cat that had not only got the cream, but had the cow cornered like a rat.

'Yes?'

'Just calling to let you know that SA Willmore will be joining you in Oakland this morning.' There was a pregnant pause which I declined to fill. 'Oh, that is to say, he'll be joining AD Skinner, and SAC's Elisheva and SamanthaJ3. He has a lot of experience on covert groups, and Skinner wanted him on the Markham interview.'

I had to say something, 'OK, couldn't you have left it to the others to tell me?'

At last, she got to the punch-line. 'Well, really I just wanted to let you know that a huge bouquet of red roses was delivered to the office this morning, and since you weren't here, we had to open the card so we could let you know who they were from.'

My heart sank a little, 'Could you maybe fax the card and keep it out of sight until I get back?'

'No need, I gave it to Craig to drop off, and I have the flowers where everyone can see them.' She was really enjoying this, I took the bait one more time.

'Who sent them?' As if I hadn't already guessed.

'A Sergeant Gunson?-', she made a show of not remembering the name, '-S.F.P.D. It read something like 'Red roses for a Red lady, I'd hug you any time', I can't remember properly. Craig has the card in his pocket, he was in my office at the time looking at some of your *case* photos. Nice robe by the way. But you know it was kind of strange, because Craig really crumpled that card up, almost trashed it-'

I hung up. This, I thought, would be a good day to stick to routine enquiries. I found Jadzia in her room, and we headed off to Kelly's place.

************************************************************

Kelly was softly spoken and didn't try to defend Christian any longer. SAC Jadzia handled the interview with aplomb. If Kelly had anything to do with the events at the Da Chevette, she was either a good liar or genuinely unaware of her part in things.
I knew we'd get to the bottom of it eventually.

One thing was certain though, Christian Phong was Mr. Wang’s son. She gave us an address uptown where she thought he might be, and we wasted no time in heading over.

In the car, Jadzia called Skinner to let him know what was up. I sat there gripping the wheel hoping that Willmore wasn't there yet. Nothing was said, but Jadzia did give me a long sideways glance after she hung up.

We found the address and pulled up across the street. I whistled softly as we looked at the house.

'Looks like Christian Phong won some kind of State Lottery, or else the restaurant trade pays better than I thought.'

Jadzia agreed, 'I'll get someone on to checking his finances, this kind of place wouldn't go for less than five million.'

The house was a stunner. Pale plastered sides, it rose out from the hillside and faced the West with floor to ceiling windows.
The front door was enormous, and I was reminded of the feng shui of the door to a household, something about the bigger the door, the more good fortune could come in. Of course, nothing to stop us making sure the flow was reversed.

We started up the long driveway to the gates, and I turned to catch the view as Jadzia buzzed the intercom.

SA Kiwiphile

Feb. 3, 2000

From: SamanthaJ3

To: Kiwiphile

"Okay," I was reading aloud from my notes as we pulled into a parking space at Synthatec. "Professor Dwight Markham, PhD, age 46, holds a doctorate in biochemistry, *another* doctorate in biochemical engineering..." I was skimming to relate the highlights to them. "Half-owner in Synthatec which is a privately held corporation. The other owner is a legal corporation, registered in...the West Indies."

"Figures," Skinner grunted as he glared at the imposing building. "And no, I am not authorizing any trips to Trinidad to do field work."

Elisheva and I grinned at each other momentarily before we all exited the car and headed up the steps to the front entrance. Skinner's phone rang as we were within sight of a gated entrance with two, heavily armed guards waiting inside of it.

"Maybe we should have considered at least calling ahead?" I looked at the weapons and then at the gate. Even with industrial espionage and sabotage, there was a lot of security at this facility.

Skinner's voice raised suddenly in volume. I turned to look towards him even as Elisheva's interest seemed directed towards one of the windows in the building. With a final "Fine," Skinner glared at the phone before replacing it in his coat pocket.

"Everything okay, AD Skinner?" I asked as innocently as possible.

Skinner's jaw worked for a moment before he replied. "Apparently Agent Willmore is on his way west to join us for reasons unknown. Let's get this over with."

We walked to the guards and produced our FBI identification. They informed us that we were not expected, and they weren't sure if Professor Markham was available. We were escorted to a lavishly furnished waiting room, though, where we were told that a Ms. Thompson, director of public affairs for the company would be happy to meet with us.

SamanthaJ3

Feb. 3, 2000

From: Jadzia

To: Kiwiphile

As Agent Kiwiphile checked out the stunning view of the Bay Area, I made a quick visual survey of the house. The Oakland Piedmont area was considered a wealthy area of the East Bay, but this house was posh even by Piedmont standards. It was almost garish. They had even gone so far as to install a gate that was some distance from the house. That wasn't in keeping with the local style . . . unless there was something in that house that the Phongs/Wangs wanted to make sure no one saw.

Agent Kiwiphile buzzed the intercom again, but there was no answer. Hearing a noise, we both paused.

Kiwiphile spoke first, "Did that sound like . . .?"

"Like a car starting?" I finished. Together we took off running down the driveway toward the street. We got to the street just in time to see taillights disappearing down the hillside, and our own car was parked too far away for us to give chase.

