Page 70 of Lion's Share
In the sudden silence that followed, Sidney spoke again, her voice carrying clearly in the night air.
“That was just a demonstration,” she said. “If I wanted to, I’m pretty sure I could generate a pulse strong enough to disable every electronic device within a fifty-mile radius. Cars would stop running. Hospital equipment would fail. Air traffic control systems would go dark. Thousands of people could die.” She paused, letting those terrible words sink in. “Is that really the kind of weapon you want to try to replicate?”
Dr. Rosenthal stared at her, face even paler, now almost corpse-white. A weapon that powerful would be impossible to control, too dangerous to deploy in most circumstances. It would be like trying to use a nuclear bomb for a precision strike on a very small target.
“But that’s not why you’re going to leave,” Sidney continued. “You’re going to leave because Agent Morse is about to call you with some very interesting news about your surveillance data.”
As if summoned by her words, one of the few electronic devices that had survived Sidney’s demonstration — a satellite phone in one of the vehicles, something he guessed must have been shielded against EMPs — began to ring. An agent jogged over to retrieve it, speaking briefly before approaching Dr. Rosenthal.
“Ma’am,” he said, his expression confused. “Agent Morse needs to speak with you immediately. She says it’s urgent.”
Dr. Rosenthal took the phone, her cold gaze never leaving Sidney’s face. “Morse, what — ” She broke off there as she appeared to pause and listen to whatever Rebecca Morse was telling her. “What do you mean, corrupted? How is that even possible?”
Ben couldn’t hear Agent Morse’s side of the conversation, but he could see Dr. Rosenthal’s expression growing darker with each passing second.
“All of it?” Dr. Rosenthal asked, her tone now sharp enough to puncture a tire. “The thermal imaging, the electromagnetic readings, the surveillance footage?” Another pause. “That’s impossible. The data was encrypted and backed up to three separate servers.”
Sidney smiled serenely. “Electromagnetic pulses can be very unpredictable, Dr. Rosenthal. Sometimes they cause localized damage. Sometimes they propagate through network connections and corrupt data hundreds of miles away.”
“You little — ” Dr. Rosenthal cut herself off, clearly struggling to maintain her professional composure. She listened to Agent Morse for another moment, then said, “I don’t care what legal complications there might be. We have authorization for enhanced interrogation.”
The phone crackled with static, and Dr. Rosenthal had to hold it away from her ear.
“What do you mean, media leaks?” she asked next. “How did the press find out about the operation?” She went quiet again, her jaw tightening and her mouth compressing so much that she didn’t look as much like a living being as a mummified version of one. “Congressional oversight committee? Since when do they care about domestic operations?”
As he listened to those words, Ben experienced a surge of real hope. Agent Morse was clearly doing everything she could to create bureaucratic obstacles for Dr. Rosenthal’s mission.
The real question was…would Rosenthal buy any of it?
One of the agents who’d been standing by the vehicles approached, and she scowled. “What do you want?”
“Ma’am,” he replied, looking as if he’d like to be pretty much anywhere else, “we’ve also got local law enforcement requesting an explanation for our presence. Apparently, someone called in reports of ‘suspicious activity’ to the county sheriff’s office.”
Ben guessed that “someone” had probably been the Hendersons…not so surprising, when you considered the contingent of federal agents that had parked in their driveway.
Dr. Rosenthal’s jaw tightened until Ben thought she might crack a tooth. She spoke into the sat phone again. “How long do I have before this becomes a public relations nightmare?” She listened, then let out a sound that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t been so bitter. “Twelve hours? That’s optimistic.”
She lowered the phone and looked at her assembled agents, then at Ben. Her cold, shark-like eyes seemed to be calculating something, weighing options he guessed she wasn’t very happy with.
At length, that icy gaze shifted to Sidney. “Ms. Lowell, our conversation isn’t over.”
“I think it is,” Sidney replied calmly. “Unless you have a warrant for my arrest, which I’m guessing you don’t, since Agent Morse mentioned something about legal complications.”
For a moment, Dr. Rosenthal’s composed mask slipped entirely, revealing a burning rage she’d clearly been struggling to contain. But when she spoke, her voice remained professionally neutral. “Enjoy your evening, Ms. Lowell. I’m sure we’ll speak again soon.” She turned to the assembled agents. “Pack it up. We’re leaving.”
At her command, the DAPI team dismantled their equipment and loaded it back into their vehicles, all of them moving with the kind of haste that suggested they were all too happy to get the hell out of there.
Rosenthal was the last to leave, pausing only to give Sidney one final, measuring look.
“This isn’t over,” she said quietly, the words barely audible over the sound of engines rumbling to life.
“Yes, it is,” Sidney replied, her voice firm. “You just don’t know it yet.”
Dr. Rosenthal’s mouth compressed to a thin, plum-colored line, but she didn’t say anything else. Instead, she climbed into the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, and moments later, the convoy was pulling away from the Henderson farm, their headlights disappearing into the foggy night.
Ben and Sidney stood in the sudden silence that followed, watching the red taillights fade into the distance. Around them, the countryside seemed to exhale, settling back into its natural rhythms now that the federal intrusion had ended.
“That was close,” Ben said.