"Well someone wasn't happy to see us," I said dryly. "Too bad for Mr. Speed Racer that we've got a warrant to search the premises. Judges are much more willing to sign a warrant when someone's suspected of kidnapping a federal agent".

Kiwiphile grinned at me. "Time for some funky poaching," she said.

"Exactly".

SAC Jadzia

Feb. 3, 2000

From: Kiwiphile

To: Jadzia

The house staff were reluctant to let us in, but SAC Jadzia had a pretty racy line in Federal speak, that resulted in the gates being opened promptly. I drove the car up to the house and met her in the expansive foyer. I agreed with Jadzia’s' comments, this house had started in 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous' and hit every branch of the ugly tree on its way down. Pink marble, gold fittings, a Barbara Cartland nightmare.

We asked if there was an office, and the maid showed us through. This room was even more clichéd than the first few we'd seen. 'Looks like Christian and his friends went to the Mission Impossible look-alike bazaar.' I said, poking at the stainless steel desk.

'Just get on with the search, Agent, we have to turn up something.'

Putting on gloves, we systematically worked our way through the room.

The obvious places were, well obvious. So we found nothing out of the ordinary. We hit pay dirt when I gave up in disgust and leaned on a Chinese dragons head figurine that was hanging on a wall. With a barely audible 'click' a small door opened in the opposite wall.

'Well, well, well', said Jadzia. 'What could we have here?'

Pulling out numerous papers and files, we took note of a large stack of cash. Non-consecutive notes, a pile that looked like at least two or three million dollars.

'Gee, do you think someone forgot their laundry?'. What was wrong with me, I thought, was I going to wisecrack my way through the day like a cheap forties detective?

Jadzia didn't seem to mind, she waved me over to the desk. 'Look at these', she was indicating a series of maps laid out in front of her.

I studied them, they looked familiar...'These look like-'

'Subway maps.' Jadzia finished. 'Plus a map of all the city buildings, including wiring and engineering specs, and maps of the air-con systems for the whole shebang.'

We looked at each other. 'Do you think they had plans to poison people somehow?'

Jadzia shook her head, 'This case is driving me crazy, and whatever’s going on-'

I cut her off, picking up a file from near the bottom. 'This is dated for today, look, there’s a time code and a date. 21:00 hours tonight, I think that whatever they're planning, it’s happening sooner than we'd like.'

Jadzia sprang into action, calling the local PD to organize a lock-down on the house, she barked an order at me. 'Kiwi, get on the 'phone and inform AD Skinner and the rest of the team that we need to meet ASAP. Well, what are you waiting for?'

'My phone, its still at that warehouse from yesterday...' I shut my mouth, turning to the house 'phone, I used it to make the call.

That was when I noticed the small red light blinking at the back of the cup-board we'd discovered. My eyes lingered on it, a small red light, and next to it was a digital clock that looked to be counting down....

'Bugger.' I said just as AD Skinner picked up his 'phone.

'I beg your pardon?'

'Sorry, not you sir, oh S**T!' The counter read one minute forty seconds.

'Agent Kiwiphile, can you please get to the point-'

I cut him off, 'Jadzia, we have to get out, NOW! Sorry sir, I'll call back. BOMB!' I screamed, throwing the 'phone down and scooping up what I could, I followed Jadzia out through the doors. We both screamed for the house staff to evacuate, hoping they could hear us.

Running pell-mell down the driveway, we were thrown into the air by the blast. It was fairly contained, obviously localized to the office, but the rest of the house would be alight in seconds. Jadzia was on the 'phone to emergency services, while I tried to pick up the papers that lined the driveway. My ears were ringing, and I had an uncomfortable feeling in my chest.

We had nearly everything, even some of the money. I was pleased that for once all the evidence hadn't gone up in smoke. Then I heard Jadzia’s low chuckle.

'What is it?' I asked, I was concerned that she may have lost it a little.

'Look', she pointed to the main door of the house. There, alarm blaring, was the car I had carefully parked close to the entrance. The windows were shattered, and as I groaned, with a small *whomph*, it burst into flames.

Jadzia was laughing uncontrollably, 'You...you..you are so not going to get car insurance now!'

I put my head in my hands. 'Oh crap,' I said, 'I'm toast.'

SA Kiwiphile

Feb. 4, 2000

From: SamanthaJ3

To: ALL

"Ms. Thompson," AD Skinner was standing behind the stylishly dressed PR director for Synthatec. "I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. It's a yes or no question. Is Professor Markham here?"

"No, Professor Markham is not on the premises."

I rolled my eyes but remained quiet. At least we were finally getting somewhere. After a long and boring tour which showed us nothing which we weren't meant to see in the first place, we had returned to the original ornate waiting room where we had first met the Director of Public Affairs for Synthatec.

"Do you know where Professor Markham is at the present moment?" AD Skinner was just short of growling at the woman.

"I do not know. He has not been into the office for three days. His housekeeper might be able to help you locate him."

"His housekeeper doesn't appear to exist," AD Skinner informed her. "The Oakland police informed me that the rather expensive house at Professor Markham's last known address is locked and appears uninhabited."

"Perhaps the Professor is traveling," the lady shrugged her slim shoulders. "He is often given to doing the impulsive and unpredictable."

Skinner's phone rang again. "Excuse me," he half turned away from us.

I looked to Ms. Thompson and picked up the thread. "So the man responsible for the success of this company just disappears, and his senior employees aren't the slightest bit concerned---"

"I beg your pardon?" AD Skinner sounded both annoyed and confused. I exchanged a quick look with Elisheva.

"Agent Kiwiphile, can you please get to the point-"

Elisheva and I exchanged another glance, this time one of shared concern.

The expression on AD Skinner's face was one of deep astonishment followed quickly by action and words. "A BOMB? What do you mean?" He was pacing now, and Elisheva and I were both on our feet as well. "Agent Kiwiphile? What's going--" He punched off the phone with an angry gesture. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Thompson, although your cooperation with a Federal investigation would have been more appreciated. Let's go," he didn't stop but was already halfway down the hall. Elisheva and I were nearly flying to keep up with him.

As security escorted us from the building to our car, I wanted to ask what had happened, but I was extremely conscious of the men walking beside us. They were outside the Agency, and this probably was not for their ears.

Once inside the car, though, Elisheva and I were speaking almost in unison, "What about a bomb? Where are Kiwi and Jadzia?"

"All I know is that Agent Kiwiphile phoned, was -- highly agitated -- and mentioned a bomb before the connection was broken."

I chimed in. "Jadzia and Kiwiphile were scheduled to follow up on the issue of whether there was a familial relationship between Kelly's former fiancé Chri--"

"I'll call the Nguyen residence," Elisheva grabbed her phone. "Perhaps Kelly or her mom can give us an address."

"Let's head back towards the main part of the city," Skinner nodded while Elisheva dialed the number. Synthatec's corporate office and main facilities were located nearly thirty miles away from the city of Oakland proper.

Elisheva obtained an address from Kelly Nguyen who said that she had spoken to our fellow agents earlier in the morning and given the same address to them. Using Elisheva's PDA, we obtained directions to the location and drove there as quickly as possible.

While en route, I called the Oakland PD to report a possible explosive device at that location. I listened for several minutes with only a nod or a small sound of assent that I was still listening.

"You won't believe it," I told the others as I placed my phone back into my coat pocket. "Apparently Kiwiphile and Jadzia are unharmed. The house which they entered -- with a search warrant in hand," I hastily added, "is not in the same condition. The bomb squad is on site to make sure that there are no further explosive devices, and a HazMat team has been called in as well."

"Why?" Skinner's eyes were back on the road, but I knew I had his attention.

"A possible terrorist action scheduled for 2100 hours this evening," I filled in the rest of the sketchy details as our car raced through traffic as quickly as possible to the site of the latest incident in this ever expanding and confusing case.

SamanthaJ3

Feb. 4, 2000

From: Jadzia

To: SamanthaJ3

Agent Kiwiphile wasn't nearly as amused by the sight of our former rental car as I was. As I dashed away the tears of laughter from my eyes, I patted her on the shoulder.

"We've GOT to get you a higher per diem, Kiwiphile. Come on. We need to get further away from the fire".

By now, we could hear the whine of sirens as fire engines and Oakland police arrived on scene. A familiar blue Ford Taurus pulled up along with the firemen and local law enforcement. SACs Samantha and Elisheva got out of the car and gave Kiwiphile and I a quick once over to make sure that all of our limbs were still attached. AD Skinner came around from the driver's side and addressed us both.

"Glad to see that you're both in one piece Agents". Under his gaze, I felt the sudden need to straighten my disheveled hair and suit and desperately wished that I could clean some of the dirt off the side of my face. Oh well . . .

Kiwiphile put her armload of papers down on the hood of the Taurus.

"We found these maps inside the house," she said. "It looks like there's going to be sort of attack tonight at 9PM. I suspect that they're somehow going to use the herbs that we found at the warehouse, but I'm not sure how".

Skinner spread the maps across the hood and we all tried to decipher what could possibly going on. There were maps, blueprints, money, and funky herbs involved. What the heck was going on? One of the blueprints caught my attention. It was marked with today's date and the note "2100 hours". It had a red "X" marked toward the bottom of the blueprint, with a red line that traced a path to a second "X" marked on one of the upper floors. Elisheva was also looking at the blueprint and traced the marks with her finger.

"It looks like they've figured out a path from a restaurant to this upper floor," she mused. "Wait a minute, the restaurant is called Da Chevette. Did you guys know that they had another location in this office building?"

"What?" Samantha exclaimed. We all moved to take a closer look at the blueprint.

"This is a blueprint of the Kaiser Building next to Lake Merritt," I said, catching sight of the name printed in the bottom corner. "Holy sh*it! What floor is that second "X" on?"

"The 21st floor," Elisheva responded.

"What is it, Agent Jadzia?" The Man asked.

"The 21st floor of the Kaiser Building is where they have the offices for the Regents of the University of California. They only meet once a month, and I'm willing to bet that their meeting is this evening," I replied excitedly.

"Make your point Agent". Skinner was doing that jaw grinding thing again. He was starting to run out of patience with all of the twists and turns in this case.

"One of the Regents of the UC is Grey Davis, the Governor of California. He's relatively new in office and has been making it a point to participate in the Regents meetings because the last governor never did.

We've speculated that Phong and Wang were using the Da Chevette to test the effects of various herbs that they were smuggling. What if they finished the testing and were ready to move from smuggling to domestic terrorism? These other maps suggest that they were scoping out the BART tunnel under the San Francisco Bay, Davies Symphony Hall and the UC Berkeley campus. It looks like they were planning those as future attacks. Tonight, though, I think that they were planning on either kidnapping or assassinating the Governor of California".

"That's a serious accusation you're leveling, SAC Jadzia," Skinner reminded me.

"I'm well aware of that, sir. But I believe that is the theory that the evidence supports".

"Jadzia," Samantha said. "How in the world did you know about the office of the Regents? That information's not exactly in the case file".

"You know I'm from the Bay Area, right? Well, they're attacking the building that my dad worked in for 30 years. I can tell you how many sub-basements, elevators and air conditioning vents the place has, among other things," I answered with a wry grin. "Small world, isn't it?"

SAC Jadzia

Feb. 4, 2000

From: Elisheva

To: Jadzia

After Jadzia and Kiwiphile took care of preliminary paper work with the local PD and left a number where they could be contacted, we placed the files and papers into the trunk and we piled into the car.

A.D. Skinner started the engine and began making his way to The Kaiser Building. Jadzia pulled out her cell phone and contacted the Kaiser Building's maintenance department to notify them of our impending arrival time and to request they check their maintenance records for any unusual work orders or other strange activities.

Sitting next to the window in the back seat of the car, I half listened to the conversation between Samantha and Kiwiphile as I gazed at the passing landscape of buildings and people, never focusing on anything. When working on a case, I tended to become introspective. Skinner use to tease me that I was looking into my 'crystal ball' at times like this. (Yes he can have a sense of humor at times, but its hard to pick up on due to the lack of certain muscles in his face to crack a big smile. A little known physical anomaly of Skinner's)

We had discovered that my hunch about Wang and Christian Phong was correct. I thought about what a perfect set up it had been for Phong to open a restaurant for his 'beloved' fiancé Kelly and then put his father to work as a humble chef in order to 'test' the biochemical weapon that they had been working on.

Obviously, Pro. Markham was the brain behind the idea of importing presumably innocent herbs, many of which I was certain were not toxic no matter how they were 'treated' in order to deter suspicions from the others they were combining to create their biochemical. Having majored in microbiology in college, I had taken endless chemistry courses and knew it was not a difficult process to break various plant life down to its most rudimentary elements than combine them to create a secondary substance with a totally different effect from the original elements. With Markham's access to his pharmaceutical facility, it had been much too easy.

I could not comprehend being so angry with the US Government about the death of his spouse that he would be driven to kill innocent people in order to get revenge. But here we were, working on such a case.

The one detail that I was struggling with now was a simple one. If the 'tests' originally done at Da Chevett had only produced severe mood swings and only one death, how did they hope to assassinate Gov. Davis using their substance. Were they planning on releasing a more concentrated vapor to produce their desired effect? Or was Markham just planning to 'make a point' that he had the knowledge and means to blackmail the US Government to get the 'justice' he had been seeking?....

"Agent Elisheva....Hello....are you there?" Kiwiphile was tapping on my shoulder.

"Sorry, I was thinking about the case. Did I miss something?"

"Crystal Ball?" I heard A.D. Skinner mumble. The other's glanced in his direction.

I was thankful to see Jadzia end her conversation and put her cell phone away. Excellent segue.

"Agent Jadzia, did you learn anything from maintenance?"
I inquired in a hope to distract all from Skinner's comment.

SAC Elisheva

Feb. 4, 2000

From: Jadzia

To: Elisheva

After shooting a puzzled glance at AD Skinner after his odd non-sequiter comment, I answered Ellie's question.

"Maintenance said that Da Chevette's management asked them to leave the delivery driveway gate up because the restaurant was expecting a 'shipment' tonight. Maintenance filed a routine report with building security so they'd know what was going on, but the high-rise only has two security guards after hours.

And the Regents' meeting is scheduled for tonight. It starts at 6PM and is expected to run until 9PM -- 2100 hours, if I remember my military time correctly".

"That doesn't give us much time to prepare," Skinner grumbled.

"And we don't know exactly what we're preparing for," Elisheva added. "Are we trying to foil an assassination or a kidnapping? There's quite a difference between the two".

"I think it's more likely to be a kidnapping attempt," Samantha put in (we were awfully cozy with five adults in the Taurus, but we hadn't been able to pick up a new rental yet). "While the drugs we've seen could easily incapacitate a person, they haven't been directly fatal. They might be planning on kidnapping and then ransoming the governor. Or killing him later as part of their terrorist campaign," she finished somberly.

SAC Jadzia

Feb. 4, 2000

From: SamanthaJ3

To: Jadzia

"Of course," I warmed to the topic, "this might have *nothing* to do with the Governor." I felt Jadzia, Elisheva, and Kiwiphile all staring at me. "Or it might," I shrugged. "I'm just thinking that it would be easier to contact everyone and have them reschedule or relocate their meeting."

"You know that's not policy," Skinner didn't even look at me in the rear view mirror for that terse comment.

"I know, I know," I hastily amended my previous comments. "We don't want to make it look as if the Bureau or the local law enforcement personnel are incapable of handling the matter. I understand that, sir."

I sighed heavily and wished I had eaten a larger breakfast. My stomach was rumbling. "Then what do we need to do first once we get to the site of this meeting? The Governor will have security there as well. Are there any other names on the guest list that will be bringing their own security?"

I thought for a long moment. "I'll coordinate with the local PD, if you guys want to handle searching for the biological agent, how it's going to be delivered, and who's going to be in place to do the attack/kidnapping." I looked at the back of AD Skinner's head. "If that's acceptable with you, sir."

I shook my head. This case was way over my head, but before I could go any farther with it, I had to grab a bite to eat.

Personal note to myself...eat a bigger breakfast the next time I'm out on a case.

SamanthaJ3

~

Feb. 4, 2000

From: Kiwiphile

To: Jadzia

I sat in the back of the car, absently twiddling with my watch strap. Until then, I hadn't realized how much I was used to having a trench-coat and a cell-phone. Without them, I felt strangely dependant on others. We were on our way to the building where the Regent's meeting was being held. the details of the case were ticking around in my head like cars around a track. Hard to focus on, and moving fast.

Finally I decided that I had to know, after all, if Agent Willmore was joining us. Now, how to phrase the question?

I was in the process of clearing my throat when Skinners 'phone rang.

'Skinner.', he glanced at the clock on the dash-board while listening to the caller. 'We should be there in about ten minutes, Agent Willmore.'

My heart did one of those silly pancake flips, and I looked fixedly at the road ahead.

'They're all in the car with me,' I couldn't be sure, but I was certain that his eyes flicked over to me in the rear vision mirror. 'Hold on a moment,'

Skinner passed the 'phone back over to me, I took it awkwardly, unable to decipher Skinners expression. 'Agent Kiwiphile, SA Willmore would like to have a word. Then I suggest you use my 'phone to ask someone in the police department to return yours.'

Point taken. I hurriedly answered the call, 'Kiwiphile here.'

'Kiwi?, I just wanted to let you know I'd been in touch with the ATF guys you put on the case a few days ago. I have all the information here. It was a good hunch-'

'Um, I can't talk long, can you brief me at the Kaiser?'. I felt like a teenager talking in front of her parents.

'Oh, sure, I um...are you OK? I heard there was a bomb-'

'I'm fine Willmore. I have to go.'

Hanging up I called the SFPD, trying to ignore the repressed giggles of Samantha and Jadzia. Skinner must think he had recruited from the local high school.

We pulled up to the meeting spot, which was out of view of the building. Craig was there already, and Skinner called him over.

'What have you got?' The AD and all the SAC's surrounded him, leaving me on the edge of the group. Craig pulled out the file and laid it on the bonnet of the car. He was dressed in a Kevlar vest and there were a few other Federal Agents milling around. I went over to them to suit up and get gear for the others. May as well be prepared.

I listened to Craig as he filled the others in on the situation. 'We gathered all the intelligence we could on the Revelations Angels. Apart from the usual round of dead ends and detours, we managed to get a pretty clear picture of the group. The leader is Professor Markham, but Christian Phong is also a main player.

It turns out that Christians families on his mothers side were badly effected by dioxin poisoning as well. Five members on his mothers side died as a result of cancers that may have been caused by Agent Orange. At least one of them was involved with the Chinese Army during the Vietnam War. This Uncle was also privy to certain experiments that were conducted by the governments of both sides involving chemical sprays.

Christian and Markham struck up an alliance of sorts when they met at Christians fathers during Mrs Markham’s treatment.

The Governor was a member of the senate committee that turned down Professor Markham’s application to the Court of appeals.
In fact he argued strongly that it would start a flood of law-suits that the government was in no position to defend.

There’s evidence to suggest that they aren't focusing on mood altering drugs any more. Most of the stuff early on was centered on the ability to sway peoples emotions, a sort of mass mind control if you will. Its just a theory, but I suspect that Markham thought he could influence the decision making process if he could somehow alter the emotional state of the members. Then he must have heard that a law was in the process of being drawn up. A law drafted by our Governor, that put a strict time limit on all claims brought against the State with regard to injury and loss during times of war. We down loaded these from their site this morning.'

Skinner looked at the papers carefully then put them down, his mouthed a grim line. 'This is a recipe for sarin gas, among others.'

We stood for a moment in the gathering dusk, wondering what we were facing.

Craig spoke first. 'There is evidence that the pharmaceutical company Markham works for has recently taken delivery of hydro cyanic gas releasing devices, and containers of acentonitrile. After the '95 subway attack in Japan, all ingredients for sarin were marked for alerts in our databases. I think Markham has crossed a threshold with this, he doesn't want compensation any more. He wants revenge.'

Skinner eyed the group. 'Suit up as quickly as possible. Jadzia, I want to speak with you and the SAC's now. Kiwiphile, go get your 'phone and find me a coffee. And get Samantha something to eat, I can't hear myself think over the rumbling.'

Craig took a couple of steps towards me, then stopped. I turned and followed his gaze. There, striding towards us larger than life and winking at me lasciviously, was Gunson. In his hand he brandished my gear. I tried to duck out of the way, but found myself once again crushed in a massive bear-hug, watching as Craig turned and joined the others.

SA Kiwiphile

Feb. 4, 2000

From: SamanthaJ3

To: Kiwiphile

We were still rehashing options in an empty conference room in the Kaiser building. Local teams had been called in to assist, and while tensions were running high, there was still an air of controlled urgency in the room.

I gratefully accepted the sandwich which Kiwiphile handed to me. 'Thank you,' I mouthed in her direction, although I wasn't sure if she realized that I was trying to snag her attention. In her usual thoughtful manner, Kiwiphile had also brought some food and styrofoam cups of coffee for everyone on the Bureau's team, although I noticed that she seemed rather uncomfortable around Agent Willmore. Hmmm...I filed that away for further thought later.

Unwrapping the wax paper, I discovered a pastrami sandwich on rye, still warm. Bless Kiwiphile's heart, I hadn't had a good deli sandwich in ages. Taking a large bite and wiping my mouth hastily afterwards with a paper napkin, I continued going over contingency plans with the local officers assigned to the state governor's security.

"It would help if we knew exactly what we're dealing with," one of them grumbled at me. I wasn't sure of the cause, but I picked up a distinct air of hostility from him. I didn't know why, but he seemed angry with me -- personally. Well, if he thought I would fold under a little hostile intimidation, he'd obviously never worked under Assistant Director Walter Skinner. This local man was a mere neophyte when it came to intimidating glares.

"Yes, you're right," I nodded my head agreeably and took another large bite of my sandwich. "It would be very helpful, but this is all we have to go on at the moment."

Perhaps this man didn't like federal involvement on his own turf. Perhaps he didn't care for female agents. Perhaps he was just a jerk, but it didn't matter. I still had to work with him.

"My biggest concern," I was talking between bites, "is that we may be locking the barn door after the horse has already left. If this is a kidnapping plot, then the kidnappers have to already be inside the building when the meeting begins, or the kidnappers have to be present at the meeting.

"Same with a assassination attempt," I took a long sip of my coffee while Mr. Local glared at me a little more. "If there is going to be a chemical or biological attack, I would be inclined to suspect that the method of delivery is already in place."

Finishing my sandwich, I crumpled up the wrapper and dropped it into the garbage can. The trash hadn't been emptied in this room today, and I looked down at the contents of the waste receptacle. Normal garbage for a conference room. Nothing unusual. Looking back at the officer whom I'd dubbed 'Mr. Local' in my mind, I paused and then asked, "Has the bomb squad finished going over this building?"

"They've completed the upper floors," Mr. Local nodded once, his whole body language screaming that he hated to tell me that much information.

"Are you satisfied with their findings?" I finished my coffee as well and dropped the cup into the trash can as well. I felt so much better for having some food and coffee in my system.

"Are you suggesting that they didn't do a good job?"

"Not at all," I shook my head and bit my lip for a moment. "Willmore!" I called across the room.

"Yes, ma'am?" He came over to stand beside me, and I held up a hand for him to wait one moment.

I turned back to the local officers. "If there's nothing further that you need from me as far as the Bureau goes, I'll let you return to your own immediate duties. I'll contact you immediately if we turn up anything."

Turning back to Willmore, I waited until we had a moment's space and then spoke softly, "Okay, we're missing something here. I just don't know what. So we're going to go upstairs and search that floor where the meeting will be held...again, and the floor above it...again, and the floor below it..again."

"What are we looking for?" Willmore asked as he signalled that he and I were going upstairs to AD Skinner who stood across the conference room, diagrams spread all over the table, SACs, SAs, local law enforcement spread all around the room as well.

"I don't know," I admitted as we headed towards the stairs. The elevators were being checked out at the moment. "But whatever it is, it must not be obvious or routine or the local teams would have already discovered it. So let's try and think unobvious and bizarre and see what we can discover."

SamanthaJ3

Feb. 5, 2000

From: Kiwiphile

To: SamanthaJ3

I didn't mind being the coffee and supplies runner for the team, it had given me a chance to review the case so far in my head. There was something niggling at me, I wasn't sure what. We must have already put a bug in their plans, so what were they going to do next? I was worried that there could be something else, something far bigger that we couldn't yet see.

I noticed Samantha signaling me, and joined her and Willmore.
Maybe she needed another coffee, I know I did. Dressed in hazmat gear with Kevlar vests and helmets, they looked like a couple of tough cookies. Willmore had an automatic rifle slung over one shoulder. Samantha stepped in, maybe she sensed that Willmore and I were circling each other a little carefully.

'We're going back up to search the floors again, I'm not satisfied that we've seen everything yet.' She spoke quietly.

'I'll suit up and join you if you want,' Samantha was nodding yes when it hit me. 'No, wait, I just realized something, I have to go back to the diner where I got the coffee...'

They looked at me curiously, and I explained myself quickly. 'Listen, I've been thinking about terrorism, the whole point of a successful action is us turning up after they've done it. So, whatever is in here, when we find it, it may be no good to us. We could end up waiting for their next move. They must have a plan B right? And they must know that we're here, its probably on the news by now; for crying out loud, we may has well have sent them a note. But a terrorist nearly always turns up to watch the fire, they can't resist it. Timothy McViegh was caught after the Federal Building bombing on his way home. With ear-plugs guns and anti-government manifestos in his truck. Well, when I was in the diner a few minutes ago, I saw someone sitting in a corner booth. I can't say for sure, but I think it was Markham.'

Samantha was serious, 'Then you'd better check it out, and get some back-up.'

Craig butted in, 'I'll go.'

'No,' replied Samantha,'you already have something to do. Get SAC Jadzia, then when you've finished come join us.'

I headed over to the rest of the group as they started upstairs. Since there was a likelihood of a bomb in the building, we were all on radio and cell-phone black-out. To all intents and purposes, we were cut off from each other. I mouthed a prayer to my stalwart Saint that they would be OK.

Skinner was a little pissed that I wanted to check out a cold lead, but he agreed it was important enough to divert staff to it. Jadzia and I left the building and headed towards the Espresso Love Diner. In our trench coats and wearing vests, we were hardly inconspicuous, but there was no time to play secret agents. Jadzia took the front half of the diner, and started questioning staff and patrons. I headed towards the back.

The man I had seen was still there, but he had seen us. he was just racing into the men’s room when I spotted him. Pulling my gun, I moved towards the doors quickly, 'Federal Agent! Stop right there!' I knew it was a moot point, so I increased my pace and flew through the doors. A couple of guys at the urinals looked at me in terror as I burst in, 'Excuse me gentlemen,' I said as I skidded across the tiles and towards the window. The suspects feet were disappearing out. I knew Jadzia would be following, so I holstered my gun and dove through the window. He was nowhere to be seen, but the shortest route lead to the back of the alleyway, I went that way, pulling my gun out again. It was dark, and around the corner it led to another street. Moving quietly, I ducked my head under a dangling fire-escape and turned the corner. I caught a glimpse of a heavy club before it hit me square on the head. Stunned, I dropped my gun and fell to my knees. I was still seeing stars when I felt myself bundled up and dragged towards a waiting van. I tried to struggle, but a cloth was placed over my mouth and I smelt the sharp aroma of ether. On the floor of the van, I woozily noted that Markham was getting in front, before I passed out.

SA Kiwiphile

Feb. 5, 2000

From: Kiwiphile

To: ALL

I woke up tied to a chair by my wrists, ankles and waist. Whoever had tied me up had studied their knots, a regular sea scout, I thought, wincing as the bonds cut into my skin. I had dried blood in my eyes, and still couldn't focus properly. The after effects of the ether gave me an oddly clam feeling, but my heart was pumping like a jack-hammer. This, I thought, is the kind of situation that can lead to a post-humous award for bravery. One that I didn't really want at my age.

There was one light in the room, a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. I looked around, It was a basement of some kind. Damp brick walls, no windows. A table was in front of me, a lamp on it was off, another chair across from it.

I had no idea where I was, I only hoped that Jadzia had seen the van and put a tail on it before it was too late to follow.

Voices drifted through from the corridor, and two men entered the room. The central light prevented me from seeing their faces, and one switched the lamp on as he sat, positioning it to shine in my face. 'Nasty Interrogation 101', I thought. I hoped they didn't intend to torture me, I wasn't in the mood.
The other positioned himself behind my chair.

'Agent Kiwiphile; transferred to Washington, DC, field office January 2000, formerly a Detective with the New Zealand Police,' the voice droned on and on, I cut in.

'So we can skip the introduction, how about you tell me who you are?

The chair was flipped out from under me, and I broke the fall with my elbow. The pain was outrageous, and I bit my lip. The chair was put upright again.

'Tut, tut, Agent. You know how this goes, I ask the questions. You answer them. Now, I want to know how much your people know about our plans.'

I studied the table's edge, mentally disengaging myself. The chair tipped again, and this time I felt the shock of pain all the way up to my shoulder.

'Put her on the table, please.'

The chair was placed on the table with me in it. They moved the lamp back. God, I thought, this was getting scary.

'What do your people know?'

No comment, I thought. There was obviously something we were on to, he would've just killed me otherwise. I didn't intend to give him any advantages.

This time the second man used a stick to swipe at the chair legs. It caught me on the ankle, and I felt a sickening lurch as I tumbled down to the floor. Mercifully, I hit the ground back first, so I was mainly winded. I was put up on the table top. My torturer moved in close to me. My vision was jagged, and I had trouble holding my head up. Bloody spit had filled my mouth, and without thinking, I hocked a big mouthful at him.

The chair started to fly in slow motion. Each time they replaced me on the table, and each time I smart-mouthed my way back to the floor. I lost the plot a little, but I knew that I couldn't tell them anything, I just hoped that I'd lose consciousness before my will to fight was lost. Actually, after a while, I pretty much started to hope they would just shoot me instead.

They left after a while, leaving me hanging forwards in the chair. Part two, I thought. Soon, he would return. Maybe do another tough guy routine. Then something nice, water, food. To wear me down. Maybe start to try and tell me that they were the good guys. Then, if I was unlucky enough to still be there, the real fun would start. We'd covered this stuff at Quantico.

I thought about the various things I'd read. Then I tried not to think about them. I was no super-woman, if they started to really get inventive, I was going to break. Everyone does eventually. I shook my head to try and clear it. The bastards were already getting to me. I made a mental check of my body, nothing was broken yet, but I didn't think I could stand if they untied me now. The circulation in my feet and hands was sluggish. I tried not to slump, it was making it hard to breathe. They may have cracked a rib, there was a sharp stab of pain when I tried to breathe deeply.

I wondered if they had had this little party planned for the Governor, and I was second best. It didn't make me a very valuable hostage. If help didn't come soon, they'd give up and dump me in the bay.

The door swung open again and my heart sank. They had a tray of food, but beside the plate was a syringe, and a variety of what looked like surgical instruments.

SA Kiwiphile

Feb. 5, 2000

From: Jadzia

To: Kiwiphile

I heard Kiwi's yell from the back of the diner and ran back there, gun drawn. I was just in time to see her disappear out the bathroom window and to traumatize the stunned men standing in front of the urinals. Following her route out to the alley, I heard the squealing of tires as a van took off. I gave chase and shot at the van -- trying to take out the tires -- but it was already turning onto the street and I only managed to take out the right tail light.

Taking one more step forward, I almost slipped and looked down. Kiwiphile's gun. As was my wont when I got seriously pissed off, I let loose with a fluent string of colorful expletives in English, Italian, Spanish and Tagalog as I reached for my cell phone. We had to get our people on this NOW.

As I hit the speed dial button for AD Skinner's cell phone, one of the guys from the bathroom stuck his head out of the open window.

"Damn," he said. "A hottie whose got the cojones to come into the men's bathroom and who can cuss like a sailor. If you're a Cowboys fan, I'm in love".

Skinner's phone had just started to ring. Cradling my phone between my shoulder and ear, I turned to the guy and fixed him with an ice-cold death glare. My gun was still in my hand, and I made a great show of checking that there was a bullet in the chamber as I said, "I'm a Niners fan". His head quickly disappeared back through the window.

SAC Jadzia

Feb. 5, 2000

From: Jadzia

To: ALL

"Skinner," came the abrupt growl.

"SAC Jadzia, sir. I need back-up immediately. Markham and his men just grabbed Kiwiphile. I'm in the alley behind the Espresso Love Diner. The van turned east on Lakeshore Drive. I think they might be headed for somewhere in Oakland Chinatown".

"I'm sending men over to the diner right now, agent. And Elisheva's been looking up information on Markham and Phong. We'll see if they have any other properties or connections in Chinatown," the AD said, his voice tense.

"Chinatown's only a few blocks away, sir. And, with all due respect, I think they're more than a little pissed off at this point. We need to find Agent Kiwiphile immediately".

"I agree completely".

SAC Jadzia

Feb. 5, 2000

From: Samantha

To: Jadzia

I just happened to be walking out of the ladies room when a man whom I vaguely recognized as a local SWAT team member sprinted down the hallway.

"What's wrong?" Agent Willmore had heard the man coming and had nearly drawn his weapon on him from the opposite end of the corridor.

"Federal Agent has been taken hostage. They got a positive ID on the man. It's Markham."

Craig and I were both running full force towards the elevators. "They're still out!" The man shouted at us, so we hit the stairs instead. Both the SWAT team member and Agent Willmore had longer legs and longer strides, but I had never moved more quickly as I nearly matched their rush down the staircase to the ground floor.

By the time we reached the rest of our group, the tension levels had reached new highs. "Who is it?" I grabbed Elisheva's arm. I saw her. I could hear Skinner. That just left...

"Agent Kiwiphile," Elisheva tried not to look at Willmore as she spoke. "We think Markham has her."

Agent Willmore didn't stop to think that he was not a senior official at the site. Instead, for some unknown reason, he latched onto my arm and dragged me behind him until we reached AD Skinner who had a map spread in front of him.

"I'm taking *this* section," he slapped a hastily drawn grid-square on the map, "and SAC SamanthaJ3 is my backup."

Skinner's jaw worked for a moment, then he nodded. "Do it," he said with a swift nod. "Exercise every precaution. Assume that these men are heavily armed and extremely dangerous."

With a nod that we all understood each other, I ran after Craig as he slid into the nearest available car and we headed towards our search area. Just as we were pulling out onto the road, a massive figure appeared in our path.

"Gunson, SWAT team," he flashed his ID in our faces as he opened the back door and climbed into the car. "I'm the rest of your team."

Willmore turned and gave Gunson a long, hard, and almost angry stare. Then he turned back to the steering wheel. "Fine," he muttered.

I looked from Agent Willmore to Gunson to Willmore. Then I checked the clip on my weapon and checked to see how much ammunition I had with me. Willmore and Gunson were both carrying larger weapons, but there was no time to go back for anything else for me besides my Bureau issued weapon.

I looked at the hastily copied piece of map for our area and then I turned to Gunson. "This is your city. Where should we start?"

Gunson took the map and looked at our section. "Here." His large finger pointed to the map, and he gave Willmore directions. It seemed like only a few seconds before we reached the spot, exited the car, and started the search for Kiwiphile and Markham's group.